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fatecantstopme · 8 months

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What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut

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bagerfluff · 4 months

Text

Your Scars Make You You

Casper x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - Scar worship

You stared at Casper’s back.

You were sitting behind Casper on your guy's bed. Casper had just finished showering and his nighttime skincare routine.

He had yet to put on a shirt because he waited for his hair to dry and he said that it is better to let your hair air dry. Anyway, you were staring at Casper’s back because there were scars on it.

Some were small, some were big, some were old, some were recently new, some were long, some of them were short. There were all kinds of scars on Casper’s back.

You never knew he had scars.

It was hard to tell over the video call and Casper had only been living with you for a few months. So this was a new discovery for you.

You reached forward and moved Casper’s out of the way so you could touch one of the scars.

A medium size one that went from Casper’s right shoulder to about the middle of his back.

You reached your finger forward and touched the top of the scar. It felt weirdly warm compared to Casper’s cold skin. Casper shivered and turned his head back at you. “What are you doing?”

He asked. “I didn’t know you had scars”, you said with your finger still running down the scar. “Well, it wasn’t easy being a Grim Reaper, people don’t want to die, you proved that sunshine”, Casper said.

“That was months ago, get over it”, you said and that caused Casper to stop talking. “Why did you never tell me”, you asked, moving from the first scar to run your finger over more.

Casper shivered again. “Never came up, plus it’s not something I go flaunting around”, Casper explained. Casper started to turn but you stopped him.

You reached forward and wrapped your arms around Casper’s waist. Pulling him so your chest was to his back. Casper looked at you confusingly, but you paid no mind to it.

You grabbed one of Casper’s arms with your hand, turning it around. Scars also littered his arms, you wouldn't be surprised if he had some on his legs too.

You rubbed your fingers over the scars, memorizing what they felt and how big they were. “What are you doing?” Casper asked, taking his arm out of your hand.

Though Casper couldn’t lie, he liked how it felt when you traced his scars.

You smiled and leaned back, staring at Casper’s back. “Admiring my boyfriend”, you said. You leaned down and kissed one of Casper’s scars.

Casper whined and pulled away from your lips. Casper turned his head to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Why?” Casper asked while you just shook your head.

“Cause you're stunning, handsome, gorgeous, you’ve said it yourself”, you said. Casper blushed and turned his head back around. You smirked and leaned down to kiss another scar.

Casper whined again, but this time he didn’t pull away.

“My pretty little reaper”, you said before you kissed a scar. Casper leaned towards you, resting his back fully against your chest. You placed your head on Casper’s shoulder and grabbed his arm.

You raised it to your lips so you could kiss it. You did that till you kissed every scar on his arm then you moved to the next. Casper whined and gasped throughout all of it, you might have to do this again just to hear those noises again.

Once you were done you leaned back and pushed Casper’s head down so he was looking up at you. You leaned down and kissed Casper.

Casper leaned his head up further to kiss you deeper and you allowed him to. The kiss was quick and rough, way too quick for Casper’s liking.

“I love your scars, never hide them from me again, cutie?”

You asked and Casper nodded with a red face. You just smirked and leaned down to kiss and scar on Casper’s chest. Casper fully leaned back, laying his head in your lap.

You scooted back so you could sit comfortable with Casper in your lap. You moved one of your hands to run up and down Casper’s chest.

Stopping every once and a while to trace and run over a scar. Casper made the most beautiful noises while you did this. You leaned down and pressed a kiss on the biggest scar on Casper’s chest.

Casper smiled slightly at your actions. His heart was beating faster than normal and his stomach felt weird.

Actually, it felt the same whenever Casper was around you. You leaned back up, “my little grim, perfect. Scars and all”, you said with love seeping out of your voice.

Casper smiles, kinda wishing he had shown you his scars earlier.

#lgbtq #male reader imagines #male reader #a date with death casper #a date with death grim #a date with death x reader #a date with death #two and a half studios #a date with death x male reader #adwd x male reader #adwd azrael #adwd grim #adwd casper #adwd x reader #casper x male reader #casper x reader #grim x male reader #grim x reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

Text

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐯 & 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 || 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: dean winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: of course, it was on the only day that dean had off that your body decided that it needed to be touched by him, and fast.

― warnings: making out, dry humping, clothed sex, teasing, pet names, praise, lazy sex, stress relief sex, cumming untouched, cumming in pants, porn without plot, cringy old writing.

― wc: 825

⋆ a/n: for some reason i hadn't posted some of my old supernatural content when i first joined the app, and since i'm working on a few things right now i figured i'd just release this never-before-seen content (it's been rotting away on my AO3 since 2022 💀). i know this is on the warnings, but i have to say it again, this is some of my super old writing, so i apologize if it's a little low brow.

masterlist | AO3

Being horny while laying on your boyfriend's chest wasn't your proudest moment, but feeling the muscles of his firm pecks flex on the side of your face as his deep raspy laugh sounded throughout the room was enough to have you pressing your thighs together. It was Dean's only time off, and you knew the man was tired, already acknowledging that you were pushing it when you asked him to cuddle with you and watch a show you couldn't even pay attention too.

This wasn't your ulterior motive; you truly did just want to lay on the couch and be skin-to-skin with Dean, seeing as though you hadn't been able to in god knows how long. You guessed that other parts of your body were affected by the distance besides your heart and your mind. It was obvious that it would be, and you had tried numerous times to get yourself off without him even though it would never compare to him — or any part of him — actually being inside you.

Just the thought caused you to squirm a bit, leaning up with a huff so that your head was lifted and brought to his attention.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He murmured, running his lips over the bridge of your nose and placing a kiss on the tip of it. You just looked at him silently before placing a tiny peck on his lips. He returned the favor sweetly. It warmed your heart to know that you were the only person besides his brother and Cas to see him like this, and even then, he was just as soft.

You tried to ignore the persistent ache between your legs as you seperated from him, as well as the pit of disappointment settling deep within your gut. You wanted more, oh god you did, but tonight wasn't about you.

"Nothin' just admiring your handsome face.” You teased, running a finger down the side of his jaw, feeling the stubble scratch the pad of your finger. “The money I would pay to feel that against my inner thighs” you thought to yourself, goosebumps raising up your arms.

"Mhm." He hummed, a smirk pulling at his lips as he was the one leaning towards you this time. You didn't fight it when he pressed his lips against yours, or when lust had began to fog your brain’s train of thought that your body began to lift up slightly, almost towering over the man below you.

His hands settled on your hips, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip to pull at it. You let out a quiet whimper, pulling away so that you were face-to-face.

"Dean..." You breathed. "You're supposed to be relaxing." He chuckled, the grip on your hips tightening as he helps to aid your crotches to grind together. "I am relaxin', dollface." The grinding didn't stop, your lips reconnecting once more. Dean shoved his tongue deep into your mouth, claiming it as his like he's done hundreds of times before. Your body went completely lax at his dominance, begging for more as your legs maneuvered to straddle his waist. You pulled off of him, settling your hands on his chest as you pressed down on him.

He guided you, watching as you rode his lower abdomen, your clit rubbing against the rough material of his shirt that began to soak with your wetness, the spot sticking onto his warm skin. A shudder ran up your back at the clear contrast between the temperatures of your bodies.

"I've wanted this all night," You moaned, your head thrown back and your hands keeping a death grip on his shirt. "I know, baby, I know." Truthfully, he didn't know, he just took your constant restlessness as you are unable to find a comfortable way to lay, not that you were holding yourself back in fear of ruining his night. If anything, it left him flattered, extremely turned on, and proud.

Your orgasm slowly began to sneak up on you; your lower spine tingling, your legs growing weak, and your desperate thrusts slowly down.

"Dean, I'm gonna cum, I—" you stuttered, almost yelled at you fell forward a bit. "Cum for me honey. I know you can, my beautiful girl." The praise was just enough to knock you down, a gut-wrenching orgasm overtook you, the noises coming out from your mouth choppy, completely high pitched.

As you came down from your high, you looked down to see Dean watching you in amazement, those big emerald, green eyes staring up at you. His lips were pulled into a tiny smile.

"How can smile when we both need to get changed?" You teased, but your face almost looked the same as his, dorky and admiration. "'Just thinking about how I'm the luckiest guy in the world. And when you feel the need to jump my bones, let me know, because 9 times out of 10, I'll be into it."

Definitely noted.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son was dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It��s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres, coño. Sigue jodiendo conmigo. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re fucking shameless. Keep messing with me. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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daichiduskdrop · 1 year

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 21

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: none!

Words: 3390

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

„And what about Barbie? The movie came out not too long ago; have you seen it yet?” Yuki asked, his voice airy and happy.

The short boy held tight on to Moonsik's hand, pulling the older beta after himself. He could already smell the comfort the Omega Store brought him.

„No, not yet, have you?” You asked, looking up at him. He shook his head. „No, I haven't. We were supposed to go with the pack, but we had been quite busy, so it didn't work out yet."

You could hear just the slightest disappointment in his voice, but it didn't take too long for him to brighten up.

„We will go soon; don't worry, baby.” Moonsik spoke calmly, ruffling up the already messy hair Yuki had.

And so, you all entered the store, where many high-quality beddings of all different sizes and patterns were neatly stocked on the tall shelves.

The omega led the way right away, pulling his mate along and mumbling something about the new silk line of sheets. While their pack certainly wasn't poor; the beta realised well that they still had to keep up with a budget set earlier, but there was no harm in looking around.

He would make sure to keep their own omega in check, though, making sure he wouldn't go overboard with things. Of course he would let him get new things for his nest; who was he to say no?

„Princess, where would you like to go first?” You looked back at the alpha, his smile soft. He couldn't help but coo to himself at you; you looked precious.

You really were, though, for them anyway.

Taking a few short steps towards you, Jimin's soft hands went around your cheeks, gently giggling at how squishy and soft they were. You were adorable.

„How about we look at the blankets first?” Pulling you from his younger packmate, Hobi took your hand in his, your other palm still in the packalpha's.

Leading you towards the large quilt, duvet, and blanket section, there were much too many to choose from. Ranging from all different sizes and prints, there were cheaper ones and also more pricey ones from the more luxurious line, which the alphas were quite interested in.

Looking over at the tall, folded fabrics first, you couldn't help but brush your fingers over a brown and white wool throw. It had a few threads cut neatly at the end, reminding you of pretty scarves.

„Come here, look at this one bunbun! It's so soft; here, baby, touch it!” The youngest alpha gasped out, picking up the carefully folded item before he skipped over to the three of you.

