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xxxdreamscapexxx · 5 months

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Only for you

Emo!Wanda Maximoff x FemReader

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Just the above, but I also added some reader backstory

Warning: Reader backstory including: physical pain, arguing, bullying, mental instability, manipulation, R being held against her will Present time storyline: mutual pining, Unestablished lesbian relationship, slight teasing by the team, jealousy, posessiveness, love confessions, fluff, Happy!Ending <3

Joining the Avengers was a challenge. It wasn’t the constant work outs and strict diet to keep you healthy and strong, it wasn’t even the danger or the threats to your life, even the annoying attempts of the media to follow you and snap pictures of you didn’t bother you that much. They all got buried by the government before they saw the light of day anyway. It was the people. Not that you weren’t grateful to them. They had saved your life after all. Gave you a purpose in life. But… The Avengers were a tough group to get to know and even tougher to live with sometimes. Of course, some preferred having their own homes, like Clint and his family, or the notorious Captain Marvel, that didn’t even live on Earth, and just as expected, those that did live in the tower had their own floors, rooms, offices, so you didn’t even meet them that much, but that just made it even harder to really connect. That’s why Steve insisted on team building activities, training together, even attending Tony’s stupid parties, all in the name of bonding. The man meant well and he really had a big heart, but he just couldn’t see that some of the Avengers had very little in common.

The thing is… You were born a witch. Not from a powerful clan, or with deeply rooted ancestry, and you probably would have stayed that way, had you not made a terrible mistake. Truly, you were just angry at the time. Barely a teenager, who thought she had all the answers. You were arguing with your mother about something, not that you could even remember what for. It was probably so stupid. But you both lost your temper, screaming at each other, until she had sent you to your room. She thought she was de-escalating the situation, giving you both time to calm down. What she didn’t know is that you had been through her collection of spell books and brought them all to your room. So when you slammed the door behind you, stupidly, unthinkingly, you grabbed the books. You weren’t sure what kind of spell you were hoping to find. Just something to make all the emotions inside you stop raging. But you found an absorption spell instead. In your head, you thought that if you just learned this spell and then performed it, you’ll search through the books much faster and then you’d able to do… What? God, you had no idea. Thinking back now, that was such a ridiculous thing to do. But you learned the spell, grabbed the candles you had in your drawer, surrounded yourself with all the books you had taken and just started the chant, hands touching the pages of the books and starting to feel their content seeping into your skin. It stung! That’s what you remember most. The feeling of that black ink seeping into your skin, as if splitting it open to make its way inside, clawing its way in your veins. It hurt so bad, but it wouldn’t stop. You had said the words, and now the spell was doing its work, emptying the pages of the books around you. You tried to pull your hands away, struggled to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. Every painful second felt like hours. The panic inside you was rising, watching the inky blotches making their way up your arms, crawling like black maggots under your skin, up your shoulders and neck… You were so scared, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you watched it happen, begging for it to finally stop.

But with the end of the spell, you found yourself facing a greater torment. You had taken too much, too fast for your brain to fully comprehend. All the words swirled in your head like a hurricane, making it impossible to distinguish your own thoughts. You tried to calm down, tried to put those racing thoughts in order, trying to meditate, just like your mother had thought you, but it was useless. It wouldn’t stop. In the end, it was your screams that attracted your mother to your room, panicked and scared, just as you were, trying to get you to tell her what you had done, but you couldn’t even put a sentence in order. Your brain was so scrambled, growing more incoherent by the second. Maybe that’s when you passed out? You couldn’t tell. You had very little recollections from that time. The next days were a blur. You don’t remember much. Just your room. Your mother told you that you were consumed by madness. Spewing lines from spells, incoherent and jumbled together. But sometimes you would get one right. She’d had to confine you to your room and bind you with runes, so you wouldn’t start casting without even knowing it. She told you it took you two weeks, before you started to come back to yourself. It was a miracle you even managed it. Some witches never recovered from such a thing. By the time you came back to your school, there were so many rumours about you, people whispering behind your back. You were changed. Thinner, more withdrawn, trying to keep to yourself. But kids were cruel and curious. They teased you, tried to get you to admit why you were missing from school all this time, attacking you, when you tried to ignore them. You should have known it was inevitable that you snapped and did something you’d regret.

It was just before summer break, you thought you had gotten through the worst of it, that you had your emotions under control, practicing every day, just so you could keep all the magic from spilling out. Many people didn’t know, but grimoires weren’t just books full of spells. Each spell, written within the pages was also a tiny bit of magic, leaving its imprint and taking root. You hadn’t just absorbed the knowledge, but the magic too. It was more than you’d ever felt, more than you knew how to control, so you practiced relentlessly. But when pushed, it bubbled to the surface. Fucking Madeleine Dupont, daughter of the Patric Dupont – owner of the biggest, most profitable manufacturing business in town, was obnoxious, spoiled, annoying and with a mean streak wider than her daddy’s newly acquired 23 acres of land for their grand mansion. The girl loved to pick on everyone, but recently, she had set her sights on you and in that fateful day, she and her friends cornered you into an empty classroom, taking drugs out of their pockets and trying to get you to take them. When “gentle” persuasion failed, one of them grabbed you, holding you by the hair and trying to force your face onto a desk, where they had spilled some powder. You didn’t even know what it is. But they started to overpower you, and the tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to tell them that you didn’t want this, that you needed them to stop, only added to their exhilaration.

They eventually pinned you down, laughing menacingly as they tried to get you to breathe it in and you lost control, pushing them back with your magic, a wave of energy blasting through the whole room, making desks and chairs fly to the ground, just like the girls had done. You tried to reign yourself in, to stop the emotions from taking over, but you were mumbling spells already. You remember just a blast. You remember waking up in a cell, body strapped to a small hospital bed, being pumped full of something. And the woman. She was your “handler” and on most days, the only person you saw or spoke with. She told you what happened. You’d killed those girls. Part of the building collapsed because of what you had done and the rubble crushed them. You must have protected yourself on instinct. Survived it somehow. They were giving you medication, making sure you heal properly. And then your training could begin. They were HYDRA. And they had a special interest in people like you. They made it clear that they weren’t just your supposed saviours, but also your captors. They weren’t going to just let you leave their facility. Instead, they aimed to train you. You were one of the lucky ones. You learned that after you were rescued from that HYDRA base. They never tortured you physically. Instead, they decided that they could break your mind, already weakened by what you’d done to yourself. They aimed to convert you. Half your training was spells and magic, endurance, strength… The other part… That was indoctrination. And they used everything they knew about you just to do it. When you refused to say the right things, they withheld food, when you refused to train, they withheld water… When that didn’t work, they would use threats. Your mother. They weren’t above hurting her to make you behave. They weren’t above killing her, if you didn’t do what you’re told.

You often held out hope that she was looking for you. That she’d find you and save you. But she didn’t have half as much power as you did. And you couldn’t escape them. What luck would she have? Eventually, your only hope of escape was to save yourself and after a few failed attempts, you formed a plan. You did as you were told, said what they needed to hear and you trained. You trained every waking moment, making sure your body and mind would be strong enough to take on all the magic you invited into yourself. That absorption spell? You used it more often, although, you limited the amount of information this time. It always hurt, the headaches after each use were monstrous. But it was all worth it. You were going to get yourself out of there one day. Even if you had to take down the whole base to do it. But it was the Avengers who took it down and helped you out of there. They reunited you with your mother, your family, and after some time, they also offered you a job. A calling. To help people. Those who weren’t as fortunate as you. Those in need. And you said yes. That’s how you ended up in the Avengers tower. Despite the people, it was a lonely place. Few understood what you had been though, fewer still cared for what it had done to you. But you couldn’t blame them. They all had their own lives, their own problems to deal with, their own personal pain to wallow in. Natasha understood. She knew what being a prisoner was like, what it felt like to be forced to do things just to survive. Steve empathised. His big heart and his puppy dog eyes were unbelievably charming and he won you over easily. Clint brought normalcy to everyone’s lives. But most of the others were hard to relate to. Tony meant well, but he had a big mouth and he loved putting his foot in it. Bruce was always in his lab. Vision was kind, but he was also marked by the characteristics of his origin and hard to make a connection with. Thor… Where do you even start with Thor? But there was also Wanda.

She had joined before you, her story similar to yours, yet so different, marked by loss and heartache. She was a kindred spirit and easily a friend. She was a little older than you, her eyeliner thick, her black nail polish often chipped, her hair in a tight ponytail as she walked around the compound and she always smiled when she saw you. As the months passed, the two of you were inseparable, spending every waking moment together. You were one of the two people who wasn’t scared that she’d read your mind, who trusted her good intentions and good heart completely. The other was Vision. They had a bond, an understanding that you didn’t know how to share in. But you were happy that she had him in her corner, because the other Avengers always looked at her suspiciously, or avoided her and you never knew why. Wanda was a sweetheart. Her favorite way to watch sitcoms was with her cuddled up into your side, your fingers playing with her silky hair, that she always let down, when it was just the two of you in the room. And sure, she was a little emo, but you found that adorable. Her smile would only widen, when you’d use one of your many pet names for her and she would blush, when you complimented her cooking. And you used those all the time, because, the thing is, you were in love with her. You were desperately in love with Wanda Maximoff and you were ready to do just about anything to have her smile at you or shower you with her affection. Something she did practically all the time anyway. If the woman wasn’t also fiercely protective and an extremely powerful witch, you’d say she’s a puppy. But none of the others ever agreed, when you said so. They would cower, when she stepped into the room, avoid her eyes, when they needed to speak to her, they would step out of training rooms, when she walked in. You found it baffling. And somehow the treatment extended to you as well. The closer you got to her, the more they kept their distance.

Gone were the days when they would tease you playfully, when they would give you pointers on your techniques, when they would approach you for small gatherings that didn’t involve the whole team and you never knew why. Until today. You walked in the common room, only to find most of the team already there and you greeted them, before you made your way to the adjacent kitchen, listening to their banter as you made breakfast for yourself and Wanda. It was the dynamic you were used to and you were ready to join them, holding the bowls of food in your hands, when you noticed that the noise suddenly died down, replaced by tense silence. “Wanda.” Natasha greeted with a nod. “Natasha.” The younger woman acknowledged, stepping further into the room and scanning it for something. Not that she ever told them what she needs. She looked pissed. Her aura was dark and almost menacing, her shoulders squared, like she was ready for a fight, making everyone on edge and you couldn’t figure out why. “Hi, sweetheart!” You decide to finally greet her, showing yourself from behind the wall you had been standing, while you observed all this. “Sweetheart?” Tony lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile creeping up his lips. Wanda only threw him a glare, but she accepted your hug happily, taking you into her arms and when you pulled away, she only let you turn into her hold, facing the group, while her hands stayed firmly around you. “Let’s go have breakfast in my room.” She suggested in your ear, ready to practically drag you out of there. “Why not join all of us for breakfast?” Steve raised his voice, gesturing to the big table he was already sitting at. “That’d be nice.” You nodded, before Wanda had any chance to refuse. “Come on, Wands, I already fixed you a bowl.” You told her. “Yes, Wands, we haven’t seen you in ages.” Tony agrees, emphasising the nickname you had used.

Feeling like she didn’t have much of a choice, Wanda agreed, sitting next to you and pulling your chair practically into her side, so she’d have you as close to her as she could, while she ate quietly. But the team felt like they had stumbled onto something. They had felt the shift in mood within her, as soon as she saw you and they weren’t going to let it go so easily. At first they tried their playful banter on her, asking her about her day, about her interests, about her training, just anything to see a reaction, but none actually came. It was only when you spoke that she would light up. She would smile, when she listened to you, when she forgot that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. But it was the little blush that showed on her cheeks, when you called her “darling” that first sparked an idea within them. “Hey, Y/N, I hear you tried your hand against Cap here.” Bucky stared off, attracting your attention. “Tried being the key word. Hand to hand I don’t stand a chance, but with a little magic…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Who knows…” “Yeah?” His smile widens. “Well, if you’re looking for a challenge, join me for a spar this afternoon.” He invited. “She’s training with me this afternoon.” Wanda practically growled, looking up from her bowl for just a second, to stare down Bucky. Her glare was murderous. “That’s too bad, I was hoping for a little magic.” The man said, obviously bating Wanda. “Then perhaps you should train with me. I have magic.” Wanda snarled, summoning a ball of energy between her fingers for a moment, just to get her point across and luckily, the man was smart enough to back off. “Well, if you’re busy training, perhaps I can finally take dear Y/N to get a proper costume. The two of you can’t keep borrowing my leather jackets and pretend that it’s a real suit.” Natasha interjected. “What do you say dear?” She asked, her voice dropping an octave. “I already have some ideas in mind. You can try them on for me.” She suggested, noting the way Wanda’s knuckles turned white around her spoon. “And I’m sure Tony can make some improvements.” “Oh yeah.” The man chimed in, happy to take his own turn teasing Wanda. “I’ll have to get your measurements of course. To make sure it fits perfectly.” He says casually, but the idea of it makes Wanda’s blood boil. “She’s busy today.” Wanda retorts, before you even get a chance to open your mouth and you find yourself surprised to see her so tense. “Tomorrow perhaps.” Tony shrugs, taking on Wanda’s glare. “I’ll make time for her.” He adds. “She’s mine.” Wanda snaps, raising from her seat and balling her fists. “What was that?” Tony pretends not to hear her, smirking at the pissed off witch. “I said, she’s mine.” Wanda grits out, turning to you, ready to drag you out of the room.

It’s then that she realizes what she had said. That you were right there next to her, looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness. The thing is, Wanda was desperately in love with you too. She was also, as the team quickly started to realize, extremely possessive, and she wasn’t going to watch every man and woman in the room flirt with you. The only problem was that she hadn’t told you all that. Scared to ruin your friendship and loose you for good, she opted for hiding her feelings, which only intensified her jealousy. She hadn’t staked her claim on you and it made her scared that someone else might. So every time you weren’t with her, she’d be on edge, lurking in corners, sending people glares whenever they spoke to you, hoping to keep them away until she could finally tell you how she felt. Such behaviour had earned her a reputation in the Tower as grumpy, and since everyone knew how dangerous she could be, they tried to stay away. Now, however, cornered and taken by surprise, she had let it slip. And you were right next to her, so it was impossible that you didn’t hear her earlier words. “Y/N…” She stutters, taken aback. “I didn’t mean… I…” She stumbled over her words. And the audience didn’t help in the slightest. She felt crowded. Tony’s smug smirk seemed to taunt her, Bucky and Steave sharing a knowing giggle between them, Natasha, who somehow looked unphased and simply amused at the whole scene, it was all overwhelming. And then, there was you. Shocked at what you’d heard and looking at her in disbelief. God, she needed to get out of there… Before she had a chance to say much else, before she could think it all through, she stormed out. She didn’t even know how she ended up in the hallway, her legs carrying her on their own, when she heard your voice. “Wanda!” You were calling out her name, jogging slightly to catch up to her. “Wanda, please wait!” You called out again, seemingly not for the first time. “Please, we should talk about this.” You said, watching her stop, so she could wait for you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I had to get out of there.” She tried to say, her voice shaking a little with all the emotions that were raging inside her. “It’s ok. I understand.” You nodded, taking her hand, so you could help her feel more grounded.

The small touch between you, just the feeling of your hand in hers felt electrifying and she easily took the other one as well, pulling you close, until she could have you in her arms, securing you in a tight embrace and making you look up at her. “You don’t understand.” She said, hands shaking. “I’m so in love with you. I have been for months now. And I was so scared to tell you, so scared of loosing you, that I just…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “And the way they were talking to you, the way they all looked at you… I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. I want you to be mine. I want you all to myself. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms, I want to spend every day showing you that I love you. I want… You!” She confessed, her arms tightening around you, as if you’d escape her grasp somehow. “Oh, Wanda…” You whispered, a gentle smile farming on your lips as you watched her eyes sparkle. “I’ve been in love with you too. And I didn’t know how to tell you…” You said, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The moment felt heavy, thick with emotions as you both stood frozen in time, eyes glued to the other, when suddenly a voice, startled you both. “Maximoff, kiss the girl already!” Tony said smugly, followed by cheers from the people around him. Were they watching you on the hallway cameras this whole time? Not that you had time to think about that, when Wanda was leaning closer, her eyes flashing red, before she shortened the distance between you both, until she was only a breath away. Her features were so different now, she was smiling as she held you, biting her lips, eyes full of adoration and longing.

When she finally placed her lips on yours, a gentle caress at first, it felt like you were in heaven. You had wished for this moment for so long, imagined it every night, before you fell asleep, dreamt of it and longed for it and it was finally happening and you just couldn’t get enough. When she felt your eager lips on hers, Wanda didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out, asking for permission to taste you further and mingling with yours, once you allowed her access. It was only when she pushed you against the nearest wall, trapping your body with hers, that you finally paused. “We’re giving everyone a show.” You reminded her, head pointing to the camera in the corner. “Never.” Wanda smirked, her magic flashing once more, to show you that she had disabled the feed, before you even kissed. “Only I’m allowed to see you like this. I would never share you with anyone else.” She said with a note of possessiveness that you were growing to love, the more you saw it. She kissed you again. And then again, greedy hands squeezing your hips. She could never get enough of you. She felt drunk on you and only reluctantly pulled away when you both needed to breathe. “We should get back.” You said reluctantly. “Let’s go to my room instead. We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you all to myself.” She suggested. “I don’t want to share you.” “Wait… Is that why everyone thinks you’re so grumpy?” You suddenly realized, remembering countless times, when Wanda has wanted your undivided attention, skipping events and avoiding people. She didn’t say anything, but at this point you didn’t need her to. “We should show them how wrong they are. You’re amazing and warm and loving and sweet and I want everyone to know that.” You told her honestly. “But we’ll go to my room after?” She held you firmly, refusing to let you go just yet. “Yes, we’ll go to your room after.” You nodded happily. “I’ll even let you pick what we’re watching.” You added teasingly. Wanda smiled, pulling away just enough to let you straighten yourself and she held your hand, letting you guide her back to the common room, watching your hips sway seductively. It was sweet, she thought, that you believed she’d be wasting her time with sitcoms, when she could finally have you the way she’s wanted you for so long… _______________________________________________________ Hi, dear anon. I hope that you are happy with the story you got for your request! <3

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch #fanfiction request

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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter fourteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slightly suggestive, canonical violence, heavy mentions of blood/injuries, angst with some fluff at the end

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Hermione Granger was coined the smartest witch of her age for many reasons. Although brave and courageous at heart, she was wise and ambitious to the very marrow of her bones. It's how she noticed your changing affections for Mattheo Riddle, perhaps even before you did.

It started no earlier than October, when you no longer complained about your desk partner in Ancient Runes; when you'd meet up with her after the tutor sessions with bright eyes and a genuine smile, which she had not seen since the weeks leading up to the Department of Mysteries battle last summer. She knew what Riddle was like, but seeing the spark reignite in your soul began to change her perspective of him. Maybe he was inherently good after all.

When Harry told her and Ron what he had discovered about the two of you, she wasn't even a little surprised, but she was surprised that Ginny, too, was not in the least bit affected by the revelation. She watched in forlorn silence as Harry singlehandedly cut you off from them, despite everything you had done for him; everything you'd sacrificed. She had spent many nights berating him in the common room with tears in her eyes.

You were her very first friend at Hogwarts. You'd met on platform nine and three quarters in your first year and exclaimed that you absolutely adored the celebrity on the cover of the magazine she happened to be browsing through. Hermione had thought you were a muggleborn like her and was disappointed when you said you weren't. But she was elated to hear that your mother was just like her. You spent the entire trainride chatting about muggle affairs and your favourite books, and had both gotten up to help Neville find his toad which is how you met Ron and Harry.

You were the person she turned to when Ron first took to being a horrid nuisance to her. You were the person she went to for help finding out about Nicholas Flemmel and the Philosopher's stone. You were the person who wrote double the amount of notes in second year, while she was petrified, just so that she could have knowledge of all the things she'd missed out on in her absence. You were the one to subject yourself to Bellatrix Lestrange's cruciatus curse so that someone could help Harry fight of half a dozen Death Eaters by the arch in the strange room in the Department of Mysteries.

You were her sister and her best friend.

And she felt completely undeserving of all those years of sisterhood as she watched you traipse around the castle like a ghost for days, after the argument with Ron transpired outside the Hospital Wing.

She had slapped him so hard when they'd gotten far enough away from the sounds of your heart wrenching sobs. The sound had echoed so loudly through each of their ears, and she did not care about how Ginny had gasped in shock horror at her action. Or the way Harry flinched as Ron cradled his reddening cheek. It was well and truly deserved.

She did not speak to Harry or Ron for two weeks. Now she only offered vague, one-worded answers to their incessant questions. They acted as if they had done nothing wrong. It infuriated her.

Hermione wanted to find you and apologise profusely. As did Ginny. But each time they got the nerve to find you, you were surrounded by a guard of snakes. The Slytherin boys were extremely protective of you and it seemed that Mattheo no longer cared for secrecy; openly showing that you were his for all the world to see, though subtly enough that only those with keen eyes saw. Hermione saw.

You looked happier with them than you had ever been with any of your old friends. Hermione often wondered if you were meant to find them; wondered if she, Ron and Harry had been holding you back from your true potential.

She admired you. She loved you. She had to make this right.

She cornered you after an Ancient Runes lesson. A ballsy move, considering Mattheo, Theo and Pansy formed a protective wall of imposing doom behind you, like fallen angels promising retribution. She steeled her gaze, looked between all three of them, shot the true intentions of why she was doing this to their minds – she knew they were digging through her thoughts by the pin pricks in the back of her head. But not from you, never from you, although she would never hate you if you did.

"What do you want, Granger?" It's Pansy who speaks up first, her voice dark and promising unspeakable terror, if Hermione so much as said one thing out of line. She watches as you reach for the hand that softly brushes against your own and grip it with all your might; Mattheo's hand.

"I wanted to speak to you." she says directly to you. "Alone, if possible."

She can see the way Mattheo is about to rebute this.

"If not that's completely fine." its rushed and laced with desperation and you can see the emotions clouding your ex-best friend's face. The guilt and the longing. You want to hear her out.

You squeeze Mattheo's hand once before letting go and speaking to them all, without opening your mouth.

I want to hear what she has to say. You guys go ahead, I'll find you later.

Pansy's look of uncertainty is remedied by your insistence that you'd be fine, and Theo is a little reluctant but follows behind her. Mattheo is a silent and imposing statue of simmering rage at your side. And by the uncomfortable look on Hermione's face, you know he's in her head.

