#dazzling brunette

[breelynnxoxoxoxo]

Look At You Glow! 😍😍😍

[multifandomme]

Red-Eye

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: For the first time in a while, you are partnered with your wife. What's the worst that could happen?

Genre: Smut, (strap ons, hair-pulling, marking, dry humping, multiple orgasms, praise kink, getting railed on the jet), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 1.4k.

This piece is for day 8 of kinktober under the 'multiple orgasms' prompt.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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It was a rare occurrence for Emily to permit you the privilege of being her partner in the professional sense, often opting to pair you with another agent to avoid assumption. She was tightly wound where work was concerned, always anxious and hyper vigilant of prying eyes. Undeniably, she had a right to be worried, encumbered with the fact that she knew you intricately, knew that when those watchful eyes tore themselves away, you could not keep your hands to yourself. 

The setting never mattered, utterly enraptured by her ability to command, how she appeared in her natural habitat, her comfort zone, how it contradicted with the way she held herself at home with you. The jet remained the only place free of your sexual escapades, surrounded always by the entirety of the team or at least someone to thwart your advances. You had clear-cut plans to fix that. 

The continual vibration of the engine kept you awake, blackness engulfing the windows as you peered out to decipher what lay below, though you couldn’t quite make anything out of the gloom. Emily flicked through case files, pictures, intent on working up somewhat of a profile before you landed, unable to pull her mind from her craft as usual. The depth of her contemplation saw her lip held between her teeth, her ceaseless concentration hindered the moment she had noticed your unswerving glare upon her. 

“What?” She drawled, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, partner,” you rebutted, defensively, betrayed by the growing smirk that broke out from your lips. “It’s just different, isn’t it?” You continued, observing as she set aside the case flies, submitting to blind curiosity. “We never work cases alone anymore, I guess I just miss it.”

A softened smile claimed her features, a subtle nod of her head signalling her understanding. You knew that Emily missed it too, knew that if policies and politics were not constantly at play then perhaps this would be permitted more often. 

“You know why that is,” she remarked, her brow quirking as she shuffled out from her seat and settled herself comfortably in your lap. “Besides, you can never behave yourself. I know you a little too well.”

An inquisitive hum reverberated, your thumbs brushing over her hips as you basked in the sight of her beneath the low lighting. 

“Worked up a profile on me, Agent Prentiss?” You questioned, facetiously as you gradually honed in, closing the distance between you, noses brushing against each other with discernible tenderness. “Do tell.”

Even in the dimness of the cabin, her dark eyes seemed to dazzle in contrast, destined to drown in her with no means of escape. Her hands clasped around the nape of your neck, her fingers securely intertwined as your body melted into hers, warmth radiating, persisting.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, coolly, her teeth piercing the murk with a bright, beguiling smile. “And you know I’m never wrong about a profile.”

Softly, you displaced the occluding strands of brunette, the pale skin of her neck revealed to you, a faint gasp falling from her.

“Tell me, Agent Prentiss,” you coaxed, daring to drag your lips along the side of her neck, your breath hot against her smooth skin. “What am I thinking about right now?”

Emily hummed in amusement, the rumblings of excitement finding home inside of her stomach as she craned her neck to allow further exploration of her, willing you into complete tantalisation. 

“Nothing good,” she husked, her voice low, exhilarating. “It never is.”

“You win,” you concluded, your smirk etching itself into her pulse point as you suckled a bruise into the porcelain, a menacing thrust of your hips revealing the toy that until now, remained concealed from her. “The question is, would you like to receive your prize here or on your back?”

The feeling of your lips against her neck had momentarily bewitched her, reality crashing down the moment she acknowledged something prodding into the junction of her thighs from below.

“You’re unbelievable,” she opined, rendered powerless against the tactics you had engaged and almost annoyed by her susceptibility. 

“And if my profile is correct, Agent Prentiss,” you began, her breath hitching abruptly from the re-emergence of your teasing ministrations, your tongue flecking across the scarlet mark you had branded her with earlier. “I bet you’re already wet.”

The brunette ducked in avoidance of your tongue, her palms enclosing around your cheeks, eyes trained on you with an expression you could not yet ascertain. But, you were certain that she would enlighten you. 

“Am I?” She countered, her lips tracing yours so gently that she nearly willed you into surrender, her power visibly restoring itself for a moment. “I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, hm?”

The tension brimmed until it overflowed in abundance, Emily launching herself with unrivalled desire, her mouth aimless as she kissed you messily. There were no thoughts to be had, driven by carnal magnetism, your hands fusing to her hips to draw her nearer. Instinct began to overtake her as she gyrated against the shrouded bulge, expertly so, intent on extracting as much friction as she could. And, she succeeded as anticipated. 

Expletives sprung from her mouth, unbridled filth, so engrossed by the way her clit ground perfectly against the toy that reality slipped from her grasp. Desperation was an understatement, her fist thudding forcefully against your chest, each rigid blow punctuated by a lengthened moan, your hand lifting to encircle her throat.

“Just like that, baby,” you encouraged, your lips crushing into hers for a brief moment before a low groan tore itself from her. “Cum for me, that’s it.”

“Fuck, baby.”

Emily trembled with vigour, a series of whimpers escaping her as she regained clarity, her breathing staggered as she relaxed into you, coils unwinding. She met your stare with a knowing expression, cheeks tinged pink. 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted, shaking her head lightly as she threw a light slap to your arm. “I blame you.”

“Fine with me,” you chuckled, pulling her flush against you once more, your mouth dangerously close to her ear. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

In a swift motion, you yanked her into a standing position, her mouth agape in disbelief having barely been able to gather her composure. Adept fingers hooked themselves below the waistband of her trousers and dragged them down without a flicker of reticence, Emily left to fluster before you, perplexed. 

“What are you-“

“You can give me one more, can’t you, baby?” You asked, sweetly, a cunning simper fused to your lips as you freed the strap on from its constriction. “It won’t fuck itself now, will it?”

Emily sank her teeth into her lips once more, a sharp exhale emanating once her stomach had flattened against the table, a biting pang of cold sparking inside of her. With her trousers bunched around her thighs, you vaulted into position, a gentle hand of reassurance caressing the length of her spine before you aligned the toy with her pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, the feeling of the tip sliding into her only sending her into a spiralling state, pleasure ricocheting. “Yes, baby.”

“That’s my good girl,” you cooed, shoving in to the hilt of her with ease, her pussy glistening from the arousal that had gathered from earlier. 

Patience was futile, the lust that filled the air so suffocating that it appeared to possess you, forging a reckless assault as you pounded into her from behind. Her body rocked with fervour, unable to arrive at a single coherent word, a few stuttering syllables pouring out from her. Your hand lurched forward, sights firmly set on grasping a sizeable fistful of hair as you forced her to take you deeper, harder, her neck elongated from the strength you had exhibited. 

“So good for me, baby,” you soothed, wholeheartedly enamoured by her submission, her little sounds furthering the delight. “Taking my cock so well, hm?”

“Ye-s, yes,” she rasped, her lungs deflating with every forceful slam of your hips. “You’re gonna make me cum,” she cautioned, breathlessly. “Gonna-“

The sound that released itself seemed to echo long after its initial existence, the air noticeably warmer, sizzling with body heat, with passion. Softly, you drew her into you and sank down into the cosy chair with her nestled firmly into you. Her soft breaths stymied the silence, a mindless smile cloaking her lips. 

“Thank you,” she spoke, her voice muffled lightly against you. 

“For what?” You asked, peering to discern the expression that donned her face and fearful to find a strange twinkle of validation, of victory.

“For proving my point,” she reasoned, a finger directed at your face in jest. “We are never working a case together, ever again.”

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@ionlylikemarvelforthewomen ♡ @agenderrat ♡ @i-write-sometimes-maybe ♡ @sugaryspiciness ♡ @chiefemilyprentiss

[mirohlayo]

SUCH A SIMP

( The monegasque driver has no problem showing himself to be particularly affectionate with you )

warning : fluff, charles spamming you with messages (but it's cute)

note : race week again bby

word count : 2.2k

Oh. It's funny how the monegasque who seems so confident turns into a real man unable to breathe properly when he's away from you.

A young woman who has only just taken her first steps in the incredible world of F1. You were able to apply for the red team, the italian Ferrari team. A great and majestic racing team whose name demands respect and recognition, especially for Italians. And you had just joined these motorsport gods in F1.

Finally, you are not in charge of the most difficult and relentless job either. You were recruited as a new social media manager, certainly with a lot of tasks to carry out, but undoubtedly a little less important than those of the racing engineers and strategists. However, the media is a source of content that fans of the sport love and your ultimate goal is to create the best videos and content possible for Ferrari.

So little by little, you appeared in the Ferrari motorhome. Your colleagues were starting to remember your face and your name, and after a good three weeks on the job, a lot of things had radically changed.

Firstly, you had integrated well into the Italian team. Good relationships and understandings with your colleagues. And secondly, and not least, a new form... of friendship - if we could describe it that way - was formed between you and the famous Monegasque Ferrari driver. Charles Leclerc.

The young man found himself curious about you, interested in this young new woman of his age who, despite the difficulty of the work, completed the tasks required in no time, a fairly perfectionist quality. It must be said that we can clearly see that she really likes this job. And this had intrigued Charles, who often found himself looking for the young brunette.

With the support of his teammate Carlos, who pushed him to take the plunge to try to approach you, Charles ended up introducing himself to you - as if you didn't already know him in this environment. He approached with a shy, almost nervous smile, while he could not hide his completely admiring, almost affectionate look. He struggled to form his sentences, far too dazzled by your sublime beauty and presence.

You seemed quite shy and reserved at first, and that was the case in everyday life. But that's what made you so charming, and Charles felt his heart beat harder and harder every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, a blush that appeared on your face and that he loved more and more.

You blink suddenly, as you start walking with your shoulders straight again in the paddock. You were so lost in your thoughts, remembering how this friendship between you and the driver had blossomed, that you hadn't noticed that the Ferrari motorhome was right in front of you.

The automatic doors open as you enter the small cube, shyly greeting the employees and your colleagues. “Hey, Y/n.” Carlos smiles at you kindly, happy to see you there. You hadn't set foot in the paddock for 2 weeks already, the team had offered you the opportunity to work remotely. You jumped at the opportunity, the chance to spend some time with your family during the week.

“How were your two weeks away from us? I bet you missed us” He winks at you, knowing deep down that a part of you was eager to get back to work there. "It was great. I got to enjoy a little bit with my family." You smile sincerely, remembering the activities you shared with your parents. “But it’s true that I missed working within the stable itself. And then, I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Carlos' smirk is evident, his arms crossed over his chest as he smiles more and more. You raise your eyebrows slightly, intrigued by his reaction. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?" Finally, he chuckles weakly as he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking about how a certain man here was also very, very excited to see you again” He purses his lips, narrowing his eyes, leaning down to your ear so he can speak in a low voice.

“And although I really like you Y/n, that man isn’t me. Besides, I’m sure he’s currently complaining about how much he misses you.” He stands up straight and gives you another wink, followed by another smirk. You feel your cheeks heat up, blush violently. You try to look away, embarrassed.

You know very well who Carlos wants to talk about. You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that it wasn't true and that it was only your conscience playing with you, but after Carlos' words, all these questions seem true. "Come on, go. You must have a lot of work, just like me. See you later, Y/n!" Carlos pats your shoulder as he walks further behind you.

You don't know how long you stood there in the middle of the motorhome floor, but long enough for you to think about what just happened. Carlos is always honest, and when he saw you in the presence of Charles, he did not hesitate to make some embarrassing remarks to you, like that the monegasque looked at you with hearts in his eyes or that he particularly liked to seek physical contact with you.

These remarks made you blush and Charles always seemed to become embarrassed, more shy than before as he begged Carlos to leave you alone. Because the Monegasque driver knows that his teammate is aware that he has a weakness for you. More than a weakling, he's literally a simp for you. But he really doesn't want you to know.

Or rather, he would like to but he's afraid of rushing you or of you not feeling the same way. After all, three weeks might be too early for you, but for Charles it was enough to make him completely lovesick for you.

You finally come to your senses, and after checking that your face is no longer completely red, you sit comfortably on the chair in your office. You finally got to work, responding to the last email you missed. A notification vibrated your phone, and glancing at the screen, you saw Charles' name.

You really wanted to continue working seriously, you had promised yourself to get back to work but the notification and the message from Charles were running through your head. So, despite yourself, you grab your phone and open your messages to click on the driver's message. Your gaze softens as you read it, your heart racing.

Charles Lec

I heard you finally arrived to the circuit. can't wait to see you again, miss you y/n :(

see you at the 11 o'clock meeting

The message makes you blush again, more lightly this time. But just with a simple message, Charles knows how to make your heart beat and put you in all your moods. He is charming, funny, and caring. Of course you had to fall in love with him. And Carlos' words said earlier secretly gave you hope. Hope for something deeper.

You were about to respond, but your eyes drifted to the messages he had sent you earlier in the month, specifically during your two weeks of remote working. And reading the messages, that's where Carlos' words took on their full meaning.

Charles Lec

07/06

i just learned that you are remote working, that's why I didn't find you at the paddock

i'm sad that you're not here but you also need to rest during these two weeks :(

miss u a lot

09/06

hello you ;) hope everything goes well.

i don't know if you saw the qualifying but I'm starting the race p11

the race will start soon, I hope you can still watch it

can't wait to see you again, gorgeous

still miss u

12/06

it's not race week but I would have liked to spend these few days with you but you work and you must surely enjoy your family

eat well and don't stay up too late, pretty girl

have a good day :))

14/06

i miss u y/n

i feel like it's been forever since I last saw you

I have already planned a few little things to do when you come back, call me back when you can :)

15/06

hello youu

In 1 week I'll see you again but I can't wait any longer

i think I'm gonna die if I don't talk to you right now

can i call u please? :(

16/06

i did a little workout today and I will continue next week

we see each other again in less than a week and all I can think about is that

take care sweetheart

miss you a lot lately :(

not just lately, miss u always, every single minute of the day

Everything seems to fit together like a puzzle. So Carlos was telling the truth, the man who is so eager to see you again is definitely Charles. Come to think of it, he texted you almost every day. To tell you how much he missed you and that he wanted to see you again, not forgetting to add a few pet names here and there.

This kind of revelation changes everything. Your feelings, the way you think and behave. You were still surprised at the idea that Charles could potentially love you the same way you love him. But there is no doubt about it, after everything that has just happened in a few minutes. And you didn't know if you were looking forward to going to the meeting or not.

But there you are, in front of the door to the small interview room. And as you enter, a little late, almost everyone is there. You can feel several eyes on you, but one is undeniable. Charles is there, sitting, his gaze completely glued to you, totally absorbed and attracted by you alone. He follows you with his eyes, completely in love, while your angelic beauty completely takes his breath away. Oh, he missed your face so much.

You move towards your chair, painfully avoiding meeting his burning gaze. But after all, it's impossible. Why would you want to avoid him, when he certainly feels the same way as you.

So, calmly, you sit down, you take your pen between your fingers, and taking a deep breath, you end up laying your eyes on him. You meet his gaze and there, time seems to stop for a moment. His eyes burn into your face, and your breath catches. But a shy smile, which ends up widening, takes its place on the driver's face. And, shyly, you smile back.

And during this meeting, you couldn't help but glance at each other a few times. And in Charles' head, everything was panicking. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go. He wanted to spend every next minute by your side, making you smile and laugh until you lost control. He wanted to stay for hours admiring you, listening to you speak with your sweet voice. He was finally able to live and breathe properly.

The meeting ends, you take a strangely long time to put away the few things you had brought with you. And Charles strangely seems to take care to say goodbye to each of the people who leave the room. So that in the end, you find yourself alone in the room. No one speaks, your gaze each focused on the corners of the room. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Charles finally approached you.