Setting your hands free, you gingerly ran your palm over the clean white duvet; the fabric was truly soft and nice to touch. Squeezing it softly, you could tell it was filled with feathers, therefore it would be expensive.

You hummed gently, nodding to Jungkook. It certainly was soft; that was true. Beaming at you, the alpha happily placed it back before he selected a much bigger size in a plastic, scent-free packaging.

Your eyes widened a little bit, not realising that Jungkook would just like that decide to take something to buy, solemnly based on your small smile and nod.

„What-? N-no, you ca-can't just-” You whispered out, shocked to your core. You noticed the price tag; it was over a million ₩ for god's sake! That was way too much on a simple duvet, plus you already had one too!

The man turned to you after placing the package into a cart pushed by Yoongi. „What do you mean, honeybun? Don't you want to have your own little nest?” He walked back over to you, bending to look closer at your face.

His eyes seemed so big and sweet, pulling at your heart strings. You suddenly felt shy, looking away.

„...I don't ne-nest, oppa." You whined out, having the packmate's closest by turning to look at you, hearing your soft distress. Pulling you to himself quickly, Jungkook lightly rubbed your back, scenting you a bit.

„I know sweet bunny, I know. But I think you should maybe try a little; you're such a good girl for alphas aren't you? When was the last time you did?” He asked, being mindful not to be too loud.

There weren't that many people in the store, but still, they wanted to avoid any commotion if possible. You looked away again, Hobi's fingers gently running through your hair to calm you down further.

„I don't know...” You whispered out, truly not sure. It was quite a long time, for sure. You had definitely brought some nesting materials for your grandfather's funeral, but since they carried a lot of your family's scents, you must have stopped using them soon after.

You heard Hoseok sigh out a bit. They weren't angry or disappointed at you; they would never, but still, it wasn't too healthy, worrying them to their very core.

While nesting was a quite usual act for omega's to do, it also always placed them in a very vulnerable position. A nest was only to be touched and entered after the omega's approval, and until then it was a forbidden fruit.

Not everyone understood that well, and a lot of them could end up scarred and too worried to build a nest for the rest of their lives.

It was a very important thing to do so, not just a silly tradition to use for heats and ruts. It ran in the people's blood, provided a safe spot for the pack's future pups if possible, and was therefore the most guarded spot of all pack houses.

Not only did it hold their littlest babies, it would much more likely hold their precious omega, which needed to be protected and guarded at all times.

And if not built from time to time on natural instincts, it could only mean that the person would end up more stressed and worried over time, leading to possible health issues.

Now that the pack has started the courting process with you, they have realised that it would be a rather good idea to get a separate room with the solemn purpose of a nest, hopefully made by you.

And so, as they were preparing to start the den, the other guest room they had would soon be transformed into one. They would still need to buy quite a few things, and so this stop at the store was a helpful start.

They might not get everything right away, but it would be a good thing to look around for now. And to especially take note of the things you like and what isn't up your alley.

„It's okay, peaches. You can always try again, hm? Alphas will always keep you safe, baby; don't worry.” Jin smiled softly at you, also pulling you to his chest for a beat or two.

„...Thank you, oppa." You mumbled out, your cheek squished up against his body. He chuckled softly at you, gently petting your hair before he pulled away.

„How about we take a look at the bed posts?” You nodded gratefully, gladly letting the alpha pull you after himself, a few of them trailing after you.

The large open section was filled with beds of all different sizes and shapes. Showcasing the mattress options and the many duvets, pillows, and covers, it held many different types.

And so you all looked around for a few minutes, walking through the wooden posts and the metal ones too. You always wanted to have a very cosy room to nest in, but considering how cramped your apartment was, it never looked that way; the room was only messy.

You weren't too sure about what the packmates would be interested in having their den look like; there were many styles, and each pack had a much different one.

While some enjoyed the bright and light room and the colourful sheets with many patterns, others preferred having a more casual look with posters or mirrors hung up.

You didn't really get to see any proper dens in your life, but you always enjoyed the more sleepy-looking ones—dark, comfortable sheets that just made you sleepy looking at them.

„We haven't measured the room yet, but which one do you like the best?" The packalpha asked, bended over to be face-to-face with you. His warm palms were at the arms of your pink coat, gently running over the fabric comfortingly.

It was quite a big store with many scents, and while the facemasks helped with being overwhelmed, the alphas were still on a constant watch over you entering a sudden drop.

You looked back over the many options. You weren't too sure exactly what you liked the most. There were simpler solid wood ones with a bed base only, and then a few of the much more complicated-looking ones, with the four posters, those were definitely meant to feed into the more natural instincts of many omegas.

You also really liked the look of the platform bed frames; the mattress is simply placed over the step of wood. It looked sleek and timeless.

You shrugged your shoulders, having the alpha softly pull you to himself once again. He could tell you were overwhelmed by the many options, sighing gently.

„It's okay, sweetheart. Do you prefer the wooden or metal ones, pup? We can go from there. Alpha will help you baby.” He smiled softly at you, encouraging you to make a much simpler decision.

„...I think I like the w-wood better." You said, your chin resting over the alpha's collarbone. He smiled widely, his dimples showing. You couldn't see them, though, with the mask covering it all up.

„Good job, sweetie. And what shape do you like the best?” He continued encouraging you. There were quite a few styles of beds you could choose from, with the circular ones being more traditional.

You never truly liked those; you always felt like something was a bit too cramped, and it looked awkward in the room too, if not placed with the utmost detail.

„M-maybe the normal rectangular? I'm not sure." You said. You did not want to offend anyone. He might love the other styles, for all you know.

„It's okay, pup. Thank you for telling me, baby, Alpha is very proud of his good girl.” Namjoon said calmly, knuckles running over the skin of your cheek.

Soon after the packalpha led you around the rest of the store, a few pillows, duvets, bedsheets, and other small things like new towels and sleeping mists filled up the large cart.

You held onto Namjoon's hand tightly the whole time you visited the store, only occasionally letting go to touch a few of the comforting fabrics.

„Kitty, come look here. What do you think?” Yoongi called out gently at the very end of the long row while you and a few of the alphas lingered at the front, looking over the blankets on display.

You walked over quickly, curious to see what had the alpha call out for your attention. While Yoongi held the cart most of the shopping spree, he didn't make much move to have you touch everything he found nice, letting you look around yourself first.

Instead, he just plucked the things he thought you might like right in the cart, hoping you would like them just as much as he did. He might have been one of the most quiet ones the entire time there, but for sure was one of the alphas that chose the most things for you.

With you coming closer, his arm outstretched lightly, your hand taken in his own right away. He smiled a little to himself, hiding it cleverly behind his own facemask.

Infront of him was a tidy row of a few plushies. They weren't the regular stuffed animal type, cleverly designed especially for more clingy and touch starved omegas that might have some hard times from time to time.

Placed in a plastic sealed box with a one always unboxed for the customers to touch and take a closer look at, there were many colours and types of animals, like soft pink rabbits, bears with fun outfits on, elephants and puppies, foxes or even dragons of all sizes and colours.

You had only a few toys growing up, and soft animals you could sleep with were always your favourite. You didn't have any now, unfortunately, but these weren't just a simple toy to cuddle with, no, these held a much better purpose.

As it was quite unusual for omegas to work, it was normal for them to stay back at the packhouse most of the time. Typically, another packmate would stay to keep them company, mostly to calm the rest of the pack not present down from the constant worry.

But sometimes, it wasn't possible to stay with them and everyone was required for their own arrands.

While the pack would most likely try and come back home as soon as possible, not comfortable with leaving the omegas fully by themselves, it would be quite usually nerve wracking and usually scary for the weakest second genders.

A well scented pillow or a blanket could help, but not all materials held in the smell for long enough, not working greatly.

And so a few companies started making smaller pillows and stuffed animals, that carried a special patch of fabric that would be practically drenched in the packmembers scent and wouldn't let go of it for a long time.

The items would be sold quite frequently, more and more packs using them to help from creating any stressful situations for their little ones, making more stores sell such, a giant trend settling.

You never had a thing like this, there was really no use for it with you, but you heard about them a few years ago. You liked the idea of having one though.

„Hm baby? What about the cat, it's pretty cute...” the alpha mumbled, the black fluffy cat with pretty eyes, one yellow and one green and light pink ears looked adorable for sure. It had a white tip on its tail, and was pretty big too.

„Hyung, that's not a cat that's like... A panther or something, that's too scary. Look honey, they have such a cute rabbit, don't you want one? You are my baby bunny, and it also kinda looks like Kooky too, how about that one?”

The youngest alpha hopped over, taking the pink bunny in his arms, showing you. It looked quite fluffy, and had long floppy ears that were just as long as it torso. With the special fabric to be placed into its paw, it would surely be more than nice.

„I think the puppy is much cuter princess, don't listen to silly Kookie. Do you want this one my most precious?" Jimin asked, holding the larger dog in his hands.

It was grey and white, each limb and part of its body a different colour, with a big oval nose and large black eyes. The large ears only added to the cuteness; they were quite bigger than its own legs.

You smiled softly, patting the animal. It was very sweet, warming you up on the inside.

„But babycheeks, look at the tiger; it's so soft! And it's a snow tiger too; that means it's extra speci-”" Taehyung said, letting you run your fingers over the white stripey animal. It was very comfortable to touch, for sure.

„You guys, stop. Let her choose whatever she likes the most; which one is the best pup?” Namjoon asked, pulling you gently closer to himself.

To be truthful, he was eyeing the wolf plush on the higher shelf himself.

You looked over the many options, reaching for the one that caught your eye from the very beginning. You couldn't bring yourself to decide which one you liked better exactly; you were not sure of your decision.

Reaching for the lamb, you pulled out the plastic box, holding it close to yourself. Still looking over at the different-coloured one, Seokjin was quick to notice, taking it out for you too.

„You want both cubs? That's okay, they are adorable.” He was quick to calm you down, taking the box from your arms and placing it carefully at the very top of the cart.

And so, with those in, the alphas made sure to quickly praise your choice before you were all on your way to check out—the black lamb and the white lamb paid for first.

Taking them for you, you and Hobi stood near the check-out, looking over the two comfort companions the pack had decided to get for you.

”...the scent spot is then placed in the sown pocket; it's closed off with velcro so it won't fall out. There will instruction manual in the box too; don't worry.” The man said as he scanned the many items the alphas have chosen for you today.

„Okay, thank you very much.” The eldest alpha replied, thankful that the clerk could answer the few questions he had regarding the scent animal.

