Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

088 | They Tell You They Cheated On You [Balth, Luci, Crowley, Jack] [Requested]

B A L T H A Z A R

When she cried there was a rawness to it, like it mimicked the stinging pain from a still open wound. She would clasp onto something for support, anything, a table or a chair, and then her whole body would shake. The sobs would be stifled at first as she attempted to hide her grief, but then she would be overcome by a wave of deep emotion, breaking her walls down entirely. All of her defenses would be washed away in salty tears and light hiccups. When at last, she would turn to the source of her devastation, facing it head on and tonight it was him that captured her attention.

As he looks at her, he could practically see her mind racing. Her brain told her over and over again that things would be okay, but the sound of her cries preached a different story. He had broken her at that moment. He knew then that this mistake would cost him everything and there was no making it disappear like the countless other errors he made in the past. This was different; it cut deeper and hurt more.

"I'm sorry," he says weakly.

She winces at the sound, as if his voice brought her pain. "I know you are," she whispers, "but, it only makes it worse."

There was another pause of silence, before the sound of flattering wings echoed across the room, signaling that he was gone and she could cry the rest of her sorrows away in peace.

L U C I F E R

Her tears burst forth like water leaking from a dam, spilling down her face at a rapid pace. The muscles of her chin trembles mocking the actions of a small child in distress before looking down towards the floor as if the absence of his gaze would soothe her pain away. There is a static in the room, neither one of them willing to speak under the pressure of his concession that hung in the air. He hears her whimpers, like a wounded animal, completely raw from the inside and destroyed on the outside. It takes everything for her not yell or scream at him, but stay silent.

"Will you please say something, love."

He was desperate for an answer or even a reaction. One that he was not expecting. One where you to hit him. One where you yelled at him. One where you threw things. One where you exploded with anger. He would take all of those unexpected outcomes because it would so much easier than having to watch you silently fall apart. However, he knew deep down you weren't violent nor were you one to lose control.

She sniffs, wiping her tears with her sleeves. "What do you want me to say," she whispers bitterly, a tone he never thought she was capable of.

He pauses. For a moment he thinks he knows. He's certain of what he wants her to say; what he wants her to do. But, then he looks at her; really looks at her, and the words get caught between his teeth. He sees all the damage that he has caused, realizing that this time she may not forgive him. The thought breaks him in inside, but true to his stubborn nature he resorts back to being cold. Without another word, he walks out. Where he would end up, he wasn't sure and nor was she.

C R O W L E Y

"GET OUT."

There was something in her scream, a pain locked behind it. He watched. He watched her eyes. Then he knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for the pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for their life, lonely and desperate. She breathed in real slow, stopping the tears that she believed would make her look weak. She gathers herself, finally daring to look at him. If only looks could kill, he would be dead within seconds.

"I SAID GET OUT."

Though he doesn't want to, he obeys her wishes and he's gone seconds later.

Suddenly she is surrounded by stillness. As much as she tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads of water started falling down one after the other, with no signs of stopping anytime soon. She hits the wall and tries to scream again, but her voice was melted by the sound of his confession ringing in her hears. The muffled sobs wracked against her chest and the world around her turned into a blur. The taste. The smell. The sight. Everything was numb.

As he watched her in the distance, he receives the opposite reaction. He senses her pain. He feels everything he's done to her and more. He knows then that he's never going to feel the same; not without her.

J A C K

He's seen almost every breakup scene in every movie possible. He's seen actors shed tears over relationships in every TV show imaginable. Yet, he realizes in this moment that they've never truly cried. From what he's observed it was a fake cry; one that lacks emotion because, at the end of the day, it wasn't real. The pain was made up.

But, Y/N. She was real.

Her eyes were swollen and red. She was unable to speak, unable to breathe, unable to form a proper sentence. The world around her became a blur of faded colors that melted into gray. The weight over her chest became heavier and air locks tight in her throat, almost as if she was choking. The pain palisades with every thump of her heart, the slightest remembrance of his confession making it harder to even stand. And, of course, he couldn't forget her tears. Small crystal beads that trail down her cheeks to her neck, only to blend into the clothing that she wore or to fall off her trembling lips. She was a mess and he had made her that way.

No, it was nothing like he thought. It was much, much worse. And, God, he wanted to fix it. He truly did. He wanted to confessed his love for her, to tell her that she's the only one he cares about, to make up with her like he's seen a hundred times over in those same movies and TV shows. However, he knows it won't end like that. This wasn't TV, this was real life, this was real feelings.

"I think you should go."

"But—Y/N."

"No, please, Jack. Just leave."

He doesn't argue back like he wants to. Instead, he respects her wishes and leaves without another word.