If she comes back crying, believe me when I say that you will regret it Granger. And if this is a farce to satisfy Potter's cruelty, he will pay for it too.

"Harry doesn't know I'm here. Neither does Ron. Ginny should be outside, she wants to talk too. I-if that's alright?"

"It's fine." your voice is softer than she's ever heard. Like you're wholly unsure if you can trust her word. It's a foreign and devastating feeling. And she hates it.

Mattheo's hand brushes your's before he reaches up and squeezes your waist affectionately, departing after Theo and Pansy moments later.

The classroom is blissfully empty. Now it's just you and Hermione, alone. The silence is tense and awkward as you each wait for Ginny to walk through the door.

She arrives moments after Mattheo's departure, steps slow and hesitant. But as she sees the two of you she releases a heavy sigh of relief and launches herself at you.

She's hugging you so tightly. Squeezing and squeezing until your arms, which are limp at your sides, instinctively wrap around her frame. She's mumbling apologies into the neck of your blue and bronze lined robe, body racking with subtle sobs, that you mirror as you melt into her embrace. Hermione joins you both after a moment and the three of you sink to the floor, twin tears streaking down your faces, apologies and words of love and hope echoing off the walls of the classroom.

Eventually the hug ends and the three of you are sat in a small circle between the desks, voices low and quiet as you listen to what the other has to say, all the while, Mattheo is a welcome presence in your mind, offering infinite reassurances as your heart races in your chest.

Hermione tells you how Harry and Ron seem like totally different people now. How she slapped Ron and did not utter a singular word to Harry until he apologised to her.

"Look I'm sorry, alright." he said one evening in the common room as she was researching for an upcoming essay. "Please talk to me, Mione."

"I'm not the one you should be apologising to." she mutters, not taking her eye off the words on the page. Harry scoffs as he sits down. "If you're going to bad mouth my best friend then go and find Ron. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

He rolls his eyes before he stands up and walks away.

Ginny feels terrible. She hadn't known it was you and Mattheo in the corridor until she heard his distinct low and raspy voice, too late. She wasn't quick enough in deterring Harry away from the space and she regrets it immensely. And the look on your face after Ron had shouted at you plays repetitively on her mind at all hours of the day.

Guilt errodes at your souls and all three of you feel the weight of it like you're being held beneath the surface of a very deep lake.

When the two of them finish explaining themselves, you inhale harshly before letting out a calming breathe.

"I can't say that your actions didn't hurt. Because then I'd be lying." you say, voice clouded in emotion. "I have been outcasted by everyone I thought I could call a friend. Even my own housemates don't speak to me. You didn't do anything to stop that, which really hurts."

There's a lump in your throat that continues to strain with every word you utter, eyes burn with the onslaught of more salty tears.

"I know that you don't trust them. And you have every reason not to. I understand that. But they have been here for me, when the two of you weren't. They've shown me what it means to be surrounded by kindness and safety and I love them all equally, no matter what has been said and done in the past. Yes they work for you-know-who. But they had no choice. You know who their families are, hell we fought most of them in June. They've been forced into this and I just want to get them out."

Ginny reaches over to squeeze your hand. You let her.

"I-" she pauses and looks at Hermione, who reaches over for your other hand. "We want to help you. In any way we can. We'll help you appeal to Dumbledore-"

"He already refused my plea for help." you say with a grimace.

Hermione gapes. "B-but he always says that-"

"-Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask." you say at the same time as she does. "Yes he said as much, and then followed with saying that they don't deserve to be helped."

"That's completely unfair." Ginny mutters. "If you were asking for anyone else he'd help in a heartbeat."

Hermione mumbles her agreement, face painted in complete disbelief at your revelation. She always believed that Dumbledore was a good and just man, but maybe she was wrong.

"We'll appeal to the Order." Ginny says. "Tonks' mum was in you-know-who's clutches when she went to the Order for help. And now she's effectively protected for life."

It's a good idea. It may work. But you have your doubts. The current members of the Order held their own prejudices, much like Voldemort's Death Eaters did.

"Tell your friends about the idea. Tell them that we'll try." Hermione says earnestly. "Nothing will ever justify our behaviour towards you, but let us make it right. Please. It's the least we can do for how badly we treated you."

What are they saying right now? Mattheo asks you, voice painted with curiousity.

They're going to help me keep you all safe.

And how, pray tell, will they achieve that? Mattheo sounds like he adamantly does not believe your words.

They have a way but I'm honestly not getting my hopes up until its more of a solid plan.

Okay, I trust you. How do you feel, love? His voice is a soft caress to all the corners of your mind. It's like he can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in waves.

I've got mixed feelings. I want to believe that they truely do mean what they're saying, but actions speak louder than words.

Even though you say that, Mattheo already knows that you'll forgive them. He may not agree with it because, in his opinion, they do not deserve your forgiveness, but he understands that you'd been akin to sisters for years before his family welcomed you into their circle with open arms. Of course you'd forgive them eventually; it doesn't mean that any of your found family would, though.

Hermione and Ginny watch as your eyes glaze over. It's obvious that you're talking mind to mind with Mattheo by the way your face heats with a blush and your face is alight with a soft, yet dazzling smile.

The three of you had once gossiped, in the cosy confines of the younger girl's bedroom, that Ginny's oldest twin brother was the perfect guy for you, but judging by your expression, they knew it then and there......Mattheo Riddle was your soulmate and you were completely and irrevocably in love with him.

An hour later, the three of you were sat under the shade of a willow tree that overlooked one of the beaches separating the Black Lake from the main courtyard.

It was as if there was never a blip in your friendship. Like old times. It felt normal. But there was an underlying feeling that everything was different at the same time. And the three of you had wordlessly accepted that fact.

"He needs to get rid of that stupid book." Hermione mutters dismally as you watch Harry and Ron stroll by, not sparing any of you a glance as they stare down at the battered Potions book in the former's hand.

"Still jealous that he's gotten better at potions than you? You're not top of the class anymore." You tease and she throws you a playful glare.

"Nevermind that. It's insidious." she says. "Just the other day he was asking if I'd heard of some kind of spell that was, quote on quote: 'for enemies'. It's completely ridiculous."

"I can't say that I disagree with you Mione." Ginny says grimly. "I overheard him telling Ron that he really wanted to test it out."

She shivers as if a blanket of cold was just thrust upon her. You're left bewildered. Harry seemed like a wholly different person and you didn't know what to make of it.

~∞~

A week later, you'd come to terms with the new state of your friendship with Hermione and Ginny; your Slytherin friends were weary at first when you told them of their plan to involve the Order, but it was Theo and Blaise who agreed tentatively to hear them out.

You tried to build a bridge between your two opposing groups, and it worked somewhat: Hermione had bonded well with Theo and Ginny found a kinship in Pansy's fierce spirit as well as Enzo's witty humour. Even Luna, who had accompanied Ginny one day to see you, had found solace in Blaise's quiet and calm nature.

Draco was the most alert by your insistence of them all speaking – he was weary that Hermione did not like nor trust him and she was uneasy around the boy who had called her unsavoury names for years. But even Hermione could see how worn down and tired Draco looked, and cut him some slack.

After another drooling day of school, you were lying in Mattheo's bed, clad in nothing but one of his dark tshirts as you lied against his chest, breathing in his alluring scent of cedar, musk and smoke. After completing your homework together, the two of you had nothing better to do than laze about, sharing languid kisses and slow, soft sex.

You were talking quietly to one another, sweet giggles and deep chuckles passing between you as you bathed in the serenity of each others' presence. Mattheo's hand was tracing circles against the back of your thighs, causing you to shift away with a breathy laugh.

"That tickles. Stop it." you say, mirth shining in your eyes as you playfully glare at him as his fingers dance across your soft, sensitive skin.

"Or what?" he challenges with a smirk that has you sitting up against his stomach, the ridges of his abs brushing sensually against your aching core.

Safe to say, your clothes ended up on the floor once more and the room was once again filled with your combined sensual moans and whines.

Later, you're cuddled against him again, tired and spent as you allow sleep to overtake you. But it never comes. Enzo and Ginny burst through the door in a panicked flurry.

"Ever heard of knocking, Berkshire?" Mattheo snaps, but at the look of alarm painting his friend's face, he sits up in rapt attention.

"What is it, Enzo?" he asks, using one hand to pull the duvet over your bodies to shield you from their averting gazes.

"It's Harry and- and Malfoy." Ginny says, breathlessly as if they'd run here. "They're dueling in one of the second floor bathrooms."

That statement has the two of you scrambling for your clothes as Enzo and Ginny leave to wait outside the door.

Uniforms shoved back on in a hurry, rumpled and creased from your earlier activities, the two of you follow behind the panicking pair as they lead you to Moaning Myrtle's floor. You hear the duel before you see it. Draco and Harry are throwing insults and curses back and forth in rapid fire blows. You would be mesmerised by the feeling of all the power that sings to you, if you weren't so worried and horror stricken at what you'd stumbled into.

Upon entering the scene you can't help but gape at the destruction. The porcelain sinks lining the marbled walls are cracked and broken, crumbling to the floor; pipes bursting with a never ending onslaught of spraying water that washes across the floor like tempered glass.

Your arrival distracts Draco momentarily as he turns towards the four of you, weariness clouding his light grey eyes. It's all the time he needs for Harry to surprise all of you with his menacing words as he casts the final spell, signifying the end of the harrowing duel.

"Sectum-sempra!" he shouts and Draco releases a pained yelp before falling to the floor as Ginny gasps in horror. Blood soaks the water around him, spreading out like slick oil against it as he writhes in pain. Slashes of blood saturate his white shirt, as if a knife had been hacked against his skin.

The room is a flurry of activity as Ginny starts shouting at Harry as Enzo and Mattheo pull out their wands defensively. But you pay them no mind, immediately going to Draco's side, trying your best to comfort him as you rip open his shirt to see the damage that Harry had caused.

His torso is caked in blood, gashes of skin torn open by the force of the spell. He's lying in a pool of it, the volume increasing with each passing second. Draco was dying. Slowly and painfully.

Moaning Myrtle appeared from the pipes screaming "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" repeatedly as you worked tirelessly, which was not helping the onslaught of overwhelming emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

It's okay. You're okay. You need to stay awake Draco. Please stay awake. You reassure him as you mumble a series of spells. He begins writhing more.

Episkey doesn't work.

Ferula fails to expell bandages large enough to cover the gaping holes in his chest.

Basic wound sealing spells are cast in vain.

You have tried everything you can think of. But nothing is working. Tears of frustration begin to slide down your cheeks.

"What's taking you so long?" Enzo shouts at you, drawing your attention away from Draco. Your breathing is panicked and uncertain and Mattheo tilts his head towards Enzo, a silent threat to watch his tone as he sees the slick flow of tears running down your face.

"I don't- nothing is working." you say breathelessly. "I don't know what to do."

Ginny looks horrified. As do Mattheo and Enzo. Harry only looks intrigued, no trace of guilt paints his face. You narrow your eyes at him.

"It's from that book, isn't it?" you accuse and he flinches at your icy tone. "The Half Blood Prince wouldn't be stupid enough to not know a counter curse. What. Is. It?"

He doesn't answer you fast enough for Mattheo's liking. Despite not understanding what you're talking about, he turns to the bespectacled boy with barely contained rage as he points his wand in the direction of the 'Chosen One'.

"Answer her, Potter!" he snarls and Harry snaps his head in Mattheo's direction, shooting him a glare until Ginny screams at him to answer you.

"Vulnera Sanentur." he says reluctantly, as if he was waiting to see how long the effects of the spell he cast would take place. As if he was waiting for Death to sink it's claws into Draco's soul.

Immediately you work on each of the gashes on Draco's torso and they begin to heal over for the most part, but he's still loosing too much blood.

"Someone needs to help me seal his wounds properly. I can't do it by myself." you say desperately and Enzo is immediately at your side, both of you mumbling the spell and casting your wands over the various wounds that litter Draco's pallid skin. Meanwhile Mattheo and Ginny stare at Harry as if he'd grown two heads, sharing a knowing look of understanding that Harry does not miss, nor does he like. He grits his teeth at his enemy and the girl he's infatuated by as Ginny, not so subtly, inches closer to Mattheo's side. Mattheo's eyes soften at the fear coating the younger girl's cerulean eyes.

No sooner than you'd entered the fray, Professor Snape comes gliding into the room, face livid, and pushes you and Enzo away from Draco's still writhing body. He performs the healing charm with practiced ease, going over each jagged cut, that you failed to heal, with graceful precision. If you weren't so overcome with emotion, you would've put the glaringly obvious pieces together.

The flow of blood eased rapidly and the wounds knotted together intricately as he repeated the spell, tenderly wiping away the blood that coated Draco's face. You knelt close to his side, reaching out to stroke his limp hand, which was alarmingly cold to the touch. You and Enzo were both covered in a mixture of blood and water which soaked through your uniforms, sticking to you like a second skin.

No sooner than he'd arrived, Professor Snape had Draco leaning against your side and was talking softly to the boy, who was barely conscious.

"You must go to the Hospital Wing. There may be some scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. Come...."

With Enzo's help, he supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter – You will wait here for me."

Harry, at least, had the gall to look ashamed.

You're still kneeling on the floor, staring at your blood soaked hands when Mattheo appears in front of you, taking your hands in his, paying no mind to the blood soaking through his trousers.

"You did good, darling." he says softly, so only you can hear, neither pay attention to how Ginny inches closer to you two, away from Harry's wide eyes. "So good."

"If Snape didn't turn up–" you don't want to finish the sentence, don't even want to think about what could've happened.

"If he didn't end up coming, you and Enzo would have worked tirelessly to seal Draco's wounds to the best of your abilities." he reassures you, having read the emotions as clear as day on your face. "Come on, let's go and get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You allow him to pull you to your feet and you're only reminded of his presence when Harry scoffs.

"Got something to say, Potter?" he snarls as his hand rests against the small of your back, at Harry who glares at Mattheo obstinately.

"He cursed Katie Bell. We all know it. He deserved what he had coming for him. I can't believe she willingly helped him after everything he's done to us. After everything you have done."

He spoke as if you were not standing right in front of him. You barely recognise the boy who you called your best friend for nearly six years. Harry had barely finished his sentence when Mattheo had left your side and launched at him, throwing punches and blows in Harry's face. That's not to say that Harry did not return the favour. Both boys' blood mingled with the softening pink whorls in the water. You and Ginny were screaming at them to stop; they did not acknowledge your pleas. The last time they fought like this was over a year ago.

The conduit around your neck crackles with energy and you fight the urge to break it. Instead you wrap a fist around it almost instinctively and draw out power that surges through the room, separating the two from eachother with little to no effort. They're both panting and glaring at eachother as they fight against the restraint of your power.

"That's enough." you say firmly, voice loud and commanding in the silence, wholly different to its usual cadence. Ginny is staring at you in awe, as Mattheo stares with pride. Harry looks at you with uncontainable fury and fear.

Because you're glowing.

There's a faint indigo aura surrounding your body that pulses with energy as you hold the two boys away from eachother. When Mattheo stops fighting you, you let go of the hold and watch as they slump in their spots on opposite sides of the room, both sporting matching wounds of split lips and bruised eyes.

"What the fuck are you?" Harry mumbles to himself, just as Snape returns to the bathroom. The professor looks at you in barely restrained approval before instructing you, Mattheo and Ginny out of the room. You each go without hesitation, leaving Harry at the mercy of a furious Snape.

~∞~

Parting ways with Ginny at the intersection between your two common rooms, Mattheo lets you guide him towards the Ravenclaw tower, which was closer to the dungeons that were on the opposite side of the castle to where you currently were.

He follows you silently, staring at you as if he can still see the faint glow of the indigo aura that surrounded you. He didn't think you could get any more ethereal. You prove him wrong every single day.

"Do you think Draco will be okay?" you ask quietly as you reach the polished bronze Knocker that conceals the entrance to your estranged common room.

"He's strong. I know he'll be okay." Mattheo reassures you, but he chooses not to tell you that Draco's fate will be far worse if he fails to fix the wardrobe that they'd been working on for the better part of half a year. All their fates would be far worse.

You breath out a relieved sigh in response, just in time for the Eagle to blink preternaturally at the two of you. You laugh softly as Mattheo shivers at the utter human-ness of the brass eagle.

'I can break. I can be clogged. I can be attacked. I can be given. I can be kept. I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?'

It only takes you a moment to figure out the riddle and Mattheo sees the exact second that the answer fills your head, even as his stays blank with confusion.

"A heart." You say and he swears that the eagle winks as the door swings open, paving way for the sea of eyes that stare at the two of you in horror.

You realise then that your still covered, practically head to toe, in Draco's blood, skirt and knee high white socks soaked through from the water, stained a light pink. Shaking yourself out of your haze, you grip Mattheo's hand and drag him towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, ignoring the eyes that are burning holes into your skin as you retreat.

You wandlessly unlock the door that leads into your dorm room and watch as Mattheo stares around in awe.

"I've never been in here before." he says quietly and you turn to him with furrowed brows.

"Yes you have. Haven't you?"

It dawns on you then, that in all the months you'd known him, you had never consciously invited him into your bedroom. It had always been his common room; his dormitory or the Room of Requirement. Never your's.

"No. I haven't." he responds, laughing at the surprise that appears on your face as he casts his surveying eyes around your room. "It's very you."

"Thankyou?" you respond questioningly which causes him to laugh more, then wince as the movement of his laughter tugs at the cut that splits his lip.

Eyes full of concern you direct him to your bed and push him down by his broad shoulders to sit, ignoring the way his brows wiggle suggestively while you find a first aid kit to remedy his injuries.

He's still smirking when you return from the bathroom, green box in hand, which you place by his side as he guides you to stand between his parted thighs. The two of you bask in the content silence as you use a damp flannel to wipe away the dried blood that has begun to crust over his soft skin, mumbled apologies escaping your lips whenever he hisses if you accidentally catch one of his cuts with the fabric.

"You could easily wish these away with a bit of magic, you know. It's a thousand times faster." he says, hands caressing the backs of yours thighs as he looks up at you, but he makes no move to stop you or push you away.

"That feels uncaring." you mumble in response as you use a bit of rubbing alcohol against the cut on his lip. "Sorry." you say as he winces.

"It's alright, love." he mumbles, leaning his head into your stomach once you finished. "Potter can really throw a punch."

Your laughter comes out as a scoff. "Maybe. But you should've seen the state you left him in."

He smirks against the damp fabric of your shirt and you swat at his curly head when you practically feel his ego inflating.

"I did give him a good beating, didn't I?"

"You're so vexingly arrogant." you say with a soft laugh that has him leaning out of your stomach to stare at you again, a mischievous glint reflecting in his honey brown eyes.

"It's one of the many attributes of mine that you fell for though, isn't it Princess." he says with so much self assurance that you just have to roll your eyes, but it's difficult to hide your smile.

"Shut up." you reply as his arms reach up to wrap around your middle, bringing you into his embrace, but he cringes away at the feel of your still wet clothes.

"Let's get you out of these yeah? You're practically shivering." he says as he untucks your shirt from your skirt, affection and...and love overtaking his soft eyes as he stares up at you, quietly stripping you of your ruined clothes that he throws into a pile at the foot of your bed.

~∞~

"Thank you, Théo." you say quietly, almost in a whisper, after you're both fresh and clean from a shower, all wounds healed over with a bit of his magic.

"What for?" he asks you, just as softly, hand reaching up to brush a loose wisp of hair that had fallen into your face.

You don't answer him, not verbally at least, instead pressing a slow kiss to his mouth that he happily reciprocates, leaning in until he's hovering over you, trapping your body below his.

For protecting me. For defending me. For giving Ginny stability, despite how you feel towards her. I saw the way she gravitated towards you. Just...thank you. Your words have his mouth working harder against your's, causing a moan to escape you as his tongue licks against the seam of your lips, which part eagerly for him.

Always, sweet girl. I will always defend you and those of your friends who are worthy of defending. He replies before detaching his lips from your's, with retraint.

"Weasley could have easily let Enzo find us himself, could've even encouraged Potter to continue their duel. But she didn't; she watched a boy almost die, watched her friend heal the same boy who terrorised you all for years. She could've easily gone to Harry's defence, but she didn't. She looked to us for direction. Not him. That says a lot." he said aloud with a sigh, strands of his curly hair falling over his forehead, causing his eyes to twitch in irritation.

You used the tips of your fingers to coil the stubborn curls away from his face as he speaks, a new sense of admiration, trust and calm washing over you as you stare at your lover.

"It may take time for me to trust her, Granger too," he continues. "But I see how much she looks up to you, trusts you and vice versa. I can learn to forgive them for their wrongdoings. For you, my love."

"Thank you, Théo." you repeat as you bury your face into his shirtless chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

He smiles as he presses a kiss to your temple, unaware that today's events would spiral into something unfathomable that Mattheo Riddle should've seen coming from miles away.

~∞~

did i mention how much i love soft!matty😫😫 (in every chapter since they got together 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

i had to end it with some fluff because i'm sure you can guess what's gonna happen in the next few chapters lol

also thought id let you know that meadow's siphon powers are now fully manifested, she just has to learn how to control it (which we see briefly in this chapter)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #serendipity series #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #harry potter #pansy parkinson #ron weasley #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #ginny weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #hermione granger #draco malfoy #angst #flangst

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lady-ashfade · 7 months

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Day 1 Of Fictober

Love potion

Yandere!Class 1A x Witch Reader Hc’s

Ask:Class 1a got hit by one of their potions and Reader is desperately trying to get an antidote. @serxinns

Warnings: Love potion, Yandere tendencies, obsession, Slight touching without permission.

Infecting the whole class at the same time was a mess. You had left your fail experiment out in your studying room and denki decide it would be funny to take some, and poor it in the food. You had no clue what it did but you knew it stay away, a feeling running down your spine or whispers in your ear.

Denki though it would have been something small like coughing up fire or needing to go right to the bathroom. But no, he infected the whole class with a obsession potion that made them deadly in love with you.

A hair had feel into your cauldron and a few mess up and you had made new potion. Some could say you had made the first one of its kind.

They followed you around the whole night. Their eyes on you at each second with a new sprinkle in their eyes.

At the table they all started to bicker at each other for unknown reasons to you. The girls started to grabbed ahold of you and soon you were picked up from your seat with your arms pulled in different directions. Mina held on and tugged you to her, then on the other side was Uraraka who did the same thing.

“She should sit with me!” “No! She’s with us!”

