#bobby's pulling out all her charm

[caramelcove]

Cat distribution system had a bit of a malfunction 😬

Stay tuned for the continuation 🥰💕💞

Part 1.5

[eclairemaire]

Meeting the Missus pt. 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Wife! Reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: The Team finds out Bob is married and wants to meet the missus.

Warnings: Slight allusions to mature content(nothing explicit ever stated though), Reader is described very similarly to Rhea Ripley, Reader and Bob are very much in love, No mention of Y/N used, Southern Reader (she's like all southern ladies sweet like iced tea, but can knock you on your ass if she has too), Express mentions of reader and Bob's Child, Lemme know if I missed any.

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: This is the second part of 'Meeting the Missus'. I highly recommend reading the first part before reading this. Please enjoy!!! And I will continue to update as I'm able.

After the first meet-up with the dagger squad at the Hard Deck, it became almost routine that every other week or so, you would meet up with them for an evening at the bar. Bob wasn’t all that surprised that the team liked you so much; what wasn’t there to like? All that southern charm wrapped up in a woman who had all the means to be anything but. The team had pestered him so much about what you even did all the time and why they only got to see you every other week, but working from home and being a full-time parent had taken up most of your time.

“So Bobby, when are we going to get to meet this kid of yours that you keep hidden all the time?” Hangman asked as the squad made its way to the locker rooms from the hangar.

“Probably soon,” Bob said, wiping sweat from his brow. ”The missus is planning to have a cookout soon, and I get the feeling that all of you will get invited, seeing as neither of us has family here in San Diego.” 

“Oh? An invitation to your home and free food.” Rooster sighed, “Man, are you sure that’s a good idea? We might never leave.”

Putting his helmet on the bench and starting to remove his flight suit, Bob sighed as well, “I don’t have a choice in the matter. She tells me what she plans, and I do what I can.” He shivers at the reminder of what happened when he didn’t do something you asked of him when you were pregnant; he’ll forever be haunted by the memory.

“I can’t tell if that’s because you love her so much or if you’re scared of your wife?” Fanboy says as he starts putting on his civvies.

“Can’t you tell it’s both?” Coyote states as he shoves something into his locker, “That woman is capable of folding any of us like lawn chairs if she wanted to.”

Bob looked at the rest of them with a look that said, ‘I’m not answering that question.’ Grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, and shoving the truck keys into his front pocket starts to leave.

“I’ll see y’all tomorrow, and let you know when the cookout is,” he waved a hand over his shoulder and exited the locker room.

Pulling into the driveway, Bob sees the lights off in the house and hears music and laughter coming from the backyard. Unlocking the front door and putting his bag on the bench in the entryway, he’s greeted by one of the dogs. 

“Hey Nuggs,” he says quietly, squatting down to give the dog some pets. “I’m home!” He yells as he stands up and starts moving toward the back door.

“DADDY!” Little feet can be heard running toward him as the back door opens. Seeing his kiddo coming at him full speed, Bob braces himself for the incoming tornado that is his daughter. Picking her up and spinning her around, he smiles as he sees you approaching after shutting the back door. “Hi, Bug.” He tells Riley as he places her on his hip, turning to you, kissing you on your cheek. “My love.”

“Ewww..” Riley says, starting to squirm in his arms. “Daddy you’re gonna give Mama cooties.” He turns to her and starts peppering her face with kisses, and giggles erupt from Riley as soon as his attention his on her, making her squirm even more.

“Cooties? Mama can’t get cooties from me she’s got super powers” he giggles at her squeals, as you watch with a fond smile as you lean against the wall with your arms folded over your chest showing off the muscles that reside there. Riley turns to look at you from her dad's arms and smiles.

“Yeah, Mama’s got super strength and super love!” She exclaims, eyes bright with admiration for her mama. Bob sets Riley down with a warm smile.

“Bug, why don’t you go wash up before we eat dinner?” you ask her before she scampers off down the hall and up the stairs to get ready for dinner. Leaning off the wall and stepping into Bob’s bubble, you smile as you string your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist, hands resting on your lower back.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” It’s a quiet exchange before he leans down to kiss you on your lips, it’s soft, full of love, and longing after a long day apart. Pressing his forehead to yours, he asks, “How are you?”

“Good, it’s been a productive day, Riley had a good nap, and I got plenty of work done and dinner made on time with no major disasters. The only thing missing was my wonderful husband.” You say pecking his lips. “How was yours?”

“The usual, drills, reports, pushups. Told the squad about the cookout,” he said, noticing the furrowing of your brow, “Didn’t give them a date but a forewarning that it’d be happening at some point in the future.”

“Oh, ok, good, guess I’ll move up the date then.” You said, stepping back and turning toward your office through a pair of French doors down the hall, Bob follows silently. Going up to the big calendar on the wall, looking over the dates and what has good availability, for all the prep needed for what you were planning.

“It doesn’t have to be soon,” he says, observing you as you head toward your desktop to check your work calendar. 

“No, no, it’s all good. My current project should be done by next Wednesday at the latest. That’ll give me all of Thursday and Friday for prep and Saturday morning for last-minute arrangements if necessary.” Stepping away from your computer and heading to the exit of your office, you motion for him to scoot out of the way so you could close the office doors. Just as you head for the kitchen, you hear a thump from upstairs and then the sound of muffled cries from what could only be your daughter. Sharing a brief look at each other, you both rush up the steps to see Riley in the hall with what appears to be carpet burn forming on her forehead as she looks up at both of you with tears in her eyes. Her lip wobbles for half a second before she wails at the top of her lungs.

“Ma-Mama,” She sobbed as she reached out for you. Bending down and picking her up swiftly, she tucks her head under your chin and wraps her arms around your neck, as Bob starts to head to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“Meet you in the kitchen,” you say as you turn down the stairs and go to the kitchen. Setting Riley on the island countertop, you grab a wash cloth and wet it with cool water to dab against her forehead. “What happened, Bug?” You ask, your tone soft. Bob is next to you, first aid kit set open on the counter, grabbing Neosporin and several band-aids for her to choose from.

“I tripped an-an-and fell on’ta floor,” she said, hiccups coming in strong as she tried to calm down. Bob had started to rub circles on her back as her hiccups continued and her tears started to slow. Wiping her tear tracks with the wash cloth and stepping away so Bob could apply Neosporin to her forehead.

“Oh, Bug,” Bob said as he finished applying the cream and wiped his fingers clean with the damp wash cloth. “How would you like to pick out a band-aid, then eat dinner and watch a movie after with me and your mama, does that sound good?” he asked, holding out the band-aids for her to choose from. She nodded her head as she reached for an orange one with dinosaurs on it, her eyes glossy as she looked up at both of you.

“Ok,” you say as you take the band-aid to put it on her forehead. Afterward, Bob picks her up and takes her to the dinner table, and you get everyone a bowl of food, and you all eat as soft conversation flows.

After all the dishes are put in the dishwasher, you all pile on the couch, Riley in between you and Bob, as the opening scenes for ‘Quest for Camelot’ play on the screen. By the end of the movie, Riley is having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Bob picks her up as you both go upstairs to tuck her into bed. Placing a kiss on both of her cheeks, you say, “Good night, Riley, I love you.” She snuggles up to her stuffed animal as Bob does the same.

“Night, muma, da’dy… love you,” She mumbles as she squishes into her blankets. You and Bob slowly back out of the room and close the door. Heading into y’all’s bedroom just down the hall.

Once inside, Bob shuts the door behind you, grabs your hand, and heads to sit at the end of the bed. Sitting down, he pulls you in between his legs, his arms wrapping around you, holding you there, and rests his head against your chest. Carding your fingers through his hair as you sway lightly. You both stay that way for a few minutes, just basking in each other's presence. You move to sit next to him on the bed, facing each other, you take off his glasses and set them aside. You lean your forehead against his and look into his eyes, they were a magnificent blue, as though they held all of the oceans within them, deep and filled with love. Tilting in to kiss him, deliberate, sensual, filled with all the love you carried for him, he returned the kiss with fervor, one hand on the side of your face, the other holding your hip as you leaned into him. Letting out a hum as you release him from the kiss.

Looking at his still closed eyes, “I’m going to wash up.” It was hushed, barely spoken above a whisper, moving to head towards the ensuite in an unhurried manner, he held onto your hand until you were out of reach. “You can always join me,” it was said in an unserious tone as you entered the bathroom. Bob just groaned from his spot on the bed.

The following morning, Bob woke up enveloped in your arms as your head rested on his shoulder. He was surrounded by your smell and your heat. Placing a kiss on your forehead, he started to unravel himself from you. As soon as he started to move, you started mumbling in your sleep, small, incoherent thoughts.

“Mhmm, ugh, sweetheart, is it time for you to go already?” You mumble as you try to pull him back into the bed. It was a good thing you didn’t have a good hold on him anymore ‘cause that would’ve been a losing battle for him.

“Yes, my love,” he leaned down to place a kiss on your head, before he started to get ready to head to base. Getting dressed in his khakis and heading downstairs, grabbing an apple and a protein bar to eat on the way to base, he started to dig through the fridge for some leftovers from dinner the night before to take as his lunch. Before leaving for the day, he went upstairs to hug and kiss you goodbye before going to Riley’s room to do the same and wish her a good day.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!! PJO please? Dealers Choice if not

Spring break freshman year, he agrees to go home with Jess to meet her family. The consensus among their friends is that she’s insane for asking and he’s equally insane for saying yes, but he and Jess are on the same page. They fell into each other instantly, a comfort and familiarity with one another that feels like it should have taken decades to build instead happening in mere months. He’s nineteen and in love and he’s trying not to be stupid about it, but every time Jess smiles at him he feels like he’s looking at the rest of his life. He hopes he is, anyway.

“They’re going to hate you,” Brady says. “Don’t take it personally. They hate everyone.”

“They’re scary,” Zach says plainly.

Becky elbows him and corrects, “They’re intense.”

Zach and Brady give her equally dubious expressions.

Luis claps him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Sam. If it’s any consolation, my dad loves you.”

“My mom would love you if she met you, but I can’t really recommend the experience,” Brady says.

“Our parents probably wouldn’t like you, but they don’t even like us, so I wouldn’t take it personally,” Zach says, then high fives Becky when the rest of them make various noises and expressions of distress. Sam’s pretty sure describing his childhood as neglectful is being kind about it, but at least he never felt like his father’s absence was due to disinterest.

He’s faced down ghosts and werewolves and witches and a whole host of things that were actively trying to kill him at the time. He can handle an uncomfortable weak with Jess’s parents. It helps that she’s already told him straight out that their opinions of him won’t change how she feels about him. Which unfortunately supports the idea that they’re going to hate him, but at least takes some of the pressure off.

Jess comes from money, something he already knew, but driving up to a freaking mansion is still pretty intimidating. Nancy greets Jess warmly and he puts on his most charming smile for her, but it only garners a sniff of disdain. She can probably smell that his clothes are from Walmart and Goodwill, but there’s not anything to be done about that. Besides, he’s used to be looked down on for being poor. Even in those brief periods when Dad was working, hell when all three of them were working, he’s pretty sure they never made it over the poverty line.

Jeff smiles at him like a shark scenting blood in the water and shakes his hand with a crushing grip that Sam refuses to return no matter how badly he wants to. By the time they sit down for dinner, Jess is already irritated and snapping at her parents, who are ignoring it and talking around it with an ease that almost reminds him of Dad.

Jess is an inch shy of six of feet, so her mother being of similar height and her father being several inches above that doesn’t surprise him, although he notes with some vague smugness that Jeff is still a couple inches shorter than him. Jess is athletic, playing several sports and in high school and able to keep up with him on his morning runs when she can pull herself out of bed early enough to join him, and it seems that’s something else she got from her parents.  

“So, Sam,” Jeff says. Jess pauses with a spoon halfway to her mouth to glare. “Do you have any hobbies?”

Sam blinks, because he’d been expecting questions about his family or his degree, not his extracurriculars. “Well, I work at a coffee shop near campus, and tutor on the side, so outside of that and classes and studying I don’t have much time. But I like to read.”

“Read,” he repeats like Sam just cursed at him. “I don’t suppose you speak any foreign languages?”

He almost laughs, but manages to keep a straight face. “Some Spanish and a decent amount of French.” And Latin, Ancient Latin, Ancient Greek, a decent amount of modern Greek, and varying amounts in a smattering other languages long dead and some Japanese curse words he’s picked up from Bobby. But he knows better than to say that.

Jeff’s mouth twists down at the corners. “I see. Have you done any hunting, Sam?”

Wow. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking into tears or laughter. Has he done any hunting? What a question.

He’s about to say he has, because he really has hunted plenty of non-supernatural game, when Jess’s spoon falls to her plate with a clatter, her glare in place. “Dad! Stop it!”

“What?” he says mildly. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You said you were serious about this boy and we’re treating him seriously,” Nancy says, giving her daughter a hard look over her glass of wine. “This is what you wanted.”

“This isn’t what I wanted, I wanted to have a normal dinner with my boyfriend, not,” she cuts herself off, scowling. “That’s it. Sam, come on, we’re leaving.”

“Sweetheart,” Nancy says, while Jeff frowns, “Now there’s no need to be dramatic,” and something clicks into place.

No. No way.

If Dean were here, he’d laugh himself sick.

“My brother and I took down a wendigo last summer,” he says, because if he’s wrong he can pass it off as a joke, but if he’s not then –

Everyone falls silent and their focus is instantly on him, almost burning in intensity. Well. That answers that.

“Sam?” Jess says uncertainly.

On one hand, so much for getting away from the hunting life, on the other, he’s so relieved he’s almost giddy with it. The guilt for not being completely honest with Jess has been sitting heavy in the bottom of his stomach, going back and forth on whether telling her the truth was the right thing to do or if it would just make her think he was crazy and dangerous, and now that pull-push is gone.

She’s like him.

“We thought it was werewolves and found out the hard way we were wrong,” he says. “Luckily we’d packed a lot of lighter fluid.”

Nancy almost looks impressed and this time the smile on Jeff’s face looks real. “Jessica, why didn’t you tell us you’d found a nice, proper boy to bring home for once?”

She looks at him, equally shocked, and then her face slowly morphs into the same relief he’s sure is on his own. She puts a hand on his thigh and squeezes. “We went to school to get away from hunting, Dad,” she answers, easily filling in the blanks about his life based on what he’s told her. He puts his hand over hers.

“A distraction,” Nancy says with disapproval but then some of that dissipates. “Well, graduation will come, and then you can focus on things that matter.”

“Mom,” she says, frustrated, but then drops it with a sigh. “We’ll deal with it then.”

“In the meantime,” Jeff says. “We have a rash of hauntings we were going to pass off to someone else, but since you’re not one of those useless college boys, we can head out tomorrow.”

Jess groans.

“You have to keep your skills sharp, dear,” Nancy says. “There’s no reason to get complacent. Sam, do you have summer plans? Jess always complains about our summer trainings, but if you’re there–”

“If that’s what she wants,” he says. Jess’s parents have a house and a family and stability and if they’re hunters too that’s – well, he’d wanted out of the hunting life, but it doesn’t seem so bad like this. Not if Jess is with him too.

“Not the whole summer,” Jess says, grinning at him so wide her eyes are crinkling in the corners. “I want a normal camping trip where we don’t have to kill anything too.”

“A waste of a camping trip,” Jeff says and at the same time Nancy sighs, “If you insist, dear.”

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Breaking Dean Out of Jail

Pairing: Dean x reader

_____________

Thankfully Dean was a pretty good actor when he needed to be. It was part of his natural charm, talking to anyone and everyone, playing whatever part he needed to survive. Or to get some. But today all he had to do was shut up and looked pissed.

It wasn’t all that hard since you were certain he was mad with you. Dean had gotten caught on a B&E, was in custody and currently in lockup at the local station.

Great thing you had a fake FBI badge and a knack for creating fake documents.

“He’s wanted for a whole slew of offenses, murder at the top of the list,” you said, Dean scowling as he sat on the bench in his cell, hands cuffed behind his back. The chief had already asked if you could handle him by yourself to which you gave him a look that said you were more dangerous than you seemed.

Once you were out and Dean was being led down the hall, he did his part of struggling a little, bumping his shoulder into you so you hit the wall. 

“Do you want assaulting an officer on your record too?” you asked, shoving him back in place. Sam texted you as you popped Dean in your backseat.

Demon taken care of. Got D? -S

Yeah. He’d rather it be you risking your neck to show your face in here though. -Y/N

Me too. But you always were the best fake cop of all of us. -S

“Let us know if you change your mind about the backup,” said the officer as you climbed in the front seat. You thanked him and drove off, in a stolen car no less, Dean staying quiet until you were on the main road.

“Sam should have-”

“Behave or I won’t give you the key to those cuffs,” you said. Seconds later you heard Dean laughing as he asked you to pull over. You did as asked and soon he was in the passenger seat, hands free. “How did you...all your lock picks and stuff are in that baggie.”

“Someone might have had a bobby pin in their hair that I stole when I bumped into her,” said Dean. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Only my ego,” you said, reaching your head up to the back of your head to find the pin missing. You started driving again and you felt Dean’s hands in your hair put it back in place.

“So officer, what should I do to make it up to you for busting me out?” he asked, your lips curling up in a smile. “I’ve got plenty of ideas.”

“Oh, really?” you asked. “I’m sure you do.”

“It might take me a while to show my gratitude, all night in fact,” said Dean, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Next time it’s Sam though.”

“You’re going to show Sam gratitude all night long?” you teased, Dean holding up the handcuffs.

“Behave,” he said, a dark smile on his face.

“Make me,” you said, listening to Dean play with the metal, snapping it back and forth.

“Oh, I most certainly will. Count on it.”

___________

[lunajay33]

The Lion & Lamb Part.2

•💸🍻🪦•

Summary: You’re a shy girl that’s lived in Charming your whole life, when you’re having a fight with an abusive relationship the biker gang shows up and helps, but a certain guy with danger written all over him catches your eye

Pairing: Happy Lowman x f!reader

Warning: Typical violence, eventual smut, slow burn

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a few days since Happy stopped by my place, it was a different situation for sure, he was very straight forward but also very confusing, he was quiet and stared deep when he looked at me and I could never read his emotions but he never made me feel uncomfortable

As a thank you for everything he’s been doing for me even though he really didn’t have to, I made a huge batch of brownies for him and all the guys in the crew, thinking it would be rude not to make enough for everyone, I don’t really know what bikers like but everyone loves brownies, so I whip up a batch and place them in a large container, I make an effort to look nice, a red Jean skirt, white top accentuating the right parts and a pair of black cowgirl boots

Doing my hair and nice simple makeup, breathing deep to build my courage, I take one last look in the mirror take the container of brownies and head to the garage

As I pull into the lot my heart is beating like a humming bird, I get out and start to head to the office when I hear guys coming out of the club, I stand there like a deer in head lights not knowing what to do but then I see Happy come out, the guys checking me out until he stalks over pushing past the others till he’s standing right infront of me, blank expression

“You okay?” His voice deep and I nod my hands sweaty

“Oh yeah just umm, wanted to come by and bring you and the guys these as a thank you, you really didn’t need to help me but you did soooo here” I hand over the large container of brownies noticing the guys over by the club table watching us making a blush creep up my face

“Okay well i should go” he looks back over his shoulder to the guys and they all look away smirking before he looks back at me

“Stay” he looks down at me and I catch a glimpse of something behind his eyes

“Are you sure I don’t wanna intrude” and again he gives me the look I can tell I’m staying whether I say no or not

He turns walking back to the guys and I follow like I’m a lamb walking into a den of lions, I stay close to Happy as we stand infront of the picnic table where a few are sat, Jax, Chibs, Bobby and Tigs

Happy ours the container down on the table opening it for them, he takes one looking at it hesitant like I’ve poisoned it before he takes a big bite

“What’s the catch?” Bobby asks as the rest of the guys are knuckle deep devouring them

“Just a thank you, it’s the least it could do” he shrugs his shoulders and takes one as well, moaning like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and when I see happy go for another a sense of pride washes over me

“What’s a wee little thing like ye hanging with this psycho?” Chibs asks his accent thick

“Psycho?” I look back at Happy and he stares me down

“Shit man if you want a bit of pussy that ain’t no way to get it” Tigs says and I can see the anger build in happy

“Don’t talk about her like that ass hole” the way his voice got deeper made my knees weak but I tried to compose my self when I look back at the guys they’re smirking at me obviously noticing how I felt for their “psycho” friend

“Aye lassy Gemma’s having a dinner tonight why don’t ye come”

“Oh no I couldn’t do that” my face flushes once again

“You’re coming” shit he sure liked to be bossy

“Umm alright, should I bring anything?”

“No gemmas got everything covered it’s like her favorite thing” Jax said matter of fact

“Let’s go” happy took my wrist and led me back to my car standing next to the door he opens it and I get in as he leans through the window

“I’ll pick you up at 6, wear that skirt” then he was gone he always left me with a whirl wind in my head but I always wanted more

•

The time was 5:55, I kept the same outfit on but threw on a jacket to keep warm, doing the re touches to my makeup when there’s a knock on my door, my heart skips a beat, I brush down my clothes and head to the door, he’s stood there same plain look but his eyes take over my body as I grab my purse

“Are you sure I can’t bring anything?”

“No you’re a guest, you’re stubborn girl” his voice seemed light this time, not as gruff and serious

“I’m not stubborn I just like to be a good guest” I laugh as I step out looking the door, when we turn to go to his bike we stop seeing Michael, instinctively I grab Happys wrist completely petrified

“What a whore, couldn’t wait two seconds before you fuck another guy” happy clenched his fist stalking right to him throwing a punch knocking Michael to the ground with no hesitation, he beats him to a pulp over and over until Michael’s nothing but a bloody blubbering mess

“You never come here again, never look for her or next time you’ll be begging me to kill you” the anger and threat should’ve sent a chill through my body, I should be scared but I’m not I feel….safe, like happy would kill anyone’s that hurts be and that’s all a girl wants right?

“Come on” happy takes my hand gently and leads me to his bike, strapping a helmet on me before we’re speeding down the road leaving Michael groaning on the side walk, having my arms around his side and warmth coming from him made everything feel like I just might be alright

•

We pull up the the house and get off, I fix my hair and notice he’s looking down at me

“I gotta say I’m a bit nervous”

“I can tell” he says as his fingers traces down my scar on my cheek, the moment was silent just me and him in our own bubble, then the door to the house bursts open and Gemma gives that mother look

“Well well didn’t except to see you back around” she smirks hand on her hip

“Oh I’m sorry the guys invited me I hope that’s okay”

“If happy trusts you enough to invite you, then you must be a saint, come on in sweetheart”

The dinner party was nice, food, drinks and I got to get to know everyone, sitting on the couch Chibs comes to sit next to me

“I have to ask again, what’re ye doing hanging with Hap? Ye seem like the type of girl for half sack” he point to the skinny guy talking to Jax, seemed a bit nerdy

“I just…..he makes me feel safe and I haven’t had that in a really long time”

“Safe? Are we talking about the same happy here?” He laughs utterly bewildered and I just stare confused I look to my left noticing Happy watching us from across the room and I just shrug my shoulders

“I’m serious”

“Well lassy good luck” he pats my knee before leaving to get a refill Happy coming and taking his spot

“Nosy isn’t he” he says staring ahead like we were in a serious meeting

“He was just being nice, he thought I’d be the perfect match for halfsack” he looks at me serious, face scrunching

“He’s a child, you need a man”

“Oh do I? Know anyone up for the challenge” his eyes widen for a split second at my random burst of confidence before going back to normal

“How about Bobby sure you’d love him” he says pointing over the the man who was definitely not my type and he knew that, looking back at him I see him smirking, his eyes bright with mischief

“Did you just make a joke? I guess there is more to you after all” I smile moving a bit closer

“You have no idea girl”

•

Part.3

Any suggestions for this story?

Taglist: @youngadult9016 @staley83 @caplanreblogsfics @kellynickelsgirl00 @heavy-metal-zombie

[samcrosfaith]

LITTLE MUNCHKIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc (Bobby's daughter)

summary; Nola finally gives birth to their baby and Happy realizes immediately that it doesn't matter that he isn't the biological father (Nola's abusive ex is). This is a chapter from one of my fanfics on Wattpad called DAYLIGHT in case you wanna check it out. Or maybe I'll even post it here if enough people would be interested! 🤎

warning; this is pure fluff and super soft Happy. 🥰

HAPPY CURSED UNDER HIS BREATH as the cars rushed past him while he stood on the side of the road. After feeling his phone vibrate, he immediately pulled over to call Bobby back, who then told him that the baby was hereᅳ and he was still two hours away from Charming.

He hadn't taken a single break in between, the eight hours on his bike were clearly wearing on his nerves, never knowing if he would make it in time. Even he knew that a birth can take anywhere from twenty minutes to over a day.

Part of him was glad that Nola didn't have to wait for him in pain any longer, but his guilty conscience was gnawing at him. He should've stayed in Charming, like his gut had told him. But Jax needed him, it wasn't like he had a choice.

With a frustrated grunt, he put his phone back in his pocket, slipped his sunglasses back on and mounted his bike to finally head to Charming. There was nothing he could do, all he could do was drive faster and try to avoid the traffic as best he could so he could finally see Nola and the baby.

Knowing that both of them were okay at least eased his worries a little and allowed him to breathe again, his muscles slowly relaxing on the road.

Still, he would've wanted to be there to see their little girl being born, to hear her first cry.

ᅳ

AFTER ONLY AN HOUR Happy was crossing the halls of St. Thomas, every step fast and heavy.  Nurses and other visitors silently got out of his way when they saw the grim expression on his face, although that was just Happy's faceᅳ probably his Kutte played a role too.

When he finally got from the white, depressing hallways to the more colorful one, which meant he was on the right ward, he finally felt some calm wash over him, a sense of relief. And yet he was nervous, nervous about what it would be like to finally see the little girl he and Nola had been waiting for.

How would he feel? Would he feel anything at all? For the first time, Happy felt anxious; afraid that he wouldn't be able to accept and love the little one like he had promised Nolaᅳ it was still Alden's child, as much as he hated to even think about it.

But he didn't have much time to sink further into the spiral of thoughts as Bobby slipped out of one of the rooms and ran a hand over his face and then down his beard. He looked exhausted, but also proud.

"How is she?", was Happy's first question, no hello, nothing, the worry and guilt chiseled into his hard features. "She's pissed? Or can I go in there without getting yelled at"

Bobby chuckled wearily, slapping Happy's shoulder. "No, not at all. She wanted you there, but she doesn't blame youᅳ Nola knew from the beginning that the club always comes first."

"Still, she shouldn't even think like that", the SAA grunted, annoyed with himself. Yes, the club came first, but his priorities had changed and he wanted Nola to know that. "Can I see them?"

"Sure. Nola just fell asleep, the little one's awake but quiet", Bobby told him, bracing his hands against his hips. "I was just going to get a bag for Nola, maybe not a bad idea if someone's there just in case the baby needs something."

"Okay, do that", Happy nodded, his hand already resting on the door handle as he turned back to Bobby one more time. "She look a lot like him?"

Bobby shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Dark hair, yes. Otherwise she looks like Nola, as if she had stolen her mother's face."

Now it was Happy whose lips formed into a faint smile. "That's good."

And with that, he pushed the handle down and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. As quietly as he could, he crossed the room until he stood next to the bed. With the smallest smile, he looked down at Nola, visibly proud of his Old Lady who looked absolutely beautiful and stunning despite having just pushed out a child.

He timidly brushed back a few blonde strands that had come loose from her low ponytail and bent down to kiss her hair, inhaling her scent before finally taking a look at the small cot on the other side of the bed, catching his first glimpse of the baby.

His pulse was racing with excitement and anticipation as he walked around the bed and rested both his hands on the top railing of the cot. His lungs hitched and he had to swallow hard when he saw the little bundle, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, the baby noises filling his chest with love and pride.

He had never felt so much pride as he did in that moment.

"Hey Munchkin", he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "Nice to finally see you."

As the baby looked up at him with curious eyes, opening and closing her tiny fists, a yawn slipped past her lips before she began to fuss, probably just because she wanted to be held.

And that was exactly what Happy did. With care, as if she were made of porcelain, he slid one of his large hands under her tiny head full of dark hair, the other under her back and then scooped her into his arm. Rocking her gently and never once taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the chair that stood against the wall and sighed contentedly.

No one would be able to wipe that proud smile off his face as he looked down at her and rubbed the side of his index finger across her tiny cheek, listening to the soft sounds the girl made as a tiny hand reached for his hand, her grip on his finger tighter than he expected.

Happy swallowed hard, tears of pride burning in his eyes as a storm of emotions brewed inside him. Most of them were positive, mostly pride, unconditional love and joy. But also fear and anger, anger at the man who was lucky enough to be her father.

But the longer Happy looked at the bundle, he knew that the little girl in his arms belonged to him, that it didn't matter who her biological father was. She was his, his little girl that he would, just like her mother, protect with his life.

"What's your name anyway, huh?" Then Happy realized that he had completely forgotten to ask Bobby about the baby's name.

Excitement rushed through his chest as he spotted the pink plastic wrist band around the girl's wrist and scanned it for the name. A big lump formed in his throat as he read the name Nola had chosen for the girlᅳ the name he had suggested two weeks ago when they were sitting in bed eating pizza while brainstorming a name for the little one.

Ruby Elle Munson.

