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enchanted-by-fae · 3 days ago

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I Love You (and That’s All I Really Know) - Azriel x Reader

Pairing: Knight!Azriel x Princess!Reader

Summary: You were his princess, and he was just a knight. Azriel was ready to prove he's worthy of your love.

4.2k words

Warnings: Jousting (nothing graphic), fluff, slight forbidden romance, angst kinda, author knows nothing about swordplay or jousting, Az doesn’t have his shadows, Eris is a bad guy in this, low key this is just adorable.

A/N: This is my first one-shot so hopefully you guys like it! The title and the story itself were influenced by Love Story by Taylor Swift. I was also kind of inspired by the first episode of House of the Dragon and the movie A Knights Tale

Azriel knew it was wrong. You were his princess and he was just a knight. The grand tourney would be held on the morrow and Azriel was ready to win. Not just the tourney but your affections as well. He needed to prove that he was worthy of loving you.

The knight had been in love with you for years. He was best friends with your brother, Rhysand. They grew close as brothers, training together to one day become the greatest heroes your world has seen. Alongside their other best friend, Cassian, the three were inseparable.

Azriel still remembers the day he first met you. He was still just a squire and didn’t even know who you were at first when he saw you. All he had seen was a girl chasing a rabbit on the grounds and he couldn’t help but be curious as to what you were up to. He saw you run into the forest after it, leaving him to chase after you. He would’ve felt responsible if something had happened when he could’ve prevented it.

“Hello?” he called out, not wanting to admit he actually was quite afraid to enter the forest alone. He had rumors as a child that sprites and faeries occupied this land and he wasn’t ready to learn the truth just yet. Azriel waited at the edge of the forest for your response but he never heard one.

“Okay Az, man up,” he spoke aloud to himself. He took the first steps into the forest, looking for a sign as to where you could've run off to. “Sprites, if you live here then I beg you to please leave me alone,” he rambled. Azriel was able to find his bravery the further into the forest he ventured. He was going to be the world's greatest knight after all. After searching for a while Azriel began to question if you even ran in this direction. “Miss? Are you there?” he called again.

He stopped for a moment to take in the surroundings, “where did you go?”, he pondered. Most people thought Azriel hated talking, in reality he just didn’t like people brushing him off. He found that the less you talk the more people pay attention when you actually have something to say. Of course, he never was like that with Rhys or Cass. His best friends were the only people he could truly be himself around. Another time he loved talking? When he was alone. He loved talking to himself. Who better to listen to him than- well, him.

“Okay,” he sighed out, “this better not be some game. I’m starting to get freaked out.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” a soft voice said behind him. Azriels eyes practically sprung out of his head as he completely stilled, scared to death at the mystery voice.

“Oh, sorry. Did I scare you again?” a girl. It was a girl speaking. Az let out a massive sigh of relief, finally being able to breath again, and turned to face the person he’s been searching for. You were the princess. He hadn’t recognized you as such when he saw you run off.

“You’re highness,” he immediately bowed. You just stood there, giggling. Azriel couldn’t help but be annoyed at that. “I came looking for you, not wanting to see you in trouble,” he explained.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” you questioned.

Az thought that surely you couldn’t be serious, “well the forest is a dangerous place. It’s rumored that sprites and faeries live here.”

“Oh, well I haven’t seen any sprites. And I don’t think I’ve seen any faeries either,” you beamed. “I just came to help a rabbit friend,” Azriel thought at that moment you must be insane.

He looked at you quizzically, “a rabbit friend?”

You nodded your head, “yes- well, I mean that we’re friends now. He had a thorn stuck in his paw and the poor thing was in pain. We get along quite well now!” Azriels brows furrowed and you just giggled at him. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” you laughed. He had never heard such a lovely sound before. If he could, Azriel would only listen to your laugh forever.

“I’ve just never heard of someone having a rabbit friend before,” he reasoned.

You just gave him a small shrug before starting the walk back to the palace. “I’m not crazy, just so you know,” you told him. Azriel just looked at you, in hopes of an explanation. “I just think that animals deserve the same respect and love as people. We did invade their homes after all.”

Azriel had never thought of it like that before but he supposed you were right. There’s something so beautiful about nature but then people came along and built palaces and villages. Taking over the land. He admired the way your brain works.

“Hey, you’re my brother's friend aren’t you?” you inquired.

“Yeah, Rhysand and I are pretty close,” he answered.

You looked at him with a smile, “he has good taste in friends then. Thank you for coming after me,” you gracefully inclined your head in gratitude.

Azriel offered a smile in return, “of course, princess.”

“Please, call me Y/N,” you asked him.

“Of course, Y/N,” he corrected. Just then he remembered he hadn’t told you his name, “you can call me Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you tried it out. “I like it!” you proclaimed. Now Azriel was offering you a chuckle of his own. He couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn't Rhys or Cass got him to laugh. In fact, he couldn’t remember when someone who wasn’t his friends got him to talk this much.

The two of you made your way back to the palace, chatting the entire way back.

“Well, Azriel, I should get back to my lessons. I’m sure my tutor is having a fit,” you explained. “Thanks again for the escort,” you then started the journey to your study and Azriel just stood there watching you walk away.

“My pleasure, Y/N,” he whispered to himself.

—

The two of you maintained a steady friendship throughout the years. You grew into a lovely young woman. Always compassionate towards your people, and you still cared a great deal for animals. You also were pretty brilliant. Azriel found himself amazed at some of the things you came up with. Your mind was one of the things he loved most about you.

As you and he got older, he found himself falling more and more in love with you. He almost confessed it to you just a few months ago at your nameday celebration, but he chickened out at the last moment. He was just a knight. They typically didn’t marry princesses, especially bastards like him.

He did have a plan, however, to make his love for you known. The king was throwing an upcoming tourney to celebrate Rhysands marriage to Lady Feyre. The champion prize was having a wish granted by the king. He planned to ask you for a token of luck before he was to joust and when he won, that will be when he asks for your hand.

—

“Princess Y/N,” Azriel greeted as he found you roaming the gardens, guards lingering behind.

A graceful smile bloomed across your face, “Az, please just call me Y/N,”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of his own appearing, “I just like to tease you.”

“Well don't! It’s not nice to treat your princess that way,” you justified.

“You just said to not call you princess!” he exclaimed. He loved it when the two of you had these playful arguments. They made something in his stomach pleasantly twist.

You were trying to remain serious but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, “you should still treat me as a princess.”

If things went his way tomorrow, he would treat you as a princess everyday for the rest of his life. He just slightly bowed his head towards you, “of course prin- Y/N.”

You gave him a playful head shake at his correction. “Are you ready for the tourney tomorrow,” you changed the subject.

Azriel tries not to give away his plans for tomorrow regarding you. He wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. “Of course I am,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

You turn towards Azriel, who's now walking beside you in the garden. He watches as you study his face slowly, looking for any signs of deception. Azriel has known you for a long time but you've known him for a long time too. You know all of his tells just as well as he knows yours. Yes, you were definitely onto him.

“That's great Az,” you say finally. He lets out a silent breath of relief. “I’m sure you’ll win, the only other real competition is Cass,” you add.

Az paused, he completely forgot Cassian was jousting too. He should tell Cass of his plan to propose to you. His friend was enough of a romantic that Azriel was sure that he could get him to throw the competition.

Cassian married Lady Nesta just a few months ago and they were disgustingly adorable. Lady Nesta was the eldest sister of Rhysands new wife, Feyre. He thought it was nice how his brothers found sisters to wed. He was even happier to have you all to himself now that Cass was out of the way. There were a few years where all Cassian could do was flirt with you. Azriel had never been more jealous in his life. He eventually snapped and let his brother in on his affections for you. His friend backed off after that.

“Oh, I’m not worried about “The Lord of Bloodshed”, or whatever he wants to call himself,” Azriel teased. Cass had started to call himself that after the first battle the three of them fought together. Az had never seen anything like it, he was almost demon-like out there. It was strange as Cassian was much different when he was with his friends.

You just giggled at Azriels teasing, “You’re not worried about perhaps the greatest knight this kingdom has ever seen, Sir Azriel?” Az couldn’t help the fluttering of his heart as you used his proper title.

“Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone here is the greatest then it's me,” he confidently replied. Azriel didn’t miss the flush of your cheeks at the term of endearment used.

“Then I wish you luck,” you curtseyed, “I shall see you on the morrow then?”

Az gave you a bow and took your hand in his, placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “you shall.” Your face flushed to deep crimson before pulling your hand back and stalking off back towards the palace

—

Azriel found Cassian in the training yard, and he wasn’t alone. He found his two best friends in an intense sword fight. Both of them were very good. Az found peace in knowing Rhysand wouldn’t be competing tomorrow, as the tourney was to celebrate his marriage. That just left him to deal with Cassian, who at that moment knocked his opponent on his ass, leaving Rhysand as the loser.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show his face at training,” Cassian called out to Azriel, helping pull Rhys back to his feet.

“Nice fight,” Azriel turned towards Rhysand, “sorry you had your ass handed to you.”

Cassian let out a chuckle, “he sure as hell did.” Rhysand was not amused, scowling at them both. “Oh wipe that face off, Rhys. You’re probably just tired,” Cass smirked, “Feyre wearing you out?”

Rhysand just looked at Cassian with a devilish grin, “something like that.”

Azriel just stood there, laughing at his friends. “Cassian, could I speak with you about something?” he asked. Cassian just looked at him with a quizzical brow.

“Why do you just need to speak to Cass?” Rhysand questioned, “I am your prince, after all.” Azriel was starting to ponder if pulling rank was a family trait.

Azriel never actually told Rhysand about his love for you. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but he supposed it would be nice to have both his best friends backing him up tomorrow.

Azriel took a deep inhale before speaking, “I’m going to wish for Y/N’s hand in marriage when I win tomorrow.”

Rhysand and Cassian dropped their swords simultaneously, staring at Azriel.

“You- wait my sister?”

“Finally!” The two exclaimed at once. Cassian wrapped his arms around Azriel, “you have my congratulations, brother,” he beamed.

“You knew about this?” Rhysand questioned Cass.

Cassian let out a sigh as he backed away from embracing Azriel. “yes, Rhys. I knew,” his response laced with guilt.

Rhysands confusion grew deeper and deeper. The only thing holding Azriel together was that he didn’t seem angry. “How- how long have you been in love with my sister?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shit his eyes, breathed, and reopened them, “since the day I met her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rhysand seemed more hurt than the fact his best friend was in love with his sister.

Azriel felt guilt coursing through him, “I didn’t know how you’d react. I thought you’d be angry,” he confessed.

Rhysand just blew out a sigh, “Why would I be angry?” It was now Azriels turn for confusion. “I honestly couldn’t think of a man more deserving than you to marry her,” Rhys informed.

“You truly mean that?” Az couldn’t contain the small grin he had.

Rhysand nodded, “of course,” he walked over and clapped Azriel on the shoulder, “she’d be lucky to have you. And you’d be lucky to have her.”

“Does this mean I have your blessing then?” Azriel queried.

Rhysand gave him a wide grin, “of course, although it’s not mine you need. How do you plan to convince the king?”

“I have a plan,” Azriel told his brothers before bringing his attention back to Cassian, “I need a favor.”

“Anything,” Cassian responded. Azriel informed his brothers of just how he’ll gain your fathers approval.

—

Azriel was set to fight his first match against a knight he had never heard of until before today, he was good. Not as good as Azriel, however. Azriel beat opponent after opponent, the crowd cheering his name. He loved the rush of the sport but if he was being honest with himself, he only cared if you were cheering his name. Which you were.

Azriel picked out your voice instantly, as it was the loudest. He looked at the royal box where you were seated on the left of your father, Nesta on your other side. When you weren’t cheering for Az, you were conversing with the lady. Azriel thought it was sweet how well you got along with her and Feyre. The latter of whom was seated next to Rhysand, on the opposite side of your father.

Soon Azriel found himself going against Cassian. During the conversation they had the day prior, his friend had agreed to lose. He felt bad asking it of Cass, but Azriel needed to win.

Azriel saddled himself on his horse once more and did a quick canter around the arena. He stopped just below the royal box.

“Princess Y/N” he called, using your formal title considering how public you currently were. His heart skipped a beat as you appeared before him.

“Yes, Sir Azriel?” you questioned, a mischievous smile gracing your face.

“Might I have a token? For luck,” he raised his lance high enough for you to bestow your favor. You nodded your head before you darted off to your seat to grab your gift.

“For you, good sir,” you came back with an intricately weaved wreath of flowers, placing it down on his lance. You leaned over the balcony just enough for Az to hear, “Win my heart, Sir Azriel.” You smiled at his dazed expression before returning to your spot besides the king.

Azriel just sat there on his horse, amazed at what you had just said. He finally snapped back into reality and rode back to his starting position. He was ready to win your heart.

—

Azriel was at his end of the fence, waiting for the signal to face off against Cassian. You were so close. Finally, Cassian emerged from his end of the barrier. Azriel looked towards his friend and noticed that he was riding a different horse. Then he noticed that the suit of armor was not the one Cass wore. And the killing blow was when the knight took off his helmet and revealed the face of Sir Eris.

Azriel called for a time out before the joust could begin, needing to check what happened with Cassian. He took off on his horse towards the opposite end in search of answers.

He arrived towards his new opponent, “Sir Eris, what has happened to Cassian?”

Eris let out a scoff, “you mean that idiot?”

Azriel glared at him, “yes, him.”

“Oh, well you see,” Eris began, “he lost.”

That wasn’t right. Cassian doesn’t lose. Especially to fools like Eris. Azriel never liked him. He was always full of himself. Thinking he was better all because he was to be the king of his own kingdom someday. Rhysand was in line for his own throne, and his friend still maintained humility.

“I doubt that is the truth of the matter,” Azriel defended. He hadn’t seen every tournament today, he was busy competing on his own as there were multiple tournaments being held. It was all meant to lead up to this, the grand finale. Azriel hoped that Eris was just making a show of himself, rather than telling the truth.

“Oh but it is,” Eris smirked, “I knocked him down myself. See for yourself.” Azriel followed to where Eris’ line of sight went, the royal box.

There he sat, next to his wife. Cassian was hanging his head in his hands, upset by the defeat and that he wouldn’t be able to help his brother any longer. Nesta rubbed comforting circles on his back and you moved to sit at his feet in hopes of cheering him.

“I wish you luck, Sir Azriel,” Eris mockingly bowed his head before placing his helmet back on.

Azriel galloped back to his end of the arena. He took a few deep breaths, thinking everything through. He knew he could take down Eris, but it would’ve been helpful if he had the guaranteed win he had with Cassian. If he lost, he’d never be able to marry you. He had to clear all the negativity from his mind. He would win. He could do this. Azriel would do as you told him and win your heart.

The signal went off for the grand finale to begin. Eris galloped down first, charging with might. Azriel followed almost instantly, securing his helmet. Focus. He needed to focus. Azriel, with direct precision, aimed for Eris’s shoulder. It would earn him a few points if the blow landed.

It didn’t. The blow just missed Eris and instead one landed on Azrael's shoulder. One point for Eris.

Their squires handed each of them a new lance, set to begin round two. They began their gallops down again. Eris landed another blow on Az on his shoulder. Eris now had two points on Azriel.

The third round would be the last if Eris landed another blow. The first to three points wins so that meant Azriel had to get at least one point, in hopes of continuing longer with a chance of a comeback. He had another option as well. If he knocked Eris from his horse then he would automatically be declared as the winner.

Az blew out a breath, “okay, I can do this. Just knock Eris on his ass,” Azriel rambled to himself. He never could break the habit. “Easy enough,” he confidently whispered.

Azriels squire handed him his final lance, desperate to get this over with and to make you his at last. The two nights began their descents towards each other, lances ready to deliver their final blows.

This time Azriel aimed further in, closer to Eris’ chest. He galloped and galloped. He had something to fight for. Someone to fight for. You. All he could think of was just how lovely you are and how he so desperately wanted to you to be in his arms.

Azriel landed his blow. Eris missed. He missed and was immediately knocked off his horse. He had done it. Azriel won. He removed his helmet and let out a laugh. Not because it was funny, but because he gets his wish and Eris gets nothing.

Azriel trotted over towards the royal box, ready to face your father. He got off his horse smoothly and there you were, looking at him in a way he had always hoped you would.

“Sir Azriel,” the king started, rising from his seat, “it seems as though congratulations are in order.”

Azriel kneeled before his king, “thank you, your majesty. The honor was mine.”

“You do understand what you receive for your victory, yes?” the king asked.

“Yes, one wish granted,” Azriel nodded breathlessly. He could hardly contain his nervous excitement.

The king took a moment, “that is correct.” The king began walking towards Azriel until there wasn’t much space left between them. “Stand,” he ordered. Azriel did as he said, rising to meet his king's eyes. “What is it you would wish for?” he asked.

“I would like to ask for the hand of Princess Y/N,” he nervously asked. Azriel took a fleeting glance towards you, making eye contact. He wanted to spend forever looking into your eyes. Azriel lost his nerves completely, knowing you were looking at him with such admiration.

“I wish to make her my bride. I wish to make her happy for the rest of her life. I wish to love her, and to hold her. I wish for Y/N, my king” Azriel requested in his most authoritative voice.

The king's face was one of indifference, “are you not a bastard?”

Azriel won the tourney. His birth status should not matter anymore. He was tired of the obstacles in his way. He felt his temper bubble to the surface. That was when Az felt a gentle hand place itself on his forearm. He looked to his side, and there you were.

“Father, the rules stated the winner would have any wish granted to them,” you came to his defense.

“Yes but, Y/N, he’s a bastard,” the king justified.

“I love him, as he loves me,” you proclaimed. Azriel had no idea that you truly returned his feelings. Of course he suspected, that was why he had done all of this after all. Hearing it from you made his chest thunder with excitement. You loved him.

The king looked between the two of you, “you truly love him?” he asked his daughter.

“Yes father, I do. Please grant him this wish,” you began to plead.

Your father looked towards Azriel now, “you truly love her?” he asked Azriel, repeating the same question he had for you.

“I do,” Azriel said without a second thought. “I love her and wish to make her my wife,” he continued, looking down towards you.

You felt his gaze upon you and turned to make eye contact with him, giving him a smile he had never seen you wear before but he somehow loved this one the most. “Please, father” you begged once more.

The king examined Azriel once more, then brought his gaze to you. “Very well, the two of you shall be married,” he declared loud enough for most of the arena to hear. Soon enough applause and cheers filled the open space, the crowd rejoicing in the news.

With that the tourney came to a close, the king and his royal guard taking their leave. Azriel spared a quick glance to his friends as they left with Feyre and Nesta, presumably to give him a moment alone with his fiancée. He loved that he could call you that now. And soon, you'd be his wife.

When everyone in the royal box left and the two of you were as close to being alone as possible, he went to gently take your face into his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you love me?” he asked you.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you love me?” you retorted.

Azriel let out a chuckle, “you have me there, princess.”

“I’m sorry I never told you. Truthfully,” you removed his hands from your face, pulling them close to your chest, “I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

Azriels eyes bulged, “you- you have?” You just gave him a shy nod in response. “In the name of honesty,” he breathed out a laugh. He couldn’t believe you loved him just as long as he did you. “I’ve loved you since that very day as well,” he confessed.

You giggled, “we’ve both been rather foolish, haven’t we?”

“Yes, my love, I’m afraid we have,” he giggled with you. Azriel wasn’t planning on wasting one more second. He removed one hand from yours, taking it to place back on your cheek. His thumb softly stroked the skin there. He leaned down, hovering just above your lips. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out.

“I love you, Az,” you whispered back just before he closed the distance. Finally, after years of waiting, he sealed your lips with a kiss. He had won your heart just as you had won his.

—

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a little while now so I'm very happy I finally got around to writing it! You are all so amazing, I really appreciate all of your support 🥰❤️

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel x female!reader #afab!reader #rhysand #rhysand sister #rhysand sister reader #cassian #the bat boys #knight au #medieval au #eris vanserra #eris acotar

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digi-diareis · 3 days ago

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Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #l&ds caleb #l&ds imagine #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #i #caleb x mc #caleb x you #they/them mc

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alwaysanundertone · 2 days ago

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high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

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urrmomzfavorite · 1 day ago

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PAC: Your Next Relationship (who, where, when)

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile One🐲:

Who: A bombshell—someone sexy. You’ll see this person as eye candy. They’ll catch your eye the second you’re in the same room as them. They have a magnetic aura, they command authority simply with their presence. They could be taller than average. I’m hearing tall,dark and handsome. Where: I’m getting the image of someone’s hands holding your waist, saying, “Excuse me?” Ooooh, this is dangerous. The second they touch you? Electrified. The eye contact lingers, and the sudden rise in temperature sets your body on fire. You’ll fall for each other at first sight. I can feel the sexual tension, the people around too.lol. This is this type of thing when everyone at work can clearly see you guys like each other but you still play it slow. This feels like having a crush when you’re younger. Getting excited to go to work because you know they will be there. This is really cute, you guys make each other blush. When: This could happen when you’re starting something new—maybe a new workplace, a vacation, or even a cruise for some. It could happen after a move, I see movement. You won’t see it coming, but trust me, it’s coming. 18+ Thoughts: “You need a spanking” “Let me worship you” “Moan my name”

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Two🧚🏾:

Who: You know them. Yes, it’s them. I know you’re tired of hearing about them, but listen—you need to talk to this person. They don’t want to let go. They can’t let you go. It’s you; it has to be you. Wow, someone’s spiraling.This person is losing their mind over you. You might be ignoring them, a little taste of the silent treatment huh? They can’t handle it. Now it’s clear they have no power, and by the way they are reacting, they know time is up? You’ve given a lot of time/chances to this person. It’s funny how karma works, all that time wasted on them is now being repaid by constant obsession and insecurity when it comes to their place in your life. Their position is rocky? Do they even still have one?