So close, that he ends up wrapping his arms around your waist, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You practically melt in his embrace, as you return the favor, your hands gently caressing his back. “I missed you so, so much.” His voice is muffled. You giggle weakly, and just that little laugh melts Charles' heart.

"Carlos informed me that a certain person here was very eager to see me again, hmm?". Your shy nature wasn't the type to tease people, but seeing Charles like this made him absolutely adorable and you couldn't help but tease him a little. He groans, because he knows that as soon as he meets Carlos again, he will make him understand that he, on the contrary, will never look forward to seeing him again. But for now, he's just enjoying the moment.

"If it's to be able to stay in your arms like this, then yes I assume that this person is me. And now that you are here, you are certainly not going to leave me." And in an overconfidence, he pulls back just enough to place a soft, long kiss on your cheek, while his hands gently squeeze your hips. The sudden touch makes you jump slightly, and your face doesn't fail to show your embarrassment as it turns a pretty pink.

Which absolutely makes Charles laugh, totally captivated by you. But he absolutely didn't expect you to kiss him back, on his cheek already crimson from the contact of your lips on his skin. The room is suddenly filled with giggles, while the two secret lovers, or rather the two idiots in love who see their relationship blossom into something more beautiful, remain there for a while longer, in each other's arms.

And Carlos, who wanted to make his way into the room to collect his Ferrari cap, had observed everything from the doorway. A huge grin on his face, he finally rolled his eyes, amused. “Such a simp.” He whispers these words, which, without a doubt, perfectly reflect reality. Because yes, Charles is just a simp for you.

[leaderwonim]

smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.

pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader

summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.

author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!

Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.

“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”

“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”

Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.

“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.

“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”

“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.

“Why do you care so much Won?”

“I don’t.”

It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.

Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.

When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.

He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.

You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.

Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.

“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”

Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.

You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.

“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.

You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.

“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”

You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.

Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.

It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.

“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.

“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.

“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”

“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”

“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”

Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”

“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.

“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.

“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”

Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Sweet

Summary: Y/N knows Spencer is too good for her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), angst, light fluff

Warnings/Includes: porn with plot, additional warnings under the cut, cosplay, wearing dress, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption

Word count: 11.9k

a/n: idk man i really want him

main masterlist

part two part three

Additional warnings: breast & nipple play, fingering, oral (m&f), PinV protected, biting

The convention hall buzzed with excitement, filled with an array of fans dressed as their favorite characters from the iconic series, Doctor Who. The air was alive with the chatter of people discussing their favorite episodes, theories about the show's plot twists, and the inevitable debates about which Doctor was the best. Vendors lined the walls, offering everything from collectible sonic screwdrivers to handmade TARDIS keychains.

Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia were two of these enthusiastic attendees. Spencer was dressed impeccably as his favorite Doctor, the Eleventh, complete with a tweed jacket, bow tie, and fez perched jauntily on his head. Penelope, meanwhile, dazzled as the vibrant Thirteenth Doctor, sporting a rainbow-striped shirt, long coat, and bright yellow suspenders. Her hair was styled to perfection, and she wore a replica of the Thirteenth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver clipped to her belt.

They had spent the day gleefully exploring the convention together, indulging in all the nerdy joys the event had to offer. Panels, merchandise, photo ops with actors—they were having a fantastic time. They even participated in a trivia contest, which Spencer naturally excelled in, earning them a special edition Doctor Who poster. Everything was going splendidly until they ran into Penelope's ex, Kevin Lynch, who had the audacity to show up with his new date, a tall brunette who seemed to be equally as nerdy as Penelope.

Penelope's face fell as she spotted Kevin, her previous enthusiasm dimming slightly. She forced a smile and waved at Kevin, who looked surprised but waved back, a bit awkwardly.

"Penelope!" Kevin said, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably. "It's, uh, great to see you here."

"Yeah, you too, Kevin," Penelope replied, her voice wavering slightly as she glanced at his date. She couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment and an awkward tension that hung in the air.

The encounter was brief, but it left Penelope feeling deflated. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she quickly excused herself and turned to Spencer, whispering that she needed a moment alone. Spencer nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with empathy, and watched as Penelope hurried off, clearly upset.

Now alone amidst the bustling crowd, Spencer found himself wandering around the convention hall, a bit lost without Penelope by his side. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people who shared his interests, he felt an uncomfortable sense of solitude creeping in. He adjusted his bow tie nervously, his eyes scanning the room for a friendly face or familiar sight.

As he wandered, Spencer couldn't help but feel self-conscious, almost like a lost puppy in a sea of strangers. The convention was vast, and though he loved the atmosphere, it was a lot to take in alone. He fiddled with his fez, trying to focus on the displays and booths around him, but the sense of being out of place lingered.

It was then that he noticed you, standing a short distance away, dressed as the most enchanting character from Doctor Who—Madame de Pompadour, The Girl in the Fireplace.

Your costume was a stunning recreation of the elegant 18th-century dress worn by Reinette, complete with intricate lace details, flowing skirts, and an opulent corset that captured the character's timeless beauty. A perfectly styled wig with cascading curls crowned your head, adding an authentic touch to your ensemble. You wore a delicate mask in your hand, which you twirled absentmindedly as you observed the convention floor, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Spencer with an amused curiosity. But what struck Spencer most was your warm smile, a beacon of kindness amidst the chaos.

You had noticed Spencer earlier, observing him with a gentle curiosity as he meandered through the crowd. Something about his endearing awkwardness and the way he carried himself drew your attention, and you found yourself walking over to him, compelled by a mix of admiration and empathy.

With a kind and playful smile, you approached him and said, "Hey, you look lost. Do you need help finding your parents?"

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise at your teasing comment, and he let out a surprised snort, momentarily caught off guard. He quickly recovered from his initial embarrassment and noticed the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

"Uh, no, no thank you," he replied with a sheepish grin. "I was given permission to look around by myself."

Your laughter was infectious, and Spencer felt the tightness in his chest ease. It was as if your presence alone had a calming effect, grounding him in the moment and reminding him that he wasn't truly alone. Your genuine kindness and humor were like a breath of fresh air.

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, still smiling as you playfully curtsied. "I'm Y/N, by the way. A fellow time traveler, it seems."

Spencer hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly at the waist, feeling a little more confident now. "Spencer Reid," he replied, introducing himself. "And yes, it seems we both have a knack for getting lost in time."

Your shared laugh seemed to lighten the atmosphere, and Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for your unexpected companionship. It was a simple moment, yet it carried a weight of significance—an unexpected connection made in the most delightful of circumstances.

As the vibrant crowd continued to flow around you, your conversation with Spencer felt like a moment suspended in time, a quiet bubble amidst the lively chaos of the convention. The laughter, chatter, and occasional shout of delight from fellow fans echoed through the hall, but you found yourself entirely focused on the man standing before you.

"So, Spencer," you began, looking around at the lively crowd, "what's been your favorite part of the convention so far?"

“Well, I won the trivia contest!” Spencer replied with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I love seeing everyone’s costumes too, the creativity and thought they put into them is inspiring. And the food court! Did you see they have—why are you looking at me like that? Am I rambling? Oh, I am, hah, sorry.”

You chuckled softly, finding his rambling endearing. “Don’t stop on my account; I happen to think it’s very cute.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your compliment. “You… you do?”

“Indeed, Doctor,” you replied with a playful glint in your eye.

“How did you know I’m a doctor?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Um…” you pointed at his costume, a classic Doctor Who ensemble that perfectly captured the essence of the Eleventh Doctor. 

“Oh! Right, you meant Doctor Who Doctor,” he realized, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, but are you really a doctor?” you inquired, intrigued by the idea of him being both a fictional and real-life doctor.

Spencer nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of humility and pride. “I have three PhDs.”

“Oh wow, that’s hot,” you said, your voice teasing yet sincere, enjoying the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

“What?” he squeaked, clearly flustered by your unexpected compliment.

“Tell me, Spencer… do you have plans after the convention?” you asked, leaning in slightly, your interest in him evident.

“Um, no, nope. No, I do not. Totally free,” Spencer stammered, trying to keep his composure but feeling his heart race at the prospect of spending more time with you.

“Good to know,” you replied with a warm smile. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“I would love to,” he answered, his voice brimming with exhilaration.

“Wonderful,” you said, pleased with his response.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a small gesture that felt monumental, sealing the promise of further connection beyond the convention's vibrant confines. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

As he watched you disappear into the colorful sea of costumes, you turned back to Spencer, your heart still racing with the promise of more time together. “I’ll see you later, Spencer,” you said, offering him one last lingering smile before slipping away into the crowd.

Spencer stood there for a moment, his mind whirling with possibilities and the thrill of new connections. As he adjusted his fez and prepared to rejoin Penelope, he smiled to himself, the Doctor Who theme echoing in the distance as he headed back into the lively fray.

—

Later that night, you and Spencer agreed to meet up at a cozy little bar nestled in a bustling neighborhood near your apartment. The day had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure at the Doctor Who convention, but now, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights twinkled, a new kind of eagerness filled the air.

You arrived at the bar first, filled with anticipation and nervousness. Gone was the elegant 18th-century gown you wore at the convention; you now wore a low-cut, tight shirt that hugged your curves and showed off a bit more cleavage than before. It was a bold choice, one that made you feel confident and sexy, and you hoped Spencer would appreciate it.

As you waited for Spencer to arrive, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of fever at seeing him again. Something about his awkward charm and genuine kindness had struck a chord with you, and you were eager to see where the evening might lead.

When Spencer walked in, your breath caught at the sight of him. Gone was the Eleventh Doctor costume, replaced by a classic sweater vest ensemble that was quintessentially Spencer Reid. He wore a crisp button-down shirt under the vest, paired with slacks that somehow made him look both dorky and endearingly handsome. You found it incredibly attractive, and a smile tugged at your lips as he approached.

“Hey,” he said, a bit shyly, his eyes darting around the bar before settling on you. When he noticed your outfit, he froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of your low-cut shirt. “Wow, you look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture. “I, uh, didn’t know what to wear, but I’m glad it works.”

“Oh, it definitely works,” you assured him, your gaze lingering on his sweater vest. “I have a thing for sweater vests.”

He laughed, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Good to know. I have plenty of them.”

You motioned for him to join you at the bar, where you ordered drinks and settled into a comfortable conversation. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the hum of conversations surrounding you.

“So, how did you get into Doctor Who?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’ve always been a fan of science fiction,” you replied, leaning closer to ensure he could hear you over the chatter. “The idea of time travel, the adventures, and the characters just drew me in. Plus, the show has this amazing ability to make you think about life in new ways.”

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased with your answer. “I completely agree. The show is more than just entertainment; it’s a way to explore complex ideas and emotions. I think that’s why it resonates with so many people.”

“Exactly!” you said enthusiastically, enjoying the ease of conversation between you. “And what about you? What drew you to the series?”

Spencer shrugged, his eyes twinkling with the joy of discussing something he loved. “It started as a way to escape, I guess. Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends, but Doctor Who was like a companion, in a way. It taught me a lot about empathy and bravery.”

You smiled, touched by his honesty. “That’s really great, Spencer.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a bit bashful under your gaze. “I’m glad I met someone who appreciates the show as much as I do.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of words that brought you closer with each exchange. You found yourself laughing easily, the tension of earlier dissipating as you both shared stories and jokes, losing track of time in the warm ambiance of the bar.

As the night wore on, you noticed Spencer stealing glances at your shirt, his eyes flickering to your cleavage before quickly averting his gaze, trying to be polite. You couldn’t help but find his flustered reactions adorable, and you decided to tease him a little.

“Is there something interesting over here?” you asked, gesturing to your chest with a playful grin.

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he stammered, “Uh, no, I mean, yes, but—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly. “Relax, Spencer. I don’t mind. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

He exhaled, clearly relieved by your response. “Well, in that case, yes, it’s very distracting,” he admitted, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Good to know I still have it,” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You definitely do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the promise of more to come. As the night deepened, the conversation shifted from playful banter to something more intimate, the chemistry between you undeniable.

“So, Spencer,” you said, your voice dropping to a more sultry tone. “What does the rest of your night look like? Are you all booked up?”

“Um, no, not really,” he replied, his heart racing as he caught the glint in your eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, “I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place. We could continue our conversation somewhere a bit more private.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, his mind spinning with possibilities. “I would love that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Great,” you replied with a smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you both stood up, ready to leave the bar behind for the promise of what awaited you.

The walk back to your apartment was filled with a charged silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. You felt Spencer’s presence beside you, a comforting warmth that made your heart race with excitement.

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to him, your eyes meeting in a shared understanding. “This is me,” you said, gesturing to the entrance.

“Nice place,” Spencer commented, trying to keep his cool despite the nerves bubbling inside him.

You unlocked the door and led him inside, your heart pounding with each step. The atmosphere was electric, one that promised something incredible.

Once inside, you turned to face Spencer, a playful smile on your lips. “Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing to the cozy living room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water would be great,” he replied, trying to steady his racing heart.

You nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses of water. As you handed one to Spencer, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, sitting down beside him on the couch. The proximity was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building with each passing second.

“I have to say, I’m really glad we met today.” Spencer said, his voice slightly shaky. 

“Me too,” you agreed, your gaze locked on his.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world fading away until it was just the two of you, enveloped in a bubble of connection and desire.

As you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his, Spencer’s breath hitched in suspense. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull drawing you together.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft caress.

“Yes?” he replied, his eyes searching yours, filled with longing.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you asked, your words laced with an invitation that left little room for doubt.

Spencer swallowed, his heart racing as he processed your offer. “I’d love to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

With that, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a moment that transcended the ordinary and ventured into the extraordinary.

Spencer kissed you back with a low whimper as he began to ravish you. His lips were soft and urgent against yours, moving with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the strain in his body as he pressed against you, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The heat between you was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark and crackle in the air around you.

You responded eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of the lingering sweetness of the drinks you'd shared earlier and something distinctly Spencer that made you crave more.

Spencer's hands moved with a purpose, exploring the curves of your body with a gentle yet insistent touch that left you breathless. His fingertips traced the outline of your spine, sending delightful tingles through your skin as they traveled lower, coming to rest on the small of your back. You arched into his touch, pressing your body more firmly against his, savoring the feel of him against you.

With a quiet moan, Spencer shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying beneath him on the couch. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath warm and ragged against your lips as he gazed down at you with a smoldering intensity. The look in his eyes sent a thrill through you, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips once more as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was both tender and demanding, a perfect balance that left you yearning for more. You felt his fingers trail over your exposed skin, slipping beneath the fabric of your low-cut shirt, and you shivered in anticipation as he began to explore further.

The sensation of his hands against your bare skin was electrifying, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, an insistent ache that begged for more as Spencer's touch became more insistent. His hands roamed over your body with a confidence that contradicted the initial shyness you had seen in him earlier.

Your shirt slipped further up your torso, and Spencer's lips left yours to follow the path his hands had traced moments before. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and across your collarbone. Each kiss was a promise, a vow of what was to come, and you found yourself lost in the sensations he was creating.

As Spencer's mouth traveled lower, you let out a soft sigh of pleasure, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater vest. The texture of the material beneath your fingertips was a comforting contrast to the fiery sensations his lips and hands were invoking, grounding you even as you felt yourself soaring.

Spencer's lips moved over the swell of your breasts, his touch reverent yet possessive, as if he were memorizing every inch of your skin with his mouth. You felt a thrill at the thought of being the focus of his attention. 

Spencer’s lips ghosted over your skin, each kiss sending waves of heat coursing through your body. As he reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his fingers gently teasing the hem as he looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Are you planning on keeping this on all night?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You chuckled softly, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “Well, Doctor, I thought I’d give you something to unwrap. Consider it a mystery.”

