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thebiggerbear · 5 months

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Jason Teague x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

Pairing: Jason Teague x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I wanted to dabble in the darker side of Jason's arc in the show and the mention of the stones, Lana, and his mom. There's such a clear line cut of when he turns from being a character that has your sympathies who is striving hard for some redemption we don't yet understand into being revealed as a calculating murderer who has severe mommy issues (I say that with love of course). The original ending was going to be much darker but I'll admit, once I got to it, I just couldn't do it. To Jason or Y/N. So I apologize if this has the feeling of crawling up to the dark edge to peek over it but then a backing off. Hope it's still okay, though.

A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of gun, implied violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of injuries, mentions of possible murder scenarios, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 4761

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jason Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Jason unlocked the motel room door and urged you in first as he glanced around, making sure no one else was around. Once you were in, he flipped the light on and moved towards the windows to draw the curtains closed. You remained where he left you, frozen in shock, and dripping on the cheap and questionable-looking carpet.

Both of you were soaked through. You’d gotten caught in the storm when Jason had freed you from captivity, hence beginning the run for your life. Thunder cracked above, causing the motel to shake, and you jumped slightly. You’d been hearing thunder for the last half hour, running in the downpour as lightning ripped through the skies overhead once Jason dumped the car he’d been driving. It was too risky to keep especially since he’d likely stolen it just for this mission alone, thus he’d simply grabbed a bag out of the trunk, tossed it over his shoulder, took your hand, and threw the keys out into the surrounding grass. Ever since, you’d been on the run, Jason leading you to the next town over. When you were both exhausted, Jason had decided on this motel, paid cash for a room, and now you were here. Alone. At any second, you could be taken away again since a certain someone wanted you out of the way and you had a figurative price on your head. Something told you that if you were taken again, this time it would be ensured that you wouldn’t actually survive it. They didn’t want to keep you tied to a chair or temporarily removed from the board — it was clear that they wanted you gone completely.

You watched Jason move around to further secure the place and, the shock wearing off, you slowly brought yourself to sit down on the edge of one of the beds, not caring that you were probably soaking through the bedspread. You stared into space as flashes of memories began to assault you. You hadn’t been physically tortured, but the things you were told, the things you’d been shown…well, all of that, you’d rather forget.

You heard a click that made your eyes snap up in Jason’s direction, seeing him checking his gun. That was something new, Jason not only being armed but also apparently being an expert marksman, something he’d proven when coldly and efficiently dispatching your guards. You highly doubted that either of them would ever walk properly again, and it was just one of the many new things you’d learned about your boyfriend these past three days; never in a million years would you have ever thought him capable of wielding a gun. You’d been dating him for six months and it turned out you never really knew him — the real him. Sure, you knew his name was Jason Teague, but you didn’t know just what kinds of things actually came with that name. And to think, you thought the Luthors were soulless, dysfunctional, greedy monsters.

You stared ahead at the dresser. In a small voice, you stated, “I should call Clark, let him know I’m safe. The Kents can call my parents and let them know I’m okay. Or I can call Lana…if you want.”

Jason stopped what he was doing and his gaze landed on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench and his lips press together. Truthfully, you were surprised he had even bothered rescuing you since it turned out you weren’t the only Smallville native he had been dating. How he managed to pull that one off you couldn’t be sure. Then again, he had managed to keep this side of himself under wraps up until three days ago when all the while, you’d never been the wiser. You were in love and happy, only seeing what he wanted you to see — how could he not be successful at keeping the fact that he was seeing one of your best friends hidden from you, too?

“You can’t,” Jason answered, his tone icy. “It’s too risky right now.”

You managed a slow nod, your eyes never lifting from the dresser. You’d expected as much and honestly, you didn’t want to drag your parents, the Kents, Clark, or anyone else into this mess. You refused to put them in danger; you’d die first, something that was likely going to happen soon anyway. It was probably better for them not to know the truth about what was going to happen to you. Lana… Well, Lana was already caught up in this whether she knew it or not. You just hoped she had a better chance than you did and that she got out of this. And you really hoped that if she found out the truth about Jason (and you really wanted her to) that she would be stronger than you to get past the pain of his betrayal and get as far away from him as she could. He was a walking death sentence and even though she had unknowingly participated in your heartbreak, you didn’t want that for her at all.

Jason crouched down in front of you but you refused to meet his eyes, instead looking down at your lap. “Let’s see those cuts.” You were numb when he pulled your hands to him and studied the indentations and burns the ropes had made on your wrists. He glanced up at you but you kept your gaze on your injuries. “They’re not as bad as I thought they’d be but they should still be cleaned.” He reached over to his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. You watched in confusion as he proceeded to clean your wounds and then bandage them with great care. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think the old Jason, the Jason who’d come into the coffee shop you worked at every summer day to flirt with you until you agreed to a date, was starting to show through. But you did know better, and you knew that he was a far better actor than you’d ever given him credit for.

When he was done, he tenderly rubbed a thumb over one of the bandages. “There,” he murmured. This time, when he lifted his eyes to yours, you didn’t avoid his gaze. You tried to see the man you once knew who had actually held you as you cried when your divorced parents’ bickering and dramatics ruined your 18th birthday dinner; you had already been nervous-yet-excited beforehand because you were announcing that you and Jason were going to travel to Europe for two weeks. You’d always wanted to go, but it seemed to be only a dream — one that was out of your reach until Jason surprised you with two tickets to London as a birthday gift. The trip ended up being canceled later anyway because Jason suddenly had to fly to Paris on an urgent business matter for his mother, something that she was going to pay him for. He needed the money since his father had cut him off and he was starting at CKU in the fall. You’d offered to go with him, but he said he wouldn’t have any time for sightseeing, promising he’d call you often and bring you back some French souvenirs, swearing he’d pick out the best spots for you two to return to at a later date. He’d kissed you goodbye and gave you that brilliant smile of his, waving as he moved further into the airport. He ended up staying in Paris for weeks and when he came back, he seemed distant and a little busier, but you chalked it up to him starting classes and his new job right away. Now, obviously, you knew that that wasn’t the case, but as you stared into his jade-colored eyes, you didn’t see a trace of the Jason you’d met before that trip to Paris. He had never really existed, had he?

The real Jason, the one you’d come to know now, cupped your chin and studied your face from all angles. “We’ve been so busy running that I haven’t really had a chance to look you over. Did they hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to yours. “What does that—”

You got to your feet, the action knocking his hand away, and you moved towards the table he’d left the gun on. You stopped right before it and stared down at the weapon, almost as if it was mocking you by being there.

“Y/N.” You heard the familiar soft call of your voice and you briefly closed your eyes. If only you had never met him… Gentle hands landed on your shoulders and turned you around to face him, seeing the cold aloofness from before had all but vanished. “I need you to tell me. What did they—”

You decided you were done holding back. You’d been through hell the past few days, you were exhausted and depleted of any energy or motivation for anything else, and who knew how long you had? “You never really loved me, did you?”

His eyes widened. “What? Of course I love you, Y/N. I’m here, aren’t I? I went and got you out of there. I—”

“I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for you.”

Jason’s face fell, appearing as if you’d slapped him, and then his expression hardened. “What did my mother say to you?”

Your gaze remained on him. “She told me everything.” You watched as that realization played over his features and his jaw tightened. “So, yeah, I know about the stones, you and Lana…” His eyes appeared to be slightly glassy (or maybe it was the lighting from the lamp behind you) as he cocked his head a little, looking at you, yet he didn’t even try to deny it. How could he? It was nothing but the truth, and worse, his mother had been the one to tell you that truth; how was that for irony? “When you canceled our trip, when you didn’t want me to go to Paris with you, how distracted you were when you came back, how busy you were — it really explains everything, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened slightly and he briefly hung his head. “I was just too stupid to see it.”

His head snapped up. “No,” he insisted, laying a hand on your cheek. “You weren’t stupid. I was. I should have let you go the moment I met Lana in Paris.”

Even though you thought your heart couldn’t break any more than it already had these past three days, it turned out you were wrong. Your eyes began to sting as tears built up in the corners. While you already knew of his two-timing, you didn’t think he’d come right out and just say it, and in such a blase manner to boot. And how easily you would have been tossed aside, as if you’d meant nothing…that hurt.

A hurt that mirrored your own flickered across his face as he gently cupped yours. “But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” You choked out.

“Because you mean the world to me,” he murmured, placing his forehead against yours. “Because you’re what I want and I was too selfish to give you up.” He ran his nose along yours just like he used to and you involuntarily shivered. “I love you, Y/N. Always have.” His eyes dropped to your lips and when he leaned in, you pulled away and stepped closer to the table.

“No, you don’t. If you did, you never would have put me in danger or let me become mixed up in all of this while you pursued one of my best friends behind my back. You would have just left me alone in that coffee shop,” you gritted out, a tear slipping down your cheek that you quickly wiped away. “What was the point of it all, Jason? Was I just some distraction for you that you could drop at a moment’s notice when your mother called? And Lana,” You scoffed and wiped away another tear. “It would be one thing if you actually loved her, but you’re just using her to get the stones. You’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me. You used both of us! And for what? Some ancient stones that your mother believes are supposed to give her some sort of power? So that you make Mommy Dearest happy and can go back into the unhealthy Teague fold? What’s the motivation here?”

He swallowed compulsively as you laid bare his transgressions, yet his eyes never left your face. “I never used you.”

You huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

His jaw tensed but he stayed silent.

You slowly nodded and after a moment, your eyes trailed to the gun on the table between you. “So when do you use that on me? When your mother tells you to, or when you’re finally done with me?”

You heard a tiny choked sound and you glanced up to find Jason staring at you in horror. He rushed over to you, causing you to stiffen, and he gripped your face as he searched your eyes. “I would never hurt you!” Too late on that count. He watched as another tear rolled down your cheek and his expression softened. “Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” he entreated softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “You were never supposed to know about any of this. I kept you at a distance when I came back because I didn’t want you becoming mixed up in this. My mother, she promised she’d leave you alone if I just…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to see this side of me. Ever. My plan was just to get her what she wanted, this last thing, and then I’d be free to come back here, be with you, and start over, live my life, but…” He shook his head. “I guess that’s all a moot point now, isn’t it?” A tiny smile played upon his lips, devoid of any mirth, as he let you go and turned his back to you, running a hand down his face.

You glanced once more at the gun, wondering if you should try to grab it but you weren’t sure if you were fast enough. And if you did get the gun, what then? Would you really be able to use it against him, to pull the trigger?

“If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you.” Your gaze snapped up to Jason’s back. “Just promise me you’ll take it with you.” You briefly flicked your eyes to the gun once more. “It’s fully loaded. And there’s plenty of cash in the bag. Take it all with you, run as far as you can until you can get safe, stay off the grid, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from going after you. I’ll distract her with the stones, lie and say I killed you so she’s satisfied, whatever it takes.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Run? You didn’t know how to run or stay off the grid. Maybe you’d seen something like it in a movie once, but that was fiction, not reality. Did he really think Genevieve Teague would believe his lie about you? Granted, he was good at lying as you now knew but he wouldn’t be able to fool her. Unless she was right in what she had told you, that you never really mattered to Jason in the first place, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to believe that you’d be so easily disposed of without a second thought by her son. “And how long is that supposed to buy me, Jason?”

“There’s enough money in there for you to start over, to get a new life. You could go anywhere in the world you want. Canada, Cape Town, Tokyo, England.” At that, your eyes burned once more but you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“And my parents?” You bit out. “My life? Graduating high school at the very least?”

“You making it out of this alive is more important than any of that.” Jason let out a sad sigh. “It’s my fault you’re in this now, that you’re in danger, but I promise I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” He turned his head slightly back towards you. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I always wanted to come back and have things be like the way they used to be. I miss those days more than you know,” he ended in a whisper.

“You can’t go back,” you whispered back.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly and he nodded. “I know.” His tone sounded defeated. “And that’s why you should go. But before you do, I need you to know one thing.”

You waited for him to say whatever he was planning on saying.

“You were never a distraction. That trip to Europe we were planning, those nights under the stars, everything we talked about, us…that was the real deal.”

Your lip wobbled and you bit down into it, trying to keep the tears at bay as a memory resurfaced of you and Jason lying on the hood of his car under the clear night sky. He showed you where all of the constellations were (initially, you only knew where the Big and Little Dippers were), and you’d both spoken about each of your dreams for your lives. After you’d excitedly pointed out a shooting star, he’d told you to close your eyes and make a wish. You did and that was when he kissed you for the first time. He’d breathlessly asked you about your wish afterwards and you’d smiled right at him, saying it came true. He’d given you that bright smile of his in return and leaned in to kiss you again, murmuring, “Mine too.”

Another memory shook loose of a night you’d stayed with him. He had been staying at a local B&B over the summer before his trip to Paris. When you two began to get serious, you’d taken to spending more time with him there, even sneaking out a time or two to stay the night unbeknownst to your parents. Nothing ever happened between you during that time but he would hold you and you both would laugh and talk and just enjoy being together. One such night, you’d fallen asleep but you had a nightmare. Someone was chasing you and you were running for your life. You ran into Jason telling him that you both needed to run, but he didn’t seem to understand the danger you both were in. He seemed distracted and looking elsewhere, not at you or where you were pointing. It wasn’t long until this unidentifiable assailant caught up to you and at the last second, Jason stepped in front of you, telling you to run right before he was killed in front of you. You’d woken with a loud gasp, your scream caught in your throat, and shot right up in bed.

Jason had immediately awoken and was trying to calm you down, to get you to breathe as he tenderly rubbed your back, and he kept telling you it was just a nightmare. You didn’t tell him what the dream entailed but you’d thrown your arms around his neck and held him close as he attempted to comfort you. Eventually, he’d laid you both back down, his hand gently running through your hair as you kept your head on his chest, your ear positioned perfectly over his beating heart to reassure yourself.

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he had hummed against your forehead. “I’m right here and you’re okay.” Hearing his soothing words and heartbeat, feeling the tender caresses of his hand up and down your back, you did start to drift back off, hoping against hope the nightmare didn’t continue. You weren’t sure how you’d endure a world without Jason in it, even just a dream world. Just before you’d fallen back into slumber, you’d heard him murmur sleepily to you, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You’d smiled and whispered that you loved him which caused him to smile as well and whisper the sentiment back to you. And he had — kept you safe, that is.

And now here you were, considering taking the gun and running for your life like you had in that nightmare, though this time was real and you would now also be running from his mother, from him. How had things gone so terribly wrong in only a few months’ time?

Another tear slipped down your cheek but this time, you didn’t wipe it away. “It was for me, too,” you admitted in a whisper.

Jason slowly turned back to you and you could see a recent tear track on his own cheek. “This was never supposed to happen,” he said softly. He drifted towards you and perhaps you were so caught up in memories that you didn’t back away or even tense up. Instead, when he laid a hand against your cheek, you leaned into it. Despite everything he’d said and done, despite how much he hurt you and your life had become a casualty due to his choices in his mother’s obsessive quest for a particular set of artifacts, your heart still yearned for him. When he moved even closer, leaning in to kiss you, you welcomed it. When more memories began to wash over you, of everything you had lost and would lose, you threw your arms around him and kissed him more passionately, tears rolling down your cheeks. Gone were the plans of you attending CKU with him; gone were the plans of you two moving in together, spending the holidays with your family, and traveling abroad to see all of the places you both wanted to see; gone was the future Jason had talked about wanting to have with you eventually down the road — all of it was just gone in a single moment of Genevieve Teague revealing who her son really was and just how much control she had over him. You supposed you hadn’t really had time to properly mourn the end of those dreams, of your relationship, everything you believed it had been — it only made sense to kiss it goodbye. Literally.

When you both broke apart for air, he laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Truthfully, your words surprised even you. He lifted his head and looked down at you, his brows furrowing and his face lining with a mix of suspicion and confusion. Still, his green gaze lit with a dim gleam of hope.

“You don’t have to be this person anymore. You can give it all up and walk away. You said yourself that there’s more than enough money in that bag to start over somewhere new.” He went to say something when you framed his face with your hands, gazing up at him as earnestly as you could. “So do it. Make a different choice.”

He stared into your eyes. “Y/N,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I—”

His cell phone began to ring on the table, near the gun. You both turned to glance at it before turning back to each other. You silently pleaded with him to do as you’d suggested. He had made it sound so easy, that you could walk out that door and start all over — if it was that easy, why couldn’t he do the same? Your heart sank when he gently removed your hands from his face and began to move towards the table.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat and though your eyes burned with new tears, they didn’t fall. He watched you as he approached the ringing phone and picked it up in his hand. You felt numb as you took a step forward and picked up the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make a different choice, and it was clear that you were also screwed and needed to run like he’d told you. If his mother was calling him, then that meant she already knew he had helped you escape and she could be on her way right this second, or worse, right outside the door. You picked up the gun and you hated how it felt in your hands. It was heavy, sure, but also light enough that you could easily lift it and fit your finger inside the trigger handle at a moment’s notice. You’d never shot a gun before so you probably wouldn’t hit whatever or whoever you targeted, but at least you’d be able to wield it to an extent.

The next thing you knew, Jason hurled the ringing phone at the wall, making you jump as it loudly cracked into two pieces.

You turned wide eyes on him but he quickly approached you, his jaw clenched. For a moment, you wondered if you’d actually have to try to use the weapon in your hand to try to defend yourself, though you didn’t know if you had it in you to hurt him. Sure, you’d fight to survive, but your traitorous heart still loved him. Luckily, you were spared from having to make that decision when he snatched it out of your hand (which did make you a bit nervous at first) and cupped your face, his green eyes staring into yours, that slight hope from earlier now a blazing inferno mixed with determination. “A different choice,” he whispered, almost as if he was sounding out the words for the first time. After a moment, he gave you a slow nod, put the gun away, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. “Let’s do it.”

“Really? You’re sure?” You breathed, your heart starting to lighten inside your chest.

A tender smile stretched across his face and he kissed you again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kissed you one more time and took your hand, leading you to the door.

You stopped in your tracks, though, when a thought hit you. “My parents…”

“Let me get us out of here and we’ll decide what to do about letting them know you’re okay without tipping off my mother.”

You nodded, still beyond surprised that he had actually listened to you considering how tightly his mother seemed to have control over him. “Jason, are you really sure? Won’t your mother be even more upset if you leave and don’t help her with the stones? And what about Lana? I don’t want her to get—”

He laid a gentle finger on your lips and kissed your nose. “Like I said, let me get us out of here first. We’ll handle everything else after. Okay?” At your nod, he smiled again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you could go anywhere in the world today, where would you go?”

You nearly smiled at the familiar question — it was similar to the one he’d once asked you, beaming right before he’d pulled out the two tickets to London from behind his back, making your eyes widen and you practically squeal with glee before launching yourself at him and pressing kisses all over his face, making him laugh. You could see his eyes soften slightly as you realized he was reliving the same memory.

This time, you gave it some thought before answering, “Iceland.”

“Iceland?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

You nodded. “It’s supposed to be beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures and I’ve always wanted to go. Plus, it never gets fully dark there.”

He tenderly stroked your chin with his thumb. “And we could see the Northern lights when it does,” he murmured.

“We’d never be fully in the dark, there’d always be light.” You pressed your lips together and stared up at him meaningfully. “I like the sound of that.”

He ran his hand gently over your hair and his affectionate smile grew as he nodded. “Then Iceland it is.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

#jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague x y/n #smallville fanfiction #jason teague #smallville #prompt response #smallville fandom #jason teague fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

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bullet-prooflove · 9 days

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Under Pressue: Cyrus Lupo x Reader

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @words-and-seeds @infinity-mars @tkappi @greenies-green @trublu2u @kmc1989

Cyrus prides himself on keeping his calm under pressure. It’s what got him through some dicey situations during his time abroad in the Intelligence Unit, chasing down terrorists. He had no weapon, no partner, no back up, he’d had to rely on his wits and clear head to ensure he made it home alive.

“I was self-destructive,” he had told you when you were discussing it over dinner last week. “I was trying to find redemption by putting myself in the most dangerous situations I could just to see if I survived, it became a game…”

It’s the most honest he’s been about his time away. The two of you have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks this time around but already it feels like a lifetime. He wonders if it’s fate, the two of you always ending up in each other’s spheres. It’s happened a couple of times over the years, the first time you got together, and then running into each other the night before he left for Morocco. This time you had been working his brother’s case when he got boots on the ground and now the two of you work together in the same division, usually with different partners.

The trip up to Dargerville is the exception, Benard had been injured when a perp had gotten a little unruly in holding and Lenny was vacationing up in Florida with a couple of old fishing buddies. You’d been assigned to make drive instead, which Cyrus doesn’t mind. You used to take roadtrips the first time you were together, staying at B&Bs around the country, he’d enjoyed it immensely. You bring the snacks and he brings the music, that was always the deal.

The thing is Cyrus loves small towns, he always has. He loves the vibe and the quaintness, he spends two hours in the local dinner eating chilli and tasting a variation of the pies they have on offer.

“You miss a homecooked meal.” You inform him as the two of you share a slice or key lime.

You aren’t wrong, his shifts have been chaotic over the past few weeks. He’s been living off takeaways and the hotdog stand outside the precinct.

“Let me cook for you when we get back.” You say and his gaze flickers up to meet yours, his cheeks colour just a little because he knows where the offer usually leads.

A good meal, a couple of glasses of wine, hours tangled up in your sheets making love to you until the sun comes up.

“Yea?” He asks, his eyebrows raising as he shoots you that sinful smile. You throw your napkin at him in response.

Despite the fact the NYPD has booked you two separate rooms in the local motel, you know you won’t be sleeping alone tonight.

It’s when a Dargerville sheriff tries to put his hands on you that everything goes to hell. The moment you pick up Linz with the material witness warrant it all goes sideways. When the local sheriffs blockade the car you’re out of the passenger seat before Cyrus can stop you. He’d been getting a bad feeling about this case since the moment you started to meet resistance at the stationhouse. There’s something going on here that the local PD don’t want you know.