„No problem; you can always stop by and we will help with any issues.” The man answered, not really paying attention to what Jin was saying.

Thanking him softly, he paid, the few other alphas carrying the bigger bags. With Moonsik and Yuki already waiting for your group by the entrance, the beta carried a much smaller bag himself.

„It was so sweet to meet you!” Yuki said happily, glad to make a new friend—an omega at that.

You nodded yourself, smiling widely. You haven't made such a nice friend in a long time, and you were beaming with excitement.

„We have to go back home now, but we will go out together again, right?” You nodded happily, typing in the omega's number, and a few of the packmembers saved Moonsik's and Yuki's numbers too.

„Yes, I would love to!” You happily answered, linking your pinkie with his for a sealed promise. You wanted to hang out with the omega much more often; you two had already made a few plans for movies and shows you would like to watch together.

And so, soon, the pair waved you goodbye, walking off towards the main exit of the mall. „We still need to buy a few things, baby peaches; let's go see some other shops.” Jin said, smiling gently at you and linking your finger with his.

It didn't take too long before most of the men dispersed into a few different directions, making sure to say proper goodbyes to you and letting you know exactly where they would be.

With Jin, and Hobi having to go grocery shopping, Jungkook wanting to check out the game store, and a few other things too, Jimin and Taehyung went on towards the few clothing boutiques, sneakily checking your shoe size this morning, happy to buy you more clothes.

And so, Yoongi and Namjoon took a hand each, Namjoon carrying a bag from the bedding store himself. They both decided to take you around a few stores they liked the best.

The first stop was the book store. While it wasn't the biggest, the packalpha had already started planning a trip to the biggest in Seoul with you soon, it had a nice selection and therefore had the alpha hooked on checking it out.

It was well lit, with a few smaller sections upfront showcasing the new bestsellers and a larger proper row of many filled-up bookshelves in the back of the store.

„What type of books do you like the best?" He asked you, leaning towards you to hear you better. You liked to read; you always did, but with school hours, you didn't always have as much time for it as you hoped you would.

„Maybe the m-more psychological ones? With a deeper thought...” You whispered, looking up at the man. He smiled softly at you, his chin going over the top of your head in a calming motion.

„What a good choice, sweetheart. Alpha will go look for a few you might like; how 'bout that?” He asked, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You nodded shyly, smiling. Namjoon stood back up tall, patting your back gently before he went on through the book sections he had in mind. There were already a few good picks he remembered liking.

„Let's see what they have, hm, little kitty?”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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hauntedwitch04 · 5 months

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Hi 😊

Could I ask for a Castiel Novak x plus size reader smut, please??

Castiel seems like a cute puppy by the way he looks.

Reader is super insecure about her body but she wanted to do Sam and Dean a favor and went to a bar/club with them. Some skinny chicks come up to reader and bully her cause of her body, when Castiel arraived and protects reader. They are talking outside, go to the Motel and castiel praises her body from head to toe

A/n: Hiii! I'm so sorry to be this late, but uni is killing me and I had litterally wrote it between train stops :) I hope you like it and respect your idea, with love Becky

Angel

Castiel Novak x plus size!reader

Words: about 1.7k words

Warnings: a bitch (she is a vamire so literally a monster), hating about your look and just a super cute and fluffy Cas ;)

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist-Join the Taglist-Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

You knew that this choice of yours wouldn’t have brought you anything good, but no one could say no to Sam’s puppy eyes. You cursed the entire friendship with the Winchester brothers the moment you sat at the bar.

They had a new case, a vampire it seems, that seduced women at this bar where you are right now, brought them home and then killed them. And obviously the second they understood that they needed a decoy turned to the third resident of the bunker with soft eyes and a question on their lips. Now you are sitting on a very uncomfortable chair, in a little skimpy dress that leaves little to none to the imagination of who you have near. You always had a bad relationship with your body, and when you saw the dress that Dean bought for you to go on the hunt you just wanted to run away and hide in your room feeling the little confidence that you have dissipated. Castiel on the other hand, felt your discomfort and didn’t really understand why you felt like that and decided to ask you about this feeling. “Why do you feel this bad? Dean has a great taste in dress, with all the porn videos-” Said the angel looking at you, while you felt your cheeks become red with embarrassment.

“Yeah Cas we have understood.” Blocked him Sam, while he turned to look at you, with a concerned look. “Hey, by the way you don’t have to do this, you know it right? We can always find another way to hunt this vampire down.”

You tried to find the courage to say what you felt to them, but the feeling of letting them down was too bad so you put a fake smile on your face and just lied another time to them: “Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just, I don’t think that this color suits me, you know.” You responded, and within a second, with a snap of his finger, Cas changed the color of the dress to your favorite, while still looking at you with his eyes, of a light blue that the same sky was jealous of it.

“Thank you, so much better now.” You said, taking the dress from Dean's hands, and going to your room to change. After you arrived, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath, thinking of how you will find the courage.

You are lost in your thoughts when a man comes near you, and asks if you know where the bathroom is . You smile at him and give him the direction to find it. He smiles back at you, and thanks, before going where you told him. You return your attention back on the drink you have in your right hand, since you decided that there is no way you are doing all this shit sober. Dean and Sam are close by, just a few meters behind you, looking for signs of the monster you are hunting. You feel the phone buzzing near your hand, you look at it and you see a message from Sam.

<<Everything ok?>>

<<Yeah, he just wanted to know where is the bathroom.>> You texted back at him. You are about to ask him how long you have to stay, since you are starting to get really uncomfortable, when a hand takes place on your shoulder, and makes you turn in the direction of who is touching you. You see its owner is a young and pretty woman, with long blonde hair on her shoulder and a fake nose. You are concerned if you can even breath from how small the little dress is, her fake boobs look like they are gonna explode from the pressure.

“What do you think are doing?” She ask you, and you look at her, while you don’t really understand what she is talking about.

“Sorry, I think you are talking with the wrong person?” You say, trying to go back in the comfortable position you found moments before her arriving.

"No, bitch, I'm really talking to you. What do you think you're doing, hitting on my man? Well you are so wrong. Do you really think someone like you could ever be interested in anyone, I mean have you seen yourself in the mirror? The poor guy would certainly get crushed if he tried to sleep with you. And don't you think this dress is a bit too much for you, you certainly have a lot of nerve to put on something like this showing everything that is wrong with you.-" The girl is interrupted by you, who quickly grabs your things and runs out of the club. Dean seeing this abrupt escape calls you on the phone to find out if everything is all right, not having heard, but having seen that a woman, not very kind in her own words, had approached you in a threatening manner. You, as usual in these cases, lie to your friend saying that you merely couldn't stay inside the freaking club anymore and would be back inside in a few minutes, trying not to let him hear through your cell phone the urge you have to cry.

Once the call with Dean is over, alone, you finally burst into tears, releasing the tension you had been building up for the past few minutes.

You spend a decida of minutes sobbing in the farthest, darkest corner of the parking lot, hoping no one sees you, when you suddenly hear a rustling of wings.

Turning around, you see Castiel, looking worriedly at you as you try to wipe away the tears left on my cheeks.

"Dean and Sam found the vampire; she was the woman who attacked you. Her victims must have been girls she had seen at the bar, and taken in a rage of anger and jealousy, she killed them." He explains, not immediately asking why you were put that way.

"Great, I would say case closed. Come on it's time to go home." You say then walk to where the Impala is parked, but Castiel rests a hand on your arm and stops you.

"The guys sent me to see if I was okay."

"I'm perfectly fine. That woman did nothing to me while I was at the bar."

"Maybe physically, but I can feel that you are in pain. Can I help you in any way?" The angel asks, and you can't help but melt at his words. You've always had a slight crush on Castiel, ever since the first times he helped you and the brothers, unable to deny that he is a charming man, but since he's been spending more and more time with you the simple attraction has evolved into much deeper feelings. Feelings that you are afraid to externalize to the beautiful angel in front of you.

"Yes quiet Cas, everything is fine. Only you know what they say, the truth hurts." You comment as you give a fake smirk. Castiel looks at you confused as he bends his head slightly to the right.

"What do you mean the truth? What did that woman tell you?" The angel asks, suspecting that there is much more to it than you try to hide.

"Nothing, really, never mind." You repeat, but this time Castiel is not fooled by your matter-of-fact answer, and laying two fingers on your forehead, he sees the events that took place just before: the painful words of that girl and all the sadness you felt at hearing them.

When he pulls away from you, you couldn't tell if the angel is more angry or pained as he looks at you. Quickly and without warning, he wraps his arms around you, and you can almost imagine the feel of his wings wrapped around your body: soft and fragrant, like his clothes.

"Sorry, I know you shouldn't look inside other people's heads, however, you were lying to me and you are hurting, and I couldn't leave you to suffer, but I had to know why you were suffering so." He tries to explain, before holding you tighter in his arms, and moving his head from the crook of your neck so he can look you in the face. "Don't believe a word that woman said. You are the most perfect living being I have ever seen, and believe me I have seen many throughout history, but nothing I have ever known compares to you. If I didn't know what angels are, I would say that you are one, in fact if they asked me I would say that you are my angel." She confesses at the end in a whisper so light that you could swear you were imagining it, but confirming her words are her eyes looking at you with such adoration that you feel you could almost catch fire.

"Cas...I don't know what to say I-"

"Don't say anything then." He tells you, smiling. "For once try to take a compliment without saying anything in return." He continues, and you can't help but blush and lean your forehead against his chest to hide the blush that had appeared on your cheeks.

"In fact maybe you know there is one thing you could say." He says a few seconds later, as you stood in silence for a moment enjoying that moment of calm.

"What?" You ask curiously, as you raise your face to look into his eyes, not realizing that your lips are extremely close.

"You might say yes when I ask you in a little while if you would like to go out with me tomorrow night, to eat at that restaurant you like so much." He proposes, as he looks intensely at your lips and with difficulty pulls away from them to look into your eyes. You can't help but giggle.

"You really do spend too much time with Dean." You comment, shaking your head.

"Maybe, but at least it taught me how to tell the girl I love how I feel." He says, before leaving a kiss near the corner of your mouth and then untying himself from your embrace and walking toward the car, leaving you shocked standing still in the same spot for several minutes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Dean asks you, who without your noticing had arrived next to you. You simply nod. "Well then it's time to go unless you want to have a romantic date with the cop at the station." He comments, winking. You blink and realize that you really need to get moving.

After all, a date tomorrow you already have.