Spencer grinned, his fingers deftly pulling your shirt higher until it slipped over your head, leaving you exposed beneath him. His gaze raked over your bare skin, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Mystery solved,” he whispered, his tone filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your skin tingling. “You’re a fast learner,” you replied, your voice sultry as you reached up to pull him back down to you. “But let’s see if you can handle what’s next.”

His eyes darkened with intensity at your challenge, and he captured your lips in another heated kiss, his hands exploring your newly exposed skin with renewed vigor. The sensations were dizzying, each touch and caress a testament to his growing confidence and desire.

Spencer’s hands traveled down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You let out a quiet moan, arching into his touch as he began to work them down, his fingers deft and sure.

“Getting a bit bold, aren’t we?” you teased, nipping at his lower lip as he freed you from the confines of your clothing.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” he retorted, his voice tinged with amusement as he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

You reached for the hem of his sweater vest, tugging it upwards with a playful smirk. “I think it’s time we even the playing field, don’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his arms to help you remove the vest, followed by his button-down shirt. You couldn’t help but appreciate the lean muscles beneath his clothing, the way his skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

“Not bad, Doctor,” you quipped, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest appreciatively. “Maybe I should have gone to med school.”

Spencer let out a low laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I doubt they teach this in med school.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a course or two,” you replied, your fingers trailing lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.

He inhaled sharply, his body responding to your touch in a way that made you both feel like you were on fire. “I think we’re about to graduate to something more advanced,” he murmured, his voice a mix of fieriness and teasing.

You grinned, pulling him back down to you, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss that promised more than words ever could. The heat between you was intense, a consuming fire that left you both breathless and wanting more.

Spencer’s hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of your skin with a reverence that made your heart race. You could feel the tension building, a delicious feeling that promised to leave you both satisfied yet craving even more.

As you shifted beneath him, your body pressed against his in a way that made your intentions clear, you whispered, “What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Lead the way,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With that, you guided him toward your bedroom, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like an electric charge. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the enticing possibilities that lay ahead.

Once inside your bedroom, the atmosphere shifted, the intimacy of the space amplifying the pull between you. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, creating an intimate bubble that felt like it was just for you and Spencer.

You turned to face him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you slowly backed toward the bed. “I hope you’re ready for this, Doctor.”

He followed, his movements confident and sure as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been ready since the moment I saw you,” he replied, his voice low and filled with want.

As you sank onto the bed, Spencer joined you, his body warm and inviting against yours. The tension between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing second.

You reached for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him in for another searing kiss. His lips were soft and insistent against yours, his touch possessive as he pressed you back against the sheets. The mattress dipped under your combined weight, and you felt the cool, crisp fabric of the sheets beneath your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Spencer’s body.

Spencer’s breath mingled with yours, warm and intoxicating with desire. His hands traveled with a deliberate slowness, exploring the curves and contours of your body as though committing every inch to memory. You felt his fingers skim over the bare skin of your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation was electric, sending delightful tingles coursing through your veins.

As he deepened the kiss, a low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating through your body and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. Your hands found their way to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin as you pulled him closer, craving the warmth and weight of him against you.

His lips moved with a languid, teasing rhythm, exploring the delicate skin of your neck with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that sent your heart racing. You tilted your head back, granting him better access as a soft sigh escaped your lips, filling the room with a quiet sound of pleasure.

Spencer’s kisses trailed lower, his breath hot against your skin as he made his way down your collarbone. The sensation was intoxicating, a delicious mix of tenderness and urgency that left you breathless. You felt his hands slide up your sides, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ribcage before coming to rest on your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers threading through his hair as you arched into his touch. “Get to the point, Doctor.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and enticing, as he shifted his weight to hover above you, his eyes dark with longing. The air between you crackled with intensity, a potent mix of suspense and need that seemed to draw you even closer together.

Your breathing grew ragged, each inhale a shuddering gasp as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Spencer’s touch was like a drug, addictive and all-consuming, leaving you dizzy with longing.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering between you. You nodded, giving him the permission he sought, and he smiled—a small, intimate curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat.

Spencer hands deftly working to remove the last barriers between you. The sensation of the cool air against your skin was a delicious contrast to the heat radiating from his touch, sending shivers of need cascading through your body.

The room was filled with a symphony of soft sounds: the rustle of fabric as Spencer undressed you, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the rapid, excited beat of your own heart. The smell of your mingled scents—his cologne, a hint of your perfume, and the unmistakable musk of arousal—filled the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that heightened every sensation.

As Spencer’s hands continued their journey, his lips followed, pressing soft, heated kisses to every inch of exposed skin. The feel of his mouth against your body was electric, each kiss a spark that ignited a fire deep within you. You could hear the quiet, appreciative noises he made as he explored, a low hum of approval that vibrated through you, making your skin tingle with fever.

His mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, and he lingered there, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin and his teeth scraping behind. The sensation was exquisite, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as he continued his ministrations.

His mouth continued its journey, trailing kisses down the length of your torso, his breath hot and humid against your skin. Each touch of his lips was a promise, a hint of the pleasures yet to come. You could feel the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin, a delightful roughness that added to the sensory overload.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your thighs, his fingers curling around the soft flesh as he gently parted them, creating space for himself between your legs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a sweet ache that thrummed through your veins as you waited for his next move.

He paused for a moment, his breath warm and heavy against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. The look in his eyes sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a silent communication of his intentions that left you breathless.

When he finally moved, it was with a purpose and a tenderness that took your breath away. His mouth found its mark, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the most intimate part of you. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that left you gasping and trembling beneath him.

Spencer's tongue traced a path of fire, the wet heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the cool air around you. The feeling of his tongue against you was indescribable, a perfect blend of softness and pressure that had you writhing with need. You could hear the wet, rhythmic sounds of his movements, a deliciously sinful symphony that filled the room and drove you wild with desire.

The taste of you seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more insistent, more confident as he explored every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he lavished attention on you, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

You could feel the tension building, a tight coil of desire that wound tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to hold on, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations Spencer was creating.

And then, with a final, masterful stroke of his tongue, the coil snapped, sending you spiraling into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your body arched off the bed, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips as you surrendered to the intense release. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite, the pleasure radiating out from your core in waves that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

Spencer didn't stop, his movements gentling but never ceasing as he guided you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent and boneless beneath him. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the beating of your heart.

As the world slowly came back into focus, you felt Spencer's weight shift, his body sliding up to join you on the bed. He gathered you into his arms, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek, the warmth of his skin a comforting presence that grounded you.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "I may have misread you…" you murmured, your voice still breathless from the intensity of the experience.

Spencer looked at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he tried to read your expression. "How so?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat through you.

“I thought you were some nerdy dork who wouldn’t know what to do,” you confessed with a teasing grin, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You proved me so wrong.”

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm like honey, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the intense passion you'd just shared.

As the warmth of his kiss lingered on your skin, a flicker of awareness crept into your mind, reminding you of the vulnerability of your current position. Spencer was undeniably pretty, fun, and, as you had just discovered, incredibly talented with his mouth. But letting him get too close, emotionally, was a different matter—a potential disaster waiting to happen.

You felt a pang of uncertainty, a reminder that you'd let yourself get carried away in the heat of everything today. The thought of letting him see more of you, of exposing the parts of yourself you kept hidden, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gently, you scooted away, creating a small space between you on the bed. Spencer watched you with a slight frown, his brow furrowing in concern as he noticed the shift in your demeanor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… taking a breather.”

He nodded, understanding but still curious. The moment hung between you, a delicate balance of intimacy and distance that you both navigated carefully.

Wanting to redirect the focus and return the favor, you shifted onto your knees, your movements deliberate and confident. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you, questioning flickering in his gaze.

You leaned forward, letting your hands glide over the planes of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The sensation was intoxicating, each touch sending a spark of desire through your body as you explored the contours of his torso.

“Now, Doctor,” you said, your voice low and teasing, “I think it’s my turn to show you what I can do.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you with rapt attention. “I’m not going to stop you,” he replied, a playful edge to his voice as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to give you full access.

You grinned, pleased by his response as you moved lower, your hands trailing down the length of his body. The texture of his skin was smooth and warm under your touch, each muscle firm and defined as you explored every inch with a deliberate slowness that made his breath catch.

The room was filled with the quiet rustle of sheets, the soft sounds of your movements as you shifted to straddle his legs, your body settling comfortably between his thighs. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged energy that seemed to crackle with each passing second.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your lips. The sensation was exhilarating, a rush of power and intimacy that left you wanting more.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations you were creating. The sound sent a thrill through you, a confirmation of the effect you had on him, and it spurred you on, encouraging you to continue your exploration.

You let your hands wander lower, tracing the line of his waistband before slipping beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers. Spencer’s breath hitched again, a soft, needy sound that made your heart race.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice a teasing whisper as you glanced up at him, enjoying the way his eyes were half-lidded with desire, his lips parted in want.

Spencer nodded, his voice a breathless murmur. “Mhm.”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him so open and vulnerable beneath you. It was a heady feeling, one that made you want to give him everything you had, to explore every inch of him and discover all the ways you could make him come undone.

With a gentle touch, you eased his pants lower, revealing more of the skin you so desperately wanted to explore. The cool air kissed his skin, sending a shiver through him as you continued your ministrations, your hands and lips moving with a purposeful intent that left him gasping.

The texture of his skin under your fingers was smooth and warm, a contrast to the slightly rough fabric of his pants as they slid down his legs. You could feel the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. The cool air seemed to heighten every sensation, sharpening the feeling of your touch against his bare skin.

As you explored lower, you could hear the soft, almost involuntary sounds Spencer made in response to your touch—a quiet gasp, a low moan, the sharp intake of breath when you grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Each sound proving the effect you were having on him, encouraging you to continue your exploration with renewed confidence.

You leaned in, your lips brushing over the expanse of skin just above his waistband, savoring the slightly salty taste of him. The feel of your mouth against his skin drew another low groan from Spencer, a needy sound that reverberated through your body and filled the room.

The slight roughness of his sparse hair beneath your lips was a contrast to the smooth skin of his abdomen, and you reveled in the differences, your fingers dancing over every inch as you memorized the planes and angles of his body. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to explore further.

With every touch and kiss, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a palpable energy that seemed to thrumming in the air around you. His muscles tensed under your hands, responding to your every movement with a sensitivity that only served to heighten your own arousal.

His hips shifted slightly, an involuntary movement that brought him closer to you, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. The friction of your touch against him was a delicious torment, each caress, each brush of your lips a promise of the release he so desperately craved.

You continued down, your mouth trailing lower with a deliberate slowness that was as much for your pleasure as it was for his. The taste of his skin lingered on your lips, a reminder of the connection you shared, the chemistry that burned brightly between you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you closer to his bulge that you had been neglecting, his touch both gentle and insistent. The slight tug at your scalp sent a shiver through you, a thrill of eagerness that urged you to continue your exploration with even more fervor.

Your lips traveled lower, past where he wanted you, tracing a path along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh with your lips and tongue, where you could feel the taut muscle beneath. The sensation of his skin against your lips, the warmth of his body, the subtle tremor that ran through him as you pressed a lingering kiss to his hip—all of it combined to create a heady mix of sensations that left you breathless.

The soft rustle of the sheets beneath you was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet, rhythmic hum of Spencer’s breathing and the occasional low moan that slipped past his lips. You could feel the way his body responded to your touch with an eagerness that mirrored your own. It was a dance of give and take, a perfect harmony of movements and sensations that left you both on the edge of control.

Spencer’s hands tightened in your hair, a gentle reminder of his presence, his need, and you responded by drawing him deeper into the sensations, your touch sure and steady as you worked to bring him closer to the edge. 

Finally, putting the poor man out of his misery, you hooked your fingers in his waistband and pulled his briefs down. Exposing him to the cool air, causing him to shiver. Then, because you’re not a monster, you licked a slow stripe up the side of his red, hard cock, causing a very loud groan to fall from between Spencer's lips.

The moment stretched out, filled with a tension that was both electric and tangible. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet rhythm that underscored the intense moment.

Your fingers brushed against his skin, tracing a delicate path along the line of his hip bone. You could feel the subtle tremor that ran through him. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to continue your exploration with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperate.

Spencer’s body was a study in contrasts—the hard lines of muscle beneath the softness of skin, the way he shivered under your touch even as he leaned into it, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. 

The cool air caressed his exposed skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your touch. You watched as goosebumps erupted along his flesh, a physical manifestation of his heightened arousal. The sight sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a reminder of the power you held in this moment.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his cock as you placed a soft, lingering kiss along the tip. The taste of him was addictive, a heady mix of salt and musk that left you wanting more. The feeling of his skin beneath your lips was electric, sending shivers of excitement through your body.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, a low, primal sound that reverberated through the room and sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His hands found their way, deeper somehow, in your hair, his grip firm and steady as he urged you closer, his need evident in the way he moved you.

His cock twitched in response to your touch, the sensation was dizzying, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that left you breathless. You allowed your fingers to explore further, tracing a slow, deliberate path along the length of his shaft. The texture was smooth and warm, a perfect contrast to the cool air that surrounded you. You could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, a testament to his struggle to maintain control in the face of such intense sensation.

“Please, please do something,” Spencer nearly whined, his voice tinged with desperation as he watched you with wide eyes, his body trembling with need.

As you finally leaned in, allowing your mouth to join the dance of sensation and touch, you heard Spencer’s breath hitch in his throat, a quiet sound of desire that filled the room. The taste of him on your tongue was intoxicating, a rich, heady mix of salt and musk that left you craving more.

The moment your lips made contact, Spencer released a shuddering exhale, his body responding to the heat of your mouth with a visceral intensity that took your breath away. His hips shifted involuntarily, each movement sending ripples of sensation through your body as well.

The sound of your mouth against his skin was almost hypnotic, a rhythmic whisper that echoed through the room, mingling with Spencer's soft moans and the quiet rustle of the sheets beneath him. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his abdomen as he tried to steady his breathing, the quiet hitch in his breath every time you shifted, adjusted your grip, or took him deeper.

His taste lingered on your tongue as you bobbed your head along his shaft. The feeling of his smooth, taught skin between your lips only caused the mess between your thighs to grow. You were soaking wet at the sight of the man who so confidently took you apart, writhing at the feeling of your mouth on him. 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to hold onto the last ounce of his control. His touch was gentle but insistent, a silent plea for you to continue, to explore every inch of him until he was lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you were so skillfully creating.

As you continued your ministrations, you couldn't help but revel in the power you held over him, the way you could make his body respond to your every touch, your every movement. It was intoxicating, the thrill of being the one to unravel him, to bring him to the edge and watch as he teetered there, a breathless, trembling mess beneath you.

The quiet, involuntary sounds that slipped past his lips were music to your ears, a symphony of pleasure and need that urged you on, pushing you to explore further, to discover every hidden reaction, every secret spot that made him gasp and moan.

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving with each breath as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a living thing that pulsed and throbbed in your mouth, begging for release.

With each pass of your mouth, each flick of your tongue, you felt him draw nearer to the brink, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that left you both trembling with need. You pulled up to his tip, sucking harshly and greedily taking down the precum you were rewarded. 

“Fuck, fuck, Y/N. You have to pull off, I’m gonna—”

Finally, as you felt him begin to unravel beneath you, his grip on your hair tightening, you knew he was on the verge of release. The realization sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a sense of accomplishment at having brought him to this point, this state of utter abandon.

But, you pulled off, just as he asked.

His eyes fluttered open, glazed with desire, and a mixture of relief and frustration washed over his features. The air between you was charged with electricity, thick as you gazed up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a low, rough whisper filled with gratitude and a hint of desperation. His hands remained in your hair, holding you there as if afraid you might disappear, the heat of his skin still pulsing beneath your touch.

You sat back on your heels, his hands falling, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you surveyed the man before you. Spencer lay sprawled across the bed, a beautiful mess of tousled hair, flushed skin, and a very hard cock leaning on his tummy.