Where: I don’t know if this person is blocked, but they’ve spent an insane amount of time in their Notes app, trying to come up with the best way to start a conversation. Adding you on social media with fake accounts? This is actually wild. I don’t feel like they’re dangerous—they just seem desperate for your attention and approval. They seem determinated? Needing to know what you are doing, with whom? This person is unwell. Pile two this is your next relationship reading, but you don’t have to make space for someone in your life when they are in this state. Also you don’t even have to date them, but they have a huge pull on your energy, frantikly trying to hold onto you. They regret not telling you how they felt, how much you mattered. They don’t know why they tried so hard to make you feel like you didn’t. Omgggg this is actually hurting my head.

When: I think you haven’t talked to this person in a while, and that’s the problem. Paranoia has had time to grow, and now it’s like a virus. They’re losing sleep over this. It’s like all those times they tried desperately not to think about you—and succeeded—are coming back to haunt them. And they’re not letting go 18+ Thoughts: “ I want to make it up to you in bed” “Answer my calls” “I miss you caressing me”

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Three🍀:

Who: You don’t know this person yet. They’re really tall and love earthy colors—green looks amazing on them. This person is crafty and loves spending time in nature. They have this quiet confidence. Where does it come from? From knowing exactly who they are. They are secure in themselves and it shows in the way they walk, talk, breath.lol. This person has a strange effect on you, they feel like a warm blanket, and this feeling is constant. No roller coaster. As if you were spending the early mornings on a beach watching the sun rise. This is finally a love that doesn’t take anything from you, it just adds to your life.

Where: This will happen outside on a summer day—maybe in a garden or a park. This person sees you reading? LOL, they quickly Google the book on their phone before approaching. Smart one! This person knows what they want and doesn’t play games. They’re also excellent cooks! You could meet them at a class someone invites you to—you’re trying it out for free. This person feels so refreshing, they are exactly what you need when you meet them. They see you and already start plotting, They don’t look like it tho. With their dazzling smiles. I’m getting surfer boy energy lol. They seem so zen, so at peace, and this energy will rub off on you.

When: They’re slow-moving, and your paths haven’t aligned yet. I’m hearing that both of you need to make some lifestyle changes before being united. This one is really up to divine timing but it is worth it.

18+ Thoughts: “Let’s break the bed.” “Let me tie you up.” “I want to make you c*m”

✨Psst check my masterlist if you want more readings from me !✨

#tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #astrology #spiritual journey #18+ tarot #divination #tarot witch #pick a card reading #daily tarot

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cowboyschumi · 2 days ago

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MUSE

Summary: Oscar is known for being bad at padel, which is why he tries other hobbies, like photography. Now, he clearly needs something to take photos of.

Author's note: Oscar trying to play paddel 🤏

I'm a huge fan of taking inspiration from songs, so you can listen to this. Don't forget to enjoy the reading and show some love. <3

Warnings: None ig.

————————————————————————

Oscar had to be grateful for being that good of a driver. Man, he was really bad at other sports. Everyone pointed it out and made fun of him, some people even pitied him or found it cute. He even tried golfing, but that racket was his last straw. He was a bit frustrated, but Oscar wasn’t the type to get frustrated and give up. He just accepted the fact that he wasn’t gifted enough.

His Instagram was— for his luck because he wasn't a media guy— managed by a social media professional, who made him posts and even took charge of taking pictures. Yes, none of his dumps, captions, or stories were posted by his own hands, which was crazy. He wanted some sort of control over that, after all, he had a voice and a platform. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame, besides there was no fun and genuine part if he wasn't the one behind his Instagram. So he decided to take it more seriously, it made his brain hurt in the most untolerable ways but he started to post more, engage with his fans.

Instagram dumps are such a religious thing for some people, he wasn't in that group until now. Having a picture perfect Instagram would let people have more connection with the places, his interests— perceive him differently and not some boring and flat boy with not much to say.

Like any driver, he had a stylist, a PR team, and other fancy stuff—which he didn’t like much because the main focus was on him, physically. His content was different now; it was full of sunsets, yachts, cars, and food pictures. He had to thank his team for lending him a professional camera—it made the quality ten times better.

"It's a lost cause." Oscar spoke as he carelessly dried his hair with a towel.

You vividly remember the first time he stepped into one of your classes—the typical shy kid who barely spoke. Other drivers came along with him, doing most of the talking, but they weren’t consistent in attending. For them, padel was just a way to kill time. Oscar, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about it—from the size of the court to executing the perfect shot with his racket. A few weeks after his first class, he started booking lessons on his own, demanding more focus and dedication.

He came around twice a week, and seeing him so often, you quickly grew close. So it wasn’t surprising to find him frequently emerging from the showers at the padel club. You had even learned to tolerate his wannabe tennis grunts when he hit the ball. At this point, you had already seen the worst of him.

"You’re just being hard on yourself. Not everything has to be perfect."

Like in any common locker room, there was a bench where people placed their clothes after showering. You sat there as you two talked.

No matter how comfortable you were around Oscar, you respected him, so you made a point of not looking at his shirtless torso.

"Don't give me a pity speech. I’ve heard enough of that." He really did sound tired of hearing it. But it was true—no one should be too hard on themselves for not meeting their highest expectations. Striving for perfection in everything wasn’t normal. Oscar’s mindset was too rigid, and being optimistic felt like an impossible task for him.

"Webber told me you started… photography? He even sounded worried about what you might do with that." Chuckles and laughter echoed through the warm changing room.

"Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty great. Still got a lot to work on," he admitted sincerely, making that classic uncertain face he always did when he wasn’t sure about something. His facial expressions were always amusing. "I got bored of photographing the plants on my balcony at home. Took some photos of Lando, and Hattie doesn’t even want the lens near her."

Laughter filled the room again—it felt like a comedy show at this point. But when it faded, you exchanged a tense glance, as if communicating telepathically. A mischievous smirk lit up his face.

"No." Your answer was immediate and firm, anticipating what was coming.

"I haven’t even said anything!" He raised his hands in mock innocence, his guilty smile still in place. Oh, you knew him too well.

"I won’t. I’m not photogenic."

"Please, just one time."

Oscar always swore on one-time things. But when something felt good, you tended to repeat it. He knew exactly how to take advantage of your kindness, always asking for harmless favors—because, in the end, you never said no to him.

————————————————————————

And there you were, in his Monaco apartment, on a morning when rain was pouring outside. Oscar always pointed out the differences between his current lifestyle and the one he had in Australia, the daily longing for home. That small place in Europe had its charm, and he wouldn’t complain, but he missed the wide-open spaces, the warmer weather, and even his mom’s cooking. Now he lived on the highest floor of the busiest avenue, in a cramped apartment so small that he barely had space to walk around.

"I brought donuts and coffee," You announced while cleaning your boots on the entrance mat.

"Cool, thank you. Would you mind sitting by the window? The light is majestic." His attention was focused on his camera, probably adjusting some tricky settings.

"Already bossing around?" Unbelievable. The kid already thought he was a professional photographer, giving orders and having the worst attitude.

You had a big trench coat on, surprisingly still soaked after the unstoppable rain. And it kept coming—people still struggling with their umbrellas, cars almost floating down the street. That’s what you could see from how high his apartment was.

The brown-eyed boy placed his face behind his huge, intimidating camera, yet somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated by it—after all, he was the one taking the photos. But then, an unexpected expression of discontent crossed his face, confusing you. Your brows furrowed instantly, maybe you weren’t pretty enough to be photographed. You relaxed your body, stopped posing—that was it. At least you tried.

"Take it off." Oscar’s index finger pointed at my jacket, his face continued hidden behind the camera. The view was limited, but his expression remained unreadable—no emotion, all seriousness. Clueless.

"It's freezing cold outside, you're insane." Despite your protest, you did as he told you—just like always, hating yourself for it. Your body leaned against the nearly immense open window, the breeze sneaked through with ease, making your skin shiver. Your face card wasn’t your main attribute, maybe your toned padel body was. Still, you couldn’t quite grasp why he chose you, considering all the contacts and friends he had. Favors were an unbreakable thing between you two, but, of course, you never owed him a thing.

A few more adjustments, and his camera was down again, poker face still tattooed all over him. With slow, measured steps, he walked closer until he stood right in front of you. His mannerisms were always soft and gentle, like he had been written by a woman. Not exactly naive, but delicate enough to make you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

Oscar set your coat aside, draping it over his vintage couch. His whole place had that aesthetic. You especially loved the Abu Dhabi carpet that stretched across the floor, its deep reddish tones were delightful. His eyes couldn’t help but dart down your slim silhouette. Your white sleeveless shirt, drenched from the rain, clung to your curves, turning entirely translucent against your skin.

Finally, your eyes connected, and you desperately searched for answers, whether in his gaze or through words. The driver was entirely focused on his task, calculating angles, observing the natural lighting, and analyzing your body. Over-analyzing your body.

You knew that look—the one men gave when they stared too long, leaving a disgusting feeling. But Oscar wasn’t like that. Yes, he was staring, but with such admiration and adoration that, for once, you didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, you felt pretty. Feminine. Reaching that level of femininity wasn’t easy. Padel and sports had always shaped your image, conditioning you to appear tough, stereotypically masculine. But under his gaze, all of that melted away.

You broke eye contact as the staring became too overwhelming for your liking, exceeding your daily dose of attention. You couldn’t just escape him because he was there, and you were working, or something like that. Your breathing hitched, and you involuntarily let out a low gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch was cold, just like your body. The only warmth came from the fire igniting in your cheeks. His fingers hooked around one of your white straps, which had fallen out of place.

God, you wished you could say a word, anything, but you were petrified.

“You look gorgeous.”

“You just say that hoping I’d say yes to another photoshoot. Your guinea pig.” The back-and-forth banter and sarcastic flirting didn’t end, but now you were playing silly enough to avoid any heartfelt compliment. You didn’t like those types of things because you never knew how to react, especially when they came from him. His contagious laughter filled the room and your world turned upside down.

Something always lingered between you two, and it was the expectedly obvious, taking into account the amount of time you spent together—padel mornings or sometimes afternoons, dinner nights if class ended late, and when he actually managed to wake up to his multiple alarms, cycling together. But it was casual because you never knew what could cross a man's mind; spending a whole day together could mean nothing to them, maybe he even saw you in a sisterly way. So you tried to chill, not giving it much importance—because, again, a compliment could mean nothing.

His free hand found its way to your nape, resting his palm there, barely cradling it. You had no choice but to regain eye contact; he had you cornered with his gaze—physically, too. Any cold once brought by the winter weather had vanished. Your skin was hot, almost burning. Oscar's gaze didn’t reflect frenzy or desire; he looked lost, even stunned.

“Let me kiss you, please.” He murmured hopelessly, his words caressing and sweetening your ears in the most shivering way.

“Oscar, professionally is not the best to-” It was just a matter of seconds before he silenced you in the most cliché way possible. His kisses mirrored his personality—timid and shy, as if he were afraid to go too far. Yet, at the same time, they were sweet and innocent, like a first kiss, completely inexperienced.

Something that you clearly weren't used to.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more close, letting each other feel how you teetered, how you edged by just a kiss. Your consent gave him more confidence, turning the encounter into something deeper, sloppier. His lips parted against yours with more urgency, the hesitation melting away as the two of you let each other get lost in the moment. His breath was uneven, intoxicatingly mixing with yours. The kiss grew needier, desperate, and hungry. The sound of your teeth crashing messily together was secondary as his tongue brushed against your lips, savoring, tasting, before he dared to explore further. The slick warmth, the breathy sounds between kisses, the way his body pressed against yours—it was thrilling in the best way.

“I never really liked padel that much, nor was I good at it. There was no chance of improving. But you know why I kept coming back.” Oscar's smile emerged in the middle of the kiss, his tone playful, hinting that he knew he’d been doing something wrong just for the fun of it. Paying for extra classes just to see your face more than once a week? Genius move.

“Oh, I'm so gonna kill you.” You warned him, still in disbelief, that he’d been such a fool, especially since you would’ve said yes to any date prior if he’d only had the courage. There was no need for this extreme and unnecessary padel. But, still, seeing him struggle was part of your routine—and you enjoyed it. Not wanting to hear any lame excuses, you pulled him in, deciding to stay glued to his lips for a very long time

#f1 #f1 fandom #f1 drivers #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fic #cowboyschumi #cowboyschumi writes #formula one fic #op #op81 x reader #op81 #op81 fic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff

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outer-andromeda · 1 day ago

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Usually I try to better clean up and color these... But I REALLY wanted to share 'em as soon as possible cuz I really like how they look already, sue me :')))

Some story time under the cut for those of you who want context >:000

((EDIT - Small TWs for some negative talk and mentions of grief. Also spoilers for the ending on Chapter 4 :00)

As mentioned in a previous post, Gabby and Doey's relationship is... Very strained after the events of the fourth chapter.

Doey joined the group (Gabby, Kissy and Ava) eventually while they were venturing as subtly as possible to avoid running into Huggy. It was a surprise, obviously - they all thought he was six feet underground since the aftermath of him crashing down. They were all relieved to know he was still alive, but something was different. He wasn't as jovial as his usual self was... He was just... Off. Quiet. Monotone.

(Which is understandable since the guy is literally GRIEVING the loss of the kids of the Safe Haven y'know- and he feels immense guilt for what happened)

At some point, they get separated - Kissy and Ava stick together, while Doey and Gabby venture on their own way, both groups hoping to join each other again eventually. Doey and Gabby still have that quiet dynamic going on, because the human guy doesn't want to make things any worse than they already are. So he tries to be the cheerful one. For both his and Doey's sakes. He tries as hard as he can. But it falls flat. And Gabby, despite himself, grows more and more irritated by Doey's unusual calmness. Something's obviously going on and he won't say anything about it.

Something happens that puts them in a dangerous situation, and everything spills out. Gabby wants to talk, he wants answers. Doey is trying to ignore it, but he's being pushed. And suddenly his anger blooms back out. And he lashes out on Gabby. Shouts all the words he hadn't gotten out. How he was never any good for the kids. How he could've done so much more. How if it wasn't for him, "they'd still be breathing and standing right now". How Gabby can't understand. And Gabby... Takes it. He stands there, listening to every single thing he says. Silently.

He's not afraid. And Doey notices. It's unnerving. It catches him completely off guard. It's like something is starting to break inside of him. Something he's not sure he wants to let shatter much more...

And then Gabby hugs him. And the thing in Doey's core is completely obliterated. And the crocodile tears are finally, finally let loose. And his shoulders finally relax to wrap themselves around the short man.

They talk after some VERY good comforting words from Gabby. They find Kissy and Ava after some searching, and they're back on track.

And from then on, their relationship changes back slowly to the small friendship they had formed in the past, plus more. They both understand and trust each other, and Doey feels relief from having someone he can confide in and let himself relax with. And just... Be a kid. Even if just for a bit. All three kids need that so badly, and Gabby tries his best to give that to them. To Doey. Because he, out of anyone, deserves a break the most.

#... oof. i uh. might come in and change some of all that because this is all one-shot and lots of it probably don't make any sense #I TRIED #I promise I can write sometimes. today just isn't the day I think whoops #ANYWAY- AU LOREEEE #Because I need Doey to be happy again damnit :((((#Immediate serotonin #+ gave a hug to the guy because GOODNESS GRACIOUS DOES HE NEED A THOUSAND #my art #doodle #writing #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime spoilers #doey #doey the doughman #self insert #ppt #Big Bro & Kids Shenanigans AU #PS. also keep in mind I'm French so uh... if some stuff don't make sense that might also explain why lmao

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cyber333angel · 1 day ago

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TOXIC-EX!ABBY ANDERSON X SWEETHEART!READER

a/n : there is plot to this but we lose it very quickly due to smutty yap i fear, soo much longer than usual, abby is very much of a meanie in this, some manipulation and a dash of hair pulling.. enjoy!

it was was time to get over her. you decided after weeks of crying over your now ex girlfriend it was time to move on, you knew abby wasn’t sitting around crying over the relationship so why should you? you saw peoples stories, abby drinking at parties and already flirting with a bunch of other girls so it was no use to cry over someone who wasn’t even thinking about you.

a friend of yours had invited you out to go to some frat house that lived near your campus to cheer you up but all you could think about was abby. abby always took you to parties that her hockey jock friends threw, abby was the one who had you sat on her lap while she made you take long swigs of her beer that she knew you didn’t like and abby was always teasing you in front of her friends with all her comments about how she had you screaming just last night. but you were going there to get your mind off her not to think of her, so you shoo’ed those thoughts away as you made it to the party with a plastered smile on your face.

so far it had been going good, you had a drink in your hand as you swayed faintly to the rowdy music playing on the speakers and you talked to a friend you knew, having the most fun you’d had in weeks.

all to be ruined when your eyes turn to see the woman you were trying to heal from this whole time, walking in with her arms on the shoulders of some girl. laughing as someone hands her a cup of beer, you really didn’t want to ruin the vibe, didn’t want to get upset. so your eyes flicker away from the scene, hiding amongst the crowd of your friends and talking to take your mind off of it.

but even for such a large house the place felt so small, everywhere you went abby was there, being obnoxious and showing off. it’s something you always complained about when the two of you were together and she would always wave it off, taking your mind off of it in a random bathroom with her fingers stuffed up your dress and her hands clasped at your mouth. you needed some space to breath so you walked up the stairs of the house to find a bathroom or just a empty space to breathe in. you found a room that’s decorated and fitted for a frat guy but it will do. you go to sit down on the bed, sitting with your cup as you played with the fabric of your dress. just breathing as you listen to the sound of the music and the bustling conversations of the people below you.

you were just sobering up when abby saw you sitting there on the bed, still cute as ever with the same sheepish behavior. she sees you before you see her, and she missed teasing you oh so much. you sigh when your eyes connect to hers and the woman of the hour is already looking at you with a conniving grin.

you roll your eyes as you get up to leave when abby finishes talking to whoever she was entertaining and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. “you’ve been avoiding me all night baby what happened?” that nickname was all that was needed to piss your off further, “im not your baby, don’t call me that. please move i need to leave.” referring to the door that abby was currently blocking and not making any effort to move from.

“you know I miss you..been thinking about you ever since you left, you know im sorry.” this was not what you needed to hear tonight, not right now while only on the verge of sobering up and getting over her. you knew exactly what she was up to, abby would always talk to you in that sweet tone when she wanted something from you and you would fall for it every time. it’s exactly why you found the courage to finally leave when you did. “that’s what you always say abby, I left because I was tired of forgiving you over and over.” you say shaking your head, stepping back when you hear abby walk closer to you, all the space in the seemingly large room running away from you as you bump into the bed and abby holds you close.

“just one more chance hm? promise ill be good for you sweet girl.” her body guards you fully, she must have started working out even more since you left, her arms were so massive looking. the proximity was forcing you to take in her intoxicating scent and become drunk all over again. even though you wont admit it, you missed the scent of abby, it was always what you needed after hard day and coming home to lay on her was all you needed. “abby..” you use your last (but weak) attempt to not give in, pushing your head away from her with a whine. “missed this pretty face.. give me one kiss yeah?” she says hooking a finger under your jaw, making you look up at her, smiling when you meet her eyes. “there she is, i know you missed this too mama..” she says, her hands finding the globes of your ass as she lowers her head down to yours.

she kisses you so softly at first, sucking at fat of your lips keenly and with gentle hesitation, but it was clearly an act when she starts kissing you more and more roughly. sliding her tongue deeper down your throat and moving her hand to your waist with the other hand to your neck just to taste you deeper. you automatically melt into abbys hold, months of trying to forget her all down the drain while you take in what you missed so much. “let’s move to the bed kay?” and you nod slightly into her chest, smiling when she lifts you and has you sitting on her lap while she sits on the bed. “arms up.” you don’t falter to raise your arms up, letting abby lift up your shirt and leave you in your bra, letting her take control.

she kisses the skin of your breast that’s spilling out of your bra, warm hands holding your waist close to hers. “missed these too..” and she manages to make you laugh like she used to, “abby!” you say as she bounces her right leg under you. “i can try something else right angel? wanna make you feel good..” and at this point you can’t even think of denying her so you nod, letting abby handle you and move you to the spot in between the pillows of the bed. laying you down with her body in front of your closed legs, peeling them open with her arms as you attempt to hide in the fabric of your shirt, watching her from above. she just handles you so naturally that everything was done without words, tapping your hips with her fingers meaning for you to lift your hips so she could slide your panties off, not so subtlety putting them in her pocket.

now your all spread out for her, already damp from the kissing as your legs fidget over the bed. “anyone else been between these legs since I was gone, try to please you like I can?” you wouldn’t do that t’me would you baby?” she’s acting possessive already and you only just went back to her, but you could care less with how good you knew you were about to feel. you shake your head no quickly as you look at her with needy eyes, “didnt see anyone else abs..only you.” you were completely under her spell and she hadn’t even touched you yet, placing her hand under your chin to smooth her thumb over your cheek, smiling down at you.