TAGLIST

@harleycao @supernatural-lvr @evansstan-akya

#castiel novak x reader #castiel x reader #castiel #supernatural x reader #supernatural fluff #becky's writing

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 15 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N with Warnings: Daddy Steve/ Sir Eddie and Plus Size Sub Fem reader, No Smut today but all the angst and fluff. Readers Ex makes an appearance and goes about as well as you would expect lol These three talk about their insecurities but the reader more so when it comes to them (feeling guilty about school and stuff like that), she also talks about her weight and how people see her (including her ex) in a negative light.

Please never forget, you are so beautiful. From top to bottom no matter what you look like you are gorgeous and I love you <3.

Word Count: 4766

“That’ll be $1.15.”, Steve grins as the two girls in front of him try to contain their laughter as they hand him their money and he returns their change. “Thank you, ladies, and have a nice day.” His smile immediately falls as they giggle and run off.

“Way to go, Popeye. You really know how to get the girls going.”, Robin mocks with a grin on the other side of her window in the backroom.

“To be fair, I’m not trying to. I just look fucking ridiculous in this…thing.”, he gestures at his uniform.

“Yup, company policy sucks but just remember you’re doing it for love.”, she grins as she pokes his nose. “Speaking of…” Robin points behind him and as he turns, meeting your beautiful face his whole demeanor changes.

“I’m taking my lunch.”, he announces, throwing the hat he was wearing behind her.

Coming around the counter, he promptly lifts you in his arms, squeezing you tightly to his chest.

“Whoa!”, you giggle. “Are you ok, babe?”

“Yes, I’m just ready to sit with you and take a break.”

You take his hand as you both walk to the food court in the mall the boys work in. “Eddie should be on his lunch in a few minutes. When I passed the record store, he was almost done putting the cassettes away.”

After grabbing your food, you both make small talk as you wait for the metalhead. Small talk for them is the usual check in for you. They’ll ask how your day was and if anything new happened in class. You always felt a little bad talking about school especially with Steve since he had genuinely tried to apply to places before getting rejected. But when they asked you something you were supposed to answer so you did with as minimal details as possible.

“It was extremely boring with the same old basics we did for four years already.”, you roll your eyes and he chuckles.

“Have you thought about a major yet?”

“I’m still not sure. I really like my English classes…I was thinking maybe I could teach or something.”

“Well, you were always good at teaching us.”

Suddenly, headphones are placed over your ears as Eddie threw his body into the chair next to yours and pressed play on the cassette player in his hand.

“Um…what is this?”

“Its garbage is what it is. My store keeps fucking playing it on repeat and it’s like a stab in the heart every time. I’m not a big fan of Bowie or Jagger but what the fuck?”

“’Hello Y/N and Steve. How are you today?’”, Steve taunts in his friend’s direction who scowls in response as he lightly pulls off the headphones from your head careful not to tug your hair.

“Hello Y/N. How are you today, princess?”

“I’m ok, baby. Thank you.” You grin as you lean over to kiss his lips.

***

Life since high school hadn’t been easy but being with them was the perfect type of Novocain. You could have the worst day in the world and be absolutely ok as soon as you landed in their arms. Sometimes when they slept, you would lay there and just trace Steve’s back with the pads of your fingers or caress Eddie’s cheek as you brushed his hair back. You never told them but you still had some insecurities when it came to them, the biggest one being “what are they doing with me?”.

It always made you feel guilty, hiding those things from them, but they had already been through so much. You didn’t want to add anymore burdens to their minds.

“What are you thinkin’ about, hon?”, Masie asked as you push the library cart forward so she can grab the next set of books to put on the shelf. The school library was hiring students when the two of you went job hunting and you were thankful for the opportunity. It didn’t pay much but it was on campus and you got to work with your best friend.

“The guys.”

“What about them? Trouble in paradise?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just…I’ve been keeping some things from them and I feel guilty.”

“Things like…”

“How much I actually enjoy a lot of my classes and my job with you. I’ve also been…insecure…lately.”

“Mhmm. I swear to God Y/N, if you tell me you think you’re ugly I will slap you.”

You both quietly laugh as you move forward. “No. I don’t know. To me they’re perfect, you know?”

“Yeah, they are definitely not perfect and very much pains in the ass but they’re YOUR pain in the ass.”

##########

Eddie sighed as he flipped through the magazine at the counter. With it being a Monday, most of the kids and shoppers were in their respective places so his record store was boringly quiet. The bell chimed as someone stepped in and casually headed for the front counter.

“Hey yeah, welcome to Hawkins Records. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“I have one actually.”

The metalhead glances over at the man in the military uniform standing before him. When his eyes finally land on his face, his anger boils over.

“Get the fuck out of my store.”

“Look, I just want to talk, man. Is Steve Harrington around to?”

“We don’t give a fuck what you have to say, Christian. Leave. Now.”

“Let me talk to you both. As soon as I say what I want, I promise I’ll disappear.”

Eddie glares as he heavily exhales and reaches for the phone to dial Scoops Ahoy.

***

Both men scowled at the boy sitting across from them in the food court. Thankfully, you had class around this time so you weren’t able to eat with them on Mondays.

“I imagine Y/Ns told you about me.”

“About how you hid her and humiliated her? Yeah, she did.”, Steve spat.

“I deserve that. I’m-I’m not proud of what I did. Those two years in the academy and then signing up for service… I’ve learned a lot and grown up. I want the chance to apologize.”

“Great. We’ll tell her you said sorry.”

“I’d like to do it in person.”

“No fucking way. We’re not letting you anywhere near her.”, Eddie growled.

“I know where she works. I could have talked to her already but I chose to come here first out of respect.”

“No, I think you came here first because if we found out you tried to talk to her we would beat your ass.”

“Really, Munson? Beat my ass? I’d love to see you try.” Eddie began to stand but Steve grabbed his sleeve, bringing him back down. “I am going to talk to her whether you like it or not. This is just a courtesy.”

“Haven’t you hurt her enough? Leave her alone.”

“Me, Harrington? The way I hear it, you two ruined her life way more than I ever could. Hell, you got her kicked out of her house and the entire student body calling her a whore.” Rising to his feet, Christian gathers his things, turning towards them again. “Ask her if she’d want to talk to me and see what she says. I’ll bet you anything she does.”

***

“Hey, guys. Did you have a good day?”, you beam at them from your spot at the table where you were doing your homework.

“Yeah, baby, we did.” Steve came over to give you a kiss as Eddie did the same, gently brushing your hair back.

“Are you alright, Sir? You look sad.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just missed you.” After kissing your forehead, he heads for the kitchen to grab a beer. “Should we tell her?”, he murmurs to his friend who’s leaning on the counter next to him.

“No. She doesn’t need that stress right now.”

“Or ever.”

“What are you two whispering about?”, you giggle.

“We were just trying to think of what we should get for dinner. I’ve been craving some Chinese food. What about you, honey?”

“That sounds good, Daddy. Do you guys want to watch a movie while we eat?”

“Sure.”, he grins.

Your head ticks to the side at the action. Something’s wrong with his smile. They both seem on edge but you can’t tell why. For the moment, you let it go, assuming whenever they are ready they will tell you what is on their mind.

##########

“Hey, space cadet!”, Robin raises her voice as she waves her hand in front of Steve’s face. “I asked you if you could go to the back and refill the chocolate for me. What’s up with you?”

“Y/N should be here by now. My break is in five and she always meets me here beforehand.”

“Maybe she got caught up with Munson or class ran long.”

After doing what she asked, he threw off his hat and headed to the food court, shocked when he found Eddie sitting by himself.

“She’s not with you?”

“Naw, dude. She usually walks down here with you.”

“Should we go to the campus and—”

You shuffled around Steve without saying a word and threw your body down into one of the chairs at the table in front of them.

“Where have you been? Are you alright?”, Eddie asks as he reached over to touch your face. You grimaced at the action and abruptly pulled yourself away. His eyes narrowed in your direction, trying to control his tone in this public setting. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

Your fury filled gaze shifted from him to Steve who had sat down across from his friend. This was completely new to them. They had seen you angry before but never this angry.

“Something you wanted to share with me, Eddie?”

It wasn’t uncommon for you to use their names while you three were at the mall. It was always usually crowded and they understood that anyone may catch you using their titles. But the way you said his name just then was like you felt he didn’t deserve the title he was given of being your Master.

“You need to control that tone with me, little girl.”

“No, then? What about you, Steve? Anything?”

The man’s jaw tightened as his palms clenched into fist. “He went to your work, didn’t he?”

“Very good. Yes, Christian, the man that broke my fucking heart suddenly appeared without warning at my job to say he wanted to talk to me. If that wasn’t startling enough, what really threw me was when he asked if you two talked to me yesterday about speaking with him. It’s funny because I don’t remember us having that fucking conversation. Do you?”

“We were trying to protect you.”, Steve mumbled.

“Liar.” His head turned furiously in your direction. “You weren’t trying to protect me. You were protecting yourselves. He’s the only other person I was serious with before you two. The only person I really fucking cared about.”

“Tread lightly, Y/N, because you are about to be in a lot of fucking trouble.”, Eddie warned.

“More than you already are.”, Steve followed. “Do you really think we’re that insecure? If you want to run back to that fucking dick, be our guest.”

“Tread lightly, Steven. Eddie played this game with Billy Hargrove and last I remembered you both hated it.”

“No, honey, you did. Don’t you fucking forget that we are the only people who took fucking care of you, protected you, and fucked you properly. Everything we do, we do for you.”

“You should have told me he was in town.”

“We had no reason to. You’re not fucking talking to him.”

You chuckled sarcastically as you rose to your feet, pausing when Eddie’s hand grabbed your wrist.

“We aren’t done here.”

Yanking your arm from his grasp, you scowl at him as you try to control your emotions. Yeah, you kept some things from them but nothing like this. It hurt you that they didn’t tell you about Christian. More than anything it killed you that they didn’t seem to trust you enough to make that choice on your own.

“Yes, we are.”

***

You showed up to Enzos early, fearing that history was going to repeat itself, but after finding the courage to walk in, there he was, sitting at a table in the back.

“Christian.”

“Hey, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“No.”, you cut him off before he could continue. “That’s not what this is. You said you wanted to talk to me so I’m here to hear what you have to say. This isn’t a date or anything like that.”

He nods, tilting his head as he watched you take a seat before doing so himself.

“I can respect that. I, uh, I was a real jackass back then. I know I hurt you.” You snicker at his last sentence as you reach for the glass of wine in front of you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have taken you out on more dates and showed you off. I shouldn’t have told Bobby Rushmore that you were just my friend. I…I shouldn’t have humiliated you that night…at the party.”