“Didn’t want to spoil the fun too soon?” you teased, your voice sultry and full of promise.

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement and unabashed desire. “I didn’t expect you to be so... good at this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with awe as he watched you with a newfound appreciation.

“Surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached out to trail your fingers lazily along his thigh, feeling the residual tremor of his muscles beneath your touch.

“Pleasantly,” he replied, his voice rich with honesty as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

“Well, the night’s not over yet,” you said, your tone full of suggestion as you shifted your position, moving with a deliberate slowness that kept Spencer’s gaze locked onto you. The dim lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over your skin, highlighting every curve and angle as you made your intentions clear.

Spencer watched you, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing. You were presenting yourself to him, offering yourself. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat through his already overwrought senses.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, a sensual dance that had Spencer transfixed, his breath catching in his throat as he watched you. You turned slightly, your back arching gracefully, presenting your body to him in a way that left no doubt about what you wanted. The smoothness of your skin and the glistening of your core caught the light, every curve accentuated by the shadows, and Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze travel over you, taking in every detail, every nuance.

“You like what you see, Doctor?” you teased with a shake of your hips, your voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

His response was a low, almost guttural sound that spoke volumes, a wordless expression of the desire that burned so brightly within him. He shifted slightly, his body tense as his hands reached out as if drawn to you by an invisible force.

“I like it very much,” he murmured, his voice a husky blend of awe and hunger as he drank in the sight of you. The way you held yourself, the confidence in your gaze, the promise of what was to come—it was all intoxicating, drawing him in and leaving him utterly captivated.

Spencer moved closer, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath him a quiet accompaniment to the sounds and sensations of desire that filled the room. Your skin was warm under Spencer’s touch as his hands found their way to your hips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that left you both breathless.

The feeling of his hands on you was electric, a perfect blend of tenderness and urgency that made your heart race and your senses sing. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers of pleasure racing through your body, leaving you aching for more, your skin hypersensitive to every nuance of his touch.

Spencer’s hands traveled with a gentle insistence, mapping the contours of your body with a touch that was both reverent and possessive. You could feel the subtle tremor in his fingers, the heat of his palms as they pressed against your ass.

His breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low murmur as he whispered, “You’re so sexy.” The words sent a thrill through you, a spark that ignited a fire in your belly and left you yearning for more of his touch, more of the sensations that seemed to flood your senses with every passing moment.

You turned your head slightly, your lips finding his in a kiss that was equal parts tenderness and demand. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of warmth and spice that made your heart race and your senses reel.

Spencer pulled away, and you felt the bed shift as he repositioned himself behind you. The room was filled with a quiet hum of anticipation, the air thick with the charged tension between you. You could feel his gaze on you, a tangible heat that seemed to sear into your skin.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice a low, rumbling purr that sent a shiver down your spine. There was an earnestness in his question, a genuine desire to ensure that you were comfortable and ready.

“Positive, Doctor,” you replied, the words laced with playful confidence as you glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze. The term of endearment had become a safeguard to you, not wanting to get too used to saying his name.

Spencer’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm and relief, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of embarrassment as he admitted his unpreparedness.

“You don’t?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. It was a playful jab, meant to lighten the mood and add a touch of humor to the charged atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect this to happen…” Spencer admitted, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as he chuckled awkwardly. 

“That’s really sweet, actually,” you replied, your voice softening as you took in the sight of him. The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. “Yes, I do,” you confirmed, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Let me up real quick.”

Spencer playfully groaned, a sound filled with exaggerated reluctance as he shifted to give you space. But before you could move, he leaned down, leaving a small, teasing bite on your asscheek—a cheeky gesture that sent a spark of pleasure through you.

“Down, boy!” you teased, your voice a mock admonishment as you slipped out of his grasp, your feet finding the floor with a soft thud. You cast a playful glance back at him, enjoying the sight of him sprawled on the bed, watching you while he pulled on his own cock.

As you turned back to the bed, condom in hand, you found Spencer watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—was both thrilling and humbling.

“Got it,” you announced, your voice a playful sing-song as you waved the packet in the air. Spencer’s eyes lit up with amusement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you return to the bed.

You climbed back onto the mattress, feeling the familiar give of the sheets beneath your knees as you settled in beside him. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that brushed against your skin.

Spencer reached for you, his touch gentle and insistent as he guided you back into position. His hands were warm against your skin, the chemistry seemed to crackle between you.

Spencer tore open the foil packet, the soft crinkle of the wrapper a prelude to the main event. You could smell the faint scent of latex from the condom, mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne—a spicy, woodsy scent that was undeniably masculine and entirely Spencer.

Spencer moved with a practiced ease, his fingers deft and sure as he prepared himself, rolling the condom down with a kind of confident precision that spoke of experience. The sight of him handling himself with such ease sent a thrill racing through you, your breath catching at the implication. It was a heady rush of desire that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

As he finished, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering intensity burning within them that made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze was almost tangible, a touch that was as intimate as any caress. You could feel the desire radiating off of him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. His tone was full of promise, a dark velvet sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace, holding you captive in its depths.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely a whisper as it slipped from your lips, heavy with need. Your body ached for his touch, every fiber of your being attuned to the promise of pleasure that awaited you.

Spencer leaned forward, his hands finding your hips with a surety that left you breathless. His touch was firm and possessive, a silent promise of the pleasure he intended to deliver. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a delicious contrast to the cool air that still lingered around you.

His lips brushed against your ear, a featherlight touch that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I bet you feel as good as you taste,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. The confession was both intimate and incendiary, stoking the flames of your arousal until you were burning for him.

“Shit,” you whispered back, a high pitched sound that left your lips before you could think better of it. Spencer responded with a quiet, breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, the pressure of his fingers was grounding.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the sensation sending a jolt through your body. The tip of him brushed against your core, a featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your heart race. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to push forward, the pressure building with each inch as he entered you. The feeling was exquisite, a slow, delicious burn that stretched you around him, filling you completely. The friction was intoxicating, a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure that had you gasping for breath.

Spencer let out a low, shuddering moan as he sank into you, his fingers digging into your hips with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. The sound was raw and primal, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through him, mirrored in the sensations that raced through your own body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet combination of gasps and moans that mingled with the rustle of the sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix making you hyper aware of every touch, every sensation.

As he began to move, Spencer set a steady, deliberate pace that left you reeling with sensation. Each thrust was a measured blend of power and precision, a rhythm that built slowly, methodically, until it had you teetering on the edge of control.

“You feel so fucking good,” Spencer breathed, his voice a low, gravelly growl that sent a thrill racing through you. 

“So big,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find words in the midst of the overwhelming sensations that flooded your senses. The feel of him moving inside you, the way he filled you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Spencer’s hands moved with a purpose, tracing the curves of your body as he drove you higher, his touch both grounding and incendiary. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his muscles flexed with each movement, feeling the strength and control he wielded.

His lips found your neck, trailing a line of heated kisses along the sensitive skin that sent shivers down your spine. The feel of his mouth against your skin was electric, a tantalizing mix of heat and teeth that left you gasping for breath, your body arching into his touch.

The sensation of his body moving against yours, the delicious friction as he drove deeper, harder, was a pleasure that threatened to unravel you completely. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy radiating through you.

“Spencer,” you gasped, the word slipping past your lips as a breathless plea, a desperate cry for more.

His response was immediate, his pace quickening as he drove into you, each movement a perfect blend of power and precision that left you on the brink of release. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious friction that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You could feel the strength in his fingers, the way they dug into your flesh with each powerful motion, grounding you even as you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. The heat of his hands against your skin was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, adding another layer of sensation to the already heady mix.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of wet, rhythmic slaps and breathless gasps that only heightened your arousal. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure rippling through you, building in intensity with every movement until you were teetering on the edge of control.

Spencer’s breath was hot against your ear, each exhale a ragged sigh that sent shivers down your spine. “How are you still so tight?” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that resonated through your entire body. The words were a potent mix of praise and desire, pushing you even closer to the brink.

Your own breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle as you fought to hold on to your control. “Spencer,” you moaned, your body aching for release.

His response was a deep, primal growl that vibrated through his chest and into your back, his hips snapping forward with a renewed intensity that left you breathless. His hands guided your movements, pulling you back to meet each thrust with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

The pressure within you built to a fever pitch, a tight coil that wound tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations, the feel of him driving into you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of salt on your lips as you bit down, trying to hold on just a little longer.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice a rough, desperate sound that sent a thrill racing through you. “I’m so close.”

The admission was your undoing. The coil within you snapped, sending a wave of blinding ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you cried out, the sound raw and unrestrained as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Spencer continued to move, driving you through the waves of your release with a steady, relentless rhythm that left you trembling and gasping for breath. The feeling of him moving inside you, filling you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, each thrust sending new ripples of sensation through your already oversensitive body.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, Spencer’s pace grew more erratic, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his fingers dug into your hips with a new urgency.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft, breathless plea as you turned your head to catch his gaze. The look in his eyes was a perfect reflection of the intensity you felt, raw desire and desperate need that sent another wave of heat through you.

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his own release. The sound of his pleasure—a low, guttural groan—sent a shiver of satisfaction through you.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of your mingled breaths, a soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the fading echoes of your shared passion. Spencer’s grip on your hips softened, his touch becoming a gentle caress as he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice a soft, reverent murmur that sent a final shiver of pleasure through you. 

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips as you caught your breath. “So are you, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection and lingering desire as he gently helped you shift to a more comfortable position. The warmth of his body against yours was soothing, a perfect counterpoint to the lingering heat of your shared passion. You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace and contentment settle over you as you allowed yourself to relax in his arms.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting weight of his presence, lulled you into a state of drowsy contentment. You felt safe and secure in his arms, the events of the night playing through your mind in a haze of satisfaction and warmth.

Slowly, the pull of sleep became too strong to resist, and you allowed yourself to drift off, cocooned in the comforting embrace of the man who had brought you such intense pleasure. The last thing you remembered before slipping into the depths of slumber was the gentle press of Spencer's lips against your forehead, a tender kiss that spoke volumes.

—

Morning came all too soon, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke slowly, the memories of the night before still vivid in your mind as you lay in the warmth of Spencer's embrace. For a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling, the sense of belonging that came from being wrapped in his arms.

But reality soon intruded, and you knew that you couldn't stay. With a quiet sigh, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking him. Spencer's face was peaceful in sleep, a small smile playing on his lips that made your heart ache with affection and regret.

You knew he’d be confused when he woke up in your apartment alone. The realization that you had made a mistake by bringing him here weighed heavily on you. You quickly dressed, the rustle of your clothes sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. Every movement felt like a betrayal, a departure from the intimacy you had shared just hours before.

Grabbing a sticky note pad and a pen from your desk, your mind raced as you tried to think of what to write. The pen felt heavy in your hand, the blank surface of the note a stark reminder of the conversation you couldn't have face to face.

Spencer, you wrote, your handwriting shaky and rushed, Thank you for last night. There’s a key under the mat, please lock the door on your way out. Take care.

You placed the note where he would see it, the yellow square stark against the dark wood of your dresser. You stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of him one last time, memorizing the peaceful curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

With a heavy heart, you turned and quietly left the room. You headed for a friend's house, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. You needed to stay busy, to distract yourself until you were sure Spencer had left your apartment. As you knocked on the door, you resolved to cherish the memory of the night you had shared with Spencer, even as you moved forward with your life.

—

It had been a month since Spencer's encounter with you. At first, he was extremely confused and hurt, thinking there was a real spark between the two of you. Upon leaving your apartment that morning, he realized he never got your last name or your phone number. He didn't even know your address properly. Technically, he could figure it out quite easily, but he knew if you wanted him to talk to you again, you would have stayed.

For about two weeks, he thought about you every day and night, replaying the moments you shared and trying to understand what went wrong. Initially, he was sad, then worried something might have happened, and finally, he became livid at the thought that you might have used him. But now, it had been a month, and he had resigned himself to forget you and move on with his life.

Back to regular life, Spencer walked into the bullpen, immediately sensing something unusual. Everyone was not-so-subtly glancing toward Hotch’s office, their expressions twisted with curiosity and surprise.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s a woman in Hotch’s office,” Emily replied, her eyes flicking toward the closed door.

“Okay?” Spencer prompted, waiting for more context.

“She knew my name, man,” Derek added, sounding both impressed and slightly confused.

“Uh oh, did you forget one of your many lovers?” Spencer joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not cool, kid. I’d remember a pretty face like hers,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“How else would she know you?” Emily asked, her curiosity mirroring Spencer’s.

Just then, the door to Hotch’s office opened, and you stepped out, accompanied by Aaron. “Guys, this is Agent Y/N Y/L,” Hotch said, introducing you to the team. “She will be joining us while JJ is on maternity leave.”

Spencer’s heart stopped as he saw you. He felt all the blood drain from his face, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. There you were, the woman who had loved him and then left him without a trace, now standing in front of him in the bullpen.

You seemed calm and composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside Spencer. You gave a polite smile and nodded at the team, your eyes briefly locking with Spencer’s before moving on, not recognizing him immediately, or not caring.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said, your voice steady and professional. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

The rest of the team greeted you warmly, exchanging pleasantries, while Spencer remained rooted to his spot, his mind racing. Finally, your eyes fell on him and really looked.

“Hi, Doctor,” you said calmly, your voice steady and composed.

“Y/N,” he replied, his tone clipped and strained.

“Hold up, do you two know each other?” Derek asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I remember you!” Penelope cut in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “You were at the Doctor Who convention! Madame de Pompadour! You looked beautiful.”

���Thank you!” you responded with a warm smile. “I don’t recall meeting you, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, we didn’t meet, sweetie,” Penelope giggled kindly. “I saw you talking to Reid here.”

“Ah,” you said, a hint of realization dawning in your eyes as you glanced back at Spencer.

The strain between you and Spencer was tangible, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process the fact that you were now standing in front of him, a part of his professional life.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Emily asked, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“We… met at the convention,” Spencer said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“Yes, we did,” you confirmed, keeping your tone neutral. “It was a brief encounter.”

Spencer's jaw tightened at your choice of words, the hurt and confusion from a month ago resurfacing with a vengeance. He knew he had to keep it together, at least for now, but the unresolved feelings were making it difficult.

“Small world, huh?” Derek said with a chuckle, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension.

“Indeed,” you replied, your eyes flicking back to Spencer. “I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”

Spencer nodded stiffly, his mind still racing with questions and emotions. He knew he needed to talk to you, to get some answers, but now wasn’t the time. He would have to wait for a more private moment to confront you about what had happened.