Ruby had been the name that he had come up with, the first one that popped into his mind that he had really liked. And Elle was Nola's mom's name. They both sounded great together in his opinion but it was the fact that Nola chose the name Ruby that really did something to him, coating his eyes again with a layer of unshed tears. Which of course he immediately wiped away with the back of his hand before they could fall.

"So Ruby, huh?", he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Fits you perfectly, Munchkin."

Happy chuckled at the soft hiccup sounds he got in response, running his large hand over her tiny head, still fascinated by how much hair such a small creature could have.

"You're hungry? But we'll have to wait until your mom wakes up, I think", he croaked down at Ruby, not sure if Nola had chosen to bottle- or breastfed.

"You can feed her if you want, I chose to bottle feed her after the nurse said I didn't have enough milk", Nola explained, her voice still tinged with sleep as she slowly sat up, the happiest smile on her still slightly exhausted looking, pale face. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Happy's head shot up, the man had been too distracted to notice that Nola had woken up. Slowly he stood up, closing the little distance to the bed before settling down on the mattress.

"She's perfect, more than perfect." He placed a hand against Nola's cheek, literally staring at her sincerely after pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, babyᅳ you know I would've loved to be there."

"Hey, it's okay", she reassured him with a coo, sliding a little closer to him with a soft groan, which immediately made Happy look up with concern in his dark eyes. "I'm fine, don't worryᅳ just still a little sore", she assured him with a soft hum. "Thanks for coming right away, baby."

"Our daughter was just born, of course I was coming right away, Nola", the SAA grunted deadpanned, slipping his arm behind her back to pull her into his side. "I want you to know that you and Ruby come first, you hear me?"

"Our daughterᅳI like the sound of that", the blonde hummed happily, looking up at Happy with her bright blue eyes, his words meaning more to her than he could ever imagine. "But what about the club? I know how importantᅳ"

Happy quickly cut her off with a kiss he stole from her lips. "I love my club, and yes, I'm always available if they need meᅳ but you and Ruby come first, my priorities have changed, little girl."

As it should be. That didn't mean he wouldn't be there for his club anymore, he would always be there when they needed him. That's what he had signed up for when he joined decades agoᅳ but he had his own little family now and he knew everyone would understand. Not to sound rude, but he didn't want to be like Jax who only saw his sons a few times a week for a few hours because he couldn't find the time otherwise, or like the others who spent their time at the club instead of at home.

He would be there for his Old Lady and their child, not wanting to miss anything Ruby would learn even if that would still take a while. Also, Nola wasn't his maid, he'd make sure to help her around the house enough so she would have the time to just sit down, relax and cuddle with their baby.

"I love you, Lowman", Nola whispered sincerely, biting back a small sob, feelings and hormones still all over the place. "I hope you know thatᅳ and I appreciate everything you do for us."

Happy grunted with a slight nod, placing another kiss on the top of Nola's head as her arm slipped around his waist while she ran her free hand over Ruby's head. "I love you too, little girl, both of you."

"I can tell that she already feels comfortable with you." With a smile, Nola lifted her gaze, kissing the corner of Happy's mouth. "She's completely relaxed in your arms, no fussing and nothing. I know we said we'd see how things would go", Nola paused briefly, nervously chewing on her lower lip. "But in my eyes, you are already her dad, Hap. She belongs to you as much as she does to me."

Nola would probably never know how much her words really meant to Happy. For a moment he was even too emotionally moved to just stare at her and swallow hard instead of answering.

After a long moment of silence, he squeezed her arm, his gaze wandering from her to Ruby. "I know she's mine, it just feels right."

"So..does that mean that you'd like to take on the role of her dad right away?" Nola lovingly nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling proudly. "She's going to be a daddy's girl, I just know it."

Happy chuckled, nodding his head slightly. "I hope so, she's already got me wrapped around her little finger."

"Mhm..me too, apparently that's already her first talent", Nola replied with a broad grin before she snuggled back into his side and exhaled contentedly.

And Happy enjoyed the moment to the fullest, both of his girls in his arms. That's what it felt to be rich. No amount of money in the world could replace this.

[curly-fry-3]

i have a request. I don't know if they are still open but here we go. Dean x reader, where reader is possessed and tries to kill the brothers, but they exorcise her. She has weak health so when the demon is out, she gets ill. Fluff after that. Love your writing!

𖦹Possessed𖦹

summary𖦹 You get possessed and Dean takes care of you

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Reader

word count𖦹 1,190

notes𖦹 I hope you like this. this is my first time writing a fight scene so it might not be spectacular. also just fyi, learned this the hard way, writing someone who's possessed it HARD

also I didn't fully proofread it, I kinda skimmed it (sorry its like midnight and I have school tomorrow lol)

Holy shit. This is probably the worst you've ever felt. Being trapped in your mind with no control over your actions, demons suck. Of course you would be targeted, being close with the Winchesters always got you in trouble–damn Dean and his charming smile that lured you in. You and Dean had been together for almost a year, you two had met through Bobby when he needed help translating some ancient spell. Of course Dean hit on you like there was no tomorrow and of course you fell for him and you've been going strong ever since. You help Dean and Sam with researching and questioning people for information. Dean would die before he let you actually fight, especially because you already got sick so easily, he didn't want more strain on your body. That's how the demon had found you.

You were walking back to the motel after questioning the victim's husband. It was dark out and you had this creepy feeling, like someone was watching you. You had quicked your steps, hoping to get back to the motel–and Dean–before something could jump out at you. Unluckily for you, you were being watched by a demon, and you would never be able to outrun it. When the black smoke entered you and you were no longer in control, your body continued to head to the motel–to Dean and Sam. You tried to take control of your body, you have no idea what you would do to them but you know it wouldn't be good, but you weren't strong enough.

Soon you made it to the motel and walked through the door, strolling in like nothing was wrong. Sam was sitting at the small table near the door on his laptop and dean was laying in your shared bed reading up on some lore. When you enter Dean looks up and smiles at you in greeting “hey babe, any leads”

“Oh no nothing” the demon said, taking of your suit jacket and shoes and sitting on the bed next to dean

Dean looks at you confused “sweetheart, is something wrong”

“What, no, why” the demon responds, pretending to be just as confused

His face hardens as he gets up from the bed and stands against the nightstand, reaching for the demon blade in the top drawer behind his back. “You're not her”

Sam is listening in on the conversation and immediately goes into battle mode when he hears Dean's tone. He stands up as well and reaches for his gun on the table next to him, silently sizing you up.

When the demon realizes it's been found it drops the innocent act and you stand up facing the boys, getting ready to fight them. “Oh you're very observant, Dean, you know I thought I had about an hour till you figured me out…guess I'm not that great of an actress.” The demon says, with a sinister smile on your face. “Oh well, i'll still get to kill you two” You look over to sam. “Don't try and pull a fast one, I know you don't wanna hurt this little meatsuit.” You turn back to dean “especially you ... .you know, her first thought when I took over for her was that she didn't wanna hurt you…so sweet it makes me sick. You two are just gross.”

Dean look at you with a warning gaze “don't you dare hurt her, you son of a bitch”

The demon chuckles “oh, baby, you're gonna be the one doing all the damage” 

A look of realization flashes over Dean's face and he drops the demon blade in his hand–he would never hurt you. You pull out the knife from your belt and lunge at him. He dodges your attack, tripping you, and you end up on the floor, Your knife across the room, with him standing over you, Sam in his duffle bag getting holy water. From your position on the motel carpet you quickly kick upwards, hitting Dean in the balls. While you're getting up, Sam comes over and you punch the back of his knee, making him bend forward–losing his balance. Before you can get far, Dean has recovered from his hit and grabs you and pins you down. “Sam now!”

Sam splashes you with holy water and begins exorcizing you. If you thought being possessed sucked, being exorcized was ten times worse. By the time it was done you were so weak you couldn't home yourself up. Thankfully Dean was holding you. “Shit, baby I got you”

You look up at him weakly with tears in your eyes “I'm so sorry. I tried to take control, I really tried.”

Dean gently lays you down on the bed, giving Sam a look saying that he needs some alone time with you. He brings his attention back to you as Sam heads outside and you continue to apologize. “Sweetheart, it's not your fault” he starts taking care of you, changing you out of your FBI uniform and into your pajamas. “Don't, even for a second, think that it's your fault” He pauses after you're dressed and wipes the tears from your eyes as you're propped up on the pillows. “Are you comfortable baby? I know that was a lot for you.”

“I'm so tired, my body aches” You complain looking up at him with red rimmed eyes “I didn't wanna hurt you”

He looks at you with a reassuring smile “trust me, you didn't”

“But i kicked you in the balls” you say concerned

He grimaces at the memory,“And I handled it” Dean sits on the bd next to you and rubs your calf comfortingly, “do you need anything”

“I just want you to hold me” you answer, pulling him down into your embrace

He immediately reciprocates your hug, wrapping you in his warm comforting arms, You let out a deep breath of air in relief, your achy muscles already feeling better. When Dean gets situated next to you melt into his arms and rest your head on his chest. “Better?” He asks

“Way better” you confirm. “You always make everything better”

He softly smiles at your statement and kisses the top of your head. He rubs your back in soothing, comforting motions. “I try”

You look up at him guiltily, “I should be the one comforting you, I tried to kill you”

He shakes his head in disagreement, “that wasn't you. And besides, you're way too weak to do any comforting. That demon did more damage to you than me.”

“I still feel bad” you look away, sheepishly

Dean playfully rolls his eyes and his hand stops its movement on your back. “Dont…I love you ok…I just wanna make sure your ok”

You look back to him “I love you too”

Not needing to say anything else, you curl back up into him and his hand resumes it's comforting pattern. Sure, being close with the Winchesters made you a target to monsters across America, but Dean was always there to protect and comfort you.

You kiss Dean's chest then mutter into his shirt, “I really need to get that anti possession tattoo.”

sorry if there are any typos

love y'all

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey can I request a kind of enemies to lovers smut with Eddie Diaz x reader, they’re work colleagues and don’t get along but there’s so much tension between them and one day they’re arguing after a team night out and he shuts her up by kissing her or something?! Go crazy with the smut whatever gets flowing with your ideas and creativity! 🙏

Eddie Diaz x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

From the moment that you met Eddie Diaz, you had hated him. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, but you definitely didn't like him. You thought he was too confident, too sure of himself. You normally liked that in a man, but with him, he just came off arrogant and full of himself.

And the feeling was very much mutual since Eddie didn't like you either. He didn't like how you always felt the need to comment on everything, especially when it came to what he was doing. You always wanted to correct him and tell him how you would do it and it drove him absolutely crazy.

What he never would have admitted, though, was that he loved grinding your gears. He loved the way you'd get that crease between your eyebrows and the way your nose would scrunch up when he'd say something you didn't like. It was adorable. And the way you weren't afraid to tell him off when he did something you didn't like. It was almost...hot.

It got to the point where everyone dreaded doing shifts with the both of you because you both would be arguing instead of doing what you were supposed to do. It got to the point when you weren't allowed to work together anymore because it was disturbing the peace and making it hard for everyone else to do their jobs when the two of you were bickering, so Bobby took it upon himself to make sure that if one of you was working, the other wasn't. And it worked like a charm.

That was, until Bobby invited everyone over for a barbecue to thank you all for working so hard that week. It had been so busy with long hours and he wanted to take care of all of you, and honestly, he just wanted to pat himself on the back for coming up with the idea of separating you and Eddie. The rest of the 118 could now do their jobs properly without your bickering as background noise. 

You knocked on Bobby’s front door then smoothed out the dress you were wearing. You had been looking for an excuse to wear it and now was your chance. It was red and short and you were sure that it was going to make Eddie lose his goddamn mind. At this point, you just liked to mess with him, the idea of him getting a hardon in front of everyone making you laugh. 

The door opened and Bobby was on the other side, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He pulled you into a tight hug as if he hadn’t seen you the day before. He then pulled away and eyed your dress, realizing that he had never seen you out of your uniform. 

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” he smiled and you mimicked it, patting his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Bobby,” you thanked him with another pat. You then passed him to descend the stairs. And that was the exact moment that you had caught Eddie’s eyes. He swore that there was a spotlight shining down on you as you went down the steps. You looked ethereal, almost like a fairy. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching you move around the room, greeting the other members of the 118 with hugs, suddenly feeling jealous because he knew he wasn’t going to get one. He supposed that was what he deserved for all of the rude things he had said to you over the past few months. 

You got to Buck and pulled him in for his own and Eddie never wanted to kill Buck, but in that moment, he did. Especially when your hand rubbed up and down his back. His heart was pounding in his chest and he hated the effect you had on him just by wearing a pretty dress. He shook his head as he thought about what it would have looked like on the floor of his bedroom as you shed it, showing him your very naked body. God, he needed to get laid, and soon. 

You pulled away from Buck and held your arms out for Eddie, deciding to play nice for the night. And you kind of wanted to know what it would have felt like to have him wrapped up in your arms, feeling his strong ones wrapping around your waist. 

Eddie slowly shuffled forward, awkwardly wrapping his arms around your waist as yours went to his neck. It felt right being there and you suddenly didn’t want to pull away, feeling tempted to bury your face into his neck. 

He could smell your perfume as it hit nose and it was absolutely intoxicating, a mixture of lavender and vanilla. He would have been entirely satisfied with staying there the entire night just breathing in your scent, his nose right against your neck.

You brought your lips to his ear and your hot breath sent a tingle up his spine. God, you were so fucking hot. 

“You better be on your best behavior tonight,” you warned. “Bobby is doing a very nice thing for us and I’m not going to have you embarrass me in front of everyone. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Eddie nodded before clearing his throat, feeling his dick getting a little hard, if you felt it too, you didn’t say anything. You just pulled away before turning to head to Athena who was finishing things up in the kitchen. 

As soon as you were out of earshot, Buck nudged Eddie in the shoulder before turning to face him. Buck was very aware of your attraction to each other and was hoping that this was night the two of you would finally realize it for yourselves. He had already hatched a plan in his head, fully prepared to have Christopher sleep over if things escalated. And if everything went to plan, they would. 

“Why don’t we all make our way to the table?” Bobby spoke up. “There are place cards so once you find yours, that’s your seat.” 

You headed to it, following Bobby’s instruction. You rounded the table, so focused on looking for your place card that you ran into a hard chest, not even paying attention to your other surroundings. You pulled back and those damn honey eyes were looking into yours. 

A small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth and you found yourself almost wanting to kiss him. Almost. He pulled your chair out for you and you eyed him suspiciously before slowly sitting down. He then pushed the chair in for you and leaned down so that his lips were right by your ear. 

“Is this well behaved enough?” He asked before pulling away and sitting in his own chair, putting his napkin in his lap before involving himself in the conversation that the rest of the crew was already engaged in. 

You snuck a look at him, feeling your cheeks heat as you could still feel the ghost of his lips on your ear. You could imagine him taking the lobe between his teeth, giving it a little nibble after whispering the most filthy things to you. You didn’t know why, but you just knew he had a dirty mouth and you really hoped he’d put it to good use in more ways than one. 

“Y/n?” Ravi asked, nudging your shoulder. Your head snapped to him, his voice pulling you out of your nasty daydream. His eyebrows were pinched together in worry. 

“Yeah?” You asked, giving him your full attention even though you wanted nothing more than to stare at the man on the other side of you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. “You seem off tonight.”

“I’m fine, Ravi,” you assured him. “But thank you for worrying about me.”

“If you’re so fine then why are you staring at Eddie like you want to climb him like a tree?” He smirked knowingly. You had told Ravi that you thought Eddie was attractive one time and he had been teasing you about it for months now. 

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, starting to feel flustered. “I don’t want to climb him like a tree.”

“Then why does the entire 118 have a bet going to see when you two are finally going to get together? Why do you think you were assigned to sit next to each other?” 

Your eyes narrowed into a glare as you realized how right he was. He just smiled wider, giving you a knowing look before you turned your attention to Eddie who was passing you a bowl filled with green beans. 

You took it from him and felt your fingers brush his as you did so. You were damn near close to dropping it, but his grip tightened, slipping the thing from your hands and holding it in his own. He then scooped some of the beans out of the bowl and hovered the spoon over your plate. 

“How much?” He asked as he put what was in the spoon onto your plate.

“That’s good,” you replied and Eddie reached over you to hand the bowl to Ravi. “Thank you.” 

“Any time,” he winked, plucking a green bean from your plate and popping it into his mouth. Buck eyed the two of you, also giving you a wink when you made eye contact with him. You were grateful that he was across from you so it was easy for you to reach out and kick him in the shin. He glared at you and you gave him a satisfying smile before turning back to Bobby who was speaking. 

The entire dinner, you couldn’t help but feel the tension rising between you and Eddie, to the point where it could no longer be denied. And everyone could tell, it all being so palpable. 

Now it seemed like everyone owed Buck twenty dollars. Easy money. He was so excited to collect his money, loving that he knew his best friend so well. It was so obvious to him that Eddie was in love with you and now he was just waiting for the man to admit it. 

“Eddie, y/n, you’re on dish duty.” For once, neither of you argued, deciding that it was best for you to just do what you were asked. Unbeknownst to both of you, Bobby had been secretly rooting for you, knowing that absence would make your hearts grow fonder of each other. And clearly it had worked like a charm. Just one more shove and you would end up together. 

You followed Eddie to the kitchen, purposefully bumping his shoulder as you passed him. You were just stooping to his level even though it was beneath you. Maybe that was where you wanted him to be, though.

You could just imagine him, laying on your bed, his fingers forming bruises on your hips as you rode him, looking down at his blissed out face as he moaned your name, his back arching in pleasure as he reached his orgasm. 

You shook your head and got to the sink where a few dishes had piled up and began to wash a plate, stealing a glance at Eddie who was chatting with Athena. She was whispering something to him and you could see her glancing you out of the corner of your eye. 

As soon as she caught you looking, she made a beeline for you, resting her hand on her shoulder and whispering in your ear. 

“I am trusting you both to do the dishes together. Please don’t screw it up.” You knew she wasn’t really talking about the dishes and just nodded in response. She then patted your shoulder and fled the kitchen to do some more cleanup, leaving Eddie and you alone. 

You turned to him, listening to him whistle as he dried off a plate. He felt your eyes on him, but ignored it, knowing that if he looked your way for too long, he’d do something he definitely shouldn’t have. 

You took the plate from him to get him to pay attention to you. You both needed to strategize how to get out of what very weird set up they had for the both of you. And in order to do that, you needed to set aside your differences and act civil. 

“Listen,” you started. “It’s clear that they’re trying to set us up and we need to find a way out of it.” Eddie wasn’t aware that you disliked him that much. Sure, you said as much, but he didn’t think it was true. He thought that maybe it was to hide your real feelings for him, but clearly that wasn’t the case. 

“Right,” he nodded, stepping closer to you, his lips right by the shell of your ear once again. “But what if I don’t want a way out of it?” He asked and you were so close to making a move right there. But you couldn’t. Not with everyone else there. 

“You don’t?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you let the dish you were holding fall back into the sink with a clatter. 

“Not at all. But clearly you don’t feel the same way, so I’m just going to make myself scarce before I embarrass myself any further.” Without another word, he tossed the towel onto the counter before heading to the front door. 

You froze, watching him getting further away from you, feeling like you had really fucked up. You had ruined your chance and now Eddie was never going to want to speak to you again. 

Before you could stop yourself, you hurried to the door, ripping it open and chasing Eddie who was unlocking his truck. His brown eyes widened as they locked on you, his mouth falling open. 

You got to him, feeling your breathing getting more labored as your heart pounded in your chest. This was your one chance and you weren’t going to fuck it up. Not this time. 

“Don’t go,” you rested your hand on top of his that was sitting on the door handle. 

“Why? Why do you want me to stay?” He knew exactly what was going through your head, but he wanted to hear you say it. 

“Because…” you paused, the words heavy on your tongue, weighing the muscle down, almost making it impossible for you to speak. “Because I love you, Eddie!” The words came out more angry than you had intended, but the man was just so frustrating. How could he not see it? The feelings that seemed so obvious, but he wouldn’t have known what they were if they had hit him upside the head.

“You what-“ He was in disbelief. He always had a hunch that you had feelings for him, but he never actually expected you to tell him as much. It was confusing, sure, but there was no way in hell that he was going to question it.

“I love you too,” he replied, breaking into a grin, the adorable one that you wished you could have seen more often. He then took you into his arms, not able to fight the wide smile on his face. He hadn’t been this happy in so long and was really looking forward to telling Hank about his weekend now. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” 

“Will you please just shut up and let me kiss you?” He asked with a chuckle then pressed his lips to yours, the movements slow and timid as you both tried to figure it out. 

Eddie’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist, his keys clattering to the ground as he lost his grip on them, but that hardly mattered. Your hands rested on his chest as you stepped closer to him, the two of you becoming toe to toe. He brought his hands up to your jaw, moving your head back so he had more access to your mouth. 

You both broke apart at the sound of something tapping on the window that made it possible to see into the living room. You turned to face it and everyone had crowded around it, all of them cheering at the fact that the two of you had finally kissed. 

You let out a loud laugh and Eddie didn’t think he could be more in love with you if he tried. You turned back to him and pressed another kiss to his lips, already already addicted to the feeling of his on yours. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked against your lips and all you could do was nod. You wanted nothing more than to go somewhere else with him. 

Eddie was the one who pulled away this time and he rounded the hood of his truck to open the door for you and help you inside it. Once you were all buckled, he went to his side and gathered his keys from the ground before getting inside the truck and starting it up before pulling out of the driveway. 

He knew exactly where he was going, wanting to take you somewhere special, not ready to take you home yet. The tension between the two of you was rising at a rapid rate and he was trying his best to not think about how hard his dick was, trying his best to not think about how pretty you’d sound as you moaned his name, begging him for more. 

He pulled the truck between some trees, the area so familiar to him as it was where he went when he needed a moment to catch his breath. He hadn’t shown it to anyone else, but knew that you would appreciate it. That you would like it as much as he did. And maybe you could have made it the place you both went together. 

He put the truck in park and turned to you, his eyes softening as he took you in. You were so beautiful that he couldn’t stand it. He had never been a fan of the color red, but he was beginning to think that now it was his favorite as he saw how well it complimented your skin. You looked like a vision, something that had walked right out of his dreams. You might as well have had wings since you looked like a goddamn angel. 

Eddie brought his hand up and rubbed his thumb along your cheek. You rested yours on top of it, giving it a squeeze. It was hard to believe that just a few hours of sitting next to each other could make your feelings for each other so much more real. It seemed that you just needed a little encouragement, a little push from your friends for you both to accept the truth: that you were absolutely head over heels for each other and that your dislike for each other was just frustration. 

He pressed a brief kiss to your lips and then pulled away, getting out of the truck, grabbing the blankets that had been sitting between you before helping you out and leading you to the bed. You helped him unfold the first blanket and laid it down onto the bed, to give the two of you something soft to lay on. 

He then pulled down the back and sat down on it before patting the spot to the left of him. You did as he instructed and sat next to him, your thighs touching because of your close proximity. He rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb as he leaned closer to you, capturing your lips with his, this kiss a little more rough than the last.

It was six months of shoved down feelings that you needed to make up for, but you both still wanted to take it slow. You wanted to savor it, this being your first time together and all. You wanted to take your time getting to know his body since you were fully intending for him to be your only partner for a while, maybe even forever if you were lucky. 

Eddie’s other hand slid up your thigh, slowly slipping up your dress, testing the waters to see where you would let him touch you. You hands grabbed onto his shirt, fisting it as you pulled him closer to you. You sighed into his mouth and he swore he was going to cream his pants right then and there. 

Your hands moved down to the hem of his shirt and slipped underneath it as your tongue dipped into his mouth, pushing the shirt up to signify that you wanted it off of him. He broke apart only briefly to remove the shirt and let it fall beside him onto the bed of the truck. His lips were quickly back on yours and his hands moved to your back, gently guiding you to lie down as he lifted up your leg to unbuckle your shoes. Once those were off, he leaned down, placing himself on top of you as he pressed his lips to yours. 

His hands moved around to your back and he unzipped your dress before helping you take it off while you undid your bra, Eddie pulling away to get a view at your now naked chest, letting out a whine as he did so. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss to the spot between your breasts, moving his way down to your thongs, looking up at you to ask for permission to remove them and you nodded, helping him do so. “You’re soaked,” he chuckled. “Have you been this way all night?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Now do something-fuck,” you cut yourself off, coming to a realization. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Don’t worry, I do.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed a packet onto the bed before unbuttoning his pants and pulling him down then removing his underwear as you opened the condom and rolled it onto his cock. Yout then laid back down onto the bed of the truck as Eddie lined himself up with your cunt, slowly pushing it inside you.

He slowly thrusted in and out of you as you grabbed onto him, a moan escaping your mouth. He grabbed onto your waist as his thrusts got faster, not able to hold back any longer. He wanted to fuck you absolutely senseless as he whispered the most filthy words into your ear, encouraging you as you took all of him like he knew that you could. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned. “Faster.” He did as you asked, pounding into you as fast as he could, eliciting more moans and whines from you. If he had known that this was what it was going to be like, he would have fucked you a long time ago. 

“Feel so good, honey,” he moaned. “Can’t believe we waited this long. And look at that, seems like you’re already close. You clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm building, already seeing stars. 

“Eddie,” you screamed, your hands moving to his back as you scratched down it, your back arching. Eddie wasn’t that far behind you, reaching his own climax as your name fell from his lips. But he kept going, his thrusts getting harder, fully intending to see how many times he could get you to completion just from one round. 

Your sounds were getting louder and more frequent and he was loving how he could get you where he wanted you by doing the bare minimum. He hadn’t even done anything special and was wondering if you liked to get freaky. 

He looked down at you, seeing you all sweaty and blissed out and took a mental image of you, wanting to tuck it away in his brain to save for when he wasn’t around you. You looked so hot underneath, letting him do whatever he wanted to you while you were so responsive, taking it just how he knew you would. 

“Fuck, Eddie. Holy shit,” you screamed and he kept going, wanting just one more from you, but willing to stop if you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Got one more in you, sweetheart?” He asked as he slowed down a bit and you nodded. He grabbed you by your face and forced you to look him in the eyes as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours as you did so. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you nodded, your breathing labored, your words becoming slurred. “Just one more.” Eddie picked up the pace, going the fastest and hardest he could for the finale. He managed to get all of himself inside of your like he knew you could and your nails dug into his back, knowing that you were going to be so sore in the morning. But looking up and seeing his hair sticking to his forehead and sweat rolling down his abs, you could tell that it would all be worth it. 

“Holy shit,” you howled, reaching your third and final orgasm for the night and Eddie helped you lay back down onto the bed and let you come down while he disposed of the condom and cleaned the both of you up. 

He then grabbed the second blanket and unfolded it before draping it over your bodies. He pulled you to his chest and you reached up, pushing his hair from his face, his brown Bambi eyes looking at you with more love that he knew what to do with. 

His hand moved up and down your hip as you stared at each other, both knowing that you were definitely going to pursue each other not just physically, but also romantically. Sure, it had taken you months to get there, but now you were there to stay, deciding that being wrapped up in each other’s arms was the only place you ever wanted to be for the rest of your lives.

[apollabarnes]

part thirteen

"buck? you coming?" athena stops at the tent entrance. "i'm headed straight to the hospital."

"um," evan glances back at him and tommy shrugs. he's not sure what evan wants, but tommy doesn't have somewhere to be. "i'll meet you there, athena. text me when you know what room bobby's in."

athena eyes tommy, pursing her lips. tommy shrugs again. he did sort of promise that if evan came back safe that they'd talk… and tommy only sort of got arrested. "if i don't hear back from either of you in an hour i will be putting out a bolo," she warns, pointing at them.

"that's going a little far, don't you think?" evan asks.

"nope. come on, donato."

"give her a break, she's worried about you," tommy says gently.

"yeah, i don't think it's me that she's worried about." evan flushes and speeds up, beelining for the passenger side of the helicopter.

tommy glances over at evan, still helplessly charmed by the hint of jealousy in his voice. he pulls himself into the pilot's seat, starting the engine. "of course it's you that she's worried about. who else would it be?"

"tommy." evan gestures at him impatiently, closing the door behind him. "it's the guy she has dinner with every week."

"oh," tommy blinks down at the cyclic, shaking his head as they take off. "i doubt it. we just—" he trails off, shrugging. athena is on bobby's side, which means she's on evan's side, and their thing is… different.

"is this bobby's?" evan asks, catching sight of the travel mug. "wait, did you buy that glitter monstrosity? i thought bobby grabbed one of may's by accident."

"it was so ugly, evan. and athena was…" he shrugs.

"did you buy it just to annoy her? i thought flying into a hurricane was the craziest thing you'd ever done."

"i just obstructed a federal investigation for you," tommy interrupts.

"deliberately annoying athena grant is crazier than both those things."

"she started it," tommy says grumpily. "she kept not taking this one back."

"so what happened, you just called her up one day and asked her out to dinner? and she accepted because she thinks you're so cool."

"no, we ran into each other one day and she asked me out to coffee," tommy rolls his eyes fondly, looking over at evan. "what's all this about me being cool, huh?"

"it's a long story and i might tell you about it later," evan glances out the window. "i should have made you take me up more often."

tommy hums. evan's not wrong. there are a lot of things that tommy should have done while they were dating. he turns the helicopter in a lazy arc, racing along the horizon. there's nothing better than seeing the city from up here. "do your worst."

evan thinks about it for a long moment. tommy wants to watch him. he keeps his eyes on the sky.