You groaned and look at the two very confused at the new aura in the air. Soon you were grabbed by Kirishim with Mina “I think sweetie belongs with us.” Then another hand wrapped itself around your wrists. You see deku glaring at Kiri with a glare you had never seen before.

“She’s in our group, I advise you to let go.” Dekus grip tights and the waves and sounds of his quirk get louder. Your face drops and pull you hands away from both of them which takes them back.

You rub your wrists, “I’ll just eat in my room. You guys are all being weird….Did something happen today?” Looking around at all of them your stomach drops. All their gazes are full of hunger.

You pick up your tray and turn to walk out of them room. Something didn’t feel right and the universe was trying to warn you. Heading to the door iida rushed in front of you and blocked off the door way.

“I must ask you to stay! It’s rude to ignore your friends, especially when we’re all worried about you.” You give him and head tilt.

“Worried? Why, I’m fine. If anything I should be the one worried.”

Then a pair of arms wrap around your arm and a head rubs up against you, “We all just care about you, so much.”

“Ribbit- Yeah, can’t we care for you?” Froppy comes up behind her friend and stare at you strangely.

Then all of them are surrounded you and looking at you, then girls taking it to calm you down and baby you. Through all of this you are just very confused. Scared for their well being and your own. So looking around for anything to help you or distract yourself your eyes fall on something that makes your mouth hang open.

Oh. It all made sense.

A potion bottle from your collection with barely any potion left within it. You made a note that this is some sort of affection potion and hopefully it will go away in a few hours.

“I apologize, I see someone in here took some of my potion this morning and infected all of you with it. Don’t worry I’ll find a antidote, I just need some time.” You slip your arm away from her.

As soon as you try and escape pass them, Momo and Hagakure jump in front of you. “But, we aren’t in any harm.” Momo gave you a unusual smile.

“Y/n-San is always so nice to us, she’s too cute.” You blush when a new pair of arms wrapped around from behind and a chin pressed on your other shoulder.

It was Jirou and her face was almost as red as yours and with a shy face, almost a pout. “Stay with us for a few.”

As the girls started to circle around you and start to touch your hair, or body and giggle. The boys stare jealously and darkly at them, wishing they could touch you as well.

There was a small fight after between the BakuSquad, DekuSquad, and others that group together on who you should be with for the rest of the night. Whoever won you got squeezed all night between the groups and babied over.

The next school day was stressful because you got pulled around like a play toy. It was over every small thing, who you got to sit next to, who you get to train with, and even who got to walk you to class.

The main three in class was harder to deal with because they were the group “leaders”. You had bruises on your wrists on how much you got tugged around.

At one point Bakugou pulled you into him and rested is head on your shoulders while pressing you into him. His hands wrapped around your hips and you swear he was trying to kiss you.

There was only one class you had without them, and you used that to make antidote to use on them. So later that night you slipped it into the cookies you made and guilt tripped them into eating it.

“If you don’t love me, I get it. I must make horrible cookies.” You faked crying and rushed away with heart shaped cookies. The class ran after you and shoved them down their throats to make you happy. You smile as they all finish and waited for them to be normal again.

There was only one problem, it never worked.

“How do you feel?”

A shiver ran down your sides as a laugh that sounded off from deku, a smile that was too wide and creepy.

“As in love with you as ever.”

Mina came up and twirled your hair, “Must have made a “Antidote” to make us normal again. Silly you, there’s no changing us.”

She was right. You couldn’t figure out how to make them normal again. There was only hope to keep you going, to one day get them back.

#yandere class 1a #yandere class 1a scenarios #yandere class 1 a #yandere class 1A x reader #yandere UA #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere dekusquad x reader #yandere bakusquad x reader #yandere bakusquad #yandere dekusquad #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima #yandere mina ashido x reader #fictober 2023

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (pt 2)

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.

Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm

A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.

Fmo masterlist

Blog Masterlist

A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.

The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.

Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.

All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.

When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.

You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.

You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.

It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.

The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.

“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”

You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.

“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”

You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.

It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.

Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.

Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.

If this is going to work you need to up the ante.

So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.

It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.

But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.

There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.

As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.

“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”

You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.

Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.

You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.

You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.

“She’s gotten quite good.”

Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.

“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”

You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.

“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“

You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.

“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”

The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.

Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.

“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”

You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.

“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.

His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.

“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”

Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.

“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”

This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.

When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.

Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.

“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.

He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.

“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”

Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.

The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.

But there’s Aegon.

Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.

He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.

You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.

“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”

You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.

“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.

He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.

“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.

“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”

Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.

“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.

You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.

“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”

“Aegon.”

His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”

The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.

“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”

“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.

“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”

Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.

“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”

After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.

“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”

Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.

“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”

The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.

“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”

She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.

You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.

Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator

#aemond x oc #hotd imagine #my writing #sorry for the delay.. the tagging kicked my butt 😭#also if there’s typos I’m sorry 💀💀#also sorry for once again leaving it ambiguous… couldn’t help myself #aemond targaryen x reader #black!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #Aemond targaryen

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marvelobsessed134 · 5 months

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Bunny’s first Christmas

This is part of my 12 days of fics

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Bunny hybrid!Reader

Warnings: rough sex, strap on (r receiving), talks of breeding, pet/owner dynamics, mommy kink, squirting.

Summary: In which you spend your first Christmas with your mommy

Being a bunny hybrid can be hard. But not when you’re owned by Wanda Maximoff. Or mommy as you call her. Mommy takes very good care of her bunny. She spoils you with gifts and love. And she fucks you hard anywhere around the house.

You always walk around in the prettiest little dresses, the light pink collar with tags of your name and her name underneath with a phone number in case you get lost. You love wearing the collar. Gives you contentment that you have an owner. Lots of bunnies don’t have one. And if they do, they’re usually neglected and only are used for sex. While that’s usually why someone would buy a hybrid, they still need to be treated with love and care.

Your ears, long and brown, always standing up and on high alert. Which is why you could hear Christmas Dreaming by Laufey playing in the kitchen.

Curiously, you walked towards the kitchen to find the witch making Christmas cookies. Your nose twitched at the smell and you ran over to her.

“Hi, bunny.” She chirped, scratching behind your ears the way you like it. You hummed.

“Hi mommy.” You responded, “what are you doing?”

“Oh, mommy’s just making some cookies for Christmas. You wanna try one?”

“Yes please.” Gosh, always so polite. Such a good girl. Wanda gave you a cookie and you nibbled on it for a bit. See, you’ve never experienced Christmas before. Being in that god awful hybrid shelter. Sometimes people would donate gifts for the homeless hybrids but that was about it.

“Mmm it’s s’good, mommy.” You moaned.

“Glad you like it, bunny.” Wanda couldn’t help but get turned on at the sounds you were making. And poor you, unaware of what you were doing to your mommy.

But the redhead knew she shouldn’t fuck you right now, since she needs to bake more cookies for Tony’s stupid Christmas party. She’s never resented the billionaire more in her life.

How dare he keep her away from fucking her precious bunny when he’s not even here! She groaned in frustration which caught your ears.

“Mommy…what’s wrong?” You asked timidly, placing the cookie back down on the tray.

“Sorry baby but I’m just so stressed right now. That’s all.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

Fuck it, Wanda thought, Starks cookies can wait.

“Yeah, actually.” She replied, “Bend over the counter.” You were taken back by her sudden demand, her voice deep and harsh. You quickly bent over the counter, you knew what was going to happen and it made you weak with arousal.

The witch roughly lifted your dress up and pulled your cotton panties down before unbuckling her belt pulling her strap out.

She tapped it against your wet folds, collecting your slick before pounding into you with no warning.

You squealed, holding onto the edge of the counter. Wanda grabbed your hips firmly as she fucked into you. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.” She was proud she was able to come up with a spell that allowed her to feel everything with the strap. She felt your sweet walls clenching around her cock.

“Mommy! Oh so good!” You moaned.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, pet. Gonna breed you so good one day.” Wanda smacked your ass.

“Ahh- oh fuck-“ you cried.

Wanda tugged on your little bushy cottontail which made you moan.

“Oh fuck honey, go ahead and cum for me.” She hissed.

You clenched around her cock, squirting out your release. She groaned, coming to her own orgasm.

Finally, the witch pulled out of you and put your panties back on. And as you stood up she fixed your dress for you.

You turned around and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Mmm merry Christmas bunny.”

“Merry Christmas, mommy.”

#marvel x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #bunny!reader #Wanda maximoff x bunny!reader #hybrid!reader #12 days of fics

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octoberclidan · 2 months

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Needing You

Request: With absolutely no pressure, could I request some comfort for our sweet (and vulnerable) Dean? Something very soft and gentle? 💚

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

Dean didn't wait for either Sam or [Y/N]. As soon as he'd turned off the engine, he was out of the car and marching towards their motel room. He didn't take his bag, he didn't look at either of them, he didn't say anything, he just left. Everything that could've gone wrong on the hunt, had gone wrong. Nothing about their day had gone well. It had been a cold, dark, rainy day since the moment they'd woken up. Dean had been captured by a witch, his absolute least favourite thing to hunt, and it had taken Sam and [Y/N] all day to find him. While he'd been magically held against a wall in the witch's home, he watched two of her victims die. He couldn't physically do anything, and there was nothing he could say to stop her. He was to be her third victim, but right before she cut his neck, Sam had burst into the room and the witch disappeared. Dean had fallen to the ground, and had pushed both Sam and [Y/N] away when they tried to help him up.

[Y/N]'s view of Dean marching to their motel room was obscured by the raindrops rolling down the car's window. She hadn't tried to talk to him the entire ride back; she knew better after Dean had snapped at Sam just for clearing his throat. She sighed, and was about to open her door when Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. "He'll be okay. He'll punch something, get drunk, and sleep it off. We'll be back on the hunt in the morning". He cringed slightly when he heard the door to their room slam. "I think we should probably see about getting a second room and giving him some space tonight".

"Do you think he'll be okay on his own? I've seen him beating himself up after hunts before, but I've never seen him like this", she said. [Y/N] had a deep level of concern and care for Dean. She loved both Winchesters, she'd do anything for either of them, and she hated seeing them upset. Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"He won't let himself lose control, we still have to find the witch. He'll be good by the morning". He finally opened his door, the wind blowing some rain into the car. "Wait here until I get us a room, I'll be back in a few minutes". [Y/N] watched as he pulled his jacket up over his head and quickly got out of the car, closing his door behind him and jogging over to the motel's reception. She felt a bit uneasy leaving Dean alone when he was probably in there breaking something and hating himself, but she knew that no one knew him and what he needed better than Sam.

The door to the reception opened and it caught her eyes, she saw Sam jogging back to the car. She grabbed her bag from beside her as Sam opened up the trunk to grab his own, and they quickly ran through the parking lot to get to their new room, which happened to be the one right next to Dean's. Sam opened the door and ushered [Y/N] inside, and she shivered as droplets of rain water fell from her hair. "You wanna take the first shower?" Sam asked as he put his bag down on the desk beside the window, and [Y/N] nodded.

"Yeah, I'll make it quick", she said and made her way into the bathroom, taking her bag with her. The water wasn't exactly hot, but it did warm her up a little bit. She couldn't keep her thoughts from wondering to Dean, thinking about what must be going through his head and what he was up to in the other room. She began to grow even more worried as she turned off the shower and started to pull on the old comfortable clothes she kept for sleeping in; one of Dean's old band t-shirts, and some very well worn sweatpants. What if he decided to go to a bar? Dean had no issues with driving after drinking on an ordinary day, but what if he tried to drive home after drinking too much in the dark and rain?

Once she was dressed, she opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds and looked up at her as she walked out. "Shower's all yours, just a warning though, the water's not hot", she said as she made her way over to the other bed.

"Noted", Sam sighed as he pushed himself off the bed to go get his clothes and toiletries. "Are you okay?" He asked before he went in.

"Yeah, just worried I guess", she shrugged. He nodded in understanding as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She heard the shower turn on, and she decided to pull out her journal to make notes on the hunt. She'd only just sat down on a bed and opened her journal when she heard a crash behind her head, and she spun around on the bed to look at the wall behind her. A few seconds later, and there was a bang on the wall, shaking it along with her bed frame. Dean. Without stopping to think, she tossed her journal down beside her and shot out of bed. She scribbled down a quick note for Sam on a little post-it that was on the desk, and headed straight out of the room.

Although the corridor outside the room had a cover over it, the floor was still wet from the rain being blown onto it from the wind. The wind and rain hit her immediately and she ran to the next door, banging on it and hoping Dean wouldn't take too long to let her in, hoping he hadn't injured himself, hoping he could let her in. When ten seconds went by without any answer, she banged on the door again. "Damnit Dean, let me in! I'm getting soaked out here!" She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms as she stood there being attacked by the weather, her clothes having no waterproof capabilities.

The door opened slightly and she looked up to find a red-eyed Dean. He looked her up and down before sighing and opening the door wide enough to let her in. She slipped inside and kept her arms around herself as she waited for him to close the door and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" He mumbled as he kept his head down and walked past her to his bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and she noticed that his knuckles were bloody as he held his hands on his lap.

"Will you let me look at those?" She asked, walking over to him. He pulled his hands back as she reached down for them, but she insisted. He didn't put up a fight as she held his hands in hers and lifted them up to look at them. "I'm going to clean them and wrap them".

"They're fine".

"Dean", she sighed. "They're not fine, and you're not fine either. You can talk about it with me if you want to, or you can sit there in silence, but either way, I'm taking care of these hands". She gently squeezed them before placing them back in his lap. She looked around the room before remembering that Dean hadn't taken his bag in from the car. "Just... wait here, don't move, I'll be back in less than a minute". He didn't say anything and he didn't look up at her as she quickly left the room.

She ran through the rain back to the other room and let herself in to find Sam sitting on his bed reading through a book. "How is he?" He asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"He's Dean", she sighed, looking through her bag for her first aid kit.

"You gonna bring a coat this time?" He asked as she went to open the door again. She paused and nodded.

"Good idea", she chuckled as she grabbed her jacket, holding it over her head. "I'm not sure when I'll be back... if I can get him to open up maybe I'll just stay with him, are you good here?"

"Good luck, yeah I'm fine, just let me know if you need anything", he smiled at her. He knew Dean was in safe hands with [Y/N]. Although he knew Dean better than anyone, he also knew that if anyone could get him to open up and hate himself a little less, it would be her.

Dean was waiting for [Y/N] this time with the door open, not wanting her to stand out in the rain any longer than needed. She smiled at him in thanks as he held the door open for her, and he caught himself smiling back. He could feel his anger start to dissipate, and he cursed her in his mind for having that effect on him. He felt like he deserved to feel bad, he felt like he didn't deserve to be smiling. "Okay, sit on the bed so I can clean those hands up", she said as she grabbed a chair.

"I can do it myself".

"No you can't, I've seen you doing it yourself and you're shit at it, now sit", she placed the first aid kit down on the bed and put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to shake his head and follow her instructions like he always ended up doing. He sat down and she pulled the chair closer so she could sit opposite him, their knees touching. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled out an antiseptic wipe to start to clean it. He hissed at the initial sting, but it soon went away. She held his hand in one hand, stroking her thumb up and down soothingly, while she wiped his knuckles with her other. She lifted his hand closer to her face to inspect it, and then threw the wipe away and took out some gauze.

"It's not bad enough to need that stuff", Dean protested, but one glare from her and he stopped, letting her gently wrap his hand. She placed it on his lap as he took his other hand, which wasn't as bad, but he knew she'd insist on wrapping it too anyway. He looked into her face as she worked on his second hand, noticing how she stuck her tongue out slightly between her teeth in concentration. He'd never known anyone so beautiful, inside and out, and he didn't know how he was lucky enough to have her as a constant in his life.

"There, all done", she smiled as she let go of his hand and packed away her supplies. When she looked back at Dean, he was looking down at his hands, and a tear fell from his eye to darken a little spot on his bandage. "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours?" She asked, gently covering his hand with hers. He shook his head and sniffed, looking away from her. "Come on, talk to me, I'm right here", she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, slowly turning his face back to her.

"I was useless today", he said.

"Dean-", she sighed but he cut her off and took his hand back from her, standing up abruptly and forcing her back a little so he could walk away. She stared at him as he started to pace up and down the room. "Dean-", she tried again, but he stopped and glared at her through teary eyes.

"Don't 'Dean' me, okay? I fucked up. I let my guard down, got caught by a fucking witch and watched two people die, knowing I couldn't do shit but wait to be rescued. I'm supposed to save people, I'm not supposed to need saving".

"Dean, how many times have you saved me? Or Sam? Does that make either of us less of a hunter? Does that make either of useless?"

"No, but it's different".

"How exactly is it different? Why can't Dean Winchester need saving sometimes? You're not invincible Dean, you're human. Shit happens. Sometimes everyone needs a little saving. Sometimes you can't save everyone, no matter how good you are". She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him. He turned his face away from her, but she reached up tentatively to put her hand on his cheek. He didn't resist when she turned his face to look down at her, and once he looked into her eyes, he broke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck as he started to cry quietly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood there in his embrace, letting him get his emotions out. She was almost afraid to make any movement or say anything, in case it pulled him out of his vulnerability, but after a few minutes she leaned back slightly and looked up at him.

He blinked through his tears and sniffed, then frowned at her. "You're damp", he mumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"Yeah, it's raining".

"I'm sorry".

"For what?" She asked, rubbing his back gently.

"Being like this", he shrugged, "crying and punching things and..." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of his train of thought.

"And what?" She prompted him, tilting her head in curiosity. He paused in contemplation for a moment, glancing between her eyes, feeling comfort when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him. His hands fell to her waist and he held her firmly, pulling her back in closer to his chest.

"And needing you".

He was finally opening up to her, and she sighed in relief, knowing this meant he'd be okay. "I will always be here for you, Dean", she said.

"Is it okay?" He asked, looking down at her, his face suddenly full of worry. "Is it okay that I need you?"

"Dean", she said, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. "We all need each other. Sam and I need you, just like you and I need Sam".

"Like Sam and I need you", he nodded, and his hands left her waist to hold her arms, gently squeezing them as if to confirm to himself that she was real, and that she was standing in front of him in that moment. "You're shivering", he noted, "I'll get you some dry clothes". He pulled away from her and went to his bag, routing around and pulling out one of his clean flannels and a pair of sweatpants and handing them to her. "Can you... I mean", he cleared his throat nervously. "If you want to, you can stay in this room tonight. I don't think you should go back out into the rain".

"Is it okay with you if I stay here?" She smiled back at him.

"Yes", he said quickly. "I need you tonight... just uh, you make me feel calm, it's like I struggle to feel angry around you", he chuckled softly.

"You have a similar effect on me".

"Really?"

"Dean, your hugs make everything better".

"Come here", he reached his arm out to her and she put the clothes down onto the bed before going to him and being engulfed in his arms again. He held her tightly this time and she smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "You're still damp", he chuckled, and she felt the vibrations from his chest on the side of her face.

"I don't care", she squeezed him back and closed her eyes, hoping they'd somehow end up sharing a bed so she could stay in his arms for the night. She knew he was going to be okay, and that's all she needed in that moment.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats

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flowerandblood · 22 days

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (21)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When she woke up in her chamber the sun was already slowly setting behind the walls of the Red Keep. She muttered under her breath in displeasure, twisting in her place, feeling discomfort in her lower abdomen and looked down, feeling a wave of disappointment and pain once again.

She sighed heavily, putting aside the already cold purse of water that had brought her great relief and allowed her to sleep for a few hours. Although she was distraught and terrified, the thought of her uncle's reaction and behaviour towards her made a warm, pleasant feeling spill over her heart.

She smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if he had just been at the Small Council meeting and would be back soon.

It wasn't long when the door to her chamber opened, and a moment later her husband walked in, pale, staring at her with wide-open eye.

Her heart pounded harder in horror at that look.

"We have received your mother's demands."

The word that she wanted to see her, to speak to her, and the fact that Aegon had agreed to it at the same time filled her with joy and horror.

She missed her and longed to hear her voice again, but she did not know what her mother was planning, what she hoped to hear from her lips.

What if she believed that her daughter had married her uncle just to survive?

That her affection for him was a lie and she would stab him in the back when she got the chance?

Her husband didn't seem pleased either as the affair became more and more complicated and there seemed to be no end to it all, no solution they could reach together.

On the second morning after King sent his response, a raven arrived in the Red Keep with word that her mother had agreed to the arrangements and would indeed be waiting with her husband in the Eyrie on the appointed day to speak to her daughter and her half-brother.

Her husband had no intention of spending a single night in the Eyrie, so he just acceded to his brother's suggestion and decided that the day before the agreed date they would travel to Harrenhal. She was not delighted with this idea, having heard many unflattering opinions about her father's brother.

Word had also reached her that a witch lived behind the walls of this grim fortress.

Still, she understood her husband's caution and anxiety, so she did not defy him, demanding something else in return.

"I will fly with you on Larax."

"No."

"If my mother sees that you did not allow me to fly on my own dragon she will not believe that anything that leaves my mouth was spoken of my own free will. She will see it as an excuse to believe that I still remain to you only a prisoner." She said impatiently; her husband turned his face towards the fire, sitting on one of the chairs at the table, licking his lower lip with his tongue in a nervous gesture, frustrated.

He did not reply.

She approached him slowly and knelt beside him on the cold stone floor, taking his hand in hers, placing a warm, tender kiss on it. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he had closed his eyelids, that he was losing the battle with himself.

"Please, husband. Give me this joy."

Though reluctant, her uncle finally gave her his wordless consent, but he remained silent throughout the evening and locked himself in his mind, tense.

It didn't help that she was still bleeding.

Not wishing to cause him any discomfort with an intimacy full of these disgusting fluids, she did not attempt to touch him, and he, apparently fearing that he might cause her pain in this state, also refrained from doing so.

The carriages filled with their belongings had long since left King's Landing when she and her uncle left the walls of the Red Keep.

She could see that he was pale, looking at her with his lips pressed together, unhappy and unsure whether he was making the right decision. He sighed heavily as she touched his cheek with her soft palm.

"I will join you in the sky soon, husband. I promise." She whispered and rose on her tiptoes, placing a moist, warm kiss on his cheek exactly as she had done that day, when he ran after her. Her husband hummed under his breath at her words and moved ahead, while she turned the other way, heading for the Dragon's Pit.

At the behest of her uncle, the servants who had been taking care of their dragons since their childhood led Larax into the main cave – her dragoness squealed loudly in despair at the sight of her, her sounds reminding her of the crying of a child.

She ran to her with tears in her eyes, feeling that the sight was breaking her heart.

She had been locked away for so long, terrified and imprisoned just as she was.