For now, he had to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside his personal turmoil to maintain his professionalism. But as he watched you interact with the rest of the team, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙lover | DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: extreme fluff i fear LOL

summary: in which you and your boyfriend are each other's "lover"

a/n: i made a kind of more angsty dr fic with a pregnancy announcement (HERE) so this is baso a way more fluffier version!! based on taylor's song lover🩷 hope it's not trashhh & also not sure if it's obvious that it all takes place over a period of time

request!!!: danny ric x female reader anouncing shes pregnant maybe idk and theyre so in love idk

fc: various brunette girls from pinterest

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 432,784 others

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tagged: danielricciardo

view all 5,887 comments

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 812,203 others

danielricciardo can i go where you go?

tagged: yourusername

view all 9,012 comments

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yourbff never felt so lonely at the holidays as i do right now

danielricciardo my bad

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user14 dont give them any ideas

user15 ENOUGH!!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 389,998 others

yourusername everyone who sees u wants u

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 4,891 comments

user16 are you highly suspicious y/n

liked by yourusername

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user18 tbh they prob do want him

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yourusername & you have me

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maxverstappen1 staging an intervention for you both to stop being so in love on the tl

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danielricciardo 🤔

user20 MAXIEL

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danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 781,572 others

danielricciardo loved u three summers now, but i want them all ☀️

tagged: yourusername

view all 11,682 comments

user22 🥹🥹🥹🥹

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liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, and 881,724 others

yourusername all's well that ends well to end up with you 🥹💍💍💍

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 18,023 comments

yourbff my babies🥹🥹🥹

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user29 my heart's been borrowed and urs has been blue 💙

user30 my favs finally engaged omgg😭😭

charles_leclerc congratulations 🥂

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo

lewishamilton congratulations guys ❤️

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 987,802 others

danielricciardo at every table i'll save you a seat

tagged: yourusername

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user31 loverrrr🥺

yourusername i love you omg omg omg

danielricciardo i love you forever and ever

user32 god this is sick & twisted !!!

yourbff some of us are single. jk congratulations u beautiful people im so blessed to have been apart of ur day 🥹

yourusername love u more than words

maxverstappen1 congratulations 💍

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername

landonorris congratulations guys thanks for inviting me 🍾

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername

pierregasly such a beautiful couple, congratulations again

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername

user33 ugh their love is just so beautiful

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 789,973 others

yourusername couldn't really hide it any longer could we🤰

tagged: danielricciardo

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user34 NO WAYYY

danielricciardo i am so so blessed and lucky

yourusername no mee

user35 OMGGG congrats to everyone's fav f1 couple

yourbff congratulations u gorgeous girl cant wait to meet baby!! 👶

yourusername you & me both 🥹

landonorris can i babysit

danielricciardo probably not safe

yourusername how is a baby going to babysit

landonorris age shamers. im 24!!

yourusername then act like it maybe 🥰

maxverstappen1 so happy for you both!

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo

danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, and 912,673 others

danielricciardo could we always be this close? our life since baby was born. sorry for being so silent 🥰

view all 17,921 comments

user36 omg never apologise for that congratulations to you both

yourbff congratulations again to the most beautiful family in the world

danielricciardo we love you!

user37 omg look at them😭😭

user38 we've come so far

maxverstappen1 you guys really won at life

danielricciardo 😘 means a lot coming from you

user39 my maxiel heart

yourusername my lover ❤️

danielricciardo forever & ever ❤️

THE END 🤍

[poisonlove]

Do you think you can do Jenna x fem!reader where reader as just moved into the neighbourhood and Jenna’s family and readers family are really good friends and every time reader goes over Jenna’s family’s house Jenna would always make an excuse to touch reader or be next to her then it ends with some dirty amazing pussy wetting smut please 🙏

(Maybe Jenna’s younger sister aliyah ships Jenna and reader 🤭)

I tried to make it as realistic as possible, and it took me a while… but I hope you like it and that it was worth the wait.

Is Emily here? | j.o

Content Warning: Explicit Scenes, +18

I step out of the car, sighing tiredly after the long journey. The move from our beloved Italy to California, in Indio, has been a rollercoaster of emotions and the challenges of relocation. My only aspiration right now is to collapse onto the bed and close my eyes, erasing the fatigue accumulated during the trip.

"Mum! I'm bored!" exclaims my little sister, closing the car door.

I roll my eyes at her comment.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go play?" my mother says, sighing tiredly, holding a cardboard box labeled FRAGILE.

Emily, my adorable sister, smiles widely, showing the gap where her recently lost tooth used to be.

"Really?" Emily says, giggling softly, looking around with curiosity.

My eyes watch in confusion as my sister walks towards a girl playing in the driveway next to ours. The two girls exchange greetings and start playing.

"Wow... she makes friends quickly," I mutter absentmindedly, smiling to myself.

I grab a box from the trunk, and as I close it, my attention is drawn to the sound of a car parking near our driveway. A girl steps out of the car, adjusting her sunglasses and shaking her head to fix her hair.

The girl exudes an irresistibly beautiful aura. Her long dark hair gracefully falls over her shoulders, and the sunglasses accentuate her magnetic gaze. With confident steps and an intriguing smile, she approaches with an elegance that captures everyone's attention.

My jaw literally drops.

The girl walks, lowering her sunglasses, winking at me.

"Y/N," my mother calls from inside the house, wanting to get my attention. "Coming!" I shout in response, tearing my gaze away from the goddess.

"Can you call your sister?" my mother asks later as we unpack plates and glasses from the cardboard box. "She needs to help us," she mutters faintly, wiping a strand of hair from her forehead.

"She's six years old... what does she have to do?" I say rhetorically, putting the box on the floor. "Dispose of the boxes... I don't know, just call her," she says, rolling her eyes.

I go outside again and walk towards the driveway next to ours, immediately noticing Emily's absence. I furrow my brows and approach the door.

I raise my hand and knock on the wood.

"Jenna, go answer," someone inside shouts, a male voice. "Yes, Dad," the girl replies. I smile timidly, hearing footsteps approaching, and at the same time, a strange nervousness pervades me.

The door opens, and the girl I saw earlier looks at me with a charming smile on her lips. My eyes travel from top to bottom of her figure, noting her toned legs accentuated by shorts and the top revealing her midriff.

"Hi, how can I help you?" she asks timidly, leaning against the door. Although her question sounds innocent, her eyes look at me with fire.

"Is Emily here?" I ask timidly. "I saw her playing with a girl here," I say, smiling nervously, scared at the thought that my sister might not be here.

"Oh, yeah, she was playing with my little sister," she says, smiling broadly.

A dazzling smile highlighted by dimples.

"Aliyah," Jenna turns inside her house, shouting her sister's name. Small steps approach, and I smile seeing my sister in the company of Aliyah. The girls were playing with dolls.

"Emily," I say timidly. "We need to go," I say, glancing at Jenna. "No, y/n/n," the little brunette says with an adorable pout. "Can't she stay for 10 more minutes?" Aliyah innocently asks. "No, honey... maybe another time," I say, feeling guilty for ruining their afternoon play.

"You can come here tonight!" Aliyah suggests with a dazzling smile, and I blink in surprise.

At that moment, a woman approaches us.

"Actually, it wouldn't be a bad idea," the lady says. "You can ask your parents to come to dinner at our place, call it a welcome dinner," she suggests with a bright smile.

"Oh... I'll tell my mother, thank you, Mrs...," I start hesitating, not knowing what to call her. "Natalie," the lady says with a small smile.

"Well, thank you, Natalie," I smile cordially to everyone and reach out to take my sister's hand, intertwining our fingers. "Goodbye," my sister says innocently, waving to Jenna.

Jenna reciprocates with a smile on her lips.

(...)

"Everything is delicious," I exclaim with a small smile.

It's 9:00 PM, and we're at our neighbors' house: the Ortega family. Initially, my mother didn't take the invitation well, but after various pleas from Emily, we showed up at their doorstep.

"All right, dear..." Natalie says, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Why don't you and Jen go upstairs to get to know each other better?" she suggests with a smile.

I smile timidly, feeling a strange nervousness in my body, and direct my attention to Jenna, who smiles while wiping her mouth with a napkin. Throughout the evening, little Ortega looked at me with curiosity and desire, brushing her foot against mine several times.

Jenna gets up from the chair and gives me a mischievous smile before going up the stairs. "Thank you for the delicious dinner," I say, smiling with embarrassment before following the brunette upstairs.

With my heart pounding, I enter the room through the partially open door. My eyes curiously scan the surrounding environment, smiling at the sight of photos and some stuffed animals on the furniture.

The door behind me closes.

I turn towards Jenna and see her walking towards me with curious sparkling eyes. Her hands rest around my neck, and she looks at me with her lower lip trapped between her teeth. "I think it's obvious that I'm interested," she says absentmindedly, stroking my neck with the tips of her fingers.

I swallow nervously.

"Mmmh," I mumble in response, and Jenna genuinely smiles. "I'll take that as a yes," the brunette leans in more but does it slowly in case I don't want her to kiss me. Not seeing any sign of refusal in my eyes, she joins our lips in a slow and passionate kiss.

My mind clouds, my protest dying in my throat, and I reciprocate this kiss.

Jenna timidly bites my lower lip, making me shiver with the intensity of the kiss. "Wait," I assert after separating our lips with a loud smack. "Doesn't it seem strange to you? We just met today," I say curiously, breathing irregularly, trying to regulate my breathing.

Jenna looks at me through her long black lashes, dilated pupils.

"Don't think about it," Jenna whispers faintly, running her hand along my jaw. "Just enjoy the moment," she murmurs in a low voice, leaning towards my neck.

I sigh loudly, feeling her open-mouthed kisses on my neck, making me shiver with pleasure. "Let go" she murmurs against my skin, timidly biting the pulse on my neck, making me moan.

I knew the situation was very strange... but while part of me wanted to run away because I didn't even know Jenna's age... the other part of me  desperately wanted to take her clothes off.

My fingertips trail along the sinuous curve of Jenna's body, stopping with a gentle caress in the valley of her ass. Her lips, now pulled into a victorious smile, press against my neck with a sweetness full of desire.

Jenna pulls back, our noses millimeters apart. I could hear her ragged breathing hit my lips. My eyes gazed determinedly at her mouth, feeling excited at how perfect and soft her lips seemed to me, delicious to the touch. I leaned in further and removed this annoying distance, kissing her forcefully, almost making our teeth clash.

Jenna's hands end up under my shirt, her fingertips trying to reach inside my sweatpants.

I smile weakly into the kiss and tilt my head more, flicking my tongue over her bottom lip. Jenna shyly parted her lips and put my tongue inside her mouth, sighing immediately upon feeling hers. The brunette squeezes my hips tightly, melting into the passionate kiss.

The sensation almost makes my legs wobble, and my grip on her ass loosens momentarily. One hand slides to her hip, while the other gently rests on her cheek, breaking the passionate kiss.

we look at each other with agitated breathing, pupils showing our excitement.

"Undress" the brunette murmurs with agitated breathing.

My eyes watched mischievously as Jenna pulled her shirt over her head, ruffling her hair during the sensual gesture. I lick my lips noticing how Jenna's pants fall to the floor, kicked off and left there because they were in the way.

I took off my gray sweatshirt and took off my sweatpants, remaining in my underwear.

Jenna analyzes me from head to toe, biting her lower lip maliciously. The brunette advances and joins our lips again in a fiery kiss, making me sigh again.

Jenna guides me to her bed and I sigh as I feel the softness of the mattress under my back.

Jenna's lips move away from my mouth, focusing on my neck. The way she kissed my neck literally made me feel like I was in heaven, I couldn't believe she could make me wet for so little. "You're beautiful" she murmurs as she leaves a trail of kisses from my neck to the valley of my breasts.

Jenna bites her lower lip and takes off her bra, leaving me completely idiotic in front of the perfection of her breasts.

A blazing fire presents itself to my chest, moving down and giving itself to the bundle of nerves between my legs. I released a grunt and quickly changed positions,  placing my arms on either side of her head.

“Someone is finally letting go,” she murmurs with amusement and I rolled my eyes at her comment. I leaned over and simply wrapped my lips around her nipple, immediately sighing at how soft it was.

Jenna sighs loudly.

I knew we didn't have much time and at any moment someone would come up to call me... but despite this I was excited by the idea of  risking being caught in the act.

My hand deftly travels down her body, placing my fingers inside her panties,  sighing at how wet she was. “You're soaked,” I say smugly and Jenna smiles genuinely, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement.

"I can...?" I start shyly, brushing her clit with my thumb,  playing with my fingers around her entrance.

“Misery, fuck me,” Jenna murmurs in exasperation, looking at me with heavy breathing.

I smiled and put two fingers inside her, making her moan in surprise. My wetness grows as I feel how tight and welcoming her walls are around my fingers. I start to move in and out of her, trying to get used to the pleasant sensation.

Jenna hooks her arms around my neck, opening her legs wider.

“Faster,” she murmurs breathlessly, biting her lower lip trying to hold back her moans. "As you wish" I say amused. My lips rest against her neck and my hand begins to penetrate her faster and deeper, literally fucking her like a whore.

“My god,” she murmurs weakly, placing her lips around my neck and clamping her teeth against my skin to muffle the moans.

I stroke her clit with my thumb, increasing the grip of her teeth against my skin. “Fuck yes!” she groans under her breath as she rests her head against the pillow, arching her back.

My mouth opens in surprise feeling Jenna's hand inside my panties, looking for space to enter and feel my arousal. “Yes you are so wet” Jenna says as she enters me, making me sigh. I lean into her neck and moan against her skin.

"Let's come together" she moans quickly feeling that I was moving my fingers again, resuming the initial rhythm. I nod against her neck, squeezing my nose, feeling a few strands of Jenna's hair tickling me and continuing to penetrate her.

"Jen" I moan almost crying with pleasure, feeling myself reaching my climax. Jenna increases her speed and whimpers into her neck, moving her arm rapidly.

Jenna's walls tighten around my fingers.

“Shit I’m…” I blather before feeling my abdomen clench and i come. My fingers welcomed Jenna's orgasm and I tried to prolong the wave of pleasure as much as possible.

Jenna relaxed against my neck and I raised my head to look at her. Her eyes sparkled and a beautiful smile was plastered on her lips, various freckles scattered across her face and her hair disheveled on the pillow.

Footsteps are heard on the stairs.

Jenna and I look at each other with concern and immediately get out of bed, looking for the clothes scattered on the floor. When I finished putting on my shoes the bedroom door opened and I smiled nervously seeing my sister looking at us curiously. Jenna stood across the room looking at herself in the mirror.

“Y/n” Emily smiled sweetly at me “we need to go home...” she states pouting slightly.

I get out of bed and walk towards my sister, crouching down to her height "did you have fun?" I ask with a small smile on my lips. Emily nods  several times "you?" she asked innocently and out of the corner of my eye I saw Jenna smile mockingly.

“Yes,” I answer honestly and Emily giggles. Jenna turns and sits on her bed, looking at me curiously.

"So you'll go back to playing Aliyah" I say and Emily smiles genuinely, eyes sparkling with happiness "really?" she says squeezing my arm. “Yes.. obviously if Jen agrees” I say with a sheepish smile and the brunette rolls her eyes at the question.

“Obviously Emily” Jenna gets up and walks towards my sister, crouching down next to me. “You will always be welcome here,” she murmurs with a bright smile. "You will play with my sister in the garden or in the living room" says the brunette sweetly.

One of her hands rests in my sister's hair "and I will play with your sister in my room" the brunette says innocently, making me blush at the clear sexual message.

Emily smiled and I shiver feeling Jenna's gaze on me, analyzing me like a predator.

[imaginespazzi]

I have a head canon where Paige has a realization during the overtime video with Jaden Owens that she wants to be with azzi forever and she’s ready for more commitment. Right when the video cuts off Jaden says “it’s like your sharing your life with your best friend”

Can you write a one shot where Paige has this realization after she says that and then she talks to Azzi about it? I’m obsessed with the way you write pazzi!

This is maybe shorter than you wanted and written in about the span of an hour (so unedited) but I kinda fell in love with this, so hopefully it's at least a little bit like you'd hoped for:

“It’s like you're sharing your life with your best friend”

It's been almost half a day since the podcast had filmed and Jaden's words are still echoing through Paige's head, as she lies on her hotel room bed, staring at the bright lights in the ceiling. That nagging voice in her head, exasperatedly telling her you already do share a life with your best friend, sounds a lot like Caroline, Paige thinks. It's not wrong. In between sharing closets and friends, and hopes and dreams, and spending every second they can together, the lines have merged so much that Paige's life feels a lot like PaigeAndAzzi's life.

All her life, Paige has been just a little bit scared of committing to anything except the ball in her hands and the court underneath her feet. She'd made as much clear in the podcast today too when the topic of marriage had come up. In the moment, she'd stuck to her default, that she needed more time, the same line she's been repeating to Azzi for god knows how long. Then Jaden had said those ten words, like it was the most simple thing in the world, and it had felt like Paige's whole way of thinking had come crushing down.