"how long?"

"four months after we broke up. give or take a week."

"where'd you run into each other?"

tommy considers the best way to answer that without betraying any confidences. "i was leaving an appointment. i'm not sure what athena was doing there before she saw me. she said hi first," he adds. evan would have asked that next, "i was going to duck out before she saw me."

"why?"

"evan, she's your… it's athena. i didn't think she would be interested in talking to me."

"but she was."

"apparently."

"wait," evan straightens up, his eyes wide. "this was before we saw each other again. did you tell athena—"

"did i tell athena that we hooked up?" tommy finishes wryly. "what do you think?"

evan relaxes infinitesimally, glancing over at tommy. "good, because… oh my god, you told her."

"i didn't say that."

"no, you said what do you think, which meant i was supposed to assume what i thought you did, and — are you blushing?"

"oh look, we're here," tommy interjects, bringing them down next to the hangar. "i have to return the keys, fill out some paperwork… if you want to call a ride, i understand."

"i'm texting athena to find out what you actually told her and i'll wait for you at your truck. i'm not done with you."

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six // part seven // part eight // part nine // part ten // part eleven // part twelve

[multifandomfangirl93]

The Possibility- Buddie x surrogate!reader [part 1]

Summary: Eddie didn’t think he would consider having more kids UNTIL he saw Buck holding Jee for the first time.

Warnings: none

Authors note: Had a long night and can’t bring myself to do my tag list. I hope you guys enjoy!

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Eddie didn’t think he could ever want to start over. Though he loves Chris and his nieces and nephews, Eddie doesn’t miss those sleepless nights or diaper changes. He definitely doesn’t want to go through this pre-teen stage with all the angst that comes with it.

Then, Eddie sees Buck holding Jee for the very first time. She looks even smaller cradled in her uncle’s muscular arms. Arms that lift full grown adults and 300 pound weights. Arms that have picked Eddie up and carried him when Eddie didn’t have the strength to carry himself. As a firefighter, Buck has to keep up his physique to keep up with the demands of the job, but not here. He’s soft and pliable. The strength of his muscles gently cradle his niece close to his chest as tears of joy fall down his face. Eddie has never seen Buck so soft; not even on their wedding day. Buck definitely cried as Bobby walked him down the isle to meet Eddie and give him away, but it wasn’t like this. Eddie would do anything to see Buck like this with a kid of their own.

The thought shocked him to his core. He and Buck haven’t even discussed having more kids. Not in a real conversation anyways. They’ve both teased when delivering babies or during rescues or outings when they came across babies, but they never mentioned it behind closed doors. Their lives revolved around three things: Chris, each other, and family. Always in that order. Though work isn’t included, their 118 family means more than most of their biological family anyways. Being on shift with them overlaps into that category

Buck is superstitious. Third times a charm. Three leaf clovers are always a good luck charm. Three is a balanced number that teeters toward positive growth. Their “three” is perfect to him. Eddie has heard Buck say it again and again in his ramblings that Eddie absolutely adores. Would Buck even consider it?

“Hey babe. You wanna hold your niece?” Buck asks Eddie, snapping him back to reality. Buck was smiling widely at him, gently holding the baby in his steady hands to skillful transfer her into Eddie’s hold.

Eddie hadn’t realize he was staring. Buck probably thought Eddie was impatiently waiting his turn. So, Eddie mentally shook off his thoughts and returned Buck’s smile as he gently reached for Jee. “You sure?” Eddie asked, not yet taking the baby from his partner completely as he shifted slightly to wipe the tears from Buck’s cheeks.

Buck laughed, gently handing her over. “Of course! Gotta get a picture for Chris!” Buck replied, quickly getting his phone out once Eddie had Jee tucked safely in his arms. Eddie smiled down at the sleeping newborn. Sometimes he forgets that Chris used to be this small. Buck snapped the picture with a coo. “This is officially my new wall paper. I’m an uncle!” Buck quietly cheered, dimples showing as his face split into a wider grin.

Maddie and Eddie laughed at their Buck. Always the biggest goof with the softest heart. Eddie grins widely, with tears in his own eyes, when Buck gently lowers himself into the hospital bed by his big sister. He makes sure not to pull out the Iv that is giving her fluids as he carefully tucks Maddie into his side. He fusses over the blankets covering her shivering form and kisses her head, muttering something to her that Eddie can’t hear. By the way Maddie wipes a few tears away and snuggles into her brother’s embrace, Eddie knows Buck said something cheesy and sentimental, but completely spot on that has Maddie relaxing comfortably in his arms.

Eddie is content just holding his little niece. He gently bounces and sways, walking over to look out the window as the sun starts to set. He quietly whispers to Jee in Spanish, sometimes singing along with whatever Buck is singing to sooth Maddie to sleep. Eddie knew that was Buck’s intention. They had finally convinced Chimney to go home and take a rest, but Maddie was a little anxious about being without him after giving birth a few hours prior. Though Eddie and Buck were there, and she loved and trusted them with her and her daughter’s life, she had wanted Chim. Now, as Eddie turns slightly to sit on a chair close to the window, Maddie is finally sleeping in Buck’s arms.

Buck looks relaxed. He is completely content with holding Maddie while also secretly filming Eddie with their niece. Buck puts his phone down gently when he meets Eddie’s gaze and smiles softly. “You ever think about having another?” Buck whispers, looking longingly at Eddie and Jee.

Eddie’s eyes grow wide, but the smile on his face reassures Buck that he isn’t put off or upset about the question. “What’s funny is that I was just wondering if you would be open to the idea.” Eddie answers back quietly, adjusting Jee on his chest as he leans back. “I bet we could adopt. The process isn’t easy from what I’ve heard from Hen, but I’d be willing to fight that battle with you.” Eddie says, smiling as he runs a hand over Jee’s back.

“Or we could look for a surrogate.” Buck says, leaning his head back and stealing some of Maddie’s covers as he speaks. “ I did give my sperm a few years back to a friend, remember? . If your okay with it, I’d like to do it again. Then we would have one of you and one of me.” Buck says, smiling fondly at the idea.

Eddie chuckles lowly. “Well, that does sound amazing. Though, another Buck might be too much for this world.” Eddie jokes, winking at Buck across the room.

Buck’s face grows warm with mock indignation. “Hey! The world could use another Evan Buckley-Diaz.” Buck whisper shouts, making sure not to wake Maddie.

Eddie just smiles. “Yeah. The world could use another ball of sunshine like you.” He whispers in a slightly more serious tone.

“Can we start looking immediately?” Buck asks without hesitation, throwing Eddie the best puppy dog eyes he can.

And Eddie caves, just like he always does when it comes to his Buck.

[tinyshyteacup]

TW: cussing, canon level racism, Juice is sad & protective

Part 28

A Charming Detour - Part 29

You were still breathless, voice catching as you tried to explain everything that had happened.

Your hands clung to the front of Juice’s kutte like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

Words spilled out in fast, breathy waves.

"They knew me, Juice. They knew who I was. They said things about you—about us. I didn’t know what to do. They grabbed me—and they said they had ties to the Aryan Brotherhood. I-I spit at them, and then I ran—"

"Baby, slow down," Juice said, but his own hands were still shaking.

He pulled you tighter against his chest, his fingers cradling the back of your head while he looked past you at Chibs, Tig, and Bobby, who where all watching the interaction alerted by your panic.

"They fucking grabbed her," Juice snarled, his voice shaking with barely controlled fury. "They touched her. They talked shit about me—about her—and they think they can just walk around breathing?" His voice shook—just a little.

Because hearing you say those words—that you were in the grip of those racist bastards, that they threatened you—

He didn’t think he could breathe right.

His heart was still hammering, his fingers gripping the back of your shirt like he was afraid you’d just disappear.

"Juice," you whispered against his chest.

"I—" His throat worked, his whole body wired with tension. "Baby, I swear to god, if they touched you—"

"They didn’t," you cut in softly, your hands still clutching at his kutte. "I promise. They just— they just scared me."

Juice pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. "Fuck, baby—" He exhaled, eyes scanning your face like he needed to memorize every inch, needed to confirm that you were really here, safe in his arms.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. Wasn’t hard.

It was a desperate, shaking thing, his lips soft but insistent, like he needed to ground himself with you, needed to feel you real and solid against him.

When he pulled back, his voice was rough. "I gotta—" He swallowed. "We gotta tell the guys."

He wasn't speaking to you anymore, just voicing his thoughts.

Your hands tightened on him, nerves creeping back into your expression. "What if they—"

Juice hated the worry in your eyes.

"Baby, they ain’t gonna touch you," his voice was firm, his forehead pressing against yours. "You hear me? You’re mine. nobody—and I mean fucking nobody— is gonna touch you."

His jaw clenched. "They’re gonna pay for this."

You shivered at the steel in his voice.

Juice wasn’t the one who handled this kind of shit. That was usually Tig. Or Happy.

But right now?

His body tensed. You could feel it in the way his muscles bunched under your touch, the way his hands curled into fists behind your back.

He wasn't just angry—he was raging.

"Bastards left a little love note." Chibs muttered grimly picking up the photo where it had fallen.

It was a picture of the two of you—sitting in a booth at a diner, probably taken weeks ago. You were laughing at something he’d said, leaning across the table with your tiny hand over his.

Across the image, scrawled in thick red marker, were two words that made even Tig fall dead silent.

“SPIC BANGER.”

As soon as his eyes fell on the photo again Juice’s entire body went still.

His jaw clenched.

His eyes—usually so warm, especially when they looked at you—turned cold.

Hollow.

"Juice," Tig warned gently, stepping closer. "C’mon, brother. I know that look."

"They had their hands on her," Juice said slowly, voice raw. "They knew where we were. They took pictures, Tig. They followed us. This isn't just club business anymore, this is personal."

You reached up, brushing your hand along his jaw, your thumb catching a tear that slipped down his cheek.

"Juice, please," you whispered, your voice cracking. "Just stay. I’m safe now. I just want you here. I don’t want revenge. I—I just want you— Just you Juan Carlos please."

He closed his eyes for a long second, and you felt the tremble in his frame.

"You shouldn’t have to deal with this. You shouldn’t even know about this kind of hate," he rasped, pulling you back into him. "You’re so soft, baby… You’re kind, and you’re stuck with me—with this shit."

"Juice," Bobby said from across the room, voice calm and steady, "your old lady just ran through the goddamn town scared outta her mind to get back to you. Don’t make her sit here alone while you go looking to bury bodies."

Chibs crossed his arms, nodding. "We’ll handle it smart. Not hot. That’s what Zobelle wants—for us tae slip. But we won’t. Not like this."

Tig added, "We know who they are. We know where they operate. When the time’s right, they’re done. But right now? She needs you."

Juice’s fists finally unclenched. He looked down at you, his expression crumpling into something softer.

Something broken and devoted.

"I’m sorry—baby," he said softly, forehead resting against yours. "You shouldn’t — shouldn't have ever had to run baby. Shouldn’t have had to hear that shit."

"I don’t care what they said," you whispered. "You’re my husband. I love you. I just… I need you to come back home with me."

"Okay," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Okay, baby. I’m here."

The sun was low by the time Juice wrapped you in his kutte, carefully zipping it over your frame like you were made of glass.

He didn’t say much when you left the clubhouse—just gave Chibs a grim nod, kissed your temple, and walked you out with one hand at the small of your back and the other clenched so tightly around his helmet strap that his knuckles had turned white.

During the ride home, his body was tense, coiled like a live wire between you.

His hand never left your leg, fingers occasionally brushing against your knee to make sure you were still holding on, still okay.

You knew he was worried, knew his mind was racing behind those dark, focused eyes.

He was quite, Juan Carlos Ortiz, who never stopped talking was quite.

Once inside the apartment, you barely had time to drop your bag before he turned, cradling your face with both hands.

"You okay, baby?" he asked quietly. "You feel safe here with me? If you don’t—I’ll fix it. We’ll go somewhere else, whatever you want. I just—I just need to know you feel safe right now."

Your answer—was a small nod.

He kissed your forehead and whispered, "Good—thats good baby," under his breath, not realizing he said it aloud, just trying to convince himself that he hadn’t let them get to you too deeply.

You’d insisted on making dinner. Said something about “normalcy,” your voice thin but determined.

Juice didn’t argue. He watched from the doorway as you stood at the stove in one of his oversized shirts, stirring pasta sauce with slow, deliberate movements.

He saw the little tremble in your hand as you reached for the seasoning, the way your shoulders flinched at every sudden sound outside.

He hated it.

"Baby," he said, voice soft as he stepped behind you, "you don’t have to do this. You could’ve just sat down and let me take care of everything. You should be resting—"

"I want to do this," you replied, not turning around. "For you."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his cheek against your head.

"You do enough just existing, you know that? Just waking up next to you makes me feel like I haven’t completely fucked up my life."

You smiled faintly. He kissed your temple.

Then—because Juice was finally starting to feel more like Juice again—he started rambling, voice low and rapid, his thoughts spiraling as they always did when he was scared and couldn’t fix things.

"I just keep thinking—what if they’d followed you longer? What if you hadn’t gotten away? What if you hadn’t spit at him and ran? I should’ve been there. I should’ve known. Fuck, and the photo—they took a photo, babe. Like they were tracking us. That’s not okay. That’s never okay. And I—I let that happen. To you."

"Hey," you said gently, turning in his arms. "You didn’t let anything happen. I’m okay. We're ok Juan. "

His eyes were red. You weren’t sure if it was from tears or fury. Maybe both.

"C'mere" you mumbled pulling him down until his head dropped into the space between your neck and your shoulder."We are ok" you said slow and sure.

Dinner made it to the table, but neither of you touched it.

Juice just sat across from you, legs bouncing under the table. His hand reached for yours again and again, thumb rubbing little circles over your knuckles, like he needed that constant tether to remind him you were still here.

"I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you," he whispered at one point. "I mean—I know I’d burn the world down, but like… after that? I don’t think I’d come back from it, baby."

"I’m not going anywhere," you promised, squeezing his hand. "We’re okay. You and me? We’re always okay."

He exhaled, finally nodding, and got up to kneel beside your chair, pulling you into his arms like he needed to physically feel that you were alive.

The apartment was dim except for the soft glow of the bathroom light spilling down the hallway.

Juice stood behind you with a towel in his hand, gently drying your damp hair after you’d showered.

He moved slowly, carefully, as though afraid even the weight of the towel might hurt you.

You sat on the closed toilet lid in his oversized hoodie, legs tucked under you, small and quiet—still reeling.

He could see it in the way your eyes avoided the mirror, the way you chewed nervously at your bottom lip.

Juice’s own reflection looked tired—eyes dark, jaw clenched—but every time he looked down at you, his expression softened into something achingly tender.

"I should’ve been there," he said, fingers stilling in your hair. "I should’ve walked you. Or followed you. Or—fuck, anything."

You reached up and touched his arm, a silent plea to stop blaming himself.

Stupid fucking idiot Ortiz, can't keep your girl safe.

He shook his head before you could speak. "No, babe, listen—I know you’re gonna say it’s not my fault, and I know that technically it’s not. But they touched you. They got that close to you. And I wasn't there to stop it. I hate that."

His voice cracked, just slightly. He kissed the crown of your head and whispered, "I hate that more than I know how to say."

He helped you into bed gently, folding back the blankets and smoothing the sheets like it mattered more than breathing.

You noticed how his hands lingered on your arms, brushing your skin like it might bruise.

You slipped into one of his shirts—he’d already laid it out, warm from the dryer—and when you sat down, he knelt in front of you, fingers brushing along your calf as he helped with your socks.

It was an unnecessary gesture.

You were fine.

But he needed to do something right.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked, not looking up yet.

His voice was quieter now, more raw. "Like—not in a ‘say-it-once-a-day’ kind of way. I mean it like… my chest physically hurts when I think about something happening to you. It’s like I stop working. Everything freezes up. My head goes to shit and all I can think about is you screaming my name and me not being there fast enough."

You touched his cheek, and he leaned into your palm like he needed the reassurance just to breathe.

"You looked so small when you came running in," he continued, curling one of your hands into both of his. "I’ve never seen you that scared. And I'll do anything—anything to never ever see it again."

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. He could see it in your eyes—that quiet, unwavering love.

He kissed your knuckles. "No hesitation, baby. I'd—I'd kill for you, You’re it for me. You always have been— Baby id do the time, I just want you safe."

Once the lights were off, and you were both curled under the covers, Juice didn’t stop touching you.

It wasn’t sexual.

It was grounding—his hand on your back, fingers tracing slow, mindless circles.

The other hand laced with yours over your chest.

He talked in that nervous, low tone again.

His forehead pressed to yours, breath warm.

"We should move. Not far, but somewhere quieter. I can talk to Jax, maybe put in for something low-profile. I’ll set up cameras. Deadbolts."

"Juice we have camera's" You whispered.

He didn't hear you.

'You shouldn’t even have to think about being scared, you know?" He mumbled into your hair.

"I'm not scared Juice, I have you"

"I’ll get one of those apps where I can track you—not in a creepy way, just like, to keep you safe. You’d still have your privacy. I just—fuck, babe. I need to know you’re good, always."

"I'm good Juice—because of you" You told him.

And he whispered, "Promise me you’ll tell me if you’re not. Even if you think it’s dumb or small or not worth saying. I wanna know all of it. Every little thing. Because it’s you. Because it matters."

You nodded. He exhaled like that gave him permission to breathe again.

The apartment was dark, save for the soft, amber glow from the kitchen under-light.

Juice sat propped up against the headboard, one arm looped protectively around your waist as you lay curled into his side.

You were breathing slow, steady, your face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. He hadn’t moved in over an hour, afraid to wake you—but too wired to sleep himself.

His eyes stared up at the ceiling, unblinking, flickering with a hundred worries at once.

His hand brushed slow, gentle patterns over your spine. The same rhythm again and again. It wasn’t soothing him, but he hoped it was keeping you safe in your sleep.

"I don’t know how I got this lucky," he whispered, voice barely above a breath. "You… you don’t even know. You don’t see the way the world really works, and I love that. I love that you still smile like that. That you talk to strangers like they’re not monsters. Like they won’t hurt you."

He pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo— something sweet, something safe.

"I should’ve been there, baby. I should’ve walked you. I should’ve felt it, known something was off. I should’ve been waiting, not holed up with club shit like some dumbass. What kind of man doesn’t protect the one thing in the world that matters to him?"

He didn’t expect an answer. You were asleep. But that didn’t stop the words from coming.

Juice leaned in and softly brushed his knuckles across your cheek. You stirred just a little, murmuring something against his chest—but settled again without opening your eyes.

His heart clenched.

"I swear I’ll never let that happen again," he whispered. "I’ll go full-on paranoid if I have to. GPS on your car. Cameras outside. I’ll talk to Chibs, see if we can rotate prospects to do errands with you. I don’t care how crazy it sounds. I’ll carry your groceries myself. I’ll stand behind you at every checkout line."

He swallowed thickly. His throat burned.

"You’re the only thing that keeps me here, you know that? Like... grounded. Not just alive but really living."

He blinked rapidly to keep his vision clear. "And if anyone thinks they can touch you again—if they even look at you like that—I’ll end them. I don’t care who they are or what it costs me. They don’t get to scare you. They don’t get to ruin you baby."

He laid a hand over your small one where it rested on his chest, his thumb stroking slowly across your fingers.

"I love you," he whispered again, quieter now. "So damn much it hurts."

At some point, his head dropped back to the pillow. But he didn’t close his eyes.

He just stared at you—watched the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted when you dreamed.

He shifted, barely, so he could see your face better in the faint light.

"You’re gonna wake up tomorrow and smile like nothing happened," he murmured, mostly to himself now.

"You’ll make breakfast. Hum to yourself while you clean something that doesn’t even need cleaning."

He pressed a kiss to your temple, slow and reverent.

"And I’ll still be standing right here—thinking about what they could’ve done. About how fast everything could’ve changed. And how I would’ve just... fallen apart."

His eyes scanned your face, looking for damage he knew wasn't there.

"I won’t let anything touch you again, baby," he said. "I’ll build a fortress around you if I have to. Just keep being you. Keep being soft. Let me be the one who gets dirty."

[bellaxgiornata]

Want to Know You Better 1:|Bad Impressions

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; investigative journalist!Reader, bodyguard!Jax, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, eventual smut, slow burn, angst

summary: For over a year you had been tracking Aleksander Petrova through California–a Russian crime lord known to abduct sex workers for his trafficking ring. Seven months ago, he disappeared from the L.A. area, but a series of missing women in Northern California catches your attention, drawing you to Charming in the hopes of linking enough evidence together to once again get the FBI involved. But when the Sons’ President makes a terrible first impression before inserting himself into your work, your investigation turns into more than you anticipated.

a/n: I couldn't resist an enemies to lovers fic with Jax also determined to stubbornly be Readers' self-appointed bodyguard. I'm very much in the Jax mindset lately... Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989

“Well, it has been a bit, man,” Happy agreed with Opie.

Jax took a pull off of his beer as the table of Sons around him broke into a fit of laughter at his expense. The thunderous noise of their amusement drowned out the classic rock playing in the bar they’d settled at tonight. For once they found themselves drinking somewhere other than at the clubhouse. Tonight, they were at The Alley, a dive bar in downtown Charming. Having just finished a meeting here with Marks, they had all collectively decided to stay and enjoy a few more rounds before heading back.

Jax rolled his eyes at the Sons’ teasing, not exactly taking their bullshit personally. They’d had a rough past few weeks and were just trying to unwind for the night. He knew that.

“Got nothin’ to say in your defense, Jackie boy?” Chibs asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Ya suddenly gone celibate?”

Swallowing down his beer, Jax shrugged as he lowered the bottle back to the table. A smug grin drew itself over his lips before he answered. “What can I say? I’ve just been busy,” he told the guys. “Pussy hasn’t exactly been top priority on my mind lately.”

A round of disbelief flew from around the table next, the noise only causing Jax’s grin to grow wider. It was true, though. He really hadn’t been concerning himself with getting laid over the past few weeks, too focused and stressed over club business to have even thought about it. He honestly had been so caught up in everything that he hadn’t even realized how long it had been since he’d last taken a girl to his bed.

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Bobby joked.

“Or you’re just going soft on us, Pres,” Tig quipped. 

One of Jax’s brows arched up onto his forehead at that comment. Going soft? Now that was absolute bullshit. 

“Don’t be a jackass,” Jax replied. “I’m not losing nothing, and I sure as shit have not gone soft, Tig.”

A glint of mischief surfaced in Tig’s eyes at Jax’s response. He leaned forward, resting his elbows along the table as a teasing grin slipped onto his face. “Oh no?” he questioned. “You haven’t? You…willing to make a bet on that, Jax?”

Jax settled back in his chair, his hands folding in front of himself as he studied the man. The entire table of Sons had fallen silent at Tig’s question, intrigue hanging thick between them all. Jax never backed down from a challenge, they all knew that. 

“Yeah,” Jax answered easily. “I am. What do you have in mind, Tig?”

“Oh, shit,” Opie muttered with a chuckle, running a hand through his beard.

“Now this is getting good,” Chibs added, gesturing his beer at Tig. “Let’s hear it, brother.”

Tig straightened in his chair, his focus remaining fixed on Jax across the table from him. That mischievous glint in his eye hadn’t yet faded.

“Alright then, Jax. You wanna prove you haven’t gone soft on us? I bet you to get a girl from this bar onto the back of your bike and show her a good time in your bed before we’re finished here tonight,” Tig challenged. “And I’m clarifying that it’s gotta be a broad of our choosing, not yours. No easy pickings.”

A chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘oh shit’ was muttered around the table as all of the Sons’ eyes darted between Jax and Tig as the bet was laid out. Jax didn’t look remotely fazed by it, though. Instead, he easily drew his beer up to his lips, finishing the last of it before he set the bottle back down on the table.

“You’re on,” Jax replied, a confident grin tugging at his lips. “I guarantee I can get any girl in here on my bike in fifteen minutes or less easily.” He jutted his chin at Tig before he continued, that cocky tone of his growing. “What do I get when I win?”

Tig took a moment, as if he was thinking about the answer, mulling it over for a minute. “Give you three hundred bucks,” he finally answered. “Plus, you get laid. But–” he held up a finger, that glint in his eyes still lingering, “–if you lose, we collectively get to think of some form of embarrassing punishment for you.”

That gave Jax pause for a moment, one hand running through the scruff along his chin. Not that he remotely doubted his ability to get a girl in his bed by any means, but the possibility that they might pick some chick that he somehow would not be able to charm didn’t sit well with him. Because he could only imagine what embarrassing ‘punishment’ the guys would love to force on him.

“You’re hesitating, Jax,” Bobby pointed out.

With a roll of his eyes, Jax sat forward in his chair. “Of course I’m in,” he accepted without another thought, the confidence returning. “This is going to be stupid easy anyway.”

“Aye, well,” Chibs said, shaking his head at his President. “Don’t forget, Jackie, the girls here are normal broads. Not the kind at the clubhouse. Or Diosa or the porn studio.”

Opie shook with silent laughter on the other side of Jax, one of his hands reaching out to lightly nudge his best friend. “That’s right,” he agreed. “These girls aren’t pre-warmed and ready for your advances, brother.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Jax replied, waving the comment off. “Who the hell would say no to some time with this face?”

Another round of raucous laughter erupted from the table and Jax grinned wider at the sound. He had no doubt that he’d find a way to charm any woman the guys ultimately picked. Didn’t matter if she wasn’t a croweater, he’d find a way. He knew he was attractive and he had the confidence to go with it. He’d make it happen. There was no way in hell he’d lose the bet.

“Great,” Tig said, clapping his hands together before he turned away from the table. “Now to find a suspect.”

For a few minutes, Jax sat at the table as the Sons all began surveying the bar in search of a target for this bet. He listened as the men pointed out a few different options, hearing comments like ‘no, looks too willing’ or ‘doesn’t look remotely challenging enough’. He chuckled to himself, watching as all of his men kept talking amongst themselves until Tig eventually caught everyone’s attention.

“That one!” he exclaimed, gesturing a finger across the bar. “The one at the end of the bar there. Hunched over her phone. Didn’t even notice her at first.”

Jax shifted in his seat, trying to get a look at where all of the men were now focused. In the far corner of the room, almost too easy to miss, was indeed a woman hunched over her phone. She looked like she was concentrating on something, and judging by the way she was dressed, she wasn’t trying to capture the attention of anyone in the bar tonight. Jax was immediately thankful that he didn’t find her unattractive, either. If anything, he found himself pleased this was the woman they’d picked for the bet. He wouldn't mind her in his bed for a couple of hours tonight.

“She looks more like she’d slap Jax for approaching rather than sleep with him,” Bobby said with a laugh. 

Tig shot a look over his shoulder at Bobby, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded his head in agreement. “I know, right? She’s perfect.”

“If anything,” Jax cut in, glancing back over at the woman, “she looks like she’d be thanking me for giving her a little stress relief. She looks a little too tightly wound.”

The table of Sons all returned their attention to Jax now, curious expressions adorning their faces. They were waiting to see if he would keep his word now that a woman had been chosen for the bet.

“Still think you got it in you to charm a girl like that?” Opie asked.

“Yeah, Jax,” Tig goaded. “You gonna call off the bet or what?”

“Fuck off,” Jax said as he rose from his chair, lightly slapping a hand onto the table. “No goddamn way I'm turning the bet down–or losing it. Let me show you boys how it’s done. I’ll have her on my bike and screaming my name in no time.”

Another round of laughter came from around the table, a few of the men wishing Jax good luck. Opie gave him a pat on the back as Jax walked away from the group, his gaze fixed on the unsuspecting woman at the far end of the bar.

This was going to be fun.

The dive bar you’d found yourself in for the evening smelled like mold and sweat–not unlike the shitty motel room you’d checked yourself into earlier today. And yet somehow it had still been rated the best of all the shitty motels in Charming. 

Today had been long. You'd had a bit of a drive out to the small town of Charming from Red Ridge this morning–the city in which you lived just a little outside of San Francisco where your prestigious paper, the San Francisco Sun Times, was located. After briefly unpacking a few of your things in the motel you’d unfortunately have to call home for a bit, you'd hit the road again and began your investigation around the surrounding area.

Aleksander Petrova was your great white whale. You’d been chasing him for well over a year now, and you’d almost led the FBI straight to him seven months ago, but some sort of information leak had given the bastard a chance to disappear into thin air before they’d had an opportunity for an arrest. He’d been right there operating just outside of Los Angeles for months and you’d been linking missing woman after missing woman together, discovering a pattern in which he’d targeted female sex workers specifically. Whether his men abducted them from the street, underground brothels, or strip clubs, you’d grown familiar with how he targeted them. But then his ass had disappeared into the wind. 

Until recently.

Which was why you’d landed yourself in Northern California now. You had caught the familiar pattern in the unreported missing women cases in the area that had been occurring for the past few months. You were positive it was Petrova. But due to his reach and wealth, and the fact that most of society didn’t bat an eye at a missing prostitute, no one had looked into the cases. It didn’t help that Petrova had plenty of law enforcement in his back pocket, making it easy for officers to turn a blind eye to what was actually going on throughout the state.

But not you.  