Christian’s hand reached across the table to try and grab your own but you immediately tugged it away.

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“At that party. What did you do? What did you say?”

The man leans back in his seat as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I said some mean shit about your weight.”

“Christian. What. Did. You. Say…”

He sighs in frustration as he shrugs. “Does it matter? I’m not like that anymore.”

“You said that she was obsessed with you and you did her a favor by dating you.” Eddie comes out of nowhere, spinning the empty chair at the table around and straddling it as he takes a seat.

“You also said that she was too gross and ugly for anyone to even want to date her.” Steve angrily threw himself down across from his friend.

Your eyes never left Christians as they spoke. “You don’t remember that do you?”

“Exactly? No but I guess you do.”

“You spineless bastard. Why did you really come back because it wasn’t for me. Not to apologize at least.” When his hazel eyes found yours, you knew. He didn’t need to say it. “Well, please. Enlighten me. What surprised you more? They fact that I wasn’t still sitting at home alone crying over you or that not only had I moved on but I was with two people?”

He smirked as he shook his head and rose to his feet as he began putting on his jacket. “Honestly? It wasn’t the fact that you were with two people but who you were with. Knowing that you lowered your standards so low to fuck the freak that even Steve the king Harrington was able to get a free ride… I thought I could have another turn. Maybe help lift that self-esteem.”

Steve’s fist flew before anyone else could do anything about it. You and Eddie stayed in your seats as the other boy lifted Christian by his collar and shoved his back onto the table.

“Apologize.”, he growled.

“Fuck you, Harrington!”

The restaurant went quiet as he punched him again. Grabbing your own jacket, you finally stood up and gripped his now bloody face in your hand.

“The only time I ever lowered my standards was when I dated you. It was good to see you, Christian.” When you let him go, you spit in his face before walking out the front door, not even caring if the boys were following you or not.

***

They both entered the apartment a little after you, Eddie slamming the door behind him. As you exited the bedroom, you waved Steve to the table as you set the first aid kit on top of it.

“You know, we are really going to have to get more antiseptic and gauze if you guys and my family are going to keep punching people for my honor.”

Your tone was calm as you began cleaning his hand and it was making Eddie angry.

“That’s all you have to say? After having an attitude today and then still having dinner with your ex.”

“I don’t know if you noticed but no one ate at that table.”, you sneered.

Steve’s jaw tightened at your tone. “Vanilla.”

You paused your movements, not looking up from his hand as he said the safe word. “Do you want me to let you go?”

“No, Y/N, you don’t have to. Eddie, come sit down.”

The metalhead cautiously took a seat across from you both as his friend sighed. “I wanted the three of us to have a civil discussion with the safety net of the word because I don’t know about Munson but I am extremely angry with you right now, honey. And… knowing how we are…I can’t guarantee I can keep my emotions in check if this led to us playing.”

After wrapping his hand, you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms as you glared at him. “You have no right to be angry.”

“Excuse me. We have every right. We told you not to go.”, Eddie scolded as he leaned his elbows onto the table.

“And I respect that but that’s not how OUR dynamic works. The three of us talk about things before we do them! This choice was mine to make but if he had come to me first, I would have told him I had to talk to you two.” You chuckled lightly under your breath. “Actually, I’m lying. I still would have told you he came by but there would be no need to have a discussion. I wouldn’t have gone. I had a feeling that was his motive as soon as I saw him.”

“Why did you go tonight?”

“Because you pissed me off.”, you sigh. “It…it hurt when I found out you didn’t tell me. I wanted to hurt you to.”

“Why do you think we thought you’d want to fuck him?”, Eddie growled out his question, hating even the thought.

You pointed to Steve before moving to the metalhead. “Everyone has a motive and everyone is going to leave.” They both roll their eyes as you shrug.

“Wait a minute… if you thought that we would ever think that that means you’ve thought about it to.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”

“Y/N, we swear on our lives that it didn’t even cross our minds that you would take that asshole back and leave us. Honestly, we know if you ever left us it would be because you thought you were helping us.”

“Like a few months ago, Miss IM-A-Burden.”, Eddie follows as his eyes scan you over. “Sweetheart, are you afraid we’re going to leave you?”

“No.” You tried to say it as confidently as possible but it came out more like a little kid trying to hide something. “Not exactly.”

“What is it exactly?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you turn away from Steve, your eyeline promptly running into Eddie’s.

“Wow. Really, Y/N?”, he sighs. “After every fucking thing we’ve been through.”

The other boy’s eyes shift between you both. “How do you do that? How do you read her mind?”

“It’s not so much mind reading as it is knowing her history…and feeling the same way.” Your eyebrows furrow together in his direction as he nods. “Oh yeah. You seriously think I fell in love with the most beautiful girl in Hawkins and DON’T wonder what the fuck she’s doing with me?”

“I’m not the most beautiful but thank you.”

Steve’s fingers abruptly grip your cheeks as he forces you to look at him. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again. You hear me?” After a couple of seconds, he realizes how he’s holding you and lets you go. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Daddy.”, you whisper.

“It’s not just your looks, sweetheart. I mean from head to toe, yeah, you’re fucking gorgeous but you’re also so smart. I like when you eat lunch with us and tell us about class. I kind of wish you opened up about it more. Sometimes I worry you’re struggling because you aren’t as animated as you used to be.” You grin as he mimics your expressive hands when you speak.

“I don’t want to make you guys feel bad. I know you tried so hard to get into school especially Steve.”

“Baby, no. I love seeing you get excited about that kind of stuff. Don’t ever feel like you can’t tell us things. Y/N, you can talk about anything.”

“Do…do you ever think that? Wonder why I’m with you?”

Steve leans back in his chair as he exhales. “Kind of. It’s not so much why you’re with me but why you even gave me a chance after everything. When we first started our thing, I thought it was just sex. Not like…that…you know like…you just liked having sex with us…” You smiled as you watched him stumble over his explanation. “Then at night, I’ll wake up and feel you running your fingers along my back, reminding me of that first night we fell asleep together. I think ‘if she did it then to maybe she did have feelings for me. Why?’”

“A vicious cycle.”, you giggle and he smiles.

“Why do you do that? And come to think of it why do you trace his back but touch my face?”

“Jesus. I seriously thought you guys were asleep when I did that.” You hide your head in your hands as you blush before facing them again. “You don’t lay on your tummy as much as he does! I don’t know. I think as long as I can touch some part of you both, it helps ground me and reminds me that this isn’t a dream. That you both are really here with me. That’s when those insecurities push through.”

Your eyes scan Steve over as he heavily exhales and you continue. “It wasn’t just sex. Honestly, I didn’t know what it was but, you guys always said you found me fascinating…that’s nothing compared to how I felt about you two. Mr. King of the popular kids and resident bad boy of Hawkins…every day I learned something new about you two that just surprised me but what shocked me most was the softness.”

“Softness? Like we weren’t assholes 24/7?”, Eddie chuckled.

“Kind of.”, you grin. “After that first night, you gave me your shirt and then fixed mine. Baby, you literally took the time to sew the buttons back on. Steve for most of junior year always seemed so tightly wound. At his party that night when he fell asleep, I moved some of your hair out of the way and your face immediately calmed so I crawled in to hold you. That next morning after we…you laid your head on my stomach and Eddie held my hand and I just…I felt safe. I never felt that with Christian.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you he was here.”

“You were right, sweetheart. We should have said something. We really were just trying to protect you.”

You smile at them both as you shrug. “It’s ok. I’m going to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Y/N, baby, can you please eat something before you do?”

“Yes, Sir.”, you whisper exhaustedly as you head for the counter to grab some fruit before pausing. “I’m sorry. I assumed Vanilla was lifted. I should have asked.”

“Do you want it lifted? Not saying like we’re going to run there and tie you down or anything.”, the metalhead grins trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, of course. I’m ok.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Do you want us to sleep out here tonight?”

“God no. It feels weird sleeping without you two next to me now but I, um, I understand if you want to though.”, you give them one final smile as you head for the bedroom.

As you stand in front of the mirror, you can’t help but stare at your reflection. You were being honest when you said you had figured out Christian’s intentions as soon as you saw him but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. Now that everything with the guys was sorted out, you were now able to fully feel your feelings when it came to him.

When Eddie and Steve touched or looked at you, you knew they never saw a plus sized girl. They only ever saw you which is one of the many things you loved about them. It never made sense to you, however, how some people like them could see a strong, beautiful woman and other people like Christian or Steve’s dad saw a pathetic, disgusting, desperate girl.

Looking away, you headed for the closet and grabbed one of Eddie’s shirts before climbing into bed. As you laid down, you glared at the wall on the other side of the room, replaying those months you had been with your ex. How unhappy you had been contrasted to how you felt since you’d been with the boys.

The bed dipped on both sides of you as the metalhead threw off his top and placed himself in front of you on his back, tugging you to his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, placing soft kisses along your shoulders. With the hand that you had on Eddie’s chest, you extended your finger and traced his tattoos the same way you did with the other man’s back.

He pleasantly sighed at the feeling, moving his own palm out of the way so you could reach more of his stomach. His head turned slightly allowing him to place his lips on your forehead.

“I walked the ward for you, babe A thousand miles for you Now who dried my tears of pain, babe? A million times for you, for you.”

You smile as he wraps his arm around your neck, tugging you closer to his face as his lips scrunch and he continues to sing.

“I'd sell my soul for you, babe What's money to burn for you, for you I'd give you all, and have none, babe Justa, justa have you here by me Because…”

Giggling, you lightly fight against his hold not wanting him to really let you go. Steve raises the arm that’s not under your pillow into the air as both boys sing in unison.

“In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more!”

“You both are so dumb.”, you grin as you roll onto your back and Eddie turns to face you.

“I hear that in the store and it makes me think of you. To be fair though, everything makes me think of you.”

“Same especially since I don’t get to listen to music or anything like that so I literally spend my afternoons waiting for you.”

“I think about you both to but especially you, Daddy.” You turn towards Eddie and pretend to be talking only to him but loud enough so Steve can hear. “Do you think you could be serious when we play if he was wearing his work uniform?”

“Hm…is he wearing the hat?”

“Oh of course.”

“I think I could do it.”

“Yeah, ok, keep making your jokes but you can’t say you don’t find it sexy.” Steve wiggles his shoulders as he runs his fingers down his chest sexily making you giggle.

“Maybe next time? If you guys aren’t too exhausted.”