"Shijetra nyke, Larax. Shijetra nyke. Lykiri (Forgive me, Larax. Forgive me. Easy)." She mumbled, reaching out to her – her dragoness tilted her head and let her touch her, pushing against her chest, showing her how much she longed for her closeness.

As she climbed into her saddle again, as she again commanded her to move ahead, to take to the skies, and as the wind and speed blew her hair away, she felt a wonderful surge of adrenaline, freedom and happiness. She soared high into the sky, commanding her to fly in the right direction.

Larax let out a loud cry, terrified, wanting to escape, when suddenly Vhagar flew over her, her mighty wings causing a wave of air to hit them.

"Lykiri, Larax! Gaomagon sagon zūgagon daor! Sōvēs! (Calm down, Larax! Do not be afraid! Fly!)" She commanded, and after a moment she managed to regain control of her, heading after the great beast towards the fortress where her father had died.

Although she knew her husband was terrified at the prospect of letting her ride her own dragon, she noticed out of the corner of her eye his silhouette and his face staring back at her, from a distance she had the impression he was smiling.

She thought with a squeeze in her heart that he must have been dreaming of this moment since they were children.

Him and her, flying side by side on their dragons.

Exactly as it should be.

Thanks to the good weather, their several-hour journey turned out to be less tiresome than she thought it would be; she felt an immense ache in her muscles after a long break from flying as soon as they landed and she dismounted from her saddle anyway.

She had to wait for her husband, who had to land on Vhagar much further away so that no houses were destroyed, therefore she allowed herself to look around, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad.

"My Lady. What a joy." She heard the voice of Larys Strong as he strode towards her through the gates of his fortress, leaning on his staff, followed by several guards and a woman who immediately caught her attention.

Her long, straight black hair, her bare shoulders, her full breasts, her slender figure and her eyes surrounded by her dark lashes, her irises having the colour of fresh, juicy grass.

She lowered her gaze, never having seen such a beautiful and mysterious woman before in her life, finally glancing at Lord Strong, realising she should say something in reply.

She had never trusted him or had a good opinion of him.

She believed he was responsible for her father's death and she didn't want to speak to him.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She mumbled finally, forcing a warm smile, Larys Strong nodded. They all bowed as they spotted her husband approaching from the distance, his black leather coat and hair blown by the wind.

"My Prince."

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters." Her uncle commanded him, his voice as hoarse and shaky as hers from the emotion they had both apparently experienced while flying.

Her uncle and Larys Strong walked through the gate first and she moved to follow them, the woman who stood beside him, whoever she was, strolled a few paces behind her, her pleasant scent reaching her nostrils.

Lavender and cloves.

"We have prepared for you, my Prince, the most magnificent quarters in the entire fortress. I have no use for it anyway; I would get tired climbing all those steps every day. Nearby we have prepared rooms for your wife, I assure you −"

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." Her husband interrupted him, pulling his leather gloves from his hands, stepping inside the room, looking around with frustration and impatience.

Having been with him on a daily routine, accustomed to him conversing with her of his own accord, she had already forgotten how much he resented speaking to strangers for longer than necessary.

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you."

She and her uncle cast quick, concerned glances at each other; her husband hit the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, furious.

She knew the expression on his face, knew he was only dreaming of rest, but they were his guests and he was not in a position to simply refuse him.

Lord Strong looked at her expectantly and her uncle nodded at her, albeit reluctantly, to leave them alone. The woman standing beside her raised her hand and indicated with a gesture where they were to go, so she set off in that direction.

The chamber her father's brother had assigned her was smaller and more modest than that of her husband's, but it had a more pleasant view from the window, straight over the forest and the clearing where her dragoness slept.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath as she pressed her palm against the glass, seeing Larax, forgetting for a moment that she was not alone.

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, My Lady?" She heard a low, melodious, pleasant female voice behind her. She looked up at her and nodded.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked uncertainly. The woman smiled, looking at her calmly.

"Alys, my lady."

An awkward silence fell between them for a moment.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She said after a moment; the woman burst into a hearty, light laugh and shook her head.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She replied softly, her voice gentle and full of understanding, as if she were speaking to a small child. She blinked, shocked by her words, her question leaving her lips before she had time to think what she was saying.

"Did you know my father?"

The woman looked at her for a moment before she nodded.

"Yes, my Lady."

She felt her hand clench into a fist, her heart starting to beat like mad.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, the corner of the woman's mouth lifting in a grin.

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, my Lady."

She left her enigmatic response unanswered, both intrigued and terrified of her at the same time; it seemed to her that the gaze of her luscious green eyes pierced her to the core.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She spoke again with a hint of amusement from which she felt uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her words.

"What do you mean?" She muttered uneasily; the woman's gaze swept over her figure, as if assessing what she saw before her and combining it with her own conclusions in her head.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said in a light, low, slightly dreamy voice, looking somewhere to the side, intertwining her hands in front of her.

"Your husband follows you with his thoughts even when he is not looking at you. His head, even when he is not speaking to you, is directed towards you so that he can see you out of the corner of his eye. When he feels discomfort, he involuntarily seeks your face to experience understanding and comfort."

She stared at her in disbelief, wondering if she had been able to see such a thing being in their company for just a moment, unable to hide how pleased her words made her.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her heart pounding like mad.

Alys helped her change into one of the gowns that had arrived in Harrenhal in the chests before them, her long, graceful fingers entwining her dark, long hair into an intricate bun of many braids surrounding her head.

She had never had a similar hairstyle before and she liked it very much.

Alys escorted her to the chamber where her husband and Lord Strong had just eaten supper, then bowed and left, leaving them alone. Her husband looked at her intently as she sat beside him at the table with a smile, Larys Strong cast her a look full of curiosity.

"Beautiful hairstyle, my Lady." He said softly, but she felt a sense of discomfort instead of gratitude, which, however, she did not give vent to in any way. She looked at her uncle, for some reason emboldened by the woman's words.

"And you, my husband? What do you think?" She asked softly, her uncle throwing her a calm, impassive look.

"I prefer it when your hair is loose." He merely replied, reaching for his goblet full of wine, taking a loud sip from it, setting it down on the table with a loud clinking of steel.

She felt like a silly little girl and lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her throat as an awkward silence fell around them.

What had crossed her mind to ask such foolishness?

Did he think she asked it out of vanity?

It seemed to her that her uncle regretted the coldness in which he had expressed his opinion, for before she left to prepare for sleep he reminded her that immediately when she had finished she was to appear in his chamber.

She nodded her head at his words and pressed her lips together, only in the corridor letting a few regretful, embarrassed tears run down her face.

How could she take it so personally, expect empty compliments from him when she knew perfectly well that he loathed it?

As she stepped into her chamber she asked one of the servants to summon Alys, wanting her to help her take off her gown and to prepare her hot bath.

She had no intention of going to her husband after hours of travelling on a dragon all sticky from sweat and exertion.

Alys walked into her room with a smile and bowed, approaching her, seeing that she herself had already begun to untie her bodice.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, my Lady?" She asked softly, and she swallowed quietly and sighed, lowering her gaze.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said resignedly, as if she had failed in some way by not meeting his expectations.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, as if she were speaking of something completely obvious and natural. She blinked, feeling that somehow her words comforted her.

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She mumbled uncertainly, meeting her gaze in her reflection in the mirror, from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Yes, my Lady."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding hard at the thought.

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked at last; the woman involuntarily giggled under her breath, finally releasing her from her gown, which fell lightly to the stone floor, leaving her in her white night gown.

Thankfully, her bleeding had almost stopped.

"Yes." She said with amusement, taking her garment in her hands and placing it gently back in one of the chests, being careful not to crumple it as she meanwhile stepped into the bath and sat in it with a sigh of relief, sinking into the hot water.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled embarrassedly, trailing her fingers along the edge of the tub, not daring to look at her in fear that the woman would mock her.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied with amusement, and she raised her eyes at her, shocked.

Although her husband had sunk his face between her thighs on several occasions just as he had the first night after her return to King's Landing, he had never expected her to reciprocate.

Before she could suggest anything he thrusted his manhood deep between her moist folds anyway.

The truth, however, was that even if she wanted to do it, she didn't know how.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, looking at her uncertainly, a smile on her face that she might have considered warm.

"I see." She murmured, approaching her slowly, startling her completely as she knelt beside her tub, gently grasping her wrist in her hand. "I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, my Lady."

She swallowed hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and excitement, she licked her lower lip feeling it dry up with emotion.

"…How?"

Alys smiled, leaning towards her hand – she shuddered when her lips gently touched her finger, wondering with a fast beating heart what she was doing.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman showers them with gentle, tender caresses." She cooed as she closed her eyelids, running her full, moist lips up and down her pointing finger, leaving a wet trail of her saliva on it.

She looked at this sight as if enchanted, feeling an involuntary throbbing inside her imagining that she had knelt before her uncle and touched him like this.

She drew in air loudly, feeling a pleasant shiver run down her spine as the woman slipped the tip of her finger gently into her mouth, teasing it with her wet, fleshy tongue; she sighed helplessly feeling her nipples become hard, her walls clenching around nothing.

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She gasped softly between the brushes of her lips and suddenly slipped her whole finger into her mouth, starting to suck it unhurriedly with a quiet click of her saliva.

She didn't even notice when she began to breathe through her mouth, when her thighs clenched involuntarily under the water, seeking any kind of release of the tension that was building up inside her.

There was something so lewd and inappropriate about what she was seeing and feeling that she felt like a moan was about to come out of her throat.

She shuddered as Alys suddenly opened her eyes − a misty darkness in the green of her irises that she had often seen in her husband's gaze, her lips released her finger with a quiet click.

"− you pretty little thing − it's usually him taking care of you, isn't it? − he can't deny himself − I can't blame him −" She whispered, and she felt heat in her lower abdomen, her walls clenching greedily around nothing.

They both flinched as the door to her chamber suddenly opened, Alys stood up quickly and bowed, closing her eyes.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" She heard her husband's warning growl; she turned over her shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes, all red, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking shocked as the woman immediately left her quarters.

"− what is the meaning of this? − hm? −" He asked furiously standing over the tub as soon as the door closed behind her, fury in his eyes.

She couldn't find any meaningful answer in her head, her mind was completely blank.

Her uncle pressed his lips together in impatience, apparently trying not to explode.

"− can't I leave you alone even for a fucking moment? −" He hissed, and she shook her head, looking at him pleadingly.

"− I − I asked her for help −"

"− help with what, that she had to kneel beside you and hold your hand? − you are fucking bare −"

"− I − I can't tell you, it's embarrassing −"

"− gods, I swear I'm about to rip you to shreds −"

"− we were discussing embarrassing feminine matters − she showed me something…important − for you too −" She muttered, his jaw clenched in displeasure.

He didn't believe her.

"− I want to know what this brazen whore was doing to my wife −" He growled with an impatience so strong that she knew that if she didn't give him the answer he expected, her uncle was really about to explode and would surely knock her out along with her tub on the floor.

"− very well − I − I will try to show it to you − just − just don't get upset and sit on the bed −" She mumbled pleadingly, looking at him with her big eyes.

She saw that at her words his anger began to slowly fade, giving place to a slight intrigue in his gaze.

He hummed low and took a few steps back, as she requested, sitting down on her bed, looking at her watchfully.

She swallowed hard, rising from the tub with a loud splash of water, walking slowly out of the bath. He blinked, surprised when she sat on the floor in front of him, but with her back to him, reaching for the pins woven into her hair.

"− you have to help me, because I won't be able to do it myself until morning −" She muttered in displeasure, all heated up from the hot water her body had just been submerged in, her nightgown all soaked, clinging to her naked skin.

She heard her husband sigh heavily, leaning over her with a loud creak of the bed, sliding the pins out of her hairstyle, making the curls of her hair start to fall over her shoulders.

"− it was her idea too, wasn't it? −" He sneered disapprovingly and she let the air out of her lungs, tired.

"− I really liked the way I looked −" She burbled resentfully; she heard his heavy sigh again, however this time he answered nothing more.

When her hair was finally completely loose she turned to face him, already visibly calmer, his hand involuntarily went to her cheek, his thumb running over her soft skin.

His pupil narrowed as her fingers unfastened the buckles of his tunic and reached into the ties of his breeches, she felt his bulge beneath her palms throbbing hard.

"− what are you doing? −" He muttered uncertainly, coolly, as if terrified of what he had just imagined.

"− I want to kiss you there with my lips − are you repelled by the thought? −" She asked softly, releasing his swollen, half-hard erection, feeling him shudder as she grasped it gently in her hand, guiding it to her face.

"− what? – no − b-but − I − oh −" He gasped as she ran her lips over the pink head of his cock with a rapidly pounding heart; she felt satisfaction when his length twitched aggressively in her embrace.

She knew he wanted to say more as his mouth remained open, but he simply stared at her, breathing loudly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as she mimicked Alys's cues by running her lips from the root of his manhood to the very tip of it.

She heard him sigh in pleasure, closing his eyes for a moment, his hips involuntarily began to buck, pressing his already fully hard erection closer to her face, searching for any source of friction.

"− this − this is what she showed you? − hm? −" He gasped, as if he was simultaneously thrilled and enraged by this vision.

Not wanting him to think about it too much she used her tongue, running it up to the very top of the head of his cock, feeling the veins under his skin clearly, a low, hoarse groan stuck in his throat, his hand tightening in her hair.

"− fuck − g-gods −" He muttered in a trembling voice, his breathing increasingly shaky and accelerated – she knew he was aroused, and his sounds made her feel that unbearable, intense tickling and pulsing between her thighs again.

She was wet.

In some subconscious instinct, his hand tentatively guided the pink, swollen head of his cock against her lips, and she parted them, letting him slide between them with a loud sigh of pleasure.

"− squeeze − squeeze with your hand what doesn't fit inside − and suck − oh, yes, little one, just like that −" He exhaled delighted tilting his head back as she let him deep into her palate, his tip bumping again and again with the sure thrusts of his hips against the back wall of her throat causing her to gag, tears of exertion pooling in her eyes.

"− if this is too much − hit me twice on the thigh −" He gasped, looking down at her, and she merely nodded, clamping her hand over the base of his hard length, sucking it slowly with a loud click of her saliva.

She reminded herself about her tongue and what Alys was doing with it, so she made use of it, and every time her husband thrust his erection into her its tip teased and licked him; his two hands tightened in her hair with his low groan, quickening his pace.

"− oh − oh, fuck, little one − mghm − gods −" He panted, invading her throat with deep, fast pushes, making use of her mouth as he saw fit, a high-pitched moan erupted from her lungs as she felt him aggressively pulsing between her lips, breathing hard through her nose, trying not to suffocate.

"− I know − please, please, let me − oh, fuck, yes, swallow it, swallow, swallow, swallow −" He commanded in a shuddering gasp full of pleasure and relief. She squirmed as his hot, sticky seed spilled down her palate straight into her throat; she swallowed some of it with difficulty and coughed, trying not to choke, a pearly trickle of his spend ran off the corner of her mouth down her chin.

Good gods.

They were both panting loudly and quivering, his face pressed against her hair, on which he still clamped his fingers, not letting her escape.

"− just a moment more − please, just a moment more − so warm −" He mumbled, and she swallowed hard, breathing loudly through her nose with his half soft length deep in her throat. It seemed to her for a moment that he might have fallen asleep in that position, but eventually he took pity on her and slid out of her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.

She involuntarily put her arms around his knee, exhausted, hugging her face to his thigh, breathing hard, not believing she had really done it.

Her womanhood pulsed all over, her thighs were all sticky from her moisture.

She sighed in relief when she felt his large hand begin to stroke her hair with a tender, calm gesture, his breathing still erratic and accelerated.

"− come − come here − your husband need to take care of you −"

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keeksandgigz · 3 months

Text

the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content.

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room.

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you.

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic.

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know.

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself.

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone.

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice.

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core.

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa.

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims.

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly.

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go.

“The mirror” you mumble.

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered.

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it.

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words.

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time.

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth.

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?”

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face.

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head.

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it.

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose.

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news.

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe.

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs.

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest.

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-”

“Your coven? There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod.

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him.

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place.

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks.

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset.

And now he’s upset because of you.

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back.

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him.

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back.

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room.

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s.

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break.

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace.

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable.

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes.

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional.

The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep.

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me.

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit.

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace.

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town.

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal.

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you?

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes.

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not.

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind.

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air.

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie.

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless.

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time.

If you don’t die first.

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left.

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic.

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile.

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed.

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook.

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door.

So he knocks. Again. And Again.

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it.

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you.

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house”

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever.

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand.

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest.

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists.

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet.

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this?

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays. I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him.

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered.

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left.

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch.

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived.

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it.

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again.

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face.

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

“So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?”

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again.

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jessikahathaway · 8 months

Text

Tainted Love - JJK (M)

Hello hello everybody!

Here is Demon!Jk as promised~

Thank you to everyone who expressed excitement from the teaser! And a special thank you to my bb Ella (@oddinary4bts) for betaing this fic for me and listening to me scream about Demon Jk on discord for the past month. Love you babes!

Alright, fasten your seatbelts, I went a lil AWOL with this but I hope you all enjoy regardless! Please let me know what you think~

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Genre: Fantasy!AU, Demon!Jk, Witch!Reader, unrequited love, romance, smut, angst, lil fluffy bits in there too.

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, main character death (not permenant), Demon!Jk can be toxic, reader is in love and knows she shouldn't be, darker themes - Jungkook is an old demon and isn't a very happy one, they use each other a bit but they work that out. SMUT WARNINGS: Multiple smut scenes (you heard me), unprotected sex (don't be silly), oral (f and m receiving), creampies, rough sex, emotional sex, standing/wall fucking, Jungkook is pussy whipped confirmed, dirty talk (jungkook and reader freak nasty), switch!Jk and switch!reader, hair pulling, vaginal sex.

Words: 16.4k

Summary: Jungkook sometimes forgets the time. Except the time he's spent with you, he's certain those times he'll remember until the day he turns to dust. As a demon with a time limit on his life, will he let you in? The witch who has shown him tenderness instead of a blade at his throat. Does he trust you with his life? Or will you be too late?

Jungkook sometimes forgets the time.

And not in the sense of he can’t remember the time of day, or the day of the week itself. No, it’s gotten much worse over his millenia of life. He legitimately doesn’t remember if it’s the 1700s or 2020s some days. Time is a much more relative construct than most people believe. Life isn’t always linear. Things can happen backwards, things can happen too fast or not at all when someone has believed it to be otherwise.

Jungkook had forgotten the time again today. The smoke of his cigarette rose up above his head and swirled and flowed along with the fan spinning slowly above his head.

He laid on his bed in this dingy apartment that he pays for with money he conjures. Being a demon has its perks. But, to remain under the guise of a regular human, he works at a local mechanics shop.

He lives life as a typical low level human being. He has a backstory and everything. His parents passed away when he was little and his great aunt cared for him until he was old enough to move out on his own. While away she passed and he’s been alone ever since. This small village had accepted him, unfortunately for them.

Now, Jungkook was a demon, but that didn’t mean he was wasteful. Nor was he ruthless and bloodthirsty. No, he was nothing of the sort. He was far too old for childish nonsense like that. His temper had almost fizzled out with the will to change his fate for the better. At this point? He’d rather disappear and be done with it all. Constantly looking for new souls to take, it had been exhausting in the beginning, and now? Now he didn’t care really one way or the other.

He had one year before it all went away.

One year before he dies.

The reason? Jungkook had betrayed his brethren. His fellow demons sentenced him to a life on Earth until he could fulfill a quota of ten thousand souls. Specifically, ten thousand souls of those who are the victims of the painful fate of unrequited love. As that was his crime.

He loved a human woman, and so? He was forced to kill the poor saps that had fallen into his own trap.

A painful irony, but Jungkook had quit feeling pain a long while ago. Five thousand years to complete his task, to take ten thousand souls that were suffering the same pain as himself all those years ago. And finally, after far too many years, his task would be ending. And him along with it all.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care much about himself. He was far too tired.

There was, however, one Earthly pleasure that he’d found himself enjoying.

You.

A witch in your own right, a member of the coven in the area. You’d moved in a few years back and noticed Jungkook immediately. He was handsome, he was dark and mysterious. How were you supposed to resist?

Jungkook initially hadn’t taken that much of a liking to you. But you were persistent and perhaps even a little desperate for a friend that knew at least some of your true identity. Jungkook had finally relented on his reluctance and had let you in. Not much, there were things you were certain he would never tell you. Perhaps some things you wouldn’t want to know in the first place. But, it didn’t take long for you two to start fucking after that.

He was weak for very few things. However, cheap spicy ramen from the convenience store down the street, cigarettes and sex had proven to be nicely distracting.

You were pretty and nice enough, although Jungkook didn’t particularly care for you at first, once you two fucked a few times he could see himself forgiving your little nuisances. They didn’t really matter on the large scale anyways.

Nothing did, actually.

A knock at the door brought him from his stupor. He didn’t have to work today, he’d be pissed if Hoseok came to ask him to cover again. He’d already done it five times in the past month. He put out his cigarette and moved towards the entrance. With a scowl on his face he answered the door to see your frame standing in the doorway.

Jungkook raised a brow at you before looking down to see you dressed in your work uniform. You also had a regular job, but you worked as a bartender at the local joint in town. You took notice of his scowl and gave him a playful pout.

“Aw baby, you look so much cuter when you smile,” you said with a pat to his cheek. Jungkook rolled his eyes but let you in as he saw you carrying his favorite booze in your hand. You set the bottle on the table and went to take your shoes off when Jungkook saw a flash of your panties up your skirt.

It was Saturday. You and Jungkook usually fucked during the week as it worked best with both of your schedules. It was rare to see you on the weekends, as this was when the most tips came from the bar's patrons.

“It’s Saturday,” he said, eyes trailing back to your face.

You’d noticed his staring, but you didn’t care-this is usually what happened when he hadn’t seen you in a while.

“Does that mean we can’t fuck on a Saturday?” you asked, head tilting to the side.

Jungkook lit another cigarette. “Why aren’t you working?” he asked, taking a deep drag off the tobacco stick. You smiled at him and Jungkook sighed deeply.

You only smiled like that when you were up to no good.

“I’m trying to set Sana and Alex up,” you said with that same damned smile.

“Why the fuck do you want to do that?” he asked, tapping some of the ash off his vice into a glass.