You’re polite and calm, but there’s a steeliness in your voice, one that clearly rubs Burkheart up the wrong way. He’s not used to be spoken to like that by a woman, Cyrus can tell from the rage that burns in his eyes when you get between him and your prisoner. He bolts out of the driver’s seat because he gets that feeling, the one he used to get abroad when shit was about to go down.

When Burkhart he issues the order to remove you, it’s with extreme prejudice. It’s a show of authority, one meant to put you back in your place but the thing about you…

You don’t respond well to someone laying hands on you and apparently neither does he. When the deputy grabs you with force that’s completely unwarranted, something just shorts out in his brain. He gets between the two of you, his palm on the other man’s chest shoving him backwards as he comes to stand in front of you.

When the guns come out, he doesn’t expect it and he can tell you don’t either. Whatever is happening in this town, it goes far beyond the death of William Simmons. There isn’t a doubt in his mind about what happens if he doesn’t comply to their demands.

It ends up with him being arrested for interfering with a police officer. When you start to protest, he catches your eye before shaking his head. He can taste the violence in the air, he can tell from the way that Burkhart looks at you that he’s waiting for just the right opportunity to throttle you.

You’re already on the phone to Van Buren as he’s put into the back of a squad car.

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#law and order #cyrus lupo #cyrus lupo x reader #cyrus lupo x you #lupo #lupo x reader #lupo x you #jeremy sisto

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layce2015 · 11 months

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Houses Of The Holy

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

Gloria was seated, quietly, on her bed in a psych ward. Her hair is straight and her face clean. She was wearing a bathrobe and reading a book held in her left hand. The door opens behind her and she turns. "Good morning. You're not the usual people." She said as (y/n) and Sam, in white scrubs and holding a clipboard.

"No, uh, just filling in. So how you feeling today, Gloria?" (Y/n) asked and Gloria smiles. "I've never felt better." She replied. "So, no disturbances lately?" Sam asked her. "You mean am I stark raving cuckoo for cocoa puffs?" Gloria asked. "We didn't' say that." (Y/n) said. "It's all right. I know what people must think." Gloria said.

"What do you think?" (Y/n) asked her. "I think what I saw was real." She replied and (y/n) and Sam look around, pull up a chair for each of them and set the clipboard down. They lean forward, elbows on knees, and give her an intensely earnest look. "We'd like to know what you saw." Sam said.

"It was all over the news. I stabbed a man in the heart." Gloria said. "Why would you do that?" (Y/n) asked her, curiously. "Because it was God's will." Gloria replied, smiling, and the two give her a curious look.

"Did God talk to you?" Sam asked Gloria. "No. I get the sense God's a little busy for house calls. No, he, he sent someone." She said. "Someone?" (Y/n) said, questioning. "An angel. It came to me in this beautiful white light, and it filled me with this feeling. It's, it's hard to describe." Gloria said.

"And this angel..." Sam said, curiously. "Spoke God's Word." Gloria replied. "And the Word was to kill someone?" (Y/n) asked. "I know, it sounds strange. But what I did was very important. I helped him smite an evil man. I was chosen. For redemption." said Gloria.

"This man you stabbed, did the angel give you his name?" Sam asked her. "No, he just told me to wait for the sign. And the very next day I saw it, right beside the man's doorway. And I knew." Gloria replied. "Why him?" (Y/n) asked. "I just know what the angel told me: that this man was guilty to his deepest foundations. And that was good enough for me." Gloria said and (y/n) and Sam give her a worried look.

*(y/n)'s POV*

Sam and I enter the hotel room to see Dean lying on the motel bed, which is vibrating, as he listens to music on his phone. He looks sort of blissful and also doesn't notice us. "Hey." Sam said but Dean doesn't respond. I rolled my eyes then I go up to him and smack his boot. "Hey!" Sam and I said, loudly, and Dean looks up at us.

"Hey. Man, you guys gotta try this. I mean there really is magic in the Magic Fingers." Dean said as he puts airquotes on the last two words. "Dean, you're enjoying that way too much. It's kind of making me uncomfortable." Sam said and I nod in agreement. "Yeah, same here." I said.

"What am I supposed to do? I mean, you guys have got me on lockdown here, I'm bored out of my skull." Dean groans. "Hey, you were the bank robber on the eleven o'clock news, not me. We can't risk you just walking into a government facility." I said to him, reminding him of the news broadcast that happened back at the bank, and he just hums at me.

Sam waves a dismissing hand at Dean as he turns to go into the bathroom. The bed shutters to stillness. "Aw, dammit! That was my last quarter." Dean growls then he turns to me. "Hey! You got any quarters?" He asked me as he pulls his headphones out and gets up. "No." I said then he goes across the room and leans against the doorway as Sam washes his face.

"You got any quarters?" Dean asked him. "No!" Sam shouts and Dean sighs. "So did you get in to see that crazy hooker?" He asked us. "Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And we're not so sure she's crazy." I said to him.

"But she seriously believes that she was...touched by an angel?" Dean asked. "Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace." Sam replied. "Oh yeah, you're right, sounds completely sane." Dean jokes.

"What about the dude she stabbed?" He asked us. "Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil." I replied. "Was he?" Dean asked. "Don't know. I mean we couldn't find any dirt on him." I said. "He didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer." Sam added.

"Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?" Dean asked. "No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?" I said to him. "Well, little odd yes, supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so." Dean said.

"Why not?" Sam asked him. "'Cuz there's no such thing, Sam." Dean said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted." I said to him. "Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass." Dean said and I snorted with laughter.

"Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?" Sam asked, deadpanned, as he sits down. "That's cute." Dean said before he continues. "I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under bullcrap."

"And you've got angels on the bullcrap list." Sam said to him. "Yep." Dean replied. "Why?" Sam asked and Dean looks up in annoyance. "Because I've never seen one." He said.

"So what?" Sam asked. "So I believe in what I can see." Dean replied. "Dean! The three of us have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about." Sam pointed out. "He's got a point." I said to Dean. "Exactly. With our own eyes. That's hard proof, okay? But in all this time I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed that we would have crossed paths with them? Or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? No. This is a...a demon or a spirit. You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms." Dean said.

"Maybe." Sam said and Dean rolls his eyes. "Can we just — I'm going stir-crazy man. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?" Dean asked, desperately. "We were just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF..." I said. "You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?" Dean asked me, sarcastically. "I think so, but I'm pretty sure it was from a pillow." I said with sarcasm and Sam sighs.

"But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway." Sam said, ignoring our comments. "Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out." Dean said, eagerly.

Dean drives as we pull up in front of Carl Gully's house. It is a moderate single-family home with steps leading up to the front door; to the left of the door is a plastic angel figure. Dean mounts the steps and sees it. "Oh hey, Sam. I think I found it." Dean said as he gestures to the angel. "It's a sign from up above." He teases and Sam rolls his eyes as Dean and I peer into the window.

"Well, I think I learned a valuable lesson: Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's, or you might get filleted by a hooker from God. Ha." Dean said and i gucr a weak chuckle. "I'm laughing on the inside." Sam said as he wanders around back, through a gate, and Dean and I follow.

There we find a wooden storm cellar. "You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations." I said to them. "You think she literally meant the foundation?" Dean asked and we go to open the door and go down the steps, shining flashlights.

"Hey." Sam said and Dean and I go over to him as he looks at the wall. "You got something?" I asked him and he digs at the wall and pulls something out. "What is it?" Dean asked as Sam holds up the thing. "It's a fingernail." He said and we look at each other.

Dean pulls three shovels from the wall and we begin to dig. Sometime later, we created a deep pit which had a pile of skeletons inside of it. "So much for the innocent churchgoing librarian." I remarked. "Yeah, well, whatever spoke to Gloria about this knew what it was talking about, I'll give you that." Dean said.

The next day, Sam and I enter the motel room as Dean sighs and looks back sadly at the Magic Fingers controller. "D'you bring quarters?" Dean asked, desperately, Sam and I frown at the controller.

"Dude! We're not enabling your sick habit." Sam said as I toss Dean a sandwich. "You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies." I said to him.

"What are you talking about? I eat. And I got news." Dean said. "So do we." Sam said. "All right, you go first." Dean said. "Three students have disappeared off the college campus in the last year. All of them were last seen at the library." Sam said.

"Where Carl Gully worked." Dean said.

"Yep." Sam and I said.

"Sick bastard." Dean growls.

"So Gloria's angel —" Sam started to say until Dean looks up at him. "Angel?" He said. "Okay. Whatever this thing is..." Sam said. "Okay, well, whatever it is, it's struck again." Dean said.

"What?" I asked. "I was listening to the police radio before you guys got here. There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart." Dean said. "And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?" Sam asked. "Yep. Roma Downey made him do it." Dean said and he crosses the room to take a Post-it note off the mirror. "Now, I, uh...got the victim's address." He said.

The boys and I climb over the fence into the yard and sneak in through the window. Sam sits down at the computer as Dean and I search the house. "Find anything?" Sam asked us as Dean and I come back into the room. "Well, Frank liked his catalog shopping, but that's about all I we got." I said.

"Not much here. Except he's got this one locked file on his computer, I can't..." Sam stops as he looks through thr laptop. "...hold on." He said and he presses a few buttons, then grins in triumph. "Not anymore. God." He said, shocked.

"What?" Dean and I asked. "Well, he's got all these emails. Dozens, to this lady named Jennifer. This lady who's thirteen years old." Sam said and I suddenly started to feel sick. "Oh, I don't want to hear this." I said as I turn away and Dean comes up next to me and places his hands on my shoulders, trying to comfort me.

"Looks like they met in a chat room. These emails are pretty personal, guys Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet." Sam said. "Great." Dean said as I shake my head. "They were supposed to meet today." Sam said and Dean and I turn to face him. "Huh. Well, I guess if you're gonna stab someone, good timing." I said, shrugging.

"I don't know, guys, this is weird, you know? I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost like a do-gooder, you know? Like, like a --" Dean said, trying to find the right words. "Avenging angel?" Sam said and Dean turns away. "Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys, not connected to each other, all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy—" Sam said until Dean picks up something.

"Hey." He said. "What?" Sam asked. "You guys said Carl Gully was a churchgoer, right?" Dean asked. "Yeah?" We replied. "What was the name of his church?" Dean asked. "Uh...Our Lady of the Angels?" Sam said. "Of course that'd be the name." Dean said and he holds up a church flier for Our Lady of the Angels. "Looks like Frank went to the same church." Dean said.

Sam, Dean and I walk through the sanctuary of the Our Lady of the Angels church, speaking to a friendly priest named Father Reynods. "So you're interested in joining the parish?" He asked us. "Yeah, well, you know, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday." Dean said.

"Where'd you say you lived before?" Father Reynolds asked. "Fremont, Texas." I replied and the boys nodded. "Really? That's a nice town. St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there." Father Reynolds said. "Sure, yeah, no it's uh, Father O'Malley." Dean said. "Hmm, I know a Father Shaughnessy." Father Reynolds said, thinking. "Shaughnessy, exactly. What'd I say?" Dean said as the priest looks at him then Sam steps in.

"You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father." Sam said. "And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here." Father Reynolds said. "Hey, listen, I gotta ask — no offense, but uh, the neighborhood?" I asked him.

"Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off." He replied. "Huh. Yeah, we heard about the murders." Dean remarks. "Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years." Reynolds said.

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Sam asked. "Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic." Reynolds said. "So you don't believe in those angel yarns, huh?" Dean asked. "Oh, no, I absolutely believe. Kind of goes with the job description." Reynolds said then I nod to painting on the wall.

"Father, that's Michael, right?" I asked and he looks at the painting and nods. "That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil." He said. "So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?" Sam asked.

"Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified." Reynolds explains while Dean looks confused. "Luke. Two nine." Reynolds said and Dean nods sagely.

"Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father." I said to Reynolds as we walk out of the church. "Oh, it' s my pleasure. Hope to see you again." He said and Dean looks down at something. I follow his gaze and see a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps.

"Hey, Father, what's, what is all that for?" Dean asked. "Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here." Reynolds replied. "Was?" Dean and I asked. "He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt." Reynolds said.

"When did this happen?" Dean asked. "Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys." Reynolds said and I frown and give him a sympathetic look towards him. "I'm sorry." Sam said, sympathetically. "Yeah, me too. He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out." Reynolds said.

"For what?" I asked. "For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I s'pose." Reynolds replied and Sam and I frown. "Well, Padre, thanks. We'll see you again." Dean said and Reynolds nods at us then goes back inside.

At this moment, the boys and I begin to investigate the shrine. "Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there." Dean said and Sam shifts uncomfortably. "And he knew all the other stiffs, because they went to church here, in fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew." Dean replied.

"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?" Sam said and Dean sighs. "Aw, come on, man, what's your deal?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Sam. "Look, I'll admit I'm a bit of a skeptic, but since when are you all Mr., uh, 700 Club? No, seriously. From the git-go you've been willing to buy this angel crap, man. I mean, what's next, are you going to start praying every day?" Dean asked him.

"I do." Sam replied.

"What?" Dean said, confused.

"I do pray every day. I have for a long time." Sam replied, firmly, and I give a small smile towards him. "The things you learn about a guy." Dean said, startled. "Next thing, you'll say is that (y/n) prays." Dean said and I bite my lips. "Not as much as I should but I do." I replied and Dean looks between us as I start to fiddle with the little cross necklace around my neck.

"You're still wearing it." Sam said as he nods at the necklace as I fiddle with the cross pendant. "I-I just never noticed." He said and I smiled. "What? You thought I was gonna throw away your gift to me?" I said and Sam smiles while Dean looks between us and shakes his head.

"Well, come on, let's go check out Father Gregory's grave." Dean said and Sam and I start to follow him.

*3rd Person POV*

The church crypt is a maze of stone hallways, with numerous stone angel figurines. The trio wander through slowly, Dean and (y/n) a little ahead of Sam. As Dean and (y/n) go into another room, Sam stops and looks back at one of the angels.

He frowns as it, and then the entire room begins to shake. A brilliant light appears behind him and he turns, confusion washing away to a look of awe.

*(y/n)'s POV*

Dean and I hurry back into the room after we noticed that Sam didn't follow us. "Sam, come on, get the lead out." Dean calls out but Sam doesn't respond. "Sam?" I shout then we see Sam was passed out on the floor.

Then Dean and I rush over to him. "Sammy? Sammy! Hey!" Dean and I said, panicked, and Sam jerks awake, groaning. "Y'okay?" I asked him, worried, as he stares at the stone angel. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay." Sam replied. "Come on." Dean said and we haul Sam to his feet and guide him into the sanctuary, a hand on his arms, and Dean shuts the door behind us.

"You saw it, didn't you? Didn't you?" Dean asked Sam. "Yeah. Yeah. Guys, I saw an angel." Sam said and Dean and I give a shocked look at him. "You..." Dean mumbles and Sam sits on a pew and I sit next to him. Dean pulls out a flask, unscrews it and hands it to him. "All right. Here." He said.

"I don't want a drink." Sam said then Dean holds his flask to me. I shake my head and Dean shrugs then takes a swig. "So. What makes you think you saw a, uh, angel?" I asked Sam. "It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace." Sam replied.

"Okay, Ecstasy Boy, maybe we'll get you some glow sticks and a nice Dr. Seuss hat, huh?" Dean teased and Sam glares at Dean. "Dean, I'm serious. It spoke to me, it knew who I was." He said. "It's just a spirit, Sam. Okay? And it's not the first one to be able to read people's minds." Dean said as he sits down on another pew.

"Okay, let me guess. You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?" Dean asked. "Yeah, actually." Sam said. "Great." I muttered and Dean growls under his breath. "I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?" Dean asked him. "Actually I did, Dean. And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will." Sam replied then Dean stands up and starts pacing.

"Oh, this is, this is...I don't believe this." Dean mutters. "Dean, the angel hasn't been wrong yet! Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!" Sam exclaims. "You know, you're supposed to be bad too, maybe, maybe I should just stop you right now." Dean said and Sam looks up at him.

"You know what, Dean? I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility?" Sam asked him, angrily. "What, that this is an angel?" Dean asked. "Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!" Sam shouts.

"Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's — hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier." Dean said as he sits again. "I'll tell you who else had faith like that — Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me." Dean said and I frown towards him.

"You never told me that." Sam said, softly. "Well, what's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere, and rips you to shreds." Dean said then he looks down then back over to Sam. "You want me to believe in this stuff? I'm going to need to see some hard proof. You got any?" Dean asked Sam, who doesn't reply.

"Well, I do. Proof that we're dealing with a spirit." Dean said.

Later, we approach Father Gregory's tombstone to sed it covered in creeping vines. "That looks like—" Sam said, shocked. "It's wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest." I said to him and Dean nods. "I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam." Dean said and Sam shrugs, slightly.

"Maybe." Sam replied.

"Maybe?" Dean asked, confused.

"Dean, I don't know what to think." Sam said.

"Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof." Dean said.

"How?" Sam asked. "We'll summon Gregory's spirit." Dean replied and I turn, quickly, to him. "What? Here? In the church?" I asked him, shocked. "Yeah. Yeah, we just need a few odds and ends, and that, uh, séance ritual in Dad's journal." Dean replied. "Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available." Sam said with sarcasm.

"That's funny, actually. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest." Dean said, deadpan. "But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen." Sam said. "Exactly. That's one of the perks of the job, Sam: we don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure." Dean said and I look at Sam. "Don't you wanna know for sure?" I asked him and he looks down then nods.

That night, we leave a small grocery store, Sam holding a paper sack and smiling. "Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?" Sam said, questioning. "We'll just put it Spongebob side down." I said and Sam laughs but stops and stares at something.

"Guys, that's it." Sam said. "What?" Dean and I asked. "That's the sign!" Sam said. "Where?" We asked. "Right there, right behind that guy!" Sam said as he points at a guy that was holding some flowers in his hands. "That's him, guys. And we have to stop him." Sam said and the young man crosses the street.

Sam starts to go after him but Dean and I stop him. "Wait a minute." I said, urgently, and Sam looks at us. "What are you doing? Let me go." He exclaims. "You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?" Dean shouts at him.

"Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him." Sam said. "Define stop, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?" I asked Sam, worried. "Guys, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it." Sam said as he looks between us then Dean and I share a look.

"All right, come on." Dean said as the young man has gotten into a car and starts it up, pulling away. Dean gets in the driver side of his car and starts it while I get into the passenger side. Sam tries to get in the back seat but the door is locked.

"Dean. Unlock the door." Sam said, firmly. "You're not killing anyone, Sam. We've got this guy, you go do the séance." Dean said and I look over at him then to Sam. "Guys!" Sam shouts before Dean pulls away, following the young man at a short distance.

The man stops at a corner and gets out with the bunch of flowers, handing them to a woman waiting on the corner. They both get in the car and drive off again and we follow them.

After following him for a few minutes. The car turns down a dark alley and we temporarily lose sight of him. Dean slams the steering wheel in frustration. "Dammit!" Dean growls. "Okay, calm down. We'll find him." I said and Dean let's out a sigh and continues on.

Eventually, we find his car parked in an alleyway and Dean parks the car and we watch through the back window of the man's car. We get out of the car and slowly make our way to the car just as we hear the woman let out a scream then the man yelling at her.

Dean smashes the driver side window then reaches in, punches, and slams the man's face into the steering wheel as I go over to the passenger side. Dean unlocks the doors and I help the woman get out. "Are you okay? Are you okay?!" I asked her and she begins to cry. "Thank God!" She cries as Dean comes over to us.

Behind us, the car starts up and the man drives off. "Dammit!" Dean growls and I turn to the woman again. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you have a cell phone?" I asked her and she nods, still sobbing. "Call 9-1-1!" Dean and I shout at her and we run off and get in Impala to chase after the evil young man again.

DeN grips the steering wheel tightly after many tense and frantic moments of this chase. We cut across lanes, over grass, and generally cause mayhem. At a cross-street, a small pickup truck, carrying long metal pipes, screeches to a halt in front of the man's car.

A pipe spins off the truck bed, bouncing once on the ground and plowing straight through the man's windshield. "(Y/n) hang on!" Dean shouts as he stops the car in shock and I hold the door handle.

Once we stopped the car, both of us get out and walk towards the car, where we saw that the pipe had gone through the windshield and impaled the man through the chest. "Holy..." Dean mutters in surprise as my jaw drops and my eyes widen in shock.

Later, we approach the motel room and enters to see Sam packing. "How was your day?" Dean asked him. "You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory." Sam said in a sad, dull and demoralized tone.

Dean pulls the flask from his inner pocket, takes a drink, then I hold my hand out towards him. He hands me the flask and I take a sip and hand it back to Dean. Then he offers it to Sam, who takes it. "I don't know, guys, I just, uh..." Sam said as he sits on the bed. "I wanted to believe...so badly, ah...It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And...there's so much evil out there in the world, guys, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up..." Sam said and I go and sit next to him and place my hands on his shoulder.

"I know how you feel, Sam." I said to him, calmly, and Dean sits on the other side of Sam. "Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you." Dean said. "Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe..." Sam said.

"Maybe what?" I asked him. "Maybe I could be saved." Sam replied before he let's out a nervous laugh. "But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes." Sam said, sadly.

"Yeah, well, it's funny you say that." I said, letting out a small chuckle, and Sam looks at me. "Why?" He asked and I look over at Dean. "Care to explain what we saw, Dean?" I said and Dean looks down. "Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time." Dean said.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"He's dead." I replied and Sam's eyes widen and he looks between us. "Did...you?" Sam asked and we shake our heads. "No." Dean and I replied. "But I'll tell you one thing. If...The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes and if (y/n) wasn't there to witness it and confirm it, I never would have believed it. I mean...I don't know what to call it." Dean said.

"What? Guys, what did you see?" Sam asked and Dean and I share a look. "God's will." Dean and I replied.

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shintin · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not: Chapter 4 (Motel room)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Description: Imagine that from the moment you opened your eyes into this world, you had no choice but to kill and shed the blood of others, that you had to fight alongside Toji Fushiguru and die with him.

What would you do when they force you to do something you don't like? When the torment of conscience presses on your throat, will you give up? Now think about a day that life gives you another chance; how would you use it?