Huddled over the counter of the bar in the dim lighting, you were focused on typing up an email to your editor on your phone. Gary had technically wanted you to check in with him once you’d gotten settled in Charming earlier this morning, but having been unable to resist getting started on your investigation after finally catching a lead, you admittedly had forgotten all about shooting him an email. You hoped the added bit of information about what you’d started working on today would ease the angry scolding you were sure to receive later.

As you typed, absently sipping on the piss beer you'd ordered a while ago–the one that was only half-finished and growing warm–you eventually felt a presence sidle up near you at the bar. Still focused on your work email, you paid the person no mind as your fingers swiftly flew over the keyboard of your phone. But when you noticed them lean against the counter near you from your peripheral, you had a feeling your quiet evening trying to unwind and focus your thoughts was about to be interrupted.

“Hey there, darlin’,” a deep, smooth voice came from beside you. “You're not from around here, are you?”

Without even glancing up, fingers still flying across the keys of your phone, you tensed at the man's clearly obvious intent. You had important work to focus on, you weren't interested in getting hit on by some random guy in a small town.

“No thank you,” you simply replied, not bothering to look at him. 

An amused chuckle met your response, the sound only further irritating you. So this guy wasn't going to give up easily. Fantastic.

“Maybe you should put the phone down, sweetheart,” the voice tried again. “You're missing out on what's going on around you. Like me flirting with you.”

Fingers pausing their typing, you resisted the urge to throw your phone at him. “I wouldn't say I'm ‘missing’ it, exactly,” you said, annoyance levels rising. “It's actually interrupting my work.”

“You're working right now?” the voice asked incredulously. “Darlin’, no. Put the phone away, you're sitting at a bar. Why the hell are you working?”

“Look, if you’re looking for an easy lay tonight, it’s not me,” you stated bluntly, skimming through the finished email on your phone. “I’ll save you the time right now: I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

Another amused chuckle rumbled from the man beside you before you caught him sliding a little bit closer down the length of the counter towards you. Pressing the send button on your phone a bit more roughly than necessary, you couldn’t believe the audacity of this asshole. Was he really going to be that persistent?

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to talk to you,” he replied, entirely unfazed by your rejection. “No need to go getting ahead of ourselves quite yet.”

With a frustrated huff, you turned off the screen on your phone and finally looked over at the man beside you, an irritated glare already on your face. But the irritation immediately fell from it when you realized you recognized this man. An annoying smirk quickly overtook his features as he caught the shift in your own expression, but you didn’t even give that arrogant look on his face another thought before your eyes dropped down to the leather kutte he was wearing, your eyes landing on the President patch. After a brief pause, your gaze slid back up to meet his. The smirk on his face only grew a bit wider as he continued to lean against the bar counter in front of you.

“Change your mind now, darlin’?” he asked.

Ignoring the smirk that seemed to be permanently present and the cocky confidence he exuded, your eyes narrowed slightly back at him. You’d done your research before coming out to Charming. You knew exactly who he was, and he was someone you’d been hoping to get an audience with while you were here. Especially because you were partly here because of him. What were the odds he’d just walk right up to you in a piece of shit dive bar?

“Jax Teller, right?” you questioned back.

That caught him off guard. He visibly recoiled, his eyes widening a bit as you called him by his name. A name he hadn’t given you yet. It took him a moment to recover, his demeanor shifting to something cautious and suspicious almost instantly. 

“Yeah, and who the hell are you, sweetheart?” he asked, tone a bit sharper now.

Turning in your chair, you stuck your hand into your purse which hung over the back of it before pulling out a business card. He gave you a strange look as you slid it towards him on the counter, clearly not anticipating the flirtatious conversation to go the way it currently was. 

“I’m an investigative journalist,” you informed him. “For the San Francisco Sun Times. I’m out here working a story on missing sex workers.”

Jax’s eyes rose back to you over the top of the business card he was holding in his hand. He looked confused as he studied you in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” he finally asked.

With a roll of your eyes you briefly explained yourself. “I’m investigating the disappearances of missing women–specifically sex workers–in Northern Cali. I believe they’re linked to Aleksander Petrova. You know, the big Russian crime lord?”

Jax pulled a face, his expression morphing briefly into one of horrified disbelief as he set your card back on the bar counter. “Yeah, darlin’. I damn well know who he is,” he told you. “What the hell are you doing looking into a man like that?”

An annoyed huff fell out of you in response. “I just told you,” you replied.

“No, I heard what you said,” he continued, shaking his head at you. “But, sweetheart, you’re a journalist. The hell are you gonna do going up against a man like Petrova?”

Turning further towards him in your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh. You’d been doing this for a long time now, you weren’t remotely incompetent. And you certainly didn’t appreciate being treated as such.

“I’m not going up against him, Mr. Teller,” you began, noticing the way his lips twitched when you’d referred to him so formally. “I’m investigating the missing women. Petrova has a pattern and I’ve been following him for over a year now. I’m trying to find evidence to link the missing women to him so I can give the FBI the information and they can take him down.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, an unreadable expression crossing his features as he listened to what you were saying. He looked completely different now than the arrogant flirt he had been just a few minutes ago.

“Helping those women and stopping that piece of shit is my main priority,” you finished. “The pay from publishing the story just keeps me doing what I do to help others.”

“You realize how unsafe and stupid that is, right?” he shot back. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. Or taken for his trafficking ring yourself. You’re just one goddamn woman going up against a Russian mobster with far more wealth and power than you have. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your vote of confidence,” you bitterly pointed out.

He paused for a moment, irritation briefly washing across his features. You figured he wasn’t used to being spoken to like this very often. Particularly by women, if your research into his club had taught you anything.

“Why’re you telling me all of this?” he asked curiously. “Why are you here in Charming?”

“Because, Mr. Teller,” you began, enjoying the flash of annoyance on his face at your continued formality, “I have a reasonable suspicion that your club’s businesses might be affected by all of this.”

His eyes immediately hardened at that, a dangerous glint in them. But before he got a word out, a loud commotion broke out over the noise of the bar. Both of you glanced over at the increasing ruckus across the room. You spotted a table filled with Sons all currently banging their hands against the surface and shouting at Jax. 

“We believe in ya, Jackie!”

“Come on, brother! Seal the deal!”

“What's taking you so goddamn long, man!”

You frowned as the group of men fell into loud laughter, your attention slowly returning to the man in front of you. It was obvious they were shouting at him in relation to him having come over to flirt with you, but they seemed far too invested for their behavior to be normal. Jax's expression didn't give you much to go by as he only appeared to grow further irritated at their interruption before he turned back around and focused on you.

“What businesses are you talking about, darlin’?” he asked.

Resting an arm along the sticky bar counter, you kept your attention solely on him despite the continued noise from across the room. This conversation was far more important than whatever bullshit these men were shouting about. You might never have the opportunity of discussing anything about this investigation with Jax again after tonight, you couldn't waste the opportunity that had fallen into your lap.

“Redwoody and Diosa,” you answered him. “And the Diosa expansion I know you’re working on.”

Jax tensed at your response, his eyes narrowing further as he grew even more uncomfortable now. “How do you know about those?” he asked. “And why do they have anything to do with this?”

“I'm good at my job, Mr. Teller,” you answered. “And I told you, Petrova targets sex workers. And you and your club happen to have rounded quite a few up for your porn business and the poorly disguised brothels.” At the look that flashed across his face, you abruptly held up a hand and continued. “Relax, I'm not here to out you on those. I've known about them for a while now. If I wanted them shut down, they'd have been raided already. That's not what I'm after.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a lot of knowledge that you shouldn’t have. I’m not likin’ that.”

Tapping your nails against the bar, you could see the tension increasing in him. He’d obviously expected to come over here and flirt, probably thinking he’d take you somewhere for a fuck. Now he looked stiff and pissed off. 

“Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to tell you this to your face if I planned to shut your shit down?” you asked him. “Because that’d be pretty fucking stupid.” Sighing, your nails stopped tapping along the counter as you tried to be straight with him. “Look, I’m investigating these missing women either way. While I do, I’m hoping to keep your girls safe. All I’d like is a little cooperation to do so.”

“Cooperation?” he asked skeptically.

You shrugged easily. “Yeah. Like a head’s up if something weird is going on,” you explained. “If someone’s eyeing your businesses. Following any of your girls home. Anyone actually ends up missing.”

“Darlin’, I think I’m better equipped to take care of our girls more than you are,” he argued, that arrogant smirk gradually returning. “And I don’t need some fed wannabe dragging the real feds to my town.”

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair out and rising to your feet, “I’ll still be around. In case you care to change your mind and help those missing women.”

Pocketing your phone into your jean’s pocket, you figured it was about time you made it back to your motel for the night. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow and you wanted to finalize a few more notes on your laptop before bed. Grabbing your purse and slipping the strap over your head, you paused when Jax’s voice suddenly broke through your thoughts.

“Whoa, wait, you’re just leaving then?” he asked. “You drop a bomb like that and then you’re just gonna disappear? You didn’t even finish your beer.”

Glancing over at the half-finished, disappointing drink, you made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “It was shitty beer, anyway.” 

You managed to take one step before Jax was speaking again. In the distance, you heard a bit of commotion steadily growing from the table of Sons once more.

“Come on,” Jax tried again. “Just let me buy you a drink. Something a little less shitty. We can talk about something…less depressing.”

Eyes running over the length of him just once, you already knew what he was after. And the answer was still no. You were here to finish this story and get Petrova thrown in prison. Fucking some random outlaw–no matter how attractive–wasn’t a priority. Especially one who, in your research, apparently had a history of fucking just about anything. You avoided guys like that.

“No, I’m good,” you answered. “Have a nice night, Mr. Teller.”

Taking just a few steps towards the bar’s exit, you heard the commotion from the table of Sons suddenly explode throughout the bar. The noise caused you to halt in your tracks, your head darting over towards the table as your brows knitted together in curiosity. 

“Aw, Jackie!” one of the men shouted. “Ya lost the bet!”

“You’re losing your touch, brother!”

“Shot down! No action for you!”

It took a moment, but the second your ears registered the words ‘bet,’ you steadily began piecing things together. He hadn’t come over to initially speak with you because he’d actually been interested, it’s because they’d all made you into a damn bet. A fucking joke for their entertainment. Probably something along the lines of him getting you into his bed. A look of disgust passed over your features as your gaze shifted to Jax still standing beside the bar. He at least had the audacity to look moderately apologetic before he turned his attention towards the guys, shouting loudly across the room to be heard.

“Knock it the fuck off, assholes!”

Shaking your head at him, you could feel the disgust and embarrassment steadily filling you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t worked with countless individuals in the seedy underworld, because you most certainly had. Your ability to humanize them to the outside world in your pieces was something you’d been praised for repeatedly. But never in your years of journalism had you been subjected to something so humiliating. 

“You just saved me three hundred bucks, sweetheart!” one man shouted over to you.

A chorus of laughter erupted once more from the table as you made your way to the exit without a backwards glance at Jax. Instead, you shot the men at the table a dark glare, raising a hand high in the air and flipping the whole table off before pushing the door open and making your way outside. 

Working with the Sons on this story, if you managed it, was going to be a pain in your ass.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 3, Episode 1 - The Magnificent Seven

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: ITS FINALLY FUCKING HERE (saying this as if I haven’t written their sex scene for months now LMFAOOOO) This chapter is LONGGG overdue and for that I apologize once again, thank you my beauties for being so patient and understanding❤️

So the song inspos for the first part of this chapter are One Of The Girls by The Weeknd, JENNIE and Lily-Rose Depp and Good For You by Selena Gomez.

I would 100% suggest listening to the remix version of the songs smashed together while reading for the full experience :) (if y’all know me, I don’t have to say that I’m obsessed with that song LOL)

Don’t be too harsh on me, I’m not versed in writing smut scenes yet so😭be gentle! (unlike dean to y/n hehe) In this scene, you’ll find out where Dean’s nickname ‘Charming’ comes from🙃

Also heads up, you’re probably gonna cuss at me a little for this chapter but it’ll be fineeee XD

WARNINGS: smutty smut smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), p-in-v intercourse, praise kink, dom!dean (minor sub!dean) ENJOY❤️

____________________________________________

Y/N’s POV

Lake Preston, South Dakota

Currently we’re all at one of my safehouses in South Dakota. Sam’s downstairs doing god knows what while me and Dean are upstairs…putting the wand in the chamber of secrets.

Third Person POV

Y/N and Dean were up in her room getting hot and heavy, tongues colliding, bodies bumping. Straddling him while in a passionate make out session, he pulls back, out of breath, his calloused hands resting gently on the sides of her face, “You sure about this princess?? You don’t gotta do anything just because-” His voice is gentle.

Y/N cut him off with a kiss. “Baby I’ve been waiting too long for this and now I know you have too. You asking consent however, is sooooo fucking hot” She said, out of breath, causing a smirk to widen on Dean’s features.

He leaned her back slowly on the bed, both hands bracing the small of her back as she lowered, her back finally hitting the cotton sheets. “Oh yeah?” He teased, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, running one of his hands inside her shirt, unclasping her bra with one hand from behind expertly. She’s stunned by the skill.

He pulled her shirt fluidly off, then her bra by each arm, tossing them both aside, taking his time to gawk at her exposed chest. “Goddammit Y/N” He groaned amazed, peppering kisses all over her chest, then taking a nipple into his mouth, playing with the other between his fingers. “Fuck..” She gasped, throwing her head back into the pillow, Dean’s mouth latched into her nipple.

“See something you like, Winchester?” She teased him. He growled in response. Taking that as a yes, she tugged at his shirt and peels it off of him to reveal his chiseled toned chest. Y/N sucked in some breath between her teeth when he reattached his lips to her sensitive nub, sucking like a starved man on her tits.

She felt a sense of deja vu wash over her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” He groaned in pleasure, kissing down her body. “Deeann” She moaned his name and he snapped his gaze up at her, his eyes clouded with a mixture of lust and love. He felt that, ‘Deannn’ in the pit of his stomach, and son-of-a-bitch, did he love it. “Fuck you sound so hot moaning my name” He tugged at her jeans, pulling it down to reveal her lacy black panties.

She made sure to put on a pair after both showering separately at Bobby’s house just for this. As much as she would’ve liked Dean to join her, she refused with every bit of self-control she had, ensuring him she’d rather do it here and he respected that, of course.

Dean moaned at the sight and she smirked at his reaction. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna kill me” He groaned, trailing his fingers along the slit of her clothed mound. “Oh shit” She moaned as he teased her.

He slid her panties to the side, revealing her glistening wet folds. “All this just for me?” He smirked at her, his voice husky and filled with lust. Teasing her clit a bit, a long breathy moan escaping her throat.

“Only for you, charming” She winked back with a moan as he slid her panties off. Positioning his head in-between her legs, he kissed her inner thigh, teasing her and she groaned impatiently. “Dammit Dean, don’t be a tease” She whined, thumping his head lightly, earning a chuckle from him in return.

“Patience Princess” He dove straight in, teasing her sensitive folds, circling around her entrance and now swirling around her clit. She let out a loud breathy moan.

Throwing her head back and grabbing onto the back of his head with her hand. “Oh god Dean!” She moaned his name loudly, arching her back off the bed, burying her fingers into his hair, pressing her pussy deeper into his mouth. “You taste so fucking good” He moaned into her pussy, turning her on even more.

Dean growled around her clit, sending shivers up her core like electricity in a socket, sucking gently as she moaned his name. His fingers trace the outline of her pussy lips, dipping inside of her. “Fuck, you're so tight” He whined, looking up at her, thrusting his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace.

She hissed lightly at the cold feeling of his ring brushing her lips. “Oh fuck oh fuck! Dean!” She cried out in pleasure as he hit her g spot with his fingers, already feeling to cum. “Scream my name, princess” he bellowed out, his voice gruff, almost animalistic. Usually she’s not an easy woman to please but somehow it’s like Dean already knew her body.

“Don’t stop please don’t stop I’m gonna cum” Y/N pleaded, begging for release. Dean whined as he felt her tighten around his fingers, milking his hand. He continued to pleasure her, pushing her further and further over the edge until she’s screaming out his name in ecstasy. “Fuck yeah. That's it. Soak my fingers” He ordered her with a growl.

With that, she heeded to his command. “DEAN!!!!” She bellowed into the empty room, drenching his finger with her juices as he continued to tease her clit. “That’s a good girl” He praised her softly. He slowly retracted his fingers out of y/n’s pussy, slick with her juices. Inching it closer to his mouth, wrapping his lips around his fingers, swirling his tongue like a starved beast.

Sucking off all of her from it. His eyes fluttered shut as he did this. She’s dazzled by the sight of him enjoying the taste of her on his tongue she couldn’t help but say “I need you please” She begged him to fuck her, needing the feeling of his cock filling her up.

Dean's eyes flashed with lust as he crawled up her body, his hot breath tickling her neck as he whispered mockingly. “You want my cock, baby?” His dirty mouth just turned her on more, he seemed to notice the way his dirty talk added fuel to her pleasure and he basked in it.

Y/N had a fair idea Dean would be vocal in bed but THIS. This was just perfect. She nodded slowly, biting her lip as she looked up into his lust filled eyes, “Please…” Y/N pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper, not caring how desperate and slutty she sounded. Her voice was needy and whiny. The tone added to Dean’s desire.

Dean smirked, his eyes full of desire. He threw his legs off the side of the bed, y/n followed, sitting at the edge reaching for his belt, undoing it and sliding his pants off. Her eyes never left his as she did this, a playful smile playing on her lips while Dean’s were parted.

He helped her pull down his boxers, fully taking them off before tossing them aside. Revealing his hard cock, bobbing eagerly. Y/N licked her lips, desperate to know how he felt inside of her, he wanted to know too but she wanted to taste him.

As fucking weird as it sounds, his cock was so damn pretty.

The smile on her lips told him exactly that as Y/N playfully kissed right below his stomach, before licking his trail, earning a desperate whine from Dean. The sound from him practically had her soaking the sheets.

“As much as I would love to feel your mouth on me…” He groaned as he leaned towards her, she moved back, lowering herself onto the back again.

Dean then positioned himself between her legs, teasing Y/N’s entrance. “…I wanna feel you so fucking bad” Staring into his eyes. Her lip tucked between her teeth, “Fuck me” Y/N’s never been so vulnerable with anyone before, so needy, so comfortable. Sure she’s had sex many…many times, but never with this level of tension. Little did she know, Dean was in the same boat.

He shook his head. “No sweetheart, I’m gonna make love to you” Dean whispered into her ear, chuckling darkly as he lined up his cock to the entrance of her pussy.

He thrusted in, claiming y/n as his own, earning a loud gasp from her as her eyes rolled to the back, tilting as he slowly inched inside of her. “Sooo much better than I imagined” He gasped as he entered her, throwing his head back slowly. “Oh god yes!” Y/N’s back arched off the bed as he fills her up slowly. Dean's hips roll smoothly against hers like water, his cock filling her completely.

“That's it, baby. Take it all.” The second he filled her up, allowing her to adjust to his size. Y/N knew it wasn’t anything like what she’s had many times before. With Dean it was so passionate, so raw, so fulfilling, so….real. He groaned, the sound vibrating through her body. “God Y/N. You feel so good” Dean winced in her ear as he kissed her neck sloppily, nibbling on her collarbone.

“Fuck Deaaannnn” Y/N gasped, as she cried out in ecstasy, her mouth agape. “Shit! You’re so fucking big oh my god!” His muscles tense up when she moaned his name, grunting in sheer pleasure. She could feel herself clenching around his big hard cock, grazing over her g spot.

“Faster, please” she whined, Dean immediately picked up the pace, fucking her hard and fast. His hips slam into hers, driving his cock deeper into her pussy. “You're so wet, baby. I can feel how much you love my cock.” He moaned shamelessly.

“Don’t get cocky now, Winchester” she growled at him, gripping onto his bicep, her nails digging into his arm. Y/N’s tits bounced out of control with each thrust. “You mean like the one you’re taking right now, L/N?” He countered, smirking, rolling his hips into hers.

Even having sex these two are flirting relentlessly. Her heart skipped a beat at this, but she’s too turnt on and filled with desire to answer. Dean pumped his hips faster, hitting that spot inside her directly, over and over. She gasped loudly when he did this, practically made of jello under him.

“Oh my god, Dean! Don’t stop pleas- Oh fuck, Deaaannn!” She screamed his name shamelessly, eyes screwed shut from pleasure. “Found it” He growled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. Proud of himself for finding her g spot so quickly. “Oh shit OH SHIT RIGHT THERE!” She gasped, lips parted.

The sounds of their skins slapping against each other in a wave combination of passion, love and lust. Butterflies rising in Y/N’s stomach, her pussy clenched around his cock as his deep moans fill the room along with her moans of pure ecstasy.

“You like that, don't you? You like how hard and deep I fuck you?” A gasp escaped her throat at his wicked tongue. “Yes yes YES!!!” She screamed, not caring who heard her. To hell with who hears, Dean wanted the world to know that Y/N was now his and his alone.

“Deannnnn!!!” She whined needily, a pornstar worthy moan leaving her throat. Dean growls, unable to contain the sound. His body shudders as he feels himself getting closer. “Fuck, Y/N. You're so goddamn sexy. I'm gonna make you scream for more.”

Dean slid cock out of her dripping cunt before yanking her by her feet to pull her back to the edge of the bed, flipping her over her stomach before gripping her hips and pulling her onto all fours, He spanked her ass cheek, leaving a red handprint. The yelp that escaped her was embarrassing but so soooo hot from the way it made her soak.

The dominance radiating off of him, usually y/n’s dominant in bed. But right now, she’s loving the way he’s taking control. He lined his cock up with her pussy again, teasing her entrance then thrusting in, slowly. “Shitttttt” Her back arched as he slowly fucked her from behind. Dean groaned, his cock sliding in and out of her glistening cunt.

Currently it’s taking all in his power not to cum already but he’s loving pleasuring his girl. His hands grip onto her hips, holding her in place as he fucks her harder from behind. The sight of her tattoo on her lower back was adding more fuel in his engine.

“God you feel so fucking amazing princess” He whined, throwing his head back, gripping her hips as he moans, his eyes closed while he guides his cock in and out of her wet pussy.

“Mhhhmmm just like that. Fuck me just like that, just like that baby. You’re doing such a good job” She urged him on, praising him. This encouraged Dean to pick up the pace, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up. Y/N’s back now against his chest. His teeth grazed her earlobe as he growled. “You like that? You want more?”

“Yes! Please!” She begged shamelessly. “Fuck yeah, make a mess all over this cock” He grunted as he slams his hips against her ass, his cock filling her up to the brim. Dean gives her perky ass hard slap before pulling out of her.

He flipped her over onto her back, his cock still hard and glistening with y/n’s juices. “Now, who's in control here, huh?” His tone is filled with authority and dominance. She stared back at him smirking, not answering.

Dean grinned wickedly as he lined his cock up with her pussy again. “If you want this cock, you gotta use your words, princess” He whispered menacingly in her ear, nibbling on the lobe. She whined at his teasing.

“You’re really gonna make me say it? Come on charming, don’t be a teaseee” She whined, making him chuckle deeply. He slowly sunk back inside of her, taking his time to savor the feeling. “I think we both know who's in charge here.”

“You sure about that?” She quipped, egging him on. Knowing that the more she teased him, the better he’s gonna fuck her. Dean growled, his hips slamming into Y/N hard. He snatched her legs and spread them wider, taking more of her pussy each time he thrusts.

She gasped loudly, moaning relentlessly as he ravaged her. “You better believe it, sweetheart.” He growled. Dean slams into Y/N harder, his body covered in sweat. He gripped her hips and yanked them towards him, giving her an extra deep thrust.

“That's it, such a good girl.”

“Deann baby”

“Say it again”

“Deaaaannnnn!”

“Oh fuck, Y/N!”

“Yess. Fuck me just like that! Just like that, oh god!!” She screamed out in pleasure as he claimed her as his own. Dean groaned, his body trembling with pleasure. “This pussy is amazing. You're amazing. I love you so much” He moans into her ear lovingly.

He continued to ramble as the pleasure filled his body. “I love you so much more” Y/N moaned. Dean's eyes roll back in his head, lost in the sensation of her wet tight pussy squeezing him. He grunted and moaned, his hips slamming into her mercilessly. She said his name over and over like a prayer.

“Oh god yes!” She grabbed one of her tits, squeezing the nipple and playing with it. She reached down to play with her sensitive clit. Dean growled, his cock throbbing inside her. He snatched Y/N’s hand from her clit, pinning them above her head, his free hand gripping onto her throbbing clit. “Move your hand baby. You're mine.”

“I’m all yours please, please let me cum” She begs him for release. Dean's eyes flash with dominance, his hand firmly holding onto her clit. He doesn't let up, thrusting into her with more force. “You’re so pretty when you’re begging” He growled menacingly. “Patience. Watch me make love to you. Watch how good it feels.” He teased her.

“Oh fuckkkkkk!!!” Y/N screamed out so loud shes sure everyone heard “Soooo fucking good. Pussy so wet and tight just for me. You’re all mine, princess” Dean's thrusts become even more powerful, his hips slamming into hers. “And you’re mine” Y/N growls back possessively.

His hand detached from her clit, reaching up to pinch and roll her nipple, eliciting a moan from y/n. “That's it, baby. Take it all.” He praised her. She took all his cock filling her up, reaching closer and closer to her orgasm. He gripped her hips tightly, pulling her onto him with every thrust.

Suddenly his pace faltered, slowing down. “Wh-what are you doing?” Y/N stutters a bit.

“I can feel you getting wetter. You want it so bad, don't you?” He whispered in her ear menacingly, edging her along. She could feel his cocky smirk against her neck. “Goddammit Dean! If you don’t let me cum I’ll-” Y/N yelled in a rage of ecstasy, needing to cum but he cut her off. “You’ll what?” He smirked, calling her out on the empty promise as he thrusted into her slowly.

“Dean!!” Y/N yelled at him and he let out a deep chuckle, driving his cock deeper into her, feeling the tight warmth of her pussy squeezing him. This continued for at least five minutes, he grazes oh-so-gently on her g spot each time.

She’d whine, indicating that she’s close. Part of her is enjoying the edging because of how it’s prolonging the love making between two of them but the other part just wants to empty herself all over Dean, show him how good he’s making her feel.

In a snap, his pace resumed to how it was previously and he began to thrust with increasing force the way he was prior. Y/N’s lips are parted, her eyes screwed shut from the pleasure that’s coursing through her body.

“DEAN!” Is all she could muster up, the coil in her stomach is ready to snap. His orgasm approaching closer. “Now be a good girl for me and look at me while cum all over that cock” He whispered into her ear lustfully, pushing her over the edge. Her eyes locked with his, her orgasm hitting her like a train.

“Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK DEAAANNNNN!!!” She came all over his cock, her orgasm taking her over in a white hot flash as he hit her g spot repeatedly.

Dean’s eyes widened in shock when Y/N’s eyes flashed white in the way it does when she used her powers as she rode out her high. Oddly enough, it got him going even more. He continued to pound into Y/N, moaning as he felt her tight muscles squeezing him in orgasm.

“Oh fuckkkkk baby. That’s it.” He moaned into her ear, beginning to tip over the edge. He picked up the pace, his cock throbbing inside her as he approached his release. A wicked thought crosses y/n’s mind and she decides to get some payback.

“You wanna cum don’t you? You wanna fill up my tight pussy, Dean?” She teased him in a sultry voice, tightening her legs around him. His gaze snapped to her in one of shock and lust, she just smirked at him and continued saying,

“Cum for me, charming. And then, you can bend me over in the bathroom and drill your cock into my tight aching pussy, let me watch you ravage me in the mirror, make me take it like a good girl. Then we can fuck in the backseat of the Impala, watch my ass bounce when I ride you.” She nibbled on his ear, letting out a seductive giggle.

Before adding in a low sexy tone, “Maybe then I can show you how good my mouth is gonna feel around your big hard cock…” She trailed off from whispering dirty sweet nothings when his cock began to throb inside of her.

“Oh FUCK Y/N!!!” He screamed out in ecstasy, spilling his seed into her pussy, his thrusts growing sloppy and slower. “Fuck! I thought I talked a good game. You got a wicked tongue, princess” He gasped, chuckling heavily as she smirks proudly. “You wanna feel it baby?” Y/N retorted with a wink and a coy smile.

He laughed at her perverse comment, feeling so blessed to know his girl is just as nasty as him. “I love you so goddamn much” He whispered, kissing her lovingly on her lips. Y/N returned the kiss passionately,

“I love you so much more” She whispered back against his lips. “I can win that fight” He smiled slyly at her as he pulled away. She lightly glared at him due to his untimely comment. “Too soon?” He snorted and she nodded as if it’s obvious. “Shut up and get me a towel, Winchester” She chuckled weakly and he laughed along obligingly, giving her a kiss on her cheek before getting the towel.

He wiped her off with the warm towel first, making sure to get all of the mess they both made and then proceeded to wipe himself off. Y/N grabbed the blanket from the end of the messed up bed, throwing it over the both of them as he sunk back into the bed next to her.

He wrapped his arm around her and she settled her head on his chest. The two hunters were practically mush on each other. The both of them remain in a comfortable silence, catching their breaths for a few moments as Dean rubbed his fingers up and down the curves of Y/N’s body, settling his hand in her hair, rubbing it gently with the tip of his fingers.

After about 5 minutes or so, Dean finally speaks up. “So..” He began, kissing her forehead. “So…” Y/N added breathlessly, smiling and looking up into his eyes, her head laid on his chest. “God you’re so beautiful” He whispered to himself, the love potent in his voice.