“Never too tired for you, princess.” Eddie leans over to kiss your cheek as Steve wraps his arm around you again.

“Wait a minute. I just realized none of us have eaten. The fuck are we doing in bed like an old couple?”

“I ate!” The metalhead reaches behind him and flashes the one bite of the apple you brought in with you. “That’s technically eating.”

He raises his eyebrows in playful warning as Steve jumps out of bed. “I’m assuming Enzos is out but we have some frozen pizza.”

“Can we eat in here? I’m still tired.”

Eddie smooths your hair as kisses your temple. “Oh, they are doing a B movie marathon tonight. You know how much Harrington loves those monster movies.”

“I can hear you!”, Steve hollers as he comes back into the room. “But I don’t mind those black and white ones. They’re so stupid.”

You softly smile as you watch them talk to each other so happy that they are yours.

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

@needylilgal022 @local-stoner-bitch @katethetank

@danandphilequalsmemes @strangerfreak @sidthedollface2

@mandyjo8719 @bexreadstoomuch @chelebelletx @ima1986

@perdopascalslilbaby @shayeddie @emmalee-01

@anaibis @wroteclassicaly

@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @siriuslysmoking @raptorbait529

@miarosso @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot

@mrsjellymunson

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year

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don't leave me here {e.m}

prompt: you're bleeding out and eddie has to save you.

character: eddie munson x plus size female reader

part of my e.m 'pretty eyes' series

Blood. There was so much blood.

Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you, "Jesus! Fucking hell! What the fuck?!" The panicked string of curses left his mouth quick and furious.

He stared down at your gasping, convulsing body in absolute horror. Eddie Munson wasn't one of these 'hero' guys. He wasn't like Steve Harrington or Nancy Wheeler or- or fucking Superman, okay? He was a runner. He ran and he hid from shit like this. He wasn't brave. He was a fraud; scared, weak. Eddie Munson thought that he was nothing at all.

Things changed when he saw you like that.

"What do I do? What the fuck do I do?!"

You weren't really focusing on what he was saying, all you could really do was stare up at him as your mouth tried to form words. His eyes connected with yours; fear meeting fear and when he saw how scared you were, lying there, bleeding out onto cold cement, he swallowed and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments.

When he opened his eyes again, the fear was gone and instead was replaced with calm.

"This is gonna hurt... and I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and pressed down on the wound that was on your side. You couldn't speak but my god, you could scream; loud and piercing. Eddie rambled apologies over the sound of you, wincing as he listened to you. No one else was here. It was just you and Eddie in the Upside Down with a whole lot of monsters. Eddie needed to stop the bleeding long enough to get you back into the normal world and get you to the hospital.

He could feel his heart beating fast and furious in his chest. It almost hurt him. He was terrified but he knew that you were even more scared than he was so he knew that he had to focus and just do it; do something. No running, not today.

The blood seeped from between his fingers, he needed something to stop the bleeding. Thinking quick, he grabbed the two handkerchiefs that he kept in his pockets, bundled them together, and pressed them hard against your side.

"You still with me?" He asked, anxiously glancing to your face.

Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were holding onto his wrist in a white knuckled grip, "E-Eds- I'm not gonna-"

"Shut up." He glowered at you, "I'm not having that conversation, it's strictly not an option. I'm going to get the bleeding to stop a bit and then I'm gonna take you back through the gate and we'll get you to the hospital. You'll be fine. You'll be fine. It'll be fine."

His hands trembled and his whole body was caked in a cold sweat as the blood continued to pour. Why wasn't it stopping? Why wasn't it slowing down?

He cursed under his breath and dropped everything to stand up. With fumbling hands, he pulled off his belt. He'd watched Nancy do this to Harrington, minus the belt but with her t-shirt, she'd tied it really tight around his wound and it helped add extra pressure. He had to try, right? He told you it would hurt and boy, did it hurt. The searing hot pain made your head spin and made your vision blur and you almost felt yourself succumbing to the sleepiness that crept into the corners of your mind, dulling things and making things fuzzy around the edges.

It was Eddie's voice, hoarse and cracking, "Please don't leave me. Don't you dare fucking leave me in this stupid town myself." Hearing that, hearing how upset and vulnerable he sounded made you open your eyes for the briefest of moments.

"I gotta get you outta here," Eddie murmured, "Back through the gate and hopefully Harrington will be on the other side close by and we can get you in a car and straight to the hospital."

You shook your head, inhaling deeply, "Y-You can't get me through the gate. I-I'm too heavy to ca-carry."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're bleeding out and you're worried about your weight?" A moment of humour in an otherwise traumatic situation.

It was stupid and you weren't thinking rationally but you never liked people lifting you, you'd always hated it since a boy in your sixth grade class called you heavy. Since then, no one had lifted you. Despite knowing that Eddie could probably hold your weight, you would rather die in the Upside Down than have him unable to lift you or call you heavy.

"Hey," Eddie said, bloody hands on your cheeks, "I can lift you. I'll get you outta here, I promise... You gotta trust me." His eyes scanned your face, "You trust me?"

You nodded slowly, "Yeah. I trust you."

"I dunno if it'll hurt or not but my trailer's just over there, it won't be long... just hold on tight." You hadn't noticed his hands under your knees and neck until he was hoisting you into the air. The pain was there but duller, lesser. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Your eyes were heavy, tired. Eddie could tell as he ran through the upside down with you in his arms that things weren't looking good. Despite the belt applying as much pressure as possible, you were still bleeding, blood seeping into his t-shirt and jean jacket, staining and soaking wherever it touched.

Eddie glanced down at you, "Open your eyes, (y/n). Open those pretty eyes!" The sound of the nickname woke you for the slightest of seconds and then you tumbled backwards into the darkness.

At the sight of your eyes rolling and body limp, Eddie cursed and used his foot to kick open the trailer door; stupid thing swung open easily.

Eddie began to screech for Harrington, for Nancy, for anyone. His friends should've been back by now. Eddie closed his eyes as he stared up through the gate to see no one staring down at him. They weren't back yet. This couldn't be it; this wasn't going to be the end. He lay you down on the mattress on the floor and grabbed a chair to stand on when all of a sudden he heard, "Jesus, what happened? Is she okay?!"

Steve and Nancy stared down horrified at the sight of you lying unconscious, "Help me get her outta here, Harrington, or she's not gonna make it."

Getting you up and out of the Upside Down was easier than Eddie had expected since he had the help of Nancy and Steve. Together, they managed to get you through the gate and Steve helped carry you to his car.

Eddie's heart hadn't stopped racing, his hands trembling and sweating as the engine roared whilst Steve drove. Nancy looked to the backseat where you lay with Eddie crouched over you, hand in yours. He kept yelling over the sound of the engine to drive faster. "We're friends with the Chief of Police hurry the fuck up Harrington!" So, Steve put his foot down.

He doesn't stop talking to you, doesn't stop muttering and murmuring to you. He doesn't know what the hell he's saying to you but he read once that talking to someone is a good way to keep them awake - he didn't know how true that was but he'd try anything.

"Open your pretty eyes for me, (y/n)."

"You hear me? You hear my voice?"

"I'm terrified... Fuck, I'm so scared."

"Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

"I love you. I fucking love you."

The hospital loomed ahead and Steve put his foot down, cutting the red light. Nancy gripped onto her seat. Steve's turns grew harsh and fast and the three of them were nearly launched when he slammed on the breaks, car coming to a squealing stop.

"Help me get her out." Eddie said to Steve.

The car lay abandoned as Steve and Eddie carried you into the hospital. Nancy ran ahead, calling for help loudly and grabbing a stretcher which sat beside reception empty. The next few moments passed in a blur. You were bundled onto the stretcher, Eddie holding your hand, and a few doctors surrounded and huddled trying to figure out what was best to do.

"We need to take her now, sir," one of the doctor's said to Eddie, "you need to let go of her hand."

Eddie wanted to protest, wanted to fight and demand to stay with you but it was Harrington's hands on his shoulders that tugged him away from you and then, the three of them were all alone in reception and you were wheeled away.

Eddie hadn't known true fear until today. Seeing you bleeding and injured and now, stuck in limbo wondering and praying that you'd be okay. It was up to the doctor's now. It was their job to save you. Eddie wasn't religious but in those few tense hours of waiting, he prayed to every god, every saint, every public figure he could think of to pray that you'd be okay and that you'd pull through. Nancy and Steve stayed the whole time, keeping him occupied with small talk and fuelled by coffee.

"Eddie, stop pacing. Come and sit down," Nancy said, patting the seat beside her, "Just try to relax-"

"I can't," he shook his head, curls flying, "I can't rest until I know that she's okay."

"Are you here for (y/n)?" A voice asked from beside them.

Eddie whirled around, nodding wildly, "Yes, is she okay? Is she- Is she...?"

"Who wrapped the belt around her waist to stop the bleeding?" The doctor asked.

Eddie frowned, "It was me." His face dropped, "Did I do something wrong? Oh my god, did I hurt her more?"

The doctor shook his head, patting Eddie's shoulder, "Really nice touch with the belt, kid, that probably saved her life," the doctor said, "she'll be okay."

Eddie wasn't a crier, he couldn't remember the last time he properly broke down and just cried... until now. It was a mixture of relief, happiness, stress and god knows what else but he just broke down. You were okay; you would be okay. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, he had thought it was the doctor offering sympathy, but was rather surprised to see Harrington, "Thank you," he said to the doctor, allowing him to leave. Once the doctor was gone, Steve patted his back, "(y/n)'s okay, you saved her, Munson. You did it."

Eddie couldn't speak. The tears kept flowing and as he sat down, Steve's hand stayed on his shoulder and Nancy's hand found Eddie's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You were going to be okay; everything was going to be okay.

#one shot #eddie munson #pretty eyes series #pretty eyes #plus size series #plus size reader #imagine #reader insert #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #prompt

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nicksalchemy1 · 6 months

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Mientras Respiro, Espero Series Masterlist

“Mientras Respiro, Espero”: Spanish for “while I breathe, I wait.”

Pairing: Firefighter AU Dean Winchester x Nurse!Plus-Size!Mexican!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, a firefighter with a reputation for casual flings, finds himself longing for something more meaningful in his life. Meanwhile, you, a stubborn surgical intern, are trying to escape your past in California. When Dean loses a bet and is tasked with cleaning the trucks, your paths cross unexpectedly. Little do both of you know meeting each other would cause some problems.