This is the story of a murderer who seeks salvation. Will she find it in the arms of Satoru Gojo? Or will pain find her sooner than redemption and drive her out of heaven forever?

Genre: heavy angst, sad love story, maybe tragedy, violence, lonely hearts, broken souls, +18.

Tags/Warnings: mentions of blood, angst, death, etc.

Author Note: There are pictures related to the story at the end of the chapter :)

Song Recommendation: Intikam Dizi Müzikleri - Bir Dilek Tut

Chapter index -> Next chapter

Year: 2007 (flashback)

Two days had passed since their arrival at the hotel. During most of these two days, Toji either looked at his laptop screen, watched the equestrian race on TV or reported to his employer on the phone.

Meanwhile, Y/N was either sharpening their knives and cleaning Toji's gun, or she was looking out the window.

Spending time among people always confused Y/N and made her think of a parallel world where she could have friends of her age to laugh with.

Whenever she thought about three days ago, she remembered the scene of a girl and a boy kissing on the street. Until that day, she had only seen kissing on television and in the movies. That specific scene was the first time seeing kissing up close.

It was interesting for Y/N that no negative energy was emitted from the girl or boy while kissing. The nature of that act gave her a headache. 'How could a simple act like putting your lips on someone else's lips can wash out all your negative energies?'

Unfortunately, our girl didn't have anyone to answer her questions. So, she sighed and went to her bed and tried to sleep. Tomorrow was a big day, but the girl didn't know yet.

Around noon of the following day, Toji and Y/N were lurking among the trees near the entrance gates of a monastery-like school. Two hours had passed without a word exchange between them. After hours of waiting, they could finally hear the laughter of four people in the distance.

Y/N, out of curiosity, moved a little so that she could see their faces. Two boys and two girls were approaching the gates.

One of the boys had white hair and sunglasses. 'Was he old? Was it possible to grow old in youth?' She looked at the other boy with black hair. 'He has attractive eyes and a charming smile.' One of the girls looked older and walked slowly beside the young girl with a high school uniform.

Suddenly something caught Y/N's attention. Except for the two boys who were sorcerers, the young girl, Riko Amanai, didn't emit any negative energy. She shook her head in disbelief. 'Is it possible for a human being to be pure innocent? If that's true; she doesn't deserve to die like a lamb.'

Before Y/N could say anything, Toji had long since risen and attacked them. Toji's sword had entered the back of the white-haired boy. The screams of Amanai and the other woman could be heard. Tears flowed from her eyes, but the cry of terror never left her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly, put her hands over her ears, and sat down as she sobbed softly. She never thought that killing an innocent person would bring her such pain. Why does she have to suffer? What was her sin? Nothing.

After a few hours, Toji returned to Y/N with a bloodstained sword and some minor injuries.

Y/N's hands were clenched, and her gaze was fixed on an unknown place. Toji sat down and took his phone out of his pocket. After exchanging a few short sentences, he ended the call. Then he turned to Y/N and said: "They want the body of Riko Amanai. I'm going to sit in the car, go and bring the body to the car."

While sheathing his sword, Toji walked away.

As I said before, Y/N was used to obeying Toji. So, regardless of the other times, she got up and walked to the school gates with heavy steps. The entire landscape was a mess of blood. Moving forward, her eyes fell upon the lifeless body of the white-haired boy. He was almost her age. All the boy's clothes were soaked in blood. Y/N looked around and knelt near the boy.

She reached for his hair and pulled his white hair away from his forehead. His hair was as soft as her blue hat and scarf. Her eyes fell on the stab wound on his forehead. 'Poor boy.' She gently put her hand on it. The wound was created by the knife she had sharpened yesterday. She was part of the bloodshed, too. Her hand was also stained with blood. Her gaze followed the trail of blood towards the boy's torn-out throat. Her eyes continued examining the boy's injuries, finally resting on a wound in the boy's abdomen. She unconsciously moved her hand towards his injury. She couldn't feel any pain. He was in peace. But was he actually dead? Our girl knew nothing of the fate that began with her little touch.

Y/N couldn't do anything for these people. Even if she could change something, she didn't dare to do it. She hated herself for being weak. Because of her weakness, an innocent girl died today. But little did she know that the white-haired boy felt the same way before closing his eyes.

She turned her face, got up, and made her way to Riko Amanai's body. A single bullet wound adorned her head. 'Good. At least she didn't suffer much.'

Y/N bent down and hugged Amanai's lifeless body, lifted it slowly, and made her way back. Yep, she was a strong one. Toji wouldn't use a weak tool.

The girl's death had changed something inside Y/N. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the blood in her veins was boiling with rage. 'I have to put an end to all this. But when?'

On the way back, she stood in front of the boy's lifeless body and looked at him again. Toji had torn the poor boy to pieces. But what happened next caused goosebumps to form on her arms. The boy's fingers trembled, and she noticed that his wounds were slowly healing.

'So, the boy has found his way back from the land of the dead.' The corners of Y/N's lips moved slightly upwards, and for the first time, a smile formed on her face.

'The innocent girl was to be avenged.' Y/N tried to hide her happiness behind her emotionless face.

After delivering the body, Toji and Y/N returned to the motel. While Toji was sitting on his bed counting his money, she put on her ragged coat and gathered her knife, scarf, and hat. She moved towards the door, knowing full well she would never see Toji again.

Don't get me wrong; she couldn't harm Toji. After all, it was Toji who kept her alive these past two years, but she couldn't kill another innocent human being either. That was it; she had to leave.

Suddenly, Toji called out from behind. She turned in fear and looked at him. He handed her several bills while saying, "today went well, this is your share. I don't want you to take the events of that day to heart. You know how I am act when I get angry. Now go and buy something for yourself."

'Since when does Toji think I have a heart?' Y/N took the money stained with the blood of an innocent and stuffed it in her pocket. She swore that this was the last time she would obey Toji.

Y/N went down the stairs, making her way to the forest instead of the supermarket. When she reached the beginning of the forest, she looked towards the motel. The white-haired boy was approaching their room. A tear fell from her eye, but she wiped it immediately. There was no time for getting emotional; he had to find her freedom before someone took it from her again. She turned her head and started running into the forest. Her heart ached as she reached the middle of the woods. She stood there, panting.

For unknown reasons, read it stupid loyalty, she couldn't leave Toji behind. She thought about coming back and dying beside him as she had promised. 'Better that way, finally, I could be free.'

But it was too late when she came back there. The motel room door was broken, and Toji's lifeless body was lying on the floor with open eyes. There was no sign of the white-haired boy.

The girl sat quietly in the corner of the bed. Now that Toji was dead, she couldn't feel anything. She was neither happy nor sad. She was hollow like death.

It is love that makes people sad when they lose someone. Y/N didn't love Toji. She was just used to living with him. There was no sign of love or affection in their relationship.

"I think it's time to say goodbye, Toji. You humiliated me, tortured me, used me, but at the same time, you fed me and kept me safe. I think we are even, hm? Thank you for everything."

Y/N knelt, closed his eyes, and left the room. Fate closed the door behind her and followed her step by step.

A/N: The motel in the story:

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themfchase · 4 years

Text

endings & beginnings | jjk (m)

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

‒ ending and beginnings. (m) one-shot. ✎ [14k words]

genre: supernatural!au, childhood friends!au.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, slight choking, (jk has a massive dong), an absurd amount of scoffing and eye rolling, lowkey pining, angst, hhh angst again, mentions of blood, mentions of car accident, mentions of death and grief. physics or spiritual physics mean nothing here, don’t judge me. After the sad passing of your grandmother, you take on the task to pack up her things so you can sell the house, but you’re interrupted by someone you haven’t seen in years, and oh, he’s hurt. N/A: This is based on a movie plot, but I don’t wanna say the movie because I don’t want to give it away, but, I decided to write a little supernatural type au for the spooky season, and of course, I’m a lover of angst, so, I’m giving you all this. I really hope you like it, and if you do, please remember to press that heart and reblog button! It helps a lot. And please, never hesitate to send me messages! I really love receiving them!