“yeah i know you’re my good girl, could never find someone to make this pretty pussy feel good like I do huh?” she whispers, tilting her head to the side as her hand travels down to your cunt, sliding them over your glossy bud slowly. in this moment you wouldn’t think abby could ever be mean, she had the most beautiful smile looking down at you while she pushed the tip of her fingers into your hole, teasing them in and out as your stomach tensed. “you know you have to be quiet right? walls aren’t that thick here and you know how you get..”

but there it was, the mean girl you had forgotten about suddenly making your mind all anxious, because you do know how you get when abby has her hands on you. you let her lay you down with her sweet words and promises without thinking. when your with abby you could never keep your voice down, weather it was your broken moans or pants her hands could never hold them in. and there was a whole crowd of people below you maybe you should take a pause on this, “mm wait abs..” you whine, a nervous croak leaving your throat.

her fingers slide in deeper into you as you writhe, back arching off the bed a bit as you feel her two large fingers stretching at your hole. “you know it’s too late for that, look at how wet you are..” her whispers getting quieter as she dips her head to your lips, kissing you with her fingers prodding so snuggly at your walls. her other hand trails along your body, pinching at your nipples all the way to the back of your head, supporting it so you could reach closer to her.

mewling when you feel a harsh pull at the back of your head, whining into abbys mouth as you hands fly to hers. of course she wasn’t pulling your hair that hard, just enough to alarm you and make you pay attention to what she had to say. “you love me right baby? hm, need you to say it for me..” she sounded desperate almost, a pouted look on her face as her fingers sped up. a third finger prodding at the two already twisting and turning inside you, you could almost cry. “mn lo-love..” you really couldn’t focus with her pressuring you like this, every immanent thing in the room zeroing into your mind. the darkness of the room along with the blue led lights that lit it up, the perfect scene with the music bumping below you and of course abby.

you get pulled back when abby stops kissing at your skin, her breast stop resting against yours as she props herself up. feeling a harsher pull on your hair and the loss of her soaked fingers in your needy cunt. “need you to speak up mama. you love what? love my fingers or my tongue, what is it?” demanding you to speak, and making you so needy for her fingers to be back inside you it’s like you could almost say you did love her fingers. “no i love you abby! love you s-so much..”

god could she get inside your head, you were too busy cumming all over fingers to even notice the smile on her face. “i know you do baby..missed this pretty pussy too..” your hips shook against the bed, grabbing at anything you could get your hands on in the moment. the comforter, the pillows, abbys biceps, she was still thrusting her fingers into you with her thumb circling at your sensitive clit. “oh i know, my good girl is feeling so good huh?”

abby had pulled a good two other orgasms out of you that night, one with her rubbing her pussy against yours and the other with her mouth. she probably could have got more if the two of you weren’t interrupted by a knock on the door, apparently the party was about to be over and you had made such a mess all over a bed that wasn’t even yours, you were mortified to say the least. she teased you about it for a whole week and it made you so embarrassed everytime, always bringing up the look on your face when you heard the bang on the door while she was snickering. though the mission of getting over abby failed, you got your girlfriend back and you couldn’t be happier.

#abby x reader <3 #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #tlou smut #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #tlou part 2 #this fuckass ending #I do nawt like how this came out

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gottencents · 18 hours ago

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Dibs - Jennie Kim

pairing. meangirl!jennie x loser!reader

synopsis. jennie kim the school dubs as the it girl & of course a mean girl has called dibs on the schools biggest loser not to bully but to love ?

Jennie Kim had always been the center of attention. She was the undisputed queen of the school—head cheerleader, top of every best-dressed list, and the girl every student wanted to be or be with. She walked through the halls like she owned them, because, well… she did.

But nothing turned heads more than her obsession with Y/N L/N.

Y/N was the school’s biggest loser. At least, that’s what people called them. They weren’t part of any social circle, didn’t care about fashion, and had a permanent residence in the library. While Jennie was basking in the spotlight, Y/N was content sitting in the shadows. They weren’t bullied, per se—more like ignored.

Except by Jennie.

Jennie, who stared at them from across the cafeteria.

Jennie, who shut down anyone who had a single bad thing to say about them.

Jennie, who had once made an entire group of guys apologize after laughing at Y/N’s thrift-store hoodie.

Jennie, who was absolutely head over heels in love with the school’s most oblivious outcast.

And today, she was going to do something about it.

The cafeteria was buzzing with its usual energy—students chatting, music playing from someone’s speaker, and Jennie sitting at her usual table with her usual crowd. Lisa was talking about some new dance move, Jisoo was scrolling through her phone, and Rosé was engaged in a deep conversation about the ethics of pineapple on pizza.

Jennie, however, was not listening.

Her eyes were locked onto Y/N, who sat alone at the corner of the cafeteria, lazily eating their sandwich while reading a book.

Lisa followed Jennie’s gaze and sighed. “You’re doing it again.”

Jennie didn’t look away. “Doing what?”

“The whole ‘I’m-in-love-but-refuse-to-admit-it’ thing.”

Jisoo smirked, finally looking up from her phone. “I still don’t get it. You could have literally anyone. Why Y/N?”

Jennie tore her gaze away just long enough to glare at them. “Because I called dibs.”

Lisa snorted. “Dibs? That’s not how people work.”

Jennie crossed her arms. “I don’t care. Y/N is mine.”

Rosé raised an eyebrow. “Does Y/N know that?”

Jennie opened her mouth, then closed it. A beat of silence.

Lisa laughed. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

Jennie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m making my move.”

Jisoo blinked. “Wait—now?”

“Yes, now.”

Jennie stood, smoothing down her designer skirt before making her way across the cafeteria, her every step turning heads.

Whispers followed her. People watched with wide eyes, some elbowing their friends as they noticed where she was headed.

Y/N, of course, remained completely unaware, flipping a page in their book.

That is, until Jennie plopped down across from them and stole a fry from their tray.

Y/N finally looked up, blinking in confusion. “…Did you just steal my fry?”

Jennie smirked, twirling the fry between her fingers before eating it. “You weren’t eating them fast enough.”

Y/N stared at her, unimpressed. “Do you need something, Jennie?”

Jennie propped her chin up on her hand, batting her lashes. “I just wanted to keep you company.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And that has nothing to do with the fact that people are staring like you just walked onto the loser’s table?”

Jennie feigned innocence. “What? I can’t sit with my favorite person?”

Y/N gave her a look. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never spoken to me before.”

Jennie grinned. “Not my fault you avoid me.”

“I avoid everyone.”

Jennie hummed, stealing another fry. “That’s cute.”

Y/N groaned, setting their book down. “Okay, seriously—what do you want?”

Jennie leaned forward, her voice dropping into something softer, more genuine. “I want you to let me take you on a date.”

Silence.

Y/N blinked. Once. Twice. “…A date.”

Jennie nodded. “Yeah, you know. Those things where two people go out together, and one of them falls madly in love with the other.”

Y/N gave her an unimpressed stare. “So you just assume I’d be the one falling in love?”

Jennie smirked. “I already have.”

Y/N’s brain short-circuited. “…What.”

Jennie rested her chin on her palm, watching them with the kind of intensity that made it hard to breathe. “I’ve liked you for years. I was just waiting for you to notice.”

Y/N blinked again. “Jennie. You’re literally the most popular girl in school.”

Jennie shrugged. “And?”

“And I’m me.”

Jennie tilted her head. “Exactly. You’re you. And I happen to think you’re perfect.”

Y/N opened their mouth, then closed it. For the first time in their life, they had no idea what to say.

Jennie leaned forward even more, whispering just for them to hear—

“So… what do you say?”

Y/N swallowed. “…You’re not going to stop bothering me if I say no, are you?”

Jennie grinned. “Nope.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing their temple. “Fine. One date.”

Jennie beamed, standing up as if she’d just won the lottery. “Great! I’ll pick you up Friday. Don’t be late.”

Y/N watched in stunned silence as Jennie walked away, leaving the entire cafeteria whispering and staring.

Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé looked at Jennie expectantly when she returned to her seat.

Jennie smirked. “Told you. Dibs.”

For the rest of the day, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

It wasn’t paranoia—people were actually staring at them. In the hallways, in class, even when they went to their locker, whispers followed in their wake.

Did you see Jennie sit with them at lunch?

I heard she asked them out!

Is this some kind of joke?

By the time the final bell rang, Y/N’s head was pounding. They had spent their entire high school life flying under the radar, and now, thanks to Jennie Kim, that was officially over.

They trudged toward their locker, exhausted, only to find her already waiting there, leaning casually against the wall.

Jennie smirked when she saw them. “Hey, cutie.”

Y/N groaned. “Please don’t call me that.”

Jennie tilted her head. “Would you prefer ‘my future spouse’?”

Y/N shut their locker with more force than necessary. “Do you ever stop?”

Jennie grinned. “Nope.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing their temple. “Look, Jennie, what’s your deal? I mean, really.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “My deal?”

“Yeah. You’re… you. And I’m me. We don’t make sense.”

Jennie’s expression softened, and for the first time since this whole ordeal started, she looked genuine.

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

Y/N hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “Because you’re popular, rich, and everyone in this school either worships you or wants to date you. And me?” They motioned to themselves. “I don’t even think half the school remembers my name.”

Jennie took a step closer, her gaze locked onto them. “I remember it.”

Y/N felt their heart stutter.

Jennie took another step. “I remember the way you always choose the seat by the window in class because you like the natural light.”

Another step.

“I remember how you only ever eat peanut butter sandwiches for lunch because you think cafeteria food is a government conspiracy.”

Y/N’s face burned. “I—”

Jennie smirked. “I remember how you always chew on the end of your pen when you’re stuck on a math problem. How you roll your eyes when you’re flustered. How your nose scrunches up when you laugh.”

She was so close now that Y/N could feel the warmth radiating off her.

Jennie tilted her head, her voice dropping into something softer. “You might not think you’re special, Y/N, but I do. And I don’t care if the rest of the school doesn’t see it.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “…You really like me?”

Jennie let out a soft laugh. “I called dibs on you. That’s basically a love confession.”

Y/N snorted despite themselves, shaking their head. “You’re impossible.”

Jennie grinned. “And yet, here you are, still talking to me.”

Y/N sighed. “I hate that you have a point.”

Jennie smirked, reaching out to adjust the collar of their hoodie, her fingers brushing against their neck for just a second.

“Get used to it, loser. You’re stuck with me now.”

And as Jennie sauntered away, leaving Y/N standing there with a racing heart and a flushed face, one thought crossed their mind:

They were so, so screwed.

Y/N stood frozen in the middle of the hallway long after Jennie walked away, their thoughts racing at a million miles per hour.

How was this their life now?

One minute, they were just a nobody, and the next, Jennie Kim—the most untouchable girl in school—was calling dibs on them like they were her personal treasure. And now? Now they had a date with her.

A date.

Y/N groaned, pressing their forehead against their locker.

“Uhh… are you okay?”

Y/N turned their head to see their classmate, Mark, giving them a concerned look.

“No,” Y/N deadpanned.

Mark blinked. “What happened?”

Y/N exhaled dramatically. “Jennie Kim.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. That.”

Y/N lifted their head, narrowing their eyes. “Wait—you knew she liked me?”

Mark gave them an incredulous look. “Dude, everyone knew.”

Y/N gawked. “How? I didn’t even know!”

Mark shrugged. “It was kinda obvious. The staring, the shutting down anyone who talked bad about you, the fact that she nearly started a fight with Minho when he tried asking you out last year—”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh.” Mark scratched the back of his neck. “You didn’t know about that?”

“No, I did not know about that!”

Mark winced. “Yeah, uh… Minho made some joke about you being a ‘charity case’ for the school and how Jennie should date ‘someone on her level,’ and she kinda—”

“What?”

“—threw her iced coffee at him.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “She what?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Then she told him, and I quote, ‘If Y/N isn’t on my level, then maybe I should try lowering myself to yours and see if that makes me want to throw up less.’”

Y/N stared.

Mark shrugged. “Anyway, Minho transferred schools after that, so.”

Y/N still hadn’t closed their mouth. “You’re telling me Jennie Kim has been defending my honor for years, and I just never noticed?”

Mark gave them a flat look. “You walk through life like a background character. So, yeah.”

Y/N groaned, dragging a hand down their face. “I hate this school.”

Mark patted their shoulder. “Good luck on your date.”

Y/N groaned again.

If Y/N thought the attention yesterday was bad, today was so much worse.

The moment they walked into school, the whispers started up again. People glanced at them in the hallways, whispered behind their hands, and a few brave souls even nodded in approval at them like they had just won some secret competition.

By lunch, Y/N was exhausted.

They sat at their usual table in the farthest corner of the cafeteria, hoping for some peace and quiet. But, of course, that was too much to ask.

Because Jennie Kim was heading straight toward them.

Again.

And this time, she wasn’t alone.

Lisa, Rosé, and Jisoo followed closely behind her, their faces filled with amused curiosity. The entire cafeteria watched as Jennie plopped down in the seat directly next to Y/N—so close their shoulders were pressed together.

Y/N swallowed. “Uh—”

Jennie stole a fry from their tray again. “Hi.”

Lisa smirked. “Hope you don’t mind some company.”

Y/N stared at the four of them, then at the way Jennie was completely invading their personal space, and sighed. “Do I even have a choice?”

Jennie grinned. “Nope.”

Rosé giggled, taking a seat across from them. “You’re funny.”

Jisoo rested her chin on her hand. “So. Y/N. How does it feel knowing Jennie’s been secretly in love with you this whole time?”

Y/N nearly choked. “I—”

Jennie smacked Jisoo’s arm. “Unnecessary.”

Lisa leaned forward. “Nah, but seriously. You really had no clue?”

Y/N hesitated before sighing. “Not even a little.”

Rosé gasped. “Not even when she defended you all those times?”

Y/N frowned. “I didn’t know she was defending me! No one told me!”

Lisa whistled. “Damn. You’re really out here living life on airplane mode, huh?”

Jennie rolled her eyes but was still watching Y/N closely, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of their sleeve.

Y/N sighed, shaking their head. “I still don’t get it.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “Get what?”

Y/N looked at her. “Why me? Of all the people in this school, why me?”

Jennie held their gaze for a moment before speaking, her voice softer than before.

“Because you don’t care about any of this.” She gestured vaguely to the cafeteria, to the stares, the whispers, the constant attention. “You’re not like the people who only like me for my status. You don’t try to impress me, or be something you’re not. You’re just… you.”

Y/N felt their heart skip a beat.

Lisa fake wiped a tear. “Damn, that was deep.”

Jennie shot her a glare.

Jisoo clapped her hands together. “Alright, so when’s the wedding?”

Y/N groaned. “Can we not?”

Jennie smirked. “Not yet. Let me at least take them on a date first.”

Y/N buried their face in their hands.

Rosé giggled. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Lisa nodded. “Agreed.”

Jennie leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as she whispered—

“I told you. You’re stuck with me now.”

And for some reason, despite all the chaos, Y/N found that they didn’t mind it.

Not one bit.

#cents works #blackpink x reader #blackpink jennie x reader #jennie kim x reader #jennie x reader #blackpink jennie #jennie #jennie kim #jennie kim x fem reader #blackpink x fem reader

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oysternymph · 2 days ago

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Jade x reader

‘Nature walk’

Notes: Yuu is gender neutral and as such they/them pronouns are used, not beta read, fluff, slightly ooc. Another older fic that I’m reposting here for my TWST x reader series, I hope all the Jade Leech fans enjoy and that I did this silly eel justice!

Wc: 1,747

Due to Yuu not officially being a student of Night Raven College, they weren’t in any clubs. At least on paper they weren’t. Yuu often switched between clubs every day, usually against their will. Somedays they’d be dragged along to help Vil with props at the film club, other times Idia would shyly approach them and explain he wanted to play a new game but they needed extra players, so they’d be in board game club that day. Thankfully they rarely had to go into any of the sports clubs, mostly due to them all using magic. But basketball club was different. Ace would usually invite them, and he’d also usually miss every single hoop he tried to make. Though Yuu always did their best to cheer their friend on.

Floyd and Jamil on the other hand were great at basketball, Jamil for his genuine skill, and Floyd due to his height, didn’t even have to jump to get the ball through the basket half of the time!

The two usually wouldn’t talk much to the magicless student, either being on their phone during breaks or talking with the rest of their team. But today was different. The moment Yuu sat down in the bleachers, Floyd waved and skipped over to them, a carefree but toothy grin on his face. He laid down on the bleachers looking up at the prefect with the same goofy expression.

“Hiya shrimpy. So…I got a really important favor to ask ya. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna pull out a contract so hear me out, okay?”

“Okay?”

“Hehehe…You don’t have a club. That’s really sad cause you can’t participate in any school events involving the clubs! Did you know my brother has a club?”

“Oh, he does? What club is he in?”

“Mmm Mountain Lovers club! Or is it Mountain Hikers? I don’t know, but he’s the only member in his club. It’s really sad. Since you don’t have anything keeping you in one club, you should join him tomorrow. It’d really mean a lot to him, shrimpy.”

Despite how innocent the request was, Yuu couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy about it. Both of the Leech twins, along with their best friend and dorm leader, were a shady bunch of people. Not to mention Yuu was still slightly salty at the trio for trying to steal their dorm.

“Maybe he likes being the only guy there? I mean even when I’ve seen Jade in a group he kinda just…stands there.”

“Mhm, that’s cause he only talks to people he thinks are interesting. Like you and Azul. If either of you bored us we’d leave you. But seriously, you should talk to him more. He really likes spending time with you.”

“Listen, Floyd. Did you and your brother get into a fight? Are you trying to mess with him by spending me to his club?”

“Huh? Why would you think that? Unlike my brother I have friends like crabby and sea snake and sea otter and goldfishy. But Jade…has me and Azul. That’s kinda it. I just think he needs more friends.”

Floyd sounded genuine, which contrasted drastically compared to his normal tone of voice, which ranged anywhere from mocking to bored. With a sigh, Yuu sat up, looking at the much taller eel.

“Okay. I’ll go to your brothers club tomorrow. But in exchange…get me more of that fancy tuna. Grim keeps asking for it but it costs so much. I can’t afford it.”

“Heh, okay. Baby seal will get some fancy tuna and Jade will have a new friend!”

Before Yuu could say anything else, the sophomore jumped up from his seat and got back onto the court, pulling Ace close and messing with his hair as the other struggled. Despite agreeing, Yuu couldn’t help but feel nervous. A sinking feeling settingly in their gut. Instead of staying longer to help the team clean up, Yuu left instead and made their way back to their dorm. After feeding Grim, the student passed out on the couch.

The next day went by painfully slow as if every second was another second before their doom. It would have been easy to try and escape back to their dorm, they could just say they had a lot of homework or that they were feeling sick. They could even blame the cafeteria food despite it being five-star meals in there every day. But any chance of escape was crushed as Yuu exited their last class only to see Jade standing outside the door, a large smile on his face as he spotted the human. He was also dressed…differently than usual. He wore an oversized track jacket along with track leggings and high end tennis shoes.

“Hello, prefect. I was informed that you are interested in the Mountain Lover’s Club. Oh my…those aren’t proper hiking shoes. Do you have any pairs of hikers boots or a good pair of tennis shoes?”

“Oh…Nope. I just have these, a pair of slides, and slippers. I guess this means-”

Before they could even finish their sentence, Jade took their hand and began dragging the student behind him.

“I feared this would be the case, so I put together a proper hiking outfit for you in our club room. You may get dressed then we can get going. I picked out a novice trail so you won’t strain yourself.”

“...How do you know your outfit and the shoes will fit me? What if they don’t?”

“Oh don’t worry. I simply asked Rook for your measurements. He knows the measurements of everyone on campus, I assumed you would be in that list and I was correct.”

Of course Rook helped him out…the student sighed before Jade brought them into a small classroom, leaving a moment later so they could get dressed.

To be fair, Jade and his twin had good taste in clothes and shoes. Making the outfit that was chosen for hiking actually rather nice. A few minutes later Yuu emerged with a similar outfit to Jade’s, though unlike the eel’s clothes, which were gray and purple, the shorter students outfit was gray and pink.

“Ah, I knew you’d look wonderful in that. And now we match, how delightful.”

“We do match…Wanna take a photo?”

Yuu instantly regretted their words as Jade stared down at them with a blank expression, only for an awkward smile to grow on his face a second later.

“I would really enjoy that…”

Jade said, his voice much quieter than it usually was. Yuu then took out their phone and opened the camera, holding it out to Jade so he could take the picture due to him being the tallest. And instead of simply taking it, Jade kneeled down to Yuu’s height and put a hand on their shoulder, giving a soft smile as the picture was taken.

“You’ll send it to me when we get back, right?”

“Of course. But…”

“…Is something the matter?”

…Jade looked kinda sweet when he didn’t show off his abnormally sharp teeth, though that statement didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

“Nothing, I just think we should take some more pictures together when we’re hiking.”

Seemingly satisfied with Yuu’s answer, Jade nodded as the two went on their way to the woods behind the school. Despite how sunny the day was, it was still cool enough for neither of them to get overheated as they finally made it to the school's campgrounds.

“Yuu, may we take another picture here?”

Jade chuckled softly as the shorter student replied by taking out their phone again, the two posing as another photo was taken.

“Now, since it’s your first time hiking we’re not going far. I mostly wanted to forage for mushrooms today anyways. I hope that’s alright.”

“It works for me. It’s actually kinda nice to be out here so…”

“Ah, did you expect it to be different? I only hike on days with good weather. The last thing you want to do is put your body at risk of hypothermia or hyperthermia!”

“Ah. No I meant…I guess I was a bit scared to come out here with you. Floyd was being really shady and I assumed he was trying to pull a prank on me.”

Yuu instantly regretted their words, Jade’s gentle smile fading, not into a look of anger or mischief, but rather one that seemed sad.

“I mean he said you had taken a liking to me and I just found it hard to believe, I apologize if I offended you.”

“…I’ve always had an interest in you. Though I believe he was trying to tease, not you but me.”

Not understanding his words, the sophomore simply tilted their head, as if asking for Jade to continue. The eel sighed for a moment before looking away from his peer, only then did he begin to speak.

“…I like you, Yuu. You are very interesting to me, and you impress me with everything you do. I understand you probably think this is some joke or something of that sort but I assure you it isn’t. I wanted you to spend more time with me so you could hopefully feel the same one day. Floyd said he’d find a way and…now here we are.”

“…You’re cute.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

Jade said as he turned around, staring down at the student with a shocked expression, which in turn caused Yuu to laugh softly.

“You’re cute…You could’ve just asked me yourself. I’ve never rejected anyone who wants to spend time with me. I wouldn’t have rejected you…I…I’m willing to try things out with you if you’re alright being quiet about it for a bit. Last thing I want to hear is Ace and Decue and Grim nagging me about who I’m dating-“

Jade suddenly kneeled down in front of the student, taking their hand and leaving a soft kiss on it, causing for Yuu to go speechless.

“Anything for you, ask and you shall receive.”

“…Heh. You really are cute.”

As Yuu left a quick kiss on top of Jade’s head, the eel giggled softly, standing up a moment later, still holding onto their hand.

“Now…Let’s go look for your mushrooms.”

“…Being with me means you’ll have to taste any new mushroom recipe I make. You can live with that, right?”

“As long as it’s edible I’ll eat it.”

Jade chuckled again as the two continued their walk, soft smiles on their faces as they began to search for mushrooms.

#lynnycore #twst x yuu #twst x you #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech twst #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader #fluff #writing requests #silly eel #fanfic

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 10 - Look And See

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Going back to my roots (forced proximity)

Chapter title from Thank You by Led Zeppelin

Word Count: 17k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You, Sam, and Dean finish a case from Ruby, and it has consequences. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 9 - Chapter 11

Read on A03!