THIS IS MY FIRST AU! Nine SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam, Mary, and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Cassie Robinson, Benny Lafitte, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, Charlie Bradbury, and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**15+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, tense situations, emotional baggage, a slow-burn romance, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and playing house. Rating for language, VERY sensitive topics, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

A/N: Hello, lovelies!! I hope all of you enjoy reading this, it’s a cute little series and it hits a little close to home. Please take into consideration that this is my first ever series and won’t be perfect. Inspiration credits to @zepskies series “Smoke Eater.” 🚒🧯😊

To get to know the characters and have some context, here’s the introduction.

Part 1: Who’s Aftaid of Little Old Me?

Part 2: There She Goes (Again)

Part 3: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Part 4: I Know It’s Over

Part 5: It’s Never Over

Part 6: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Part 7: Try And Love Again

Part 8: If You Could Read My Mind

Part 9: Just Like A Woman

Part 10: Paper Rings

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mrs-padalecki2341 · 8 months

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Trench Coat (Cas x plus size!reader)

Warnings/Promises: Smut, insecure reader, plus size reader, Cas being the sweetest creature ever to exist in the universe, a bit of fluff, we will be pretending that Cas can actually sleep, I think that's it but lmk if I missed something.

~~~

You hated your body. Around others, you pretended you were comletely comfortable with it, but as soon as you were alone, the act dropped and you would spend hours crying and pinching your belly between your fingers, wishing you could cut it all off with scissors.

You had just gotten back to the bunker after a brutal fight with a pair of witches. While Sam was stitching up a gash on Dean's leg from the fight, you decided to take advantage of the empty shower. Before you got undressed and ready for your shower, you looked over to the mirror to inspect the cut on your face you recieved earlier, courtesy of one of the witches.

Instead, you ended up staring at your body, your cheeks wet with tears. Cas, sencing that you were upset, immediately flew to the bunker. He walked right past the boys without a word, confusing them both, and straight to the bathroom.

Knock, knock.

u67t

"Y/n? Y/n, are you okay in there?" His deep voice was thick with concern and worry.

"Go away, Cas," you replied through sobs.

"No, Y/n, I'm not leaving until I know you're okay. Let me in." After waiting for a moment and hearing no response, nor the click of the bathroom's lock being turned, he improvised and kicked the door in.

"What the hell was that?" You heard Sam call from another room.

"Y/n wouldn't let me in to help her, so I kicked the door open," Cas called back, before coming into the bathroom and closing the door back. He found you curled up in a ball on the floor, still crying, and immedeitely rushed to your side. "Y/n, what happened?"

"I'm a fucking hippo, Cas." You managed to say between sniffles.

"You're not a hippo, Y/n, you're a human," He replied, in a confused tone, not understanding what you meant.

"It's an expression, Cas. It means I'm fat."

"Oh." He paused for a moment, processing what you meant, "Well, you're not fat either."

"Yes I am, don't lie to me. I'm fat and ugly and unloveable."

He pulled you into his lap and started rubbing your back, "I think you're beautiful, Y/n. I love you, and I love you just like you are." He poked your bare stomach, breasts and each of your thighs, then lifted your chin up, making you look at him, "I mean it."

You, couldn't help but smile. Cas was so sweet. And he was yours. You pulled his face down to meet your's in a kiss. "Mm~ I love you too, Cas," You murmered against his lips.

"Are you trying to get me to have sex with you?" He asked. You always thought it was cute how clueless he could be sometimes.

"Yes, Cas." You say with a giggle and a playful eyeroll. After a week with Dean as his teacher, Cas was a practicaly sex god, (*throat clear* Ironic) which you greatly thanked Dean for with 7 different pies, and new rims for Baby.

Cas stood up and reached his hand out to you, helping you up out of the floor. You give him another kiss once you are both standing, then drag him down the hall and into your room by the wrist, closing the door behind you. Not only did Dean teach Cas how to have sex, but get him fucking addicted to it. Once he tested out his newly learned skills and found out just how pleasurable it was for the both of you, there was no going back. That being said, the second that the door was closed, you were pinned against the wall by your angel, violently making out with him.

It didn't take long before your clothes were in a heap on the floor getting wrinkled, and you were in a heap on the bed getting fucked senseless. Cas had you on your back at the foot of the bed, while he stood in front of you and pounded into your dripping pussy, holding onto your hips for leverage. You both moaned and groaned as you felt your highs approching. Cas's thrusts started to become more sloppy and untimed, getting closer to his end.

"Fuck, Cas~ I'm- Mmm~ So close..."

"Mm~ Me too, baby~" He started thrusting harder and faster, pushing you both over the edge. You finished first, cumming hard around his cock and squeezing him with your walls, which triggered his finsh.

"God, Y/n~ Fuck- Mmmmn~ " He let out a loud groan as he released inside of you, before slowing down his thrusts, helping you both ride out your highs. Once you had both somewhat returned to reality, he flopped down on the bed beside you with a tired grin.

"Holy shit that was amazing. What would I do without you?" You said, letting out a content sigh. You layed there and cuddled with him till he fell asleep and reached down to the floor, snatching his trench coat up onto the bed with you. Then you covered yourself up with it, using it for a blanket, even though there were several actual blankets on the bed, and cuddled back up against your angel as you slowly drifted to sleep.

SP<3

#supernatural #spnfandom #spn #spn fandom #spn posting #castiel #spn memes #cas #cas spn #cas supernatural #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #Castiel x female reader #spn smut #supernatural fandom #supernatural smut

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 year

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The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical?

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.” You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you.

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there.

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets. “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?”

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together.

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?”

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.”

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted.

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones.

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so.

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.”

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it.

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it.

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on. This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You)

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life.

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again; “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words.

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.”

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down.

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something.

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones.

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit.

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay.

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror.

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over.

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating.

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about.

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly.

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look.

“I know. It’s our lucky day.”

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up.

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up.

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets.

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way.

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything.

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned.

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you.

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music.

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents.

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse.

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter.

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen.

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat.

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through.

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?”

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing?

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay.

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself.

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror.

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on.

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed.

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.”

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you.

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket.

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry.

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns.

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo? As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.” You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together.

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout.

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him. You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea.

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be.

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it.

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background.

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet.

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair.

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor.

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him.

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.”

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh.

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously.

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small.

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull.

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell.

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp.

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly.

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside.

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off.

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you.

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs.

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit. Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life.

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s. He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before.

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again.

“Feel good?”

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again.

“Fuck,” he responds.

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead.

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance.

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist.

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor.

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you.

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again.

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars.

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths.

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps.

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly.

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy.

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing.

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love.

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.”

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein.

#marauders #marauder x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #smut #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #plus size!reader #fem!reader #reader insert #david bowie #ria250 #fanfiction

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year

Text

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 8

Chapter 7 Chapter 9

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. Non-inclusive language. Cursing, Angst, mentions of violence, Hurt/Comfort, some fluff. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you have a major crush on Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. Sam is released from the hospital, but you go with him to visit Steve. You have an uncomfortable talk.

Word Count: 3,120k

Masterlist

A/N: This is a little more or less a wrap up of CA: Winter Soldier. There had to be a clear break and it's wordy, but these two had to clear the air. Also, sorry babes! I'm going on vacation next week and would have liked to whip something up and save it to the drafts but no go, home life is too hectic. Plus, breaks are important! So, no new chapter next week. I tried not to leave it on a cliffhanger. You can however use this to tell me your theories! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts!

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean

Over the next two days or so, Sam explained some of what was going on. The hospital released him with his assurances that he’d take it easy. You were there for that conversation so he couldn’t finagle his way into your pants. The disappointed look on his face had you ugly snorting when the doctor was out of the room.

Your heart ached listening to him recount how Steve and Nat had stepped into something huge involving Hydra and he volunteered his services. No, you were definitely not happy to hear that. He told you about kidnapping a man but it was to make him tell the truth. How he was ambushed on the freeway by a freak with a metal arm.

You thought he had to be lying about the man ripping the steering wheel out of the car. But nope. What you saw on the news were those Hydra agents taking him to be killed. You asked him not to spare any details and you almost wished you hadn’t. You had been so close to losing him, many times over.

Agent Maria Hill helped him, Steve, and Nastasha escape and he met some man named Nick Fury. That’s when they had the genius idea to have five people go up against an entire spy organization. It was frankly a wonder how they were still breathing. Sam got most of his injuries from the man you saw on TV, Rumlow, and Sam jumped out of a window.

You smacked him at that point. He chuckled and leaned away from you but you were walking down the narrow hospital hallway towards Steve’s room and he couldn’t get far. “A window, Sam?”