Death. It was truly a mysterious thing. The concept of death. Humans gave it a meaning, as if life was only but a preparation for what was to come in the afterlife. Heaven, Hell, Oblivion. It didn’t really matter to you. And no matter how many years you spent in Sunday school, learning about sin and how it was a currency that either allowed you to enter the peaceful realms of the afterlife or the eternal suffering of the underworld, it still meant nothing to you. But still, you prayed for forgiveness as a child, your grandmother right there beside you clutching her rosemary tightly in her fists with screwed shut eyes and mumbling apologies in hopes for redemption. You wonder if she found what she was looking for, and it was almost a bittersweet thought as you looked down at her lifeless body, neatly resting in the casket. She looked peaceful, at least. Maybe that meant something. And even if death for some reason meant nothing to you, you still couldn’t hold back the quiet tears that rolled down your cheeks. This woman raised you. She raised you into the strong woman you were today. With your own business, no longer struggling to put food on the table, but now able to send her money every week, to give her the life she deserved. Because she was one hell of a woman, that you can say, from the years she raised you. Resilient, strong, and all by herself when your parents suffered a terrible fate in a car accident when you were only a toddler. Come to think of it, you were quite familiar with death. It had visited you one too many times. Maybe that was why you didn’t care for it. For what was to come, because, in the end, death would be everyone’s end. And some may say it’s a sad life, to not really think there is anything at all once you die. That your brain simply shuts and then there is a lot of nothing. No, you weren’t skeptical; you believed in... Something. Science, nature perhaps. You believed that it didn’t matter if our subconscious continued to echo through the air giving us a fake sense of the afterlife or if in fact; we were reborn in another life. Because death was death. And for you, and everyone else, it was inevitable. Just as inevitable as having to come back to this town, back down to the old farmhouse where you were raised, three hours from the city you lived in, to clean out your grandmother’s things. Ever since she was sent to the hospital, a buyer was interested in the large land, offering a good price on it once she passed. And people called you cold, that you’d even negotiate with a man while your grandmother was in her deathbed, but the reality was that you hadn’t been to this town in almost ten years, and you and the doctors knew she wasn’t going to make it. You loved her, you truly did. You were grateful for everything she had done for you. But what were you supposed to do? Keep the house there, gathering dust while you went back to your penthouse in a busy city and forgot about it altogether? No, that wouldn’t be fair to your grandmother. If you weren’t going to take care of the house, you could at least put it to good use. And you thought about maybe renovating it, putting it on Airbnb for some backpackers that would eventually stop by the town. You were still pondering on that idea even while you drove into the driveway, coming from the small meek motel just three blocks from the funeral home where everyone mourned the town’s loss. And even looking at it as you parked, one single bagel from Cindy’s Diner hanging in your mouth and a cup of Iced coffee you had to explain to Cindy’s daughter how to make, it looked... Exactly as it did ten years ago when you left. Three floors, with hard oak walls and, resin painted wood on the outside, vines that crept upwards midway past the second floor, but never too close to the windows, a vast wooden front porch with two swings on each side of the door and the large tainted glass windows from the living room and kitchen, reminding you of the same ones you saw in Sunday school. It was almost a smaller wooden castle, too many bedrooms for just the two of you as you grew up, but enough that you became really good at hide and seek. It was still the same, and you sighed. You had some amazing memories here, that was true. Bonfires with your grandmother as she told you scary stories, your neighbors coming down to play with the hose when it was really hot. You even remembered trying to build a treehouse with your grandma, but you never finished because rain season started. And the sky looked just like it looked right now, dark rumbling clouds closing in, nothing but the vast field behind the house and the faraway mountains on the horizon. Before the thick raindrops began its descent you rushed out of the car, chewing on the piece of bagel as you rushed to the back seat to grab your bags, deciding to leave the unfolded cardboard boxes there and maybe get them later once the rain calmed down. Rushing up the driveway with your large bag of clothes in your hand, the rain began to pour just a few feet away from the porch, and you let out a little shriek at the cold drops hitting your skin, making you run a little faster. Finally, under the protection of the front porch, you dug into your pockets for the keys, rummaging through both front pockets and the single pack pocket. You were sure they were there, and you huffed in annoyance, a little wet already as you put two and two together and remembered the iced coffee in your cupholder and the keys right beside it. You grunted, throwing your head back and gazing towards your black car. The rain was pouring down hard and from what you remembered, chances were it wouldn’t stop soon, so placing your bag right beside the door you took in a deep breath and ran for your car as raindrops soaked right through your clothes. Opening the car door and quickly reaching for the keys, you made your way back to the porch now dripping wet from the unforgiving rain that had started. Finally opening the thick wooden door, it screeched open, showing that it hadn't been used in the six months that your grandmother made the hospital her permanent home. You shoved your bag in with your feet before finally closing the door behind you. It was quiet. Well, other than the harsh rain that hit against the windows and wood, the house was dark and quiet, a little gruesome too. You rested your back against the door, head falling back as you took in a deep breath. You opened your eyes and let them roam through the house, the open kitchen, and the large living room. No television. Quickly taking out your phone, you huffed once again, no service either. You were thankful that you left your catering business in good hands with Jimin, your partner, back in town, so even without service, you knew there was really no good reason for him to reach out other than to chat. Finally, pulling away from the door, you flick on the lights, the old yellow lamps flickering before it illuminated the space, and it suddenly felt normal again, just like it did when you were a kid. It almost felt like home. Sighing, you picked up your bag and placed it right beside the couch, walking towards the laundry room to retrieve a dry and clean towel you knew your grandmother always had in case she had any visitors and you began to dry your hair already walking back to the living room to open your bag for a fresh pair of clothes to change into. Maybe you’d take a shower before you made something to eat. The sun would be setting soon anyway, so there was really no point in starting to pack anything today and the rain really didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon. If you remembered correctly, sometimes it rained like this for days on end, the roads rather dangerous, some even closing down. You remembered how on days like these, school was canceled, and you could stay home and play all day, have tea parties, bake and cook with your grandma. You smiled fondly at the memory as you found a white shirt and some sweat pants from your bag, and just as you were standing up to strip from your wet clothes, three loud knocks to the door startled you. With your heart now beating in your throat and a hand lifted to your chest, you looked at the door. Who could it be? Eyes moving to the clock just above the kitchen sink, it read seven pm. When did time pass so fast? You had just― Three more loud knocks. Blinking at the door, you finally decided to walk towards it, not even thinking before you unlocked and opened. In reality, the town had always been safe, and maybe it was your big city fears creeping up on you but the sight of a wet man with his head down and hands resting on each side of the door had you startled, eyes bulging slightly as you couldn’t make out his face in the dark, your hand blindly reached out to the light switch beside the door, the one that turned on the porch lights and you flicked it on, the man lifting his face to you. Oh. He seemed familiar, and he was young, about your age. Black, wet shirt hugging his strong and muscular frame tightly, making your eyes move to the bulge of his biceps and veins that dripped with water, then your eyes moved to his strong shoulders and up to his thick neck before landing on his defined jaw that also dripped with water and blood― Wait, blood! “Oh my god, are you ok?!” You asked, one hand coming to cover your mouth in your loud surprised reaction as you noticed he had a small cut right above his thick eyebrow. He smiled, well, smirked almost as he let out an airy chuckle. And oof, if that wasn’t the most charming smile you have ever seen, despite the blood dripping down the side of his face. “I, well― I need some help, is your grandmother home?” He asked looking into the house, now standing fully, towering over you. The mention of your grandmother had your mouth closing. Who was this guy and how did he know who lived here? And well, if he did, it was unfortunate that he didn’t know that she had passed the day before. “I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked, and even if you tried not to sound condescending, you did, and he lifted the brow that wasn’t hurt. “You seriously don’t recognize me, Y/N?” He asked and crossed his strong arms over his chest. He knew your name, and yeah, he did look familiar, but he seemed to remember you a lot better than you remembered him. At your silence, he chuckled again. “Jungkook.” He said, and the name had memories rushing back like a tidal wave. “We used to make mud pies together, I’m offended that you don’t remember, you ate them with vigor.” He joked, and you laughed, pursing your lips right after. “Shit, I’m sorry, you look so...” Hot. “Different.” He smiled wide, now letting his hands down, moving into his front pockets. “So do you, it’s been what... Fifteen? Sixteen years?” He asked, and you nodded, crossed your arms, and resting your shoulder on the door frame. In a perfect world, you would be able to gawk at his wet body without being caught, but in this world. He tilts his head to the side and flicks his tongue out once he notices your eyes roaming, giving you a quick once over himself. “So uh... Is your grandmother home, I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere...” He trailed off as if unable to remember exactly where. “...and it won’t start back up. I cut my eyebrow, I was wondering if she could take a look at it for me.” He took you out of your thoughts and you blinked a few times, leaning away from the door frame. “Oh... My grandma... passed away yesterday.” Your voice was a lot lower than you expected and Jungkook’s eyes bulged slightly, lips parting as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what to say. “I uh, I’m here to pack her things.” You nibbled on your lower lip, nodding before you cleared your throat. “Would you like to come in, though? I can take a look at it for you.” You made way, and he just nodded, coming inside. Closing the door behind you, you watched Jungkook take a few steps inside, his back to you as his eyes roamed the house. Memories of his own coming to play. “You can take a seat at the kitchen table, I’ll get the first aid kit.” You said making your way to the cabinet under the kitchen sink. You could barely hear him move, but once you grabbed the small white box, he was there seated quietly, looking at you. How could you forget Jungkook, anyway? You spent most of your childhood with him, playing in the backyard, sometimes going to his house for sleepovers, even if it was far from the farmhouse. You both were inseparable before his parents divorced and his mother moved to the city, taking him along with her, and you never saw him again. Not until now. As you took out the gauze, antiseptic, and some surgical tape you watched him look almost uncomfortable, looking around the empty house before looking at you. You knew what he wanted to say, he had that look in his eyes, the “shit, you lost someone and I’m really uncomfortable because I have no idea what that’s like, but I still want to show you some sympathy” look, and you took in a deep breath. “You don’t have to say it, you know, I heard it at least fifty times yesterday.” You spoke softly as you took one cotton ball and swiped gently at the cut. “Say what?” He asked, looking up at you, not even flinching as you cleaned his wound. “You know... I’m sorry for your loss and stuff.” You shrugged, taking another cotton ball and soaking it in antiseptic. “Oh...” He said, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “I am though... I loved your grandmother.” He sighed, and you smiled softly, looking at a now clean wound. It didn’t look deep, but you were no expert. It did seem as if he had bled a lot, so you decided to wrap it before it started to bleed again. “Well, thanks, everyone loved my grandma, she was amazing.” You said softly as you began to tape the gauze to his cut, never once did he complain of pain. With the close proximity and the uncomfortable silence, you cleared your throat. “So... Did you move back here?” You asked, and he shook his head. “No... My father is getting too old to come down to the city now and then, so I decided to come here for a change, I’m only in town for a little while.” He answered, looking out the kitchen window to the rain still pouring out. “How is life here, anyway? I haven’t been here since forever.” He shook his head as you slowly ― tried to ― tape the gauze in place. “I wouldn’t know, haven’t been here for the last ten years. Left for college at 17, didn’t come back.” You shrugged, reaching for another piece of tape before leaning back into him. “Where did you go?” He asked, and you leaned back, blinking at his question. “Oh, you mean for school? McKenzie Brown.” You said and his eyes bulged. “No fucking way. So did I! How did we not cross each other on campus?” He seemed excited, and it just showed his boyish ways, a contrast to the very manly muscles on his body and that smirk he had given you earlier. Chuckling, you were also surprised that you had both gone to the same college, but yet, never crossed paths. It wasn’t really that hard to believe, given the university you were accepted to was very, very big, with a lot of students and up to 100 per class. “Guess life didn’t want us to.” You shrugged, and he shook his head. “Fucking coincidence. I was kinda famous back in school.” He said, looking down at his lap and you lifted a brow, making him look up at you and chuckle. “All I’m saying is that I had some fun, had a reputation.” Your smile widened, and you squinted your eyes, even if you both haven’t seen each other in sixteen years, somehow it didn’t really feel like you were strangers. “Are you telling me, that Jeon Jungkook, the cute, bunny teeth kid that made me mud pies and held my hand when we crossed the street, was a fuckboy?” You laughed as you finally finished wrapping him up. His mouth opened almost to protest, but instead of that, he shrugged, and a smirk spread on his lips. “Who said anything about was?” A loud scoff left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Truly, it was hot. He was hot, that was undeniable. But to imagine this man that was here in your kitchen as a fuckboy was truly something you weren’t ready to let your mind wander off. Wonder off to how many people he’s slept with, how much experience he must have. You cleared your throat. “All done.” Was all you said as you got up. With his clothes still wet and yours too, you threw the soiled cotton balls away and directed him to the bathroom where he could wash the blood that had dripped down his face. Once he made his way back, you stood by the door with the pair of fresh clothes in your hands, ready to bid him goodbye, but instead, he walked mid way and sat on the handrest of the couch. “You said you were packing her things, why?” He crossed his arms again, your eyes shot to his very wet clothes against the couch and you blinked at his question. “I’m selling the house.” You said and started making your way towards the door, still hearing the rain rumble aggressively outside. “Wait, what? You can’t sell the house!” He stood up, a look of outrage in his eyes. You turned around and looked back at him with an incredulous look on your face. “Excuse me?” You questioned, blinking in disbelief. “You can’t sell the house! This house has... Has a shit ton of memories and it’s a place where you can raise your kids! You’re just going to sell it to some stranger who’s probably going to turn it into another cellphone tower?” He sounded annoyed, irritated even. “This is my house, and if I want to sell it to someone who wants to turn it into a fucking strip club or whatever, I will.” You crossed your arms, and he furrowed his brows. Truly, you wouldn’t, not that you had anything against strip clubs, but you wouldn’t want your grandmother’s holy name to go to dust in a conservative town like this. “And if anything, this town could use a freaking cellphone tower, since there is no service here!” You shrugged as if it was obvious. “Wow, didn’t take you for a heartless bitch.” Now that was the last straw. It was almost as if the funny, charming Jungkook from before had vanished in a blink of an eye and all you could see right now was a condescending, nosy ― but hot ― stranger making demands and offending you. “Get out.” You said calmly, crossing your arms. Jungkook gave you a pointed look, a scoff leaving him. “You’re going to kick me out in this rain?” He raised a brow. “Well, you somehow made your way here in this rain, I’m sure you can make your way back.” Maybe you were a heartless bitch. And your ex-boyfriends might agree, but the truth was, you didn’t like anyone making decisions for you, if anything, you didn’t like men making decisions for you. “Oh, don’t worry your spoiled little ass, I’ll leave in a second, just gotta remember where...” He began walking towards the door and stopped midway, his voice slurring. He stumbled a little, one hand moving up to the wrapped cut. “Remember where my... my car...” He shook his head, as if unable to see straight, and even if you were irritated, your mind and body quickly went into action, walking towards him to keep him steady. “Jungkook?” You called softly, and he leaned against your hand, unfocused eyes looking for you. He didn’t look good, the once white gauze now with a bright red spot where the blood seeped through. “Hey, why don’t you sit down a little, you might have hit your head a little harder than you thought.” You continue to speak softly, slowly maneuvering him towards the couch. You sat him down with a thud, a huff leaving him as his head lolled in his hand. From the few medical documentaries you’ve watched in the past, you knew that if he had a concussion, sleeping right now wasn’t the best idea. “I’m going to get you some dry clothes and make us some coffee, I think you better stay here tonight.” You look out the window, he surely wouldn’t have made it back to his car. A minute ago you were ready to kick him out into the rain because of your irritation, now you would have regretted it if anything had happened to him, had you done so. Sighing, you quickly made your way to your grandmother’s closet where she still kept a few of your father’s clothes and you took a large shirt and some sweats, just like your own. Making your way back down, Jungkook still sat there with his head between his hands. He looked up at you once you made your way to him and reached out for the clothes. “Feeling a little better?” You asked, pursing your lips. “Yeah, just... Dizzy.” He admitted, not looking at you. “I’m... Sorry. I’m sorry. That was way out of line.” He blurted out, looking up at you as he took in a deep breath. You pondered on it for a few seconds, you both were friends once, even if you were children, he wasn’t a complete stranger and that meant that you still nurtured some type of fondness over him ― and no, it wasn’t only because he glowed up. “We’re cool. Just don’t call me a bitch again, or a brat, otherwise, I’ll probably give you another concussion” That made him chuckle, and you laughed back. “Anyway, get dressed, we’re going to end up sick if we stay in these clothes.” Jungkook nodded, immediately reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, and you didn’t have time to turn around before his bare torso ― and abs― came into view. Oh, he was truly a sight to see, wet locks falling down his face, damp, glowing skin in the dim yellow lights of the house, ripples of his abs and thin waist so well defined, if your mouth wasn’t agape before, it was now and you caught yourself, turning around to give him some privacy. “Please, as if I didn’t catch you checking me out at the door.” He scoffed, you couldn’t see him, only hear the sound of ruffling clothes. “I wasn’t checking you out!” You defended yourself, not looking at him and not sounding convincing at all. “You were totally checking me out, I was checking you out too.” Yeah, you were checking him out, but him checking you out? That was new information. Not that you weren’t worthy of being checked out, in fact, you were very confident in yourself, not because of your looks, but because you knew that success was written all over your face and that was enough reason for men to find you attractive. “Figures.” You smirked, arms crossing over your chest. Jungkook rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it and you could hear him standing up, probably changing out of his wet pants. You waited patiently, very tempted to peek, see what he was hiding behind those pants. You had noticed how firm and thick his thighs looked in those dark, wet pants. “You can turn around now.” He informed, and you quickly turned, seeing him in the cozy clothes you had picked out. It wasn’t that you remembered because you didn’t, but seeing Jungkook in your father’s clothes made it all very... Domestic. You quickly swallowed as you looked him down and grinned. “Ok, I’m... I’m going to go change and make us some coffee, don’t fall asleep.” You informed, and he sat back down, folding his wet clothes. You were glad that there was at least coffee in the pantry, because food? Other than some crackers and powdered eggs, none of that. You made a mental note to go get some tomorrow if you were meant to spend the week here. You picked up the two mugs and made your way to the living room where Jungkook sat quietly, looking around. Handing him his mug, he took it with a quiet “thank you” before you sat on the armchair right in front of him. It was awkward now. Both of you quiet as you sipped on the hot coffee in your now dry clothes and looked around, it was uncomfortably quiet until― “I can’t believe you’re selling this house.” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you expect me to do? It’s not like I live here, I haven’t lived here in ten years!” Jungkook sat closer to the edge of the couch. “Maybe not now, but what about in, like, a couple of years when you get married and have kids, wouldn’t you want to settle down in a peaceful place like this?” He stated as if it was obvious. “What makes you think I want kids? What makes you think I even want to get married?” You gave him a pointed look. And he was quiet, thinking for a while. “Well, I assumed you were the type...” His voice was more hesitant. “You assume a lot of things about me, apparently. Besides, if you’re so into the whole traditional family thing, why don’t you move back to town and all that jazz?” With that, Jungkook rested back against the couch, laughing bitterly and shaking his head. “Me? No, no. I don’t believe in marriage.” It was your turn to scoff. “And yet you were expecting me to believe in it?” You took a sip of your coffee. “No, I have no plans of getting married, my business is thriving and I’m making a shit load of money, I have no need for a man.” You looked down at your mug and Jungkook went quiet. You flicked your gaze to him, confused at his silence, and you were met with an intense look right back at you. “What?” You asked. “Are you straight?” He asked, and you almost choked on your own spit. “Why does it matter?!” You were appalled by his question. “Well, are you attracted to men?” He continued. “Yes!” You answered right back. “So you don’t need men for anything?” He lifted a brow. “I can’t seem to find your point here, Jungkook.” You argued. “I’m saying if you’re attracted to men only, and I don’t want to assume, sexually speaking, you maybe can get by with a toy, maybe a very realistic dildo or a vibrator, but I take that it’s not like the real thing, so you’re not fully satisfied, therefore... You kinda do need men. Even if it’s just to get off.” He finished with the calmest expression ever and you were left with your eyes bulged and a slightly parted mouth. You were speechless, not only because of how nonchalantly he said those things but because he had a point. Sure, you got yourself off pretty well here and there with toys, but a real, live human was irreplaceable to you. With your mouth opening and closing a few times, you blinked. “If we’re talking about sex and sex only, then maybe, yes, I do need a man, but 90% of the time they don’t do it right anyway, so I rather resort to my toys. They’re also pretty quiet.” You rested your mug on the center table, lifting your legs and folding them besides you. “You met the wrong kind of men.” He cockily says, and you notice then that he’s flirting. This was something you enjoyed. Flirting. You were pretty good at it too. “And I assume you’re the right kind?” You teased back, and the lazy smirk that spread on him was devastatingly attractive. “Would you like to find out?” He rests his mug right beside yours, sitting back again, and your eyes fell to the swell of his thighs. Surely they would feel delicious under your palms, or perhaps your heat, fuck, all of him would probably feel delicious, his large strong hands, his bulging muscles and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t disappoint in the downstairs department. “I would like to know how you’re feeling.” You change the subject, watching him purse his lips and nod in understanding before he answers. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, in fact, you had since the moment you laid eyes on him. But he was hurt, maybe still a little confused, and you surely didn’t want to take advantage of that. “Feeling better, yeah. I don’t think I can walk back to my car, though.” He admits, eyes falling to the window to see the rain still resilient outside. “We have spare rooms, you can stay the night, and tomorrow we can find a way to call for a repair or something like that to get your car from wherever you left it.” He nodded, getting up and picking up the mugs before making his way to the kitchen where he left them both in the sink. You showed him the way to the guest bedrooms, making sure you left him in one that was close enough to your old bedroom in case he felt sick during the night, and you being a night owl, would make sure to check on him during the night. You gave him a fresh change of sheets and a towel in case he wanted to shower and said goodnight before moving to your room. It had been a while since you stepped foot in there, and it was all still exactly the same. Your dark purple walls with posters, the pictures of your friends from high school hanging on the vanity mirror, you smiled fondly at one of you and Jungkook, maybe you were ten, nine, you couldn’t remember, but his large bunny-like teeth peeked out, one single hole showcasing his loss of one tooth. You sat down on the bed with a huff, a picture from the vanity flying off with the wind it caused, and you reached down to the floor to pick it up. It was one of you and your grandmother. Her large smile, so bright and powerful as it always was, leaning down with white gloves as she planted a flower right in the front garden of the house. You were right there beside her, wide smile as well, just as happy, as thrilled as you both planted new flowers to adorn the house. The same was in the background, full of life and so many memories that you felt a light tug at your heart. Maybe Jungkook was right... Maybe selling a hose as memorable as this one was a heartless act. But you brushed that thought away, placing the picture on the vanity counter and getting ready for bed. You were hyper-aware of the man in the other room, one that had insinuated that he wanted to sleep with you only but a few minutes ago, but not because of that. You were hyper-aware of him in the other room as you finally felt a hard sob rip through your throat. Crying everything you hadn’t cried in the last three days. You tried muffling your cry, but it was too painful to do so. You would miss her and you regretted not visiting. You regretted how annoyed you seemed when she showed up to your apartment unannounced with her bags saying she “missed you and was spending the weekend” detouring whatever stupid plan you had. You regretted so much, but now it was too late to regret anything at all. She was gone. You were completely alone in this world. No parents, no family at all, not even a cousin, a boyfriend. Not even a real friend. You fell asleep with silent sobs that night, and unknown to you, a very wide awake and hazy Jungkook hearing every moment of it with a weird feeling in his chest and body. It wasn’t only because you were crying. But because he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything about his accident or anything before he knocked on your door. Pancakes. Or maybe waffles, perhaps eggs. Yes, eggs and bacon. That’s what you smelled. And coffee, fresh-brewed coffee. Your eyes gently fluttered open, the soft light seeping through the curtains in the room quickly reminding you where you were, and yet the smell of breakfast was all you could think of. You rubbed your eyes, slipping on your flip-flops before slowly making your way out of your room, you quickly passed the room Jungkook had slept in, looking in to see it was as if no one had slept there at all and as you made your way downstairs slowly, the smell intensified. You went around the kitchen wall only to be met by a shirtless Jungkook, the shirt you had given him hanging on his shoulders as he whistled to a song on your grandmother’s old radio and stirred some eggs on the frying pan. The low slide of your flip-flops against the hardwood floor had him turning his head towards you. “Good morning!” He beamed with a bright smile. Your eyes moved to the kitchen table, eggs, bacon, coffee, and... Pancakes? You were confused, very confused. “Someone’s not a morning person.” Jungkook chuckled as he turned off the oven and pushed more eggs onto a plate in the center of the kitchen table. “Come on, sit down, have some coffee so you can function like a normal human being.” You didn’t know what was more startling, the sight of pancakes when you clearly saw there was no food or the sight of a shirtless Jungkook cooking you breakfast as if you two had just slept together the night before. You didn’t say anything, still confused and drowsy with sleep as you sat down, eyes flicking to Jungkook as he put his shirt back on to sit right beside you and start pouring you a cup of coffee. “I’m...” You began, watching him pour himself some before reaching for the really well-done pancakes. “How did you...” “The pancakes?” He asked, and you nodded. “They’re vegan. I found some flour that wasn’t expired in the cabinet and some vanilla extract, made them with water and some oatmeal powder, oh and sugar!” He shrugged. “I actually work with vegan and vegetarian food. Not that I am either of those myself, but there is a huge place in the market for it. I make easily affordable meals for people who don’t have time to cook for themselves.” You rubbed your eyes slowly, reaching for the coffee mug and bringing it to your lips, taking a large sip before you sighed. “That’s pretty useful, I’ve lost some clients in the past because my menus don’t offer them Vegetarian or Vegan options.” Your raspy voice spoke out. “Menus?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Yeah... I have a catering business. Weddings, parties, companies, even movie productions.” You began to explain. “I started with culinary school, wanted to become a chef, I kind of did, but I didn’t want to work at a restaurant where you have these really straight forward menus, I wanted to do something different, even fun.” You reached for a single piece of bacon. “So, my menu also caters to children, we have gourmet corn dogs, sweet popcorn, some over the top hamburgers.” You smiled, bringing the food to your mouth and taking a bite of it. “Just like your grandma, huh?” He said and your eyes moved to him. You had never made that connection before. But now that he pointed it out, he was right. You remember you and your grandmother cooking several fun meals all day. Baking cakes, pies, making savory snacks for when your friends came over. And your birthday parties always had a little something different, and it was all your grandmother’s doing. “Yeah, I guess...” You chewed, reaching for the vegan pancake, not really trusting it would taste good with the ingredients he had mentioned. But to your surprise, as soon as you cut a piece and put it in your mouth, the loud moan you let out would have been lewd if not for Jungkook’s loud chuckle as he watched you eat his cooking. “What the fuck, this is delicious!” You almost screamed, digging in more. “And it’s healthy too.” He lifted his cup. “Fuck, fuck... So fucking good.” You continued the moans of gastronomical pleasure. “Not going to lie, it’s kind of hot watching you lose your shit over my cooking.” He chuckled, and you gave him a pointed look, rolling your eyes before going back to the pancake. “Jesus fuck, Jungkook, this is amazing, we should totally work together sometime, I have so many clients that would pay big fucking bucks for healthy, vegan meals like this.” You offered, already finishing the pancake. “Yeah? I could use the cash, business is good but it could be better.” You smiled at him, still chewing, and just as you were about to speak the radio beamed with what you recognized as a hurricane alert. “Seems like we have a hurricane heading towards the town in about one day or two, all main roads are closed for the time being, we advise everyone to stay in their homes, stock on food and water. Do not go outside under any circumstances, I repeat, do not go outside under any circumstances.