“Because they love each other, they just need a push to figure it out for themselves. So I asked to take an earlier shift today because we had a date,” you said, walking closer. Jungkook watched the sway in your hips and felt the stirring in his lower stomach. He wouldn’t mind fucking you tonight. It was better than forgetting what time it was. Again. “Plus a few of my sisters from the coven are coming over tonight.”

Jungkook sighed, decidedly ignoring the mention of your coven. “A date, huh?”

You pouted and he smirked at your disappointment. “What? Can’t I say that’s what it is? Got something against dating me?”

He inhaled deeply. “Not particularly, but demons and witches don’t mesh well.”

A sharp jab to your heart, but Jungkook was great at those. Without realizing it, he broke your heart day after day. It was ridiculous honestly, you shouldn’t have fallen for him in the first place. Really, you shouldn’t have. You knew it was wrong. Jungkook wasn’t incorrect when he said witches and demons don’t get along well. Some witches had a strong moral code and demons could go against all of them without even a second glance.

Jungkook technically could get you kicked out of your coven.

But he was too enthralled with the fact you put out on the regular and you were too enthralled with him in general.

Overall, it wasn’t the best situation, but Jungkook had done you some favors in the past. Acquiring materials for your coven’s spells, summoning a few extra hundred dollars when you’re short on rent, and giving you an equally satisfying sex life.

Hopefully, tonight was going to prove no different.

“You seem to mesh just fine with me,” you said, voice teasing and obviously hinting.

His eyes flashed a deep crimson at the thought of being able to fuck you. He’d been wound up and needing something besides cigarettes recently. Your body would be a welcomed distraction.

“I do, don’t I?” he said, voice turning smoother.

Jungkook was an attentive lover, always making sure you came multiple times. As a demon he had good refraction period and was able to fuck you after cumming-sometimes multiple times a day. Especially if you hadn’t been able to come over often enough.

You hadn’t seen him in probably two weeks, you had to travel for a coven meeting. But it seems those two weeks left him needing you.

He crowded your space, hands winding around your body and squeezing your ass. He rested his head against your collarbone, hiding his face in your neck. Jungkook did this sometimes, almost as if he could shrink his world and thoughts down to just this moment. This space. This breath happening between the two of you.

You were about to ask if he was alright when he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You responded, letting him back you up towards the wall. Your thighs clenched at the attention. Jungkook had to be the best sexual partner you’d ever had in your almost one hundred years of life. Being a witch had its perks as well.

He was desperate against your mouth, panting and eagerly licking in between your lips, parting them so he could tangle his tongue with yours. His hands wound up your lower back.

“Jungkook, baby,” you whined softly, as he swallowed your lips once more. “I gotta be quick today,” you frowned.

“That’s fine, I won’t last long anyways,” he said, already painfully hard in his jeans.

He turned you around, having your palms flat against the wall. “Think you can stand while I fuck you?” He asked, licking his lips at the sight of your ass presented nicely to him in your short skirt.

“Yes-I can,” you bit your lip, mind reeling with the fact you were about to have him again. You and Jungkook fucked fairly often, probably three times a month, sometimes more if he could swing it. And this had been your arrangement for almost a year now.

People at work knew Jungkook, he was a regular at the bar and people often referred to him as your boyfriend. In their minds you two were just young adults figuring out life and it would all work in the end. You two cared for each other-right?

“Hey,” Jungkook said, voice softer. “You there?”

Ah, you slipped into your thoughts again.

“I’m here, it’s fine-please,” you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, the burning in between your thighs causing you pain. Jungkook nodded before flipping your skirt up and tugging your panties down your legs. You were soaked, wetness pulling away with your panties that had Jungkook hissing between his teeth.

“Fuck, do I have time to eat you out? Just a bit? Fuck please,” he begged, kneeling behind you and kissing your ass hungrily. “Let me, I need it baby, please?”

You really did have to be quick, members of your coven were coming over tonight and you’d have to scrub yourself stupid in the shower to not smell like demon. But fuck-when he begged like that?

“Whatever you want,” you said, voice breathless at his eagerness.

He was so good at getting what he wanted. It always worked with you, and it always would unfortunately.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, placing his mouth on you in needy kisses. Jungkook’s tongue threaded between your lips and found your clit almost immediately. You cried out and gripped the wall as he ate your pussy like a starved man.

He liked it.

He liked eating your pussy so much. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the flavor, the amount of slick you produced for him, the way you rutted your hips back against him whenever he did it. You made the sweetest noises when he had his mouth on your cunt and now was proving no different. Jungkook almost felt high at the feeling of your wetness collecting on his face.

Maybe it was that part he was addicted to. Or maybe it was worse than that. In times like this, he really could forget. He could forget he was a demon, not many people willingly share this much of themselves with a demon and know the consequences. But as a witch, you knew what would happen if your coven found out. You knew and yet? You still let him in. You let him touch you and fuck you. All of it.

“Kook~” you cried out, head pressing against the wall. “Please, gonna cum,” you whimpered out.

Damn, he was hoping to get a little more than that. The next time you came over he was going to want to eat your pussy for hours.

“Then cum for me, baby, get yourself nice and wet for my cock,” he said.

You didn’t need much today, you were just as needy as he was. Probably more so. A few more heady sucks of his lips and you were cumming.

“Jungkook-fuck,” you gasped. He smirked and stood up, licking his lips as he undid his jeans. You panted harshly against the wall, mind whirling in pleasure.

“That’s it, pretty thing,” he cooed, approaching with his now crimson eyes. You knew he must be needing this if he’s so worked up already.

“Please baby, give me your cock?” you asked, reaching behind you to grab the front of his undone jeans. Jungkook followed easily when you tugged, your hand dipping underneath the fabric to grasp his cock. He sighed in pleasure, pushing his pants down further and head tilting back just a touch. He pushed his boxers down as well, freeing his cock entirely before you smiled back at him and taking him in your hand once more.

“Fuck, yes,” he said, voice turning raspy and dark.

You winked and pumped him a few times before lining him up with your dripping core. He hadn’t stretched you but you wanted the burn today. “Fuck me then,” you said, inviting him inside you once more.

Jungkook held your hip as he started to lead his cock between your lips. “You wet enough?” he asked, raising a brow at you.

Such a smug bastard. But his cock was big enough he needed to ask-because he didn’t want to hurt you. His demonic nature was there, but honestly hurting someone that had continuously done him favors didn’t seem that important.

“Y-Yeah,” you whimpered, rubbing against him. “Please put it in, want your thick cock in me so bad Jungkook!”

He nodded, finally pushing in just a touch. You whined, head falling back as you felt the full sensation begin. Jungkook growled out at your tightness gripping his cock just right, giving him the rush of tingles down his spine. He gave gentle thrusts into your heat to ease you open, although you were really squeezing him today and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of your sweet cunt letting him in inch by inch.

“Fuck I love your pussy,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours fully.

“Love your cock,” you cried, walls clenching down on him harshly. Jungkook couldn’t stop his reaction of bucking into you roughly. You let out a sharp cry at his cock hitting deeper than usual.

“Sorry baby, m’sorry,” he murmured against your skin, kissing your neck and shoulder. Moments like that were the ones you remembered with pain in your chest. The way he easily apologized for the slightest harm to you. All except the harm to your heart.

You shook your head. “It’s okay, don’t worry-just, oh! G-give me more!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, holding your hips he started thrusting inside of you with firm pushes. He huffed in his own pleasure, watching your puffy pussy swallowing his cock with each rut forward. “Look so good like this, take my cock so well,” he sighed, the sweet sensations of your warm, wet walls sucking him in had shivers rocketing down his spine and pooling heat in his stomach.

“Cock so good, made to take it baby, love having you inside me like this,” you mewled. Jungkook smirked at your pleasure cries reaching his ears.

“Made to take me huh?” he asked, giving harsher thrusts inside of you and watching as your face morphed into shocked pleasure.

“J-Jungkook!” you sobbed out.

He was panting against your skin, thrusting inside you with eager pushes of his hips against your ass. The sound of skin slapping echoed through his apartment.

Jungkook could barely think at this point in sex. He was driven by your high pitched cries and the boiling need in his stomach. “Cum baby, cum all over my cock. Gonna let me cum inside today baby?” He teased, huffing sex driven laughter across your throat while he bit down.

“Mmm~ah! Y-Yeah, it’s fine, I have the potion for it,” you cried, grabbing his hand that was gripping one of your hips. He wound the other around your front to start playing with your clit to get you there faster.

“Then I’m gonna fill you up baby, feel it dripping inside of you huh? Wanna cum baby, fuck I really want it, say I can have it,” he groaned.

He loved hearing you beg for his cum. It did something to him, made his high that much sweeter because you pleaded for it. You wanted him that badly. There was something hot about having your watery eyes beg with his to finally let you cum.

“You can, you always can baby,” you promised, holding his wrist while he pounded inside you brutally.

Jungkook smiled against your skin before husking permission to cum against your jaw. With a deep gasp you came, Jungkook following not too shortly after. Your pussy milking him with each pulse of your afterglow.

“Thank you-fuck, oh baby,” you shivered against him, leaning into the kisses he trailed along your shoulder.

“Fuck give me a second, I came so hard,” he said, slumping against you while he pressed you against the wall with him still inside of you. But soon enough you felt him soften and with a deep sigh he pulled from you.

You shivered as his cum trickled down your thigh.

“Ah shit, sorry baby,” he said, running to grab a few tissues. You panted softly against the wall, keeping yourself steady so as not to make a mess. He came back and helped you clean up a bit and offered you his shower.

“Can’t, got sisters coming over tonight, if I shower here they’ll smell demon on me from a mile away,” you stated. “But thanks,” you said with a smile.

He nodded, sitting at his tiny coffee table smoking a cigarette.

Jokingly, you teased him. “Those’ll kill you one day,” you said, pulling on your shoes.

Jungkook’s face didn’t smile like you were hoping. Although it rarely did, you felt the difference. He was… upset?

“No, I’ll be dead by next year regardless,” he whispered.

The room went eerily quiet. Your heart was hammering in your chest. What did he mean he would be dead by next year?

“What the fuck does that mean?” You said, walking towards him in concern. “The fuck do you mean you’ll be dead by next year?”

Jungkook wasn’t phased by your anger. You hardly knew his story and he preferred to keep it that way. Because he knew this would be your reaction. And he hated fighting with you. It never made any difference.

“Didn’t you find a demon, on its own-no contracts or groups or general mayhem happening-a little odd?” He asked, putting out his cigarette.

You swallowed thickly. It was odd. But you weren’t going to argue with a good thing and, perhaps you’d hoped that there was maybe just a happy coincidence, for once.

Of course you were wrong.

Naïveté hadn’t served you well in the past and it seemed to stomp your heart once again in this long life of yours…

“I never found you odd, Jungkook,” you said.

“You should’ve.”

Your heart was racing making your next words slightly frantic. “What’s wrong with you, huh? What’s going on? Are you finally gonna tell me?”

He sighed deeply. He hated the sound of your voice right now. You sounded like you were going to cry, and he didn’t want to make you upset. Watching you cry was painful.

“I have a quota of souls to collect. If I don’t collect all of them by the time set-I disappear,” he said. “The souls of those who know unrequited love.”

Your throat felt dry at his statement. What could you say to that? Was there anything to be said? It’s not like you two were dating, it’s also not like you ever could with you being in the coven.

“How many souls do you have left?” You asked, voice sad.

“Ten,” he breathed.

Ten. Ten souls before next year didn’t seem crazily difficult. But the specificity did complicate things.

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll help you,” you said.

Jungkook’s head snapped to you, and he stood quickly. “Don’t fucking say that,” he said, voice shaking with anger.

“But why not? Why can’t I help you? I have the ability to find souls like that, we can travel and you can collect.” You explained.

“We?” He asked, raising a brow. “You really think I trust you enough to let you do that? How do I know you wouldn’t take me right to that coven of yours?”

You felt your heart break. “Is that what you think I would do?” You said, voice sad and in disbelief. Jungkook knew it was a low blow, but he had to get you to leave if this is where this conversation was going.

He didn’t like hurting you, or your feelings. It usually wasn’t necessary but sometimes you dug too deep, and he had to back you off somehow.

“The fuck is your problem you asshole,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes. “All I did was ask to help you, is it so wrong that I actually want you around? That I actually like hanging out with your crabby ass… call me when you’re not being a massive dickhead” you said, grabbing your bag but intentionally leaving the booze. All it would do was make you think of him anyway. Jungkook was about to call out your name but you slammed the door right in the middle of his sentence.

“Fuck…”

He knew that wasn’t fair, he knew that he shouldn’t have snapped at you like that but… sometimes you did get too close. Jungkook knew what his end would be, and there wasn’t anything you or he could do about it.

At least, nothing he wanted to do about it…

—

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in a week or two now. He hadn’t reached out and you weren’t particularly interested in fighting with him again, not right now. He really did hurt your feelings… He could trust you, you wondered briefly what it would take for him to listen. To hear that you wanted him to collect those souls.

You were just as damned as he was, you knew that. Even more so if your coven discovered what you were up to in your bedroom. And heart…

Just as you were about to suck it up and call him, your phone rang. It was a number you didn’t immediately recognize, but the area code was local.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey, Y/N?” Hoseok’s voice echoed through the phone. Hoseok was a fellow mechanic at the shop Jungkook worked at.

But what would he be calling for?

“Yeah? What’s up Hoseok?” You asked.

“Um… Jungkook, he collapsed at work, he might need to go to the doctor but we’re slammed. You’re his emergency contact so I’m calling you to let you know what’s going on?” His voice sounded worried and confused. Jungkook never got sick, he was a demon, but they didn’t know that. They just knew he was a healthy young guy.

But this was odd.

“I’ll be right there,” you said, hanging up and grabbing your keys.

The drive through town was relatively quiet, but when you got to the shop you could see that there were several people waiting for their usual tune ups and repair work.

You walked in and Ashley, the receptionist, smiled at you. “Hey Y/N, thanks for coming. Jungkook’s in the office with Namjoon,” she said softly.

With a nod you headed back towards the office. You heard Namjoon speaking to Jungkook, but it seemed like he was either not responsive or just choosing to ignore him. The latter seemed more probable. Namjoon was the head mechanic at the shop and ran it for his friend Chen who owned a couple different car places throughout the area.

You opened the door and Jungkook’s head turned towards you. “Baby,” he called. You tried to keep the smirk off your face but you crossed your arms and leaned back against the door.

“Oh, so now I’m your baby?” You said, running your tongue along your teeth with an unimpressed look on your face. Jungkook sighed heavily, knowing that you were going to be pissed with him, he was lucky you came at all. Especially after how he treated you the last time you two saw each other.

Namjoon sighed, used to the bickering and sour looks shared between the two of you here and there. “I don’t know what caused it Y/N, but he seems pretty sick. He might need to go to the doctor.”

Jungkook was about to protest when you nodded. “I’ll take him,” you said. His eyes flashed red in annoyance but it was brief.

“Chen’s already given him the rest of today and tomorrow off,” Namjoon said. “So hopefully that’ll give him some time to recoup, but if he needs more just have him give us a call.”

You nodded, reaching for Jungkook’s hand. He took it, sitting up slowly. You read his energy and found yourself immediately concerned. He seemed to notice your worry and sighed deeply before standing and leaning against you. Without much more ceremony you ledhim to your car.

Neither of you said much as you got him in and started off towards his place. You would have to do an energy transfer for him tonight, luckily it would just take a few potions or a spell to replenish his energy, sex worked as well but ultimately the cause had you concerned.

His human body was starting to deteriorate.

When you arrived you grabbed him and helped get him inside his house.

He was panting softly and laid back on his bed in a huff.

“You need energy,” you whispered, leaning forward to give him some of yours to ease some of his pain. Jungkook turned his head to keep your lips from connecting in the way he needed. “You’re being a shit, either let me help you or delete my number.”

Jungkook frowned, swallowing hard before turning his head so your lips could connect. He breathed deeply in relief as your energy flowed through him softly. Your energy had always been soothing to him, but right now it seemed to help immensely.

He’d missed you.

When you moved to pull away he grabbed you by the back of your neck and connected your lips again. You kissed him with a gentleness that he wasn’t used to, your lips gliding over his softly and with a warmth that was addictive.

He loved your bites and eager kisses but this… This had things stirring in his stomach that frightened him.

Jungkook was afraid of very few things. But your genuine care for him scared him most of all. Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Jungkook wasold and angry and yet, more exhausted than anything.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled in his lap. Kissing him a bit more to relax him. The energy would settle soon enough and he would at least be able to tell you what happened.

“Baby,” he called, voice raspy and tired.

“Yes, Kook, what’s wrong?” You cooed, running your hands through his hair to ease him into accepting your energy. The more he fought it the less it would work. “Relax baby, I can’t help if you don’t let me.”

He nodded, head dropping into your neck as he simply tried to feel you. It had been a long time since he’d needed a transfer from you but each time he always forgot how easy you made it.

“Good job, sweet boy,” you praised, kissing his cheek and temple.

Jungkook sighed heavily against your skin, placing tender kisses there as well. “Can I have more energy baby… please?”

You smirked. “Do you want the potions? I know they taste bad but they work, or we can do a direct transfer through sex-”

“Yes,” he said quickly.

You chuckled softly before nodding. “That’s fine then, lay back baby,” you said, undoing his belt and getting his pants unbuttoned.

“Fuck,” he sighed, head tipping back in bliss as you touched him. He felt encompassed by you and your soothing energy.

Your hand slipped in his pants and squeezed his cock gently to encourage him to harden. Your kisses on his jaw and neck stayed sweet but they were firmer, something told you he needed to be babied today. And even though it was rare, you adored it every time. You pushed his pants down further so they wouldn’t be in your way, sending him a look as you spat on his cock. You wrapped your hand around the shaft and pumped slowly, watching the pleasure write across his features.

“F-Fuck, yeah-ah,” he whimpered, eyes shut and brow furrowed in ecstasy.

“Getting so hard so fast, gonna feel so good in my pussy baby,” you cooed, taking his hand and leading it under your skirt.

Jungkook’s eyes practically sparkled at the fact you were so wet. “Soaked-you’re soaked angel,” he moaned, touching your core carefully.

You hiccuped a soft sigh of pleasure before leaning down and taking his cock in your mouth. Jungkook’s breathing stammered at your hot and wet throat swallowing his cock.

You’d always done it so well, and Jungkook could say he would die happily if you were sucking his dick. “F-Fuck, angel, please-mmm,” he groaned, his other hand gently caressing the back of your head. “Sweet tongue, feels so fucking good.

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock before eagerly swallowing it again. Jungkook’s submissive whines had you clenching your thighs together as his fingers snuck inside your panties.

“O-Open your legs-please, wanna touch your pussy, need to feel you,” he whimpered.

Without much ceremony you did as he asked, opening your legs to let him touch you. Jungkook moaned at the feeling of your slick heat against his fingers, he plunged two inside of you causing your throat to tighten around his cock, giving him a rush of heady pleasure down his spine. He could feel you everywhere. Your energy coursing through him, your hot mouth on his dick and your juicy pussy dripping down his fingers. He was quickly getting overwhelmed in the best way. He wanted more of you, more and more until there was nothing left to give. He wanted to give you more too.

He desperately wished he could sometimes.

“Koo~” you moaned on his cock, rutting your hips gently to remind him you were currently soaking his hand and needed some stimulation or you were going to lose your mind.

“Yeah angel baby, soaking pussy feels so good...”

You whimpered on his cock, using the vibrations to pleasure him that much more. But his fingers were working so much slick from your core you knew you needed to have him inside or you were going to go insane. He cried out when you pulled away, eyes wide with need. You kissed him then, giving him a touch more energy to help ease his frantic breathing. He shivered when you climbed on top of him, your warmth and wetness seemingly everywhere.

“Ready baby? Want me to put you in?” you asked, tugging your panties off and slipping your skirt down and off of your legs.

Jungkook nodded quickly. “Please, please baby let me feel you,” he said, reaching for you as you crawled back into his bed. You smiled and rubbed yourself against his cock teasingly for a moment before Jungkook looked about ready to cry.

“Alright sweetie, I’ll stop teasing now, take what you need,” you said, easing yourself down on him. Jungkook’s hands settled at your hips, huffing out desperate breaths of pleasure as your tight heat swallowed his sensitive cock.

“Yes! Yes fuck, feels so fucking good angel, oh baby,” he cried, sounding wrecked already.

You had a feeling you would be doing most of the work today, so you started gingerly bouncing on his cock. Jungkook’s eyes were sparkling, turning a soft purple color as your magic intertwined with him. You had been training for years to have this level of mana and Jungkook knew he’d only scratched the surface of your abilities on days like this.

Sometimes he wondered how strong you really were. You handled him like you weren’t afraid of him or his powers. Albeit his strength was significantly less than it was back in hell.

Even then though, he was curious.

“Fuck~ Jungkook!” you whined, grinding your clit on his lower stomach. “Please, please baby, wanna make you cum,” you pleaded. “Cum inside me baby, please? Give me your cum and I’ll take it like such a good girl. Your good girl Kook,” you said, reaching down to play with yourself.

Jungkook groaned in pleasure. “So close baby, so close-ah fuck!” he gritted out through his teeth.

“Gonna fill me up? Please give it to me, Jungkook. Wanna have your cum so deep inside.”

He couldn’t hold it back anymore, Jungkook sat up and pulled you close as he rutted deeply in your pussy for a few quick thrusts before he shivered in release. You felt your core pulsing at his whimpers and whines from the pleasure your body gave him. His head was flush against your chest as he panted.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair to soothe him. Your energy was mellowing nicely with his giving him more color in his face that eased your own heart. “Kook,” you said softly. “D’you feel okay?” you asked, hips and thighs burning from the effort to fuck him, but the pleased look on his face made everything worth it in your mind.

“You didn’t cum,” he said, reaching down to touch your sensitive clit. He was still decently hard inside of you, but you knew he didn’t have long. “Wanna make you cum angel,” he said, rolling his hips up into your gingerly.

“Mmm, baby,” you called in a pitched tone. “Won’t take much, I’m so close,” you hiccuped, resting your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook grunted, his cock was sensitive but your sweet moans kept him up long enough to feel that tight squeeze from your pussy and the rush of slick that soaked his cock in response. “Fuck, yes, yes give it to me,” he begged.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. You scanned his energy quickly and felt relieved to know it was almost back to normal. “Thank you baby,” you said, patting his cheek with a dizzying smile.

“It’s not as good if you don’t cum, love feeling you squeeze me,” he sighed in bliss, your warmth still holding his cock nicely.

Sometimes he liked this. He liked just feeling your body against his, his cock inside you for a few moments after you both came. You got wetter and slicker and your walls felt so nice on his cock he thought it would make him cum again some days.