“It’s like you're sharing your life with your best friend”

And it should scare Paige, the realization that she already has that, something so deep, so powerful and yet so fragile, but instead she feels an unprecedented surge of calmness, her constantly moving body, suddenly finding a sense of stillness. If there was ever a feeling she could capture in a bottle, she thinks it might be this one, this feeling of knowing, she's found forever.

It takes about three rings for Azzi to pick up the facetime call. She's leaning against her headboard, hair pulled into a bun, eyes glimmering with sleep. Despite being clearly tired, the smile she has for Paige, just for Paige, is dazzling. And maybe that's why Paige isn't scared. Because if that's the smile she gets for the rest of her life, really it's all she could ever want.

"I thought you'd be out and about in town," Azzi says with a knowing grin.

"Nah," Paige shakes her head, "that's not the life for me anymore."

Azzi raises a questioning eyebrow at the phrasing, head falling back against her pink pillow, "is that so? No more party P?"

"Think I'm ready to settle down. Two kids, a suburban house with a big yard, all of that stuff you know?" and even if she says it with a joking smile, Paige knows that, that's the truth. Maybe not right now right now, but that's the future she wants and she wants it with Azzi.

"No pets?" Azzi asks, playing along as she squints at Paige through the phone.

"Well, I thought Stewie was a given," Paige says slowly and even through the scratchy connection, she hears Azzi's voice hitch at the meaning behind her words.

"Stewie-," Azzi bites her lip nervously, "you see all of that with Stewie?"

"Duh," Paige rolls her eyes dramatically but her heart is beating rapidly, "I can't imagine a future without Stewie. There's no house or two kids without her. Do you think-," it's the blonde's turn to chew at her lips as she stares intently as the brunette on her phone screen, "do you think Stewie would want that too? A life with me? Forever?"

It's been a long time coming, and Azzi has been ever so patient, maybe more patient than Paige had deserved. Maybe, maybe it deserves better than a long-distance facetime call and a conversation disguised using Azzi's dog's name but something about this moment feels right. And Paige wishes Azzi was here next to her, so she could kiss her feelings into the younger girl's skin, mark her with the words you're my forever.

Something wet shimmers against Azzi's eyelashes as the softest smile adorns her face, "I think Stewie would want that a lot. I think she's wanted it for a really long time actually. She was just waiting for you."

"I'm sorry I made her wait so long," sincerity is etched into every syllabus as something a little bit like guilt pools in Paige's stomach, guilt at having denied both of them the chance to just be happy.

"You were worth the wait."

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Hi loves! Quick disclaimer, this chapter is a bit longer than I intended, it’s currently just a little over 17k words and I know a lot of people would love that lol🥰

But I feel compelled to let you know that it’s a long one and to remind you to take breaks in between, drink water and eat something because as a reader myself, I get lost in reading stories that I forget to eat and I end up getting yelled at😭

So get a snack and enjoy besties!!😘😘😘

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

After the successful hunt and seeing Dean hook up with her favorite actress, Y/N made it her duty not to sulk over this, refusing to let a guy get to her, even if it was Dean. So the second they entered that dive bar, she started her engine. Sam and Dean were at one end of the bar in a dingy old booth while Y/N sat at the bar, chatting up the bartender.

"What can I get you, beautiful?" The bartender asked, leaning across the bar, eyeing her like a snack. "I think I need something strong," Y/N said suggestively, giving him a smirk, swirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

The bartender chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver up her spine. "Strong, huh? Trying to drown your troubles, I'm guessing?"

“Something like that” She snorted, shaking her head as she tried to swallow that sick feeling down her stomach.

-

Sam and Dean were well into their fourth or fifth beers when they spotted Y/N chatting up a chick at the bar; a very pretty brunette chick. She was buying her drinks, smiling and laughing.

“Did heaven lose an angel?” Y/N joked, flashing the woman a coy smile. The woman laughed, leaning against the bar, resting her hand on Y/N's forearm. "You're not exactly bad-looking yourself, sweetheart," she said back, giving her a wink.

“I didn’t take you for the type to laugh at a cheap pick up line. Here I was expecting a drink tossed in my face” Y/N chuckled, leaning into the woman’s touch. The brunette chuckled, her fingers gently tracing Y/N's arm. "I guess I have a soft spot for pretty (h/c) gals," she said, her eyes darting down to Y/N's lips for a moment before meeting her gaze again.

Y/N bit her lip, extending her hand to shake the woman’s. “Y/N. And you are, sweetie?” She introduced herself. "Jenna," the brunette replied, giving her a dazzling smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N." Jenna’s fingers were still wrapped a bit around Y/N's hand, lightly rubbing the inner part of her wrist with her thumb, sending shivers up her spine.

“The pleasures all mine, beautiful” Y/N shot back with a sly wink, “Can I buy you a drink?” Jenna chuckled, tilting her head to the side, eyeing Y/N with a smile. "A pretty thing like you buying me a drink? You know I can't say no to that" she leaned into Y/N a bit more, her leg brushing against Y/N's.

From across the room, Dean noticed Y/N was sitting at the bar with a woman who was, by his standards, incredibly hot. The sight made his chest a bit tight. It was a feeling he didn't often like to acknowledge or confront whenever it crept up on him.

Seeing her sitting so close to another woman, talking and flirting with her so openly, it was grinding his gears and not in a way he liked...yep, he’s a hypocritical asshole.

Dean's jaw tightened as he watched Jenna lean in and whisper something in Y/N's ear; she'd thrown her head back with a laugh, shaking her head. He felt himself clenching his jaw as he took another mouthful of his beer while Sam sat beside him on his laptop, practically giggling into his beer because of Dean’s growing jealous of seeing y/n and Jenna, as if he didn’t just hook up with her favorite actress.

-

After a few more rounds and a copious amount of flirting from Jenna, Y/N suddenly jumped down off her stool. She then wrapped an arm around Jenna’s waist and pulled her away from the bar. The brunette woman let out a playful gasp, a smile on her face as she intertwined her fingers with Y/N’s. “Where are we going, gorgeous?” she asked, shooting Y/N a sultry smile.

Y/N chuckled, turning her head to give Jenna a wink. "Somewhere more…private" she said, giving Jenna's hip a squeeze. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Sam and Dean sat, and she noticed how Dean looked rather brooding. She felt a little smug satisfaction from that.

____________________________________________

Y/N was pushing Jenna against the closed door of her motel room, their bodies pressed together as they frantically kissed. Y/N’s hands were on Jenna’s hips, fingers sliding under her shirt to brush against her skin, while Jenna’s hands were tangled in Y/N's hair, pulling it loose from the bun she kept it in. All while Y/N ignored the pangs of guilt and the voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Dean.

They stumbled into the room, their lips still connected as they stumbled back towards the bed. Y/N’s hands roamed, pushing Jenna’s shirt up her stomach, pressing kisses to her throat and collarbone. She was trying to drown out the thoughts of a certain Winchester brother in her head, replacing them with the feeling and scent of Jenna.

Jenna’s hands went to the hem of Y/N's shirt, pulling it up and over her head, before they both fell onto the bed. Jenna was now nipping and sucking at her neck, her hands sliding down Y/N's body, making her gasp.

Y/N moaned lightly at the feeling of Jenna’s mouth against her neck, and before she could even think about what she was doing, she suddenly flipped them so she was on top, pinning Jenna’s hands above her head.

-

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sun spilling through the motel room curtain. Her eyes fluttered open. She was met with the sight of Jenna sleeping peacefully beside her, her hair messy from all the fun last night, but she had a peaceful expression on her face. Her head was pressed into Y/N’s naked chest, the hunter’s arm draped protectively around the petite brunette. Y/N smiled as it soon faded when the memory of the previous night finally caught up to her.

The sound of her phone ringing pushed her out of her thoughts. With a groan, she fumbled around her jacket on the floor until her hand wrapped around her cellphone. She answered the phone, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

"Hello?" Y/N said wearily into the phone. She could faintly hear the sounds of Sam and Dean arguing in the background. "Oh good you're awake" Dean grumbled, his voice gravelly and filled with annoyance. "We found a case"

“Dean, it’s-“ She checked the time on the wall clock, “6am!” She lowly exclaimed. “Couldn’t this have waited?” Y/N spat, pulling Jenna into her chest closer. “No it couldn’t have ‘waited’.” Dean snarked, “We got bodies piling in a prison and we’re wasting time waiting for your beauty rest” he huffed, making rude gagging noises.

“Oh for fucks sake- fine. Give me 10 minutes” Y/N cursed, groaned from her pounding hangover. “See ya soon,” Dean grumbled before the call went dead. Y/N dropped her phone next to her on the bed before looking down at Jenna, who was still asleep.

Y/N didn’t want to wake up the woman, but she knew she had to leave. With a soft sigh, she placed soft kisses along Jenna’s shoulder as she began to stir. "Jenna, I have to go,” she whispered, continuing to place gentle kisses along her bare shoulder.

Jenna let out a soft grumble, burying her face further into Y/N’s chest. Y/N chuckled softly, her hand brushing through Jenna’s hair. She would’ve loved to stay in bed with the woman, but duty called.

After a few minutes of convincing and more kisses, Jenna finally peeled her face away from Y/N's chest, groggily blinking her eyes open. She looked so damn adorable with her hair messy, her eyes half-lidded, and her lips in a pout.

“You have to go?” she mumbled out, her voice filled with annoyance. “Yeah, I’m sorry” Y/N apologized, pressing a kiss to her lips before forcefully peeling herself from the bed.

Jenna whined as Y/N untangled herself from her, and the hunter chuckled. She was now sitting up in bed, the comforter pooled around her hips.

-

After a quick (yet steamy) shower together and a change of clothes, Y/N was getting ready to leave. Jenna sat on the motel bed, her back propped up against the headboard, watching Y/N finish buttoning up her overshirt.

“You sure you can’t stay a few more hours?” Jenna joked, giving Y/N a small pout. Her eyes were locked on Y/N's neck, which was littered with various hickeys, mirroring Jenna’s neck.

“Duty calls, sweetie” Y/N chuckled, lacing up her combat boots. A knock at the door startled them, “Come on, Princess. We don’t got all day!” Dean's voice boomed from behind the door, along with Sam’s, “Chill out dude, give the girl a break” this made Y/N roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Hold on a second, asshat!” Y/N called back, placing on her leather jacket before slinging her bag over her shoulder. A small smirk appeared on her face, and she turned to face Jenna, who looked rather disheartened at Y/N leaving. But Jenna swallowed it down and slung her own bag over her shoulder.

Y/N pulled open the motel door, revealing Sam and Dean on the other side. Dean’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the hickeys decorating Y/N’s neck. It took every inch of self-control he had to keep his mouth shut.

Sam, meanwhile, was giving Y/N a proud knowing smile, but he also noticed how pissed off and brooding his older brother was.

Jenna then appeared behind Y/N, giving her a small smile and wrapping her arms around her waist. "I guess this is where we part ways," she said, placing a gentle kiss on Y/N's cheek. Y/N returned the smile, wrapping her arms around Jenna in return, and leaned her back into her chest.

This made Dean's eye twitch, even more, "I really did have a great night, darlin',” Y/N said, placing a hand on Jenna's hip, giving it a squeeze. Jenna looked down at the floor, fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

“Just wish you could’ve, y’know, stayed a bit longer,” she mumbled with a pout. Y/N grinned, pressing a final kiss to her lips. “Oh, trust me I would’ve loved to keep you all to myself a bit longer,” Y/N replied in a hushed tone, her hand going up to caress Jenna's cheek. Their little bubble was interrupted by Dean clearing his throat, an obvious impatient look on his face.

"Can we get a move on? We got a case to solve" he spat out. Sam shot Y/N an apologetic glance, but Y/N just shook her head, her own eye twitching in annoyance as they darkened. “Watch your tone with me, Winchester” She warned harshly, narrowing her eyes at him before turning back to Jenna with a soft smile. “I’ll see you around, hun. And I’ll call you”

Jenna smiled, “Hopefully sooner rather than later” she said, giving Y/N a final squeeze before pulling away. Y/N returned the smile, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek before walking out of the motel room, not even bothering to look at Dean as she headed towards the impala.

“Don’t judge me, charming” She spat with a smug smirk, opening the back door as she and Sam shared a quick high-five. Dean scoffed as he made his way to the driver’s door. “Whatever you say, Princess” he muttered as he got in the car, starting the engine. Sam chuckled from the passenger seat as Y/N got in, a knowing smile on his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, closing the door of the impala with a slam. Dean glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his left eye twitching at the sight of some faint hickeys still visible on her skin.

Needless to say, Y/N definitely enjoyed herself last night. And she was intending on calling Jenna.

____________________________________________

•One Week Later

Little Rock, Arkansas

Arkansas Museum of Anthropology

Sam and Dean Winchester shone their lights in the dimly lit halls of the museum, “This way” Dean whispered to his brother, ushering him down the hall. “I hate this plan, Dean,” Sam whispered back, following behind his brother. “Yeah, I got that the first 10 times I heard it” Dean muttered back sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

The two continued down the hall, purposefully setting off security alarms as they walked down. They made it to a case, picking the lock and opening it. Retrieving some old antique weapons. The unlocking of a door down the hall caught their attention, the two shared an alarmed look before stuffing the items into their bags and rushing down the hall, right into the arms of police officers.

“Freeze!” Two officers yelled at them, pointing their guns and flashlights, they spun around to be met with another pair of officers. “Don’t move!” The other pair ordered. They attempted to make a break for it but they were bombarded by another pair of police officers.

“I said freeze!”

“Hold it right there!”

“Get down on your knees now!”

Both Winchesters did immediately as told, Dean wore a smirk as he got down on his knees with his hands pressed to the back of his head while Sam looked terrified. The cops handcuffed their hands behind their heads as Sam shot his brother a deadly glare. Dean just shrugged in return.

____________________________________________

“Front. To the right” The photographer instructed Sam as he took his mugshot. The younger Winchester looked stoic as he took his picture.

While Dean, “I call this one the Blue Steel” Dean snarked before pursing his lips and furrowing his brows in an exasperated attempt to joke the situation away. “Yeah, that’s great. To the right. Okay. Back to the lineup” The photographer deadpanned.

“Wait. Who looks better? Me or Nick Nolte?” Dean smirked, “Shut up!” The photographer groaned in annoyance.

-

As they were shoved into adjoining interview rooms, Dean began drumming on the table, whistling and even kicking the chair to try and annoy a certain brother sitting in the interrogation room next to his own. Dean smirked as he heard a muffled “Cut it out!” from the room next to his, he did it again and in reply. “Knock it off!” Came the reply.

The door finally opened revealing Victor Henriksen in his formal FBI attire and a familiar face. Dean instantly recognized the man to be Alexander Thompson, Y/N’s ex boyfriend from high school. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darkening as they connected with Thompson’s. “Well, it’s about time. I’ll have a cheeseburger” Dean sassed.

Victor tilted his head at Dean as Alexander shut the door behind him, a grim look etched on the cop-turn-FBI Agent’s face. “Extra onions” He shot at Xander with distaste. “You think you’re funny,” Victor scoffed. Dean pursed his lips, “I think I’m adorable” Dean shot back with sass, flashing Victor a cheeky smile.

“They letting anyone into the FBI now? Last I saw you, you were working a shitty beat” Dean snarked at Alexander, the envy and hatred clear in his tone. Xander clenched his jaw, standing across from Dean, his hands on his hips, while Victor stood beside him, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Last I saw you, I was picking your ass up on that shitty beat” Thompson rebutted with equal sass.

“What are you, here to measure my dick?” Dean snapped, shooting the ex-boyfriend a venomous glare. “I don’t have my ruler on me” Xander replied back, just as venomously, the smug smirk on his face made a fire grow in Dean’s chest.