“ You and Jungkook shared a concerned look, and he pursed his lips. “I should probably find a way to get to town...” And just as he said that a bright flash of lighting had you bulging your eyes and a loud rumble of thunder shook the house, heavy, aggressive rain pouring outside in a matter of seconds. Jungkook looked at you and you pursed your lips. “Or maybe not.” You said right before the lights flickered and you heard the refrigerator turn off. “Great.” You chuckled and Jungkook shook his head. “I’m really out of luck, I bet my car is already fucked by now.” He sighed, resting his head in his hands. “If you have insurance your car will be fine.” You said standing up to test the lights before confirming the power was off and heading for the kitchen drawers, looking for candles. “We don’t have any more food or water,” Jungkook interjected, watching you bring two packs of candles and leave them on the table. It was still pretty illuminated in the house, despite the dark clouds making it seem like the sun was already setting. “I, well, we do, actually, my grandmother has a bunker I guess, she has a lot of canned foods and stuff like that, also a shit load of water, we should be good.” You informed, walking back to the table, noticing that Jungkook’s hair was wet. “Did you take a shower?” You asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion. “Your hair is wet.” You said as you sat down. His hand moves up to his hair, running his fingers through the damp locks. “Oh... I guess they just take a long time to dry.” He shrugged, and you gave him a look of confusion before finishing your breakfast. “You don’t mind me staying?” He asked after you both finished eating, you were at the sink, washing the dishes as he sat on the kitchen counter right beside you, watching. “Honestly, what’s a couple more days gonna do. Besides, I would probably shit my pants if I had to go through a hurricane in the dark by myself.” Jungkook lifted his brow at that. “So... Another thing you need a man for other than getting off?” He gave you a smug look. You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some water onto him. “No! Company doesn’t necessarily require a man, Jungkook.” You answered, finally finishing the dishes, placing them to dry. “And you seem to be obsessed with the idea of me getting off.” You dried your hands and looked at him, leaning on your hands on the counter. There it was. That lazy, charming smirk of his. One that honestly had your panties twisting. “You want me to lie?” He cocked his head. “You’re outrageous.” You chuckled, turning your back to him and taking a few steps before you were stopped by a cold hand on your upper arm. It wasn’t a tight grip, if anything, it was a gentle one. He was already on his feet, tugging you back to him, and the little huff you let out once your body fell flush against his had him smiling wider, your hands resting on his chest. “You know what’s outrageous?” His hands slipped down your arms gently to rest on your hips, it was almost as if he was hesitant to touch you, waiting for consent, as his silky voice spoke, his back rested against the counter, legs slightly parted for you to slot yourself in the middle. “The fact that I know I can make you cum so hard and good that your legs stop working and you’re here pretending you don’t know.” That had a blush spreading on your cheeks, a loud swallow almost inaudible because of the hard rain hitting the window just behind him. “How would I really know, though? You seem like a teller, not a shower.” You teased back, already feeling heat cripple down your body. You could feel his firm body against yours, even if you weren’t exactly pressed to him and his hands rested gently on your hips. You moved your gaze up. Even a little slouched down he towered over you, eyes glossy and full of intention, and that smirk. That freaking smirk. His pink tongue came out to flicker over his bottom lip, your gaze following it before moving back to his dark eyes. “May I?” His gaze moved to the hands on your hips and you blinked slowly up at him, nodding once. What was once a hesitant touch to your hips became a hard, deliciously painful grip. Thumbs digging into the dip of your hip bone and pulling your hips into him, your middle gently rubbing against his. Your lips parted as you gently let your head fall back, giving him an opening even you weren’t aware of in your clouded judgement. And soon, lips were on the expanse of your neck. Soft, damp lips, grazing your skin and sending ripples of goosebumps down your body, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. “The things I’ll do to you...” He whispered against your skin, parting his lips to gently nip at the curve of your neck and jawline. It was as if you were entranced, truly. His body, words, touch was like a magnet to you, unable to even think properly as he littered his way up with gentle kisses, sucking softly at your skin once you whimpered at a rather sensitive spot. “Jungkook...” You whimpered out and he rolled his hips into you at the sound of his name, clearly pleased with how it sounded coming from you. Your arms quickly moved to wrap around his neck as he made his way up, more and more, lips tracing your jawline all the way to your chin before he hovered right against your lips, eyes almost shut as he looked at the ultimate surrendering look on your face. Your eyes opened into slits, looking back at the intense gaze he was giving you, lips almost aching with the want to be kissed, you wanted to kiss him so bad, no... You needed to kiss him. It was almost as if you were desperate. “Do you want me to kiss you, sweetheart?” His breath fanned against your lips, warm and smelling of coffee. Just as you were about to answer, another bright flash of lightning blinded you for a second before the violent rumble of thunder shook the house. You squealed, it was so close and Jungkook, despite his manly frame also had bulging eyes as he looked around, watching the lamps shake slightly. “Shit, that was a close one.” He let out under his breath. You could feel something poking against the edge of your stomach and suddenly you didn’t feel in the mood to make out with him, but rather protect yourself. “You think we should go to the bunker?” You asked, looking back at him with wide eyes and a slight pout on your lips. He was so endeared. You looked just like you did when you were a child, scared of whatever it was, and he sighed, despite the arousal still very clear in his eyes. “Yeah, we can go to the bunker. Can you grab some blankets and pillows? I’ll grab your bag and the candles.” He informed and you nodded, quickly making your way up the stairs. The “bunker” was actually the basement, with concrete walls and with shelves filled with canned foods and gallons of water along with medicine. There were two sleeping bags, one that was meant for you and another that was meant for your grandmother, and as you laid them down, placing the pillows and blankets on them, Jungkook was strategically placing the candles around the room, using a lighter he found in a drawer to light them. When he was done, he went up the little stairs to close the door, the strong lock making a loud nose. He made his way back to the candlelit room, you were already seated, with crossed legs on one of the sleeping bags, eyes a little wide as you heard rumble after rumble of thunder. “It’s really pouring out there.” He said as he sat down beside you, trying to ease you a little. “I don’t remember going into this bunker since... I don’t even remember.” You admitted, taking in a deep breath. “It’s... Scary.” “What is, the bunker?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You pursed your lips. “No... I guess... It’s scary not knowing what’s going to happen. We can be here and think we’re safe, but the whole house can fall on us and then poof... We’re gone. That’s scary.” You swallowed at the thought. Jungkook nodded, understanding what you meant. “I think... Death isn’t meant to be scary. It’s the not knowing that is scary.” He said, and you looked at him, watching him look ahead as if rearranging his thoughts. “Some believe in heaven and hell, others believe in reincarnation, I think it’s all in an effort to give them some peace, fear death a little less.” He nodded, and you brought your knees to your chest. “What do you believe in?” You asked, resting your cheek on your knees, looking at him. He thought for a few seconds, nibbling on his lower lip. “I don’t know. I want to believe that when we die... We go to a place where all our loved ones are waiting for us, where we find peace and we can choose to either live in peace or go back and do it all over again.” He looked at you. “But I can’t really believe in that when I’m just as terrified of dying as I am of being alive.” His brows furrowed and so did yours. “Like... What if I die alone? What if I die forgotten somewhere, in the cold, all by myself? What if I die knowing that I accomplished so many financial things in life but not... Emotional? No one to love, no one to be loved by. That terrifies me.” “Not being loved?” You asked, and he shook his head. “Dying as alone as I lived.” And that hit you like a ton of bricks. You and Jungkook were so alike it was really frightening. You were also alone, having conquered so many things in life. With your own business, money, success. But at the end of a busy day, you went home and you were alone. Alone with yourself and your silence. And you didn’t notice until now how lonely you were. “At least here... If anything happens, I know I won’t die alone. I’ll die with my childhood best friend and honestly, someone I really want to get to know better.” He looked at you again with a smile and you never felt so comforted. Your grandmother didn’t die alone. Even if you had spent most of your years away from her, even if you had only come back to this town to hold her hand one last time before she took her final breath. You were there, and so were her friends. She wasn’t alone. And even if you didn’t know what happened after, you’d like to believe that she was with your father and mother, hugging each other again, your grandmother filling them in on how well you had grown up. Smiling fondly back at him you both were quiet for a while, still hearing the thunder outside, but now it was less scary to you. “I think we have some cards here somewhere.” You said standing up and rummaging through a drawer, Jungkook threw his head back with a grunt. “Ugh, thank god, I was already starting to think we were going to die of boredom down here.” He chuckled, and you scoffed. “Good to know my company bores you, Jungkook.” You found the pack of cards making your way back to the pile of blankets you had made. “Please, you’re far from boring. If anything you’re really fucking interesting. Really proud of who you grew up to be, even if you can be a heartless bitch that wants to sell her childhood home so it can become a strip club.” He quirked a brow with a teasing grin and you slapped his arm. “Oh, shut up. I’m not sure I’m going to sell the house anymore, I might have other plans.” You said without looking at him, taking the cards out. “Do you know how to play poker?” You asked flashing him a grin. He raised a brow. “Can we make it interesting?” And you squinted at him with his lazy smirk that made you tingle. “Is it something kinky?” You asked with a tilt of your head. “Definitely.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes before giving in. “Fine, whatever, you pervert.” If you had known Jungkook was this good at poker, you probably wouldn’t have agreed on making it strip poker, because now you were in your bra and panties, no socks on and he was only but socks and shirt down. You want to blame your loss on his exposed chest, your eyes unable to focus on anything other than his ripped abs, but in reality, Jungkook was just really good at poker and his annoying cocky smirk and those strong arms draped over his legs only made you more annoyed ― and turned on. “Royal flush. Lose the bra.” He set his cards down giving you a very pointed look. Your mouth fell agape because you really weren’t expecting this at all. For a second, you thought about ending the game, but the way his eyes roamed down your half-naked body really made heatwaves rush down your spine. Placing your cards down, you let your tongue flick over your lower lip, his eyes didn’t miss that as he watched your hands move to your back to unclasp your bra. There was a look of anticipation in his eyes, glossy lids focused on your chest as you let the straps fall down your shoulders, your eyes focused on him before you slowly peel the undergarment off, exposing your perked nipples. His jaw clenched at the sight of your exposed breasts, eyes moving all over to take them in, and there was a slow almost shaky exhale coming from him, making you pant slightly. The sexual tension in the air was as thick as the rumbling clouds in the sky. You were almost bare for him, and he loved that. Loved that he was getting the chance to see you, all for himself. You leaned back on your hands, your breasts arching forward, bouncing slightly and there was almost an animalistic growl bubbling in him. “Take off your panties.” He breathed out, commanded, asked, you really didn’t care. There was no game anymore, that you knew for sure, and one single hand moved down to tug at the side of your underwear gently, pushing it down before you pushed the other side, sliding it down your legs. You let the fabric rest along with your bra, your heat still covered by your thighs before you bent your knees up to your chest, looking at him with lust-filled eyes. You loved the way he was looking at you, with so much want and so much desire it almost clogged your lungs. And he waited patiently, his own chest slightly heaving up and down before you slowly parted your legs for him to see all of you. Fully bare and spread for him. “Fuck.” He cursed out, and you knew that if he didn’t swallow thickly, his mouth would have pooled with drool. You could feel his heavy gaze fixed on your heat and you knew he could see it glisten as the candles flickered. “Fuck, please, please can I touch you?” He breathed out, one hand already placed on the blankets in front of him, ready to crawl to you. The desperation in his voice almost made your hands falter. “Yes, yes, do anything you want with me.” You spoke out just as breathless. And before you even had a chance to breathe back in, he was on you. Slotted right between your legs and hungry, desperate mouth on yours, you whimpered into his mouth, tongue flicking out to find his. He tasted so divine, so heavenly and you let yourself lay back on the blankets as he kissed you like it was the last time. Passionate, tender even, but messy and wet. He grunted against your lips as his hips rolled into your slit, you could feel the outline of his hardened length against your bare heat and your eyes rolled back at the delicious rub. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in between his locks. They were still wet. But you were less focused on that, and rather focused on his hot breath against your lips, sweet taste on your tongue, and the way his body rolled into you so expertly. He pulled away only to latch them onto your neck, kissing and sucking harshly at your skin, probably leaving bruises in his path down your body. He didn’t relent when he met your breasts, sucking one perked nipple into his mouth with a deep vibrating groan that rippled down your body, sending shivers down your spine. You arched into his mouth, whimpering softly as little shocks of pleasure shot straight to your core. “Jungkook.” You whimpered out and his brows furrowed, hips rolling into you harder as he let your nipple go with a lewd pop. “Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that, sounds so perfect.” He whispered against your skin, moving his lips down your middle, kissing just below your navel and you know where he’s headed, already parting your legs further for him. “Good girl.” You barely catch the whispered praise, but as you do, you feel your cheeks blushing furiously, heart picking up in rate. A loud moan rips right out of you, fingers gripping at the blankets once you feel his mouth wrap around your nub. He sucks it into his mouth softly, tongue swirling around and under it, making you choke out whimpers and moans at the intense pleasure. If anything, he seemed like a fucking pro, letting your nub free only to flatten his tongue, dipping the tip into your aching entrance before lapping up your slit to suck your clit right back into his mouth with a deep groan in his chest. Your arousal was all over him, lips, chin, tongue. And you loved how messy it looked, how completely hungry he seemed to be buried in your cunt. The soft sucks to your clit became more frequent, tongue swirling it around inside his mouth and you let out a high pitched whimper, signaling he was at the perfect spot. Jungkook was a good listener, and he was adamant in making you cum, more than once. He sucked harder and harder, both hands moving to spread your legs wider, thumbs so close to the edges of your entrance as he spread it open, the ache becoming more unbearable as it stretched slightly. With just a few more sucks you let your head fall back and back arch off the blankets, legs shaking violently before a hard wave of pleasure washed down your body. Vision flashing white and extremities tingling, you couldn’t feel your legs. Your empty core clenched around nothing and he could feel it with the edge of his thumbs so close to your entrance. He sucked softly again, riding your orgasm before he pulled away completely, only peppering small kisses over your swollen clit, watching you flinch slightly in overstimulation. You finally relaxed, back meeting the blankets once again and droopy eyes searching for him as you felt him crawl up over your body. The lazy smirk accompanied by cum coated lips and chin was way more than you were prepared for and you whined at the sight, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He only chuckled, pulling away to tease you. “You taste like fucking heaven.” He whispered, still pulling away every time you tried to catch his lips. “Would you like to taste yourself, sweetheart?” You nodded with a pout and he leaned in, tongue breaching your lips as he kissed you slowly, sensually, letting your cum coat your tongue as well, and you whimpered at your taste, making him pull away with a groan. “Fuck, I want to taste you more, please?” He asked, brows furrowed and your hand moved down in between your bodies to cup his hard bulge. Palm rubbing at it back and forth. His eyes fluttered as he let his head fall at the delicious rub of your palm. “I want your cock.” You whispered, and he took in a deep breathe, exhaling shakily. “Please? Please, Jungkook, please?” You begged, breathy voice, a little hoarse from your loud moans, and who the fuck was he to deny you of anything at this point. He was completely under whatever spell you had on him. He pushed his sweats down along with the black brief boxers he had under and his cock sprung up to hit against his stomach. You were right. He surely didn’t disappoint in the downstairs department. If anything, he was impressive. Thick and long, large veins adorning his hard length, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He was massive. You even questioned if you could take him at all, and the slight doubt on your face had him chuckling. “We’ll go slow, I promise.” He said in reassurance before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed slowly, and you felt your entrance stretch around him just as slow, the first inches were the hardest part, and once you felt that “pop” from his tip it was smooth sailing from there, your core stretching around his thick girth with a slight burn, he grunted as he slowly bottomed out, stilling as he panted, resting his forehead on yours, being careful not to press his wound onto you. “Can I move, sweetheart?” He asked softly, clearly strained, his hands moving to find yours, interlocking his fingers with yours right beside your head. You nodded at him, feeling so full your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl.” He said a little louder this time, pulling out only to roll his hips into you with a breathless groan. The praise along with the thrust had your core clenching around him, making him hiss at the tight fit. “Fuck, so good.” He breathed out, starting a slow, steady grind of his hips in and out of you, cock twitching so deep inside, you could feel him in your cervix. “H-harder.” You whispered and Jungkook snapped his hips into you without warning, eliciting a loud, high-pitched moan from you. “Like that, baby?” He questioned, moving his lips to the shell of your ear. You whined and he let out an airy chuckle, biting down on his lower lip as he pulled back only to snap them forward harder this time. Your body bucked with each hard snap of his hips, his hands moving from yours to rest beside your head, hold himself up as the other moved to wrap gently around your neck, your entrance clenched harder at it. “Oh, what a surprise.” He breathlessly teased. “The heartless bitch likes to be fucked like a whore.” And you wish you were mad at it, but truly, you did. You liked it rough and dirty just as much as you liked it slow and passionate. “Good thing I’m a pro at it.” He gave you that cocky smirk before he started a relentless pace into you, hips snapping so hard your breasts bounced with each powerful thrust, feeling him hit deep into your core over and over. “Such a sweet girl...” He spoke as he fucked you, grip tightening around your throat. “Making mud pies, playing hide and seek and getting fucked by her childhood friend in the basement of her childhood home, full fucking circle.” He snapped them hard with a grunt, making you reach out to latch your nails to his shoulders. “That’s it, baby, feel my cock deep inside of you, feel it drag in and out of that sweet, tight cunt. Feel every ridge, every vein, make yourself cum all over it like you do with those pathetic toys.” He growled out. You already expected Jungkook to be a dirty talker, you just didn’t expect him to be this fucking good at it. “Just like that, yeah? Fuck, if it were for me you’d never use a fucking toy again, only my cock, I’d fill you up every fucking second of the day, creaming this tight pussy over and over as if it was made for me.” You clenched tight as his grip tightened, feeling your second high already creeping in on you. God, he was so good. “Fuck, scratch that, this little pussy was made for me, you’re all mine, all fucking mine.” He closed his eyes, getting lost in the sensations of your tight, hot walls hugging his length, deliciously rubbing against his cock as he fucked into you again and again. “Say it.” His strained out breathy voice blurted out, and you didn’t need him to explain to know. “I-I’m y-yours, Jungkook, all y-yours.” You were sure you had broken skin by now, your nail digging and scratching as you felt your high approach you at an unforgiving speed. “That’s a good fucking girl.” And there it was, the praise again. And that alone seemed to send your high ripping through your body aggressively. Choked out sobs and shaking body making you unable to think and even Jungkook was surprised when you came, holding you in place as you let it wash over you, blinding your vision and making the slide of his cock even more smooth. The choked out broken whimpers and moans were music to his ears as he felt you clench over and over around his length, his brows furrowing as he concentrated on the feeling while helping you ride your second high. He slowed his unforgiving pace back down to a slow grind of his cock, the hand around your throat moving to interlock your fingers again as the other one gently soothed you, clearing the wild locks away from your face, he shushed your quiet sobs as he leaned down to kiss the tears― even you didn’t know you let fall down ― away. It was so tender, so gentle, you weren’t used to that from someone that was only but a one time lover. But was Jungkook only but a lover? He was your childhood friend. And sure, it had been a long time since you had seen him, and to some people that would make you strangers, but you weren’t strangers, in fact, you knew each other very well. He knew that you chewed on your lower lip when you were nervous. You knew that his eyes went wide and dear-like when he was surprised. He knew that you hated storms and the rain. And you knew that he had always protected you since you were kids. His brows were furrowed as he rested his forehead against yours again, you could tell he was close, could tell he was only savoring the pleasure as his lips parted to let out a low, deep whimper of his own. His eyes opened to look straight at you, it was so personal. So intimate. And right when he was there at the edge, he leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, uncoordinated kiss as you felt his cock twitching inside of you, spilling his hot cum deep within. His breath was so harsh an aggressive coming from of his nose and he couldn’t kiss you for long as groan after groan left him and he came. Fuck, he was even hotter when he came. You were doomed. It took him a few minutes before he finally stopped. Breathing harshly before he rolled off of you, laying beside you. You both went quiet for a few minutes, only catching your breaths before he turned his head to you, a lazy smile spread on it. “Told you so.” He let out a cocky smirk. “You’re outrageous.” You scoffed at him and he reached out, pulling you flush against his side. You rested your head on his damp chest, both of you flushed and fucked out. There was a quiet moment where you both just looked at it each other, it was as if time stops, as if everything made sense right there, right at that moment. It felt like home. He felt like home. Just like this house. Peaceful. And if death was anything like this, you’d gladly die. “I know this is really weird... But I really feel like telling you I love you right now.” He admitted with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bopping. Your heart did something you weren’t aware it could do. “Maybe it’s the after-sex haze, but I really feel like saying it back.” You said too, cheeks blushing slightly at your admittance. “I love you.” He whispered out. And you were surprised by how it didn't feel weird, by how it didn’t sound foreign. It was as if you heard it a thousand times before, but also as if it were the first time and truly, it was. But it felt... Real. “I love you.” You said it back and his lips spread into a wide smile. Maybe he felt it too, felt how familiar it sounded, how... Fitting it was. And maybe it wasn’t love at all, maybe it was just the afterglow of sex and that was ok, you’d both deal with it later. Right now you just wanted to bask in this feeling, nothing outside really mattered. Not even the rumbling of the thunder still roaring in the sky. “God, I suddenly feel really fucking tired.” He huffed out, and you chuckled. “You can sleep if you want.” You said but Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his once damp skin suddenly turned ice cold against you and you gasped. “Jungkook?” You called, but he still had his brows furrowed, his lips suddenly changing shades. You sat up, looking down at his naked body, he was shaking, trembling so violently it felt like he was possessed. His skin had turned pale even under the yellow glow of the candles. And you watched the gauze on his head turn crimson red, taking over the whole thing. “Jungkook!” You called louder, but the boy only moaned as if in pain. Reaching out for the gauze, your fingers brush his hair. They were soaked, dripping onto the blankets as if he was right under pouring water. Your eyes bulged, so confused at what was happening. “Y-Y/N?” He called out your name and your trembling hands cupped his ice-cold face. “Jungkook? I’m here, I’m right here, tell me what’s happening!” You desperately asked. His eyes opened slightly, and you felt like you were breaking into a million pieces at the pure sadness in them. “Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone.” He whispered out, and you were even more confused at his statement. Desperately trying to understand but not wanting to stay still, turning your back to him, you hurridly got dressed, looking through the drawers desperatly for something to clean his wound, and just as you turned back to him there was no one there. Your eyes bulged, your heart racing. What was happening? What was going on? You looked at the door, it was still sealed shut, there was no way he could have gotten up and opened it in the state he was. There was no way you wouldn’t have heard him! “Jungkook?!” You called for him as you made your way up the stairs and out of the basement. You roamed the house, desperation laced in your voice, on your face in the tears that― unknown to you ― streamed down your face. You looked for his clothes that you put to dry in the laundry, there was nothing there. But the food was there, you ran to the mirror and his marks were there. Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone. That was what he had said. And even if nothing made sense right now, even if reason and logic weren’t on your side, your brain worked at full capacity, head aching, throbbing, knees falling to the floor as your hands came in between your hair. You wanted to scream. What was happening, what was happening, what did he mean? I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere... Your eyes bulged at the memory, maybe... Just maybe that’s where Jungkook was. Maybe he had gone back for his car, maybe... Just maybe you weren’t going insane. The storm roared outside, the hurricane now at its peak, but something inside you roared louder, no matter how crazy you felt. You didn’t even bother to put on your shoes, grabbing your car keys and going out in the absolute havoc of a storm, soaking wet and shivering cold you got in your car with a struggle as the wind was strong against you. Turning the engine on, it took a few turns and a few punches to your wheel for it to finally come to life. You were a good driver, but in these conditions, even the most skilled driver could die. You didn’t care, something deep inside of you screamed that you were running out of time. You drove in the pouring rain and wild aggressive wind unable to properly see as you sobbed uncontrollably trying to remember where the secluded road was. It was a shortcut people always took when they wanted to get from the farms back to town quicker instead of taking the highway. It was also up a mountain with a lot of trees. Bumpy roads and slippery, muddy tracks. You drove regardless, making your way up the mountain road, mud making your tires turn falsely here and there, but you relented, and you drove, cursing out loudly. “Where the fuck are you?!” You screamed before you saw on the horizon a black car, clumped down the hill a little, the front smashed straight into a tree, you drove until you were close enough, sprinting out of your car as you ran to his. “Jungkook!” You screamed as you reached the driver’s door. The windows were shattered, rain falling into the car and there he was, unconscious, the cut still very much there, unattended in the same clothes you had met him in. You tried opening the door, but it seemed jammed. And you screamed in frustration as you hit the car a few times before trying again, pulling as hard as you could, kicking the sides to try to make it budge. Your free hand moved to grip at the edge of the shattered window, broken glass digging into your flesh, but you were filled with adrenaline and dread, pure dread. Jungkook was dying. You gave all you had until you finally felt the door budge, swinging open and almost throwing you back. You stumbled in the hard rain, the wind blowing so hard against you, you felt like you could fly away as you reached into the car, undoing his seat belt before wrapping your arms around his middle. You were small compared to Jungkook. And even if now you were questioning if anything that had happened in the last day was real or just some sort of feverish dream, you knew he was heavy, you pulled him out of the car with a lot of effort, grunting as he flopped down on the muddy floor. You leaned over him, seeing his lips blue, his cut still very much bleeding. Your shaking hands reached for his pressure point, searching for a pulse and you concentrated, feeling it so faint against your fingers. He didn’t have much time. You dragged him to your car, slipping as you used all your force to get him there, but somehow you did, somehow you were able to open your back seat and push him inside. You didn’t even know you had it in you. And fuck did you drive. You drove fast, knowing it took at least ten to twenty minutes from the secluded road to the town hospital, and in this weather, it was harder to drive up the mountain, but you did, you drove fast and relentless and once you made it to the hospital it all happened too fast. The nurses and doctors rushing to pull Jungkook out of the car, lay him on the stretcher. Your bloody hand wiping your hair out of your face as you followed them in. But you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear the questions, you couldn’t hear the shouts. All you could see was Jungkooks’ almost lifeless body, so pale and fragile. Fuck... You... You kissed him. You touched him, didn’t you? You... You said you loved him. Was it your imagination? How... How would you imagine this, how would you imagine where he was, that he was hurt? It didn’t make sense to you. “Miss! How long has he been unconscious?!” The nurse yelled, taking you out of your racing thoughts. “Since... Around seven pm yesterday.” You mumbled out, still walking with them, watching them put wires, tubes, oxygen on him. That’s all you could really think, that Jungkook was never really there, that he had been unconscious in his car since the moment he knocked on your door. “Are you his wife, family?” She asked, and you shook your head. “I’m... I’m his childhood friend.” You almost couldn’t speak. “I’m going to have someone take a look at your hand, you’re going to have to stay here.” And just like that, he was gone. Past the double doors. You waited. Even after someone had come and sutured your hand, you waited, soaked, cold. You waited, even after you saw Jungkook’s father storm in between the hospital doors. Even after he had spoken to you, thanked you for saving his son after all these years. You waited until the storm was gone, nothing but a light breeze and scattered leaves outside on the wet asphalt. You waited until he woke up and the nurse had told you he didn’t remember you. You waited until his father said that he didn’t feel comfortable having someone he hadn’t seen in sixteen years wait for him at the hospital. He didn’t remember. Of course, he didn’t remember. Jungkook was stuck unconscious in a car for 24 hours and you? You were visited by someone, something urging you to save his life. And you didn’t really spend any more time wondering if it was really him, perhaps his spirit, perhaps his consciousness. You didn’t even waste your time wondering why you. Wondering why put you through something so painful, no matter what it was. In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Jungkook was safe, alive. And whatever supernatural thing had happened that allowed you to save him... You were thankful. Two weeks had gone by since everything. The house extremely quiet as you packed your grandmother’s things slowly, not one drop of rain to keep you from doing anything at all. In the end, you had moved all of her things to the attic, deciding to maybe spend some time here, take a break from work. You didn’t allow yourself to think about Jungkook or try to explain what had happened. You had spent the first few nights crying yourself to sleep as nothing made sense, but the excruciating pain still haunted you. It hurt that he didn’t remember. Sighing as you looked at the rough drawing of the renovations you wanted to make to the house in front of you, you reached for your mug of coffee. The afternoon sun coming through the windows and making the whole place seem cozy. You were also baking some cookies, deciding to keep the house as you remembered it. Something always in the oven. And you had tried a new recipe, vegan. Testing out to see if they worked, if they would taste as good as... You brushed the thought away, focusing on the paper in front of you. It was three loud knocks that brought you out of your thought. You wondered if it were perhaps a neighbor, or maybe even the delivery boy coming to bring you the groceries you had called earlier for. But you gasped once you opened the door. “Jungkook.” You whispered out, surprise and dread written all over your face. He looked just a good as he did that day. The cut on his head now almost healed completely. “Uh, hey. Y/N, right?” He sounded shy, hesitant. One hand coming to rub the back of his neck. But the way he had said it only made your heart break, he really didn’t remember. “I was heading back to town, but... My dad told me that you were the one that saved my life so... I wanted to stop by to thank you, I guess. This is really awkward for me.” He nervously said. “Y-you’re Y/N, right?” “You seriously don’t recognize me, Jungkook?” You swallowed the lump in your throat, repeating the same words he had said to you that day. “I’m sorry, it’s... It’s been a really long time. You look really different.” He pursed his lips. “Y-yeah, that’s me... And... There r-really is no need to thank me. I’m glad you’re s-safe and ok.” You swallowed harder, nodding at him. Jungkook swallowed before he took in a deep breath, brows furrowing right after as his nostrils flared. “Are you baking cookies?” He smiled, hands coming into his pockets. He was more relaxed now it seemed. You pursed your lips, a soft smile spreading on them. “Would you like to come in and try them? They’re vegan.” The end. N/a: Now that you read it, yes, it’s based of Charlie St. Cloud. I freaking LOVE that movie. I hope you enjoyed this fic! <3