He then tucked a strand of her messed up hair behind her ear as the two lovers stared at each other lovingly. She tried to hide her blush but he noticed. “Even your blushing makes me hard” He groaned, earning a giggle from her. “Damn, you’re whipped” Y/N teased him, kissing his chest. “Shut up” Dean huffed, his freckle nose tainted a tinge of pink.

Going back to his lovestruck awe, y/n’s expression mirroring his. “You’re so adorable” He cooed lovingly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight of y/n, her hair messy, her mascara dripping. “I’m gonna say something and you better not make fun of me” Y/N warned him and he smirks. “No promises babe” He joked and she laughed.

“You wanna know why I’ve always called you charming?” She asked him. “Why’s that?” He asked softly, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “I think it’s because deep down, I always wished you’d be my Prince Charming” She admitted in a gentle tone and she could’ve sworn Dean looked like he was gonna burst into tears.

“Damn you’re whipped” He retorted jokingly, mocking her with her words from before, laying a kiss on her cheek. She giggled, sighing softly as she looked up into his eyes through her eyelashes.

She noticed the soft content look on his face as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I'm gonna save you, Dean, even if it’s the last thing I do. I promise.” Her voice cracked as tears prick at her eyes, her heart still aching. His face softened even more, a guilty pang at his heart.

“We don’t need to discuss that right now, baby. Let’s just live in the moment. Okay?” He whispered in a gentle tone, holding her tightly. She nodded sniffling a bit. “You know, I’m pretty sure Sam heard us” Y/N snorted, trying to lighten the mood. Dean chuckled, “Oh definitely, we’re not gonna hear the end of it.”

“The way I fucked you into oblivion. I’m sure all of South Dakota heard it” He added in a teasing tone, nuzzling his nose into her hair. A blush raised to Y/N’s face, her cheeks practically beet red. She turnt away, trying to cover her face but he grabbed her quickly by her wrists, turning her back around as he tried to move her hand away from her face while chuckling.

“Awwww don’t hide your face now, princess. Not when you just were all like ‘Just like that Dean just like that. Ohhhh godddd’ ” He threw his head back laughing as he jokingly mocked her moans just a couple minutes ago.

Another smack to his chest from his girl caused him to cackle even more. Come to think of it, the way Y/N smacked Dean’s ass around even before they even got together, he’s pretty sure her love language consists of physical violence in a loving way.

“Hey!” She exclaimed in mock offense. “I wasn’t the one that was like ‘Fuck you’re so tight baby’ “ She chuckled, mocking his groans earlier as he blushed. “Did you know your eyes flash white when you orgasm?”

Her mouth fell open at his comment, earning a snort of amusement from her lover. “They what?!” She exclaimed. "No, I didn't know that," Y/N muttered, embarrassed, turning away again. Dean laughed and pulled her back to look at him. "Heyyy, I'm not making fun. It's cute and honestly, really fucking sexy." He assured her, laying a kiss on her forehead.

“Did no one from before me tell you that?” He asked curiously. “No one ever mentioned it before," She said, leaning her head on his chest. "Then again, I usually close my eyes or bury my head in a pillow,” She explained.

“So I’m the only one who’s seen it” Dean observed, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Oh god, don’t get cocky again” Y/N playfully groaned. Dean feigned a dramatic gasp, earning an eye roll as he pressed his hand to his chest. "Me? Cocky? Never. I'm just stating the facts." He smirked, tracing his fingers up her spine.

“Well, you’re the first and last to see it. I’m just starting facts” Y/N retorted with a smirk, brushing her lips with his. “First and last, huh?” He chuckled, kissing her again. “Sounds like I’m pretty damn special, then.” He joked, making her roll her eyes again.

She pushed him back against the pillows, straddling his hips lazily. "Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky or I might change my mind” She said, leaning down to kiss his neck. A low growl rumbled from the back of his throat as she kissed his neck, his hands moving up to grip her thighs. "You wouldn't" he protested, fingers trailing up her sides.

She hummed against his skin, nipping gently at his collarbone. "You sure about that?" She teased, biting down a little harder, leaving a bruise in her wake. “Keep it up, I’ll make you scream again” He grunted, his grip on her thighs tightening. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure it’s my turn” Y/N retorted with sass.

His eyebrows quirk up, “You’re on sweetheart” He challenges, smirking at her. She takes him up on his challenge, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She returned the smirk, moving her mouth to his chest, leaving a trail of kisses down to his stomach. "We'll see about that" she murmured, running her tongue along his hip bones.

He threw his head back, moaning softly as she toyed with him, desperate whines leaving his throat. Round two was locked and loaded.

____________________________________________

•One Week Later

Sam was downstairs, his head buried in a book. Trying to find some way to get Dean out of the deal. Jo had resumed hunting with Ellen, the mother-daughter duo were finally on the same page since the Roadhouse burnt down. He had his headphones jacked in his ears in hopes it would drown out Dean and Y/N’s rather loud activities.

Sam missed Jo like crazy, his heart was screaming at him to call her, but his mind was telling him to let her go. After witnessing Y/N’s demise and now his brother’s inevitable demise, in his mind, he could bring nothing but harm to her. He was forcing himself to stay away from her and it tore into him from inside out.

The ringing over his phone cut his music, so he clicked the answer button, pressing it to his ear. “Hello?” Sam answered, “Hey Sam” Bobby’s voice came through the speaker. “Hey, Bobby,” Sam responded. “Whatcha’ you doing?” The older hunter asked. “You know, same old, same old” Sam sighed.

“You buried in that book again?” Bobby said in a knowing tone, causing Sam to gulp. “Sam, if you wanna break Dean free of that demon deal, you ain’t gonna find the answer is no book” Bobby chided him. “Then where, Bobby?” Sam grumbled. “Kid, I wish I knew,” the older man sighed. “So where’s your brother and Y/N?”

Sam internally groaned, hearing what sounded like a lamp get knocked over upstairs and Y/N’s giggle echo through the floorboards. His face scrunched up in disgust, “Pulling the electorate” Sam deadpanned, gagging. “What?” Bobby asked, confused. “Nevermind” Sam shook it off. “Well, you kids better pack it up. I think I finally found something”

Soon after his phone call with Bobby, Sam pushed himself up from the couch, tossing the book onto the coffee table but was stopped in his tracks when his phone rang again.

Glancing down at the screen, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Jo’s name flash on the screen. His heart thumped wildly in his chest with every second he debated what to do. He wanted so badly to answer, to hear her voice again. To talk to her.

But logic put him against it, she didn’t deserve the bad luck that radiated off of him. Sam refused to put her through that. She may have been his angel, but he was the boy with demon blood.

Reluctantly, Sam let the call ring into voicemail. As much as it pained him to do so, he needed to push her away. For her own safety. Even if it was killing him inside.

-

Sam waited until he assumed Dean and Y/N were done before knocking on the door. Rock music filled the room as the newly-coupled did the dirty, not seeing or hearing Sam enter. “Dean? Y/N? You guys conscious?” Sam asked, pushing the door open before peeking his head in.

“Bobby called, he thinks that maybe we co- Oh God!” Sam groaned in disgust, quickly shutting the door upon seeing a very naked Y/N on top of Dean. Quickly running his fingers over his eyes, trying to burn the image out of his mind, now he really wishes he had taken Jo’s call.

-

The Impala sped down the road, Dean wore a big smile on his face, Y/N was sprawled out in the back seat while Sam looked like he was ready to vomit. “Let me see your knife” He deadpanned to Y/N. “What for?” She mumbled confused as she began to take it out of her boot. “So i can gouge my eyes out” He quipped back, causing her to quickly retract her knife from him. Sam shot his brother and best friend a look of disgust as they snorted with amusement.

“It's a beautiful natural act of love, Sam” Dean shot back, flashing a wink at Y/N through the rearview mirror. She blew him a saucy kiss before saying, “Yeah, get with the program brother” Y/N patted his head before sinking back into the backseat. “That's part of you I never wanted to see, Dean and Y/N” Sam grimaced, the two chuckled as they shook their heads.

“Hey, I appreciate you giving us a little bit of quality time, man” Dean said to him, his mind still racing about his night with Y/N. The psychic bit her lip as she reminisced, the night seemingly having flashed past their eyes. She tried to ignore the nagging at the back of her mind about Dean's pending departure to hell but it wouldn't seem to let up. “Yeah, no problem,” Sam mumbled.

“Really. I gotta say, I was expecting a weary sigh or an eyeroll or something” Dean poked fun at his brother who just shrugged in return. “Same,” Y/N added. “Nonono, you guys deserve to have a little fun. At least now I don't have to witness your god awful pining for each other” Rolling his eyes, Dean huffed, “Oh, you can kiss my a-”

“Uh-uh, not another word, you don’t know what I went through for years of you guys being idiots” Sam interrupted, raising his hand to signal he did not want to hear whatever Dean had to protest with, causing Y/N to laugh in the backseat.

“Oh, come on. We weren’t that bad” Y/N argued. “Yes. Yes, you were” Sam deadpanned, “You guys were both so damn oblivious” They rolled their eyes in unison, “Takes one to know one, dipshit” Y/N mumbled, poking her tongue out at him before crossing her arms over her chest and sinking back into her seat.

Sam rolled his eyes at the comment, “Real mature, crackhead, real mature” He shot back sarcastically but there was no heat behind his words. He was happy that they both got their heads out of their arses and finally admitted their feelings, he was just hoping that they had enough time now.

“What’s Bobby got?” Dean asked, changing the subject. “Not much, crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Now it could be demon omens-” Sam answered with a deep sigh. “-or it could just be a bad crop and a bug problem.” Y/N suggested. “But it's our only lead,” Sam countered. “Any freaky deaths?” Dean asked. “Nothing Bobby could find. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's weird, fellas. I mean, the night the Devil's Gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?” Y/N asked, pushing herself forward to the back of the driver's side seat. “Seventeen” Sam and Dean responded in unison. “You'd think it'd be Apocalypse Now. It's been five days and bupkis” Dean scoffed with annoyance causing Sam and Y/N to frown, “What are the demons waiting for?” Y/N grumbled, pressing her chin on the leather seat.

“Beats me,” Sam sighed, “It's driving me crazy. “I'll tell you. If it's gonna be war, I wish it'd start already” Dean agreed. “I don't know, babe. Careful what you wish for” Y/N sighed, reaching over to gently rub his shoulder. The two lovers shared a look in the rearview mirror as Dean continued down the desolate road, headed over to Bobby’s house to pick up Quinn.

Just Outside Lincoln, Nebraska

The roar of the Impala and Harley filled the empty field. The only sounds in the early morning were the cicadas humming through their ears as Dean put Baby in park and Y/N peeled off her helmet after shutting off Quinns engine. Bobby was already at the field waiting for them, leaning against his truck. “You hear those cicadas?” Sam asked them as he and Dean stepped out of the Impala. “Well, that can't be a good sign” Dean answered with a mouth full of bacon cheeseburger as they all walked towards Bobby.

“No shit, Sherlock” Y/N grumbled, earning a playful glare from her boyfriend, in which she grinned in response. “So we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?” Bobby mused, leaning off of his truck. “Well, sold my soul. Got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol.” Dean shot back, causing Y/N to get that gaping feeling in her chest again and Sam to roll his eyes at his brothers lack of hope.

“So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here or what?” Sam asked, changing the subject, after noticing Y/N’s shift in facial expression. While Dean continued to munch away on his burger, he offered Y/N a bite but she simply shook her head so he just shrugged and continued eating.

“Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarms ground zero.” Bobby responded.

-

Y/N knocked her knuckles against the hardwood of the door to the house in the field, “Candygram!” The psychic shouted. Silence and no one in sight. A confused look overcame the group. No one came to the door. “Well, I guess nobody’s home” Dean muttered as he chewed on his last bite of burger.

Y/N shrugged and pressed her palm to the door, she took a deep breath, focusing her energy on the door as her veins began shining blue. Her eyes flashed a brighter white than usual as she used her powers to sense and listen for anything or anyone inside the house. It was eerily quiet. No souls, nothing. Just silence. Her eyebrows furrowed as she was met with no sign of life.

So instead, she sent a blast through the door, causing it to come clean off its hinges. The four hunters cautiously entered the house, peering into each room only to find them empty. “Where are they?” Y/N mumbled, trying to see if she could sense the family anywhere. “I don't know but it stinks like hell in here” Sam cringed, pressing his nose at the horrid stench lingering around the air.

“That’s definitely not a good sign” Dean grumbled in disgust as they quickly pulled out their guns, all gagging from the rancid scent of decay. Guns drawn, they cautiously crept through the house while trying their best to cover their faces from the overwhelming stench, the source of which seemed to be coming from the living room.

Y/N’s face twisted into a grimace as they entered the living room. They could faintly hear cicadas buzzing from the outside but that’s not what caught their attention. A putrid and foul aroma filled the air, stronger than the previous room as they came across three decomposing bodies. One man, one woman and one young boy.

Flies buzzed around the bodies, their faces sunken in. Bobby gasped with disgust as he rushed into the room. “Bobby, what the hell happened here?” Sam asked. “I dont know” Bobby grumbled as they began investigating. The sound of the deck creaking made Dean and Y/N’s ears perk up. Dean whistled lowly, causing everyone to go on guard immediately. Their eyes darted over to the deck as Y/N gestured she and Dean would go check it out while Bobby and Sam stayed on lookout.

They crept on the deck, armed to the T. Both peered around the corner cautiously, the sound of cicadas buzzing growing louder. They threw a suspicious eye out the door before stepping out. Their steps were light as they crept around, looking for any signs of danger and then a twig snapped. Both their heads snapped to the side an African-American man and woman attacked them.

The man grabbed Y/N, causing her to yell out. She quickly recovered, attempting to fight him off by elbowing him hard in his mid section as the woman kneed Dean where the sun didn't shine. Dean's hands flew to cup his manhood in pain, doubling over as his gun clattered to the ground.

While Y/N was backhanded by the man and was sent tumbling to the ground next to Dean. "SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!" "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST" Dean and Y/N exclaimed in excruciating pain, the psychic clutching her bleeding nose as Dean clutched his pearls.

“Isaac? Tamara?” Bobby said in recognition as he and Sam rushed out onto the porch from the sound of Dean and Y/N getting their asses pummeled. Isaac froze when hearing his name as he and his partner looked up in shock at the two new arrivals. Y/N groaned in pain as she sat up on her elbows, while Dean was still doubled over.

“Bobby? What the hell are you doing here?” Tamara gasped, a twinge of an English accent flowing from her words. “I could ask the same,” Bobby chuckled. “Hey, Bobby” Isaac chuckled, uncocking his gun to throw it back over his shoulder as he shook Bobby’s hand. “Uh, hello, bleeding here” Y/N quipped sarcastically, waving her hand in the air.

Dean grunted as he finally began regaining his composure, still clutching his balls. “Could you help a brother out?” he whined to Sam who chuckled at his very obvious pain. “Oh, shut it, jackass” Y/N mumbled as she wiped the blood from her nose.

-

Later that evening, they all ended up at Isaac and Tamara’s house. Dean was on the phone with the coroner, an ice pack resting nicely on his manhood while he sat on the couch as Y/N, Sam and Bobby were in the living room with Isaac and Tamara.

“Honey, where’s the Palo Santo?” Isaac asked his wife, “Well, where’d you leave it?” Tamara responded. “I don’t know dear, that’s why I’m asking” Isaac shot back in a slightly annoyed but gentle tone. “Palo Santo?” Sam asked curiously. “It’s holy wood. From Peru. It’s toxic to demons, like holy water” Tamara explained as she walked over to her husband.

“Keeps the bastards nailed down when you’re exorcising them” She further explained as she pulled out the Palo Santo, handing it to her husband. “Thank you, dear” Isaac smiled sheepishly at her. “You’d lose your head if it wasn’t for me” Tamara shot back jokingly at her husband while he smirked.

Y/N snickered from her spot on the couch as she watched the interaction between Isaac and Tamara, glancing over at Dean to notice his pained facial expression and the ice pack. “So long have you two been married?” Y/N asked curiously.

“Eight years this past June” Tamara replied, sharing a loving glance with her husband who smiled sweetly back at her. This didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N who had a glimmer of something deep in her eyes as she looked over at the couple and Sam had a thoughtful look on his face, both chuckling. Isaac pressed a kiss to Tamara’s forehead.

“The family that slays together-“ Isaac began. “-Stays together” Tamara finished it with a loving smile towards her husband. “Right, I’m with you there” Sam agreed, before asking, “So, how’s you get started?” The room fell silent by his question, Tamara’s loving gaze dropped to a saddened one.

Sam instantly felt bad by asking, “I’m sorry, he’s sorry. It’s not- it’s none of our business” Y/N apologized on Sam’s behalf as Bobby shook his head at them. Tamara held up her hand, gesturing it was fine. “No, it’s okay. It’s okay” she sighed and gave a soft nod.

Dean finally pushed himself up from the couch, still on the phone with the coroner’s tech as he wobbled over, the ice pack still pressed to his nards. “Well, Jenny, while I appreciate the offer for the appletini, I’m a taken man. Have a goodnight” He grimaced at the sound of the woman flirting with him and the pain in his manhood as he flipped the phone shut.

“What, no number?” Y/N teased him as he flopped back down next to her, earning a grumble from him. “You’re just jealous” he shot back at her, causing her eyes to narrow. “Ha, yeah, keep telling yourself that, darlin’” she smirked in response.

“Oh believe me, I will” he retorted, a smirk on his face. Tamara and Isaac exchanged an amused look at the bickering couple as Sam chuckled in response while Bobby simply rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Okay, you two, knock it off” Bobby grumbled from his seat in the armchair, causing both to immediately shut their mouths. “What’d the tech say?”

“Get this. That whole family, cause of death: Dehydration and starvation.” Dean revealed, causing everyone’s eyes to widen. “There’s no signs of restraint. No violence. They just sat down and never got up” Dean explained, “But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away” Bobby pointed out, the situation sounding way too unusual.

“Right, what is this? A demon attack?” Y/N added, equally stunned as she reached into the cooler to get another ice pack for Dean. Dean winced as Y/N pried his hand away and gently placed the ice pack onto his jewels, “Thanks” he muttered sarcastically as he began shifting in his seat and adjusting his position.

“If it is, it’s not like anything I ever say and I’ve seen plenty” Bobby stated, “Well, what now? What should we do?” Dean asked through gritted teeth. Despite the pain, Y/N’s hand began rubbing small circles onto his thigh in a subtle gesture of comfort as he continued to adjust in his seat.

“Uh, we’re not gonna do anything?” Isaac chimed in. Their heads snapped in their direction, “What do you mean?” Sam and Y/N asked in unison. “You guys seem nice enough but, this ain’t Scooby-Doo and we don’t play well with others” He responded bluntly.

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked, dumbfounded, “Well I think we’d cover a lot more ground if we worked together” Sam narrowed his eyes at them, “No offense, but we’re not teaming up with the damned fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place” Isaac shot back with frustration.

“No offense?” Dean scoffed as he began sitting up, his face becoming hard and cold. Y/N gave him a hard look to calm him down, gripping his thigh to stop him from escalating the situation as Tamara quickly intervened before anything got out of hand.

“Isaac, like you’ve never made a mistake” Tamara reprimanded her husband. “Oh, yeah. Locked my keys in the car. Turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world though” Isaac sassed, rolling his eyes as Dean and Y/N chuckled dryly and Tamara’s head dropped.

Bobby’s hand slowly went to the bridge of his nose in annoyance as Sam shot his brother a warning look to keep his mouth shut, “Alright, that’s enough” Y/N growled at him, a tight glare in her eyes as her hand gripped Dean’s thigh a little tighter, forcing him to stay seated.

“Guys, this isn’t helping, Y/N/N” Sam said calmly to her. Y/N closed her eyes and exhaled before looking at Sam, “Whatever” she muttered, taking a deep breath and slowly loosening her grip on Dean’s thigh while he continued to grumble under his breath.

“Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don’t know where they are. When they’ll strike. There ain’t enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On all of us” Isaac stated firmly as Bobby’s head dropped in shame, Y/N clenched her jaw along with Dean and Sam eyes softened with guilt.

“Okay, that’s quite enough testosterone for now” Tamara snapped, yanking Isaac by his hand and dragging him out of the room. The room fell silent after Isaac and Tamara disappeared into the kitchen. Y/N’s shoulders slacked as if all the fight had gone out of her in an instant and her hand slid from Dean’s thigh as he sat up on the cushion, crossing his legs carefully to reduce the pain on his balls.

-

It was now later that night, Y/N laid her head gently on Dean's chest as he wrapped his arms around to hold her close as the sounds of the TV playing a western movie softly echoed in the background of their motel room. His chin rested on her head as his eyes were fixated on the screen and Y/N's hand was idly tracing patterns across his chest, the sounds of his breath rising and falling calming her.

“How’re you feeling, sweetie?” She asked him gently, gesturing to his manhood. He sighed, "Still aching, honestly" he grumbled, "But I'll manage, he’s getting better" he mumbled. “Anything I can do to help?” Dean chuckled at her question and shook his head, "I’ll live" he replied.

"Just hope you still find me hot after this" he teased her, earning a gentle smack in the chest from her. "Ow, Jesus. Watch it, woman" he playfully muttered as she chuckled. "I always find you hot, you idiot" she retorted, shifting to bury her face in his chest as his shoulders began shaking with silent laughter.

"You always say the right things," he chuckled, rubbing her back as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But you know what might make me feel better?" he mused with a smirk appearing on his lips. She lifted her head up to look at him with a smirk of her own and raised an eyebrow curiously, "Oh yeah? And what's that, Mr. Winchester?"

He smirked in response and grabbed her hip with his free hand before pressing his lips to hers. Her lips responded to his as she reciprocated the kiss. His hand on her hip moved to grasp her butt and he lightly moved her to straddle him which caused her to release a small yelp in surprise against his lips before she moved her own hand up to cup his cheek, pulling away to look at him with lust-blown eyes.

"You sure, your little guy can take it?" she asked him, a sly smirk still on her lips. A sly smirk appeared on his face as he moved his hands from her rear to cup her hips, bringing her flush against himself, "Trust me, I'm sure he can handle it" he murmured as he nuzzled his face into her neck and began gently nipping on her sensitive flesh.

____________________________________________

The next day, Sam, Dean and Y/N were outside of a department store where a woman killed another woman just hours ago. Seeming over a pair of shoes, Dean was sitting outside on a bench munching on a burger as Sam and Y/N investigated the scene. The entire area flooded with cops and coroners.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked, annoyed as they approached him. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked with a mouthful of burger as he glanced at his brother, "I'm taking my lunch break. What’re you two doing?" he added, taking another bite of his burger just as Sam and Y/N shot him an un-amused look. "Werking" Sam deadpanned.

“Dead body. Possible demon attack, that kind of stuff” Y/N sassed, stuffing her hands in her pocket as Dean rolled his eyes and got up from the bench. He chucked his burger in her hands before he began to dramatically cough, clutching his chest. “Sam, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s just, I don’t have much time left and, uh-” He croaked before letting out an exasperated cough.

Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance as Sam let out a scoff, unamused. The two shared a sad look as guilt began weighing on Y/N’s chest, "Yeah, right. Alright, I’m sorry” Y/N sighed, “Apology accepted” Dean spontaneously recovered, attempting to take the burger back but Y/N yanked her hand away, taking a bite out of the burger.

He rolled his eyes at her, "You suck" he grumbled as she let out a scoff. "You should know" she retorted back skittishly with a mouth full of burger, earning a gag of disgust from Sam. “Guys, seriously!” Sam groaned dramatically.

“What?” they both shot back together like innocent children having been caught stealing cookies when they shouldn’t, glancing at him with wide eyes, causing Sam to roll his eyes in annoyance. “I really don’t get how you two manage to be adults with the attitudes of two children” he muttered, causing her to shoot him a glare.

Bobby emerged through the entrance, fully decked out in a suit and tie. His once shaggy greying hair, slicked back neatly. Y/N and Sam’s eyes widened at the sight as they choked back on a laugh while Dean’s jaw had nearly dropped down to the floor, craning his neck. "Whoa, looking spliffy, Bobby. What were you, a G-man?" Dean commented with a low whistle. “Returning from the DA’s office. Just spoke to the suspect.” Bobby told them as he fixed his crooked tie.

“Yeah? So what do you think, then? Was she possessed or what? “ Sam asked as Y/N wiped her mouth, handing Dean back his burger. “There's none of the usual signs. No blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid, just think she really wanted those shoes” Bobby explained, the three younger hunters shared a look of disbelief as he continued. “Spilled a glass of holy water on her, just to be sure. Nothing.”

“Well maybe she's just some random wack job” Dean suggested as he trailed his eyes down Y/N body. “If it had been an isolated incident, maybe. But first the family, now this? I don’t know, man” Y/N said, shaking her head. Her eyes met with Dean’s, catching him in the act of ogling her. Her eyes narrowed at him but he simply shot her a smirk in response, taking another bite of his burger. “Yeah, I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of em” Bobby agreed with Y/N. “Did you kids find anything around here?” He asked.

“No sulfur. Nothing” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Well, maybe something” Dean chimed in, crumpling up the now empty burger wrapping paper in his hand before pointing to the security camera. “See? I'm working” he sassed, patting Sam's shoulder as he winked at Y/N. This made the two roll their eyes in exasperated annoyance.

-

They were all now in the surveillance room. Sam and Y/N were sat side by side, her feet kicked up on the table while Bobby sat against it and Dean paced the room. “Anything interesting?” Dean asked them as he leaned between their shoulders. “I don't know yet. Might just be a guy,” Sam murmured as he rewinded the video. In the footage, a man began approaching the shopper. “Or might be our guy” Y/N added as she propped herself up to get a better look.

They watched the video intently, the man approached the shopper, pointing to the woman she killed. It seemed as though he was coercing her, the hunters shared a look as the video ended.

-

Sam and Y/N were now in town getting food, currently walking back to the Impala. Dean stayed back at the motel room and Sam tagged along, so they took Baby instead of Quinn. Y/N noticed from the corner of her eye that a young blonde woman was seemingly following her and Sam as they crossed the street. Sam had his head in his phone while Y/N's head was on a swivel, taking note of all the possible dangers around her.

She gave Sam an elbow to the arm to get his attention, “Dude, I think there’s something stuck to our shoes” she murmured to him. He looked up from his phone at her, puzzled as he watched her glance over her shoulder to the young blonde woman trailing behind them. He followed her gaze, catching the gaze of the blonde as she quickly looked away.

"Think she's following us?" he asked in a whisper. "Either that or she's checking out your ass” she whispered back to him, causing him to scoff and roll his eyes as they continued walking. As they reached the Impala, the woman suddenly disappeared. Nowhere in sight.

They both exchanged a look before Y/N shook her head. "Probably just my paranoia” she mumbled to him in an attempt to convince herself, they unlocked the car as Sam opened the driver's door, "I'll drive. You're tired." he mumbled, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. She nodded and got into the passenger seat without protest, buckling herself in as Sam started the car.

____________________________________________

“What time is it?” Bobby asked Dean as he yawned, the two were staking out a bar. “Seven past midnight” Dean responded, checking his watch. They were in Bobby’s truck now, “You sure this is the right play?” Bobby questioned tiredly. “No. But I spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug..” Dean groaned, taking up a picture of the mystery man from the video from his dashboard.

“…and supposedly he drinks at this stupid bar and- AH!” He exclaimed startled when Sam knocked loudly on the passenger side window, a wide smile on his face. Both Sam and Y/N burst out laughing at Dean’s fearful expression and yelp of surprise. They came back from doing research at a local library on Y/N’s bike, Dean and Bobby didn’t notice them since they parked behind.

Dean scowled at the two as he rolled down the window as Bobby rolled his eyes. “That’s not funny” Dean grumbled as Sam opened his door. “Yeah, okay” Sam snorted, pushing the seat forward, with Dean in it, so he and Y/N could climb in the back. “Alright, so, our John Doe’s name is Walter Rosen. He’s from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing a week ago” Y/N told them as she fixed herself in her seat.

"The night the Devil’s Gate opened?" Dean questioned, adjusting his seat back to its normal setting. "Yep,” Sam nodded. “So you guys think he’s possessed?” Dean asked, “Well, it’s a good bet” Sam shrugged. “So, uh, he just walks up to someone, touches them and they go stark raving psycho or something?” Y/N mumbled as she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets.

“Those demons that got out of the gate, they’re gonna be able to do all kinds of things we haven’t seen,” Bobby responded, “You mean the demons that we let out” Sam said bluntly, “Guys.” Dean interrupted upon seeing Walter hop out of a car across the street, right in front of the bar. “Alright, showtime” Y/N said firmly, cocking her gun.

“Wait a minute” Bobby stopped her, “What?” She scoffed, “What did I just say? We don’t know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know” Bobby reprimanded her. “Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?” Dean protested. “We’re not good dead, boy!” Bobby shot back firmly.

“We’re not gonna make a move till we know what the score is” He added in a tone filled with authority. Both Dean and Y/N seemed ready to protest again. Sam on the other hand, “Hey, Bobby, I don’t think that’s an option” The younger Winchester chimed in. "Why not?” Bobby asked, confused as they all turned their heads to look in the direction Sam was pointing at.