“Can you drive any fucking slower?”

Dean shot Her a glare in the rearview mirror, trying not to get lost in how Her eyes were shining in the low light of dusk, or how all Her features seemed to be washed in the cool, pastel colors of sunset. “No, Princess, because I’m trying not to give the cops an excuse to pull us over after you blew our fucking cover-“

“I did not blow our cover,” She hissed. “I said we needed to leave now, and you decided to stick around and try to find more caviar-“

“We weren’t done, and I was hungry-“

“You’re always hungry! And we were done, you just don’t listen to me-“

“Maybe I don’t listen to you because you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Dean could almost feel Her gaze burning and twisting on his skin. “We both know that I’m the only one who knows exactly what I'm talking about-“ She paused, and Dean could see Her giving Sam an apologetic grimace in the mirror. “Sorry, Sam-“

“It’s fine.” Sam shrugs, his attention forcefully fixed on the book in his lap. Dean had a feeling Sam had entirely been tuning them out. “I mean, you’re not really wrong.”

“Don’t tell her that, Sammy, she’ll explode from her ego-“

“My ego? That’s fucking rich from you, Winchester-“

His grip began to strangle Baby’s wheel. “At least my head is in the game, sweetheart-“

“My head is in the game-“

“Didn’t look like it was,” Dean hissed. “It looked like you were more worried about flirting with that old son of a bitch rather than getting the knife-“

“It’s not a knife,” She snapped. “And I wasn’t flirting, I was looking for information, dumbass-“

“Yeah, that seemed to really pay off for you-“

“It did-“

“Dean.” Sam cut in with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You guys can keep fighting, I just want to make sure you remember-“

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m going to Norfolk, Virginia, and the black-eyed bitch will meet us there.”

“Ruby’s trying to help-“

“Well, shit load of good it’s doing, we didn’t even get the damn knife-“

“It’s not a knife.” She leaned forward, resting Her forearms on the bench, and Dean could feel the heat from Her body. It was a little dizzying, and She smelled like sugar and fruit, there was that damn fruit again-

Sammy was frowning, shaking his head. “Ruby said it was a blade-“

“And She was wrong. And I’m-“

“Right?” Dean muttered under his breath, glowering at the road. “You’re always right, aren’t you-“

“Yeah, I am.” Her words were clipped, and Dean hated how that made his heart split and howl in his chest. “And you better say thank you, because I didn’t break my nail just for-“

Dean snorted, and he hated the sound. It was louder than it should be, and toxic in his ears. He hated all of this. He didn’t know how to stop it. “How fucking tragic, her majesty broke a nail-“

“It hurt, dickwad. And,” She leaned back, only for a second, and Dean had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from reaching over the bench and pulling Her back to where he could still feel her warmth. “You’re welcome.”

Sam was frowning, twisting in his seat to look at Her, and Dean wished he could do the same. Especially as Sammy gasped, and he felt as if his jaw was going to snap and his teeth were going to grind to ash. What was She doing that made Sam gasp, why did She always have to be so awesome and insufferable and annoying and brilliant, why couldn’t Dean just know when to quit, why wouldn’t she just leave him alone to die in goddamn peace-

“When did you-“

“While Dean was drinking half the bar,” She cut Sam off with almost a sneer, and it was burning over Dean’s head. “I got the museum curator to show me the collection.”

“And that’s-“

“Yep.”

Sam swallowed, and when Dean glanced over, the kid’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. “And you’re sure-“

“I’m always sure, Samuel.” Her tone was smug, and Dean could picture the proud, pretty smirk on Her face. “And it’s not a knife. It’s an arrowhead.”

Sam reached back, Dean heard a slapping sound, and when he glanced in the mirror She was clutching something to Her chest, glaring at the front seat.

“Don’t touch it.” She snapped, and Sam blinked at Her.

“It’s just a rock,” Sam said Her name carefully, shooting Dean a what the hell is happening look.

Dean didn’t know. With Her, Dean never fucking knew.

“It’s not- You-“ She took a deep breath, Her voice suddenly far too soft and measured. “Just, I’m going to hold onto it, okay?”

“But-“

“Sam. Please.”

Sam frowned at Her, but nodded, and Dean scowled.

He had to bite down vile, spitting words about Her thinking she was better, about not even trusting them to hold the weapon. There was a line, and Dean refused to cross it. He couldn’t stop toeing right up to it—driven by the bitter, furious part of him that still hated how She’d lied about being sick, how She’d left him fucking dying in the hospital, how She was better and Dean couldn’t be allowed to have her—but he wouldn’t cross it. He couldn’t leave a real mark on Her. It would fully drive Her away, make her finally snap and leave him in the mud for good.

And She’d been working with them for several weeks, and Dean was still being a selfish piece of shit.

He couldn’t fall out of Her orbit. He couldn’t bring himself to save Her from himself, from all the horror that came with being in his life, but he couldn’t hate Her enough to lie that he didn’t want Her here and mean it. He couldn’t just mean it.

Dean couldn’t sneer that She knew everything and believe it to be the truth in his bones. He couldn’t snap that She’d been flirting with that old asshole—and he knew it was the museum curator, and he knew it was for the case, and he didn’t care—and not put extra venom in his voice because She wasn’t smiling at Dean like that. She was barely smiling at Dean at all.

He didn’t blame Her. He was being a dick, but it was for Her own good. He was lying, but it was for Her.

He repeated, over and over in the dead of night, that it was for Her. For the best. And, it was but he still couldn’t quite convince himself.

He had five months left. If he was smart, Dean would stop swallowing his crueler words and just vomit up every false reason he hated Her—She was too pretty, She did strange things to his heart and body he didn’t like not being able to control, he’d follow Her anywhere but knew she wouldn’t do the same for him—until She left, and he’d rescued Her from caring about him.

Because Dean was damned.

But he never wanted to be damned for hurting Her.

So he was being a fucking asshole and not crossing the line, because he wanted Her. He couldn’t stop wanting Her, he didn’t know how, it had become such a critical part of him now—to always crash down, down, down into Her and that soft, sliver light that She always cast over the pit inside of him, even when She hated him and he was supposed to hate Her—that Dean was pretty sure he’d only ever stop wanting Her when his soul was carved up and split into pieces.

Yet he still wouldn’t tell Her. He still couldn’t allow himself to look Her in her bright eyes and tell her I’m dying, Princess. I’m pretty much already dead.

Dean didn’t have a good enough memory to keep track of all the lies he was telling Her. And Sammy was barely creative enough to come up with a proper story that explained the Devil’s Gate and Azazel and Lilith while completely omitting the whole demon deal thing.

But they managed.

And She had no idea.

She believed they were hunting Lilith because that was their job. That they were researching crossroads demon because Lilith was known to work with them. That they were working with Ruby, getting this arrowhead for Her, because they needed anything at all to try and kill Lilith.

Dean had called Bobby, and told him that, under no circumstances, could he tell Her about the deal. About Dean’s timer, and how it was slowly creeping closer and closer to zero. That they were hunting together again, and Dean wouldn’t ask Bobby why the hell he’d lied about Her being sick, as long as Bobby didn’t rat them out.

“I won’t say anythin’ unprompted,” Bobby had grunted through the phone. “But if she asks, I ain’t gonna lie to her.”

Dean had scowled into the air, keeping a careful eye on the sidewalk through the window. She and Sammy had gone to get coffee. Dean had needed to wrap this up before they got back. “Bobby-“

“No. You know you’re my family, boy, but she’s always gonna be first.” Bobby had sighed. “Listen, I won’t tell her ‘less she catches it herself. But you know she’s far from dumb, Dean. She’ll pick up that something’s off, and there ain’t nothin’ that’s gonna save you from how pissed she’ll be that you kept it from her. At least try and give her the dignity of learnin’ it from you.”

Bobby had hung up, and Dean hadn’t told Her. He couldn’t. Bobby and Sam didn’t understand that he just fucking couldn’t.

Couldn’t tell Her.

Couldn’t fully push Her away.

“How are you sure?” Sam was watching Her carefully, and Dean kept his eyes on the road. She was there. Right now, Her being there was all the relief he could allow himself. “I mean, I trust you, but we just need to be positive before we show this to Ruby-“

“It’s jade, and that’s what Ruby told you it would be, right?”

Sammy nodded. “Yeah, but-“

“And if you trust her-“

“I do.”

Dean frowned. Sam, for some reason, did seem to trust Ruby. Dean didn’t, because She was a demon. Being trustworthy was against her freakin’ nature.

“Well, she said it would have writing on it, right-“

“Yeah, but-“

“Look.” Dean saw Her shift in the rearview mirror, and felt Her brush his arm as she leaned back forward.

Little sparks flew through his body, and he sat a little taller, and he could see Her side-profile in his periphery and She was glowing, and there was the fruit again-

She was trying to make him crash the car.

“That’s Hebrew.” She tapped the arrowhead she spoke. “That’s Arabic, and that’s-“

“Latin.” Sam finished, and Dean rolled his eyes. Fucking nerds. “What about that one-“

She jerked Her hand back as Sam went to touch the arrowhead, and elbowed Dean in the shoulder.

He grunted, gritting his teeth as the dull pain. “Son of a bitch-“

“Shit, sorry, De-“

“Whatever.” He muttered, refusing to look Her in the eyes. She’d almost called him De. And maybe She’d been about to say Dean, but that wasn’t any better. His whole body felt like it was buzzing and heavy, and took a tight grip on the wheel to stop himself from leaning closer to Her. “Answer Sammy’s question.”

“Yeah, it’s, um-“ She swallowed. Dean could goddamn feel Her gaze. “Sorry, it’s just like, witch symbols. Probably.”

Sam’s face twisted slightly, and Dean didn’t understand that look. It was more tense than Sam’s usual, doubtful bitch-face. It was almost pained. Weary.

“Probably?” He asked, and She shrugged.

“Yeah. You’re the one who said it’s a witch artifact-“

“Ruby said it’s a witch artifact, I just passed it on. And, I dunno, can you not tell-“

“Tell what?” Her voice became clipped again, and something in the air shifted. Became heavier, more taut.

“That it’s a witch artifact-“

“I know all the same things you do. If Ruby says it’s a witch, it’s a witch.”

Sam frowned, Her arm brushed against Dean’s again, and the taut thing was now frayed.

Dean didn’t know what was happening.

“Okay.” Sam broke their odd stand-off first, letting out a slow exhale. “I just wanted to-“

“Be sure.” She muttered. “Yeah, I know.”

There was a long pause—Dean forcing himself to focus on the low sound of the radio rather than how close She was, how her breathing was heavy and measured, how he wanted to follow the pattern with his heartbeat until he was moving with Her all the time—and when She leaned back, Dean couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Her small frown in the rearview mirror.

“What did Ruby say this was for?”

Sam shrugged, turning in his seat as he spoke. “She told me it could help kill anything inhuman or unholy. Stuff that even her knife and the Colt can’t gank.”

“The nasty sons of bitches,” Dean muttered. “Worst of the worst.”

There was another pause, and when She spoke again her voice was small. “I- anything?”

“Powerful things,” Sam explained. “Ruby said it was designed for things outside of nature. Like Lilith.”

“Like Lilith.” She repeated, and She sounded strange. Nervous.

Dean glanced back in the mirror to see Her curled into the backseat, turning the arrowhead between Her fingers with a tight frown, Her body braced in the way it always was when She started to freak out, her free hand gripping slightly at Her throat, that little wrinkle in Her brow obvious and prominent-

He couldn’t reach back and run his thumb over, no matter how much he itched to. She probably wouldn’t even let him.

But God, the sight of Her like this made him feel sick. He hadn’t seen any real, full episodes since Her return, but he’d seen the bags under Her eyes, the raised marks on Her skin, the dried blood around Her nails.

It wasn’t his place to say anything anymore.

But it still torn him to pieces. Still made him feel like he was doing something wrong, still made Dean feel wrong. If he was good, he’d never allow something as amazing as She was to be in pain. He’d stop being selfish and set Her free of his burden, because even his proximity stole and hoarded Her light.

But he needed Her here. Even if She couldn’t be his.

And he needed Her to stop clawing at Her throat.

So he did the only thing he could think of, and coughed for Her attention.

Her eyes flicked to his in the rearview mirror, and they set off fireworks over his ribs. Colorful and hot and bright and Her-

“Nice work.” He muttered. “With the case. You were-“ Dean choked on the word right. Of course She was right. She was the only right thing in the universe. “You did good.”

He wouldn’t apologize. Dad said to never apologize for making the smart, right call, even if it was the tough one. Especially if it was the tough one, because that meant he was being strong, and it wasn’t his responsibility to make sure people understood that.

And what he’d said seemed to be enough. She sat a little taller, Her chin tilting a little higher, and when She spoke again Her voice was back to its usual tone. Smooth and clear and designed to haunt Dean in his sleep.

“Of course I did good.” She snapped. “I know what I’m doing, Winchester. I always do.”

Something in Her suddenly seemed to be glowing, leaking out through Her eyes on Dean’s in the mirror.

It made Dean glow. Like he was being called further down into Her. He didn’t know how the hell She always did that to him. He’d likely never get a chance to find out.

So all Dean did was roll his eyes and look back to road, because now he had a new lie to drill into his brain.

The lie that—if that hadn’t succeeded in returning Her to the proud, sharp, blinding woman She usually was—Dean would’ve said sorry.

That if She ever did lash at him with words that left bigger and more purposeful scars than the ones he already carried—the ones that seemed to line his every thought and breath, where he was haunted by Her when she was gone and consumed by her when she was there, and he was almost certain She didn’t even know how deep she was branding him—Dean would fall to his knees and fucking grovel for Her to heal him. For that shifting, easy light to cast over him and Her warmth to fuse him back together, better than he’d been before. For Her.

Dean would do most anything for Her.

And that meant—even if Bobby and Sam disagreed—lying to Her about the deal.

“Dean,” Sam was shifting through his backpack as they pulled into a gas station, his attention mostly focused on trying to find a credit card that hadn’t gotten frozen. “If they don’t have pie-“

“We’re in Carolina, they’re gonna have freakin’ pie-“

Sam sighed. “Yeah, but if they don’t-“

“They will.” Dean snapped. The world was already fucking tormenting him. They didn’t need to take away his pie as well. “Pie, Sammy. Nothing else.”

“Dean-“

“Pie-“

“We’ll find you pie, you giant baby.” She rolled Her eyes from the backseat, stretching as she scooted to the door. Dean could see a little bit of bare skin from the movement.

His pants got a little tight.

He was fucking pathetic.

Sam said Her name carefully, shooting Dean a weary look from the corner of his eyes. “We can’t control what the gas station has-“

“We’ll figure it out.” She shrugged. “C’mon, buddy. Let Deano brood in peace.”

Dean scowled, half because of Her drawling, bored use of Deano that still made him bend a little much for her, and half because he wasn’t brooding. And if he was, he should be allowed to. He was dying-

She didn’t know that. She was going to find him pie anyway.

And he hated this.

It was the good moments that were the worst. Moments when they glanced at each other when Sam said something dramatic, and he wanted to whisper a joke, but he wasn’t allowed to anymore. Moments where they brushed past each other and didn’t flinch, where Dean would see Her early in the morning and She’d look downright adorable with that small, pouting frown.

Moments like this one. Where She got back before Sam, passed Dean his pie without a word, and sprawled out in the backseat. And Dean could glance at Her as he filled up Baby’s tank, and She fit so naturally that he wasn’t sure how his very foundation hadn’t crumbled to nothing while She was gone.

She looked beautiful. She was wearing the jacket he’d left Her, and Dean could see the poke of the blade he’d given Her, and she was frowning at the broken nail she’d mentioned earlier, and it would be so easy to reach out and run his thumb down Her nose until she let out a soft, easy breath and everything was okay again.

“Have you met Ruby?”

Dean blinked at Her. “Yeah.”

She hummed, not looking away from Her nails. “What’s she like?”

“She’s a demonic bitch.” Dean muttered, glaring at the gas pump, and She snorted.

“Eloquent, De.”

He felt like he was falling from a million feet. She’d really called him De again. Out of fucking nowhere, like nothing had happened, She was smiling at him and calling him De and there was something in Her that was guarded and Dean wanted to shred it down and crash right into Her-

“Why are you working with her?” She asked, tilting Her head at him. “Is it because of Sam?”

“He trusts Ruby.” Dean’s words were pushed through his teeth. “And I trust him.”

“Should I trust her?”

Dean let out a dry chuckle. “Gonna matter what my answer is?”

“Yeah.” She said the word like it was nothing, and Dean’s lungs stuttered and caved for a brief second, as if he’d just been shot. “I didn’t ask for shits and giggles, Winchester-“

“Then don’t.” He grunted. “Don’t trust Ruby.”

“Alright.” She shrugged. “I won’t.”

There was a pause, and Dean didn’t know why She wasn’t trying to fight with him. He didn��t understand Her, how she could be acting like nothing was wrong when it so clearly freakin’ was, when they hadn’t even dared to speak about how She’d left him and lied and obviously didn’t want anything real to do with Dean-

“Did you see Sam trying to flirt with that waitress-“

“I have to shit.” Dean blurted, refusing to meet Her eyes as he returned the gas pump to its station, because She might look sad or surprised or hurt, and he wouldn’t know how to deal with that in a way he could permit. “Watch the car.”

He walked away before She could say anything, and Jesus, he was an asshole.

She’s been trying to be nice to him. Dean didn’t know why, but She seemed to be determined to try and patch at least something between them, and it made everything so much goddamn worse. She’d sneer at him one second—when the air around them was heated and weighted in Dean’s lungs, when Dean was biting at Her and she didn’t resist his silent plea for Her to bite back—and then do something like that the next, and Dean couldn’t live with it.

He couldn’t live with himself. It might be a good thing he was damned, because otherwise he’d have no justification for how he’d just walked away, how Her trying to reach out to him just made him recoil, because nothing had ever been as good as Her, and no one had ever been less deserving of Her than Dean.

And that was why he hated the good moments the most. They reminded him that She really was better, and Dean wasn’t worthy of Her infinite… everything. They forced him to build his walls higher, to line them with further barbed wire, because if he didn’t, She’d slip through a crack without effort.

Dean couldn’t afford to let Her back in. She needed to hate him. This whole thing would be so much easier if She would just hate him.

Maybe one day he’d walk away like that again and not glance over to check that She was still there. He had to drive Her away, but he still made sure She was still there.

And She was. She always was. Every day for the past few weeks, Dean had looked for Her and she’d been there. Legs folded in a chair as She chewed on a pencil, lying flat on Her back and humming to herself in a way that made Dean’s head a little fuzzy, standing tall as She scanned over a room and rubbed Her thumb over that scar on Her palm.

She was doing that now. Leaning over the front seats and rubbing Her palm, head slightly bowed so Her hair blocked a full view of Her face, occasionally reaching down to touch something that was on the bench. Probably Sammy’s book.

She was so pretty.

She could never be Dean’s.

Sam didn’t say anything when Dean shuffled to his side in the station, just raising his brows, glancing out the window, and letting out an unnecessarily long breath with a shake of his head.

“Wanted some coffee.” Dean muttered, grabbing a paper cup and ignoring Sam’s flat expression of disbelief. “Long drive ahead.”

“Sure, dude.” Sam was still looking out the window, an odd expression on his face. “Huh.”

“What-“

“See the Cadillac? The silver one?”

Dean followed Sam’s gaze to the parking lot. “Yeah, what about it-“

“It was behind us, on the highway. For a while.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, shooting Dean a tight look. “Did you seriously not notice?”

“Course I noticed.” Dean muttered, and he very much had not fucking noticed. He’d been distracted. She’d been right there whenever he used the mirror, and there had still been a little bit of lipstick stained on her mouth from the case, and he’d wanted to wipe the smudge on Her cheek off with his thumb, just to test if She’d gape at him or look at him like he mattered. Like he could matter to Her, if that was allowed. “Lotta cars in the world, Sammy, some of them are bound to be going from Carolina to Virginia-“

Dean cut himself off as the Cadillac stopped in the middle of the lot, its door opened, three large men climbed out.

They were walking towards the Impala.

He could see the sun catch light off of something in the largest one’s hand, and it was glinting and long and-

Dean was roaring Her name before he could think better of it. There was red lining his vision and a blaring, alarm-like sound in his ear, and She was in danger-

Sam was right on his tail as he burst out of the lot, sprinting back to the car—back to Her—as the men started crowding the windows, but She was faster. Right before Fuckhead Number One could bash Baby’s windows in, She pushed the door open into his gut, vaulting forward with Her knife in hand as the man let out a guttural noise of pain.

Dean slammed his body right into Fuckhead Number Two—the big, ugly one who’s knife he’d seen—right as Sam caught up to him, grabbing Fuckhead Number Three and pushing him down onto the concrete with a grunt.

They all had the same knives. Somewhere in the whirlwind of the fight—fists flying, Dean trying to reach for his gun but always fumbling as he had to dodge another punch, Sammy scrambling with Fuckhead Three on the ground as She danced around Fuckhead One—Dean realized that it wasn’t just the asshole he was fighting who had a that knife.

It was the same one that had stabbed Her in Colorado. Same curved, sharp blade he’d seen a few times on Bobby’s desk, that had damn near killed Her-

They’d gotten separated. Somehow Sam had ended up wresting with Fuckhead Three in the grass, She and Fuckhead One were the middle of the lot with Her knife in hand, and Fuckhead Two had backed Dean up to the stations walls.

“If it ain’t the Winchesters.” Fuckhead sneered, and Dean barely managed to duck the blow aimed at his jaw. “Didn’t expect to see you here-“

“Shut up.” Dean snapped. “Unless you’re gonna say why you’re trailing us, I don’t wanna here a word out of your ugly mouth-“

Dean side-stepped another punch, and Fuckhead gave him a crude smile.

“Not trailing you.” He sneered. “Trailing what you’ve got.”