#jungkook #jk #jeon jungkook #fic #imagine #reader #oc #y/n #themfchase #bts #bangtan #mature #smut #ghostau #supernaturalau #kssmutclub #btssmutcentral #btsmutcentral #btsnetwork #smutcentralnet

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 4 years

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Ain’t Family Great? ~ Lucifer Morningstar x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: You have come from a very religious household, and they don’t take too kindly when they heard that you are dating someone literally named the devil.

Author’s Note: I literally got this idea from seeing a dialogue prompt on Pinterest, and it just spiraled out of control.

Trigger Warning: Curse words, some innuendos, biblical literalism, religious talk (It is Lucifer)

You were a friend and coworker of Chloe Decker, you mostly worked in the background doing research and gathering the data on the criminals and suspects of the cases your unit was working on. That is how you met Lucifer, Chloe asked you to gather information on two main suspects on a case she was working on and Lucifer was lingering on in the background.

When you gave Chloe the information you gathered and she left, Lucifer piped up, “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you before” “That’s because I mostly work on research stuff for cases, so I do a lot of the office work and investigative work that requires me to be in a chair for the whole day. My name’s (Y/N), Chloe’s mentioned you before,” you replied with a small smile. “Ah I hope not all of them are terrible, even if I am the Devil I like to think I have a certain amount of charm,” he said with a smirk.

That’s when you first heard him call himself the devil, and if you were honest with yourself you were always curious about his name: Lucifer Morningstar.

You grew up in an extremely religious household, which at times felt like you were suffocating from the relentless biblical literalism that was upheld in your house. You were always curious about the Devil in the biblical stories and you always found the quote by Mark Twain interesting if read in a certain context otherwise it’ll sound like an angsty emo kid trying to be philosophical.

There was an instance where you were on a case with Chloe and Lucifer, and the killer had said, “Oh, you know that phrase? The devil made me do it? It felt like that”

You let out a light snort at that as you immediately responded, “The devil didn’t make you do anything. Your poor impulse control and anger management, and might I add quite a horrid spectacle of internet history could certainly be a bad combination to make you do something.”

After the case, Lucifer was very curious about your statement towards the killer as you guys headed to a cafe to get some lunch together, he asks, “Why were you so against the man using that phrase? I mean I hate it because it is so demeaning, I’ve got better things to do.”

You shrugged as you sipped your beverage and responded, “I don’t know, maybe it’s partly because of my very religious family which I have realized how much bullshit I was forced to listen to since I was born, so I guess I grew to have sympathy for the devil.” “Oh really?” Lucifer’s small smile grew to a smirk as he leaned forward, Chloe swatted him to move back.

“Not you. I don’t know you, but one of my favorite quotes about the devil is from Mark Twain,” you commented. “I don’t think I have,” he continued to have that smirk on his face. He was very handsome but he was so goddamn annoying, you thought. “Well, it goes: ‘Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?’ Like, there’s this whole thing about redemption in the Bible and catholicism but does the Devil ever get the chance to get his redemption? No, I think God wanted a scapegoat and he got it from a rebel,” you ranted.

Lucifer looked shocked for a moment but gathered his posture and said, “Well, you thought about this quite a bit. I assume because of your family?” You just shrugged at first, took a sip from your drink, then nodded. “Their family is very strict, I thought my family was weird but they got me beat, ” Chloe informed him.

“They stopped talking to me, they didn’t think that I was enough for them. It hurt at first but y’know as time moves on I figured that I have better things to do than wallow in my past, so I realized I needed help so I got therapy and now I’m here,” you surmised. “Family is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? Filling us with traumas and issues since we were created,” Lucifer commented.

Time has passed between that first case with Lucifer and Chloe, now whenever they needed an extra pair of eyes they’d call on you to help with them. It was an interesting dynamic that you and Lucifer had developed over the weeks that you were going with them on cases. You were able to talk about literally anything with Lucifer, he made you feel comfortable which is odd since his persistence on him calling himself the Devil. By him associating himself with it, you thought he was supposed to be like an actual bad guy, but gauging his reaction to your conversation about your first case with them, you made a realization that because of his name people treat like the actual devil.

One day, you went through your mail in the apartment lobby and spotted a letter that was from your hometown, and another one with the return address being your parents’ house. ‘The hell is this?’ you thought.

When you opened the first one you found a wedding invitation that your cousin was inviting you to, you were actually pretty close with this cousin, she was really chill and she understands the conservative and religious household you used to live in. The second one was your parents’ basically condemning you from being at your cousin’s wedding, and that pissed you off. You were a grown adult, you would be damned if you’d let your parents try to control you anymore.

You decided to go out to LUX, because if there is one person who understands controlling parents it was Lucifer and maybe he’d be able to give you the extra courage you need to stand up to your parents. You had on your favorite party outfit, and when you entered the club you could feel the thrum of energy and the bass of the music go straight to your heart. As you walked to the bar you spotted Maze whom you’ve met before when you came here out of Lucifer’s request, you waved her over.

“What can I get for you?” She asked. “I’m sure you know what’s the best drink here, so I’ll leave that to you,” you said. You turned around to just watch the crowd and started to get a little nervous about the idea of going back to your hometown for the wedding, you love your cousin but hate your parents. So, you were at a bit of a crossroads with this. While you were watching the crowd you saw Lucifer come up to you with a big grin on his face.

“Well, hello (Y/N) this is a surprise. What brings you here?” Lucifer beamed.

“I actually came here to see you, to ask for advice,” you replied.

“A horrible decision really,” he smirked.

“My cousin invited me to her wedding but my parents know and basically condemned me from going to the wedding, and I’m unsure of whether to just stay here in L.A. or to go to the wedding and just be resilient against what my parents’ might say to me,” you said crossing your arms and rubbing them back and forth.

“Well, that sounds like quite a situation you got yourself in”

“I know, that’s why I am asking what I should do?”

“You know I’m all about that rebellion against parental figures, so I say go to the wedding and have a good time, your parents be damned. In fact, I would never say no to a party, so I could come up with you,” he added with a wink.

“Would you like to be my plus one? But please don’t start anything with my parents,” you begged him.

“I thought you’d never ask, and I can’t promise you that,” he smirked.

After, that conversation both of you got ready for travelling out to your hometown and you made sure to bring the outfits that gave you the most confidence in yourself because you knew that you’d need that.

You admitted to yourself a while ago that you had a crush on Lucifer, he was hot as hell, always polite with you, and treated you with genuine interest and respect. You also made a promise to not let your feelings get caught in the middle of your mission. You are going to have a good time at this wedding, congratulate your cousin and just have a good time.

Both of you made it one piece to the hotel that Lucifer somehow booked without your knowledge, because you swore you got a cheap motel room but as you tried to convince Lucifer to let you go to your motel room, he just said, “Are you crazy? I’m the devil for a reason, darling, I got connections everywhere and plus this place is much more spacious. We don’t need to sleep in the same bed if that’s what’s making you uncomfortable.”

“I just thought you would probably be looking for hookups or something and would want your own hotel room for that stuff,” you sputtered.

“Well if that comes to it, I’ll go to their room because I wanted to give you the comfiest place to go back to because I know how family can be,” Lucifer answered.

“That’s really nice of you, y’know for someone insisting he’s the devil you can be really sweet.”

The hotel room was really nice, it had two bedrooms and a large tv screen in front of the dining area. As time moved on and you guys decided to decompress and relax on one bed and decided to just mindlessly watch the tv. You fell asleep and Lucifer watched you for a moment as he realized you were asleep, he put you under the covers and fell asleep next to you.

The next day you woke up to the sunlight hitting your eyes, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and as you took a deep breath in you smelled something delicious. You turned around and saw Lucifer cooking breakfast with his shirt half undone and his hair all curled up.

“Good morning (Y/N), how did you sleep?” Lucifer asked.

“Pretty good, actually,” you answered with a yawn still trying to wake up.

As you both ate breakfast in relative comfortable silence, you looked at your phone and noticed the time. “Shit, we should get ready to go to the church and the party afterwards,” you told him as you got up and went to your suitcase to gather your things.

After what seems like hours to both of you, you managed to get out of the hotel room and to the church. Lucifer dropped you off in front of the church as he wanted to find a parking space for his car. As you waited in front of the church you noticed your parents walking to the church and felt your stomach churn as they were inching closer to you. Your mom looked furious and it was like her whole head was on fire how red it was. Your dad had a more quiet anger to him but you saw the clenched fists and the tightened jaw on him. You put out a little prayer to whoever to get Lucifer faster to you.

“What are you doing here? I thought we told you to not come here,” your mother sneered.

“The last time I checked I am a grown adult and (Y/C/N) invited me to their wedding,” you stated.

“Listen here you bitch, you are a disgrace to this family and that is why we didn’t want you here,” your mother hissed.

Before you could get another word in you heard Lucifer, “Oh there you are, love, I was looking for you.” He kissed the side of your head as he wrapped a hand around your waist and looked at your parents as he continued, “You must be (Y/N)’s parents, I’m her boyfriend, a pleasure to meet you.”

You looked at him a bit surprised and your parents’ faces were that of a gulping goldfish. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar,” he stated.

“Like the devil?” your father said with apprehension in his voice, he made your mom step back behind him.

“Oh, I’m not as bad as the books say, you know,” Lucifer spoke with a wink.

“Quiet, evil one,” your dad sneered.

“Oooh, name-calling so fearsome, “ Lucifer scoffed. He looked towards you as you were just staring at the three of them. “C’mon love, we’ve got a wedding to go to, can’t be late.”

After that encounter the wedding reception went quite beautifully, you may or may not have teared up hearing your cousin and their spouse recite their vows. When you both went to the after-party you both stayed away from your parents and they seemed to have lost interest after that conversation earlier.

A slow dance came on while you were at the bar getting a drink when Lucifer appeared next and offered you his hand. You just raised an eyebrow at him in response and just said, “I thought you weren’t the type for slow dancing?” “Only with the right partner I find it enjoyable,” he smirked with a wink.

You hit him on the chest playfully and replied, “How do you know I’d be the right partner?” you asked. “Ooh I’d figure you’d be good at from the first day I saw you” he quipped. “Okay show me your moves, then,” you replied, taking his hand and walking to the dance floor.

He led most of the dances, keeping you close to his chest with his hand on your back. It was nice, the rhythm of his heartbeat in your ear was very soothing as well as him occasionally humming with the song if he knew, which more often than not he did.

You looked at him and you both started to stare at each other’s eyes. You felt your eyes flutter between his eyes and his lips, he was doing the same to you. His hand cupped the back of your head and he engulfed your mouth with his. You kissed back with as much passion, but as soon as he was kissing you it was over. That kiss left you wanting more and you subconsciously leaned in closer to him.

“Wow” you whispered looking at him. Lucifer just smiled at you for a second. “I hope you wouldn’t mind if you became my real girlfriend then a spontaneous fake one?” he asked. “I would love nothing more Lucifer,” you replied with a huge grin. “Let’s get out of here then, love,” he said as he took your hand and led you out of the building and back to your shared hotel room. This time there didn’t need to be any excuses to sleep next to each other, you just did.

#lucifer #lucifer fox imagines #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer fox x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader

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candy-sticks-zaza-blogs · 1 month

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Redesign him again.

@pisscography Does Alastor wanna hang out? Yes he really does. The pride ring is porpel

#hazbin hotel #redemption motel au #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #alastor #redemption motel x reader

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

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Masterlist

Updated: September 7 2023

Spotify Playlist Links

Blue Means headcanons

@letstalkstories is my blog where I reblog stories I love

Everything is fem!reader unless stated otherwise

* = Smut

Some fics were written years ago. The higher up they are in the list on the individual page, the older they are. I am emotionally attached them and they will be staying. I’m sorry.

Writing Prompts Masterlist

Writing Prompts Masterlist Part 2

Halloween Drabbles and Fics 2021

Halloween Drabbles and Fics 2020

Halloween Drabbles and Fics 2019

Halloween Drabbles and Fics 2018

City Corner Series

Supposed Fiancé Series

————-Full Fic/HeadcanonMasterlists————

American Horror Story

Arcane

The Black Phone

The Boys

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Call of Duty

Child’s Play

Christian Bale Characters

Creepypasta

Criminal Minds

Dead Poets Society

Dexter

Dorian Gray

Dracula

Evil Dead

Friday the 13th

Fright Night

Game Of Thrones

Grand Theft Auto

The Goldfinch

Great Gatsby

Grishaverse

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 4 years

Text

Send me an angel

This is a Castiel Novak x reader one shot.

The wings of a raven had surrounded his form, the color matching his hair. The milky white of skin-matching the moon, his lips usually as bright as a cherry blossom tree, now a beige. You remembered the way they always curled into a smile when he would chuckle as one of Dean's lame jokes, or how if you would win a game of trivia against Sam. You always admired the dark blue eyes twinkling, under the dim glow of the moon in the crappy motel rooms. Dean always had scolded Cas for his prying eyes, although you would encourage it. You saw nothing wrong with his actions, you found it rather relaxing. To know someone will protect you whenever he hears bump in the dark of night. You grew fond of the mysterious creature who observes as if he was a raven watching over their young. You would never confess what you felt, feeling that it was too obnoxious or childish for the angel. You couldn't even bare the thought of what he would say to your confession so you never confessed. Now here you are storming up the stairs and into the nursery. Revenge and redemption on your mind. You didn't care if this was morally wrong hell it was fighting fire with fire, but he caused all this. If he was never to exist then none of it would have happened, your friends, the only family you ever had was almost all gone. Rummaging through every corner and crook you could find for the little bastard. You heard the soft rumble of what sounded like a man's voice sound through your tormented head. "Mother?"

A few days had passed, you came to realize the little bastard wasn't all that little. You had mixed feelings and thoughts about the kid who sat in front of you, eyebrows furrowed, and a scowl on his lips when he no longer understood how to change the channel on Sam's television. You were instructed by Sam to watch the kid while he went to get food. You only obliged with the promise of a large chocolate milkshake. (Those were always rare since the accident in Baby.) You didn't hate the kid. Although you did not like him in the least bit. You were sat on Sam's bed crisscrossed with arms on either side of your ribs, lips huffed in a pout.

You never learned why the good people in the world always had to perish, maybe it is because they were simply too good for the world to comprehend. Especially Cas, he went against his own for the greater good of himself. He knew it was wrong so he did what was right even with some minor, well earth-shattering hiccups in between. You also never knew why he was so persistent on always knowing where you were or what you doing. Maybe it was dumb luck that he wanted to be a possessive friend, he must have learned it from Dean. Sam was Sam, he was the least suffocating but still had his flaws. Like always ruining the end of a book for you whenever it was finally getting good, but none of that matters anymore. Not to jack, not to the banging of the remote being hit against the wall breaking you out of your trance. "Hey!" you shrieked when the remote broke into a billion pieces. Shit. You would never hear the end of this when Sam got home. Bye, chocolate heaven you will be missed but not forgotten.

It was Saturday evening when the hunt was finished, it was tough but the majority of the hunts were easy and a good challenge is needed now and then. This one though it was emotionally draining seeing Dean one of your childhood friends heart stop beating for four minutes straight. "Sam! he said three minutes, three!" panic set in your blood when the hourglass tipped to none. "I know y/n," Sam said quietly trying to keep himself composed. Because he knew as soon as he would lose that composure, he would be like you panicked and throwing sanity out the window as Dean did and look how that turned out for him. You averted your eyes from the now closed-eyed green monster and looked at the glassy-eyed hazel one.

"No." is all he said as he started to slam his clasped fists against Dean's chest where his heart is. He looked like King Kong banging against his chest but against his seem to be dead brother's. "Dammit, Dean." He growled out having enough of his brother's torment. You got up from your stance and walked towards Sams form wiping a few dried tears away from your dirt-stained cheeks. You placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, his muscles stopped tensing and he looked back hair covering his eyes.

You always told him to cut it since he can't see but you should've known from Dean the Winchester's were always a stubborn species. You pulled your hand to his chiseled cheek, the beard coming in prickling your palm, the road life is catching up to him. You tucked a piece of the brown lock behind his ear, you gave him a small gentle smile "Sam.." you let out trying to let him know Dean was gone. "No, he's not you can't say that!" you gave him a look. He shied his eyes away from you and back to the man who did this torture to you both. Sam checked his watch and it clicked to six minutes. He sniffled and slowly started to stand, he turned his back and trudged to the stairs. You were about to follow him when you heard a deep wheeze and coughing behind you.

"I hate you!" you yelled at the eldest Winchester your fists hitting against his chest. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to know that you were angry at him. He just smiled and leaned farther against baby, collected and calm, getting bored with your tangent he grabbed your wrists, arched that eyebrow, then you knew you were in trouble. And that meant nothing good "I know you love me, Sweetheart, now c'mon let's go home." He tilted his head and gave you the puppy dog eyes knowing that your weakness ever since a young age. His calloused hands with years of scars cascading across from them suddenly dug into your skin you tug them free.

"No, listen here Sweetheart," you jutted a finger in his face and you were so proud of remembering that he hated being called his pet name. "One, you will never do that again. That is it! never again or I swear to Chuck, I will skin you and drive Baby to the bottom of the ocean." You growled out his face flustered and taken aback by the sudden endangerment of Baby. You walked past him and tried to open the passenger door, your seat normally being in between the boys, hating the small view you got from the back. "Whatever you say, Darlin'," Dean said with a swift swat to your ass. Dean obviously returned to his old self. You whirled around shocked from the assault done to your rear "Excuse me?!" you shrieked back at Dean. He smirked his tongue in between his teeth getting into the driver's seat, a chuckling Sam behind you his phone in his hand. "Really, you too?" you groaned.

It had been a few hours on the road and your eyes were becoming sore from the number of neon signs you've seen in the past hour. Sam was snoring on your right and Dean was lip-syncing to Take me to paradise city by guns and roses. You assumed that call must have been another hunt since you driving in the opposite direction of the bunker. "You are such a child," you spoke quietly trying to not wake up the sleeping mammoth beside you. You were watching Dean start to ridiculously start headbanging so hard you thought his neck was going to snap. "Where the grass is green," he sang well more screeched out, his Axle Rose impression too high pitched. You clasped your hands over your ears and winced.

"God, it sounds like the angels talking!" you whined. He stopped at a red light. That's a first he leaned over to look at you "Where the girls are pretty!" he slammed his hand on your thigh and you jumped waking up the giraffe beside you. Sam jumped and looked around trying to figure out why in the hell our halfway on his lap, "sorry Sammy, big bump." You raised your eyebrows and smiled sheepishly. He shrugged "It's alright, don't worry about it." He grasped out his voice not keeping up with his brain and went back to sleep. You gave Dean a glare that sent daggers and although it should kill him, he's already dead. He let out a loud hearty laugh and drove on like always.

It was around Midnight, when Dean finally stopped and when you realized you were drooling on Sam's shoulder. Your body giving out from Dean's teasing. It seemed like he stopped in an alleyway by a blue pay phone. A man in a beige trench coat made your brain start. Eyes blurry and not realizing that it was your man in a beige trench coat, but when you did you shoved Sam awake and started screaming. "SAM OPEN THE DOOR, SAM!" you screeched out Sam groaned and opened the door, his body slugging when he got up.

You shuffled your way out of the impala and ran to the front not realizing that this was happening. This had to be just one of your many dreams about the blue-eyed angel. "Cas?" you gently asked questioning your movements, hesitating every step not sure whether this was a trick or not. As he turned eyes squinted and lips pursed he registered that it was you and gave a relieved and half-smile. "Y/n." You're surprised that you didn't trip over your own two feet as you run your way into the literal man of your dreams, you jumped a little because of his height and wrapped your arms around the man's neck. He took a few steps back from the amount of force of your embrace. Although, he wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his head into your neck, missing the smell of your perfume, missing everything about you. "You have no idea how long I waited for this moment." His voice came out muffled but you didn't care, you had your angel back.

Dean would say that was his favorite scene out of a chick flick, he even slowly clapped when you and Cas walked back to the car. You slid into the back wanting to sit with the man of the hour wanting to get all the missed hours back. You watched as Cas gave the boys their hugs and welcome back's you just couldn't help the butterflies that were having a war in your stomach. He was back, like actually back, and you couldn't wait. They started to walk back to the car and Cas flashed you another smile, which certainly did not help the butterflies but more encouraged them. Dean and Sam slid in the front like they have so many times and Dean sent you a wink in the rear view mirror, you rolled your eyes but quickly stopped when Cas slid in.

He looked marvelous for a person who was dead for half a week, he always did you never understood how he was so perfect. Yeah, he was an angel, but angels were such dicks that confused you. But you couldn't have it any way else, and you have jumbled feelings about it yet you loved him. You decided to tell him tonight about how you feel because you will never forgive yourself if you never do. His hand gently and left a feather-light touch against yours, his head turned out to his window, hard to decipher if it was by accident or not. Dammit, Cas, why do you always have to be so clueless about everything? ugh. Frustrated, you had to know so you bottled up all your dignity and grabbed his hand. He was startled and a bit confused but he gripped tighter, his gaze never leaving yours. God, if looks could kill you'd be dead, for sure. His piercing ocean blues casting a stupor over your brain, all your thoughts were on him, and to say you were loving it would be an understatement.

You scooted yourself towards him wanting to get as close to him as you could, his outer thigh pressed against yours. And how that was a major mistake, the butterflies came back 10 times as hard, and apparently, your poker face wasn't as good as you thought. "Are you okay, y/n?" Castiel asked concern on his face, his eyebrows knitted tight and his lips into a frown. Holy shit, you thought you were so close to him that if Dean were to hit a bump you would kiss him and you weren't objecting to that. "Yeah y/n, you doing alright back there?" Dean mocked. Speak of the devil, you could hear the smirk in his voice. Sam shoved him lightly "Leave them alone, Jerk." Dean looked at him in disbelief and might I add a bit of shock "It's a free continent the last time I checked." He growled out proud of himself for his comeback. "It's actually: country," Sam replied smirking, knowing that he's riling up Dean. Dean glared at him, a silent conversation with the demons in his head.

"Bitch." You didn't know how but your face grew an even deeper shade of red, embarrassment maybe, but you'd be lying, you were way past embarrassment, you tried to hide in the polished leather. You hoped it would devour you whole, just so you could escape this abomination of an event. Cas felt your hand begin to dampen his concern furthered so he persisted on to know what was wrong. "Please allow me to help if you're ill, I can help, I do not like it see you this way," Cas asked softly, worried, growing in his tone, gripping your hand tighter. You couldn't help yourself Castiel was an angel form of a puppy, "Dean turn left." you croaked out, you knew the town fairly well, it was around one of your families homes and you requested him to turn into a restaurant. Dean lifted an eyebrow "Why? we're almost home and then you and Cas can finally fu-'' He snarled out. "DEAN PULL IN HERE AND GO GET FOOD YOU HIPPO!"