To see Isaac and Tamara getting out of their own vehicle, both heading towards the bar. "Damn it!” Bobby cursed, smacking the dashboard. They all shared a look before climbing out of Bobby’s truck, "Looks like we're doing this" Y/N grumbled as she shoved her gun into the back of her jeans, slamming the truck door shut.

The hunters stood outside the bar, watching through the windows as Walter made his way to the bar, ordering his drink. Tamara and Isaac were both sat at their table, sipping on their drinks. “How are we gonna do this?” Dean whispered to Y/N as they all ducked down, trying to watch and stay unnoticed.

Walter got up from his seat at the bar and began making his way to the bathroom. Isaac and Tamara kept a close eye on Walter, the male hunter pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek before getting up to follow Walter. Suddenly, a man grabbed Isaac as he was making his way towards the bathroom, snatching his flask of holy water away from his hand before tossing it onto the floor.

His eyes flashing black as he growled, “I don’t like hunters in my bar” indicating he was possessed by a demon. Everyone else in the bar's eyes flashed black, deeming them all to be possessed as Walter emerged from the bathroom, a sickening smirk on his face as he stalked over to them. Fearful expressions flooded Isaac and Tamara’s faces, not realizing exactly what they had walked into. Initially thinking it was only one demon they were dealing with. Not seven.

"Fuck” Sam hissed as they all watched the scene through the window. They all began banging on the door with their bodies but the demons had barred it shut from the inside. They heard Tamara’s screams as the others sadistically laughed.

“Move, move!” Y/N yelled at them to step back, placing her hand on the door. They all stepped back with their weapons drawn as she allowed the energy to flow through her body, her veins shining blue but it was no use, the door simply would not budge. Unknowingly, the door was barred with iron, one of the few things her power couldn’t break through.

“Motherfucker!” She shouted with fury. They could still hear the screams of Tamara and Isaac, the hunters grew more desperate as they kept trying to open the door. “I’ve got an idea!” Bobby said suddenly, rushing back over to the truck. The three younger hunters followed to suit.

“Bobby, what are you gonna do? Ram the place with your truck!?” Dean asked, growing impatient as they all hopped in, buckling up their seatbelts. Bobby started the truck with a firm nod, “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, son” He stated before flooring the pedal.

They all held on to whatever they could, gripping tightly onto the door and anything else they could for support as Bobby drove the truck straight into the bar, crashing through the door. Glass shattered everywhere like sharp rain before the truck came to a sudden halt and all four hunters quickly hopped out.

Pieces of debris and broken wood fell to the floor, the place was in complete disarray. All seven demons turned to them with wide black eyes, holding back a sobbing and hysterical Tamara. Isaac laid sprawled out on the floor in a pool of his own blood, flowing from his mouth.

They quickly emerged from the truck with bottles of holy water, spraying them at the demons, all hissing in sizzling pain as the water burnt their skin. Y/N began spraying at the demons holding Tamara. She was freed from the demons, screaming for her husband as Y/N tried to push her towards the truck. “No!! Isaac!! Baby, no!!!”

Y/N attempted to pull her away from him as Tamara kept struggling in her grip, trying to get to her husband. “No, no, no, he’s dead. We gotta go!” Y/N shouted back, her heart paining for the woman who desperately tried to get out of her clutches. Sam, Dean and Bobby continued to toss holy water at the screaming demons.

The scene was chaotic as they all fought against the demons while Tamira tried in vain to go back to her fallen husband. “Get in the truck!” Y/N yelled to the hysterical woman, “Tamara! In the truck!”

“Let go of me!!” She sobbed as she wrestled out of Y/N’s grasp but she grabbed hold onto her again, "Dammit, Tamara, get in the damned truck!" She finally used all her strength to toss Tamara into the truck, holding her into place. “Guys!!” Y/N shouted to Sam, Dean and Bobby. Whistling loudly so they can all get the hell out of dodge.

Without hesitation, Sam climbed into the back of the truck, taking over Y/N’s spot as she hopped back out and ran over to her bike parked outside. Bobby quickly went around and jumped into the driver's seat but Dean continued fighting Walter. “Dean!!” Sam shouted, holding onto Tamara, who was screaming and crying, holding onto her like a lifeline.

“I’ve got this!” Dean shouted back while taking on another demon that tried to overpower him. Sam cursed under his breath as Bobby gunned the truck's engine as he waited for Dean to quickly climb up into the truck, “Dean, get the fuck in!!” But Dean didn’t listen to them.

Quinn’s engine roared as Y/N sped towards the bar, ramming her bike straight into Walter. "Oof!" She yelped as she rammed Walter, successfully making him stumbled backwards as he growled in pain. Dean took this opportunity to snack Walter by his collar before tossing him into the tray of the truck.

Leaving him screaming and trapped since devils traps were spray painted around it. He quickly threw his leg behind Y/N, climbing onto her bike, “Go, go, go, GO!!” He yelled Y/N and Bobby to floor it, snaking his arms around her waist.

The two vehicles sped off, leaving the wreckage behind as the demons screeched in anger, unable to chase after them. In the back of the truck, Sam held onto Tamara as he attempted to comfort her but to no avail. "Shh it's okay, you're okay, I've got you, you're okay" He whispered to her as she clung onto him, completely broken by the scene she had witnessed.

Upfront, Y/N revved her engine and sped down the road as Bobby followed behind. Dean tightened his grasp around her waist, pressing his chest against her back as they both raced down the highway in the dead of night, the adrenaline from the fight still flowing through their veins.

But right now, she was thoroughly pissed with Dean for almost getting himself killed, just so he could trap Walter in Bobby’s tray. She could feel Dean’s chest rise and fall rapidly against her back as he exhaled a harsh breath. Although she was furious with him for trying to play the hero, she took note of how comfortable and safe she felt with his arms around her waist, their breaths in sync with one another.

____________________________________________

Now back at Tamara and Isaac’s house, Walter was tied to a chair, under a Devil trap while the sounds of the hunters arguing echoed through the house. “And I say we’re going back” Tamara insisted, furious. “Just hold on a second” Sam tried to reason with her, pleading. “I left my husband bloody on the floor!” Tamara exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

“Okay, I understand that, but we can’t go back” Sam stated firmly, emphasizing with the now widowed woman. “Fine, then you stay. But I’m heading back to that bar” Tamara pointed at him, “I’ll go with her” Dean began heading to the door.

“That place is crawling with demons! If we go back, we risk getting killed!” Sam protested, looking at his older brother with disbelief as Y/N stepped in front of him and shoved him harshly on his chest. “It’s suicide, Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, frustration in her voice as Dean stumbled back.

“So what? I’m dead already!” Dean shouted back. The room went silent for a moment, the only thing heard were Tamara’s muffled sobs. Y/N stared back at Dean with a look of disbelief, the gaping hole in her chest returning as her breath got caught in her throat.

Sam’s nostrils flared at the thought and the choice of words by his brother, “How are you gonna ‘em? You can’t shoot ‘em. You can’t stab ‘em. They’re not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!” Sam pointed out with anger in his voice. “I don’t care!” Tamara screamed. “You don’t even know how many of ‘em there are!” Y/N yelled.

“Yeah, we do,” Bobby interrupted, walking forward with a book in his hands. All eyes snapped over to him, “There's seven. Do you have any idea who we’re up against?” Bobby said, a mixture of fear and anger in his tone. “No. Who?” Dean shook his head, growing impatient. “The seven deadly sins. Live and in the flesh!” Bobby stated as Dean scoffed, a small smile playing on his face, “What’s in the box?” He chuckled.

His chuckles died in his throat as everyone looked at him with a deadpan expression, “Brad Pitt? Se7en? No?” He tried to see if anyone got his reference. Sam’s eye twitched with annoyance as Bobby chucked the book in his hands and Y/N smacked him upside his head. Gritting her teeth.

Dean scowled at the pain and rubbed the back of his head, “Ow! What the hell?!” He hissed, glaring at Y/N for slapping him. "That's for being stupid and almost getting yourself killed!" Y/N scolded him. Dean scoffed at his girlfriend berating him before opening the book, “What’s this?” He asked Bobby as he rifled through the pages.

“Binsfeld’s Classification of Demons. In 1589, Binsfeld ID’d the seven sins. Not just as human vices, but the actual devils” Bobby stated as the bells went off in Sam and Y/N’s head, realization dawning on them. “The family” They said in unison, putting two and two together of prior victims. Bobby nodded, confirming their suspicions.

“They were touched by Sloth” Sam shook his head as Y/N ran a hand over her mouth before she began toying with her necklace. “And the shopper?” She asked, “That’s Envy’s doing. And the customer we got in the next room” Bobby told them, pointing to the door Walter was behind. Confirming that Walter was possessed by Envy. “I couldn’t suss it out at first, until Isaac” He said, turning to Tamara.

She was rubbing the back of her neck, a look of disdain in her eyes. “He was touched with an awful guttony” She clenched her jaw at Bobby’s words. “I don’t give a rat's ass if they’re the Three Stooges or the Four Tops!” Tamara shouted at them, “I’m gonna slaughter every last one of them!”

“Well, you just can’t charge in like some kind of punk John Wayne” Sam retorted back. “John Wayne? That sounds like a pretty badass way to go out in my book!” Dean spoke with a hint of annoyance. This earned Dean another smack to the back of his head by his girlfriend, Dean gritted his teeth, attempting to protest but she shot him a nasty glare that made him shut his trap.

“We already did it your way! You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!!” Bobby snapped, getting up in Tamara’s face. Tamara flinched back due to Bobby’s booming voice as the three younger hunters fell silent. “These demons haven’t been topside in half a millennium! We're talking medieval. Dark Ages. We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna talk a breath…AND FIGURE OUT WHAT OUR NEXT MOVE IS!!!” The veteran hunter bellowed, absolutely fed up with the lack of logic being portrayed by Dean and Tamara.

Tamara gritted her teeth at him as Bobby let out a deep breath, the hot steam propelling from his nose. He felt bad for blowing up but it needed to be said. Silence filled the room for a few moments, the atmosphere thick with tension and anger. Tamara turned away, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she tried to keep it together. The trio’s heads were bowed like kids being reprimanded by their pissed off and disappointed father.

“I am sorry for your loss” Bobby apologized before trudging out of the room and into the chamber they kept the demon of Envy bound, Tamara’s eyes remained on the floor before she stalked out behind him. Leaving the trio all alone. Sam and Y/N shared a wide eyed look due to Bobby's explosive reaction before glancing back at Dean, then following behind Bobby with Dean.

“So you know who I am, huh?” Envy chuckled darkly as they all entered. “We do. We’re not impressed” Bobby snapped, his eyes narrowed to slits at the demon. “Why are you here? What are you after?” Sam demanded. Envy just smirked in return, causing Y/N’s blood to boil at the vial expression. She was confused as to why she couldn't feel that burning sensation at the back of his neck, typically caused by the presence of demons but she chose not to question it. Brushing it off as the demon's ancient and unusual species. “He asked you a question.” Y/N growled as Dean slammed his jacket down on the table.

“What do you want?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he leaned against the table. Envy began chuckling again, causing everyone to grow impatient so Y/N reached into her jacket. Retrieving a flask of holy water from her pocket before unscrewing it and began tossing it into the demon's face. The holy water splashed all over the demon's face, eliciting a hissing sound from its lips, as its flesh burnt from the contact. It growled through the pain and clenched its jaw as it spoke.

“We already have what we want” Envy hissed at the hunters. “What's that?” Dean asked, tilting his head. “We're out. We’re free” The demon stated as if it were obvious before smirking. “My kind we’re…everywhere. ‘I am legion, for we are many,'” Envy quoted as he laughed maniacally. Sam’s blood ran cold as he and y/n’s eyes connected. “So me, I'm just celebrating. Having a little..fun”

“Fun?” Sam scoffed as he cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet, others golf. Me?” Envy smirked, his eyes glancing over to y/n. “I like to see people's insides…on their…outsides” His eyes trailed down the psychic's body as he licked his lips. Y/N’s body stiffened at his lasering gaze, uneasiness filling her as she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Bile began to rise in her throat from the look Envy was giving her.

Dean's eye twitched as his fingers curled into a fist, his jaw clenching. He was about to pounce on the demon but was held back by both Sam and Bobby. “What, too pretty for you in one piece?” Y/N spat as she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by the disgusting and vile creature in front of her. “Oh no, on the contrary.” Envy practically purred. “I like my women feisty…and bloody” Its eyes raked down her form once more, causing her to grit her teeth and Dean to rile up more. Struggling against Sam and Bobby.

“You touch her, I swear to GOD, I will END you!” Dean continued to struggle against his brother and Bobby’s hold on him. “Dean! Relax!” Sam pleaded. Y/N could see the fire dancing in her lover's eyes, the pure rage radiating off of him as his nostrils flared with each harsh breath he took. “Relax, I’m not gonna touch her…not yet anyway” The demon replied with an evil smile as its eyes locked on her like a predator stalking its prey.

Hearing the demon's response only served to anger Dean even more as he fought back with more power, causing Sam and Bobby to put more force into restraining him. Y/N eyes widened, quickly moving around the men to place her hands on Dean's shoulders. "Charming, calm down!" She shouted as she shook him.

But her words went in one ear and out the other as he continued wrestling with his two brothers, desperate to get to Envy and rip his throat out. "Dean, STOP!" Y/N shouted desperately, her grip on his shoulders tightening as she shook him harder.

He stopped struggling for just a moment to look at her, his eyes still filled with anger, but seeing the pleading expression on her face made him pause. He was still breathing heavily, his nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched, but he stopped fighting against Sam and Bobby.

Tamara’s gaze remained on the demon, filled with vengeance as she leaned down, her hands pressed against her knees. “I’m gonna put you down like a dog” She spat at him, like venom burning her tongue. “Please” Envy let out a bark of laughter, finding Tamara's threat humorous. “You really think you’re better than me?" The demon sneered, its twisted smirk never leaving its face.

“Which one of you cast the first stone, huh?!” Envy shouted as everyone narrowed their eyes at him, “What about you, Dean and Y/N?” He turned his attention to the elder Winchester and the psychic, Dean’s arm draped around Y/N’s waist. “You two are practically the walking billboards of gluttony and lust”

The couple smirked in response, sharing a knowing look as Dean playfully caressed Y/N’s ass. Earning an eye roll from her before Envy turned his attention to Tamara. “And Tamara. All that wrath? Ooh, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk” Tamara growled, gritting her teeth as the demon continued to taunt and mock her.

“It’s the reason you and Isaac became hunters in the first place, isn’t it?” Her hands trembled with anger as they balled up into tight fists at her sides. “It’s so much easier to drink in the rage…than to face what happened all those years ago” This made Tamara snap.

Tamara yelled in anger and lunged at the demon, grunting as she punched him across his jaw, over and over. “Tamara!” Bobby shouted as he and Y/N tried to separate the enraged hunter from the smirking demon. Bobby and Y/N managed to pull Tamara backwards as Sam continued to restrain a still agitated Dean who was glaring at the smug and unharmed demon, laughing.

“My point exactly. And you call us sins” Envy sneered. “We’re not sins, man. We are natural human instinct! And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals” He further continued to berate them. “Horny, greedy…hungry..” He scoffed as Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “..violent animals.” He leaned forward.

“And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals too” Envy finished with a deadly whisper before looking behind him. “And the others? They’re coming for me” He said smugly, leaning back into his chair. Dean smirked at his cocky smile, “Maybe” He shrugged before leaning down to get in his face. “But they’re not gonna find you, cause you’ll be in hell” Dean’s words made the demon’s smug look drop.

“Someone send this son of a bitch packing” Y/N sneered as Tamara smirked, “My pleasure” She sneered, accepting the book with the incantation from Bobby. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus” Envy began shaking, groaning and grunting in his chair as he trashed around. “Omnis satanica potestas” Tamara continued reciting the exorcism, her voice filled with determination and a sense of satisfaction.

Sam, Dean, Bobby and Y/N walked out the room as Tamara continued to chant. Envy screaming his head off. “Well, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about hunting them,” Bobby told the trio. “What does that mean?” Sam asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. Bobby sighed deeply, resting his hands on his hips. “I think maybe this joker’s right. They’re gonna be hunting us and they’re not gonna quit easy”

“Great. Awesome. Fantastic” Y/N muttered sarcastically as Dean nodded. “You guys, why don’t you take Tamara and head for the hills? I’ll stay, slow them down, buy a little time” Dean offered. Sam and Y/N’s head snapped to Dean’s direction. “Fuck no” Y/N immediately protested, her eyes narrowing at her boyfriend as she shook her head. “You’re insane, Dean. Just forget about it, okay?” Sam snapped at his brother.

“They’re right.” Bobby chimed in as Dean scoffed, “They’re six of em, guys. We’re outmanned, we’re outgunned. We’ll be dead by dawn” Dean exclaimed, pointing out the obvious. “Maybe, but there’s no place to run that they won’t find us” Bobby shot back. Sam and Y/N shared a look before letting out a frustrated sigh.

Y/N clapped her hand on Sam’s shoulder before snaking her arm around his waist to the side before she turned to face Dean, wrapping her free arm around his shoulder. “Look, if we’re all going down, we’re going down together, alright?” She stated, firmly. Sam shot Dean a pleading look as he snaked his arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

Dean looked down at his girlfriend for a moment, a hint of a smirk tugged on his lips before his eyes flickered over to his brother. Both Sam and Y/N were sporting their classic puppy dog eye look. He knew there was no use in arguing with them, especially when they pull out the big guns to get their way. So instead he nodded his head in agreement and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer into his side. “Well, let’s not make it easy for them”

Envy let out one last scream as the house shook, the candles on the table blowing out. Indicating the demon was now expelled back to hell, inside, Tamara shut the book before exiting the room. “Demon’s out of the guy.” She stated. “And the guy?” Sam asked. “He didn’t make it,” Tamara said without a care in the world.

Tamara’s blunt remark made the hunters' faces harden upon hearing the news about the host’s demise. “Damn it” Y/N hissed as she looked away and leaned into Dean’s side.

-

Some time had passed and Y/N took the liberty of disposing of the body. She was now digging a hole in the back of Tamara’s house to bury it. Dean was outside, watching over her as she knelt by the shallow grave. His arms were crossed over his chest as his eyes were fixed on her, his sharp green eyes never leaving her form, studying her every movement. He offered to help her but she denied any help, which he respected, not wanting to push any boundaries.

She could feel his eyes on her, so she spun around, shooting him a quick thumbs up. In a way of saying, ‘I’m fine, you can go back inside now’ Dean huffed out a small chuckle. He knew she was fine. But as a man, and her man, he was protective over her. But he also knew how independent and capable she was of handling herself and this situation. So, he nodded back at her, blowing her a kiss before he reluctantly went back inside the house.

Y/N breathed out heavily before turning to face the poor guy. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this, man” She apologized to the dead host, Walter Rosen as she grunted, lifting him up gently. Y/N lifted Walter’s body, resting it over her shoulder. She tried her best to be careful, to be gentle, knowing that the man was no longer here to feel it. But she couldn’t help but wince and feel sympathy as she tried with all her strength to carry and lay him down in the shallow grave she dug for him.

Walters arm poked out from under the tarp, her brows furrowed when she saw an unfamiliar symbol etched into his arm. Almost as if it was burnt in. She knelt to take a closer look, pulling the tarp down to examine the symbol etched into the host’s arm. It was an odd-looking symbol that she had never seen before. It was almost like a cross, but with extra markings and symbols on each end. Her fingers hovered over the mark for a moment before finally touching it, her eyes narrowing as she felt a slight sting on her fingertips from the heat.

The mark was hot, but not scorching hot. It was enough to cause a slight pain in her fingertips as she touched it. Y/N quickly retracted her hand, rubbing her fingertips against her jeans before looking back at the symbol, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had never seen this mark before. It was definitely not a demon sigil. She took a mental note to mention this to the others.

Y/N took one last look at the symbol etched into Walter’s arm before covering it back up with the tarp, making sure to leave some of it free as she rose to her feet. She stood there for a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity, wondering what the symbol could mean.

With her mind still occupied with questions about what she had just seen, she quickly dusted off her hands on her jeans, digging into her duffel bag laid right besides her. She retrieved the salt from her duffel and began salting Walter’s body. As she salted the body, something caught her eye. Something very odd this time. A blue glow omitted from under the tarp, on the side of Walter’s waist.

Y/N paused in her movement, her hand that held the salt bag hovered in the air for a moment as her head snapped in the direction of where she had seen the blue glow. Curiosity and confusion took over her as she slowly crouched down and placed the bag of salt on the ground. She slowly and gently pulled the tarp to the side, careful not to make too much noise or disturb the body as she tried to see what that blue glow was.

Upon lifting up Walter’s shirt, Y/N found a knife. Y/N let out a small gasp upon seeing the knife. She slowly reached out and picked it up, her fingers wrapping around the handle as she held it up carefully. Y/N’s eyes widened as she stared at the knife in surprise. It looked old, ancient even. But the craftsmanship of it looked amazing, almost like an heirloom.

She ran her thumb against the cold and smooth, silver blade, being mindful of the sharp edge. The blue glow of the knife’s blade was faint but noticeable enough. It was a beautiful blade, but the question was, where did it come from? And why was it glowing?

She let out an audible gasp as a weird chill ran up her arm, her own veins glowing blue. She didn’t intentionally focus her power onto the knife so the fact that it somehow connected to her, bewildered her. A million thoughts, questions, and scenarios ran through her mind as her eyes stayed glued on the glowing blue veins that now travelled up her arm. Something in her was telling her that something wasn't right with this knife.

The fact that it connected to her should've been enough to tell her that it was more than just an ordinary weapon or heirloom. But another side of her mind was telling her that it somehow found her. Her fingers curled around the handle of the knife as she glanced down at Walter's corpse. Y/N gingerly stuck it into her high leather boots before drenching his body in accelerant.

With the corpse doused in fuel, Y/N stood up and grabbed the matches from one of her jacket pockets. She struck a match, throwing it into the grave before stepping back, watching the body in the pit engulfed in flames. Once she finished setting the man’s body ablaze, she picked up her duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder, turning to head back to Tamara’s house, her mind still puzzled and intrigued by what she had just seen and experienced.

Once she stepped up the porch and into the house, she found Sam filling up flasks with holy water and Dean loading up a shotgun. The brothers seemed to have paused in their conversation as she walked in, their curious gazes landing on her when they noticed the look of despair on her face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Is everything okay?” Dean asked, concern clear in his voice as he set down the shotgun and took a step towards her. “Uh…yeah- yeah” Y/N cleared her throat, giving Dean a tight smile before tossing her duffel on a table. “Um, Sam. Can you look something up for me?” She asked her friend as she took up a paper from the table and a pen from the pencil holder. Quickly sketching out the symbol she saw on Walter’s hand.

Sam looked away from refilling the flasks after Y/N spoke to him. He furrowed his brows as he took the paper from her, his eyes studying the symbol on the paper. He looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “Where’d you see this?” Y/N leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looked down at the floor. She let out a small sigh before looking up straight into Sam’s eyes and replying. “It was etched into Walter’s arm right before I burned him.”

Dean’s brows furrowed, “That’s all you saw?” He asked, having a feeling she knew more than she was letting on. Y/N’s lips pursed together as she let out a short huff, her gaze shifted to the floor for a moment before meeting his gaze again. She contemplated whether telling them about the knife or not but Dean could read her like a damn book, so there was no point in hiding it. “Actually, I found something else”

Both brothers’ gazes locked on her as she hitched one foot up. Reaching into her boot to retrieve the knife. She held it up, the ancient dark knife in its original form as she twirled it between her fingers. The blade of the knife still glowed blue and the dark iron seemed to almost absorb the light from the room, making it even darker. Sam and Dean stared at the knife in Y/N’s hands, their eyes widening in surprise and slight caution at the sight of it.

“Found it on Walter” She stated before tossing it onto the table, the iron hit the table with a loud thud, the light in it dying as soon as she didn’t have her hands on it anymore. Dean and Sam both took a closer look at the ancient-looking knife, examining its features. Dean stepped forward, picking the knife up and holding it in his hand. He turned it over, observing every detail. “The fuck is this?” The elder Winchester scoffed.

“I have no idea,” Y/N shrugged, her eyes fixed on the knife in Dean’s hand. “And when I first touched it, It “activated” my powers without me trying, shit was weird.” She made quotation marks with her fingers as she explained. “What do you mean it ‘activated’ your powers?” Sam furrowed his brows, turning to face her. “You didn’t do it intentionally?”

She shook her head as she pursed her lips, “That’s what I’m saying” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look at her answer. Their expression and body language showed signs of alarm and concern. They both knew better than anyone else about Y/N’s powers and how they could change the outcome of any situation.

So the fact that the knife somehow activated her powers without her intention was incredibly worrying. Before anyone can say anything else, J.B. Burnett’s ‘I Shall Not Be Moved’ started playing on the radio out of nowhere. The device turned on spontaneously by itself, startling everyone. Their heads snapped over to the small old box. The trio exchanged an alarmed look as Dean quickly snatched up his shotgun. “Here we go”

The door and windows were salted to the T, Bobby and Tamara were stationed at the back of the house while the trio readied themselves in the front. Dean and Sam took their positions by the windows and doorway, weapons at the ready. Y/N stayed behind them, positioned in the centre of the room. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, waiting for any signs of movement, any sound or feeling that would indicate the demon’s presence.

“Tamara!! Tamara!! Help me!! Please!!” The sound of Tamara’s recently deceased husband, Isaac’s, voice boomed from outside. Pleading for her help. Y/N stiffened upon hearing the voice of the dead man, her heart clenching in her chest. She could only imagine the look on Tamara’s face, knowing the sound of her husband’s voice must’ve pained her all the more.

“Tamara!!” Isaac shouted, his bloodied hand smacking across the hard wooden railing as he crawled up the steps to the porch, “I got away!! But I’m hurt bad!! I need help!!” Isaac pleaded, Tamara was sobbing and shaking in her place at the back of the house. Her hand clutching at the Palo Santo stake, “It’s not him. One of those demons is possessing his corpse” Bobby tried to drill it into her head, assuring her that whatever was calling out to her was not her husband.

Dean clenched his jaw as he listened to the demon-possessed corpse shout out for help, his grip on the shotgun tightening. He glanced back at Tamara, noticing her shaking and crying. His expression softened as he felt sympathy for her, knowing damn well how she must have felt hearing her husband’s voice. He shot a quick look at Sam and Y/N before focusing back on the door again.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she glanced at Tamara. She could understand the woman’s desperation, the desire to go out and help her “husband”. But as she continued listening to the “voice” of Isaac, she knew it wasn’t him. It was a demon, a malicious creature disguised as someone’s loved one for the sole purpose of getting to them.

The demon knocked his knuckles against the door, “Baby! Why won’t you let me in?! You left me behind back there. How could you do that?!” Tamara’s sobs grew louder as they all listened to the demon’s desperate pleas, the words cutting deep into the woman’s heart. She stumbled forwards from her spot, desperate to get to the door, until Bobby’s firm hand landed on her arm, holding her in place. “We swore at that lake in Michigan, remember? We swore we would never leave each other!”

“How did he know that?!” Tamara sobbed as Bobby kept a firm gaze on her, “Steady, Tamara. Steady, steady” Bobby warned her, caressing the heartbroken woman’s shoulder as she sobbed. “You’re just gonna leave out here? You’re just gonna let me die?” Tamara’s body trembled desperately, her entire being wanting to get to the door and let her husband in, reminding herself that it wasn’t him.

“I guess that’s what you do, dear” The demon sneered. “Like that night those things came to our house. Came for our daughter. You just let her die” Those words made Tamara snap once again, “You son of a bitch!!” She screamed as she pushed the door open, attacking the demon possessing her husband's corpse.

“Tamara, no!!” Bobby shouted as he rushed forward. But it was too late, Tamara and the demon had gone tumbling down the back porch, breaking the salt line to the back door. “You’re not ISAAC!!” She bellowed as she drove the Palo Santo stake into his chest. With Tamara outside and the five demons storming into the house, there was nothing holding them back from attacking the group inside anymore.

As the larger one headed straight towards Bobby, a nasty smirk on his face. He paced towards the veteran hunter, who wore a feigned look of fear. The demon stopped in his tracks when he realized he had been stuck in a devil's trap. Bobby chuckled maliciously as the demon looked down at him fearfully, “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son” He smirked as he got out his book with the incantation.

While Bobby was exorcizing Gluttony, Dean had been caught up with his own demon. A petite blonde woman, dressed quite provocatively. His eyes widened as he tried to douse her in holy water but she caught his hand midair, a lustful smirk plastered across her face as she backed him up into a corner. “I suppose you’re Lust,” Dean pointed out, visibly gulping.

Lust chuckled, “Oh, baby, I’m whatever you want me to be.” She purred, her voice dripping with sultry and desire as she stepped closer to Dean. She moved so close that her body was flushed against his, her hand pressed against his bare skin at the neckline of his shirt. He tried to toss her off but the brute raw strength from the demon overpowered him.

“Yeah, alright. Just stay back!” Dean grunted as he tried to fight off of her grip. “Or what?” Lust challenged, running her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. The demon’s touch made Dean feel a sudden desire to kiss her, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of even laying eyes on someone who wasn’t Y/N. He grinned with relief when he saw the love of his life appear behind the woman.

Y/N snuck up behind Lust, her eyes focused on the demons back. She gripped the handle of the old knife tightly in her hand, her fingers digging into the smooth metal. Lust glanced behind her, sensing the presence of something or someone. Before she could turn around, Y/N jammed the blade right into the demon’s back. She twisted the knife and pulled it free, causing the demon to screech out in pain.