“If it’s Sammy, you can have him,” Dean slammed his knee into Fuckhead Two’s side, sending him stumbling back with a grunt. “But I’ll warn you, he snores like a bitch-“

“We have no interest in Azazel’s little experiment.” Fuckhead let out a dry chuckle, not balking as Dean finally grabbed his gun, aiming the barrel at his temple. “Our kind deal in far… bigger, older affairs.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “This the part where I’m supposed to ask you what your kind are instead of just shooting you-“

Fuckhead smirked. “I’d imagine you’d like to know, Dean. Not like you can kill me anyway.”

“You wanna bet on that-“

“I’m not the betting type. To risky. And we- Well, we aren’t the kind to take risks.”

Dean was about to scoff and pull the trigger, but Fuckhead held his gaze, and his eyes shifted.

Eclipsed with a venomous, neon green for a long second, the grin on his face widening until he was laughing.

“You have no idea what you’ve begun to meddle with, Mr. Winchester-“

Dean shot Fuckhead’s foot. He didn’t need a villain rant right now, worst that would result in was a limp for the vessel, and goddamnit why couldn’t anything ever be easy-

“Sammy!” He roared across the lot. “Demons!”

Sam nodded, locking his arms around Fuckhead Three’s neck and started to chant the exorcism, and Dean sprinted forward to where She was still fighting Fuckhead One with a shout of Her name-

She was faster. She was always faster.

Dean watched as She brought Her knife right up to Fuckhead One’s throat, hissed something in his ear, and seconds later bright green smoke erupted out of his mouth.

The same happened with Fuckhead Two and Three, and Dean frowned. He’d never seen Sam do the exorcism that fast.

He muttered Her name, fisting his hands at his side to stop himself reaching for Her. “Are you-“

“I’m fine.” She snapped. “Let’s go before someone calls the cops.”

She didn’t look okay. Sam rejoined them at the car—dusting the grass and dirt off his pants and looking between them with a frown—and Dean had to restrain himself with brutal reminders that She didn’t need him, because She looked the furthest thing from okay and it was eating at his gut.

She wasn’t speaking. For the rest of the drive She was lying on her back, eyes squeezed shut, body half curled into itself and arms wrapped around Her stomach. For the first time since She’d returned, she really did look sick. Colorless and pallid, lips drawn in a thin line as if she was in pain, breathing loud enough for Dean to hear over the music. Sammy kept asking damn questions about the demons, about what Fuckhead Two had said to Dean and what green eyes could possibly mean, but Dean couldn’t really hear him.

His tongue was caught in his throat to stop him from spitting out that they needed to stop, because he was worried about Her. His chest felt like it was contracting and aching and ripping, and his heart was loud in his ears, and why was this so goddamn horrible, why couldn’t he just not care that She was in pain-

“Dean.” Sam muttered, long after the sun had set, a little while after She’d fallen asleep. “We need to tell her. About the deal.”

Dean scowled, his gaze flicking back to Her in the mirror. She seemed to be really, truly asleep.

Dean wouldn’t bet on it.

“Not now, Sam-“

“Bobby was right, she’d going to work it out eventually-“

“No, she won’t. She’ll leave first.”

Sam gave him an odd look, glancing back to Her with a shake of his head. “Why are you so fucking convinced she’s going to leave-“

“She always leaves.“ Dean snapped. “She left at the hospital-“

“Because she was sick-“

“Does she look sick to you-“

“Yeah, she does.” Sam seemed to suddenly, somehow, be taller. “And I know she does to you too, Dean. I mean, just look at her-“

“I did.” Dean muttered, glowering at the passing white lines on the highway. “And it’s not my business. I’m not talking about this, Sammy. So fucking drop it.”

Sam sighed. “You know can convince her you don’t care about her, shit, you can even convince yourself, but you can’t convince me. If it were anyone else, you’d have shot them in Utah, and we both know it.”

“Shut up-“

“I am. Just-“ Sam said Her name, and Dean felt like he was going to vomit. “You’re not good at being right about her. You get blinded, Dean, and I think she needs us just as much as-“

“She doesn’t need us.” Dean couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Her in the backseat.

Hauntingly beautiful in the night, the shadows and moving lights of the road making Her look even more like something that had fallen from the sky, like a piece of a star or comet that had started to breathe and walk the earth. The breeze breaking through the cracked windows blowing through Her hair and giving her cheeks a slightly flush.

Her knife was gripped tight in Her hands, and she was folded around it like it was gravity.

Dean wanted Her to fold around him like that. He wanted to be the thing that grounded Her.

But he wasn’t.

“She doesn’t need anyone, Sam.” He muttered, ripping his gaze back onto the road. “We’ll be there in an hour.”

And when Sam dropped it with a sigh, Dean made himself focus on the music. Normally, he’d turn it up to drown out his own thoughts, louder than even Sam’s chastising voice.

Tonight he kept it low, because louder meant there would be a possibility of disturbing Her. And Dean was already pretty sure She didn’t get as much sleep as she needed.

So he’d give Her this last hour of the drive—going a little slower to extended the time—and he’d let himself look at Her a little more when she couldn’t see.

Then he’d park the car in the motel lot, mutter to Sam that he needed to work out how to get Her up without getting himself stabbed, and steel himself as he exited the car.

He couldn’t care. It would be unfair to Her for Dean to care, when he’d be gone in five months.

Maybe, if he repeated it enough in his head, it would feel true.

Dean stopped in front of the room from Ruby’s message to Sam, and he’d barely had a chance to raise his fist to knock before the door swung open, and Ruby was glaring at him from the other side.

“Where’s Sam.”

“Hi, Dean.” He muttered, shoving past Ruby with an eye roll. “Thanks for taking time to get the thing for me, I’m going to try and not be a fucking bitch for five seconds to show my gratitude-“

“I’m not going to be grateful when you probably didn’t to shit.” Ruby crossed her arms, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Where’s Sam.”

“I’m here,” Sam’s head poked around the door frame, a tense frown on his face. “Dean, she’s not moving-“

Dean froze at the foot of the bed. “What do you mean, she’s not moving-“

“She woke up, but she said she just wants to stay in the car-“

“She can’t stay in the car, Sammy, she has the arrowhead and we- shit, we just got jumped by demons-“

Ruby stared between them, her eyes wide. “You just got- who the hell are you talking about-“

“Oh, yeah, you guys haven’t met yet.” Sam swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I- uh- You remember how I mentioned that girl Dean used to hunt with-“

“You told Ruby about her?!” Dean hissed, and Sam shot him an apologetic look.

“Just like, once-“

“Wait,” Ruby looked between them, said Her name, and Dean was going to rip out Her tongue. The bitch shouldn’t be allowed to say Her name. Nothing evil should even be allowed to know about Her. “She’s here?”

“Yeah,” Dean narrowed his eyes. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course I do, you two idiots weren’t supposed to tell anyone what you were doing-“

“You don’t get to tell us what we do and don’t do,” Dean hissed, his glare turning to a very worried looking Sam. “She’s not coming out of the car?”

Sam shook his head. “No, uh-“

“I’ll take care of it.” He grunted, not looking at Ruby as he moved back to the door, clapping Sam on the shoulder with short words. “You kids keep it in your pants while I get her majesty inside.”

Dean didn’t bother to wait for Ruby to make a snide remark, just marching to the Impala and opening the back door, glaring down and where She still lay.

“C’mon, Princess, we’ve landed-“

“Don’t care.” She mumbled, twisting onto Her side and burying Her face in the seat. “I’m fine here, Dean.”

Dean jaw clenched. “Fine, just- give me the arrowhead thingy-“

“No.”

Dean grunted Her name. “You can wallow in the car all you freakin’ want, but we need that arrowhead-“

“Why.”

“The hell do you mean why, the whole point of that whole damn thing-“

“Why was it the point?” She rolled onto Her back, meeting Dean’s eyes with raised brows. “Who would want this thing?”

“Ruby wants it, and she’s going to be a real bitch if we don’t give it to her-“

“Should I give it to Her?”

Dean stared at Her, saying her name slowly. “What the hell are you talking about.”

“You told me not to trust her, Dean.” She held his gaze, and Dean felt like She looking right down into the pit. Daring him to admit something he didn’t understand. “Why should I give her the arrowhead if I shouldn’t trust her.”

It took a second for Her words to sink in. She was just watching him, a challenging expression on Her pretty face, and when it clicked, Dean had to go rigid and still to stop himself from crashing down into Her pouting, drawn lips.

She was taking him seriously. She was taking Dean—Dean, of all damn people—and his opinion and trust of Ruby, seriously. She wasn’t trusting Ruby because he told Her not to, and there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in Her voice. It had been flat, pointed, filled with that same dry tone She’d used when she’d asked Dean a rhetorical question about a hunt or a monster She’d already known everything about. The voice She used when she was half quizzing him, but She’d also been in charge of designing all the answers.

He couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t sit in how it made him stand a little taller, how Her gaze on his was almost certainly looking all the way into him, how She was seeing into every piece and sunken hollow in Dean’s body and not moving away.

Why the hell couldn’t She just move away.

He couldn’t have this. He couldn’t have Her. Dean needed to keep moving, and Her looking at him like that—like She could see him, like he was real, like She wanted to fall up into him just as bad as he wanted to tumble down to Her—made him want to stay in this parking lot for the entirety of his remaining months.

“We still gotta work with the bitch,” Dean said Her name, forcing his gaze to remain on Her’s, all while trying to remember how he’d ever managed to convince Her to do anything. “She’s our best line to Lilith-“

“That can’t be true.”

Dean blinked at Her. “You got a better idea?”

“No. But I could find one.”

“You planning to find it in the car?”

She scowled. “Shut up-“

“Look, you-“ Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “You don’t need to give it to Ruby. But you need to come inside.”

Her eyes narrowed, Her mouth opening to probably say something harsh and firm along the lines of shove it up your ass, Winchester, you don’t tell me what to do, but Dean pushed on before She could.

“Please?” He watched Her carefully, trying not to get lost in how She was blinking at him, how he could move just a few inches and brush the hair off Her face, trace his fingers over her parted lips. “Can’t just leave you alone in the car at 3am. You never know when more demons might jump out of the bushes, sweetheart.”

“It’s three in the-“ She cut Herself off with a yawn, and God, she could be real damn cute when She wasn’t glaring at him.

“C’mon, Princess.” Dean nodded to the motel room, hoping She was too tired to hear the affection in his voice. “Let’s go.”

When She pushed herself to her feet, Dean’s hand almost shot out to rest on Her lower back and guide her inside.

He regained control of his body at the last second, and flinched back. He was falling again. Further and further every time, because he always thought he’d reached the deepest part of this strange pull to Her, and he was always wrong.

She didn’t see it. Didn’t see how he recoiled from Her body. Shit, Dean hoped She hadn’t seen it. That might be the line crossed—might be something She took as Dean hating her, when he couldn’t, he didn’t know how—and Dean didn’t want to lose Her. He would. He’d have to.

But not now.

Not when She was listening to him. Not when he could feel something start to bloom to the right of his heart, because She was trusting him. Against all odds and logic and reason, She was trusting Dean. He didn’t understand it. He never did. But this was good, and it would all be gone soon regardless, and Dean can’t be allowed to have something so good just to break it, but he also couldn’t live with himself if he shattered Her without having her at all.

His head was spinning around that idea. How could She still trust Dean, he was Dean, he was damned and selfish and mean to Her, but she still trusted him-

He almost missed the chorus of shouts that broke through the motel room.

She flying at Ruby, knife in hand and eyes slightly crazed, blocked only by Sam jumping in Her path and holding Her back as Ruby scrambled away.

“What the fuck-“

“Let go of me!” She was screaming, thrashing in Sam’s hold and watching Ruby with a slightly crazed expression. “Sam- Fucking let go- I- I can’t-“

Sam said Her name, his voice in the calming tone he used on the vics. “That’s just Ruby, she’s an ally-“

“Just an ally?” Ruby shot him a glare. “Ouch, Sammy, I thought we were friends-“

“I- Maybe wait until after I calm her down to start yelling at me-“ Sam cut himself off with a groan as She elbowed him in the gut, but didn’t waver his hold. “Fuck-“

“Let- Sam, let me go- I need to- fuck- Dean!” She screamed for him, and whatever daze Dean had been shocked into was destroyed by the sound of it. “Dean, it’s a- Dean-“

“Fucking hell,” Ruby shook her head slightly, her back still pressed to the wall, her body a little more rigid than Dean had seen it before. “She’s a dramatic one, isn’t she-“

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dean snapped, giving Ruby a firm, harsh, don’t fucking test me, bitch, glower before taking Her face between his hands, lowering his voice until only She could really hear it. “You need to calm down, Princess-“

She shook Her head, hair sliding over Her brow, and Dean had a striking realization that this was the closest he’d been to Her in over two years.

“Dean, she’s- If- It’s wrong- Something’s wrong-“

“Ruby’s a demon,” he said Her name carefully, scanning over Her open features. “You knew that-“

“I- I’m not-“ She shook Her head, Her voice more panicked by the second. “It’s wrong, Dean, something’s wrong-“

“I know. Just, son of a bitch-“

He gave in. Dean let his control slip just a little, gave into his every deeply rooted and natural instinct, and ran his thumb down Her nose.

The effect was almost immediate. Her eyes closed slowly, the tension leaving Her expression and body as she half-slumped into him, and this was everything Dean had been trying to avoid, but he also couldn’t ignore how his own bones felt lighter in his body, how the world felt bigger—in a relieving, colorful and bright way that made Dean’s head not feel like a weight on his neck—because She wasn’t freaking out.

He moved Her to the bed without a word, letting Her lie flat on her back and curling his fingers to stop himself from falling further—from tracing Her cheekbones and tucking Her hair behind her ears—and only managed to remember they weren’t alone in the whole universe because Ruby coughed behind him.

“What the hell was that-“

“She must have, uh-“ Sam swallowed, glancing to Her on the bed as he said Her name. “Are you-“

“I’m fine.” She muttered, eyes still closed as She twisted a ring on her finger. “Forgot she was a demon. Sorry.”

Lie.

That was a lie.

Dean frowned at Her, keeping his voice level and casual. “How’d you manage to remember-“

“I must have flashed my eyes.” Ruby jumped in, and she hadn’t moved from her spot on the wall. “Happens sometimes.”

Sam shot Dean a confused, slightly questions look, and Dean gave a small shake of his head.

“I’ve never seen you do that shit by accident, Ruby-“

“Well you don’t look at me, Dean, so kindly stop being an ass and have your girlfriend hand over the arrowhead.”

Dean scowled, but couldn’t bring himself to properly protest the girlfriend thing. Not when his brain was still in a scratching loop of Her face so close, Her warm cheeks under his hands, the intoxicating smell of that goddamn fruit dragging him higher and higher-

“No.” She muttered from the bed, and when Her eyes opened they found Dean’s so fast he’d have thought he was a magnet. “It’s staying with me.”

Ruby’s eyes narrowed as she pushed off the wall, Dean body moved a slight inch to the side—just enough to stop Ruby if she tried something on his- his whatever She was—and Sam sighed.

“Oh, shit.”

“What do you mean, no?” Ruby sneered, taking a slow step forward. “I sent you to get it for me, you can’t just keep it-“

“You ever heard of finders keepers?” Her voice was bored, and whatever panic Ruby’s black eyes had sparked in Her seemed to have vanished entirely. “This is that.”

Ruby scoffed. “That doesn’t work here, you spoiled brat-“

Something hot filled Her eyes, and Dean felt like something was rotting in his chest.

“That’s rude.” She cut Ruby off with a shrug, nothing in Her tone shifting, but Her eyes remained different. Dean wasn’t sure anyone else had noticed. “And I’m sorry, but I’ve never been good at being peer pressured. Try again later.”

“Later? Are you-“ Ruby whipped around to snap at Sammy. “Make her give me my arrowhead.”

“I- uh-“ Sam glanced to Dean, his face filled with worry. “I’m not-“

“Shut it, Ruby.” Dean grunted, and Sam’s whole body seemed to slump with relief. “If her majesty says no arrowhead, you don’t get an arrowhead.”

Ruby glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me-“

“I dunno,” Dean looked to Her with raised brows, and he could’ve sworn he saw Her mouth tug slightly upwards. “You kidding, sweetheart?”

“Not really, no.”

“Alright.” He shrugged, turning back to Ruby with a shrug. “You heard the lady. No arrowhead.”

Ruby’s jaw twitched. “This is stupid, I mean, even for you, Dean-“

“It’s not stupid.” She snapped from the bed, and Dean glanced over to find Ruby on the end of one of Her coldest, most threatening glares. “I’m holding onto it. No one else.”

“You could try and take it from her,” Dean suggested, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll warn you, she plays it real fast and loose with that knife.”

There was a long, silent stand-off—Sammy shifting on his feet in the background, looking around the group like he was trying to work out which bomb in a pile would go off first—and Ruby caved first.

“Fine.” Ruby sighed, shooting Her a glare. “Be a fucking child. In the meantime, we need to go back to how Sam said you three got jumped by demons.”

“Jumped is a strong word,” She muttered, arms wrapping around Her stomach. “More like snuck up on-“

“This isn’t a joke.” Ruby snapped. “If demons are following you, it’s because of the arrowhead, which means more will be coming if we don’t do something about it.”

She sat up on the bed, an odd and unreadable expression on Her face, but before Dean could ask what the hell it was for, Sam was talking.

“They were- uh-“ He looked to Dean and Her, his voice filled with slight nerves. “They were green? The demons-“

“Green?” Ruby stared at Sam, the almost frightened look returning to her face. “Sam, what the hell do you mean they were green-“

“He means they were green, genius.” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. “Green smoke, green eyes. Green-“

“Demons.” Ruby was shaking her head, the movement almost frantic. “For- God, for fuck’s sake, can you two not making anything easy-“

“Do you know what they are?” She was fully sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Her palm with a thumb as Her attention fixed on Ruby. “The green demons, have you heard of them-“

Ruby let out a dry laugh. “Of course I’ve heard of them. They, shit, they’re like nightmares. In hell we use them to scare little baby demons into brushing their fucking teeth-“

Dean frowned. “Hold up, you’ve got baby demons-“

“Obviously not, dumbass, I’m just trying to drive home how fucked we are-“

She took a long breath, pushed off the bed, and Dean was worried he was going insane. He thought he saw Ruby fucking flinch at Her movement.

“Ruby.” She said, and that was the tone She used on a hunt. When She wasn’t looking for anyone to argue with Her, and wasn’t going to give way for the opportunity. “What are the green demons.”

“Hell’s Assassins.” Ruby said, her words pushed through teeth. “They do things that are above every other demon’s pay grade, usually staying in the shadows and only showing themselves when there’s no other option. If they’re out now, that means, shit-“

“We’re screwed.” Sammy muttered, and Ruby nodded.

“Royally fucked. Our best bet is throwing them off the trail.” Ruby sighed, started to ramble about how if they could convince the green-eyed douchebags that they’d taken the arrowhead somewhere else and dropped it, maybe they could buy enough time to figure out how to avoid them once they worked out it had been a trick, but Dean wasn’t listening.

He was looking at Her.

And She looked horrible.

Drop dead gorgeous—just as She always was—but horrible. Sick. She looked truly, awfully, deeply sick again. Sunken and afraid and small, curled into Herself and eye screwed tight, and this was worse than any of the fear because Dean felt like he needed to do something, but he wasn’t a healer, he’d break Her further and She’d leave for good once more, and it would kill him. He was an asshole, and if She walked away now—right as he was starting to see parts of him that had been hollow and cracked fuse back together, brighter and stronger than before—it would kill Dean before the contract even got the chance to catch up with him.

But Her obvious pain was clawing at Dean’s throat and burning over his skin, he needed to fix it, needed to make things better for Her, everything had to be better for Her-

“I’ll take Sam, then.” Ruby’s words cut through his thoughts, and Dean turned with a scowl.

“Take Sam where-“

“To drive off the demons, you meat-headed idiot-“

“Shut up.” She snapped from the bed, and Dean wasn’t imagining it. Ruby flinched. The bitch was actually fucking afraid of Her.

Which was understandable.

She could be scary.

And right now, with Her furiously beautiful features and firm glare, She was downright terrifying.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” She muttered. “And you’re not just taking Sam-“

“I’m- I think it’s a good plan.” Sam scratched his neck, shooting Her an apologetic look. “I mean, she’s right, Ruby. Talk to Dean like that again and I won’t hold her back when she tries to carve your eyes out, but I’ll go with you. For the team.”

The team. They were a team. And She and Sam were standing up for him, and cared about him enough to maul Ruby or put up with her for an extended amount of time, and this exactly what Dean was afraid of-

“You two will have to go on lockdown,” Ruby snapped, and Dean didn’t miss how she was standing a little too tall. Too guarded. “Buddy system to get food, doors shut day and night, no one in or out that’s not me or Sammy-“

Sam frowned. “Don’t call me that. Or I’m not driving these demons off with you.”

“Well, Sammy, you don’t really have a choice. Just like Elizabeth and Darcy,” Ruby turned her smirk of Her and Dean. “Are going to have to hole up here. Together. Just them, all week.”

“All-“ She swallowed, and something stung at Dean’s heart at the expression on Her face. “Can’t we just go to Bobby’s-“

“In Dakota?” Ruby laughed. “We don’t have time for that. Besides, we’re taking the car-“

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell you’re taking my car-““Don’t worry, Sammy will drive. Ready?”

Sam blinked. “I- are we leaving now-“

“Like I said, we don’t have time. Those things- They’re a bigger threat than Lilith. So unless you’re going to hand over the arrowhead-“

“Not a chance.” Her chin raised slightly, and Dean couldn’t stop a smirk at the sour expression on Ruby’s face.

“Fine. Have fun on lockdown.”

Everything moved in a flash. Ruby and Sam got stopped at the door as She moved in front of it—Dean didn’t know how She was suddenly back to her usual, sharp and quick self, but he did know that Ruby froze at the sight of Her in their path—and She demanded the full, detailed plan. Ruby and Sam were going to draw the green-eyed demons away by fucking off to Oklahoma, She and Dean were going to stay here and keep the arrowhead safe, and once they were in the clear Sam and Ruby would come back.