You screeched and kicked the back of his seat. He did as said and turned left going into the restaurant's parking lot. Once he did he spun around, his arm resting on the back of his seat, if it could his eyebrow raised impossibly higher "Excuse m-" He stopped his sentence halfway. As you raised your foot threatening to kick him if he said another word. Giving up he retreated his hands raised "Alright, alright, use protection at least, okay?" He asked diverting his gaze to Cas and mouthed 'Do what the pizza man taught you.' he smiled and gave a thumbs up and walked inside the restaurant Sam shoved him and shook his head. Second-hand embarrassment seeping into Sam, he felt so regretful for you. Castiel, on the other hand, was dying on the inside as were you, been back for nearly an hour and Dean was already hitting on the girl he liked. He didn't know how or what to say in this type of situation so he did what he did best, he showed you.

Castiel removed his hand from yours ultimately you felt confused did Dean ruin the moment for the both of you or? but your questions were answered when he lifted your chin and ducked his head down, capturing his lips with yours. You were surprised, her eyes lighting up in delight. You were also in another form of excitement when Castiel started to move his lips against yours, his lips chapped and tasted a hint of salt. Perhaps, he got it from his ocean of eyes, you didn't know but what you did know was that you felt the slightest poke of his tongue on your lip. His hand that was once under your chin now rested below your ear, his large hand took up your cheek, you couldn't describe the sensation that was kissing Cas but it was none the less the definition of bliss. Cas didn't understand the fact that your breath was so taken away from the kiss that you had to pull away against your wishes. When you opened your eyes you saw Castiel chasing your lips with his own. His blown-out bright blue eyes now a dark hue. He shuffled back composing himself and removing his hand from your face missing his touch already. "Cas, that was, where did you?" You tried but your brain was too flustered to make out a simple sentence. Cas's face was too unfazed to understand. Did he not like it the way you? Many questions raced through this time none of them had answers and you quieted down the rest of the time you sat alone with the undisclosed man.

The night took you over your dreams once cast to the angel of the sky. You hadn't talked the rest of the night to anyone, you were a little over halfway home disappointed and regretful over how the night turned out. Dean had lecture Castiel almost all the way home over what he did wrong, Sam pitching now and then telling Dean he was overreacting and how ridiculous he was being. It always was Dean rolling his eyes in response. Although, Cas wasn't listening. He was watching your sleeping form exhale and inhale your form twitching now and then saddened at the thought of something torturing such a beautiful creature. Then he thought how it might be him that was causing you trouble, he hoped that wasn't the case.

Baby pulled to a halt, finally reaching the last destination of the night. Cas peering over to you he had managed to peel his eyes away from you to watch the trees whiz past them. Now, once again they are stuck on you, he was so happy to get to admire the soft features of your sleeping face. It was peaceful to him to see the soft glow of the rosy dust on your cheeks, the soft knit in your eyebrows he found you as the sleeping beauty. In his thoughts, he hadn't noticed when Sam nor Dean had slipped out of his grasp, he didn't care though all he currently cared about was you. Sighing he finally came to the conclusion he wouldn't be able to awake you so he must carry you, he would teleport but he couldn't bear it if there was a possibility if there was a chance to wake you. He opened the door and carefully closed the door pressing one hand against the passenger door and closing it. Swearing that he would smite everyone if the creak of the door would wake you.

He slowly walked behind the impala and opened your door cursing at himself when he realized you were laying your head against the door. "Cas, please.." you whimpered out. Confused and a bit taken aback he questioned your dream he could tap in your mind and see exactly what you were dreaming about but he shook his head finding it insensitive to defile your privacy. He thoroughly tucked your head into the ditch of his arm and had to get creative with how he's going to go about your legs. Once he hefted you into a comfortable cradle position he felt satisfied since he could finally support you in some way, and when you tucked your face farther into his chest he couldn't help the small blush that dusted his cheeks as you did.

As he stepped down the black steps he was relieved to find both of the boys to be both in their separate rooms. It was a bit tricky to walk down the stairs with you in his arms but it was worth it when he proudly set you down in your bed, unharmed and as deep in sleep as he once found you. He lets out a huff and sits down in your desk chair before he did so he took off his coat draped it over the chair rolled up his the sleeves of his white undershirt, took off his striped tie, and kicked off his shoes. Happy and content that he can finally relax through a day's work, his gaze finding you again.

Hair having fallen over your face, he couldn't have that he gotten up from his peaceful sitting and sat down where your face was facing the outside of your bed. His eyes took in your gentle face soft eyelashes plump pink bruised lips that he'd kiss only a few hours ago, he felt greedy for wanting to kiss them once more but rather kissed your forehead. He wanted to proclaim all of what he had done to had fallen in love with you how had you made him fallen under your spell, why did he care for you so much that he would take his life to save yours. He lifted his head and softly pressed it against yours, he softly pressed his lips upon yours not as forceful as the one before but one full of love and care. You awoke to that and kissed him back starting to sit up he slowly pushed you down his face soft and eyes glowing as always "I am sorry to wake you, but I must confess to you that I lo-," before he could finish his sentence of confession he was interrupted by the new member of team free will that he wasn't away of. His winced eyes closed in impediment since he couldn't claim of what he felt. "I must go, but I will finish what I had started in the future." He rasped out and with that promise he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips to seal his proclamation and walked out of your sight, and you were glad whatever god that was up there that had answered your prayer of 'send me an angel.'

#castiel x reader #supernatural #castiel x reader fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #Cute and hot at the same time IRTR #fluff #fanfic #xreader #cuteness #cute guy #misha collins hot #castiel novak #castiel novak x reader #jack kline #jack kline x reader

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19mrs-barnes17 · 4 years

Text

Drive-In

Summary: Theme Day One: Drive-in Movie

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: none?

Word count: 1,124

A/N: Here we go! The start of Theme Weekend! Hope you enjoy. (ps. if you can guess the movie you’re my new best friend)

He wasn’t going to lie, the entire situation left him absolutely perplexed. Why sit in a car to watch a film when it can be viewed indoors, with much more comfortable seating. The entire concept seemed rather illogical and quite frankly like a waste of coin. And yet, when he looked into those eyes… well how could he refuse. Don’t get him wrong, Loki hated how you had such power over him and fought it fervently. However, your unintentional grip on his heart was far stronger than he would ever care to admit. And so he found himself reluctantly in a truck with you and doing his best to feign a state of misery. He watches you turn into the lot and calculate a place to park, eyes never leaving you even as you exited the vehicle.

“Come on, I borrowed my cousin’s pick up for this reason.” You lowered the tailgate and climbed into the bed, readying up the space with blankets and pillows.

Your eyes were twinkling beneath the lights, only growing increasingly excited as the sun faded behind the wooden fence. As the screen took on the rays of light and color everything else seemed to fade away. Nothing was left but the movie and the stars, the feeling of her head on his shoulder and tightness in his chest. Though Loki would rather die than fall so easily, it seemed he never had a choice in the matter.

Loki was by no means suddenly on the right side of history, he still did most anything his heart desired. But in light of all that has happened, the reconnection between he and Thor and the loss of their home world… Well, he was beginning to see another path. This did not mean he was taking it, however, though many would wish that he did. But it was there, beginning to form before his eyes.

You had seen the movie before, it was one of your old favorites, so instead of watching every scene you opted to throw the occasional glance at Loki. Somehow watching someone you liked watch your favorite movie was thrilling. If he liked it, that boded well for you. His eyes soon became glued to the screen, brow furrowing as he watched the villain win. The man was now invested in the storyline, always seeming to pull back when it became comedic again. However, the moment it began to shift he was once more drawn to it. You would give anything to know what was going through the guy’s head right then and there.

He was baffled. Pure and simple. How is it that the man got all he had wanted, and it wasn’t enough? Honestly Loki felt he could do better, eyeing the screen with disbelief. It was a clever trick, one he had not expected from a hero. If he was being honest he was rooting for the new villain, that is until he reached the film's climax. A villain ended up with someone? It seemed preposterous to him. The accuracy of the relationship crumbling to pieces once the woman saw him for who he truly was, was an understatement. He had ruled out romance entirely, never once giving it another thought until now. It was a silly children’s film. And yet, it was one you loved. Which meant you either hated the ending or you thought redemption and a villain falling in love was probable. If the former? Then you were cynical but realistic. If the latter? Then you had your head in the clouds on an impossible dream. Either way he had to know.

“Why do you love that movie?” The pair of them had been driving for a few minutes in silence, her eyes glancing over at Loki as he spoke. “The ending seemed quite improbable.”

“I love a good redemption arch.” A soft smile stretched across her lips as she shrugged slowly, her eyes twinkling under the passing streetlights.

Loki sat back in his seat and let his eyes stare blankly out the window for the trip, his mind calculating the next move. He knew he cared for you, though he really wished he didn’t, and he knew that you saw good in him. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he saw it in himself. Loki was barely allowed in the avengers facility, only allowed to leave when accompanied. Thor had convinced his friends that Loki was less of a threat if they were able to keep an eye on him. This was where he had met you, the only one who seemed to still see a glimmer of hope. Whatever it was in you that detected it, no other possessed. Without fail you were the one who took him outside, and not just to town. When you took him beyond those walls, you planned things out and made sure to include him in decision making. Of course you of all people believed in redemption.

The rain was falling heavily, so much so that you had to pull into the nearest motel and call in an emergency extension of the outing. Natasha was the one to pick and she was not pleased about you staying in a room with Loki overnight, but you convinced her that it would be just fine. Two rooms were left, one with a single bed and the other with two. You sighed in relief and paid for the double room, your gaze occasionally flickering between the man behind the desk and Loki in the car. If not for it being a motel the room would have been fairly nice, but Loki seemed to not be thrilled about sharing a room.

“As much as I would love to give you your own room, because where would you even run… I’m not about to buy out three beds for that luxury.” You laughed, placing your bag on the bed nearest to the door before unpacking a change of clothes and heading to the shower.

You had forgotten your razor and silently cursed yourself as you had already stripped down, placing a towel around yourself before running to get it. The moment it was in your hands it hit you. You were not alone and there was a pair of stunned eyes upon your practically bare form which felt like a million. For some reason your brain had left the building and you looked him dead in the eye like a deer in headlights, he seemed to smile incredulously. It was a small smile but you could tell and it set you back in motion. You muttered the words forgot and razor with crimson cheeks before speed walking back into the bathroom.

This was going to be a long night.

Tags: @qtmeryr @broken-hearted-barnes @asphalt-cocktail @cantnkrusshedevil @gstran18

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#marvel #loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #theme day one #400 celebration #requested #kayla answers

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supernaturalthisfanfic · 5 years

Text

Who prays for Lucifer?

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Word Count: 2537

Warnings: mentions of alcoholism

A/N: ok so funny story. I started writing this in 2016 and I finally finished it, 3 years later. Anyways, here it is. I’m kinda rusty but I’m really proud of this one so ENJOY!

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Imagine the reader runs into Lucifer at the bar and has a heartfelt moment and tells Dean, Sam, and Cas later, “But who prays for Lucifer? Who, in the past eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it the most?”

The familiar smell of liquor and nicotine hit me the moment I stepped into the bar. The mix had become a comforting scent, one signaling me to relax. Visiting the bar had become a habit I’d developed. Not a safe habit for a hunter to have, but one therapeutic enough to numb some of the emotions I tried my best not to feel. My dad was a deadbeat alcoholic and now here I was following in his footsteps. Oh, the irony. It wasn’t meant to be this way but I felt like I had to drink in order to forget. I was never good enough for the old man. I was always one step behind on all our hunts. I was always making trouble. I was the black sheep of the family, the girl no one cared for or looked after. I was always on my own.

I had Sam and Dean now, whom I was so thankful for. They took me in about 2 years ago and they treated me like family. They were nothing like my real family, if I could even call them that. They cared for each other and looked out for one another. The things they did in order to keep the other safe was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I’d even seen them die for each other, more than a few times. It was strange at first, but I slowly became more comfortable around them, learning what it was like to be a part of something bigger. Dean always told me, “Family don’t end with blood, kiddo.” I think he got it from an old family friend. Robby? Bobby? I can’t remember right now. But even then, sometimes it wasn’t enough. The childhood trauma I went through wasn’t something I could just get over so quickly. Sam and Dean knew this and they understood me, which is why they gave me my space every once in a while. They let me work through whatever I needed to in any way I needed to.

A burning sensation flared down my throat as I swished back a shot of whisky. As I signaled the bartender for another round, I sensed someone sit down next to me. It was when they spoke that the hairs on my arms stood up and my body tensed.

“I’ll have what she’s having.” Although I knew it would have been useless in this situation, I slid my hand down to my gun, but found it missing from my waistband. “Relax sweetheart. I’m not here on business.” I turned my head towards the devil himself. Lucifer. My gun was spinning in his right hand.

“Then what are you here for?” He stared down at his drink before responding.

“Company.” The emptiness and loneliness in his voice was evident, and for a

slight second my eyes softened before hardening again. He took a sip of his drink

and closed his eyes. “You know, I used to be my dad’s favorite. At least that’s what everyone tells me. It’s been so long, I can’t remember for myself. The only real memory I have of my father is him casting me down from home, putting me in a cage for billions of years. For what? For disagreeing with him. For not believing you humans to be his perfect creation. For thinking bowing to a broken and flawed species was beyond us. So he cast me out of heaven, punishing me with an eternity of isolation. After something like that, it’s hard to imagine ever being his favorite.” His jaw clenched. Setting his glass back down onto the bar table, a long silence crept between us before he turned to look in my direction. His eyes were dark and seemingly sunk into the shadows of his face. Dim blue lighting coming from the bar made them look dull and vacant. The creases in his forehead gradually softened as the corners of his mouth relaxed, allowing a melancholic demeanor to replace his usual devilish front. He looked vulnerable. I found myself reaching across the bar, gently placing my hand over his. He froze.

“I’m sorry.” It might have been the alcohol in my system and the light buzz I was beginning to feel, but I felt compassion for him. Growing up and even now as an adult, I’d always been told the devil was an evil man, a fallen angel who was dangerous and rebellious, walking about “like a lion, seeking to devour someone.” The “wicked one” is what he was referred to as. Yet, the man sitting in front of me right now was the complete opposite. There was no trace of maliciousness on his face. His posture weak as he hung his body to the bar’s counter.

“You’re sorry?” he softly questioned, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” I stared back at him, trying to convey my sincerity through my eyes which had then begun to glaze over. “All these years you’ve been alone. You’ve been judged for your actions and your mistakes. And all based on the word of God. No one’s ever bothered to ask for your side of the story. They’ve discredited you, insulted you, made it to where redemption didn’t seem an option. So yes, I’m sorry.” I turned to face the bar, breaking eye contact. He kept his gaze on me for a minute longer before turning his direction towards the bar. The rest of the night was spent in silence, a quick glance exchanged as I left.

I saw him again the following week. And then the week after that. And the one after that. Before we knew it, it became routine for Lucifer and I. Every Tuesday night I’d head down to the bar and I’d find him sitting in the same stool, three chairs down from the pool table, sipping on a glass of whiskey. This went on for months. We sat in silence at first, but as time passed, we began having conversations. We spoke of our favorite music, our favorite movies, shared more of our life’s stories. Our talks deepened with every encounter. At one point, I’d forgotten I was speaking with the devil. “I have to get back to the motel. I’m not usually out this late and I need to head back before Sam and Dean come looking for me.” I laughed. At the mention of the Winchester brothers, Lucifer’s eyes flickered a bright red before shifting back to the regular warm brown I had grown accustomed to these past few weeks.

“Wouldn’t want the mighty Winchesters to come and try to save the day.” He rolled his eyes and waved his hands around in a mocking fashion. I sighed.

“Hey Lucifer?”

“Yes, (y/n)?”

“Thank you.” He cocked his head to the right, scrunching his eyebrows. “Thank you for- just thank you. I enjoy your company.” His eyes softened and before he could say anything, I rushed forward and threw my arms around him. My embrace caught him off guard and his breath silenced for a split second before he relaxed and gently placed his arms around me. We lingered in each other’s embrace a minute more before I pulled back. “I’ll text you once I get to the motel safely!” I shouted as I pushed against the glass door of the bar and walked out into the cold september air.

As I reached the motel, I slowed down and prayed for the boys to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to explain why I was out so late. This was the fourth time this month I’ve come home late, not to add this was the latest I had ever been out. I honestly had no idea what excuse I was gonna give them this time. I hesitantly reached for the motel door, but before my hand could fully grasp the handle, the door swung open. Sam was standing in front of me with his bag hung over his shoulder, phone pressed up against his ear.

“(Y/n)!” He lowered his phone from his ear and dropped his bag onto the floor, pulling me inside the room. Dean came bursting through the bathroom door.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean tucked his gun which had previously been in hand, back into his waistband. “Sam and I called you a million times. We were just headed out to look for you. It’s three o’clock in the morning! What were you thinking?” My heart quickened and the sweat built on my forehead.

“I was at the bar,” I said as calmly as possible, “my phone ran out of battery.” I looked anywhere but the boys’ faces, avoiding all eye contact. I could feel their eyes on me as I slipped off my jacket and moved towards the bed. I lifted my head and my eyes connected with Dean’s as I attached my phone to its charger. “What, Dean? You think I’m lying? I was at the bar and my phone ran out of battery. I don’t know what else you want me to s-” I was cut off by Dean pulling his gun out and pointing it straight at me. “Woah, woah, woah! Dean!” My breath hitched and I shot both my hands up. “I get you’re upset but what the hell!” My eyes opened wide. Any trace of alcohol in my system was surely gone by now.

“(Y/n),” Dean spoke cautiously, “move over here now.” He cocked his gun.

“Alright boys, no need to get violent here.” I turned around to face the voice coming from behind me.

“Luci? What are you doing here?” I stared at him with wide eyes.

“You said you’d text me when you got to the motel safely and I hadn’t heard back from you. I called but you didn’t answer. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. There’s some bad people in this world you know?” Lucifer smirked at the end, shifting his stare towards the Winchesters. I turned my attention towards Sam and Dean.

“(Y/n)?” Sam sneered. “You want to explain to us what the hell is going on?” I let out a sigh as I switched my gaze between Lucifer and the boys. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Well,” I hesitated, “Luci and I-”

“Luci?” Dean interrupted with a bellowing voice. “(Y/n), do you hear yourself right now? You just gave the devil a damn nickname. You’re acting as if he’s your friend!” His eyes were hard and I could see his jaw clench.

“He is my friend!” Quiet fell across the room and all you could hear was my heavy breathing. Luci was the one to break the silence.

“I think the nickname is pretty cute.” He earned a glare from Sam and Dean. “What? You don’t like it? I was thinking of keeping it.” Shrugging his shoulders, he took a seat on the bed. My eyes switched from Luci back towards the boys as I placed my hand on my forehead.

“All of you. Stop.” I spoke with a firm, demanding voice. I needed all of their attention for what I was about to say. “Everybody sit on the bed.” Nobody moved. “I said, everybody sit on the bed. Now.” This time the boys moved. They sat on the opposite bed in which Luci was already sitting. I turned towards them and took a deep breath. “I know we all have our differences. And before you say some smart ass comments, Dean, Luci, let me finish.” I looked towards the boys. “Boys, every Tuesday for the past few months, Lucifer and I have been meeting at the bar. We’ve talked more than you can imagine and we’ve gotten close.” They both scoffed. I gave them a glare. “Luci is my friend and that’s not going to change. He isn’t who you think he is. He’s just lonely and hurt. I mean think about it. Everybody believes he’s a bad person and in the past billion years he’s had no one there for him.”

“And for good reason (y/n)! For crying out loud, there’s a whole damn book talking about how dangerous he is, how manipulative! You’re falling for a trap!”

“Sam! That’s exactly my point! That book was written by who? By God. By his prophets. It’s told from God's point of view! But what about his? What about Lucifer’s? God’s book tells you all his faults and all his wrongs but what of his good? He’s still an angel for pete’s sake. He just needs someone to care! He needs company! When God created humans, Luci went from being the favorite to being completely ignored. God had his prophets. The angels had the humans. Lucifer had no one. He was forgotten. You have no idea what that can do to you. Loneliness is a poison.” I took a breath before I continued, leaving no room for an interjection. “If according to everyone else, Lucifer is the father of sin, why hasn’t anyone prayed for him? Huh? Who prays for Lucifer? Who, in the past eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it the most?” I looked over at Luci. “Luci. You are my friend and I promise you, you will never be alone again. Not as long as I’m alive.” I took a step back, signaling I was done saying what I had to say. We basked in the silence until Sam spoke up.

“Ok.” He nodded his head and looked at me with his puppy dog eyes.

“Ok?” That’s all he had to say?

“Yeah. Ok. I understand.” He stood up, looked over at Luci and then back at me. He walked over to Lucifer and stopped in front of him. Dean followed. “I don’t like you. I probably never will. But for (y/n) I’ll stand you.” Dean leaned in close and continued after Sam.

“Listen here, Luci,” he mocked, “(y/n) is family and I look out for my family. Saying that, if you so much as hurt her in any way, I’ll kill you.” Both the boys backed up. I stepped in front of them, grabbing Luci by the arm. Leading him outside, I closed the motel door behind us.

“(Y/n). Did you really mean everything you said? Am I really someone you consider a friend?” His voice softened at the end, no louder than a whisper. I looked back at him and gave him a faint smile.

“Of course I meant everything I said.” He gave me a big smile and dropped his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I should probably go back inside, don’t want to push my luck.” I laughed. “See you next week, Luci.”

“Yeah, see you next week (y/n).” He smiled at me. And then he was gone.