“He’s got a crazy girlfriend who’s gonna kill you, bitch!” Lust spun around to face Y/N, her eyes fixed on her. She winced in pain and anger as she clutched her fresh knife wound, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Y/N. “You little—“ She growled, her eyes glowing black, she screamed as she smoked out through the host’s mouth.

Y/N raised the hand that held the glowing blue knife, looking at it as it trembled. The power of the knife was definitely making itself known. Dean pushed the demon's body aside and made his way over to Y/N, “You okay?” He asked, his eyes scanning over her for any signs of injury. She nodded frantically as she rushed over to the host’s body to check if she had caused the death of the innocent girl the demon was wearing.

Her jealousy of seeing the demon touch Dean had gotten the better of her. Something she had never done before. It was unlike her and it scared her, a slight wave of relief filled her when she saw that the girl’s body had already had a bullet wound right to her heart.

Dean watched her from where he stood, noticing how she checked the body for any signs of life. He knew she was a bit out of character, but he understood why. Anyone in Y/N’s shoes would be. As she confirmed that the girl was already dead, his gaze softened more as he moved over to her, “Hey,” He said softly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, “It’s alright, you didn’t kill her.”

“She was already dead” He reminded her gently, his voice soothing and reassuring. “You didn’t do anything wrong, princess.” He took the knife from her hand and examined it. He studied the markings carved into the blade, running his thumb carefully over the carvings. “This thing is giving your powers a boost,” He said, looking back up at her. “Are you sure you’re still in control of yourself?” He asked, his concern still present in his features and tone.

Y/N looked offended as Dean asked this, she was ready to snap at him for his question when the house shook, having no time to answer him. “Sammy!” They shouted in unison, the sound of a door blasting down. The door to the room Sam was in. They darted towards the room, adrenaline pumping through their veins at the thought of the younger Winchester being attacked.

They stumbled into the room, seeing the broken door on the floor. Sam was surrounded by three demons who had meticulously avoided the devils trap. “Come on, you really think something like that is gonna fool someone like me. I mean, me?” The demon smirked at Sam as Dean and Y/N emerged behind them. “Let me guess, you’re Pride” Sam sneered at the demon.

The demon smirked, spinning around to face Dean and Y/N as Sam darted over to them, standing at one side of Y/N while Dean stood on the other. The demon raised his hand to the ceiling with a smirk, causing the devil's trap at the top of the ceiling to be broken into nothing but rubble. “Mm. The root of all sin. And you two, are Sam and Dean Winchester. And you…are little miss Y/N L/N”

Y/N bristled immediately, her eyes narrowing at the demon with defiance. “Those are our names, don’t wear it out now, honey” She snarked, her lip curling in annoyance at the demon’s tone as Sam’s face dropped and Dean’s jaw clenched.

The demon chuckled and stepped closer to them. “That’s right, I’ve heard of you. We’ve all heard of you two” He gestured between Sam and Y/N. The prodigies. The Boy and Girl King and Queen.” Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise, his eyes fixing on the demon. “I’m sorry, what?” He asked, his tone puzzled and alarmed as he looked between Y/N and the demon.

Then shooting a questioning look in Dean’s direction. Y/N was visibly taken aback, her breathing becoming shaky as her eyes darted around. The word ‘King and Queen’ stuck in her mind. “Looking at you two now, I gotta say, don’t believe the hype.” Pride snapped, “You think I’m gonna bow to cut-rate, piss-poor humans like you? I have my Pride after all”

The air was thick with tension as the demon taunted them, his words cutting through the silence and adding to the already palpable stress in the room. Dean was ready to lunge at the demon, to hell with whether he died or not. But Y/N snatched him by his arm, yanking him back harshly. Looking at him as if he were bonkers for attempting to lunge at a demon completely unarmed. Her fingers gripping tightly at the old blue glowing knife between her fingers.

“Relax, sweetie,” She hissed, her voice firm and low, her gaze locked on him intently. He opened his mouth to reply, but she silenced him with a cold glare, silently warning him to shut his damn gob. The demon chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with malice as he watched them.

“Now with your yellow-eyed friend dead. I guess I don’t really have to do a damn thing, do I?” Pride smirked, whistling for his two friends to begin attacking the trio. Y/N, Sam, and Dean jumped into action, ready to take on the three demons. Pride simply stood back as he watched his companions attack. “Have fun, kids” He drawled, a smirk resting on his face as he observed the fight.

Y/N clutched the knife as Sam and Dean dodged attacks from the two demons, she aimed for Pride with her own. Pride dodged the knife easily, his reflexes quick and agile. “Ah-ah-ah, I’m not playing that game with you, little miss” He sneered as he evaded her every attempt to stab him, enjoying the frustration on her face.

Y/N growled, ducking to swiftly swing her feet around, knocking Pride off of his own feet. Unbeknownst, Dean was tossed into the wall by another demon and Y/N straddled Pride and dug the knife into the demon's shoulder. Pride screamed in pain, reeling back from Y/N as she pressed the knife into his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, the holy power behind the weapon was more than he imagined.

“You little—“ He grunted, his eyes narrowed as he clutched his wounded shoulder. The demon began smoking out through its host’s mouth as Dean recovered from being thrown into the brick wall. He staggered to his feet, rubbing his head and wincing at the pain. His eyes widened at the sight of his girlfriend with a knife in the demonic shoulder of a powerful and ancient demon, now limp in her arms.

He swiftly dodged a punch from the demon when suddenly, an familiar blonde woman (Ruby) appeared through the door. Wielding a very similar knife to the one Y/N had found, Y/N had pushed herself up from her feet, only to be shoved back down by Ruby.

As Y/N stumbled to the floor, her head spun, causing her vision to blur for a moment from the immense power the knife was taking out from her. It took a few seconds to clear, once her vision cleared, she looked around, her heart stopping when she saw Sam and Dean both trapped, pinned against the walls by the two other demons.

“NO!!” She cried out, only for Ruby to stab one of the demons, holding up Sam from behind, the corpse lighting up a light orange color from the stab wound and eyes. Dropping limp to the floor. She quickly swung around and stabbed the demon holding Dean up through the back of its neck, retracting her blade from its neck. Both Winchester brothers gripped their throats as air filled their lungs back up.

Y/N scrambled back into her feet, everything happened so fast she barely regained herself, her breath coming in and out rapidly as she rushed over to the brothers. Her hands rested on both their cheeks. “Who the fuck are you?” Dean spat at the blonde woman. “I’m the girl that just saved your asses” Ruby smirked, The two brothers shared a look at the blunt and harsh response, Sam nodded reluctantly at the girl.

“Yeah, fair enough,” He muttered. Y/N was torn between being grateful that she saved the brothers and being suspicious of this random girl until realization dawned on her. “You’re the chick that was following us earlier” Y/N pointed out with a hard expression, now remembering where she knew her face from. Ruby’s cocked a brow and her eyes flickered down to the still glowing ancient knife in Y/N’s hand.

“I’d be careful with that if I were you, Y/N” She smirked, gesturing to the knife before shooting Sam a wink. “See you around, Sam” Y/N’s expression faltered, the comment about the knife was odd to her, especially since Ruby knew her name. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, gripping the knife tighter in her fingers.

“How did you—“ Y/N gasped. Sam raised an eyebrow as the girl left, an odd look on his face. He ran after her, shouting, “Wait!” but she had already disappeared. Y/N’s eyes snapped over to Dean, who was nursing a possibly concussed head. Dean rubbed the back of his head, groaning as he leaned against the wall, his face pale and sweat beading from his forehead. “Ah, man, this hurts like a mother…” He muttered, his vision still a bit hazy.

Y/N stepped towards him, her eyes filled with worry, “Come on, sit down” She ordered, moving closer to support him as she gently guided him towards the wall at his back, he slumped against the wall with a thud. “It’s okay, baby. It’s over”

She pulled his head to her chest, Dean made no attempt to unbury his head from between her boobs as her eyes remained on the deceased bodies. The knife she had somehow..exorcised two demons but the one that girl had full on killed them. Her mind swirled with the new revelation as Dean relaxed against her chest.

Dean let out a low, satisfied hum as he buried his face between her chest, his nose nuzzling between them as he inhaled her scent. “Mmm, you’re comfy” Dean mumbled, his voice muffled. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he leaned in closer to her, relishing in the warmth he felt from her body. The feeling of her body against his helping to ease his pounding head.

____________________________________________

The next morning, Sam, Dean and Y/N laid the bodies of the four of the fallen hosts that were possessed by the seven deadly sins in a bigger shallow grave. They had examined the bodies to see the symbol Y/N found on Walter was etched into everyone else’s arms.

Their eyes glanced over to Tamara in the distance, standing by a wooden pier with her husband’s body wrapped up in a white sheet. Flames engulfed him as she gave him a proper Hunter’s Funeral. A final farewell to her lost loved one.

“Think she’s gonna be alright” Sam asked no one in particular after salting the bodies and drenching them in accelerant. “No, definitely not” Y/N answered honestly. Her heart gave out to the fellow female hunter, having lost her husband. Her mind reminded her that the clock was ticking with Dean as she clenched her fists. Bobby paced over to them with a look of frustration.

“Well, you look like hell warmed over” Dean commented, “Well, you try exorcising all night, see how you feel” Bobby grunted, rubbing his chin. “Any survivors, Bobby?” Sam asked. “Just the heavy guy, he’ll make it. Lifetime of therapy bills, ahead, but still” Bobby sighed. “Well, it’s more than you can say for these poor bastards,” Dean muttered, gesturing to the four corpses.

Y/N frowned as she laid eyes on them all, a feeling of dread building up when she looked at the two that were possessed by Pride and Lust. She had no idea what that knife she found on Walter or the one Ruby had done and it gnawed at her. “Bobby, these knives…what kind of blade can exorcise a demon? Much less…kill one?” Y/N asked.

“Yesterday I’d have said there was no such thing” Bobby shrugged as Y/N took the old knife out of her boot. Bobby gave the weapon a good once over, his eyes narrowing at it in thought. “I’ve never seen a knife like this before” He said, his voice low. He ran his thumb over the markings on the blade, his face contorting in thought.

“How the hell did you even get this, anyway?” Bobby asked, looking over at Y/N curiously. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands curling into fists as she avoided eye contact with him. All she wanted was to get her hands back on that knife, to have it close by her side. “Walter, the guy Envy possessed. Found it on his body when I was gonna burn him, it just started glowing” She told him firmly, itching to take it back from Bobby.

“And you took it?” Bobby raised an eyebrow, his voice stern. He knew that taking random items, especially magical or cursed ones, was risky. But she had already taken it, that was done and over with. “Well excuse me, it’s not like I could exactly ignore it!” Y/N defended. Bobby didn’t seem convinced by her explanation, his face still stern. “You should’ve left it alone.” He scolded, shaking his head. “You have no idea what this thing is”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest as Sam and Dean pursed their lips. Not butting into the reprimanding Bobby was fishing out to her. “Well it saved our asses, twice. So I’m gonna hang onto it, thank you very much” She snapped, snatching it back from Bobby. This surprised everyone, her snappiness was a trait they were used to but out of nowhere and uncalled for? It raised alarms in their heads.

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by her outburst. He’d never seen Y/N so defensive or stubborn about a simple object. Sam and Dean shared a concerned look, both of them knowing how out of character she was behaving.

Bobby gaped at her snatching back the knife, his eyes wide in surprise. “What’s going on?” Bobby started, his voice serious and sharp, Y/N glared at him as he glanced over at Sam and Dean, shooting them a look that said, ‘Do something!’

Sam nodded in agreement, his expression filled with concern. “Y/N/N, maybe we should listen to Bobby on this one.” He chimed in, his voice soft and reassuring, trying to ease the tension. Dean gently took Y/N’s hand into his, attempting to pry the knife away. “How ‘bout we let Bobby do his research on it and if it’s proven to be safe, he’ll give it back to you, huh?” Dean suggested, pleading with his eyes.

Y/N let out an impatient growl. She couldn’t explain why, but the thought of giving the knife away made her stomach twist and churn. She looked at Dean, her eyes flashing with slight annoyance but it quickly softened when she made eye contact with him. “Fine” She huffed, pulling her hand back, and keeping the knife clutched in her grip, the markings on the blade glowed softly in protest.

Y/N begrudgingly dropped it into Bobby’s outstretched hand. Bobby took the knife, handling it with care as the glow died. He shot Y/N a warning glare, “You’d better hope this thing ain’t evil” He stated before stuffing it into his jacket pocket. Y/N was itching again to take it back from Bobby but once it was out of her possession, she calmed down subsequently.

“I’ve got a troubling question, who the fuck was that blonde chick and how could she fight better than us?” Dean asked out of the blue. Bobby shrugged, his expression contemplative. “Beats me, though it sounds like she knew what she was doing. Could be another hunter.” He mused as Sam and Dean shared a glance, both of them having the same thought.

Sam buried his hands into his pockets, “I’ve got a troubling one too.” He said, “What’s that?” Y/N asked. “If we let out the seven deadly sins, what else did we let out?” Dean and Y/N shared a look at Sam’s question, the elder Winchester twirling matchsticks between his fingers. “You’re right, that is troubling” He said grimly as he struck the match, lighting the paper box aflame before tossing it onto the bodies infront of them.

“We might've let out more than just the sins” Bobby muttered, his eyes narrowing as the bodies of the two flames engulfed bodies. “And heaven knows what else got out of there.” Y/N took a deep breath, her mind running away with the possibilities. The idea of something even worse than the sin’s being let loose was a chilling thought. “Amen,” She sighed.

-

The smoke had died down and the bodies were now fully burnt, Tamara was getting ready to leave. Her duffel tossed over her shoulder, “See you gents around” She greeted the men before nodding at Y/N, “Tamara?” Y/N stopped her. Tamara stopped, a curious look on her face as she turned to look at Y/N.

“Yeah?” Tamara asked, her eyes flickered from Y/N to the three men behind her. “The world just got a lot scarier. Be careful, hun” She said gently to the other female hunter. Tamara's lips curled into a small smile at y/n’s words, but a look of sorrow was still in her eyes, “You too, darling” She replied, her eyes flickering to the boys before turning to leave.

She jumped into her car, starting it up. Y/N stood next to the boys as they all watched Tamara drive off. A sense of uneasiness fell over them, the fear of something else being unleashed hung heavily in the air. “Keep your eyes peeled for omens. I’ll do the same and I’ll look into that knife of yours” Bobby said to the trio firmly. “You got it” Dean responded as Sam and Y/N nodded curtly.

Bobby began making his way to his truck, only to be stopped by Sam. “Hey, Bobby?” The veteran Hunter faced the younger ones, the three exchanging looks. “We can win this war, right?” Sam asked, a tinge of hope in his voice but when Bobby’s head dropped and he didn’t come up with an answer. All hope died. “Catch you kids on the next one”

With that, Bobby Singer hopped into his truck. The three watched as Bobby drove off, his truck rumbling off into the distance and out of sight. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. “So, where to?” Dean asked eagerly, clapping his hands.

“Uh…I don’t know, me and Sam were thinking Louisiana, maybe” Y/N told him as they walked over to the Impala and Harley. “Little early for Mardi Gras, ain’t it?” Dean mused as he raised a brow at them. Sam and Y/N shrugged, “Yeah, listen, we were to Tamara and she mentioned this Hoodoo priestess that might be able to help us out with, ya know, with your…demon deal” Sam said as he looked away.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the two, “Nah” He simply said. Y/N and Sam shared an annoyed look, both of them tired of Dean's refusal for help. “Nah? What does that mean ‘nah?’” Y/N asked, her tone slightly irritated. “Sam, Y/N. No Hoodoo spell’s gonna break this deal, alright? It’s a goose chase” Dean stated.

“Yeah, but we don’t know that,” Sam protested. “Yes, we do. Forget it, she can’t help” Dean shook his head, dismissing the subject, “Look, it’s worth a tr-” Y/N tried to protest but Dean cut her off. “We’re not going and that’s that”

“What about Reno? Huh?” Dean smiled, causing Sam and Y/N's patience to wear thin, their brow furrowing in anger. Y/N’s fists clenched by her sides as her eyes fixed on him. “Why do you have to be such a stubborn moron?” She hissed, her tone sharp. “Dean, we have been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you and…I don’t care anymore” Sam snapped.

“Well, that didn’t last long” Dean smirked, knowing his brother and girlfriend would’ve snapped in a matter of time. Y/N took longer than he initially anticipated, however. “Yeah, well, you know what? We’ve been busting our ass, trying to keep you alive, Dean. And you act like you couldn’t care less!” Y/N exclaimed, gesturing between her and Sam.

“What? You got some kind of death wish or something?” Sam added, equally frustrated. Dean’s amused expression was still present on his face, “No, it’s not like that” He said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Then what’s it like, charming?” Y/N asked exasperated. “Sam. Y/N-”

“Please, tell us” Sam pleaded as Dean looked up at them, his eyes filled with pain. “If we trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welsh our way out of the deal in anyways, you die and they kill you too” Dean stated firmly, pointing to Y/N and then to Sam. “Okay? You two die. Those are the terms. There’s no way out”

Sam and Y/N’s faces fell at Dean’s explanation. The realization that they were putting themselves and each other in danger just to keep Dean alive hit them hard. Y/N’s lips parted as she tried to find the right words to say but came up short.

“And if you two idiots try to find a way, so help me God, I’m gonna stop you” Dean threatened them, lovingly of course. Sam’s face morphed into one of fear, his heart dropping into the palm of his hands as tears welled up in his eyes. The two scoffed painfully as Y/N ran her hand over her mouth in frustration.

“How could you make that deal, Dean?” Y/N whispered, shaking her head as she tried to stop tears from rolling down her cheeks again. Dean’s face softened, his lips tugging up into a pained smile as Y/N’s tears cascaded down her face. He stepped forward and brought Y/N into his arms, his hand caressing her head soothingly, “You wanna know why?” He asked softly.

“Because I couldn’t live with you dead. Couldn’t do it” He answered softly, her eyes snapped up to meet him at his words. “So what? Now I live and you die?” She scoffed, gently pushing him off. Dean’s hands fell to his sides but his eyes remained on Y/N. “That’s the general idea, baby” He replied in a somber tone before turning to walk away.

“Yeah, well, you’re a hypocrite, Dean” Sam shot back, following after his brother. “How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? Because we were there, we remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To Y/N.” Dean’s face hardened, his jaw clenching tightly as the memories of his father sacrificing himself for him flooded his mind.

A wave of guilt washed over him, “That’s different” He muttered under his breath. “No, it was selfish. I love you but it was selfish” Y/N blurted out. Dean’s head snapped in Y/N’s direction, her declaration taking him by surprise. But it hurt most knowing that it was the truth, he couldn’t argue there. “Yeah, you’re right, it was selfish, but I’m okay with that”

Sam and Y/N both stared at him in disbelief, their eyes narrowing, “I’m not” Y/N said, clenching her jaw. “Tough” Dean shot back, mimicking her expression. “After everything I’ve done for our families, I think I’m entitled” Sam’s jaw dropped at his brother’s words. “You think you’re entitled?” Sam echoed Dean’s words, his voice filled with anger.

“You’re not entitled to anything, Dean” Y/N retorted, her tone firm. “You think you can just sacrifice yourself and we’ll be fine?” Dean sighed heavily, “Truth is, I’m tired guys. And- I don’t know. It’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel” He continued, rambling on.

“That hellfire, Dean.” Sam and Y/N deadpanned in unison, their tones harsh. Usually they would laugh about making a witty comeback in unison but right now, there was nothing funny about this conversation. “Eh. Well, whatever.” Dean waved them off.

“You’re both alive. I feel good for the first time in a long time….I got a year to live, guys. I’d like to make the most of it. So why don’t you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell? Huh?” With that, Dean unlocked the door to the Impala. Sam and Y/N both remained speechless, their mouths agape as they watched Dean get in the car.

The audacity this man had, was mind-boggling to say the least. It was infuriating. “You’re fucking unbelievable” Sam scoffed as Dean reached over to Y/N’s motorcycle, picking up the helmet before tossing it over to her. Y/N caught the helmet with a grumble as Dean snarked back, “Very true” She glared at him before getting her bike ready to go.

She hated knowing that the man she loved was essentially giving up on life, that he didn’t even care about his impending doom. It killed her.

She swung her leg over her bike as Sam hopped into the passenger seat, placing the helmet on her head before firing up the engine. As she did, Dean started up the Impala, the engine roaring to life. She spared one last frustrated look at him before they both headed off down the road, leaving Tamara’s house behind.

Other than Dean’s impending demise to hell, what was really boggling Y/N’s mind was where the hell did that knife come from and when the hell was she gonna get it back?

____________________________________________

Authors Note: Authors Note: A verrryyyy long overdue chapter has come to an end but that just means the beginning to a new season! Thank you once again for being so supportive, sweet and loving to me within this past month. I’ll forever be grateful for the lovely family I’ve found in this journey.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Feel free to ask any questions, tell me what you loved and hated (I’ll try my best not to spoil my plans lol) and a special thanks to my darling @karrah89 for helping me with a certain idea for this season❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark

See you in the next one! (Coming sooner than expected with a little surprise hehe)

Xoxo

[stealfromthedevil]

FORBIDDEN.

A Tig Trager fic. Wordcount:6175 No minors. 18+ depictions of foul language, violence, drinking alcohol, detailed implications of sex, mutual masturbation, dry humping, masturbation.

The heavy door of the Teller-Morrow clubhouse swung open with a creak that seemed to announce trouble. Clay Morrow stepped through first, his weathered face set in its usual mask of authority, silver hair slicked back and kutte hanging perfectly across his shoulders. Behind him followed a woman who didn't belong in this world of chrome and leather—and yet somehow looked like she'd been born for it.  

She moved with an easy confidence that immediately caught the attention of every man in the room. Her ripped skinny jeans hugged her dangerous curves, and the cropped tank top she wore left little to the imagination—no bra, her nipple piercings visible through the thin fabric. Dark hair fell in a messy ponytail over one tattooed shoulder, and intricate ink covered both arms, and an equally intricate piece decorated her lower back. She looked like trouble wrapped in denim and attitude. 

The clubhouse fell silent except for the low rumble of a motorcycle pulling up outside. Jax looked up from the pool table where he'd been lining up a shot, his blonde hair falling across his face as he took in the newcomer. Juice paused mid-sip of his beer, nearly choking. Opie's massive frame straightened in his chair, while Bobby's fingers stilled on his laptop keyboard. Chibs raised an eyebrow, his scars pulling slightly as a knowing grin spread across his face. Happy simply stared, his dark eyes unreadable as always. 

And then there was Tig. 

He'd been leaning against the bar, a beer hanging loose in his fingers, but the moment she walked in, every muscle in his body went taut. His pale blue eyes raked over her form with the hungry appreciation of a man who knew exactly what he liked—and she was it. The way she moved, the confidence in her stride, the hint of wildness in her dark eyes that matched something feral in his own. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he straightened, suddenly very interested in whatever Clay was about to say. 

"Gentlemen," Clay's gravelly voice cut through the silence, commanding attention the way it always did. "I want you to meet Clair. She's gonna be working behind the bar, as well as doing a little cooking and cleaning, helping keep this place running smoothly." 

She stepped forward slightly, a genuine smile lighting up her features. "It's really nice to meet you all," she said, her voice warm and sweet—almost innocent, unless you noticed the hint of mischief dancing in her blue eyes. Which, of course, Tig had. 

Clay gestured around the room. "Sweetheart, meet the Sons. That's Jax, our VP." Jax nodded, his charming smile already in place. "Juice, our intelligence officer." Juice gave an awkward wave, still looking slightly stunned. "Opie, Chibs, Bobby." Each man acknowledged the introduction in their way—Opie with a respectful nod, Chibs with that Scottish charm, Bobby with a friendly grin. 

"Happy," Clay continued, and Happy's stare intensified if possible, earning him a sharp look from Clay. "And Tig, our Sergeant at Arms." 

Tig pushed off from the bar, his movements predatory and smooth. "Pleasure's all mine, darlin'," he drawled, his voice dropping to that register that had gotten him into more women's panties than he could count. His eyes never left hers as he spoke, and something electric passed between them—a challenge, a promise, a recognition of kindred spirits. Something that couldn't be easily dismissed as pure lust. 

"Easy there, Tigger," Chibs called out with a chuckle. "Save some charm for the rest of us." 

"She's got a sweet ass," Happy stated bluntly, earning snickers from the guys. 

Clay's jaw tightened, his authority radiating outward like heat from a forge. "Which brings me to my next point." His voice cut through the room like a blade, immediately silencing further comments. "She’s here to work. She's not here to be your entertainment, old lady, or latest conquest. Nobody—and I mean nobody—lays a hand on her. She's off limits. Completely." 

The room fell silent again, but this time the quiet had teeth. Clay's gaze swept across each man, lingering meaningfully on the ones he knew would be most likely to test boundaries. 

Tig's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk. He caught Jax's eye across the room, then glanced at Chibs, who was trying to hide his knowing grin. The message was clear as day, but some rules were made to be broken, especially when the prize was this tempting. 

What none of them knew was  that she was thinking the same thing. 

The clubhouse had settled into its usual rhythm a few hours after her introduction. Jax and Opie were deep in conversation at a corner table, their voices low as they discussed club business. Juice had claimed the couch; laptop balanced on his knees as he worked on something that had his full attention. Chibs and Bobby were playing pool, their banter punctuated by occasional laughter. Happy sat in his usual spot, cleaning a knife with methodical precision. 

Behind the bar, she moved with natural grace, wiping down glasses and familiarizing herself with the setup. Her ponytail swayed as she worked, and more than one pair of eyes tracked her movements. But it was Tig who finally made his move. 

He approached the bar with that predatory swagger and a smirk that had become his trademark, sliding onto a barstool with practiced ease. His pale eyes never left her face as he settled in, arms crossing on the polished wood surface. His fingers flexing almost involuntarily, the glint of rings catching her eye.  

"What can I get you?" She asked, her voice friendly and professional, though her eyes sparkled with something that suggested she knew exactly what game they were about to play. 

"Whiskey. Neat." His voice was rough velvet, designed to make women weak in the knees. "So, doll, you’re a pretty girl.” 

She poured his drink with steady hands, the amber liquid catching the light. "Thank you. You're Tig, right? Sergeant at Arms?" 

"That's me." He accepted the glass, his fingers deliberately brushing hers as he took it. "So tell me, darlin', what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" 

"A girl like me?" She leaned against the bar, giving him her full attention. "What kind of girl do you think I am?" 

Tig's grin was pure trouble. "The kind that knows how to have a good time. The kind that's not afraid to get a little dirty." His eyes dropped deliberately to her chest, lingering on the outline of her piercings. "Tell me, do those pretty little decorations make you more... sensitive?" 

Most women would have blushed, stammered, or slapped him. She did none of those things. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, making his blood run hot. 

"Why don't you worry about whether or not you could handle finding out?" Her blue eyes held his, unflinching and bold. "Because something tells me you're all talk and no follow-through. You’d probably finish before you even get my shirt off." 

The words hit Tig like a physical blow. His mouth fell open slightly, the cocky retort he'd been preparing dying on his lips like a burst balloon, the air the air rushing out in a flaccid wheeze as her words pricked his ego. Nonetheless, Heat flooded his body, and he felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably. Nobody—absolutely nobody—had ever turned the tables on him like that. That she'd done it with such casual confidence, with that sweet smile never wavering, made it even more devastating. Devastating and potentially the sexiest thing he’d witnessed in a very long time.  

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough with sudden need. 

She straightened, her expression innocent as she picked up another glass to clean. "Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked pleasantly, as if she hadn't completely undone him with a few well-chosen words. 

Tig stared at her, his mind racing and his body aching. He'd thought he was the hunter, but she'd just proven he was nothing more than prey. And God helped him; he'd never wanted anything more in his life. 

"No," he managed, his voice barely controlled. "I'm good." 

But as he sat there, watching her work with that knowing smile playing at her lips, he knew he was anything but good. He was completely and utterly fucked. 

Chapter Two: House rules for the hopeless. 

The past three days had been absolute hell for Tig Trager. 

He'd found himself taking longer showers, his hand wrapped around himself as he thought about dark hair, blue eyes, and a smart mouth that could destroy him with a few words. He'd jerked off in his dorm several times yesterday ... alone, trying to relieve the constant ache that had taken up residence in his gut. Every time she leaned over the bar, every time she laughed at someone else's joke, every time she looked in his direction, his body responded like the ultimate betrayal. He was sure he’d spent more time with his hand wrapped around his dick lately than he ever had as a horny teen. 

It was pathetic. It was driving him insane. And she knew it. 

Now, well past midnight, the clubhouse was finally empty except for the two of them. She moved around the bar area efficiently, wiping down surfaces and putting away bottles. Tig sat in his usual spot, nursing a beer he didn't really want, watching her every movement like a man dying of thirst, desperately tilting his head back, mouth open in supplication to an unyielding sky, tongue questing for even a single drop of life-giving moisture." 

"You know," he said finally, his voice rough with frustration, "you're making this whole 'off limits' thing real fucking difficult doll." 

She paused in her cleaning, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She turned to face him fully, leaning back against the bar with crossed arms. "Am I?" 