And before Dean could find the proper words to express how he was so fatally close to completely giving back into Her, to moving fully back into Her orbit and doing everything he’d sworn he wouldn’t—forgiving Her again, being whatever She needed him to be, trying to hold Her when he’d really be nothing more than literal dirt and blood by the end of the year—Sam and Ruby were gone.

Dean was alone again.

But this was worse.

Because he was alone with Her.

And it didn’t matter what Ruby claimed.

That was a bigger threat than Lilith.

————

This is going to kill you.

You should’ve protested more. Insisted that you and Dean didn’t need to go on lockdown together, that there had to be other options.

You couldn’t think of other options, but there had to be some.

Dean wouldn’t have let you stay alone. You had to stay with the arrowhead. There was no world where you’d let Dean go off with Ruby. You didn’t even love Sam going off with Ruby, and she’d only been insulting him while casting a broader net for Dean.

Nobody should go with Ruby. But you had a feeling she wouldn’t have allowed that, just as you wouldn’t have allowed her to take Dean.

And you’re certain she’s not your biggest fan either, given how she flinched at the sight of you, even before you tried to kill her.

You’d almost let the Darkness slip there. If Sam hadn’t held you back, you would’ve let it rush out and stomp Ruby down to nothing, because you’d never seen a demon that hideous. They all had horrid, twisted and marred faces, shifting and moving in the smoke, but Ruby had been awful. Glinting and rolling and stained along her vessel like a disease.

And maybe she was just an ugly bitch.

But maybe you’d have to keep an eye on her. She’d wormed her way into Sam and Dean’s life like a parasite, and you now had to ensure they came out the other side with all their organs intact.

And that’s not your job. Not your place.

But you’re going to do it anyway.

You have to repay them somehow. For putting up with this. For putting up with you, and the danger you brought just by daring to try and breathe in their proximity.

In Dean’s proximity.

You can’t stop drawing closer and closer to Dean.

And you know he hates you. He has every right to, even if you don’t know why. You have a theory it starts and ends with John, and how you never said goodbye, but it doesn’t matter.

You’ll spend your time with him trying to keep yourself on a leash, and pretending you’re not already addicted to his voice and smell and face once more.

You’d never truly been clean of him. You’d never stopped dreaming of him, never stopped wanting him, and the White had never hesitated to whine and buck and scream for you to turn around and return to where you should be.

Wherever Dean was.

But one month back, he hates you, and you’ve never needed him more. Because he makes it easier. The pain is harsher and sharper when it comes—on worse cases and when you don’t sleep for long nights that never seem to end, until color breaks the horizon and Dean is at your side once more—but every waking moment doesn’t feel vile. Sometimes you breathe and it’s not poison in your lungs. Your heart beats and it’s a steady time that isn’t shredding itself apart. Dean brushes past you in the hall, or meets your eyes in the Impala’s mirror, and snaps your name like he cares about, and everything turns silver.

So you can’t stop trying to fix it. Dean so plainly loathes you, but then he’ll smirk at you, or laugh at a joke, or pull you away from danger, and you’ll fall further into himo. It fuels you. To patch this vast crack between you with whatever you can find, scavenging for thread that isn’t frayed in heated moments—when he cares, or when he’s furious—that fuse this back together a little more.

And God, it’s so unhealthy. How you’re scrambling to fix something you’d never had a right to break in the first place, especially when Dean doesn’t even care to see it fixed himself. When, even if you manage to salvage this, it will crumble once more when the Darkness gets a full hold of you, and everything crashes down.

But knowing that had never stopped you.

And it’s Dean. And he’s magnetic and strong and still somehow the only certain thing in the universe. You’re drowning in him every second, and the whole world has become sharp and stained in gold because he’s right there and you could touch him if you tried, so you can’t just give up. He’ll snap and you’ll snap back, but you won’t leave.

You can’t leave.

When Dean’s finally here, you don’t think you could pull fully away if you tried.

Now would be the time to learn. When you know that the demons hunting you are Hell’s fucking assassins, and they’re here for you. You’ll let Sam and Dean believe it’s the arrowhead—and you have a sense that Ruby is already aware it’s not—but it’s you. They’d been there for you, and the Darkness had started to seep out no matter how you chewed your tongue red or dug your nails to your skin, and nobody was safe with you but you still couldn’t leave.

Not when you’re locked down.

With Dean.

You won’t let him touch the arrowhead. You’d caught him, the first day, trying to shift through your jacket and pull it out while you’d been taking a shower. You’d cleared your throat, your arms crossed over your chest, and he’d turned with a wide-eyed, guilty expression.

“I- uh-“

“It’s not nice to snoop, Winchester.” You’d said, giving him a pointed look. “And it’s not there anyway.”

He’d blinked at you, but recovered quickly. Charming, boy-ish grin returning, expression a picture of mock innocence, so painfully unaware of how the White in your chest was begging you to close the space and just hold him-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart, I was just looking for something. Is a guy not allowed to look for things anymore?”

You’d raised your brows at him. “What were you looking for?”

“Gun.”

“In my jacket?”

He’d paused at that. “Thought it was my jacket.”

“I didn’t know you wore women’s jackets, Deano.” You’d taken at step back into the bathroom, reaching for your spare towel as you continued. “You are not a good liar.”

He’d scowled. “I’m a freakin’ fantastic liar-“

You’d hummed, shooting him a look of amusement. “Sure.”

“I’m better than you are.” He’d snapped. “I always have you figured out, Princess. And I’m lying right fucking now.”

It had been hard not to wince at that one. Dean was better than you were. Everyone was.

And he could be lying, and you don’t even know about what, but he could be. And you’d deserve it. Whether it’s a punishment or just another way for Dean to hate you, you’d deserve it for making everything so much worse.

So you’d sighed, grabbed the arrowhead from folded towel, and held it up for him to see.

“Just- don’t try and take this. Don’t touch it.” You held Dean’s gaze, and there had been something hot inside of it. Something that seemed more turned on him than aimed at you.

It still hurt.

“Please.” You’d added, just because he really couldn’t touch it. “Dean, I need you to say-“

“I won’t touch it,” he’d grunted. “Bossy.”

And the White had relaxed. A little less danger for Dean to be in.

Another thing to take and let ignite you from within. To grab onto and cast around your body, until those fractured pieces could grow a little further back together, and the world could be a little more colorful.

Days later, you’re still keeping the arrowhead under your pillow. Dean hasn’t tried to take it, but there’s no other place for it to be.

It has to stay with you.

Because whatever Ruby thinks it is, she’s wrong.

There had been a brief moment of terror, when Sam had said made to kill powerful things, but then you’d looked at it and you’d known that wasn’t the truth. The weight over your chest and pressing on your lungs had been relieved, but only for a second.

Then you’d looked closer, and it was something far worse.

There were four languages carved into the jade, and one of them was shifting and strange the same way your thoughts always did when you created a ritual, the same way the words women of the high always moved on the paper. You’d told Sam it was simply witch symbols, and it hadn’t been a full lie. They were symbols, just as all letters were. And they were likely carved by a witch.

But they were likely more.

Because this thing was powerful.

And it fed the Darkness more than anything you’d seen before.

Everything was louder and bigger and sharper when you held it in your hands. Even Dean’s presences didn’t fully soften the sheer vastness of everything when the arrowhead was in your hands. The world was still silver, but it wasn’t blurred. It was harsh and bright and violent inside of you, barely contained and pressing up under your skin to be freed.

And then there was Dean. How when you hold the arrowhead, he’s not just leaving stains.

He’s branded into you.

It’s visible. You can feel it. You can fucking taste him, lingering in the back of your throat despite never having been that close to him before. He’s embedded in your chest and marked all over you in places that he hasn’t touched in years. There’s something faint golden painted all over your body—tangled in your hair and glowing in your guts—and it spurs all those fractured pieces into an overwhelming frenzy. They grasp onto every bit of light the gold provides and toss it all over your body until even the Darkness feels like it’s blended into the White and everything is all just silver.

But then you drop the arrowhead, your hand growing weak from just how fucking much everything is, and it all becomes numbed pain and shifting gold on the couch and Dean’s bed.

So whatever the arrowhead is, Ruby can’t have it. And Dean can’t know what it is, or why you keep staring at him with a tight frown when you hold it, watching his… everything. How he’s like a walking, breathing pillar of gold.

“Take a picture, Princess.” He mutters from the table, his attention on the laptop Sam had left you. “It’ll last longer.”

You scowl, shoving the arrowhead back under your pillow. “Shut up.”

He does.

You don’t think it’s because you told him to.

About three days of your lockdown have passed. Dean’s barely speaking to you.

It’s eating you alive.

Every day has been the same. You exist in Dean’s gravity, and he doesn’t even know you can’t pull away, and time passes in barely a crawl. You watch the tiny box TV and flip through the motel’s provided magazines and your own books, while Dean drinks and hunches over Sam’s laptop.

Half your trash is beer bottles, and you haven’t even had one. You still don’t drink—now doesn’t really feel like the time to start—and Dean probably remembers that, but it still worries you. You know he’s had a rough two years, that he had to watch John die, and Sam almost die, and fight Azazel, and deal with the Devil’s Gate, but this seems worse. Dean drank before.

He didn’t quite drink like this.

And he still won’t really look at you.

The most you get from him is grunts about food, strange looks that end the moment you catch his eyes on yours, and muttered words about how Sam sent a message, and he and Ruby are still alive.

It’s moves the Darkness to an edge. Everything is still silver, but the Darkness is still a part of that, and it’s volatile. Hateful and wrathful. Cracking over your ribs and rotten on your tongue, and at night—when Dean snores in his bed and you stare at the ceiling with your knife in hand—you feel so fucking sick once more.

And this is another one of those nights. The day had been the same as all the others, and Dean’s fast asleep across the room, and you allow yourself to look at him.

He’s still so pretty. There are a few more lines on his face and a slightly heavier expression on his face, but he’s still Dean. Still the best thing you’ve ever seen, and the only one that had ever managed to make you falter. To sit down and want to stay there, to have that strong, unexplainable pull that makes you watch him in the dark like a creep, that drags you down, down, down when he’s only existing near you.

It’s just as terrifying as it’s always been. How Dean is just more. How he was like a phantom behind you in the years apart, and how he’s all the world in front of you. How there had been moments—while you’d been apart with no belief you’d ever fall back into him again, when you’d skipped every town you set foot in and never allowed yourself to stop moving—where someone at a bar had smirked at you and asked for your name, and you’d given it, and when they’d repeated it with a drawl and heated promise in their eyes, all you’d been able to think was not Dean.

And he’s right there. In the dark.

And you’re not running.

But you are growing sicker. Watching him makes the White rear its head, and that sparks the Darkness, and Dean has always been able to set you off more than anyone else, and he’s just lying there and looking like everything you could ever need, and you’re losing control.

You push out of your bed—holding your breath and taking light steps on the creaking floor—and move to the bathroom.

You can’t use your usual methods. Dean would wake from the sound or notice the blood in the morning, and you don’t need that right now. So you take the second-best choice and turn the sink on, letting the hot water flow until steam is rising from it, and run your hands under it.

Your skin feels like it’s raw and peeling. It fucking hurts, and you might not be able to really turn a page in the morning without wincing.

But the Darkness sinks back down.

So it works.

You bow your head, eyes squeezed shut, and push on. You need the Darkness to go be tamed, to go so deep into your body that you’ll be able to go at least the whole day with no fear of losing it, with no fear of hurting-

“You shouldn’t do that.”

When your eyes shoot open, he’s right there. Dean’s frowning at you from the door, supporting himself with one hand on the frame and rubbing his eyes as he speaks.

“’S not good for you.”

“Yeah, well,” you narrow your eyes at him, furious at yourself for not locking the door, furious at him for thinking he has any right to tell you what to do. He doesn’t know you’d follow him anywhere, and trust him with your soul in his hands. As far as Dean’s concerned, you’re nothing, so he doesn’t get to tell you what to do. “You shouldn’t drink.”

He blinks at you. “What.”

“Half the motel room is beer bottles.” You snap. “And if you’re allowed to do that, I’m allowed to do this.”

“You-“ Dean jaw twitches, his eyes darting to your hands, still pressed until the steaming water. “There’s no fucking reason for you to be doing that shit-“

“Is there a reason for you to drink?”

He scowls. “That’s different, Princess-“

“Is it?” You hum, looking back to your hands. They hurt. You won’t pull them away. “How?”

“That’s not your business- It just fuckin’ is-“

“So this isn’t yours.” You shrug, letting out a long, slow breath. “Go back to bed, Dean.”

There’s a long moment where you can still see him in the doorway. You think he’s going to argue, or push you, or keep trying to convince you to step back from the sink.

But the floorboards creak, and he’s gone. You follow him, a handful of minutes later.

Neither of you mention it in the morning.

“We need to get more food,” Dean mutters that afternoon. “But Sammy took my fucking car-“

“There’s the shop down the street we used last time.” You don’t look up from your book, because if you do, you’ll meet Dean’s eyes and fall a little further. “It’s like, a five-minute walk.”

“I don’t wanna use that place, they didn’t have bacon-“

“They were out of bacon. Three days ago.” You sigh, glaring at the words on your page. You’ve read them ten times before, and you’re getting bored, but Dean will only talk to you about necessity so repetition is your only option. “I’m sure they’ve restocked.”

Dean mutters something under his breath you can’t hear, and don’t really want to.

But you’re right. When you’ve dressed and walked down to the tiny, acceptably useful grocery store—Dean one pace behind you, your body leaning slightly back as if it can’t help but try to be a little closer to him where it’s allowed—they’ve restocked on bacon.

“I’ve got a list of what we need,” you’re trying to ignore how he’s shifting at your side, like he can’t wait to move away. You wish you could blame him. “Find whatever else you want, and try not to go overboard.”

“You can’t go overboard on food, Princess.” Dean’s words are casual. Easy. Your heart skips and beat then freezes in your chest. “You try not to get lost.”

You glare up at him. “I am not going to get lost, asshole-“

He’s already walking away.

It takes all your willpower not to chase after him.

The grocery store really is small, and you don’t need much. One of the—countless—amazing things about Dean is how he’s a man of habit. Even after two years apart, you can still predict him like he’s the moon in the sky. Beer, jerky, the bacon he was so whiny about, a few pre-made pies. A lot of butter and meatballs because you refuse to not take advantage of having a real, small kitchen for the first time in years, and Dean will be eating with you whether the asshole likes it or not.

And you don’t know where he’s wandered off to at first, but you realize quickly it’s not as far as you thought.

Because you glance over your shoulder at the exact right time, and Dean’s there. Half hidden behind a shelf, glaring at a bag of vegetable broth that is so obviously a cover, you almost laugh.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

You’re too starved and desperate for his proximity—how easily everything is bright and silver in your body—to confront him.

So the rest of the grocery trip passes exactly like that.

You wander the isles to cross every item off your list. Dean stays several, poorly hidden paces behind you like some kind of oddly trained guard dog. You indulge him and pretend he’s being stealthy, when in reality he’s just a massive man very obviously following you around in a grocery store.

At one point you catch his eye and raise your brows—because you just can’t fucking help it—and you could swear he blushes before he looks away.

This is so strange. He’s barely looked at you all week, and suddenly he’s doing this.

You wish you could bring yourself to care about that a little more.

Around the canned goods isle—chicken soup because it’s easy—a woman approaches Dean. She’s not a demon, just a pretty human with soft eyes that are fixed on your—not your—Dean, but you still feel something stabbing and biting in your gut when he even looks at her.

It’s pathetic. You have no claim there, no valid reason to want to march over and link your arm through Dean’s like you used to, to suddenly wish he’d just fucking stop the whole act and come stand at your side, but that doesn’t stop the feeling

Or the way the whole world—in and out of your body—sings when Dean dismissed the woman barely a chance. When he glances at her, shrugs off her overly sweet words, and doesn’t shift at her fluttering lashes. When she shuffles off with slumped shoulders, and Dean keeps up his stupid little charade of trailing you through the store.

He probably was just being cautious. You’re both a little wired and vigilant given the whole situation.

But those featured pieces still bloom and grow along your body. And you can’t bring yourself to be bitter about it.

Neither of you mention anything when you meet back at the checkout isle. Dean shoves his hands in his pockets with a short nod and grunt of done, stays his usual one step behind you, and pretends nothing odd happened at all.

“I got you one case of beer,” you say as you approach the front of the line. “If you want more, I’d go get it now-“

“One is fine.” He leans slightly forward, and you can feel the heat from his body, and he smells like grass and spice- “Where the hell is my bacon.”

You turn to glare at him, and fuck, that’s a mistake. He’s very close, and you can see the slight crook of his nose and how full his lips are, and if you moved your hand up a little you could trace along his jaw-

“Did you forget my fucking bacon-“

You pull yourself together, and give him a flat look. “Such little faith, Deano-“

“I’m not seein’ it-“

You shift around the basket, pushing items aside as you take a step forward, revealing the three packs of bacon and placing them on the checkout belt.

“It was the first thing I got,” you shrug, moving the rest of the food out of the basket. “Add whatever you grabbed to the belt.”

He hadn’t grabbed anything. You were pretty fucking certain Dean hadn’t actually gotten anything, because he’d spent the whole time following you. The only reason he missed the bacon was because you’d gotten it first, and he’d been-

Getting something. Dean reaches into his jacket and pulls out a few candy bars and fruits, dropping them onto the belt without a glance in your direction.

“What-“

“They’re for you.” He mutters. He’s still not looking at you. “You never freakin’ remember to get yourself something.”

You blink at him, and nod slowly.

He got you things. He’d followed you through the grocery store and got you things, but he still won’t look at you. He’ll barely speak to you.

Another day passes, and Dean won’t just look at you.

You’re not sleeping. And that’s no different than normal, but this feels worse. When it had been you and Jo—before your party got crashed—Jo had agreed to do shifts. She’d known what was happening, known that there was no world where you’d sleep easy, especially not with another person in the room, and she’d talked you into rotating schedules.

It had worked.

And in the past month with Sam and Dean, you’d had your own room. If demons burst through the door, you’d be the only target.

But now you’re putting Dean in danger.

So you don’t sleep. You keep yourself functional with quick naps in the middle of the day—when Dean’s awake and not looking at you—but you can feel cracks starting to form over your head. Somethings set to snap.

You’re going to break.

You can feel it coming, like a storm moving in and pressure shifting in the air.

Your only hope is to hold it down. You try to hold it down. The hot water is running out faster, and the skin around your nail is raw and bloody, and Dean still won’t look at you-

And your guard slips.

When they arrive, you’re not ready.

Your head is a little fogged. You’d left your knife on your bed, in your jacket from when you’d gone to the motel lobby for more toilet paper. Your back is to the door because the sun is too bright, and it’s giving you a headache. You’re curled on the couch because everything hurts, and Dean’s still in the lobby grabbing ice and you wish he’d just finish the fuck up, because you need him close but you’re never allow to say that-

You’re too tired to think anything of the first bang on the door. It’s likely just housekeeping, even though you’d put the do not disturb sign up, and carried the toilet paper back yourself.

The second bang makes you frown, and you can’t see anyone outside.

Third bang. Your voice is dripping with exhaustion when you raise it, trying not to flinch at the fourth bang.

“Sorry, we have do not disturb-“

“Don’t be sorry, darlin’.” A drawling, almost honeyed voice drawls from the other side of the door, and your blood runs cold. “And I can promise this ain’t gonna be disturbin’ if you make it easy.”

You try to launch to the bed, to grab your knife, but the door crashes open before your jelly-like body can even get off the bed.

You manage to scramble to the edge of the mattress, grabbing the arrowhead and shoving it into your jeans, but you’re barely turning before the violent, rioting and furious green grabs you by the throat and yanks you up-

Instinct kicks in, and you ram your knee into the vessels gut. It’s enough for the grip to falter, enough for you to pry his grip off your neck with shaking finger and scramble back, but there are three more and one grabbing your arms and the second has it’s knife aimed right into your chest-

“Dean!” It’s the only thing you can think to say. Scream. Pray. “Dean, I- Dean!”

You hear a gunshot go off, and a choked sound leaves your throat, but no abnormal pain comes.

The demon behind you slumps, you got right down with its weight, and the one with the knife stumbles right over your head.

You’re still too tired to fight properly. But you’re not useless. You slam your body into the knifed demon’s legs, and roll away as he topples down.

Then you look up, see Dean’s jaw clenched as he wrestles with the fourth demon, and demon you’d kneed earlier is coming up right behind him with the knife-

It wouldn’t have killed you. If the demon on the floor had gotten you, you’d have screamed and shattered but lived.

You don’t think Dean will live.

And the rush kicks in.

You launch yourself at the demon that’s behind Dean, wrapping your arms around it’s neck and squeezing with all the strength in your body.

Dean turns with wide eyes and a roar of your name, and you rear all your body weight forward. Slamming your demon into the one that Dean’s had been fighting, because the dumbass hadn’t knocked him down and he’d been barreling at Dean like a tank.

You jump off right in time, and Dean catches you. Steadying you on your feet and scanning over your face like he’s looking for something, opening his mouth to say something but shutting it closed when the still conscious demon on the floor start to stumble upwards.

Dean shoves you behind him and draws his gun once more, the shot echoing around the motel room as you dunk under his arm and run to the bed-

Dean shouts your name, and you can feel his gaze searing into your skull. “What the fuck are you-“

You grab your knife—jumping up on the bed and spinning it in your hand—and launch forward, grabbing Dean’s head and shoving it down as you land on the first demon’s shoulder’s driving your knife right into its chest.

These vessels weren’t going to live. You hadn’t bothered to tell Sam and Dean at the gas station—it was already a shit day, and you didn’t want to be fucking bummer—but you’d learned the hard way that the moment a green demon possessed a human, they were done. That ripping and tearing violence inside of them killed them the same as any bullet or blade.

So you don’t pull punches.

And you tear your knife right down the demon’s skin.

Dean catches you again, when the demon under you collapses. Holds you right to his side as he shoots the last demon—crawling up behind you with a blade angled at your calf—and keeping you there in the long moments after.

He looks like an avenging angel or something else stupidly beautiful. The arrowhead is still a weight in your pocket, and Dean’s muttering words you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, and he’s glowing and golden and powerful—rioting in an almost righteous way, in stark contrast to the vicious fury of the green demons, rocketing out of their vessels and screeching out the windows—and you put him in danger.