You smoothed your hands down his back, holding him close as your energy finally settled and his eyes changed back to their regular brown color.

With wobbly knees you got up and headed towards his bathroom.

Jungkook laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. He wanted a cigarette but he’d run out the night before.

You came back and stood before him. Jungkook could see up your skirt and he was trying not to focus on that as you stood there with a waiting expression.

He inhaled deeply. “I know you read my energy. You know what’s happening to me,” he said.

“I want to hear you say it to me,” you stated.

Jungkook nodded, agreeing with your demands of honesty. Finally.

“Not all demons are without humanity. Some have more than others, yet I always seemed to stray towards more rather than less… there was a woman, I slowly found things I liked about her. Then things I enjoyed… then things I found myself smiling about on my own. I was endeared to this woman… I loved her in a sense,” he said, staring at the ceiling.

“And yet, it wasn’t enough,” he breathed. “My fellow knights laughed at me, then berated me for genuinely showing care towards a human. As one of the high knights of hell I was expected to have higher standards than disgusting humans. So they bound me in a human body, locking most of my powers away, so I would no longer be able to communicate with the human I once cared for. And then I was given the quota I told you about… and five thousand years to make it happen. If I didn’t collect a thousand souls then I cease to exist, it’s starting. My timer is running out.”

You swallowed thickly. “How do I help you stop it? How do I help you?”

Jungkook gave you a tired smile. “Baby, I don’t want to ask that of you. I’m so old now, this life doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

You felt a few tears well up in your eyes despite yourself. “It fucking matters to me…” you whimpered. “You matter to me.”

Jungkook was stunned. “Y/N,” he said, reaching for you.

You sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t want you to disappear. What will happen if you collect all one thousand souls?”

“I will be reinstated in Hell,” he murmured. “I won’t disappear and I will be back to full strength once more.”

You swallowed hard, nodding your head. Either way you’d lose him, but at least one way he’d still be alive… “Then let me help you, I don’t want to see you die like this.”

Jungkook sighed deeply. He’d never had many friends. He had people he kept around for convenience, but overall he’d kept to himself throughout the years. You were the only one in recent history that he’d told anything to. Perhaps he could truly do this. He could be reborn in hell once more.

And when he got back to hell… he could rip those knights apart for what they put him through…

He nodded. “I’ll need your help,” he said.

“You have it,” the words fell easily from your lips. “I won’t let you die like this.”

“Then I won’t.”

—

Jungkook hadn’t expected you to take this so seriously. And yet, here you were in his apartment. You had your glasses on and were gazing at your spellbook as a potion boiled on the stove. Jungkook alway thought you used a cauldron.

‘You think my tiny ass apartment could fit a cauldron?!’ You’d cried in annoyance at his teasing.

So here it bubbled and boiled and no doubt would cause trouble for Jungkook when he would ultimately have to clean it later.

“Baby,” he called, moving closer to you with your cup of coffee.

You’d stayed the night last night-Jungkook may have fucked you stupid enough he was worried about you driving. There weren’t any sisters of the coven stopping by soon so you could spend the night wrapped in his sheets. And you did exactly that.

You had ten months and twelve days to complete the task Jungkook had been given.

Ten more souls in ten months.

You’d already gotten a list together of possible cities you could look into. Once you had your potion perfected, Jungkook could go out and find his prey with minimal difficulty.

You took the cup from him, setting your spellbook aside as he sat across from you on the couch. You sighed and removed your glasses, rubbing your sleepy features before taking a sip of the hot coffee.

Jungkook watched you and gave your knee a squeeze. “Don’t use up too much energy baby. I’ve got ten months,” he said.

“Ten months isn’t a long time for a witch, nor is it for a demon, we need to work quickly before your condition progresses,” you said, drinking more of your coffee.

Jungkook crawled forward, taking your coffee from you which caused a pout to befall your features. He set your coffee down and crawled on top of you, laying his head right under your chest. He’d crawled between your thighs and was lying entirely over you.

“Need more energy?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, resting against you.

You chuckled before resting back, hand still playing with the hair on his head. Recently, Jungkook had been craving these more than his cigarettes. Simple touches, soft kisses and conversations. Jungkook had never felt so at ease before. Even in his life as a knight of hell.

Jungkook rested heavily against your stomach, laying in between your legs. You knew this could be a side effect of your energy transfer-but it had been a while since he’d needed one. Usually the clinging from your energy would dissipate in a day or two.

It had been at least a week at this point. So what made Jungkook so snuggly? You didn’t want to complain about a sweet thing however.

Jungkook leaned into you more, curling around you as you kept rubbing his scalp. He seemed happy to just stay like this for a while. And you wondered what was causing such a change in him. Was this what he was like with those he trusted?

Sweet and softer?

Or was this purely for you-

No.

You couldn’t think that way, not about Jungkook. Either way this ended with him leaving you… you had to keep focused, you were doing this for your friend.

Your truest friend.

Jungkook snoozed on your belly, content to laze about while you did the hard work. But your heart broke a little more that day.

As you slowly started to fall for a man without a soul.

You’d been stressed today.

Jungkook could tell that you were just by the cute frown on your face, it seemed to have a permanent place on your pretty features today. It always appeared when you were frustrated or angry. He’d seen it directed at him several times, but right now it was at the potion you were working on.

There was a new ingredient you were sampling in it or something to that effect, Jungkook didn’t really understand much of what you were doing to be honest. But it was clear you were stumped for now. It was almost two o’clock in the morning.

“Y/N...” he trailed off, approaching as you sighed deeply.

Jungkook rarely said your name, so to hear it come out you knew whatever he said next he either was serious.

“Time to take a break,” he whispered, standing behind you in his kitchen. There were bags of ingredients all over the kitchen and it would no doubt be left there until later when you two woke up. You’d been staying at his place more and more lately and he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He had access to your sweet lips and body daily, but it seemed rare that he wanted sex recently. Not that he wasn’t attracted or he was disinterested, it was merely there were other things about you that he was finding more and more interesting. Sex would always be one of his favorite activities with you, but right now he felt that he was learning new things about you everyday. It had him excited in ways he hadn’t been in centuries.

It also had him concerned.

Jungkook was a demon, he shouldn’t be having feelings like this. It almost shouldn’t be possible. It was not in his design to care much about people or have interest in them other than striking deals and killing them to collect their souls.

But Jungkook pushed all of those worries and thoughts to the back of his head.

Because your frown had appeared again, and that sweet pout he wanted to kiss.

“I’ve almost got it,” you said, voice soft and sleepy.

“I’m sure you do baby, but you’re tired and you won’t work well when you’re falling asleep,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “Come to bed...”

You leaned back heavily against him, looking up at his face while you sighed. With a tired smile you patted his cheek.

“I don’t want to give up for the night yet, you go to bed, I’ll join you in a bit...”

Jungkook wasn’t going to take that for his answer. So he turned the burner on his stove off and lifted you into his arms deftly. You didn’t have it in you to fight him, you expected this result anyways.

He laid you in bed and crawled in next to you. He pulled you into his embrace and sighed heavily as you snuggled in. He wrapped you up in his arms and you looked at his expression and gave him a smile. A real one. In reward he returned it, kissing your lips before laying back on the pillow.

“Sleep baby, we can try again in the morning.”

His words soothed something inside of you, the desperate thirst to have this potion done so you didn’t waste any more precious time.

You could waste a little time though, right?

Here in his arms you thought you could waste a lot more time than you had...

—

A weekend trip to the city was easy to conceal from your coworkers and sisters. You claimed you wanted a weekend away from coven activities-which was a bold-faced lie as you would be using magic in public which was almost exclusively forbidden. And doing it to help a demon.

Needless to say you hoped no one in your coven ever found out about this.

Jungkook grabbed his bag and tossed it into the back of his car as he got your stuff in too. “Got my keys baby?”

You tossed them across his car and he caught them, moving into the drivers side and opening your door for you. You climbed in and buckled up and shortly thereafter you were on the road.

You and Jungkook turned on a playlist and drove out of the town's limits and made it to the highway. Jungkook changed the playlist and you two settled in for a while.

After a bit, Jungkook reached over and grabbed your thigh, driving with one hand on the wheel. You looked down at his hand before gazing back at him.

“What?” You asked softly.

Ten months and three days. That’s how long you had left.

“Just wanted to.”

Your mouth curved into a shy smile before you placed your hand on his, afterwards your fingers intertwined in your lap.

Soon, you rolled into the city. Jungkook had gotten a decent hotel room for a few days for you two to have a home base. You’d find sections of the city where the next soul was and Jungkook could go out at night and collect.

His powers made it discrete however. Usually the attack was made to look like a natural cause. Rarely did it arouse suspicion. All by design.

When you two made it to your hotel room, Jungkook was quick to attach himself to you. He’d been less interested in solely gaining sex from you recently. However it had been a while since your last romp.

His lips found your neck as you tried to get your stuff out of your bag.

“Kook, what do you want?” You huffed as his hard length brushed against your ass. An aroused shiver rushed through you, sex being a little less frequent between the two of you had you more sensitive to his touch than usual.

“Wanna fuck baby, please?” He asked, rutting against your core softly.

You rolled back against him, unable to help yourself in this instant. His body felt so good and you were more than willing to have him between your legs.

“Yes, fuck me, Kook,” you breathed.

Jungkook didn’t waste much time, he hooked his fingers in your pants and pulled them down quickly. Your panties were damp and Jungkook purred at the sight. “You’re so wet baby,” he smiled, his hand dipping in your panties while he kissed your jaw.

You couldn’t help the soft juts of your hips into the cup of his pelvis, causing your ass to grind against his cock. “Fuck… Jungkook,” you whined, head rolling back on his chest. A soft chuckle escaped him at your needy tone.

“Yeah, m’gonna fuck you so hard baby,” he said. His fingers found your wet folds, sinking two inside your entrance shallowly, causing you to clench desperately.

You held his wrist, whimpering in need. “Please, please,” you panted. “Need something inside. Need you inside me, Kook.”

Jungkook kissed your jaw, a smile on his face. “Want my cock baby? Want it in that sweet little pussy?”

“Yeah~” you pleaded.

With a deep sigh Jungkook took his hand from inside your panties, tasting your slick and moaning.

“I need to eat your pussy first,” he said, turning you around and laying you on the bed. You laid back on the bed, peeling your legs open so that he could lay between them. Jungkook grabbed your panties and tossed them away. He breathed out in an eager pant. His eyes were locked on your core and then he looked at you.

“Wanna eat it baby?” you asked, smiling at his hungry eyes.

“Yeah,” he whined. “Let me have it, please baby let me eat your pretty pussy. Make you cum so nice,” he said, licking his lips.

Jungkook looked at your core, furrowed brows as he seemed as if he was almost in pain. “Please…”

You nodded. “Okay baby,” you said with a grin. “Take it then.”

He captured your lower lips in a hot kiss, moaning deeply as he licked between your folds to gather more of your sweetness that had him addicted. “Fuck… yes,” he groaned, moving to hold your thighs apart so he had better access to your dripping core.

“Kook!” You whined, head falling back on your shoulders as your fingers wound into his hair. “Fuck, fuck your mouth!” You cried.

Jungkook was eager to eat, it seemed that no matter how much time he spent between your legs it wouldn’t be enough. He’d always wish for one more minute, your sweet cunt on his mouth and your wetness gathering on his tongue had his cock pulsing in need. But he didn’t care about that, getting you soaking wet for his cock was all that was on his mind.

He took your clit between his pretty lips and started sucking harshly. He swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud before going back to suck again. You mewled in pleasure, thighs trembling at his heady touches. His middle and pointer fingers rubbed over your core before catching at your entrance. With a soft smirk he pushed his two fingers inside your hot walls.

“Jungkook!” you cried, grabbing his hair harshly. He just moaned in acknowledgment, happily slurping the wetness you leaked as he thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy slowly. His eyes shimmered at the sight of your slick coating his digits as it always did.

“I love your pussy so much, fuck,” he growled, lips and chin covered in you.

“So close, Jungkook,” you begged, the throbbing in your walls a clear sign of your oncoming orgasm.

He smirked again, before pulling away. You were about to cry for him to keep going when you heard him unbuckling his pants. With eager hands you moved forward to grab at him, pulling him closer as he chuckled at your neediness.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you scowled.

“Sorry baby,” he cooed, kissing your jaw. “Gonna make you squirt on my cock to make up for it huh?”

You felt the rush of his words tingle down your spine. He rarely didn’t mean what he said. And you were his good girl. If he wanted you to squirt on his cock then so be it.

You two quickly got worked up as Jungkook kissed you breathless and you tugged his pants down his thick thighs. He pulled his shirt off of his body and your eyes always widened. His tattoos were on full display and his toned body moving on top of you had stars forming in your eyes.

“You’re such a slut for a hot body,” he smirked, eyes dark and swirling with red undertones.

“I’m a slut for your hot body, yes,” you corrected. His eyes widened at your statement, but you were pumping his dick in your hand and he quickly felt his need for you taking over.

“Then let me put it in,” he sighed, naked now.

You were pulling your bra off when Jungkook leaned close. You looked at him in bewilderment for a moment before you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

There was this... sensation in Jungkook’s chest. Your bright eyes, teasing smile and sweet kiss encasing him and making him feel...

Lighter.

You laid back once you were naked as well and Jungkook moved eagerly to get in position. You giggled as he dragged you closer, adjusting you so his cock was now level with your pussy.

“Gonna put it in now baby,” he said, pushing just the tip of his cock inside before pulling out. You cried in impatience and Jungkook nodded, listening to both of your desires and pushing in further. Your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed and Jungkook rubbed your clit with his thumb to ease any tension from you so you could take him easily. He pulsed inside your cunt, a shiver of bliss running down his spine. It felt like electricity flowing through him. Your pussy was warm and snug around his cock and he could feel your wetness leaking down onto his balls already and he smiled.

“Jungkook! Please, please move,” you whined, eyes watery and pretty.

“Yes angel baby,” he agreed, thrusting inside of you with a steady pace.

The two of you moaned in appreciation of the other. Jungkook’s thick cock filled you in every way you wanted and needed, hitting all the right fucking spots. You’d never had another partner make you feel this way in the over one hundred years of your life. You clenched tightly and Jungkook swore he almost lost his fucking mind. He grabbed your thigh as he ground his pelvis against yours after every other thrust, holding himself up with the other hand. He was rewarded with your decadent cries.

“Fuck! Jungkook, fuck me baby, please, more-I need more,” you begged, grabbing his upper back and shoulders desperately.

Your wish was his command. He moved your thighs so your knees touched your ribs and started fucking you harder. The sound of your wet pussy swallowing him filled the room and he could hardly think. The only thing driving him was your cries and the pulsing in his lower stomach.

“Fucking wet pussy, yes-yes!” He sighed, his head tipping back for a moment as the pleasure of the moment overcame him.

“So big-so full!” you whimpered.

Jungkook smiled at your mewling cries, they coursed through his veins and made his chest tighten. Bringing you to this point was always so exhilarating. He loved pushing you to your limits and watching you shudder and gasp as he forced you to take it over and over again while the sparkle in your eye never faded. You wanted to take it, take him. You loved challenging him and bringing him to his knees just as often as he did to you.

“Yeah, take my big cock, snug little pussy takes my cock so well,” he growled, leaning down to kiss you with dark passion. He sucked on your lower lip before capturing your tongue in between his lips instead.

“Ahhh~” you whined, his hips pushing harder and harder against yours. He finally released your tongue and pulled you into another deep kiss before giving two more firm thrusts before looking at you, his eyes swirling with their beautiful red hue.

“Wanna fuck you from behind baby,” he purred, pulling from you and encouraging you to roll onto your belly. He spanked your ass, gripping the flesh between his fingers and watching you writhe in need for him.

“Please Kook,” you begged. “Put it back in...” you said, wiggling your hips to entice him. Jungkook spanked you again, causing you to gasp in pleasure.

“Wait for my cock you needy girl,” he said. “I’ll make it worth it,” he promised, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. You leaned your head to the side and reached up to cradle his neck. Jungkook trailed his hand down to your soaked pussy, throbbing with the need to cum. He slipped his fingers inside of you, reaching his other hand around your throat to tilt your head up. You watched him tower over you while his fingers plunged in and out of your sopping pussy.

Jungkook bit his lip while watching your eyes glaze over with the desire to cum. He loved bringing you to this point. Needy, eager and pleading for the pleasure he can deliver to you. “Sweet pussy baby, wanna cum? Wanna cum on my fingers?”

You couldn’t even form words with how good he felt. Your mouth was open as you panted your pleasure out in desperation.

“Or do you want my thick cock making you cream and squirt?” He teased, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that had stars swirling in your vision. “What does my angel want?”

“Kook, p-put your cock in, need it!” You rasped, feeling far too fucked out to handle anymore teasing.

Jungkook honestly couldn’t wait much longer either. His stomach felt tight with desire and he really needed to cum.

“Okay baby,” he cooed. Honestly, Jungkook was at his limit too. He couldn’t wait to feel the walls of your pussy wrapped around him while he plowed you into the bed and finished inside. Fuck, he wanted it so badly.

Finally he lined up with your entrance and pushed inside slowly. A soft cry came from your lips that Jungkook shushed, a lazy smile on his face. “Don’t cry at me baby, I’ll fuck you even harder for it.”

Little did Jungkook know, you wanted the rough treatment right now. You wanted more of it. He sighed in bliss when he bottomed out in your tight cunt, a deep seated pleasure boiling in his stomach. He couldn’t wait to feel you cream around his cock. You were flat on your belly, legs together but ass perched slightly up so Jungkook slid all the more easily.

“Yeah... just like that, good girl angel, that’s my good girl,” he said, starting to pick up pace rather quickly. You didn’t need him to be careful, you needed him to make you cum.

“Kook-Jungkook!” you cried, gripping the sheets between your fingers as he started pounding you just as he promised.

He couldn’t help the grin that fell over his features when he saw that ring of your cream forming at the base of his cock. “Fuck, fuck baby you look so good like this. Letting me fucking cream this pussy, ah~” he whined at your clenching walls sucking him in-begging in their own right for his cum.

“Please kook, so close, let me cum baby, please-I need it, need you Kook!” you cried. Jungkook’s hands found yours as he leveraged his hips so he could go even harder inside you.

“Gonna make me cum baby, make me cum fuck,” he huffed out, breaths coming in short pants. His brow was sweaty and the muscles in his thighs were trembling from the position he was fucking you in. But he didn’t care. Because your pussy was working him over and his balls were tensing as he waited for you to rut those cute little hips back.

Like clockwork you did as he expected, one of your tells you would be cumming soon. “Fuck, Jungkook! So close-so close!” you squealed, gripping his hands desperately as he was slamming into you. The wet squelching noises of your pussy were driving him up the wall and the view of your ass while he wreaked havoc on your body.

“M’gonna cum, angel, tell me where you want it,” he said, panting against your ear as he leaned over you.

“Inside baby, want all your cum inside me,” you whined.

He growled deeply, kissing your neck and biting down while he rutted inside harshly. “Take it then, cream my cock while I fill you up,” he said, another passionate snarl leaving his lips.

You answered with your own sweet mewls of pleasure, egging him on, whispering more naughty things to make him fuck you that much harder.

It didn’t take much longer before you both found yourselves thrown into orgasm. You first, walls squeezing him tightly, pulling him over the edge of bliss alongside you. He breathed hard against your shoulder, kissing along your skin to ease both of you through the intense sensations.

His cum started seeping past his softening cock and Jungkook finally found the ability to move once more. He wandered to the bathroom and got a few washcloths to clean the pair of you up with. Soft kisses were placed along the crown of your head, your cheeks and lips. “Such a good girl, angel baby,” he praised, more words of affection lain across your skin with his mouth.

Jungkook crawled into bed with you, pulling your frame close. “You alright?”

A soft chuckle escaped you, curling into him with practiced ease. “Yeah, m’good,” you said, eyes drooping slowly.

He smiled at you then, and you felt an odd pulse go through you.

The sooner you helped him, the faster he would slip from your grasp. These moments with him were fleeting, each time closer and closer to the last time you’d be entangled like this. Each kiss counting down in big red numbers. Your heart squeezed, and before you knew it, tears started to fall from your eyes.

Jungkook startled at the sudden change in emotion from you. “Hey, what’s wrong baby? Y/N?”

For a moment you really thought.

You really thought that you two could love each other...

Jungkook left your room late that evening. He kissed your head as you slept, curled up in the sheets naked. Jungkook almost didn’t want to leave you, he wanted to sleep as well-he wanted to hold your warm frame against him as he did.

These thoughts were starting to concern him. These were the very kinds of thoughts that had damned him to spend five thousand years on Earth. He wasn’t keen on suffering for another five thousand.

As a demon, Jungkook wasn’t sure if he should be able to feel these things. He was starting to care for you. He wanted to spend time with you, he wanted to be around you. But he knew that your time together was limited. Either he died or was sent back to hell, and either way you two would lose each other in the end.

It made him angry that this was your fate.

He didn’t want his time with you to be on a countdown. But the world is cruel by design and there was nothing Jungkook could do. You would ultimately be ripped from each other.

As he walked down the streets, Jungkook took your potion you’d made to help him navigate all the different souls at once. Jungkook wasn’t used to hunting like this anymore, it felt like decades since his last hunt. Perhaps it was, he wasn’t sure at this point. One thousand souls is a lot of people to collect from, and five thousand years is a long time to be on Earth. He was always forgetting the time before he met you.

Now, his time had never felt more limited.

Jungkook weaved through the people of the night, watching with keen eyes that were enhanced with your potion. Your potion also enhanced his other abilities, his strength and allure were heightened as well.

Everything would increase Jungkook’s likelihood of taking a few souls tonight.

He slid into a seat at a random dive bar, he charmed the bartender to give him a free drink as he walked through the people. There was a woman here, she was in her early thirties. Jungkook followed her, projecting a different face to lure her in.

Jungkook approached her cooly, speaking in soft tones and shy smiles to coax her into divulging her name. He handed her the drink and she blushed softly. The poor woman was in love with her boss, who was married. There was no way they’d ever get to be together. He always felt moderately bad for these people, but before he met you he thought they almost deserved it in a sense. That’s what they got for getting their hopes up. But now....

He led her outside into an alleyway where he seduced her just a bit more. Jungkook breathed her name out, capturing her lips in a kiss, and soon her soul was traveling from her to him, absorbing into Jungkook as he caught her, laying her down on the ground. It looked like she merely had a heart attack and fell over in the alleyway.