He shrugged. He shrugged! Like it was no big deal. “The building was collapsing. Would you rather I stayed and get pancaked?”

“That’s not funny, Sam,” you said.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It was the only thing I could do,” he said.

For the past week, you had been visiting Steve in his hospital room. Sam played Marvin Gaye for him while you curled in the corner to read. You found that you didn’t want Sam to go anywhere without you. It was silly. Oftentimes, you felt like you were intruding. But Sam never ordered you away. He stayed away from the Steve stuff. You suspected that he wanted to ask permission or something.

In a short period of time, Sam had a real admiration and respect for Steve. It was obvious in the way that he insisted on coming back, hoping that today would be the day that Steve woke up.

You caught Sam looking at Steve sometimes. Like he looked up to an older brother or like a well-respected mentor. Which was insane. They had to roughly be around the same age right?

You mentally did the math. You weren’t very good at math. Point was, there was a bond there. You guessed being shot at, fighting alongside with, and battling for a common cause lended itself to a deep, quick bond. You supposed it was as close to having his wingman back as Sam was going to get.

So you’d keep your teasing down…at least a little.

Sam read quietly and you looked at the healing cuts on his face. You looked at how content he looked sitting and reading. Listening to Marvin Gaye like an old man. You’d have to ask the story there eventually.

“On your left,” a small, tired voice said.

It took you a minute to look up and see Sam smiling at Steve. He looked at you and his smile got bigger, puffing out his high cheekbones. You got up and crossed the room.

“Saving New York wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You asked.

Steve smiled softly. He was still having trouble keeping his eyes open. He finally managed and looked at you.

“Well, you know. Can’t seem to stop finding trouble,” he said.

You slid your hands around Sam’s shoulder. Steve caught the action and you stood your ground, refusing to feel like you were talking to your parents. So embarrassing.

“Thank you, for looking out for him,” you said.

Sam looked at you but your eyes were on Steve. You weren’t quite brave enough to explain how much Sam meant to you or the secret boiling anger you felt. Steve should have known better. Sam was a grown man and you had a bone to pick with him too. However, Steve understood the score. He knew who he was up against. He knew that going up against Hydra was a big deal. A huge deal.

And from the battle that you saw on TV, they nearly lost. Sam still hadn’t shared everything. You wondered if you were even entitled to know everything. As long as Sam would have you, you’d be here. And that made him part of your circle. Part of those under your care that you would protect against Death itself. Protect against Steve if needed be.

You hoped all of that flashed through your face. Steve seemed like the smart type. He sighed and rested his head back against his pillow. His face was cut up ten ways from Sunday. But he blinked those true blue eyes at you and subtly nodded.

Sam was lost and nudged you to tell him what he missed. You smiled at him and kissed his forehead. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Coffee?”

Sam still looked at you but it was clear you weren’t going to talk about it yet. It was too new. You hadn’t explained the whole protective bear thing you did and you weren’t sure how to do it. One thing you liked about Sam was his total honesty. The least you could do was be totally honest back. No matter how ugly.

You left the room and left them to talk. You took the long way down to the machine to get coffee. You passed by a small waiting room where there were a few family members sitting and shuffling amongst themselves. A TV played in the background.

It was a replay of Natasha’s speech to Capitol Hill. She was so badass. She was one of the coolest people you’d ever met. She faced down aliens, Hydra, and the orange idiots down in government with a smirk on her face like she knew things. Like…knew things.

Her file got leaked to the world like everyone else’s. You weren’t sure if you wanted to spend time going through any of it. It was no secret to you that organizations and the US government were shady. But to White America, it was the second coming of Jesus. They just couldn’t believe it.

You stood and watched as Natasha told Capitol Hill to kiss her ass. Then she walked out as if she were walking away after an explosion. You grabbed the steaming cups of mysterious brown liquid and headed back to the room.

Sam was laughing at something and Steve groaned, trying not to laugh as well. He clutched his stomach and groaned faintly. You handed Sam his cup and he took a sip without complaint.

You were undecided but you braved it anyway. Hell, you paid for it.

“We’ll let you get some rest, man,” Sam said.

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said. Steve looked at you and you seemed to be sizing each other up again. You were both protective of Sam and he had no clue. “Take care of this one, Sam.”

“I plan on it,” Sam said. He stood up and slid his arm around you. You soaked up his warmth and hugged him a bit too hard.

You smiled at Steve and nodded your head. He nodded his back.

Together, you and Sam left with Sam promising to return to see how Steve was doing. Steve nodded sleepily and went back to sleep. You left the room and headed down to the car, silent the whole way.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Sam asked. He opened the car door for you and you got inside. Nervousness bubbled in your stomach. But you wanted the foundation of your relationship to be built on honesty.

You waited for Sam to climb in on his side and start up the car. This conversation needed to be in private, where you can see his face and gauge his reactions. “Let’s grab some food and head to your place. We have a lot to talk about it seems.”

Sam smiled softly and nodded. You talked about nonsense while he drove. You talked about what you and Ariel got into in his absence. How the people he counseled never stopped believing in him and his innocence. He was touched and you caught the smile on his face knowing that.

You grabbed food and soon you were at his place. The knots in your stomach were worse. You barely swallowed the drink in your hand as you walked into his apartment. You got settled at his dining room table while Sam piddled a little bit. You got the sense that he was stalling a bit. His shoulders were hunched and he kept finding little things to clean up.

“Sam, come here,” you said.

Sam chuckled and sat beside you at his dining room table. You both opened the wrappers on your food but sat looking at each other. He was the more experienced one when it came to professionally talking but hard conversations were hard no matter what.

“I really like you. And it’s uncanny because I barely like people. No one has patience anymore. They want to know absolutely everything right this second. And people treat introverts like there’s something wrong with them to begin with. But you never have. You’ve always been patient and kind and sweet. You…put me at ease.”

Sam smiled and reached out to take your hand. You gripped his hand and marveled at the strength of him. Those hands were capable of tremendous pleasure and protection. But who defended him?

“You’ve heard about my hectic home life. It’s rare to feel…safe I guess is the word. You make me feel safe. And that makes me want to keep you safe. I will overstep. I will argue until I’m blue in the face that you need to look out for yourself. I will drive you crazy doing anything in my power to make sure you’re okay. You’re mine to protect now.”

Sam looked down at your combined hands. “There’s nothing you can do that will make me not want to be with you. I will take your arguments, your nagging, your protectiveness. I’ll take anything you give me,” he said. He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it. His soft lips pressed gently against your hand. He lowered it back to the table but didn’t stop holding it.

“You’re mine to protect, mine to defend, and mine to hold.”

You smiled. Those butterflies in your stomach took flight and warmth replaced it. Sam had no idea the amount of peace he brought you. There was no guessing with him. It was easy and breezy.

You always thought that you wouldn’t find the type of love your parents found. Before your mom got sick, they were the standard that you set all relationships by. If a man looked at you funny, you dropped him and moved on. You refused to accept anything less. Looking back, you could see why your exes were vitriolic. They hated your high standards. They called you a delusional bitch. They called you bossy.

At the time, you thought they were trippin’. Why was it that Black women were expected to accept the bare fuckin’ minimum? No one told other women to accept mistreatment, lack of help, and lack of support. Black women had to be surrogate mothers, sisters, best friends, doctors, maids, and therapists to their significant others and then berated when they couldn’t accomplish it all. Or dogged out, cheated on, and disrespected when asking for help.

You could accept your part in those failed relationships. You never gave anyone a chance to be who you needed or wanted. You thought it was your divine comeuppance when your mom got sick and your prospects dried up like a shriveled prune. It was why you kept Sam at arm’s length. He needed someone without so much baggage.

Looking at him now, looking at the way he looked at you, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else like that. Possessiveness swept through you without mercy. He was yours. The Devil himself would have to drag you kicking and screaming from Sam.

“You say that now…” You said, hoping to inject some playfulness in all this serious talk. “But that also means I get a little excited when I’m protecting what’s mine. I didn’t have to say the words to Steve, but he knows now that you’re mine and I’m going to protect you. Even from him. He should have known better than to let you get involved in this. This was a suicide mission, Sam.”

“I asked to be involved in this,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter. He should’ve told you no,” you said.

Sam smiled. “I would’ve helped anyway. I…needed to help him. Does that make sense?”

You sipped some of your drink and shook your head. No, you didn’t understand that at all.

“The military trained me to be a soldier. To be useful. To give one hundred percent of myself to defending this country against threats. When my tour was over and I opted out…there was no way to adjust to civilian life. When you’re over there, you’re fighting for your life every second. You sleep with one eye open, you watch where you step, you keep your finger close to your trigger. You have to trust that the man behind you is watching your back. The military kicks you out with no tools to stop seeing danger everywhere.

“And I learned to adjust but it doesn’t leave you. When Steve and Nat showed up, it was a way to feel useful again. To fight against an enemy to protect this country. Hell, the whole world. Hydra is a parasite and they were willing to wipe out millions of people if I didn’t help. There’s no way I could have sat that out.”

You looked away from the raw honesty and contentment on his face. He’d do it again if he had that chance. You knew it down to your bones. But there was no turning away from that fact. To accept Sam was to accept this part of him as well. He was not going to stand by while injustice occurred. That was like asking the sun not to be hot.

You nodded slowly. You still didn’t like it. You downright hated it. But you could accept it. For Sam, you’d accept just about anything.

“Promise me that you’ll stay safe. I don’t care if it’s a lie.”

Sam smiled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. He placed his against yours and took a few deep breaths. Then he pulled back far enough to look at you. “I promise that I will always come home to you. It’s not a lie. You keep me going. You’re the one I thought about while I was up there. You kept me alive.”

Dammit, Sam. He was breaking your heart and rebuilding it piece by piece. You kissed him, throwing all of your relief and frustration into the feel of your lips against his.

“You better come home. Otherwise I’ll face Hydra myself and bring you home,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d hate to see you go up against Hydra. They’d run screaming off of rooftops,” he said.

“Damn, right,” you said.

With that settled, you dug into your food. Sam told you that he got permission from Steve to tell you the rest. To tell you what the news didn’t know. He swore you to secrecy. He made it clear that you couldn’t tell anyone. Absolutely no one. You agreed, knowing that you’d now have this entire life separate from your family. You were in the know. You and Sam were building something between you that nearly no other couple could comprehend.

He told you about the tragedy of James Barnes. It cleaved you into two pieces. There were some things Sam was missing. Some history between Steve and James that Steve hadn’t mentioned. But he was basically brainwashed into attacking them by Hydra soldiers. He was a veritable boogeyman of the spy world. And he was Steve’s best friend.

“The lunatic with the metal arm who ripped the steering wheel out of the car?”

Sam nodded. “It wasn’t right what was done to him. He should’ve died an old man by now. It wasn’t his fault, what happened.”

You blew out a breath while you absently chewed your food. “Damn.” What exactly did someone say to that? The whole time Sam spoke, you couldn’t believe your ears. Brainwashing, mystical Nazi cults, spies, lions, and tigers, oh my!

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened to him. He’s in the wind,” Sam said.

“Still brainwashed? Like…is that safe?”

Sam shrugged and chewed his own food. “I don’t know. Play it by ear, I’m assuming.”

You nodded and wrapped up eating your food. When you were both done, you helped Sam clear the table and throw away the wrappers. Before Sam got any bright ideas in his head, you ordered him to get comfy on the couch.

You draped a blanket over the both of you and snuggled into him. You mindlessly watched TV, laughed, and joked and pretended that he hadn’t just dropped a load of secrets at your feet.

You were nervous. Beyond nervous. You were afraid that even though he made that promise, he may not be able to keep it. You were acting like your mom again. Your faith in his capabilities is what helped you survive this whole ordeal. It would have to be strong enough to be okay with not knowing everything. Not knowing the outcome.

Sam snored softly next to you. You glanced at him. He was so adorable while he slept. His face was relaxed but with a hint of a smile because that was who Sam was. Mischievous, playful, and so damn brave. You snapped a quick picture of him. Then a funny one with the both of you while you stuck out your tongue to show him later. He really was an old man at heart.

You laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Soon, the soft cadence of his snores and the peace he radiated lulled you into a blissful sleep.

Masterlist | Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x plus size reader #Sam Wilson x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson marvel #Sam Wilson imagine #Sam Wilson falcon #Sam Wilson Captain America #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fanfiction #Sam Wilson fan fiction

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