"Don't play innocent with me, darlin'. You know exactly what you're doing." His pale eyes burned into hers. "Walking around here in those skin tight jeans, bending over right in front of me, giving me those looks..." 

"What looks?" she asked, but her voice had dropped to that husky tone that made his blood sing. 

"The ones that say you want me to bend you over this bar and fuck you until you scream." 

The crude words hung between them, heavy with promise and frustration. Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn't back down. Instead, she pushed off the bar and walked toward him, her hips swaying with deliberate provocation. 

"You're right," she said simply, stopping just close enough that he could smell her perfume. " But we both know that's not going to happen." 

Tig's hands clenched into fists on the bar top. "Clay's rule." 

"Clay's rule," she confirmed. Then her lips curved into that dangerous smile haunting his dreams. "But you know what? I've been thinking about that rule…REALLY thinking about it." 

"Yeah?" His voice was barely more than a growl. 

"Clay said no one could have sex with me. But technically..." She moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If we don't touch each other, it's not sex, is it?" 

Tig's brain took a moment to process her words, and when understanding hit, his entire body went rigid with want. "What are you suggesting?" 

"I'm suggesting," she said, her hand moving to the button of her jeans, "that we give ourselves some mutual relief. You watch me, I watch you, and we both get what we need without technically breaking any rules." 

For a moment, Tig couldn't breathe. The suggestion was so perfectly her—bold, clever, and absolutely fucking devastating. "Jesus Christ, woman." 

"Is that a, yes?" Her fingers toyed with her zipper, and the sight turned his blood to molten lava coursing through his veins, turning every nerve ending to ash. 

Tig's control, already hanging by a thread, finally snapped. "Fuck yes." 

Tig's heart pounded in his chest as her fingers hovered over her zipper, the promise of what was to come hanging heavy in the air between them. "You sure about this, darlin'?" he asked, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. 

In response, she slowly dragged the zipper down, the sound echoing in the quiet clubhouse and ringing in his ears. "I've never been surer of anything," she said, her voice thick with want. 

Tig's hands went to his own jeans, popping the button and easing the zipper over his straining erection. He hissed through his teeth as he freed himself, his cock hard and aching as it springs life. "Fuck, doll... you've had me so worked up these past few days, you have no idea." 

She smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I know. I loved watching you try to hide it." Her hands slid into her jeans, her back arching as she touched herself. "God, I'm so wet," she breathed, her fingers moving nimbly under the denim. The noise of her wet heat breaking the last minuscule shred of resolve he had left. 

"Let me see," Tig commanded, spitting in his hand as he began to stroke himself. "Show me that pretty pussy." 

She obliged, shimmying out of her jeans and hopping up onto the bar, thighs spread, giving him a clear view of her glistening folds. Tig groaned, his hand fisting his throbbing cock as he drank in the sight of her.  

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growled. "I wish I could taste you, bury my face in that sweet cunt until you screamed." 

She whimpered, her fingers circling her clit with furious abandon. "Oh fuck, yes... I want that so badly. I want to feel your tongue on me, in me, fucking me. I want to taste myself on your tongue." 

Tig's hips bucked into his hand at her words, pre-cum leaking from the tip. "Touch your nipples," he demanded. "Pretend it's my mouth, my teeth, tugging on those pretty piercings." 

Her free hand went to her chest, fingers twisting the sensitive peaks, her moans echoing in the empty room. "Tig, I'm so close," she gasped, her hips rocking against her hand, grinding herself stupid. 

"Fuck doll! Do it," he hissed. "Come for me, baby, let me see you fall apart." 

With a keening cry, she obeyed, her body shuddering through her climax, her pussy clenching around her slick covered fingers. The sight of her pleasure sent him over the edge, as he came with a guttural groan, his release spilling over his fist in thick ropes. 

They stared at each other, chests heaving, the air thick with the scent of sex. "Jesus Christ," Tig breathed. "That was... fuck." 

She smiled, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Yeah, it was. But it's not enough, is it?" 

Tig's cock twitched, already starting to harden again. "No," he agreed. "It's not even close to enough." 

He tucks himself back into his jeans, still half hard and nowhere near satisfied, as he watches her lick her digits clean as he grabs a rag from the bar to clean his own hands.  

They grinned at each other, the promise of more hanging between them, a delicious secret to savour until next time. 

Chapter Three: Subtlety in sin. 

The next morning hit the clubhouse like any other, but everything had changed. 

Tig sat at his usual spot at the bar, black coffee growing cold in his hands as he tried to focus on literally anything other than the memory of last night. But every time she moved—and Christ, she seemed to be everywhere at once—his body remembered exactly what she'd looked like, what she'd sounded like, the way her name had fallen from his lips like a prayer. The pretty pink flesh that lies just out of his reach, but burned into memory like the cruellest of brands.  

She moved around the clubhouse with the same easy confidence as always, but something was different now. Something in the way she carried herself, the subtle satisfaction in her smile, the knowledge that she'd undone him entirely without even laying a finger on his skin.  

When she walked past him to refill the coffee pot, her hip brushed his shoulder—barely a touch, probably accidental to anyone watching. But the contact sent electricity straight through him, a familiar heat pooling in his gut, stirring his loins, and judging from how her breath caught, he knew it wasn't accidental. She was killing him slowly like a predator toying with its prey. 

"More coffee?" she asked innocently, her voice steady despite the heat in her eyes. 

"Yeah," he managed, his voice rougher than intended. 

As she poured, leaning slightly over him, he caught that same perfume driving him crazy. Her free hand rested on the bar next to his arm, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. When she was done, she didn't immediately move away. Instead, she stayed there for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, and when he looked up, her blue eyes were dark with the same memories that were torturing him. 

"Anything else you need?" The question was perfectly polite, but he knew it was anything but, and how she said it made his jeans tighten uncomfortably. 

Before he could answer, Jax's voice cut through the moment. "Sweetheart, you got any of those breakfast burritos left?" 

She straightened immediately, the spell broken, and turned toward the VP with that cocky smile. "Of course. Coming right up." 

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder, giving him a look of pure fire. A look of unbridled sin. It was a promise, a challenge, and a reminder all rolled into one devastating glance that left him gripping his coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping him anchored. The strain almost cracking the porcelain as visually as his broken resolve. 

The rest of the morning continued in the same torturous pattern. Every interaction between them was charged with electricity. When she handed him a fresh beer, their fingers lingered just a second too long. When he asked for a shot of whiskey, she poured it slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving his face. When she bent to pick up something behind the bar, he couldn't help but watch, and when she caught him looking, she gave him a show, making sure to arch her back, round her hips, stick her ass out teasing him slowly. Silently.  

By noon, the other guys were starting to notice. 

"Jesus, Tig," Chibs muttered, sliding onto the barstool beside him. "You look like a man who hasn't gotten laid in months." 

If only he knew how close to that truth was—and how far from it simultaneously. 

"I'm fine," Tig growled, but his eyes tracked her as she moved to the other end of the bar. 

"Aye, sure you are." Chibs followed his gaze and grinned. "That's some serious eye-fucking going on there, brother." 

"Drop it, Chibs." 

"I'm just saying, Clay's rule might be harder to follow than any of us thought." The Scotsman's voice dropped lower, more serious. "Just be careful, yeah? That one's got trouble written all over her." 

Tig finally tore his gaze away from her to look at his brother. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means she's the woman who could make a man forget his loyalties. And you, my friend, look at her like she's already wrapped you around her little finger." 

Before Tig could respond, she appeared before them, setting down a fresh beer for Chibs. 

"You boys talking about anything interesting?" she asked, her tone light and casual. 

"No lass, just admiring the view," Chibs replied with his usual Scottish charm. 

Her eyes flicked to Tig, and for just a moment, her professional mask slipped. The look she gave him was so intense, so full of heat and longing, that he nearly groaned out loud. 

"The view is pretty spectacular," she agreed softly, and there was no doubt she wasn't talking about the scenery outside despite her feeble gesturing. 

Then she was gone again, moving to serve other customers, leaving Tig with his heart pounding and his body aching, knowing they'd crossed a line last night that could never be uncrossed. 

And the worst part? He didn't want to go back. 

 The following day.

Tuesdays were her day off, and the clubhouse felt wrong without her. 

Tig realized it the moment he walked through the doors that morning. The space felt too quiet, too empty, missing some essential energy that he'd already grown accustomed to in just over a week. He automatically looked toward the bar, expecting to see her there with that knowing smile, only to find it empty except for prospects fumbling with bottles they didn't know how to handle correctly. 

"Where the fuck is my coffee?" he snapped at one of them, a skinny prospect jumped like he'd been shot. 

"S-sorry, Tig. I'll get it right now." 

The coffee, when it finally came, was weak and bitter. Nothing like the perfect cup she had been making him every morning, somehow knowing exactly how he liked it without him ever having to ask. 

"This tastes like shit," he muttered, pushing the mug away. 

Jax looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading. "What's crawled up your ass this morning?" 

"Nothing." But even as he said it, his leg bounced restlessly under the table, his fingers drumming against the wood in an agitated rhythm. He couldn't sit still, focus, or shake the feeling that something was missing. 

By mid-afternoon, his mood had gone from irritable to downright hostile. Tig exploded when Happy commented on the prospects being useless behind the bar. 

"Then why don't you get back there and show them how it's done instead of sitting on your ass complaining?" 

Happy raised an eyebrow at the outburst. "Easy, brother. Just making an observation." 

"Well, keep your observations to yourself." 

The room fell silent, everyone exchanging glances. Tig's temper was legendary, but this was different. This wasn't the controlled violence they were used to—this was raw, unfocused agitation. 

"Maybe you should take a ride," Opie suggested carefully. "Clear your head." 

"My head's fine." But Tig was already standing, pacing like a caged animal. He caught himself looking toward the bar again, and the disappointment when he found it still empty hit him like a physical blow. 

"Jesus Christ," Chibs muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're jonesing like a junkie, brother." 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means you're acting like a man going through withdrawal." Chibs' Scottish accent was thick with amusement and concern. "And we all know what you're withdrawing from, or should I say...who?" 

Tig's jaw clenched. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"The hell you don't." Jax folded his newspaper, giving Tig his full attention. "You've been looking at the door every five minutes like you're expecting someone, and you just bit Hap's head off for no reason." 

"She's got you twisted up already," Bobby observed from his spot at the computer. "And it's only been a week." 

"She doesn't have me anything," Tig snarled, but the denial sounded weak even to his ears. 

"Then why are you acting like someone stole your favourite toy?" Juice asked, then immediately regretted it when Tig's pale eyes fixed on him with murderous intent. 

"You wanna say that to me again?" 

"Juice is right, though," Jax said, his voice carrying the authority of the VP. "This isn't like you, Tig. You're usually the first one to move on to the next piece of ass. But this girl's got you pacing like a dog in heat, and you haven't even gotten her into bed yet." 

The truth of it hit Tig like a sledgehammer. He had been looking at the door, waiting for her to walk through it with that confident stride and those knowing eyes. He had been counting the hours until she'd be back tomorrow, and the realization made him feel exposed and vulnerable in a way he hated. 

"Fuck this," he muttered, grabbing his kutte from the back of his chair. "I'm going for a ride." 

"Tig," Clay's voice stopped him before reaching the door. The president had been watching the whole exchange from his chair, saying nothing, but his eyes were calculating. "Word of advice, Don't let pussy make you weak. It makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed." 

Tig met Clay's stare, his jaw working. "It's not like that." 

"No? Then what's it like?" 

But Tig couldn't answer that question—not to Clay, not to his brothers, and certainly not to himself. Because the truth was, he didn't know what it was like. All he knew was that her absence felt like a hole in his chest, and that scared him more than any enemy ever had, and he was damned if he didn't know why. 

Without another word, he stalked out of the clubhouse, the sound of his Harley roaring to life drowning out the concerned murmurs of his brothers. 

As he peeled out of the lot, one thought echoed in his mind: twenty-four hours had never felt so fucking long. 

Chapter Four: Reprieve. 

The previous twenty-four hours had been absolute hell. 

Tig had ridden for hours the day before, pushing his Harley hard on empty backroads, trying to outrun the restless energy that had been eating him alive. But no matter how fast or far he travelled, he couldn't escape the gnawing need that had taken up permanent residence in his gut. He'd returned to his dorm and tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw blue eyes and that knowing smirk. He'd jerked off to take the edge off, but it barely helped. His hand dusting his cock furiously, all the while imaging it was her hand, that look in her eyes as she touched him, maybe she'd even bite her lip a little? 

“Jesus Christ”, he groans as he reaches his peak. 

By the time morning came, he was a wreck. He'd been sitting there since eight AM, nursing his third cup of shitty prospect coffee and watching the door like a man waiting for salvation. 

And then, at exactly nine-thirty, salvation walked through the door. 

He felt something in his chest loosen when she stepped into the clubhouse. The constant tension that had been riding his shoulders for the past day melted away, replaced by a relief so profound it was almost embarrassing. He could breathe again. The world made sense again. 

Until he got a good look at what she was wearing. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed, his coffee mug stopping halfway to his lips. 

The black denim skirt was short … criminally short, barely covering the tops of her thighs. Beneath it, fishnet stockings created intricate patterns on her legs, leading down to black combat boots that somehow managed to be both tough and sexy. Her cropped black top left a tantalizing strip of skin visible at her waist, and her long brown hair was pulled up in that signature messy ponytail that made his fingers itch to pull it loose. 

She looked like every dirty fantasy he'd ever had, wrapped up in denim and fishnets and served with a side of trouble. 

"Morning, boys," she called out cheerfully, as if she hadn't just walked in looking like sex on legs. Her eyes swept the room and landed on Tig, and the smile that spread across her lips was nothing short of predatory. "Miss me?" 

The question was directed to the room in general, but her gaze never left Tig's face. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. His brain had short-circuited the moment those fishnet-covered legs had come into view. 

"Holy shit," Juice muttered from his spot on the couch, and Tig wanted to punch him for voicing what they were all thinking. 

"Looking good, lass," Chibs said with his usual charm, but even his appreciative whistle sounded strained. 

"Thanks Chibs." she moved toward the bar with that confident stride, her hips swaying in a way that should have been illegal. "Sorry, I'm a little late. Had some errands to run." 

As she passed Tig's table, she let her fingers trail along the back of his chair, a brief touch that could have gone unnoticed entirely, But the way her fingertips grazed the leather, the way she leaned just close enough for him to catch her scent wasn't something he was about miss. 

"You look like you didn't sleep well," she observed, her voice soft with false concern. "Rough night?" 

Tig's hands clenched into fists on the table. "Something like that." 

She whispers, only loud enough for him to hear. "Poor baby." The sympathy in her voice was entirely at odds with the mischief dancing in her blue eyes. "Maybe I can help you... relax... later." 

The double meaning in her words hit him like a freight train. Combined with the outfit that was designed to drive him insane, and the fact that he'd spent the last day in withdrawal-level misery, Tig was pretty sure he was about to lose what was left of his mind. 

"Doll," he said, his voice rough with warning. 

"Yes?" She was behind the bar now, bending to put away her purse, and the movement made her skirt ride up dangerously high. When she straightened, she caught him staring and smiled that wicked smile haunting his dreams. 

"You're playing with fire," he managed. 

"I know." She moved closer to where he sat, bracing her hands on the bar and leaning forward just enough to give him a perfect view of her cleavage. "The question is, are you brave enough to get burned?" 

Around them, the clubhouse continued its normal rhythm, but Tig felt like they were in their private bubble of sexual tension and memories of that forbidden encounter. Every other sound seemed muted, every other person seemed to fade into the background. There was only her, in that outfit that was going to be the death of him, looking at him like she wanted to devour him whole. 

"You missed me," she said quietly, and it wasn't a question. 

"Yeah," he admitted, because lying seemed pointless when she could probably see the truth written all over his face. "I did." 

Her smile turned softer, more genuine, and somehow that was even more devastating than her seductive games. "Good," she whispered. "Because I missed you too." 

Then she was moving again, getting ready to start her shift, leaving Tig with his heart hammering and his body screaming with want. If yesterday had been torture, today was going to be a whole new level of hell. 

And from the knowing look in her eyes, that was precisely what she'd been counting on. 

Most of her shift passed by in a blur once she'd received the phone call.

She sighed as she flopped down on the bed in her new temporary digs, the springs creaking under her weight. The dorm wasn't much to look at - plain walls, faded comforter, a window that looked out over the parking lot. But after dealing with her asshole landlord and the now sudden sale of her apartment building, she was just grateful to the Sons for giving her a place to crash. 

Clay had insisted she stayed and so she did. 

Of course, knowing that Tig was just a few doors down, likely similarly sprawled across his bed...well. That put a whole different spin on things. 

She couldn't stop thinking about the other night, how they'd touched themselves while drinking each other in, eyes hungry with want. How she'd come so hard, she'd seen stars, the sight of him spilling over his fist sending her flying. 

“Fuck.” she mutters lazily, her legs subconsciously spreading wider. 

Here she was, so close, anticipating what they might do next, sending a tantalizing buzz under her skin. 

They'd been dancing around each other ever since she arrived, made worse only by her moving in, the tension crackling hotter with every "casual" brush of fingertips, every lingering look. She found herself constantly on edge, her skin prickling with awareness, her nipples hardening to sensitive peaks beneath her clothes whenever he was near. 

At night, she'd lie in bed, the sheets tented over her aching breasts, one hand between her thighs as she imagined what he looked like naked. She could almost feel the heavy thickness of his cock in her hands, taste the salt of his skin as she took him into her mouth.... the hair on his broad chest, those thick fingers, decorated with treasures and how they look, how they would feel unceremoniously pumping in and out of her dripping pussy, the squelching siren song of her tight hole being mercilessly fucked her raw.  

She shivered, her pussy clenching around her fingers as she came with a muffled moan, imagining it was him inside her, on top of her, all around her. 

Tig was hardly faring any better. He'd find himself unconsciously seeking her out, hoping to catch a glimpse of her glossy hair, the curve of her ass in those painted-on jeans. At night, he'd strain his ears, hoping to hear the creak of her bedsprings, a sign that she was as restless and on fire as he was. 

His fantasies were vivid, filthy. Lying her out on his bed, her hair spread beneath her like a banner, he feasted on her pierced nipples until she begged. Burying his face between her thighs, tasting her, fucking her with his tongue until she screamed herself hoarse. 

He'd jerk off furiously, grunting her name as he came, the sheets sticky with his release. 

It was only a matter of time before the tension snapped, and they collided like nebulae, heat and friction and the inevitability of two bodies coming together. 

It happened late one night, the clubhouse quiet and dark around them. She had gotten up to raid the kitchen, wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt and panties, her nipples visible through the thin fabric. 

Tig had stumbled in, bleary-eyed and shirtless, his boxers hanging low on his hips. 

They froze, eyes locking, the air evaporating between them. Tig's eyes dragged down her body lasciviously, taking in the long expanse of her legs, the points of her nipples tenting the shirt. 

She followed suit, her gaze tracing the lines of muscle on his chest, the generous fuzz trail that disappeared beneath his waistband. 

As if time slowed down, neither of them moved, barely took a breath until. 

Until Tig surged forward, gripping her hips and hoisting her onto the counter in one fluid motion. She gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, locking him in place. 

They ground against each other frantically, gasping and moaning, the only thing separating them being the thin layers of clothing. She could feel the rigid length of him pressing against her core, hot and thick, and she rocked her hips, seeking more of that delicious friction. 

"Oh fuck, babydoll," Tig growled against her throat. "You're gonna make me nut in my pants like a fucking randy teenager." 

She laughed breathlessly, her hands pistoning in his hair.  

Tig's hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as she ground against him wantonly, the only barrier between them the thin layers of her panties and his boxers. She gasped when his fingers dug into her sides, knowing there'd be bruises tomorrow, marks of possession and pleasure. 

They rutted against each other almost frantically, chasing the friction, the pressure, the sweet, aching relief of contact. Tig was hard as steel beneath her, and she knew she was drenched, the fabric of her panties sliding wetly against her. 

She wished desperately that they were somewhere else, that Clay's rule didn't exist, that they could just give in and fuck until they were sore and spent. But deep down, there was a thrill in this too - the illicit wrongness, the denial, the endless wanting without satisfaction. 

Tig's lips dragged down her throat, licking and sucking, and he knew she'd have a hickey she would have to hide later. The thought sent a thrill through him, and he rocked his hips harder, reaching for the peak he knew hovered just out of reach. 

With a cry, she flew apart, her body shuddering with the force of it, her nails digging into Tig's shoulders. He followed moments later, his hips stuttering against hers as he spilled into his boxers, his groan hot against her neck. 

For a long moment, they just breathed together, enjoying the closeness, the intimacy, the warmth of shared pleasure. He could smell her arousal, feel its sticky heat conjoining with his own through clothed constraints and it only served to make him crave her more, to take a forbidden taste.  

Slowly, reluctantly, they untangled themselves, the cool air rushing in to fill the spaces between them. 

Tig leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "Fuck, baby," he whispered. "You undo me." 

Her lips curved, her hands combing through his hair. "Ditto, Trager," she whispered back. 

A kiss, chaste and lingering, longing, and then they parted, going their separate ways. Back in their respective beds, they replayed the moment, relived the touches, the sighs, the shattering completion and incompletion all at once. 

The distance between them yawned, at once too much and not enough. But for now, they would take what they could, savouring the wanting, the waiting, the exquisite agony of restraint.  

[melancholicstation]

summer wine ( and an angel’s kiss in spring ) — bobby f. kennedy

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

summary: during a party hosted in light of senator john f. kennedy’s presidential candidacy announcement, bobby and you sneak away into the background and have about as much fun as a person can have at a political campaign celebration🍷🛌 …

tags: 18+, making love against a secretary desk, religious imagery, hair pulling, oral ( female receiving ), unprotected s*x, desk breaking

words: 1783

Sure, you’ll bite: a campaign celebration soirée for your husband’s older brother’s presidential ticket wasn’t exactly your idea of a rousing saturday evening but when jack tells you to be somewhere, well that’s just where you’re gonna be: at least that’s where bobby would always be.

It’s bordering on 2:00 am and you’ve just about tried as many old fashions and sidecars as you can stomach for the time being so you switch to a vintage choosing of dubonnet cherry wine.

You haven’t talked to bobby much all day which isn’t so out of the ordinary: evidently he was a man very much in demand. You’d just become to miss him as his frame comes into your periphery. A sight just calibrated for your oh so terribly sore eyes!

You smile and beckon him over, not unlike calling over an excitable puppy, he’s quick to start into quick jog. The squeaks of his leather derbies colliding with the teak flooring, but being quickly drowned out to all ears by the booming, assaulting volume of irish ballads playing from the far side of the gathering hall.

“Hey Sugar how’re you doin’? Has Mrs Bridges been hassling you about going that murder-mystery bookclub again I—by god I can see in your face, of course she has. How many times?”

“Three times” you say through breathy laughs as you fuss over the positioning of the shark-type collar he dons, eventually laying it flat against his collarbone littered with blonde baby-hairs like a garden of baby breaths.

“Three times this night or this hour my dear?” He says while responding to my incessant fixing and prodding’s by grabbing the hair from the nape, splitting it into two with hands much larger than yours, arranging them across your shoulders.

“Three times this hour” You move to lay your head across his collarbone but close was never close enough for you as of late, you would nest yourself in his ribs if you could tucked around his sternum. “Oh god, my poor, poor girl. I extend my deepest apologies that I wasn’t there to run interference: though I don’t believe it would’ve stopped her pursuits much” he says in a condescendingly charming fashion.

“Oh you’re really sorry” “Terribly so” “How sorry are you?”

“Well if you join me in the back I can show you just how deep my sympathies truly lie.” He exclaims in a tone that balances the intimacy of such an offer with a boyish-like spin.

The brazenness of his offer makes you giggle profusely, calling the attention to older couples who interact with their partners like they sleep in separate beds: so you don’t pay them much mind, a tell-tale sign that bobby’s one too many of the amortised wines served was his rare streak of promiscuity that would rear its head. Much to your amusement as his wife.

You scurry off little teenagers running to make out under the bleachers, you allow bobby to lead you as he’s more familiar with the event space than you were. He leads you into an abandoned looking secretarial office, with a hand curled around the crevice of your elbow like a devout would hold a beaded rosary, a loving kind of possession.

strawberries cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring…

You both look around the room quite impolitely in sheer curiosity: opening rusty drawers, flicking through empty filing cabinets until you both land on a particular item resting on the wall parallel to the door. A slanted front writing desk in a deep caramel tinted mahogany wood. A brass handle dangles in the breeze from the slightly draft coming in through the door.

Bobby and you both grinning and make eye contact: immediately moving to pull down the handle to woefully find it particularly barren: no secret notes or diary entry’s. Your face mirrors each other’s pout, as you try to test the sturdiness of the writing desk. To your surprise it holds its own under the full weight of your hand. Noticing this Bobby catches on, asking “Do ya’ think it’s sturdy enough?”

“Looks sturdy enough to me” you grin as you slowly back your behind up and onto the desk. Your legs finding balance resting on the lower portion of Bobby’s thigh. Slowly your Mary Jane black pumps start to find perch higher and higher on his thigh, eventually reaching the mound beneath his dress pants. You decide to tease him a bit and start to circle your foot around the mound, to which Bobby moans under his breath, shyly and throws his head back clearly overwhelmed. He lets you toy with him for a few short moments until you’re sure he had had enough, and moves to wrap your legs and thighs around the width of his hips. “Ya sure you want to do this here, y’know I could tell Jack we’ve had an issue with the babysitter and need to get home. I—I just quite feel disrespectful taking you in a place that has about 5 distinguishable moulds living in it. “Not that I don’t want to, cause trust me my girl I do it’s just—“

my summer wine is really made from all these things…

“Hush, I don’t care if there’s mould spors I need you on me this instance Kennedy. Depriving your wife! My I can’t think of a more disrespectful act can you Bobby?” You say in a bullish-yet feminine tone that immediately snaps Bobby out of his overthinking spiral: a good trait in a campaign manager not in a husband. Great for Jack, not so much for you.

“Okay—Okay I’m sorry baby you know how I get” “Oh I do now clear your mind of it this instance”

take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time…

“Totally clear” he says in a self assured tone as he moves to delicately remove his dress pants throwing them over the side of the large ottoman that most definitely has some form of bed bug inhabitants. Leaving him in his torn boxers: that he refuses to throw in the garbage disposal, holes that allow you to see the mountain of hair littered going from his belly button down to his significant mound.

In stark contrast he handles the undressing of yourself with the care and devotion of a man who knows his woman only has eyes for him, and vis versa. He neatly dissembles your outfit: a billowing ruffled crepe blouse paired with a pleated black skirt and flesh coloured tights. In his excavation of your outfit he uncovers the surprise you’d dressed on yourself for him to find.

Once he got you down to just your stockings he could see what you longed for him to find since you slipped them on: a bikini brief with embroidered lettering spelling out “bobby’s girl” on the front in lapis blue.

and i will give to you my summer wine…

Bobby’s face morphs into the face of a man starved: finally finding a dam in a four day trek through an unforgiving desert. The underwear is quickly pulled off and placed hastily into the pocket of his suit jacket, causing his pocket square to be slightly roughened up. To your surprise, but not shock as Bobby was always the kind to give before he ever received himself, got down on his knees and started to lap at your cunt ferociously: talk about a man starved. You’d heard the rumours of Bobby far before you had met him in the flesh, far before you’d married and had children with him: Bobby was thought to have been a ruthless character with the temperament of a caged pit bull.

But that wasn’t the Bobby you saw that day you met him for the first time, and it wasn’t the Bobby you were looking at now. Now he was worshipping, and at his happiest while doing it.

Soon enough you felt the inevitable wave of pleasure wash over you, and in that bliss reached for Bobby always wanting to bask in that with the man who made it all possible. “Did that feel good baby?” “So-so-so-so good Bobby you should have shed that humbleness with me a long time ago” You say as you soothingly ( for the both of you ) try to smooth down tufts of his hair, now severely roughened up, and clear away the luminescent substance absolutely coating the entirety of his chin and a portion of his plush, bottom lip.

But just as you get your wits about you, he starts to line up and invades you in the most decedent way a person could be invaded.

“Harder”

To which Bobby lays flat a hand on your chin, keeping your attention fully locked onto him as he bullies his large mound into your cunt at a solid pace but steadily increasing in fervour. As a cause of this the desk starts to rock. Continually ricocheting rhythmic sounds of the desk hitting the skirting of the wall over, and over, and over again.

“Dear God, you’re as tight as ever. You’re killing me” Bobby continues to praise how soft you are, how good you are to him, and how he can only aspire and yearn to make you feel as good as he does at this moment.

when i woke up the sun was shining in my eyes…

A mounting shudder creeps upon you like a ghost in the night, following behind you Bobby shudders and then finally stills, still sheathed inside you.

You both take a couple minutes to recoup which consists: of lots of handholding, reassuring, and kisses upon naps of necks.

my silver spurs were gone, my head felt twice its size…

It is only when you get up, as Bobby gathers both of your garments, that you identify a large split in the wood spanning from the hinges. You laugh at it half mortified and half impressed with the two of you’s strength and call over Bobby.

my summer wine is really made from all these things.

To which he comes over, observes the large spilt that definitely wasn’t there prior and searches his pockets. In there he finds a letter opener and to your surprise carved into the rich wood:

“Y/n and Bobby forever 1960-01-02”

the end.