Victor chuckled in amusement at the two men with clear vendettas against each other, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean.” Victor chimed in, glaring at Dean, who’s eyes were piercing Alexander’s. Dean finally broke his gaze on the agent and turned to Victor. “I’m Special Agent Victor Henricksen. This is my partner, whom you seem to know, Special Agent Alexander Thompson.”

“Henricksen. Not the Milwaukee Agent Hendricksen” Dean said in recognition, the smug look returning to his face. “Live and in person” Victor confirmed, rolling his eyes. Dean chuckled as Victor took out a picture of Dean and Y/N at the bank robbery. “Nice shot” Victor said sarcastically, Dean noticed Alexander gulp when Victor tossed the photo on the table.

Assuming that y/n still had some weight on his heart, Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks. You should see us from the back” Dean stated nonchalantly as he looked at the picture before leaning back in his chair. Xander’s glare darkened when Dean made the comment, wanting nothing more than to smack the smirk off the hunter’s face.

Victor didn’t miss the jealous look on Xander’s face nor did he miss the venomous glare that he sent back at Dean. Victor could sense the built-up hatred the two men had for each other.

“You can hang that up in your cell at Supermax. Right after you tell us where Y/N is” Dean kept the smug look on his face, knowing that he wasn't gonna give up his girl even if it meant torturing it out of him. “Alright, maybe we can just forget the cheeseburgers, huh?” Dean chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover up how cornered you are” Victor shot back as Dean pursed his lips. “Read him the charges” He instructed Alexander. The agent rested his hands on his hips as he began, “We got mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration-” Xander began.

“Skip to the good ones” Victor cut him off. “Armed robbery, kidnapping and, oh, three counts of first degree murder” Xander smirked. “And after Milwaukee, your brother and your girlfriend are now suspects in murder cases themselves.” Victor chimed in, Alexander had to stop himself from flinching when he referred to y/n as Dean’s girlfriend while the elder Winchester smirked.

Trying to mask his clear irritation. “I’d say for you three, ‘screwed to hell’ is a major understatement” Victor snarked, a smug look on his face. “Well, where there’s life, there’s hope, huh?” Dean snarked. “See, that’s what I kept thinking when I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone.” Victor shot back.

Xander clenched his jaw, his face turning a slight shade of red in anger as the elder Winchester chuckled in amusement. He continued his smirk as he leaned forward with his hands clasped together. “You searched for me on your own time?” Dean asked, his voice dripping with sass.

He leaned down on the table, pressing his hands to it. “Your dads taught you well. The way you cover your tracks. And after Milwaukee, the way you-” Victor whistled, “-vanished. Near went nuts trying to find you. But two outta three, I’d say I did great myself” This line from Victor made Dean snort. “Ask him,” Victor pointed to Xander

“He damn near went nuts” Xander deadpanned as Dean craned his head back over to him, wearing a cocky grin on his face while Dean glared at him. “And after all that, you get tripped up on a motion detector” Victor said in a low tone. “Pretty rookie move” He snorted. “Gotta say, I was…surprised”

“Yeah, you and me both” Dean’s grin widened as he leaned back in his seat. Xander clenched his jaw, his hands clenching in a fist as he tried to hold himself back from punching the smirk off his face. “We got into a tight spot,” Dean added.

“Henricksen. Can you give me a minute with him?” Alexander chimed in. Victor turned to the agent, an amused look on his face. “Sure” He said before eyeing Dean and walking out of the room. Dean’s cocky smile dropped slightly when he realized he was alone with Xander.

“I'm gonna keep it real with you, Dean” Alexander snapped, leaning down to face Dean. His hands pressed into the table. “I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to do my job. Now, where the fuck is Y/N?!” He demanded, his voice filled with authority.

Dean raised his eyebrow, his lips curling up in a cocky smirk once again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dean replied in a sarcastic tone. Alexander’s jaw clenched tightly, his lips twisted into a grimace as he tried to control his anger.

“Look, smart ass,” Xander began, his jaw grinding in frustration. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward so that they were face to face. “She was a good person. And this crap you’ve gotten her and Sam into, it’s on you!” Xander growled in disgust, shoving the elder Winchester back forcefully, causing him to stumble back into his chair with an annoyed glare etched on his features.

Dean’s hands clenched into fists tightly in his cuffs. His glare darkened significantly. “Don’t you dare pin this on me. Y/N is her own grown woman, she can make her own decisions” He warned, his voice low and menacing. His muscles tensed as the anger boiled inside him, he wanted nothing to smack the agent across the face.

“Where.Is.She?” Xander asked again. Dean gritted his teeth, he felt his irritation growing by the second. “Somewhere where you won’t touch her. I swear to god, if you lay one finger on her, I will kill you” Dean threatened, the anger was now clear in his voice.

Xander scoffed, shaking his head at the fact that Dean threatened to kill an officer of the law, “After all these years, you’re still pining after her like a lovesick puppy” The agent chuckled dryly. The fire inside Dean's chest burned with every word that came out of Xander's mouth.

His jaw ached from how tightly he clenched his teeth and his knuckles turned white from how hard he clenched his hands into fists. “You have no idea what you’re talking about” He snarled back through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I think I do,” Xander shot back, a smug look plastered on his face which only made the anger inside of Dean grow more as he picked up the picture of them on the table. “You have fun in Supermax, dick. And when we do find Y/N, I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t see your sorry ass again” Xander spat, fixing his suit and with that, he left the interrogation room.

Dean slammed his fists against the table, cursing as the door slammed shut. The anger inside him was at its boiling point. He growled lowly, the veins on his forehead popping and a muscle in his jaw twitching.

____________________________________________

Green River County Detention Center

The boys’ lawyer explained to them that they would be staying in the county jail for a week until their sentencing. Which meant they had a week to catch this spirit and bust out.

The prison bus pulled up to the county jail, unloading all the prisoners, the Winchesters included. “Alright, let’s go! Watch your step!” The prison guard ordered the men as they piled off in a single file line.

The prisoners jeered at the boys as they walked, still cuffed and detained. “You’re mine baby!” A prisoner threw a lustful kiss in Sam’s direction, making the Hunter grimace in disgust, wishing he had Jo by his side right at this moment. “Don’t worry, Sam. I promise I won’t trade you for smokes” Dean said to him from in front.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean snickered.

-

They finally got suited up in the classic Orange jumpsuits, now hauling their stuff, which consisted of a pillow, an extra pair of clothes and toilet paper. Dean entered his cell he shared with a fellow prisoner, “I call top bunk” Dean smiled but the man scoffed, taking the top bunk. “Okay” He muttered, turning to see his brother Sam come face to face with a man who was actually larger than him.

Sam’s face dropped as the guards locked their door simultaneously, turning to face his brother who was behind held across the hall from him.

-

Now in a line outside to get strip searched, Sam stood behind his brother. “My roommate doesn’t say much, has yours?” Dean asked Sam in a low tone. “He just keeps staring at me, in a way that makes me…really uneasy” Sam admitted, making Dean smirk and chuckle. “It sounds like you’re making new friends,” Dean snickered.

“Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we’ve ever done. And that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy” Sam whispered in a harsh tone. “Calm down, it’s all part of the plan” Dean whispered back. “Oh, really? So Henricksen and fucking Alex showing up to as part of the plan?” Sam shot back.

Dean could feel the pressure build up in his chest at the mention of Alexander, “Yeah, well they move a little faster than I thought” Dean covered up his distaste with humor. “I mean, can you believe it? That jock is FBI now” Dean scoffed, shaking his head.

“A lot can change in six years, I guess” Sam retorted as the man behind him grabbed his arm. Sam instantly tensed, looking over his shoulder towards the man who was leering creepily at him. The man just smirked and winked at him, causing Sam to shiver and look away again quickly.

Dean snickered before changing the subject, “Look, all we gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down and then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos” Dean said as if it were simple, “That’s not funny” Sam grumbled, looking at the back of his brothers head disapprovingly. “Dean, what about this escape plan? It-?” Sam stammered.

“It's a 100-percent sure thing. I wouldn’t have gone in if it wasn’t.” Dean assured him. “I mean, come on man. This place has all the signs of a haunting” He whispered back. “And innocent people are dead. Four so far” He added. “Yeah, innocent” Sam scoffed ironically, rolling his eyes. Dean picked up on his tone, looking back at his brother.

“What? You from Texas all of the sudden? Just because these people are in jail, doesn’t mean they deserve to die. If we don’t stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us” Dean said firmly, turning to face the front again. “Look, Dean. Just be straight with me, alright? You’re doing this for Deacon?” Sam asked him for reassurance.

“Damn right” Dean assured him. “Well, you barely even know the guy,” Sam pointed out. “We know he was in a corps with dad. We know he saved Dads life. We know we owe him” Dean insisted. “Yeah, but don’t you think he’s asking a little much?” Sam stated. “It doesn’t matter” Dean shot back, keeping his eyes to the front where men were getting scanned with metal detectors.

“We may not be saints, but we’re loyal and we pay out debts. Now, that means something to me, it means something to y/n and it ought to you too” Dean said in a firm tone, an underlying principle in his tone. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this either” He admitted, his heart on his chest aching at the fact that he has to spend a week away from the woman he loves.

“But Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do”

____________________________________________

Sam Winchester’s face contorted in disgust as he sniffed the unappetizing looking noodles on his fork, now in the cafeteria with Dean scruffing down his own food next to him. “You know, this chicken isn’t half bad” Dean commented, clapping his tongue. “Great. Finish mine” Sam groaned, plopping his fork down on his tray before shoving it aside.

Dean raised his brows before shrugging and taking up the chicken from Sam’s tray with his fork, “Alright, so let’s go back over this, Dean. Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?” Sam began. “Yeah. Psycho-Killer extraordinaire. Satanism. Ritual murder. Died in jail” Dean listed off, stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth. “Are you sure it’s him?” Sam asked.

“Pretty sure. Y/N looked into his file, seemed legit” Dean nodded, chewing on the chicken. “Dean, considering our circumstances, I’m gonna need a little bit better than pretty sure or seemed legit” Sam exaggerated. “Really pretty sure” Dean rolled his eyes. Sam sighed deeply as Dean continued.

“Moody died of a heart attack, which is exactly what all the victims in here are dying of. Okay? He died in the old cell block which they closed right after he croaked 30 years ago. They just opened that back up, that’s when the killings started” Dean explained, filling his mouth with noodles. “So, you think his spirit was released somehow?” Sam asked.

“Mm-hm.” Dean shrugged. “What if he was already cremated?” Sam suggested. “Y/N assumed there’s something in the old block that belongs to him that’s keeping him around. She’s got a point” Dean replied. “Now, whatever it is, we gotta find it, and you know the rest” He finished. “I’m done,” Dean muttered, placing his fork down before dusting his hands off.

Sam sighed, nodding as Dean got up before getting up to follow behind his brother. As Sam was walking, he accidentally bumped into another inmate, grunting harshly as the man stumbled back a bit. The older inmate turned to Sam with wide wild eyes, “Sorry, I-” Sam instantly went to apologize, his heart rate increasing.

“Watch where you’re going” The inmate growled. “Yeah, sure. I just-” Sam nodded frantically, but Dean instantly went into protective mode. “He said he was sorry” The elder Winchester stepped in, his tone standoffish as he got in the face of the other inmate. “Dean-” Sam tried to warn his older hotheaded brother.

“You talking to me?” The inmate scoffed, Dean didn’t answer, instead, he kept a brooding look on his face. “Are you talking to me?!” The inmate repeated. Dean rolled his eyes before muttering. “Great, another guy who’s seen Taxi Driver one too many times” he snorted, “Yeah, I’m talking to you” Dean spat.

“Trust me. Let it go” He said firmly, the prisoner clenched his jaw before walking away. “Dean, come on,” Sam pleaded. “See, that’s how you gotta talk to these guys. Instant respect” Dean grinned and winked at his brother. Sam’s eyes stayed trapped on the prisoner who made his way over to another yet large inmate.

The two whispered indistinctly to each other, “You were saying” Sam whispered to Dean with wide eyes as the two approached Dean. “Great” He groaned before the prisoner swung at him, knocking him straight in his jaw. “We can end this right now. No harm, no foul” Dean growled as he snatched the inmate by his hair. The inmate didn’t let up so Dean retaliated.

Sending him face first into the wall as he held his hands behind his back, the inmate then stepped on Dean’s foot harshly, making the Hunter hiss in pain. Dean retaliated with a kick straight to his groin, making him double over in agony. The prisoner groaned in pain as Dean sent a kick right to his face, causing him to fall on his back, clutching his face.

“That’s enough!!” A guard bellowed, breaking up the fight. He approached Dean with a stern expression, “On your feet, Lucas!” The guard barked at the prisoner who was previously attacking Dean. “Yes, sir, boss” Lucas grunted before pushing himself up from the ground, clutching his bleeding mouth.

The guard kept his gaze on Dean before retracting his baton at his waist, he approached Dean, pressing the baton under his chin. “What’s your name?” He gritted his teeth at Dean. “Winchester” Dean glared at the man, “Well, Winchester, not a good start” He snapped before retracting the baton from Dean’s chin.

“Solitary. You too, Lucas!” The guard ordered, pushed his way through the crowd as another guard grabbed Dean, “Yes sir” Lucas said obediently. “Are we having fun yet, huh?” Dean grinned at Sam as he was being escorted. Meanwhile another prisoner, Lucas’s friend, Tiny, pressed his thumb to his neck, dragging it across while looking at Sam.

The younger Winchester internally rolled his eyes and groaned at the threat.

____________________________________________

Now in solitary, Dean leaned his back against the wall, bored out of his mind, “I wish I had a baseball” He said out loud, “What? What’d you say?” Lucas said from the other cell. “I said I wish I had a baseball,” Dean repeated. “You know, like Steve McQueen,” he said through the single open slot. “Yeah? Well I wish I had a bat, so I could bash your fucking head in” Lucas growled.

“Okay. Well, so much for the bonding-in-solitary moment.” Dean muttered, pushing himself back against the wall before dusting his hands off. His mind wandered to y/n, within the past few days being here, Dean had grown a sense of loneliness. Sure, Sam was here but he missed his girl.

Thankfully, he got Deacon to sneak them a few phones, claiming that “Sam missed his girl”, referring to Jo. When in reality, Sam wasn’t the only one missing ‘his girl’. He had hidden it in his boxers so he quietly fished it out from his pants.

Dean switched his phone on and instantly looked in his contact list, clicking on her number and holding the phone to his ear. Soon enough, he heard Y/N’s voice after about three rings. “Hello?” Her sweet voice filtered through the phone. “Y/N,” Dean said instantly after hearing his love’s voice, a smile growing on his face at the sound of her.

“Dean?!” Y/N exclaimed in a low tone, she crushed her cigarette bud in the ashtray before gently peeling back the curtain to the motel room window she was hiding out in. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled as he heard her reaction as she heard his voice. It was a voice he was craving to hear for days.

Call it toxic codependency, but after not hearing her voice for those few days, he thought he was gonna go insane.

He stayed quiet for a moment, taking in her voice before sighing, “God, it’s good to hear your voice” He admitted, resting the back of his head against the wall, “Are you okay, sweetie? How are you holding up?” Y/N asked him gently, she could hear the tension in his voice. This skyrocketed her concern.

“I’m holding up fine. This place is shitty” Dean assured her while clenching his jaw, “But don’t worry about me” He added instantly, “I’m more worried about you” He admitted while closing his eyes, imagining the look on her face right now.

“Charming, you’re the one in prison and you’re worried about me?” Y/N chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “I hate this plan” She muttered, running her hands over her face as she sank into her bed. The corner of his mouth curled up a bit, “Of course, I am, princess” He chuckled softly, imagining the pout on her face.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her right now and assure her he was okay. He shifted in his spot, now laying on his back as he spoke to her. “It’s a risk, yeah, but it’s what we do, baby” He replied gently, he understood her worry.