A sad ending for her.

Kerri Jesen...

Jungkook walked away from the scene, his old persona melting off and his regular human form, although the feeling of a soul coursing through him had his heart pounding in his chest. It was a rush, almost like getting high. His head was spinning and his mind was reeling, but he knew this was simply due to the fact he hadn’t been collecting souls as frequently.

Usually demons didn’t get this kind of rush.

Jungkook was wandering the streets towards the hotel when the distinct feeling of being watched fell over him.

He didn’t stop moving, but he knew it was a witch tracking him. His mind was still a little hazy from the collection but he knew that it wasn’t supposed to last much longer. He didn’t head back to the hotel yet. He didn’t want to lead an angry witch right to you if he had a choice.

Just as he was about to turn another corner, a blade was presented to his throat. Jungkook stopped moving, the witch brandishing her blade scowling at him.

“Demon,” she spat at him.

“Witch,” he spat back.

“You murdered my sister,” she growled, slicing at him with her knife. He dodged it easily, but he really didn’t want to fight. She wasn’t going to count towards his quota so there was no point in killing her, except to get her off his back.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he answered honestly.

“I saw you!” she yelled. “You were at the bar! Then you shifted,” she said, taking another deep jab at him.

He dodged again, but he could tell she was going to cause a scene with the way she was going. He had to get out and fast. When she lunged again, Jungkook took her by the wrist and threw her onto the ground and took off running. He ran towards the hotel, his only instinct was telling him to head for you.

He bolted into the elevator and then took off towards your shared room. It was almost two am, he didn’t want to wake you but he was afraid he wasn’t going to be given an option.

“Baby,” he called, walking into the room.

You were asleep on the bed, curled up right where he left you. He moved closer and kissed your shoulder. “Baby, Y/N, we gotta go,” he said, urging you to wake.

You did so slowly, exhaustion filling your limbs and making them heavier than lead. “What? What’s wrong Kook?” you murmured, reaching for him slowly.

“Need you to get up, we’ve got trouble,” he said.

Your eyes cleared and you moved to get dressed quickly. Jungkook was starting to grab your stuff when the window to your room shattered.

“Fuck!” You screamed, falling back on the floor as the witch jumped through the now broken window.

“Y/N!”

The witch stood and glared at you. You felt the hostility and rage pouring off her in waves. Whatever Jungkook did, he really really pissed her off. Without much more ceremony you stood and blocked her from Jungkook.

“What are you doing?” you asked, voice firm. “What the fuck is going on?”

“That fucking demon killed my sister-and you... you’re a fucking witch! What the hell are you doing with a demon anyways? Did you summon it?”

“Him,” you corrected. “I didn’t summon him, I’m helping return him to hell,” you stated calmly.

“And helping it return to hell involves fucking it?”

You bristled at her tone.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you warned, feeling your magic swirl in your fingertips.

“Baby-”

“Don’t Jungkook, you stay behind me right now,” you stated.

The witch looked at you with curious eyes. “You love this demon?”

Jungkook’s head snapped to you as you stared straight ahead. This witch was bad news. She wasn’t from your coven, but she was from one in this region you were certain. This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen. Because now she was picking a fight with a different coven. And she knew. She knew you were falling in love with Jungkook and it was her greatest weapon against you in this moment.

You hardly had time to blink before she made her first attack, a flash of lightning directed for Jungkook. You didn’t even move in order to cast your magic, you made a ward that protected him entirely without even the lift of a finger.

“You’re strong, how old are you?” she asked, like the question was an average thing to hear from another person.

“Old enough to know when to pick my battles. I don’t want to fight with you, and Jungkook doesn’t either-”

“That demon killed my sister! I won’t let it live,” she growled.

“I won’t let him die,” you said with a deep tone. Your eyes flashed purple and you sent magical flames towards her feet. They wouldn’t burn anything but the intended target. She shrieked and jumped onto the bed, rolling and throwing a knife towards you. With a quick flash you stopped the blade in the air and turned it towards her, propelling it forward with your magic.

Jungkook was stunned to say the least. He’d never seen you use your magic like this before. He didn’t even know you were capable of this much mana manipulation and things of the like. He knew you were strong before because of how much energy you’d always been able to give him, but this was on an entirely different level.

“You’re betraying your sisters for this?!” the witch cried.

“I am,” you said, a shot of ice towards her. Elemental magic was much more complex than most witches understood, so to have you wielding it so effortlessly had Jungkook impressed all over again.

She dodged it.

“What’s your name huh? What coven do you belong to?” you asked, warding against another attack.

“My name is Maya Tudor, I’m from the Coven of Nyx Rienhardt, and we will not tolerate the murder of one of our own,” she hollered.

“You’re not supposed to act on your own,” you said, blocking more of her attacks. “You’re meant to report this to Nyx herself. She would then dispose of me how she sees fit,” you said, pushing back against her. “Acting on your own without the thought of your sisters is just as damning. Isn’t that what I’m doing? You’re acting no better than me, little witchling.”

Maya shoved back against your wards, causing you and Jungkook to stumble onto the floor. Jungkook caught you, holding you close as Maya attempted another strike when you snapped back with a whip of ice.

She cried as the magic burned her skin, causing a blister to form along her arm. “Fucking bitch!” she snarled, standing back as Jungkook pulled you to your feet.

“Come on,” he said, pulling you towards the door.

The pair of you booked it down the hallway, the sound of Maya hot on your heels made you concerned. People weren’t supposed to know witches and demons or anything in regards to the supernatural. Maya was breaking more rules than you were at this point.

Jungkook and you made it to the parking garage.

He was just trying to get you to the car so you could gather a bit of your strength to help the pair of you get away. At least for now.

“Jungkook, slow down!” you cried, stumbling over your feet.

“Can’t, we gotta get out of here Y/N,” he said, pulling harder.

“Jungkook she’s gonna hear you-fuck!”

With a pained whimper, you fell to your knees. The car was just a hundred yards away. “Y/N?!”

You held your side, as a small dagger peaked between your fingers. Jungkook kneeled with you, looking at the damage. You’d survive, he just had to get you in the fucking car.

Unfortunately, it seemed you had different plans.

You lifted yourself up onto your feet, wavering slightly as you stared at the brat of a witchling who you knew wouldn’t know any better. But honestly, this was too much. You weren’t going to lose Jungkook to her.

Yourself on the other hand...

“Enough,” you said, pulling the dagger from your side and dropping it to the floor. Maya looked at you with disdain evident in her eyes.

“I will get revenge for my fallen sister,” she growled.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” you declared firmly.

Jungkook swallowed hard. This witch was different then he’d originally anticipated. He was starting to sense a difference in her magic. You were taking most of the hits and he wondered why, up until now.

She could slay a demon with the blade she’d hit you with.

Banishing magic.

No wonder you were being so fiercely protective. One hit with those blades and Jungkook would be killed. Or at the very least, sent back to hell.

But you were already hurt, he didn’t want to see you get injured even more.

“Baby,” he called softly.

“Don’t, don’t distract me or she’s going to-”

She sent rapid fire bolts towards you that you had to work hard to dodge, messing with your orientation enough that you stumbled. Jungkook tried to support you but you waved him off. “Go, go baby, get out of here.”

Jungkook scoffed in shock. You were going to sacrifice yourself... for him?

That’s when he understood what Maya said in the hotel room.

You loved him...

Jungkook’s throat got tight as he thought about you. However, his heart didn’t race. It couldn’t, he couldn’t love you the way he is now. Even if he was more human than most demons, he was still-ultimately-a creature of chaos. A creature that didn’t have a typical set of emotions.

Although he knew... He knew deep within himself had he been human, he would love you. He’d love you with everything he was if... if only he could.

Perhaps he should do this for you. He should make the call and give you the last thing he can.

His life.

It would always be yours.

You and Maya were going back and forth. You were doing harder work, protecting yourself and Jungkook as Maya made ground with her attacks. The wound on your side was aching, and there was nothing you could do about it. Not without losing more of your energy that could be spent protecting and hopefully getting this bitch to leave you and Jungkook alone.

You were sweating, the magic energy finally starting to drain. However, the witchling didn’t look much better. If you could just hold out a little longer.

Unfortunately, there was a hidden trump card.

Maya shouted an incantation before you were surrounded with bright light. The pain hit you first as you thudded to the ground gasping, Maya had slammed you with lightning. You weren’t even able to get a ward up to protect yourself from the exhaustion coursing through your veins. Jungkook moved in front of you.

Maya stalked towards Jungkook with purpose. You whimpered from the ground, looking at him with a pained expression. He just gave you his smile before turning to face the witchling once more.

“If I let you kill me, will you leave her alone?” Jungkook asked.

“Jungkook, no!” you cried desperately.

Maya considered it for a moment. “Yes, her coven will take care of her.”

You tried to get up, sending a bolt of ice towards her once more. It threw her on her ass for a moment before she was aiming another lightning bolt in your direction.

“Y/N enough!” Jungkook said, looking back at you. “I’ll do this for you, okay?”

“No, no please don’t do that,” you begged.

Maya approached Jungkook, taking the invitation and slamming a blade into his back. With a grunt Jungkook fell to his knees.

It hurt like a bitch.

But the look on your face was infinitely worse. You looked so sad.

“Justice for my sister has been served, I will leave you to your coven.”

With that, the witchling limped off, her powers effectively drained just as much as yours. If not more so. The only reason she won is because you were doing the work of two people.

It didn’t matter now.

“Jungkook,” you cried, crawling forwards to grab him.

He was bleeding black blood, it was pouring out of the deep gash from the knife in his back. The banishing magic made it so he couldn’t heal himself. Not even your energy would save him now, not like you had enough of it to spare.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, looking up at you. “This should be enough,” he huffed.

“No, I don’t want you to die please,” you said, voice watery and eyes tearing up.

Jungkook smiled at you. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry-I hate it,” he said, reaching to wipe your tears with his thumb. “I’m not worth crying over.”

“You are to me!” you sobbed. “Jungkook... I lov-”

“Shhh,” he shushed you. “I don’t deserve to hear those words,” he said, laying back. “I couldn’t even use my powers to protect you because of how far I’ve let myself fall... You had to make me a fuckin potion so I could hunt, baby,” he coughed. “Don’t say those words to me, I want to say them back but I can’t...”

You were crying hard enough for your shoulders to shake. “Please Jungkook, I don’t care if you can’t say them. I don’t care,” you promised.

“I do,” he whispered. “I want to say them to you someday. But not yet, save it for then...”

You nodded, barely able to speak anymore. “Don’t go...”

Jungkook breathed out slowly. “I’ll see you... again... Promise...”

With those words, Jungkook’s human frame disintegrated into ash, his clothes left behind in your lap and the blackened blood from his wound staining your hands. You gripped his shirt and cried desperately. You cried until your head ached.

You’d lost... everything.

Jungkook woke up in a forest. He wasn’t familiar with this place.

Was he wrong? Did he not get sent back to Hell?

“Nope, you didn’t,” a calm tone called from behind him. Jungkook whipped around to see a shorter man with blonde hair looking at him with peaceful features.

“Who are you?” he asked, stumbling backwards. Where was he? And what was going on?

“I’m Jimin - and to answer those questions stumbling around in that head of yours - we are currently in purgatory,” he said.

“How-”

“Can I know what you’re thinking?” he asked, finishing Jungkook’s statement. He rolled his eyes.

“Stop that,” he demanded. “I thought I would end up in Hell, why am I in purgatory?”

Jimin sighed deeply. “It’s complicated. But, I’ll explain it the best I can... You are a demon that is being punished by the Knights of Hell for acting in the interest of a human - is that correct? You’re Jungkook?”

“Yes, I am,” Jungkook confirmed.

“Very well, then I am here to offer you a wish.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “A-A wish?”

Jimin smiled, eyes disappearing as he chuckled. “Yes, a wish. Just one. You were a demon that sacrificed your life for the life of another. We Angels have deemed that you are entitled to a wish for your acts,” he explained. “Choose wisely,” his voice turned serious.

Jungkook could hardly believe what he was hearing. A wish? For saving you? The woman he wanted to love. He still had this feeling in his chest that he didn't deserve it. He didn’t deserve you. But, maybe he could. If he tried. If he made his wish and found you again, would you take him back? Would you let him love you properly this time?

There was only one way to find out.

“It seems you’ve thought of a wish?” Jimin said with kind eyes.

“A life - with her,” Jungkook breathed. “I wish for a life with her.”

“It will be a human life, you won’t have any magical abilities or powers. I can give you enough money to sustain you for a time but nothing longer than a year. From there you are on your own. If you die or are injured before finding her there is nothing I can do about that,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded. “I want a life with her, that is my wish. As long as I can be with her that is all I want.”

“Then that is how it shall be.”

How had three years gone by already?

You asked yourself this as you wiped down a counter at your job in a local cafe. Your coven had exiled you. You were extremely lucky they didn’t kill you. But they’d taken your magic-giving you enough to leave town and never return.

With that you hadn’t looked back. You only looked ahead, the only person you wanted could be out there right now. Right this very second. You only had enough magic left for a few tracking spells, and they’d led you to the countryside. A smaller town, but big enough to hide in if necessary.

You were hoping he was here. Your magic had never steered you wrong before, you just wanted to see him again.

Was he alright? Did they hurt him in Hell? Was he still a demon or was he able to become human...

All these thoughts swirled in your head. You cleaned the counter tops and the other tables and helped your boss, Seokjin, lock up for the evening.

“Alrighty,” he said, wiping his hands off and smiling. “You’re free to head home! Felix comes in tomorrow morning so you can take the day off if you want?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

You tilted your head but nodded regardless. “Alright...”

What an odd one this guy was, but you decided to let it go-just appreciative of the day off tomorrow as you’d been working doubles the last week.

Seokjin came closer with a smile. His irises flashed a bright neon green for just a moment. You could’ve sworn it happened but somehow you almost doubted your own eyes.

“Go home safely, Y/N, don’t worry about tomorrow here Felix will cover for you,” he said. “Have a good evening.”

With that, he placed his baseball cap on his head and trotted away.

Your mind clicked for a moment but all you could feel was appreciation.

No wonder Seokjin accepted you so quickly.

One exiled witch helps the other...

A small smile was on your face as you made your way back home to your apartment. It was tiny, but it was home and you honestly rather preferred the small space. You’d worked hard to make it cozy and welcoming and-

What the fuck?

The door wasn’t latched. You’d locked and latched that door when you came home. The only other person who had a key is Seokjin which you gave to him for emergencies only and this-

“Baby?”

Your head snapped up at the voice you thought you heard. But when you finally laid eyes on him, it was hard to believe he was actually here.

You looked at him, unable to process that he was actually there. Right there in front of you and you could just reach out and touch him but... the tears started faster.

“What...?” your voice was weak and breathless.

Jungkook stood before you, looking almost as if he’d never left. His hair was still long and curly. He was dressed in decent enough clothes, nothing fancy but he looked strong and well fed. Your heart was trembling in your chest at the mere thought of him coming back to you.

He was a demon, he didn’t have to do anything like this for a simple witch turned human. But here he was, standing inside your apartment.

“Hi...” he trailed off, looking sheepish.

“How did you...?” you asked, slowly moving closer into the apartment and out of the chill of the night. “How did you find me?”

Jungkook shut the door behind you and you turned to fling your arms around his neck. He caught you easily with a shy smile on his face.

“I’ll always find you,” he said, like in some cheesy romance movie. But it made your heart throb in longing all over again.

“Are you a demon? You don’t feel like a demon-”

Jungkook snorted at your questions, knowing that you still couldn’t quite believe he was here. He held you close by your waist, kissing your temple as you breathed him in. “Baby... I’m not a demon, I’m human, just like you,” he said.

It couldn’t be possible. You didn’t just hear those words from him. “H-Human?”

He pulled back from your embrace just enough to look into your eyes. “Look, I don’t have any demonic energy,” he said, his eyes deep brown and there was nothing underneath them but warmth.

Human.

“How?” you asked, reaching forward to touch his face with a shaky hand. He held your hand against his face and leaned into your touch.

“Because I didn’t want to live without you,” he said. “I wound up in purgatory, and Angel granted me a wish due to me sacrificing my life for yours-I wished for... for a life with you, because my time with you-well... I only got a taste of it and I want more, I want more of those days like the ones at my place. I just want to be with you.”

Tears thatched along your lashes as you pulled him closer again.

“Can I say it now?” you whispered against his chest.

Jungkook laughed softly and kissed your head. “I hope to hear it often,” he said, leaning down and pulling you into a sweet kiss. “But wait just a bit longer,” he said, kissing you again.

You were wrapped up into his embrace as he pulled you back towards the couch. You eagerly followed, letting the moment of your reunion fuel this passion boiling in your stomach.

Jungkook kept kissing you, almost as if he were trying to remember every inch of your lips. His hands trailed down your body, squeezing and moaning softly at the alluring softness. “Fuck... Fuck baby,” he grit out.

A teasing smile made its way onto your face. “Yeah? What do you want, Kook?” you nudged your nose against his. You sat down on the couch and pulled him closer by his pants.

He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, watching with hazy eyes as you fished his hardening cock out of his pants. “Please baby, suck my cock for me, missed your pretty mouth so much,” he said, running his thumb from your jaw to your throat and pressing gingerly.

Your lips ran over his cock tantalizingly and Jungkook had to swallow to make sure he didn’t cum on your face. He hadn’t been touched since the last time you two were together and having human stamina now made it a little harder to refrain from his eagerness.

But, Jungkook knew what patience meant, so he calmed himself but his cock was heavy and throbbing in your hands.

“Fuck... must hurt to be this hard,” you said, and before he could growl at you to get started you swallowed his cock with practiced ease. You ran your hands up under his shirt and dragged your nails down his lower stomach while you sucked his cock deeper into your throat.

Jungkook’s hand made it into your hair, gripping it as you bobbed your head to pleasure him. He sighed out harshly through his nose and you knew he was enjoying it. If you could smile you would’ve, his little tells were still the same. He smirked down at you, watching as your pretty eyes locked with his.

“Suck it so well baby, always so good for me my angel,” he groaned, voice turning whiny at the end. “Fuck!”

You took his balls in your hand and palmed them gently. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back in his head, breaths coming out short and stilted at your pleasuring him. You pulled off him for a moment to catch your breath. “Love sucking your cock baby, love it so much,” you smiled.

Jungkook laughed a breath out and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. You bit on it gently causing him to smile. “You wet for me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

You dropped his cock and quickly pulled your pants off as you sat on the couch. Jungkook mirrored your actions, taking his clothes off as you laid yourself on the couch with your knees up, hiding the place he wanted the most right now.

Now, Jungkook wasn’t above begging. In fact, he rather enjoyed it from time to time. He crawled to you, naked and smiling. His hands wound around your calves and squeezed them gently before placing kisses along your shins and ankles.

“Please baby,” he said, lips trailing along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Please open your legs?” he asked, voice sweet and pleading. “Gonna let me eat this pussy? Want my tongue on you?”

You smiled and pulled him in for a kiss while opening your legs so he could touch. He kissed you passionately before leaving tender smooches along the soft swells of your skin. Your breasts first, capturing a nipple between his sinfully sweet lips as his hand trailed to your dripping pussy. He let out a desperate breath against your chest when he pushed a finger inside your heat. “Fuck, fuck baby your pussy-fuck,” he said, moving from your chest to your core with deft movements.

Jungkook looked at your core swallowing his fingers and you couldn’t help the mewls falling from your lips. “B-Baby!” you whined softly, running your hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he breathed against your core. His eyes flicked up to yours and they swirled with hunger. “What is it baby?”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip. “Eat me baby? Please, so needy for you,” you begged.

One of your favorite things about sex with Jungkook was he could be in charge one moment, then the next second you could take it from him. It made the intimacy between the two of you spontaneous and alluring. Jungkook knew you just as well as you knew him and that was exciting. It made you cry for him, begging for the pleasure and bliss you knew only he could give you.

“Alright angel, lean back and let me make you cum,” he said, pulling you closer by your thighs so he could eat your pussy the way he wanted. He placed several warm kisses along your inner thighs before running his tongue through your folds with a fat lick to your clit. You cried softly for him to continue, which he did.

Jungkook made each lick on your center hotter than the last, running his tongue over your clit differently each time. Your feet twitched when he sucked on your core with his plush lips. “Fuck, fuck-Jungkook!” you whimpered, pulling his hair back and away from his face so you could see his flushed face between your thighs.

“Taste so good baby,” he moaned, smiling before licking into your cunt once more.

“K-Koo,” you said. “Please baby, wanna cum,” you moaned sweetly.

His chest throbbed at the sound of your pleased noises. He really wasn’t sure if what he felt with you before was love, but now? Now he knew it wasn’t, because the feeling in his chest... the one taking home in his heart right now was absolutely love.

“I’ll get you there baby,” he promised, sucking your clit into his mouth. He pushed two fingers inside you this time, making your stomach clench in bliss.

“Yeah~ Right there Kook, right there baby please!”

He worked you up further and further, pushing his fingers along with his tongue to create a tension in your belly that had you fit to burst. But just as you would feel yourself cresting to that perfect orgasm waiting for you, he’d slow down or remove his mouth from you entirely.

After the third time you cried at him for it.

“Koo! Baby, please-lemme cum, wan’ it,” you begged, your hairline was sweaty and Jungkook smiled at your desperate sounding voice.

“Tell me one thing baby, then I’ll let you cum,” he said, working you up for the fourth time.

“Anything baby, anything you want.” Your weak tone made him smirk.

“Tell me you love me baby, say you love me and I’ll make you cum,” he said, moving over you to kiss your lips while his fingers still played between your legs.

Your heart stammered in your chest at his request. But it was an easy smile that made it to your face as you answered him after your kiss. “I love you,” you murmured, kissing him with those beautiful words fresh from your lips.

He wanted to kiss those words, he wanted to kiss you and tell you the same... “Baby, Y/N,” he breathed, capturing your lips in a reverent kiss. “I love you,” he said.

Jungkook was stunned at how simple it was to say, and yet it made his heart quake. “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated.

“Jungkook,” you gasped when he pulled his fingers from you to put them in your mouth. You cleaned them as he seemed to want and he moaned with the need to be inside you. Although you were just as eager. Your hand reached down to pump his woefully neglected cock. Jungkook moaned against your temple, hips rutting slightly at the stimulation.

“Want me to put it in now?” he asked, voice breathless.

“Yes,” you whined.

Jungkook didn’t make you wait, taking his cock and lining it up with your soaking pussy. He gave you a look and you just nodded, giving him your consent and with that he pushed inside slowly. You both moaned in pleasure. “Fuck... fuck you’re so wet,” he panted.