Dean could’ve died. You could’ve gotten him killed.

You could’ve killed him.

And suddenly you’re not your own anymore. The rush fades and it’s all too real and Dean’s right here, but you could’ve lost him and had no one to blame but yourself because you’re cancerous and evil and wrong and can’t just save him—save something so permanent and beautiful that you have no right to be protected or served by in any way—because you’re the bad thing, you’re the sickness, you’re worse than the demons. And you’re everywhere. You’re the jagged pain of the shattered windows and the ache of the cracked walls and the shredded fever of the torn blankets and ruined couch-

“Hey,” Dean’s muttering your name, his voice low and firm, and it’s the only thing in the world that isn’t painful. “You’re good. We’re both alive, Princess, don’t- Shit, don’t cry-“

Something warm but not burning is cupping your face, and tracing your cheeks, brushing away a white-hot stain that had begun to wash out of your stinging eyes-

You are crying. And Dean—those were his hands, touching you carefully, like he was afraid you’d shatter in his hold when you’ve never felt more whole—is wiping away your tears.

You’re fucking pathetic.

And you can’t stop yourself leaning into his touch, falling into his focused certainty, and letting out a shaky breath when he starts to pet down your nose and the world sinks right back into your body.

You’re only you again.

But you’re still Dean a little, too. He’s so golden and you’re molten silver a little to the right of your heart, and those fractured pieces are surging up and around you, blooming and furious and bright, so fucking bright-

It’s good Dean pulls away right then. You’d been seconds from fusing fully back together, from something not snapping apart, but into place.

You already too far gone.

You still need to be able to pretend you’re not completely, irreversibly his.

Neither of you speak. You don’t really see a reason to. Dean just watches you, and you watch him, and then you’re both moving.

The motel is trashed. Cracks mark up the wall, the bed and couch have been flipped, the door was fully crashed through, and there’s really no universe where anyone who sees this doesn’t call the cops. Ruby checked in, and the room was under her fake name and credit card, so all you and Dean need to do is leave.

Dean starts to gather everything together—including your blood-stained jacket, the arrowhead stuffed safely in the jacket—as he calls Sam, telling him what happened, and that you’re skipping town. You head outside while that fun conversation happens, surveying the cars and picking the fanciest, fastest one you can find.

“No.” Dean snaps, glowering down at you in the driver’s seat. “You’re fucking begging for attention in that this thing, sweetheart, cops will catch us in an hour-“

“So we’ll drop this at 59 minutes.” You say, holding his gaze. “And take the train from there. This car only needs to get us the furthest away, not fully out.”

Dean scowls. “I am not taking the train-“

“Yeah, you are.” You nod your head to the trunk. “Pack up and haul ass, car boy. Now.”

You get a mutter of fucking trains, but Dean does what you’re telling him and soon you’re bound for Chicago, staring at Dean from across the train compartment.

You’d gotten a compartment. And a bed.

One bed.

You’re going to stab someone. You did not pay almost two thousand dollars on a fake credit card for a double private room, only to be stuck in your most beautiful, terrifying nightmare.

Sleeping next to Dean.

You’d been careful. You’d been so fucking careful, for so many years, to not give in to being that more for Dean. Because it would never be enough. Dean could’ve flirt and tease all he wanted, he never wouldn’t convinced you to share his bed because you’d never just share his bed. It would’ve been a catalyst. Something would’ve shifted in you, and there would never be any coming back from Dean. There was the whole, vast, amazing and horrible world, and then there was Dean, and he could maybe be yours.

He’d never be yours. You weren’t something someone wanted to have.

But that being the truth didn’t stop the longing or craving or need. It never had. So you’d made it clear that you barely slept in the same room, and you never shared a bed.

And almost six years of effort—four if you didn’t count those two years apart, which was still far too many years—were crumbled because you said room for two people, the ticket lady added who are sharing a bed in her head, and you’d only caught it when it was too late.

It could be fine. You feel like you’re about to pass out but you’re also far too paranoid to sleep, Dean had been up at the crack of dawn to steal all the hot water and it’s almost midnight, and this is a twenty-one hour ride so eventually you’ll both need to sleep.

You could stagger it. Dean could sleep, then you could sleep.

But then he’d realizes you don’t actually sleep, and that would be a whole thing that you didn’t need. You know you need rest. You are perfectly aware sleep is good for you.

Every single nerve is alight in your body with fear that a demon will crash through that door as well, the Darkness is one wrong nightmare or sound from bursting out of your body, and guilt is swollen in your stomach and sticking in your throat as one single thought loops in your head.

You could’ve gotten Dean killed.

He could’ve died. He’s fine—his arms crossed as the glares at the room around you, splayed out over the compartment’s chairs—but Dean could’ve died. Because of you. Because you’d dragged the green demons there, and you’d put him in danger, and you’d been useless, you’d barely held it together, you hadn’t held it together, and Dean had been there to pull you back up but what if he wasn’t-

“Stop doing that.”

You blink at him, he jerks his head to your hands, and you realize that blood is running down your fingers.

You hadn’t even felt it.

And you make a choice. He needs to know. He needs to understand that you don’t mean to, you never mean to, and he’s in danger as long as he’s with you so he should run, he should kill you or put you down and then run-

“Dean.” You whisper, bracing yourself for the fallout. Telling Jo went alright, and she’d only just met you.

Dean isn’t Jo.

He’s so much more. And even just him running might break something fundamental in your body, that lives just to the right of your heart.

He grunts. “What.”

“I- the demons-“ You stare at his hands, because you can’t stand to look at his face. Maybe those same hands will be strangling you in only seconds. You’ll find out. “I- We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right freakin’ now, Princess.”

“I know, but I-“ Deep breath. Nails in your skin. Keep it together. “They were at the motel for me. The demons, they were there for me-“

“I got that, Princess.” He grunts, and your gaze shoots up find him glowering at you, his words low and his jaw clenched.

He knows. He’s known, or he figured it out, and it’s over but why didn’t he say anything and why aren’t you dead but why does he look like he wants to throttle you or pin you against something-

“You still have that freakin’ arrowhead.”

“I-“ You swallow, your brow furrowing as you stare at him.“What?”

“The damn arrow thing, that you wouldn’t give to Ruby-“

You shake your head, your voice growing a little stronger. “That’s not- I couldn’t give it her-“

”I’m not complaining about that, the bitch is a demon. You’d be better off trusting a damn witch or vamp.”

It’s hard not to flinch at that. You manage. “Then what are you-“

“You’re just-“ He scowls. “You can never fucking listen.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“I told you to fucking wait for me,” Dean snaps, sitting a little taller. “Those sons of bitches never would’ve even gotten to you if you’d just stayed with me.”

You don’t remember that. Your brain had been the same, blurred haze it is now, deprived of sleep and aching for Dean while only knowing that it can’t have him.

It pokes through the fog. Dean grunting wait for me, we gotta stick together as he hunched over the ice machine, and he’d smelled so good, and you’d almost collapsed over him.

You’d barely heard him. You’d just known you couldn’t be there, or you would’ve destroyed something that already barely held together.

But Dean can’t know that. It will lead to more questions you’re not ready to answer, because he’d just said witch like it was barely better than demon, and just as bad as vampire.

You’re bending. You can’t.

So you raise your chin, and hold his gaze. “I didn’t hear you. And I’m fine-“

He scoffs. “You were fucking sobbing-“

“Because I just got attacked by demons-“

“Which happened,” he leans forward, his voice a hiss. “Because you didn’t listen to me. You never just fucking listen-“

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off, Winchester, you’re not my dad-“

“No. And that doesn’t matter. You don’t listen to anyone. You-“ He shakes his head, and you think he’s seeing right into you. Finally, really seeing just how wrong you are, and getting ready to deliver the killing blow with only his words. “You’re so goddamn stubborn, and you’re going to get yourself fucking killed and I won’t be there to save your ass-“

“I don’t need to save my ass.” You snap. “I’m fine, Dean. I can handle myself, and I’m stubborn because I know what the hell I’m doing-“

“You’re stubborn,” he sneers. “Because you can’t stand that sometimes, sweetheart, you’re fucking wrong. You don’t listen because you hate not being in control-“

It cuts deep. You can cut deeper. “At least people listen to me, Dean. At least I can tell people what to do, instead of following someone around like a fucking dog-“

“Well at least I never fucking run! At least I don’t leave people whenever things get hard, when they-“ His shout is pushed through his teeth, and it’s almost venomous. “You fucking run. You just goddamn vanish, and act sick, when you’re fine, just can’t fucking stomach having to deal with something instead of fucking running.”

“Are you talking about the-“ You gape at him, shaking your head. “I had to leave, asshole! I fucking had to-“

He rolls his eyes. “You never have to, you just didn’t want to deal with all of our shit, but you never- You just-“

“Azazel threatened me.” You hiss, the words falling out like vomit, before you can stop them. “He told me he’d kill Bobby if I didn’t vanish.”

Dean stares at you, and you hadn’t meant to tell him that. You’d meant, earlier, to explain what was wrong with you and leave John and Azazel fully out of it. Dean had loved his dad. You’d known that, and you’d known better than to make him face the horrid truth that John was a fucking asshole, shit-headed cunt-face of a father.

Maybe that’s why you still hadn’t mentioned that John had been a part of it. Dean already looks like he’s tearing his head apart trying to figure out if he should believe you for what you did say.

You don’t need to make this worse than you already have. For either of you.

“Azazel…” Dean trials off, shaking his head like he’s trying to physically remove something from his skin. “He fucking- what-“

“He said if I didn’t leave, he’d- He’d kill Bobby.” You let out a slow breath, scanning over Dean’s shocked expression. You’re a little worried he’s going to hurt himself, with how you can see his brain whirling behind his eyes.

There’s not a lot of color on his face.

“And you- You just-“ Dean’s throat bobs, and something flashes in his eyes. “You should’ve fucking told me, I would’ve protect you-“

You shake your head, and whatever burning anger in your body had been there moments before was gone.

You’re really just so fucking tired.

“You have enough people to protect, Dean.” You’re looking at his hands again. Curled back into fists. You want to touch his knuckles, a little bruised and swollen from the fight. At least press ice to them, keep them from getting worse. Keep Dean from being in pain. “And I was okay. Bobby’s okay. Nothing- I didn’t want to.” You swallow, choking on a lump in your throat. “I never wanted to.”

“Bobby- He said you were sick-“

“I am.” You mutter. “Two things can be true.”

“How?”

You frown at him. “How-“

“What’s wrong with you.”

You can’t tell him. Not now. You will, when you have more courage than a martyr and you’re feeling a little less intelligent, but not now.

Now you just give him a sad, soft smile. “My- I don’t know. I’ve never been able to figure it out.”

He nods slowly, and suddenly he won’t meet your eyes. “Sammy could look at you. He’s smart.”

“I’m smart-“

“Yeah,” he offers you his own little half-smile, and his teeth flash white in the low light of the compartment. “But you can be real dumb, Princess.”

He hasn’t said Princess like that since you returned. In a way that feels like a name, in a way that’s almost more than affectionate. Filled with an odd honor you can’t place, and tugging your own smile a little wider.

And everything blends, so easily, back to silver.

You pull out a book. Dean locks the door and starts to clean his gun, humming low music until you chuck your iPod at his face.

He grumbles, but put his earbuds in, and starts to stretch out on the seats.

It’s a silent decision he’s making himself. Dean will sleep on the seats, you’ll sleep on the bed.

You won’t sleep on the bed. You’ll pretend to, ignoring how he’s right there. You’ll stare at the ceiling and count the little dot on it to pass the time, and everything will be better in the morning, when Dean is—maybe, just maybe—your friend again, and he’s safe, and you’re in pain and exhausted, but that’s okay-

“Go to sleep,” Dean mutters your name, and you frown.

“I am asleep.”

You think you hear him chuckle. “Sleep more, than.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are, De. You always are.”

You can hear his frown through the dark. “I don’t love the third degree, sweetheart-“

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe. You need fuckin’ sleep.” He pauses, his voice getting slightly softer. “I’ve- You don’t sleep. You gotta sleep.”

You let out a long breath, frowning at the ceiling. “I can’t.”

“Because you’re sick?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “It’s- Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence, then- “What does Bobby do.”

“He-“ You swallow. “When I was younger he’d do a sweep of my room. Like a real hunt.”

“And now-“

“Nothing.”

“Oh.”

You think you can hear Dean’s brain moving, and you don’t know why this matters to him so much. It’s just sleep. You’ve lived like this forever, worse and worse over time, and eventually you’ll just pass out and everything will be fine-

“Would it help if I was there? With- uh- with my gun?”

His voice isn’t as firm as usual, and it’s almost nervous. Like he’s afraid of the answer.

And you should say no. A gun wouldn’t even do anything, not with these demons.

But you’re tired, and that always makes you weaker. And Dean’s here, and that always makes you dumber.

“Yes.” You whisper. “Please.”

You hear him moving from the seats without any further conversation, and when his weight settles beside you, his thigh presses to yours.

It would be too much if it was Dean. If his warmth wasn’t something you’d always chased after, even when you’d both be sweating in Georgia or Texas, even when your blood had been running high and the sun had been beating down on your skin.

Up close, it’s so easy to fold into. It’s soothing, and he smells like grass and spice all around you, and when your eyes flutter open for even a second the whole world is softly glowing with gold.

It’s imprinting deeper on your body, just from how close he is. Not everywhere, but close. And the gold is sinking so far down you’ll never be able to pull it back out. Those fractured pieces are so terrifyingly close to growing fully back together, and you don’t know what you’ll become when they do.

You can’t really find it in you to care.

The sound of Dean’s snoring is like a lullaby, and the smell of his is like an anesthetic and just his presence is making the world something peaceful.

For the first time in years, sleep comes fast, and you go down without a fight.

And for the first time in your life, you feel truly rested when you wake up.

End Note: Sam Winchester you are once again God’s strongest solider for not grabbing them and mashing them together like they’re barbie and ken dolls. I just know he spent his whole trip with Ruby bitching about how impossible they are. Thank you for your service my king.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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elliewrites77 · 1 day ago

Text

Uncle!Sukuna Part 6

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

masterlist

Uncle!Sukuna who puts his plan for a second date on temporary hold. The day after the incident with Yuji, you sat him and Sukuna down for that "talk" about why they shouldn't resort to violence, and what other methods they could use to get their emotions out. He hated every second of it. But he did enjoy watching you in your professional element. You were stern and serious, but still had a gentleness about you that showed you actually cared.

Uncle!Sukuna who was falling, real hard, real fast.

But he pushed that aside, instead offering to take Choso out for the day that weekend. He could tell the boy needed some cheering up, and your worry was only getting worse, so he offered to take Choso to some "kid-appropriate guy stuff", and asked you to help Yuji with the finishing touches on his project. Both boys were up for it, and when Saturday hit, you and Yuji waved Choso and him goodbye.

Uncle!Sukuna who couldn't deny that the car ride was a little awkward. He still wasn't very good with kids, and honestly, he was starting to wonder what he was thinking when he offered to do this. He liked the kid, sure, but he knew very little about him. One thing he did know was that Choso and himself were very bad with people, and general socialization wasn't really their thing. So from the house to the mall, the car was silent.

It wasn't until he parked, turning the car off, that Choso spoke.

"I know you like my mom."

Sukuna is silent, stunned by the sudden call-out. He stares out the windshield blankly before his eyes move to the rearview mirror, meeting Choso's. Th boy looks calm and sure.

"You don't have be friendly with me just to get on her good side. She already likes you too." Choso added after a short period of silence.

His words make Sukuna's brow furrow. He ignores the part about you liking him back, turning his head to glare straight at the boy.

"Listen, brat. You're here with me because I wanted you to be, not so I could get brownie points with your mom. Now say something like that again, and I'll throw you in the mall fountain." He quickly got out of the front, leaving Choso to blush at his words. He has a small smile on his face when he climbs out.

Nothing more was said as they walked into the mall. Sukuna took him to the comic store first, that being the whole reason they were there. He watched as the kids eyes lit up, looking around at all the images of his favorite superhero's . It made Sukuna smirk.

"Get what you want. If you see something you think Yuji would like too, let me know." He said before they split up. Choso went to look for his favorites, making sure to keep an eye out for Yuji's too.

Sukuna kept his eye on the kid as he browsed, not caring much about looking at the selection. But his eyes caught on one of the covers, making him pause as a memory surfaces from the pits of his brain.

A young Sukuna is approached by his twin, the younger of the two having his usual grin on his face, while his older brother had nothing but a scowl. Sukuna barely acknowledged his brother until he is standing in front of him, looking far to excited for no reason at all.

"What?"

"It's our birthday tomorrow!" Jin replied. Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"I know that, idiot. Like you said, it's our birthday."

"Well I wanted to give you your present early."

Sukuna looked at his younger twin, confused. They never got each other gifts.

He doesn't get a chance to ask before Jin pulls out a flat, wrapped gift from behind his back. He holds it out to Sukuna, his grin never wavering. Sukuna slowly takes it, holding it in his hand for a second with a skeptical look on his young face.

"Open it." Jin encouraged.

Sukuna listened, tearing off the wrapping paper slowly to reveal a comic book still preserved in the plastic. Sukuna examines the cover, recognizing it as one he's seen Jin read before, one that Sukuna had actually been interested in reading (though he never said that).

"I know you've wanted to read it, so i thought I'd get you a copy. That way, it's something we can enjoy together." Jin admits, practically bouncing up and down with his excitement for Sukuna's reaction.

The older twin is surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gift, and his twins desire to have something they can share. It makes his chest feel full, but he clears his throat in an attempt to appear unaffected. Even at 10, he preferred appearing reserved.

"Uh..thanks, loser." He says after a second, ignoring his brothers grin. Jin can see right through him. "I didn't get you anything." He adds.

"That's okay. Just make sure to tell me what you think once you've read it."

Jin leaves, and Sukuna is left looking down at the colorful cover.

That comic was one of the few things Sukuna ever shared with his brother. It was one of the few things they could talk about and enjoy, finally having a common ground. Sukuna would never had said it before, but he could admit, at least to himself, now that this one comic brought him and Jin a little bit closer.

Which is why he picks it up, not bothering to look at anything else when he moves toward Choso. The kid had already picked out a few comics, some for him, some for Yuji (though he couldn't read that well yet). The two checked out, before making their way through the rest of the mall.

They walked through a few stores, Sukuna buying whatever Choso wanted without complaint. The kid was grateful each time, not expecting Sukuna to do so. But eventually, Sukuna was tired of hearing "are you sure? thank you" over and over.

"Say thank you again and I'll take it all back." He threatened. Choso laughed, nodding in agreement. Sukuna wasn't as intimidating when you got to know him.

They finished their afternoon with some food in the food court, before leaving with plenty of bags and two full bellies.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The care ride back was far less awkward, but the two still didn't talk much. They simply enjoyed the low music playing through the radio, and the easy ride home.

When they were close to the neighborhood, Choso spoke up.

"If you and my mom get married, would that make Yuji my brother?"

Sukuna blinked in surprise, glancing at the boy in the mirror. Choso had a curious look on his face, genuinely wondering.

"Yuji isn't my son." Sukuna answered after a moment, ignoring the feeling he gets at the idea of marrying you.

"So he'd be my..cousin?" Choso asked. That wasn't as cool as 'brother' but it wouldn't be too bad.

"I...I guess. Technically, yeah." Sukuna answered, trying to brush it off with a shrug. He didn't know why they were talking about this. "But your mom and I aren't even dating, so don't worry about shit like that."

"But you both want to date. Don't you?"

"Don't you have other things to worry about, brat? Since when are you so damn nosey?"

"Mom says it's good to be curious and ask questions."

"Yeah well, not about this. Just worry about your comics and your ma and I will worry about..all the other stuff."

Choso huffed, not happy with his question going unanswered, but figured it didn't make sense to push it. Not right now, at least.

"Well, I like you. And Yuji. So I hope, even if you don't date my mom, you both stick around." Choso admits. Sukuna looks back at him again.

"Yeah?" He sees Choso nod. "Well I...we like you too kid." He says, his voice a lot quieter and soft. His eyes return to the road, right as they turn down the street to your house.

Neither of them say anything more, but both feel a little bit lighter at the confession.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Uncle!Sukuna who walked into your house a few minutes later, to the sound of upbeat music playing and two voices, very off tune, singing along. He shares a look with Choso, before they walk further in. They stop at the kitchen, seeing you and Yuji dancing around together while seemingly baking. There's a sheet of cookies already laid on the counter to cool, telling Sukuna you both have probably been at this for a bit. He smirks as the smell finally catches up with Choso, who rushes forwards towards the two of you. The sound of his steps catches your attention.

Once again, Sukuna is sure his heart stops when you give your son a large grin, hugging him tightly. It gets worse when you look up, giving Sukuna the exact same beautiful smile.

You turn down the music as he walks into the room fully, Yuji immediately running towards his uncle to be picked up. His bright grin is in place as he starts to ramble about the things the two of you did. He's talking so fast that Sukuna can't understand but a few words, but he doesn't bother interrupting the boy. He simply holds him with one arm, staring at him with a raised, unamused brow. He sees you and Choso talking out of the corner of his eye.

Once Yuji has calmed down a little, you turn to look at them with another smile, handing Choso a cookie while you do.

"Did you get me anything, Uncle Kuna?" Yuji asks, staring at the man expectedly. Sukuna scoffs, wanting to call the boy spoiled for thinking he got him something. But he couldn't, because Sukuna did in fact get his gremlin of a nephew stuff.

"Yeah, but don't expect me to every time. I'm not gonna let you get spoiled." He glares slightly. Yuji ignores that completely, clapping happily at his uncle's words. He wiggled, wanting to be put down to go play. "tch. can't ever stay still." Sukuna mumbled as he set Yuji down. The kid immediately took off, grabbing Choso's hand on his way and dragging the surprised boy to another room of the house.

"Don't know where he's going. The shit's still in the car." Sukuna says with a smirk. His words make you laugh, bringing his attention back to you. "How was he?"