#lucifer #supernatural #supernaturalthisbitchjerk #supernaturalthisfanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #lucifer x reader #alcohol #motel #hunter #fanfiction #bobby #god #heaven #prayer

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stusbunker · 5 years

Text

Known: Two Halves, Three Hearts

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: MOC!Dean x Female OC, x Demon!Reader, Claire Novak, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley

Summary: CC learns to navigate more of the Winchesters’ associates. Meanwhile, Dean crosses the line to end Cain’s reign of terror. He finds her vulnerable, will she let him sate himself in every way imaginable? Can he run from what he is becoming? Is she enough to keep the evil at bay? Crowley finds our Reader and offers a path to redemption, if she can trust what he’s selling.

Warnings: Post murder haze, torture, period sex, blood, blood play, stabbing, dub!con smut, subtle mention of past sexual assault, disassociation, humiliation, and loss of sense of self.

Series Masterlist

*^*^*^*

December 11, 2014

The Bunker

It was nearly dawn when Chloe felt the air tighten against the Impala’s entry into the garage. Something was wrong; Sam was driving. Dean sat in the passenger seat and in the back, Castiel beside a blonde who had cried out a week’s worth of mascara and eyeliner. Dean was bleeding, but that wasn’t what was wrong. He stared ahead, lost and empty, covered in others’ blood. It was human, every last drop, CC could tell just by the smell. An ability she would have appreciated if it didn’t lead to the implications on Dean’s clothing.

Other than the upset teenager, no one else seemed to have been touched by the fray. Sam rapped on the hood, giving CC his best ‘I can’t explain this away’ eyes. He was worried mute. CC finally moved toward the car, both Sam and she eventually earning swats as Dean came to, silently protesting their help.

“How many?” CC whispered against his retreating form.

“Look, they were loan sharks and they were going to use Claire-,” Sam started.

“How many people did he kill?”

“Four.” Castiel cut in, glimpsing back to the girl in the backseat.

CC’s stomach pitched, a phantom whiff of manure and dust drifted past her nose and into her thoughts. She didn’t allow herself to focus on the reality of Dean’s crimes, instead she moved the conversation along. “What are you going to do with the kid?”

“She won’t stay here. I was going to take her to a motel in town. Chloe, I’m sorry, CC, would you be willing to accompany me?”

Sam huffed. “Is that really a good idea, Cas?”

“I just thought that, maybe an older female might be able to get through to her.” Cas looked wrecked, his vessel wearing his worry like a neon sign. He felt more human to CC than he ever had.

“I’m not babysitting.” CC stared between Sam and Cas and back again. Her annoyance and concern reciprocated in one form or another. She should be checking on Dean, not playing Big Brother Big Sister to Castiel’s ward. Dean didn’t want to see her; he had made that painfully clear. CC fiddled with her knife as the girl’s ghostly eyes challenged them from the backseat. “I’m not ready to leave the wards, not yet. But, if you guys need a minute, I can get some food in her? Keep her out of your hair for a—”

“Thank you,” Sam mouthed to CC as he and Cas nearly ran out of the garage and the blast radius all she could do was reply with a single finger. CC walked around the hood of the Impala, hands tucked in her back pockets as she watched the girl glare and roll her eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go back to bed, but since that’s not happening. Coffee?” CC gave Claire five seconds before walking away, nodding over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. Claire followed CC dejectedly, hunger trumped petulance apparently, if barely.

“So, who are you anyway?”

“You can call me CC.” She almost smiled over her shoulder, dropping down into the sunken kitchen.

“Which one of them is your–?”

“My what?” CC pushed the automatic drip setting from delayed brew to ON and started rifling through the pantry for English muffins once Claire made up her mind to join her.

“Dean, huh? Figures. Well, your man’s a murderer, if you didn’t know.”

CC didn’t really look up at the girl while she started preparing their hasty meal, but it was evident that her bitterness was far from fading. CC slammed the toaster lever in place and leered down at Claire, who was sitting on the kitchen table with her feet on the seat of a chair. “Alright, Miss Teen Bitch. First off, you are in their home, so I’d watch who you call what. Secondly, yeah, I did know. Pretty much every hunter has the bad kind of blood on their hands, that includes me.”

The creak of the muffins’ release broke the silence. There was more eye rolling and tongue tisking, but eventually Claire began to listen for the answer to her more pointed questions.

“What are you even doing with him?”

CC shrugged, “I could ask the same about you and the angel.”

“Gross.” Claire recoiled. “Besides, they came after me! I just swiped his wallet for some spare cash. They should have just let me go! If they had—- Fuck! You know what? Screw you lady. You’re on their side. You’re not gonna listen to me.”

“Hey, cool it, alright?” Claire threw her fists down at her sides and folded them over her stomach. CC could see she needed to keep prodding because Claire was so close to the next hurdle. “Let’s get things straight. This isn’t a black white, us vs. you scenario. They thought you were in danger and did what they thought was best for you; to keep you safe. Sucks not being able to make the call on your own life, don’t it?” CC waited for Claire to acknowledge the helplessness they shared.

“Yeah, well, I might be Dean’s whatever. But I know all too well about Winchester intentions. For the record, me and Castiel? Not friends.”

“He’s wearing my dad’s face. Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?”

CC dropped onto the bench below Claire, handing her a plate. “Just a little weirder than living in an underground bunker with the guys that sent your closest friend to Hell?”

Claire nibbled on the toasted olive branch, tearing it to pieces before finally relaxing. She was scared and desperate, it came off in every gesture of her defensive attitude. CC started to wonder just what was going to happen with the kid now that she had been brought in.

“I hate them, all of them. I hate them for what they did.”

CC’s mouth twisted in sad empathy at the girl, knowing that the grief she wasn’t processing was much more palatable as rage. It was like looking into a fun house mirror of her past: overdone make up and culturally rebellious hair style. All just more things to help in the lie to herself about how empty she felt.

“What?! I do.”

“I know.” CC rolled back up to her feet, nodding toward the fridge. “Let’s see what else there is to eat. There’s one thing that’ll piss Dean off more than messing with his car and that’s eating the last of his pie.”

“Okay?” Claire huffed out an unamused agreement, a reluctant warmth shone from her eyes.

*^*^*^*

February 2015

Dean had gone cold turkey. He stopped drinking, stopping lurking outside CC’s room at night, and started eating egg white omelets, apparently. Fat lot of good it did. The Oz Case with Charlie gave him whiplash, seeing his friend spilt into parts as if she was just the sum of her emotions rubbed him the wrong way. Breaking her arm was something he was never going to be able to forgive himself for; his knuckles still scabbed over from decimating her porcelain face. Her dogged determination and forgiveness still got him in the throat. Ever present, CC had stood, unflinching as the boys and Charlie had their goodbyes.

Now as Sam casually mentioned Tina from the Hansel and Gretel run in, something akin to jealousy flashed in her steely eyes. Something he had no desire to press her on nor any hope that it could lead to getting her back. She had helped out with Claire, had researched the hell out of the Bunker’s stacks alongside them through it all, and she had all but admitted the demon was the one moaning his name, the one that used her body to make his every nerve sing. If that wasn’t enough to drive him to drink again, nothing was.

*^*^*^*

February 16, 2015

A festering cavern, Hell

Blinding daylight burst from an unseen door to your left. Once your eyes adjusted a figure appeared, breaking through the shafts of light, like a key in a lock. His footfalls were leisurely, the clipping beat of his obscenely expensive shoes barely gaining ground. Crowley walked into your isolated prison like a birder on a Sunday stroll.

“Oh good, you’re conscious.” His big eyes teetered on compassion as his words fell in a nice noncommittal little heap. You wanted to reply; the empty air loomed as your mouth tried to form words. You couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had used your voice. Your tongue thick and coarse in your throat as it strove to remember language. Crowley squinted, but waited as you grew frustrated with yourself. You sighed, nodding in exasperation before he could mock you for it. You weren’t certain he was real, but the thought of a visitor, even one seeking twisted entertainment, was better than another decade alone. Eventually you decided that you couldn’t have made him up; you had better imagination than that.

“I wasn’t aware we still used places like these. These rubbish heaps were from the initial days of Hell. The time when the fallen Angels fought for control and some unseen judicial system weighed the disloyal and usurpers’ crimes. You got off lightly, by the old standards. It takes a lot of energy to maintain this kind of torment; it simply isn’t worth the output for a single demon here or there. Then again, we all must answer for our crimes; no matter how seemingly noble the reasoning. Rebels against an outdated hierarchy—”

He continued to drone on, though your exhausted mind could hardly keep up and when it did; you found yourself unaffected by his rallying attempts. You were too downtrodden to feel any comradery with the man who held the keys to your cage. To all the cages. Hate was a delicious main course that followed the apathetic appetizer. You began to wade out to the swells of emotion. Things that hadn’t reached you in years carving through you until you were ready to swim in the rage as he spoke, eyes beetle black and bulging as he spat his points.

Finally, you fissured as the sound erupted from your mouth, a frustrated wail that shut the King up well and good.

“What do you want?!” you demanded between staccato breaths. You glared down at him, his human form was nearly a head shorter than you, but the inches of debris locking your ankles in place nearly evened the field of vision. You hoped the words you used made sense; because he was taking his time answering.

“I need someone to do a little digging on a certain individual. Someone who owes me and who won’t go gossiping to the demon next door.” Crowley tongue worked his cheek. “In short, I am offering you a one-way ticket back, what do you say?”

“Who?” The confusion began to clear as the delirious hum of hope rang in your ears.

“Can’t tell you here. Now–” Crowley looked over his shoulder and raised his fist in the air. “Let’s get you somewhere a little more accommodating, shall we?”

Before you could even nod, he snapped his fingers, freeing you from the slop and stench.

*^*^*^

Tale End of Executioner’s Song

Dean has killed Cain

Dean comes up from the dark with rasping breaths. His tendons are locked into place and his wrist is screaming from strain, a frequency he has yet to process. He doesn’t remember telling his feet to move, but his legs have carried him this far: away from the evidence and back down to those waiting on him. All pretense shrivels as he hears Sammy’s voice close by, persistent but muddled. Then Crowley’s, asking for his arm, no, the blade. Right, it isn’t a part of him after all. He should really let go, he isn’t sure what part of him is making these decisions, but grateful it doesn’t seem to be as hard as it feels.

Dean turns the weapon handle out and passes it to Cas. His eyes have focused enough to see the disbelief on the demon’s face at the gesture. Dean isn’t here to suffer fools; however helpful they had become. He reveals his deceits, unblinking as Crowley disappears. Sam catches him then, before his legs finally catch up to the path that got them there and Dean wonders what God sees in man.

The fog of battle clung to his mind, the Mark dulled, but never silenced. His blood flowed hot and vibrant, pumping through his veins in and out of his heart, that very human organ thumping in his gnawing chest. Dean moved as if he was tailing himself, looking down on his movements from some unimaginable higher ground until he slid into the Impala and drove away. Everything was reflex, instinct, autopilot. The moment the driver’s side door creaked open, he smelled it. Blood, faint and intoxicating. That hot beat inside of him pounded deeper.

He threw his duffel to the foot of his bed and shrugged out of his jacket. The Mark peered beneath the rolled cuff of his flannel, a garish pink against the dark fabric. Somehow, Dean found himself in the kitchen and despite the caffeine and the cheerleading from Sam, he felt hollowed out. Dean’s vision tunneled as he dodged out of further conversation to march down the hall. Finally, he could seek what had been calling to him.

CC froze over the washing machine as he loomed in the doorway. Her eyes closed as she felt him scent her, she didn’t turn an inch in his direction. Her bare legs, plump and smooth, beneath her tiny pajama shorts were just enough exposed skin to do some real damage. She fell back, heavy on to her heels. “How was it?”

“Final,” Dean said after stopping to consider an appropriate description for an assassination.

Chloe finally saw him, torn between shadow and shame. “I was scared you’d—"

“Yeah, well. I did.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders hulking as he considered her concern.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me?” CC swallowed more air, the fear and electricity making her lightheaded. She moved to rest her hand on her knife handle, but it slid over the missing weapon. Her oversized sweatshirt sleeve covering her hand as it dangled in unfulfilled habit.

“How you doin’ Cease?”

“What?”

“How are you?” Dean said each word with a step forward, head bowing as he watched her straighten to face him.

“Uh, pretty crabby, but okay, I guess.”

Dean hummed, eyes squinting as she nervously looked to the door and back to space between their feet. “Anything I can help you out with?”

She blushed, a warmth twisting around her eyes and an awkward smile pulled at her cheeks as she centered her ponytail, giving her itching hands something to hold on to. “Dean?”

“Chloe?” Dean’s eyes darkened, the dangerous smirk pulling far enough back to let the overhead lights glint on his impossible teeth. He was gaunt and sallow; yet power continued to radiate from all over him.

“How are you looking at me like that,” she whispered in disbelief, pulling her top lower over her wide hips. “I am disgusting right now.”

“Yeah, well, compared to my butchered mug; you’re as tantalizing as ever, Cease. Besides, I could use a distraction or two, however dirty they might be.” Dean’s voice dropped another octave, an invisible fist clenched inside her. She groaned, letting her head fall in indecision. Dean closed the distance between them, big hands taking her shoulders firmly as he leaned down, earning a grin as she found his eyes suddenly playful beneath lush lashes.

“Seriously, I’m gross.”

“Not to me you’re not,” Dean purred, wide thumb stroking her strong cheek bone. “Let me make you less crabby.” CC’s head rolled to the side; her nose nuzzled into his comforting stubble.

At long last, she caved, her spiced skin slipping beneath his cracked lips as they danced over her collar bone. Dean’s entire body hummed with a need nearly as wide as the void inside him. They collided, grabbing and shoving until Dean started to wonder who was truly strongest. Then CC nipped below his ear and he tossed her on top of the washing machine she had set to HOT. She pinched her knees together, twisting side saddle on the hissing appliance, lips parting as Dean’s tongue took its time riling her up from the inside out.

Dean’s hands widened, tips and palms digging into her fleshy thighs, begging access until he demanded it. She groaned into his mouth before pulling back, her uncertainty crumbled beneath his singular focus. She tasted the iron from his split lip, a bit of coffee and something unimaginable. Even bad decisions need to be made to prove their consequence. Chloe grabbed Dean’s forearms and pushed him back, his gaze slow to move up from his target.

“Shower room?” she asked hopping back down on her bare feet.

Dean barely shook his head, nose buried in her hair. Her arms threaded around his waist as his thumb cocked up her face, his fingers threading into the loose strands at the nape of her neck.

“My room? It’s farthest from Sam’s?” Dean answered with clashing teeth and a fistful of Chloe’s ass.

There was a threatening rhythm to their efforts, hefty pauses ending only after the other started to teeter; to break. They had gotten to CC’s room, clothes shoved and forgotten along the way to the bed. Dean grasped the nape of her neck, his arm locked as he stared through her, eyes unfocused and mouth open against a horror she couldn’t see. She tried to pull him closer, to sit back and take him with her, but he was frozen. She slid her palm under his elbow and pushed up, her other arm braced across his chest to keep him back, in case his reaction was less than friendly.

His jaw worked over all the words that wouldn’t form, eyes dropping closed as he came back from the brink, grip softening as his forehead fell to her shoulder. CC couldn’t stop from shaking as the moment passed, Dean’s mouth finding her pulse point more than conversational again. All that hovered over them: fear, power, destiny and damnation, fueled them until they were desperate and starving, knowing that the other was just as empty. Just as wanton. Dean’s hands pulled her thighs apart and his teeth ran the edge of the faded cotton. The iron sang through his nose as it mixed with her arousal; a signature cocktail he couldn’t refuse.

CC swallowed as his fingers dragged down the last barrier between his mouth and her coated folds. No sound could reach her as she battled the disgust and desire, Dean’s tongue threaded through her lips, nipping and sucking them swollen. He moved in to circle her clit; the heat of her shame began to burn away as yearning eclipsed all custom and ceremony. CC’s head fell back, and when she closed her eyes knots of wood looked back.

Suddenly she was suspended from her every nerve, tucked away from feeling Dean shove three fingers inside her mess. In a bubble of warmth and muffled sound, CC drifted. It was calm and quiet there, a place without resistance or time. She began to wonder if this is what Death felt like, if the veil could manifest itself to tease her. To coax her immortality from her by sheer tranquility. There was something pulling at the back of her thoughts, something she was forgetting, something that demanded her opposition even, but CC couldn’t be bothered to think on that. Not quite yet.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s lost her, he just keeps finger fucking her until the thinning blood is snaking down his arm. His lips pull at her, thirst crazed and blind. The beat inside his head overtakes her pulse, heavy and languid, building. Her breath catches and he feels the gentle trickle, a silent compliment for his efforts. Her body pulls while he pushes, deeper, solid, unmoving as the shuttering of her walls loosen outward in waves.

Dean pulls his hand back and admires it in the light, rust rimmed nails and ruddied knuckles as the skin cools beneath the liquid as it dries and cracks. It’s not enough. His eyes search the desk and dresser, knowing it must be here, somewhere. He isn’t thinking, he is only moving. The battered leather sheath lays across her boots, handle smooth and solid as he grips it in his right hand. It’s smaller than he thought, but the spellworked blade dazzles as Dean pulls it from its case.

She hasn’t moved safe for her chest rising and eyes scrunched against the ceiling. Dean should know that isn’t a good sign, but either he doesn’t register it, or he doesn’t care. He moves to her side, where he can feel her curves against him, her lungs expand as he lets his weight fall against her. Her head lulls to the side and a soft whimper passes her lips as he slides home, blood thick and gritty along every inch of him. Dean almost cums at the sight of the gore he pulls out of CC’s channel. He pushes back in, shoving her knees obscenely against the comforter, letting every ripple of her thighs and ass urge him on.

CC feels the first slice between her breasts. Like a tuft of hair caught in a necklace she is pulled from her weightlessness and placed back in reality. The sweat stings her skin as it opens, her granddad’s knife dangles above her as Dean catches her eye. He thrusts into her with clenched teeth, eyes dark and muscles constricting as he shifts lower. Her legs lock around his waist as he stands, still buried inside her. She tries to sit, but his free hand pushes her back down, rough palm burning against the mangled flesh.

He grunts and gasps, and CC finally sees it, the terror in his eyes. He’s frozen once more. The knife is shaking in his hand, a not so invisible force extending over his forearm. CC needs to do something; Dean’s panicking as his body moves without him. She rolls her hips and threads her fingers around his wrist. Dean’s eyes go wide as she sinks the metal beneath her ribs. She shushes him, nodding and rocking into his body. Dean looks away and moves again, entering her doubly as the Mark takes her offering to free him. She tries to keep breathing, to stay conscious and keep watch on Dean.

Her hand slips up from his wrist and over the cursed brand in his white skin. She focuses on it, stomping on the tendrils of control with her mind; it remains immobile and unnerving. She feels the darkness pulling at her, trying to put her under, to stow her away. Dean’s face falls to her neck, he pulls the knife from her side, leaving jarring pain shooting through her as the wound registers. Dean cries out, clutching her head to his, arms tight and knife falling.

CC thrashes against him, breaking through with a fist through his near headlock; they roll back, clinging to each other like a life raft. His scruff prickles her throat and CC coughs, breaking the stalemate. They pull apart, limbs and groins untangling in guilt riddled silence. Dean clears his throat and sits up, hand hovering over her wounds. He’s mesmerized and apologetic, biting back any sorry when CC inhales against the pain. She waves him off and pops up onto her elbows. Her eyes take in the damage and she frowns in consideration before closing her eyes.

“Cease?” Dean whines a worry as her skin starts to glow.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna be fine, just, uh, just gimme a sec.” CC wills the walls of her organs to fuse, her muscles knit together, and the skin zips closed and clean before Dean’s eyes. She pants from effort and falls back to the bed, a gentle smile twisting on her face before she opens her eyes. Dean’s are like saucers, his slack jawed expression made worse by the patches of blood and slick crusted in his scruff. All CC can think is how his mix of scary and stoned is causing her heart to catch in her throat.

“Hey?” CC whispers, slipping her hand over his, despite the nausea that was creeping back up. “You good?”

Dean lets her question sit unanswered, floating in the space between his guilty hands and her enabling eyes. The world seemed to tilt before he falls into the damp darkness of unconsciousness.

^*^*^*^

Dean woke to the sound of his own screams, his fist jutting up into some unseen enemy. He swung against her as CC tried to pull him back, her hand cool on his left bicep. He smelled soap and felt damp pillows; he couldn’t remember showering. Finally, the room righted itself and he could piece together what little furniture she had accumulated since they’d been brought back to the Bunker. Since the demon inside her had helped Sam cure him. He spotted her empty boots and the images of her knife in his grip flashed in his mind’s eye; his stomach twisted against the memories he forced himself to swallow.

CC let him work through it, she was sore and exhausted and couldn’t find the words that would bring him back from the brick wall he kept running himself into. His recoil from her every touch set up her haunches as it was, maybe she should have dragged him to his own bed after all. Having him here felt like they were hiding, but the only person she felt any guilt for was no longer in this phase of existence.

He whispered a desperate ‘fuck’ into the early morning quiet. Finding his undershirt; he ducked into the neck before turning to face CC. Whatever he was hoping to find in her face, it wasn’t there. Her tired eyes were set deep atop her full cheeks, her uncertainty and caution bordering on annoyance.

“What?” Her voice warbled.

“Forget it.” Dean closed his eyes as her hand snaked over the sheets to cage his in. “I’m sorry I woke you up, I’ma head back to my room, let you get some rest.”

“Dean? You don’t have to—” She didn’t even try to sell it.

“I know, but, I just keep going through the thing with Cain and, you need to recuperate now, so.” Dean shrugged, left a peck on her forehead and threw on the rest of his clothes before either said another word. Once he was free to the safety of the empty hallway Dean shivered, his bare feet and wet head oddly comforting in the confines of his body and bones.

CC watched him leave, quick and painlessly. There was so much lacking between them that it didn’t even register as a rejection; they were simply saying what they thought the other wanted to hear. They were quite the lop-sided pair: the cursed hunter and Heaven’s bastard’s mistake. Both broken, in very different directions.

*^*^*^*

Next Chapter: The Mark

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