“Jungkook!” you cried out. He kissed you desperately then, his mouth searching and hot against your own.

“M’right here baby, always gonna be right here,” he said, voice tender against your skin.

You mewled at his gentle thrusts to open you up. It was so much and yet not enough. “More,” you pleaded with him, hands finding his back.

A sharper thrust made your eyes roll back. “Right there?” he asked, eyes wild and chest heaving. He’d been holding off really well but now that he was inside of your pussy it was game over. He loved being inside of you like this far too much. “Baby your pussy feels so good. Fuck, fuck please,” he gasped.

You smiled at his frantic features. He didn’t want to cum without you. It was sweet, but he really didn’t need to worry. You had almost cum just from him putting it in.

“Jungkook, c-close,” you said, eyes watery and pretty in the evening light.

He nodded. “I’m right there too,” he whispered, thrusting harder and harder into you. It had you seeing stars. He kissed you, sucking on your lips and tangling your tongues together. “Yes, yes, fuck...”

The tightening in your stomach was finally on the verge of snapping once more. Jungkook was whispering sweet words into your ears as he pounded you against your couch. “Fuck-fuck!” you sobbed, arms wrapped around his neck as he covered your body.

You felt a heat in your belly as your orgasm rushed through your body in deep pulses. Jungkook was stunned as you creamed his cock, pulling him along shortly into his own climax as he painted your walls white with his release.

He groaned your name against your neck, shivering and gently coaxing the pair of you through your two highs. You turned your head to kiss him, smiling softly.

“Holy shit,” he laughed, looking at you with a dizzying smile. “Give me a second baby, your pussy almost killed me.”

You snorted at him, kissing him once more regardless. “I missed you,” you said tenderly, pulling him closer. Even as his cock softened inside of you.

Jungkook kissed you back, cradling your head as he pulled out. His eyes met yours and he gave a sweet smile. “I missed you too, but I’ll be here from now on... I’m yours, if you want me.”

“I’ve always wanted you, Jungkook,” you said, kissing his jaw and relishing in the afterglow that was settling into your warm body.

“Keep me then,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll keep you-forever...”

#bangtan sorciere #52hertz #bts #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #demon jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert #Bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #witch reader #jessika hathaway

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fanfictionalraven · 19 days

Text

Faithfully

Title: Faithfully

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters

Word Count: 4, 904

Warnings: Pregnancy

Author's Note: This was an anonymous request. Such a beautiful song and so perfect for Dean. Thanks for the idea Anon!!

Highway run into the midnight sun,

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind,

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight,

Sendin’ all my love along the wire.

“Another?” The bartender asks Dean, pointing to the beer he’d been nursing for a while.

“No thanks. Work tomorrow,” Dean tells him, tossing some cash onto the bar. He and Sam had rolled into town a little earlier in the day. Some case Sam had found; a witch or shifter or…something. Dean couldn’t remember.

“Leaving so soon?” A sultry voice asks. Dean looks over to find a gorgeous, young blonde sliding onto the booth beside him. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward to highlight her ample breasts. A hand reaches for his knee but Dean catches her wrist.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Not happening,” he tells her, letting her go. She rolls her eyes and stands, moving to her next target. Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.

A few years ago, that would have been all the invitation he’d have needed. They would have wandered out to the Impala, maybe made it back to her place for a night of meaningless sex, and he would have returned to Sam first thing in the morning, satisfied. But all that had changed almost a year ago.

As he heads out of the bar and into the cold, he pulls his phone out, smiling at the screen. The picture that greets him is one of his favorites. It’s from the small “vacation” the two of you had taken only a couple months ago. It was one of Bobby’s old safe houses he’d told Dean about; a beautiful little cabin out by a lake. Dean had snapped the picture of you sitting on the small dock, feet dangling off the edge. You’d teased him about pursuing a career in photography after seeing it.

He finds your name with ease and calls as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. It rings twice before you pick up.

“Hey,” you answer. Dean smiles immediately at your voice.

“Hey,” he replies. “Bad time?”

“For you? Never,” you laugh lightly. He smiles even wider at your laugh.

“Still in Utah?” The familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roaring to life comes through the phone.

“Yea. Found the nest though. Taking it out tonight,” you tell him, as you lean back against your car.

“On your own?” Dean asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, Dean,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I’m not stupid, ya know?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” he says. “Just…you know…”

“Awwww. You worried about me, Winchester?” You tease him, pushing off the car and walking to your trunk.

“Always,” he admits, almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost. Your smile softens as you open the trunk, glancing around at your weapons.

“You just calling to check up on me?” You ask, pulling a machete out to check the blade.

“No…just…missed you,” he confesses. You swing the machete around quickly to test it out. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“The cabin,” you finish. “I know. I miss you too.”

The two of you had been off and on for the majority of the time you’d known each other. It had mostly been a friends with benefits situation until last year. Suddenly, you were way more on than off. It was starting to feel like a real relationship. You hadn’t slept with anyone else and Dean said he hadn’t. You trusted him, of course.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dean starts, seemingly getting the subject away from…feelings.

“Haven’t hurt yourself, have ya?” You ask. You can practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to be serious here,” he tells you. You laugh and slam the trunk closed, machete in hand. Your cousin’s car pulls up, parking next to your own. You smile and wave at her.

“Serious. Right. Sorry. Go ahead,” you say.

“I was thinking you should come to the bunker,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“I was planning to come by after this,” you tell him. He sighs and cuts the engine off, having reached the motel.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant,” he says. You hold up a finger to your cousin, asking her to give you a minute when she gets out of the car. “You should move…into the bunker…with me.” You’re mid swing on the machete when he asks, causing you to freeze. The machete slips from your hand, landing near your cousin.

“Jesus, Y/N!!” She snaps. You wave a hand at her in apology as you walk away.

“What are you saying, Dean?” You asks. He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m saying that…I’ve really started to hate sleeping alone, sleeping without you. I hate waking up without you,” he starts. “Now, I don’t wanna tie you down or anything. Do your hunts, whatever you want. I just want the bunker to be…home.” You hold the phone away for a moment and breathe deeply. You were mere moments from clearing a vampire nest. You weren’t about to cry. Returning the phone to your ear, you can’t help but smile.

“Dean,” you say. “I’ll go anywhere you go. You’re already my home.” Dean smiles and closes his eyes for a second, thanking anyone who was listening.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,

Right down the line, it’s been you and me,

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

You walk into the kitchen of the bunker one morning, stretching. Sam’s already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. You smile at him widely and walk over, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Morning, Sammy,” you tell him. He looks at you and laughs lightly.

“Good morning,” he says, watching as you walk over to the counter, humming. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, swaying to the music in your head. “You’re awful perky this morning.”

“Am I?” You ask, glancing back at him. He laughs and nods. You shrug, leaning against the counter.

“I guess you two had a good Valentine's Day?” He asks.

“We had a great Valentine’s Day,” you laugh.

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam tells you, looking back at his computer. Dean comes in, a smile to rival yours plastered on his face. He walks over and kisses you quickly before getting his own coffee. Sam looks at the two of you and starts to laugh. “Is that a hickey??” He asks. You and Dean exchange glances before Dean moves your hair from your shoulder, examining your neck briefly. He smirks.

“Looks like it,” he says. You laugh and shrug at Sam.

“I said it was great,” you tell him. Dean smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

“I found a case. If either of you care,” Sam announces. Dean sighs as he let you go and turns to his brother, taking a drink of his coffee. “Stacy Altman, 19 year old babysitter from Hudson, Ohio was murdered last night,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Oh, that blows. But if her name’s not Amara, how is that us?” He asks. You lean against Dean and he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Because her heart was ripped out,” Sam tells you both. You grimace and Dean nods.

“On Valentine’s Day? What is that, like an ironic werewolf? Alright, we’ll check it out. But first, I need bacon.” Dean gives your waist a squeeze then looks down at you. “You coming?”

“Think I’ll hang back, keep working this Amara thing,” you tell him, going to leave the kitchen. Dean smirks and gives your ass a quick smack. You let out a squeak of surprise and look back at him as you go into the hallway. You just hear Sam mutter something about the two of you being disgusting as you head back towards your bedroom.

Glancing over your shoulder, you close the door behind you before locking yourself in the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, then pick up the stick you had left on the counter earlier.

“Please be negative,” you mumble a quick prayer.

You and Dean had only been together for about a year. You were both hunters. God’s sister was currently on the loose and very much out to end the world. This had to be the absolute worst timing. The two of you hadn’t even discussed starting a family. It certainly wasn't on your radar and you couldn’t imagine it was on Dean’s either.

You’d bought the pregnancy test a few days ago when your period failed to make its monthly appearance. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean yet, didn’t want him freaking out over nothing. Cause that’s all this was, of course. Nothing.

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you nearly jump out of your skin. You flip the test over and…

About a day later, Dean pulls the Impala into the garage of the bunker. He sighs as he cuts the car off and lays his head against the steering wheel. Sam looks at him and smiles a little.

“Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you cheated on her,” he says. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Doesn’t feel different,” he says. “We just had this great day, things were going so well…”

“She won’t be upset, Dean. Come on,” he says, getting out of the car. Dean frowns then gets out as well. They both get their bags and then head to their respective bedrooms. Dean tosses his bag into the corner then sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face.

You make your way down to the room nervously, wringing your hands. You’d been practicing your speech ever since you’d read the test. You had it all planned out and were absolutely prepared to tell Dean. That was until he’d told you they were headed home. The minute you’d received that text, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You had been running every possible bad scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Dean?” You ask, stepping into the bedroom. You frown when you see him so distraught. “What’s wrong??” You ask. He pats the spot next to him and you bite your lip as you walk over. He knows. He already knows and he’s breaking up with me. You sit down next to him and he turns to face you.

“This case…it was a witch, a curse…it was passed by kissing. I kissed the woman who had it and got it passed to me so she was safe,” he explains. You let out a breath and take his hands in your own.

“Dean, did you think I’d be upset about that?” You ask with a laugh. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not finished,” he tells you. Your smile falls slightly and he looks at your hands. “The curse, it takes the form of your deepest, darkest desire and then that person or whatever kills you.”

“I’m…guessing that wasn’t me,” you say. He shakes his head. “Amara?” You already knew before he said anything else. From the moment she’d been freed from her cage, she had some weird connection to Dean. It had only been a few weeks since he told you that she’d kissed him and he couldn’t help but kiss her back. It stung, sure, but you knew it wasn’t Dean.

“I don’t want this, Y/N. I don’t want her. I just can’t shake this hold she has on me. Sitting here with you right now, I want nothing more than to kill her,” he starts quickly. “But when I’m around her, I can’t do anything.” You let his hands go and take his face gently, raising it up to meet yours. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, Dean. I know you love me. We’ll shake this Amara thing soon enough and get back to normal,” you assure him. “You and me. And…whoever else comes along.” He looks up at you, confused. You smile at him and stand, walking over to the desk. It isn’t until now that Dean notices the small gift bag sitting on it. “It’s a little late for Valentine’s now but…” You shrug and hand him the bag. He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you before pulling the pink and blue tissue paper out of it. He looks into the bag, then up at you quickly.

“Is this…” He stops before sliding the contents of the bag into his hand. His hands shake as he flips it around, trying to find the little screen for confirmation.

Pregnant.

“Oh my god,” he says, staring down at the test in his hand. “This is…”

A mistake. The worst possible timing. Not what I want at all. You brace yourself against the desk behind you, waiting for the death blow.

“This is…incredible,” Dean says finally, looking up at you. There are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over but his face changes the second his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, jumping up quickly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over. “Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which…is really saying something for us.”

“You’re happy,” you say quietly, looking at him. His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in your state.

“What? Of course I’m happy!! I mean…” He stops and shrugs. “Timing could be better but…a baby!!” He lets out a laugh and lifts you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room. You squeal and laugh as well, tears of sheer joy and relief streaming down your cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad!! Sammy!!” He calls out, setting you on your feet. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway quickly.

Circus life under the big-top world,

We all need the clowns to make us smile,

Through space and time, always another show,

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you,

3…2…1…*beep, beep, beep*

You stare into the microwave as the light goes out. Popping the door open, you grab the bottle and test the milk on your wrist. Perfect temp. You turn to go feed your three month old son and accidentally send the stack of neglected and dirty dishes crashing to the floor.

“Dammit,” you curse, setting the bottle on the counter. Kneeling down, you start to pick up the pieces of the shattered dishes and old food.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, stepping into the room. “What happened?” She comes over quickly to help. You glance up at her and shake your head before hissing in pain. You’d managed to cut your hand on a shard of glass. “Oh, Y/N.” Falling back against the counter behind you, your emotions overwhelm you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mary,” you cry.

Dean and Sam were missing. They had taken on Lucifer once again and this time he was possessing the president. That was almost two months ago. For two months you've been struggling to take care of your newborn son on your own. Sure, you had Cas and Mary but it wasn’t the same. D.J. needed his father.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I…what do you need me to do?” She asks, handing you a dish towel. Wrapping it around your cut hand, you glance back up at the bottle.

“Could you feed D.J. for me? I just…I need a minute,” you tell her.

“Of course,” she says. She gives your arm a quick, reassuring squeeze before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You lay your head back against the counter and close your eyes, allowing the tears to fall once again as you contemplate life as a single mother. You knew this life was risky, of course. You knew there was always a chance one of you wouldn’t come back from a hunt. You just didn’t expect it to be two months into actually being parents.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cas asks, when he sees you. You shake your head, eyes still squeezed closed as you cry.

Cas frowns as he walks over, taking in the disaster that is the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down next to you. You lay your head over on his shoulder as the sobs rake through your body. Cas shifts awkwardly and you feel his arm come around your shoulders, comfortingly. The pain alleviates in your hand and you pull it from the towel, perfectly healed.

“Thank you,” you mumble between sobs.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he says. You wipe at your cheeks and shake your head.

“Please stop blaming yourself. You followed the plan,” you tell him, laying your head back on his shoulder.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, you don’t know how long. Eventually, you sit up and find a clean part of the partially bloodied towel to wipe your face. You rise from the floor and look at the mess at your feet before taking in the rest of the kitchen. You’d really let things slide lately. You sigh and shake your head, going to get the trash can. Mary comes back into the kitchen.

“No,” she says. You stop and look at her.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You need to go get some rest. Take a shower. Take a nap. Refresh and reset,” she tells you, taking the trash can from your hand.

“Mary, there’s too much to do,” you respond, looking around at the kitchen again. It wasn’t just the kitchen either. You knew the library, war room, and bedrooms needed your attention as well.

“Castiel and I will take care of it,” she says, sending a pointed look to the angel as he gets up from the floor. He nods, looking at you.

“Of course,” he says. Looking between the two, you realize there’s no point in arguing. You were absolutely exhausted, barely able to get any sleep the last two months. Mary smiles at you, reassuringly.

“Shower. Bed,” she tells you. You sigh and nod, reaching for the baby monitor but Mary snatches it up quickly. “I’ve got him too.”

“Okay,” you surrender, holding your hands up.

You head down the hall and steal a quick peek in at your son, sleeping soundly in his crib. Continuing down the hall, you go into yours and Dean’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. One hour-long, steaming hot shower later, you slip into one of Dean’s t-shirts then under the covers. You don’t expect sleep to overwhelm you as quickly as it does. Your last thoughts are the same as they’ve been for the last two months.

Where are you, Dean?

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair,

Two strangers learn to fall in love again,

I get the joy of rediscovering you,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

Dean smiles politely at the waitress, taking his order. She was clearly flirting with him even though he’d told her about you and D.J. She walks off to put his order in, dinner for him and Sam to go, and he pulls his phone out to call you. It rings three times before you pick up.

“Hey,” you say, smiling. You’re sitting in the library, having just gotten D.J. down for the night.

“I miss you,” he says with a sigh. “This waitress won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. Is Dean Winchester complaining about being hit on?” You laugh. He shakes his head as he glances around, his eyes landing on the mechanical bull.

“I told her I had someone back home and a kid. She’s still flirting,” he says, watching as someone gets thrown off. He lets out a chuckle. “I was better than that,” he mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“There’s a…a mechanical bull,” he tells you. You throw your head back, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I would pay to see that,” you tease him.

“Hey. I was awesome,” he assures you.

“Man. I can’t believe I missed that,” you say, still laughing. He smiles and shakes his head before someone catches his attention.

“Babe, I gotta let you go. Think I just got a lead on our case,” he says, standing up quickly. Your smile slips slightly and you nod.

“Be careful,” you tell him before he hangs up. You sigh and lean back in the chair.

“Dean’s been hexed. He’s losing his memory.”

That was the call you’d received from Sam earlier in the day. He thought it might be best if you were there to help. Thankfully, Mary had been in the neighborhood so she could keep D.J. for you. You’d peeled out of the garage, tires squealing as you headed for Arkansas, a 7 and a half hour drive. You make it in six.

You whip into the parking lot of the motel Sam had given you the address to and park next to the Impala. Grabbing your bag, you make for the door of the guys’ room and knock quickly. However, it isn’t Sam or Dean who answer the door but Rowena. Your shock gives way to anger almost immediately.

“Did you do this??” You snap, stepping up to her quickly. Her eyes widen in surprise before she smiles.

“Afraid not, dear,” she says. “But I am here to help.”

“Help? Are you kidding?” You ask, looking at Sam as he steps up behind Rowena.

“I know, I know. But...I didn’t know where else to go,” he explains. You sigh and glance around, spotting Dean sitting on one of the beds. He’s laughing at whatever he’s watching on the TV. He looks over and his eyes lock with yours before he smiles widely.

“Hi,” he says, standing. He remembered you. You smile as you walk over to him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands resting on his arms. He looks down at your hands then back at you.

“Much better now that you're here,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m, ugh…I’m…”

“Dean,” Sam says, frowning.

“Yea. I’m Dean,” he says, introducing himself. Your smile fades as you take a step back. He didn’t remember you. It was worse than you’d thought. Sam’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you shake your head.

“I need some air,” you say quietly before leaving the room. Dean frowns as you go and Sam sighs, ushering him to the bathroom to talk. He explains the situation to him, reminding him of everything, everyone. Dean runs a hand over his face.

“So, after everything…that’s it. This is what nails me,” he says. Sam shakes his head quickly.

“No. No, no. Dean. I-it,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “It’s not gonna happen, all right?” Dean looks at him and Sam can see the fear in his eyes.

“Well, you just told me my whole life story. And I gotta be honest, man. I…I can feel it, slipping out of my head. I mean ganking monsters is one thing. But this…” He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot Y/N and my own son.”

“We’ll figure it out. We will,” Sam assures his older brother before standing up. He leaves the bathroom and finds you outside the door.

“Can I?” You ask, pointing to it. Sam nods and steps out of the way. You push the door open slightly and peek in. Dean is standing over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Ugh, Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast - Cas is my best friend. Y/N is my wi…girlfr…” He stops and you sigh before stepping into the bathroom.

“Girlfriend,” you provide. He looks over at you then down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against the door. He walks over quickly and wraps you up in a tight hug as though clinging to your very memory for dear life.

“I don’t remember what he looks like,” he says quietly. You can hear the crack in his voice, the emotion choking him up. You’re fighting tears yourself now.

“Just like you. Your eyes and everything,” you say.

“What’s D.J. even stand for?” He asks, still clinging onto you.

“Dean Junior,” you tell him. He nods and looks down at you. “You didn’t really want to name him after you but I insisted. Cause I want him to be just like his father.” He smiles a little before leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna fix you, Dean. I swear.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance back.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Sam says.

“I’m coming,” you call back to him. You look up at Dean once more and take his face in your hands. You stand up on your toes, closing the distance between the two of you, and kiss him. You had to tell yourself this wouldn’t be the last kiss the two of you would share. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you. You can’t be sure if he actually means it or if he’s saying it back to spare your feelings at this point. Did he even remember how much you two loved each other? You smile at him before leaving the bathroom and following Sam out the door. Dean rushes out behind you to the desk inside the room. Rowena watches as he jots down a quick note and sticks it in his front pocket. He glances at her and she raises an eyebrow. “Just a reminder…”

The three of you get back to the bunker later the next day, Dean’s memories restored. Mary meets you all in the garage, D.J. in her arms. Dean practically bursts from the car and rushes over, taking his son. Mary smiles as she hands him over.

“Glad you’re better,” she says, patting his shoulder. Dean smiles at her before kissing D.J.’s forehead.

“Can’t believe I forgot him,” he says quietly. You smile as you walk past, heading towards the bedroom to put your bags away. Dean watches you go before looking at his mother. “I need your help.” She nods.

“Of course. With what?” She asks. He pulls a piece of paper from his front pocket.

“I don’t remember writing it but…it’s my handwriting. And I mean…” He trails off as he hands the paper to her. She reads it and her eyes widen before looking back up at him.

A few minutes later, Dean comes down to the bedroom and leans against the door frame, watching you. You’re busy taking the clothes from both of your go bags and putting them into the hamper to take care of later. You glance back and smile.

“I figured you’d still be spending time with D.J.”

“Wanted to spend time with you,” he says, walking in. He closes the door before walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile as you slip your arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses you gently, his hands sliding over your waist slowly. He pulls away too soon and you lean in again. He laughs lightly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you laugh.

“I wanna give you something,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a folded piece of paper out and holds it up between the two of you. “I wrote this at some point during the whole…hexed thing.” You take it, giving him a skeptical look. He seems nervous and you can’t figure out why. You unfold the piece of paper slowly.

Dean. If you survive this, marry Y/N.

It was scratched onto the paper quickly and sloppily but it was for sure Dean’s handwriting. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you look back up at Dean. He’s watching you, trying to read your face, as he reaches into his pocket once again. This time he produces a ring.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I, ugh…I thought I was going to have to save up to buy a ring but,” he stops and shrugs. “Mom gave me hers. Didn’t even ask. Said she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh my god,” you say again, swallowing thickly.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He asks. You take a shaky breath as the tears finally start to fall.

“Yes,” you tell him. He smiles widely and pulls you in for another kiss. This time you pull away too soon, holding your left hand up. “I want my ring.” He laughs lightly as he looks at it.

“Dad had it inscribed. I didn’t know that. Mom just showed it to me,” he says. You take it and hold it up, trying to read the inside. You smile widely as you make out the two words. They couldn’t have been more true for the two for you. He takes the ring back and slides it onto your left hand before lifting you and tossing you onto the bed.

Forever yours.

****

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #reader insert #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #request #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #faithfully #journey

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