"He was lovely. We finished the project, I think it will score good, and then he wanted to bake some. Said his mom used to make cookies all the time, so I thought it would be a nice treat and help cheer him up." You answered. Sukuna was a little surprised at the mention of his late sister-in-law. Yuji didn't really talk about his parents much. But he didn't think much of it.

"They smell good. Surprised you let him have any before dinner." Sukuna smirked, knowing how strict you usually are about desserts before supper. He moved closer, leaning on the counter as you took the last back of cookies out of the oven.

You huffed playfully, setting the cookies down to cool.

"Well I'm not a monster. Finishing the project was a little emotional for him, so I wasn't gonna be strict with him about something as little as this." You replied. Sukuna frowned slightly at that, but he could understand why. "Also, I don't think I've ever heard of a pair of twins who are so totally opposites, I honestly wouldn't have known you were both related in any other situation." You teased.

"Wait, how'd you know Jin was my twin?" Sukuna asked, thrown back by your knowing something that he definitely never told you. Sure, you saw pictures, but him and Jin looked nothing alike, so surely the twin thing wouldn't be easy to assess. It was your turn to be confused, and you gave him a look as though the answer was obvious.

"Yuji, of course. He mentioned it a while ago. Did you not think that would ever come up?"

"Yuji talks about his parents that often?"

"Of course he does. He talks about them all the time. His dad apparently told him a lot about you, so he talks about that too."

Sukuna was shocked. Yuji hardly ever talked about his parents to him. He thought the kid was just a silent griever, like him, but apparently that wasn't the case. Sukuna frowned as he tried to understand why Yuji wouldn't want to talk about them with his own uncle.

You see this, understanding immediately where his confusion was coming from.

"Does he...not talk about them with you?" You ask softly.

"..No. not really. I figured he just..didn't like talking about them. Figured it might be hard for him." Sukuna answers. His frown turns to a slight scowl at the feeling that he might be doing something wrong. If Yuji wasn't coming to him to talk, didn't that mean he wasn't doing what he needed to in order to show the kid he could be there for him?

His thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his arm, and his eyes snap to meet yours.

"I don't think Yuji is the one who has trouble with it." You said gently. He got what you meant. "If you want to know why he doesn't, I think you should ask him." You added, just as the boys ran back into the room.

Sukuna watched as they excitedly showed you something they drew, contemplating your words. He knew you were right, you always were. He just didn't know how the hell to go about it. Talking wasn't his forte, none of this was, but especially not that.

But he remembered he told himself he would be better, and wanted Yuji to be open with him, even if he struggled with that himself. So he knew he'd have to figure out a way to talk to the brat, sooner rather than later.

He decided to save that for later tonight, though, when you turned to him with another pretty smile, as Yuji runs towards him to shove his drawing into the mans face.

Uncle!Sukuna who gets offended when you offer to pay him back for everything he got Choso, simply walking away without dignifying you with a response. He basically pouted as he helped you make dinner, making it seem like you has actually insulted him. It made you laugh.

Uncle!Sukuna who isn't surprised when he finds Yuji and Choso passed out on the couch once more. In the short time after dinner, while Sukuna help you clean up, they had gone to watch some TV. He will never understand how they can go from so energetic to snoring and halfway falling off of the couch.

Uncle!Sukuna who smirks when Yuji actually does fall off of the couch. He still didn't wake up, making Sukuna shake his head in disbelief. He was pretty sure the kid could sleep through anything.

Uncle!Sukuna who approached your bed room, knocking on the door softly. He couldn't help but admire you when you opened the door, obviously getting ready to go to bed soon. You smiled again, opening the door to allow him inside.

"They're asleep aren't they?" You assumed with a chuckle. He smirked, nodding as he examined your room.

"Knocked out." He confirmed.

"Yuji can stay here tonight, if you don't want to carry him back to yours." You offered, looking at him through your mirror. His brow raised, smirk growing.

"What about me? Can't I stay too?" He teased, giving you a flirty smile. You flushed, breaking eye contact and shaking you head fondly.

"You can if you'd like." You replied after a moment, looking back at him. You see his smile drop in surprise, making you smirk. "Plenty of room on the couch for you." You added, teasing him.

His shoulders dropped, a scoff leaving him as he shook his head. His reaction made you chuckle. He moves closer and you turn to face him fully.

Sukuna remembers he had a plan, to ask you out on another date. And while this wasn't how he intended to do it, it feels like the perfect time.

"Tease," He grumbled. His hands settled on your waste, holding you just like he did when he kissed you. "What are you doing next weekend?" He asked.

You flushed, hands going to his chest because you weren't sure when else to put them. This was the closest you two has been since your date.

"Um, nothing specifically. Choso won't be here, so I was just gonna get some stuff done around the house. Why?" You replied. You could guess why he asked, but you wanted to be sure before getting your hopes up.

"How about we get to that second date?" He asked, doing his best to appear confident in his questioning. He hoped you were on the same page.

Your instant smile reassured him that you did.

"Oh yeah? I don't know, the house could really use a deep clean." You teased. He scoffed, glaring at you with no heat behind it.

"Don't be a brat." He replied, making your smile grow. His jaw clenched as he hesitated. "You..do wanna go on another one, right?" He forced himself to ask. He wanted to be clear with you, straightforward to the best of his ability.

Your smile softened.

"Yes, Sukuna. I'd love to go on another date with you." You said. The look of relief on his face made you want to tease him more, but you decided to give him a break.

He smirked softly, pulling you closer. He didn't say anything more, and neither did you. You ended the night with a soft, sweet kiss, before he left your bedroom. He took Choso and Yuji to bed in Choso's room, before actually laying on your couch. Both of you fell asleep with little smiles, feeling more secure in whatever it was between the two of you than before.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

let me know what you think! also, would ppl like to see a snippet that's about reader and Yuji's afternoon together while sukuna and choso aren't there? I realize sometimes i focus too much on one dynamic and might leave another out a bit. I assure you guys there will be plenty more about sukuna and reader in the next part! I just think it's important to build their relationships with Yuji and Choso.

I'm thankful for any constructive criticism! Thank you for reading, and all the support <3333

barely proofread

#jjk #ellie writes #fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x fem!reader #uncle sukuna #modern au #modern jjk au #modern sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fanfic #part 6

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maskedcrawford · 2 days ago

Text

Hidden Secrets

G Dragon x Reader

Summary: Steve, Ji-yong and another morning after. But this time words are spoken that can't be taken back.

Warnings: MORE Angst but this time it ends a little differently. I hope you guys enjoy! I'm having a blast writing this fic and so glad you guys are enjoying it. Please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoy and be sure to follow for updates on the story. Thank you for reading and for your support!

Chapter 2

Chapter 3- Beauty in the Mess

You listen to the phone ring, ring and ring some more. Why were you calling Steve exactly? One reason, you wanted to take your mind off Ji-yong and whatever her name is.

“Hello,” his tired but sober, for once, voice answers.

“H-hey,” you choke out.

“Y/n?” he asks as he sits up in bed, “What’s up?” he’s more alert now.

“If I text you the address, can you come over?” You had that feeling in the pit of your stomach that this wasn’t a good idea, but you were too hurt and frustrated to care.

“Uh, yeah just let me know where you are.”

“Ok, and bring condoms.” You say and hang up on him. Your stomach is in knots but you don’t care. You want something Ji-yong clearly isn’t going to give you and you aren’t exclusive. He said you could bring men home, so you’re going to.

You walk out of your room again and you stop and listen for a moment, there’s silence in his room and you figure he’s asleep.

“Safe till morning,” you think as you walk to the living room and watch outside the window. No need in him knocking and possibly waking up Ji. Once he gets there you let him in and put your finger to your lips making the shh motion. You lead him to your room wearing nothing but a long t shirt and your underwear.

“I uh, brough these,” he says showing you the box of condoms and you take the box and throw it aside to be used later.

“What’s going on?” his face is full of confusion and while you wish it was Ji-yong you were about to kiss, its not. But hey, he isn’t the only one who can use his imagination. You bring Steve’s neck down to your level as you capture his lips in a kiss filled with nothing but lust.

“Y/n,” he tries to say against your lips. You pull back and slip the t shirt off. You place his hands on you, knowing how to work him like a fiddle.

“Don’t talk, just make me feel good,” you say as you kiss him again. Did he make you feel good, eh not exactly. Kind of. Not the way Ji-yong did. His touch wasn’t heaven, it wasn’t electric or passionate, it was needy, rushed and selfish. He didn’t elicit the same noises or desires in you; being with Ji-yong really had spoiled you. But you honestly didn’t care as long as you got off.

“Does that feel good baby.”

“Don’t talk,” you said as you kissed him again, trying to think of Ji instead of him.

“Fuck.” You moan out.

“I thought you said we have to be quiet.”

“What did I say about talking?” you swat his face. Did you exaggerate a few noises? Of course, I mean, what good would this be if Ji-yong didn’t know anything.

Once the activity was done, you both lay there in bed heaving.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathes as he tries to cuddle you. You get up before he can fully embrace you and quietly pick up your shirt and underwear putting it back on. You honestly needed a shower after that.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Want some company,” his voice is suggestive.

“No, Steve,” your voice is filled with annoyance and you twist your face in disgust.

You turn on the hot water once you get in the bathroom, the hottest you can stand, and slip in feeling it hit and sting your skin. Tears unintentionally stream down your cheeks. You hadn’t processed the stress any of this had put you under until this moment.

“What is wrong with me,” you sobbed quietly. 9 months ago, your life was so different. Your boyfriend was decent and working, Ji-yong was just your best friend and life was smooth. Now, your relationship with your best friend is more complicated than ever and your deadbeat ex-boyfriend was waiting in your bed, after he slept with another girl! You huff as you scrub your body, trying to make it feel clean after what you had just done. You notice a spot that looks like it wants to bleed and you stop before too much damage is done.

You walk back into your bedroom after your shower and see Steve is all ready asleep. Aftercare was never his thing. He liked to fuck and then sleep. In that particular order. You roll your eyes as you get in bed, thinking once again about how Ji-yong would be treating you.

He’d clean you up first and foremost. Ask if you were ok and then he’d hold you like if he didn’t, you’d fall apart; like he was some kind of glue for you. He’d tell you how good you did, how beautiful you are, and how special he thinks you are too. He didn’t treat it as a casual thing despite the arrangement, he treated it like you were his lady, because in those moments you were.

Before you know it, morning comes and you hear the sound of shouting and pots and pans clanging together. Your eyes widen as everything rushes back to memory. You look over in a futile effort to see if Steve is with you still. Of course not.

With your emotions clear, last night’s decisions are weighting heavy on you. You crawl out of bed and sigh before opening the door.

“Get the fuck out!” you hear Ji’s voice filled with rage.

“I swear to God if you fucking touched her,” you couldn’t see him in the hallway but you knew his face was red. He’d never sounded so angry.

“Look man she called me,” Steve says. Steve was good at covering his own ass, even if it was true.

“So you fucking came? Did she not make it clear she was done with you sorry ass?” you couldn’t help but revel in the fact that he was defending you, despite the tiff, it was really sexy.

“Well, considering the fact that moaned because of me last night, no,” you could hear the smirk in Steve’s voice and you heard a glass break.

“Fucking shit, man.” You hear Steve say and you walk around the corner. Your vison is filled with a trashed kitchen and Ji-yong has a pot in one hand and a knife in the other. Steve is hunched over, more cuts and bruises, you particularly notice one to his eye. That must’ve happened before you woke up.

“What the actual fuck, y/n?” Ji-yong asks angrily, looking at you.

“I,” your voice is hoarse.

“You want me to, in the middle of making breakfast this morning, hear my shower turn on and see your naked shrimp dick boyfriend in it when I go to see if you’re up?” You catch a glimpse of his hand and see that it’s bloody, but it’s not cut. It’s Steve’s blood.

“I’m just,” Steve points to the door and he limps past you. You rub the back of your neck with your eyes closed. Fuck. He turns his attention to you and you can see the absolute rage on his face. He was hurt, don’t get it twisted, but he was also pissed someone touched what was his, even if he’d been the one to start it.

“I mean, really? What the hell were you thinking? He was drunk the last time you seen him and he tried,” he trails off closing his eyes and he slams the pot and knife down as he remembers the sight of you in danger. It makes his blood boil.

“I,”

“Actually, I don’t fucking care,” he puts his hand up. You were now to the point of being the one upset.

“Hold on,” you shout as he walks past you still in his robe.

“First of all, you weren’t even supposed to be here today. You told me you were recording today.”

“Yeah, I canceled. Didn’t realize I had to run every little plan by you,” he turns to you his eyes full of bitterness.

“Second,” you put up two fingers, “You don’t get to be mad at me with the way I chose to proceed after the bull shit you pulled last night. Not mention, third,” you hold up another finger, “You said we weren’t exclusive and you,” you point your finger to his chest, “brought someone else home first. So excuse me for thinking I could do the same thing.” You cross your arms and put your weight on your hip.

Ji-yong’s jaw clenches and unclenches multiple times

“I didn’t bring home someone who treated me like shit and broke my heart,” he seethes.

“No, you’re right,” you say too calm, “I live with a guy who can that just fine.”

He goes silent for a moment, the air between, you would swear you could suffocate in the silence.

“Was he better than me?” you’re caught off guard with his question. His voice is so low and calm it almost frightened you.

“Was she better than me?” you retort. You turn to grab a waffle off the plate in the kitchen when you hear him mumble it.

“No.”

You freeze, with a piece of waffle in your mouth, you turn a look at him, still standing there in his robe and bed head. He looked almost like a little kid as he looked at the ground. You walk over to him.

“What,” you ask as you swallow the waffle bite. He sighs and rubs his hands together before admitting this small truth to you once again.

“No, jagiya, she wasn’t better than you,” he’s looking deep into your eyes. Your face softens slightly.

“Really?” He nods his head with pursed lips.

“So tell me, was he better than me?” his lips twitch slightly. You look at the ground and tell him the truth.

“No,” your voice comes out shy and quiet.

“Mm,” he hums for a minute before coming closer to you.

“Did you at least have a nice time,” his tone is slightly cocky and you want to tear away any pride you can of his.

“Yeah, I did,” you say short and snippy, “I think you should change your mind about the studio today. It’s probably best you aren’t around me.” You say matter of factly. You start walking back to your room. And that’s when his girl from last night comes trapsing out in nothing but a bra and panties. How the heck did she not freak out over the whole ordeal?

“Oh, sorry I was just uh, oh, there you are,” she smiles shyly as she walks by you and gives Ji-yong a good morning kiss. Well actually she practically sticks her tongue down her throat.

“So are we going to spend in the day in bed like we talked about? It’s getting lonely in there,” she giggles. Ji-yong glances your way with sorrowful look at your rage is once again activated. He really had the nerve to get mad at you and she was why he wasn’t going to record? To be with some girl you were sure he didn’t know the name of.

“But Ji-yongie you promised,” you stand there shamelessly listening.

“Not today, I have something I have to do,” his eyes flit to you, “ I’ll get you an uber home.” She pouts and your fists are balled at your side. You go to your room and slam the door.

Ji-yong knew he screwed up, bad, and he wasn’t willing to leave it like this. You two hadn’t fought like this, ever. You two never really did fight, unless it was playful, but that was before your feelings, and bodies, intertwined.

He gives the blonde, who he still can’t recall her name, a kiss on the cheek as he sends her off in his uber. You walk out of your room in your clothes for the day, ready to get to work on the painting you’ve been working on. You catch him staring at you from the entry hall by the front door.

You walk into the small studio and give it a moment. You can’t risk Ji-yong walking in on your artwork. You were painting a picture of you and him, only it was becoming more abstract, much like your relationship. It started off as two people, you and him essentially, but as emotions came up and then got buried and the chaos of the last 48 hours came about, the picture began to have splatters of paint, lines through the middle of it. He’s painted in red and orange, signifying passion and love, what you felt for him. You were painted in colors of blue and gray, signifying your bottled-up emotions and the heartbreak you’re beginning to feel is inevitable.

Ji-yong pads down the hallway, not sure of what to say, how to make it right or what would happen next, but he knew he cared about you too much to not try and talk to you about it. See he never really slept with that girl, she did some things, but he never touched her. He couldn’t, she wasn’t you. That’s why Steve hurt so bad, he knew you’d slept with him, and you did it because of what you thought he did with the girl he brought home. He gently opens the door and shuts it behind him. He see’s you standing in front of a gorgeous painting, staring at it.

“Wow,” you grab at your chest as you gasp. You don’t turn around, too anxious to move.

“It’s beautiful,” he says coming up behind you.

“You weren’t supposed to see it,” you move to put it away but he tugs you back, your back hitting his chest.

“Well, now I have,” he says quietly. He feels something wet his arm as it drapes around your midsection.

“Nae sarang,” he whispers lovingly in your ear. You grit your teeth for a moment.

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you say you turn to him, your tears being freely released. He shoots his hands up in mock surrender but you aren’t done.

“You really are a jackass, you know that? You really fucking are. I mean, you sit here and treat me like shit, leave me after last night and then go out and find some broad to fuck because I beg you for it?”

“I told you why what happened yesterday did.”

“Oh my God, Ji so I laughed. I laughed because I thought the idea was funny because of how fucked up our situation is!” Your voice echoes in the room. He nods his head slowly.

“And then you think you can just trapse in here, and act like I’m yours because you said she wasn’t a better fuck than me.” You move your hands wildly now out of anger. Maybe you should’ve been the one painted in red.

“Just go, get out so I can work,” you say with a sigh as you turn to grab your paint.

“What’s the red line for?” he asks curiosity getting the better of him.

“For the rift between us. It cuts us at our core because our relationship is fractured, Ji. Whether we want to believe that or not, it’s broken. And much like the paint on this canvas, it may be that way forever.” You explain with your back turned. There’s no way you could face him and say this. You don’t see the depression that twists on his face. The way his heart breaks to hear your words. Yeah he messed up, but he didn’t know he had hurt you this bad. This was supposed to be a casual thing for you.

“Y/n” he tries to come up to you, to hold you, to tell you that you can still fix it, but you shove him away from you.

“I think I’m going to need to move out.” You mumble.

“Listen, I know I screwed up, but,” he tries to reason with you, he regrets his choices from last night more than he ever thought he would. If he’d have known losing you is what it would cost him, he never would’ve done any of this. Yet he still can’t bring himself to be vulnerable with you, not completely.

“Ji-yong, get away from me,” you say through clenched teeth. He sighs and walks out.

You hear him slam the door to his room and you blast your music through the speakers and begin painting.

What you don’t see are the tears he lets flow. If he’d never of slept with you that night, if he would’ve kept control of himself you two wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Fuck!” you hear him yell over the music and despite your anger you can’t help but go check on him, you’re mad but you still love him. You stand outside his door and gently tap your knuckles against it.

“Ji,” you say gently. He doesn’t open the door. You turn the nob and to your surprise he’s laying on his bed. The one he laid in with her not 12 hours earlier. A picture of what they could’ve looked like tangled together enters your mind and you force it away. You don’t say anything, you just lay with him, putting your hand around his body, pressing him to you.

“Don’t leave, please,” his voice is hoarse, barely coming out above a whisper. He closes his eyes, silently begging you.

“Ji, this isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it,” he turns over to face you and that’s when you see it. The brokenness he’d been hiding. The pain at the thought of you leaving, at the thought of having lost you.

“It’s not that I want you to do anything, I just don’t think we can handle this. But at the same time things can’t go back to way they were.” You absentmindedly place a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes, reveling in your touch.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he scoots closer to you, too close. Your mouths are inches from each other, your foreheads are touching, and you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Ji, we,” the tension is making your head spin as you notice his not so subtle staring at your lips.

“Oh, damn it,” you say in defeat as you pull him to you and your lips collide in a beautiful eruption of fireworks. He pulls you to him, pulling you on top of him. You separate to assault his jawline and neck. His breaths are short and pant like, his head spins from the chaos of the last few days and your touch. How the two of you could ever truly recover he wasn’t sure.

You open his robe and trail kisses down his bare chest, stopping to nip at his skin every now and again. As you trail kisses down his stomach you see her face, again, and you stop. You look at him and he can see the change in demeanor.

“What’s wrong,”

“I can’t stop picturing it.” You move off of him and back to the side.

“I didn’t really sleep with her,” he says shyly and you shoot your brows up and look at him.

“What?”

“I mean she did some stuff but I never actually touched her,” his face is slightly red. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or more pissed.

“So what the hell? You just wanted me to think you slept with her to piss me off? Make me jealous or something?”

“No, I,” he rubs his hands down his face. Once again, an awkward silence fills the room.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says after a minute of stillness.

“I don’t want to go, Ji, but I can’t keep getting my heart broken.”

“What do you mean? How is your heart getting broken if we’re just casual.”

“Because,” you freeze before anything is said you can’t take back.

“Because,” you start again, “Even if it’s casual, we’re just using each other here. That’s fucking painful.”

“Like you used Steve last night,” he quirks a brow.

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, “You did the same thing with, who was she?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Exactly, I can’t take being used by you.”

“By me?”

“Yeah, it hurts, it stings it makes me,” your chest is heaving harder now.

“I just can’t do it, Ji-yong. I thought I could. I really did.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says trying to pull you close.

“I don’t want to lose you, but I have to think of myself. Hell I’m the only one thinking of me, here.”

“Hold on, that’s not true. I was trying to wine and dine you, make you feel better about this whole thing.”

“You did it because you wanted sex, you wanted my body, Ji-yong. I know that all ready. Dinner isn’t required when you aren’t going to date someone.

“Are you saying that’s what you want? A date?” he ducks his head to peer into your eyes and you quickly glance away.

“I have a painting to finish,” you mumble and get up off the bed.

“Y/N,” he stops you from leaving. He pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Ji-yong, don’t do,”

“I’m serious. If a date is what you want, a date is what you’ll have. No sex, no strings, just a romantic evening. I’ll plan the whole thing.”

“Don’t do this to keep me from leaving,”

“Yeoja agi, I’d sell everything I own and give up my career to keep you here.”

“Do you even want to date me or is it just a casual thing?”

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

“Y/n,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m crazy about you.” You look at him stunned.

Tags: @loveesiren @natalicss @mashtatosworld @nerdydoll-com

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