Y/N’s heart fluttered when Dean called her ‘baby’. But she quickly swallowed it back down, reminding herself that it’s just how he talks and it doesn’t mean anything, “How’s Sammy holding up?” She asked him, concerned wavering in her tone.

“He’s alright. A little freaked out, though” Dean admitted, closing his eyes as he exhaled deeply. As per usual, his main concern was his little brother’s well-being. He always was a protective older brother. He clenched his jaw remembering his previous interaction with the other inmates.

“Just a minor scuffle so far,” He added quietly. “Of course you’re getting into fights” Y/N scoffed disapprovingly, shaking her head as she placed her hand on her forehead. “Let me guess. Someone tried to steal Sam’s lunch money?” She mused with a roll of her eyes.

Dean cracked a smirk as he stayed quiet for a moment, a little surprised and proud she immediately guessed right. “Ahh, you know me too well” He chuckled as he rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. “Can’t let some assholes push Sammy around” He replied, closing his eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, he then added, “I miss you…” He confessed, opening his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. He was never one to express his emotions, especially not on the phone, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He missed her so damn much.

Y/N felt her heart practically shift in her chest, she hated the thought of those fellas behind bars, she knew they could handle themselves. But she had been worried sick, “I miss you too” She whispered back, biting her lip slightly as she took a deep breath.

Dean’s heart ached at hearing her words, his features softened as he pressed the phone against his ear, hearing her voice. “Y/N/N, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay” He said gently, attempting to soothe her anxieties. He didn’t like being a source of worry, and he knew she wouldn’t stop worrying about them as long as they’re in here.

“You better be. Because I’ll kick your ass” She mockingly threatened with a weak chuckle, “If you need help with anything on the case, you call me. Don’t hesitate, I’ll always be here for you” Y/N said firmly.

A soft smile tugged at his lips, he would expect nothing less from her. She was protective when it came to the people she cared about, especially him and Sam. “Don’t worry, we’ll call ya if there’s any development” Dean replied with a soft chuckle.

-

Inside his cell, Sam leaned the back of his head against the wall, his eyes closed. As he sat there in silence, the only sound in the room was the sound of the guards patrolling outside the door. He held the phone in his hand, thumb hesitantly hovering over Jo’s contact on the screen.

After a few seconds, Sam caved, pressing on her name. He held the phone to his ear just as it began to ring, mentally preparing himself to hear her voice, it was almost like it would be too much to hear her yet it wouldn’t be enough at the same time. Sam waited for her to answer, his breathing slowed and his heartbeat quickened.

Finally, after what felt like both a long and short time, Sam heard the familiar and oh so sweet sound of Jo’s voice come through the receiver. “Sammy?!” She exclaimed in a low tone, sounding a little surprised. “Hey angel” Sam responded with a low chuckle, looking up on the bunk to make sure his cellmate was asleep.

“How are you? Are you okay?” Jo instantly asked, concern clear in her voice. Despite the low tone and the low volume, Sam could tell she was worried. He smiled at the fact, his heart fluttering at being greeted with her sweet voice.

“I’m fine,” Sam assured her, “Deans in solitary confinement. Got into a fight” He sighed, resting his head against the bricked wall. Jo rolled her eyes at the news that Dean was sent to solitary for getting into a fight, “Of course he is. Idiot” She muttered into the phone, a part of her was annoyed, but a part of her was secretly amused.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head gently. “He’s Dean” He laughed softly, he could never blame his brother for being the way he is, he would never change him. As stubborn, and infuriating, and idiotic as he could be, Sam loves his brother.

“I miss you” Sam confessed, his heart heavy at not seeing Jo for weeks on end. He was feeling it worse now being locked up. Jo’s heart fluttered at hearing his words. She missed him just as much. “I miss you too. I hate not seeing you” She whispered into the phone, she wanted to see him, hell, she wanted to at least give him a hug to reassure him.

“We’ll be outta here soon enough” Sam said gently, mentally reassuring himself at the same time. It’s so hard sometimes, being apart from the people you love. As they were both caught up in their conversation, Sam’s cellmate let out a loud snore, jolting Sam’s attention for a moment.

Well into their conversation, Jo let out a soft breath, “Hey, Sammy? Just…” She trailed off, she didn’t know what to say, “Just be careful, okay? Please” She said quietly, she would be devastated if something happened to either Sam or Dean while in prison.

Sam’s heart ached at hearing her words, he felt so guilty at how worried she sounded. “I will, I promise” Sam assured her, his features softened at hearing the quiet worry in her voice. No matter what happens, he promised himself he’d always come back to her.

-

Now back to Dean, he laid down on the dusty uncomfortable ground as he continued to talk to his love, “Everything’s fine. I’m fine, Sam’s fine” He assured her for the millionth time. Just the sound of her voice alone was enough to make him feel better, he needed to hear her voice to keep himself sane in this place.

“Yeah, sure you are” Y/N responded with a scoff, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. Despite her worries, she felt peace hearing his voice, even in the middle of this shitty situation, just hearing his voice was everything.

Dean chuckled deeply, swallowing harshly as the air in the cell grew colder and the lights began flickering. “Oh fuck” He muttered upon seeing his own breath. Y/N’s brows furrowed when she heard his muttered curse. “Dean? What’s going on?” She asked in a serious tone, sitting up in her bed at hearing the change in his tone.

Dean slowly pushed himself up in a sitting position, his eyes shifting around the now chilly and dim cell. “It’s nothing sweetheart-” Just as he was about to dismiss her worries, a rattling sound cut him off, his gaze darted to the cell door. “Fuck, I’m gonna need to call you back” Dean said urgently.

Before Y/N had time to say anything, Dean quickly ended the call. The cold air seemed to grow even cooler as the rattling became louder and more urgent. Something was coming.

“Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still” Dean said through the louvers on the door to his next door cellmate. Lucas looked through the louvers to see nothing, but he felt the air growing colder. His heart nearly stopped when a pair of eyes appeared through the louvers, staring back at him.

Lucas’ body became rigid, beads of sweat already starting to appear on his temple as the chill spread through the room, his breathing hitched, “What the hell is that” He choked out. His eyes were wide and glossy as he stared into the terrifying pair of eyes.

Dean could hear Lucas screaming from his own cell, his heart pounding out of his chest, his eyes wide as the inmate shouted, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” Through his ears.

____________________________________________

Back in the station, Victor Henricksen and Alexander Thompson were working the case of the Winchesters and L/N’s together. “Hey Vic?” Alexander drew his superior’s attention to him. Victor snapped his attention to Alex with a questioning look, he arched a brow at him. “Yeah?” He asked him with a raised brow.

“I’ve been going through the Winchester and L/N charges, and I gotta say…there are some weird inconsistencies” Alexander sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair as he took a seat across from Victor.

Victor rolled his eyes as he listened to Alex. He leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Welcome to my world” Victor scoffed. “I talked to a cop in Baltimore who swears up and down that Sam, Dean and Y/N saved her and helped her catch a killer. And there’s a witness to the bank robbery in Milwaukee, she swears they saved her life” Alexander listed off.

Victor pursed his lips as he listened to him. “Saved her from what?” He let out an annoyed sigh. “She- she was a little unclear” Alexander sighed, leaned back into his chair. “That’s because she’s nuts,” Victor insisted but Alex wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, I was in Milwaukee, I spoke to her, I spoke to all the witnesses.” Victor began. “And?” Alex questioned. “And, all I know is that where they go, people die. It’s that simple” Victor said firmly. Alexander huffed out a sigh. “That simple?” He repeated, his voice filled with skepticism. “No, it can’t be that simple” He argued.

“It’s never that simple. They’re good people” He insisted. “At least- y/n was..” Alex’s voice died in his throat. Victor scoffed at the roomie agent’s stubbornness, he rolled his eyes before sighing softly. After staring at him for a beat, he leaned closer to the table towards Alex. “Look kid, I get it, you had a past with the girl, she’s the one that got away” Victor said the last part a bit sarcastically.

Alex crossed his arms over his chest, furrowing his brows. “But you’ve been here, what? A year? I’ve been on this racket for years, they’re not the people you knew.” Victor said firmly, pressing his hand into the table. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of Y/N, he hated how right Victor was about her.

It was no secret he had feelings for her still. But he chose to remain stubborn and ignore the feeling he felt in his chest when he thought about her.

After a few moments, he scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever” He muttered. “You let your feelings for her cloud your judgment and it’s going to kick you in the ass one day” Victor warned him, looking stern and serious, trying to knock some sense into his agent.

“They just don’t seem cut-and-dry guilty to me, Vic” Alex said, running his hand through his hair. “I think, there’s more to this”. Victor’s face hardened a bit as he listened to him. He sighed deeply and let go of the table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “And I think you’re letting your past with Y/N affect the way you’re viewing this” He replied back to him.

Alex remained quiet, a mixture of anger, denial, and frustration building up in his chest. But he knew there was no point in arguing with his superior, once he made up his mind about someone or something, there was no stopping him.

Victor gave him a weary stare, he could tell the agent was pissed off but didn’t care much for it. He sighed and dropped the subject before looking down at his watch and checking the time.

After a few more minutes of silence and Alex not responding back, Victor let out a sigh. “You’ve been working all day, kid. Why don’t you go get some rest and come back tomorrow” He said with a softer tone this time, trying to ease the tension that was in the room.

Alex looked up at him in surprise, his angry expression fell for a moment. He took a breath and let it out shakily, he was tired, exhausted really but he didn’t want to admit it. He was the new guy, and he wanted to prove that he could handle this job. But he had to listen to his superior.

Alex stood up from his chair and nodded, “Yes sir” He responded in a mumbled tone before turning around to head out of the office.

____________________________________________

It was the next day, Sam was mopping up the bathroom with another fellow inmate, Randall. “How you doing?” Sam attempted to make casual conversation. “I’m 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How do you think I’m doing?” Randall responded sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Sam in return.

“Alright” Sam muttered, dipping his mop in the bucket. “Bad icebreaker” He sighed as he took the mop out and wiped the floor. “I’m Sam” He introduced himself. “Randall” Randall responded. “Nice to meet y-” Sam said politely before the familiar name dawned on him. “Randall? Hey, weren’t you there the night that guard died?” Sam asked, referring to the last death of a prison guard.

“Yeah” Randall confirmed, “Well, what happened?” Sam asked curiously. “They say the stress of the job got to him” Randall shrugged. “Yeah? What do you say?” Sam smirked, Randall’s head snapped over to the hunter as he cocked his brow. “Why are you inside, kid?” Randall questioned, continuing to mop.

Sam sighed deeply as he returned to mopping, “Cause I got an idiot for a brother” Sam muttered, “That’ll do it” Randall mused, “Yeah” Sam sighed. “Well, this place ain’t so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the fucking Hilton” Randall assured him. Sam’s ears perked up at this. “You spent time in the old block?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer” Randall responded casually, “Didn’t they have Mark Moody over there for a while?” Sam asked, “He was there,” Randall confirmed, turning to face Sam. “You know, I was there too, the night that lunatic bought it” Randall gossiped. “Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?” Sam carried on the conversation.

“Sure, his heart stopped right after the guards stopped using his head for batting practice” Randall snorted, this made Sam’s jaw drop. “Next morning, I was in his cell mopping up the blood. What a mess” Randall sighed. “Wait- so he was- he was beaten and nobody reported it?” Sam asked in shock.

“You kept your mouth shut unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, you know?” Randall put it simply. Sam thought for a second before asking. “Randall…exactly how much blood was there?”

____________________________________________

Sam immediately went out into the prison yard after his shift to see Dean playing poker with a fellow inmate for cigarettes. “Call.” Dean said, placing down a card. “Three Aces” The inmate smirked, holding up his cards. Dean feigned a sigh, “That’s a bad beat.” The inmate went to pick up the cigarettes, “That is a bad beat, but see, I’m full. Threes over aces” Dean smirked widely as the inmate huffed in frustration and smacked the table.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean laughed, “I’m sorry. Hey, it’s a cruel game, my friend” Dean laughed, shrugging as the inmate tossed his cards on the table and left. “Sorry guys” Dean smiled tightly as he gathered the cigarettes laying on the table up and placed them into a little baggy. Sam took the inmate’s seat, sitting across from his brother.

“It’s like picking low hanging fruit” Dean cackled, as he bagged the cigarettes up. “You rarely smoke, Dean” Sam scoffed, pointing out the obvious, “You kidding? This is the currency of the realm” Dean retorted, earning a deadpan look from Sam that said, ‘Yeah, right’. Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine, it’s a little gift for Y/N. Sue me for being an awesome friend” Dean shot back.

Sam rolled his eyes again, Dean was more excited about having cigarettes to give Y/N than he usually was about anything. The younger Winchester cleared his throat, wanting to get Dean’s focus back on to something else. “Dean…” Sam began.

“Yes, Sam?” Dean responded, gathering the cigarettes and bagging them up. “I’ve been doing some talking” Sam began, “I’ve been talking too” Dean retorted, “Yeah?” Sam asked, a little skeptical. “What have you been talking about?” He inquired. “I think I’ve got a good lead on Moody,” Sam said.

“Yeah, me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night” Dean replied, stuffing the bag into his jacket. “What?” Sam gasped, “Clock-stop, flickering lights, cold spot. I mean, he did everything but yell ‘Boo’” Dean scoffed, “Well, what happened?” Sam asked concerned. “He walked right by me,” Dean sighed, looking down at his hands.

“Lucas wasn’t so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming…The guy was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to go like that” Dean shook his head, “What'd you find out about Moody?” He asked Sam. “Yeah, so I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell” Sam explained. Dean furrowed his brows at this.

“Blood? I thought it was a heart attack” Dean said, “it was, after the guards worked him over” Sam scoffed, “I mean, apparently, there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it out” He further explained, Dean nodded in return, reaching into his jacket to take out a cigarette from the baggy, “How are we gonna get in?” He asked Sam as he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

“I got a plan” Sam shrugged, earning a smirk from Dean. “That’s the Sammy I know. I mean, come on. You’re like Clint Eastwood from Escape from Alcatraz” Dean chuckled as he let the steam from the cigarette out through his nose. “Look, the problem is, Even if we do find something, how are we gonna salt and burn it? We don’t have any accelerant” Sam signed heavily.

“Good thing I’m like James Garner from The Great Escape” Dean winked at him before taking out the cigarette baggy, ready to bet more and win more to take back home, “Hey fellas?! Who’s ready to deal?” Dean shouted, holding up his lit cigarette and the baggy of cigarettes. Sam rolled his eyes in return as Dean took another drag from his cigarette and more inmates piled around him.

____________________________________________

Y/N was pacing around the motel room, her anxiety was over the top today since that phone call with Dean and the fact that her best friend was running late wasn’t helping. She looked at her watch and groaned loudly, “Where is she?” She muttered under her breath and continued pacing around the room.

Y/N has been on edge since the boys purposefully got themselves caught, she hated the idea and was very vocal about it but she understood where Dean was coming from when he said that they repaid their debts. That didn’t stop her from worrying though.

Because she herself was a fugitive, Y/N was under motel arrest and she had no way to comfort herself other than her pack of Dunhill and wearing one of Dean’s old shirts. It still smelt like his musk and gave her the comfort she needed right now to stop herself from running into a wall repeatedly.

Did she feel stupid because her friend's shirt was bringing her comfort? Yes, she felt insane and as though she was desperate. Was she gonna admit that to him? Fuck no. But was she going to continue wearing it and most likely sleep in it tonight? You bet your last dollar she was.

After waiting impatiently, there was a knock on the door. Y/N’s head snapped up and she quickly went to the door, opening it to reveal her best friend, Jo Harvelle. “Oh thank God ” Y/N sighed, pulling Jo into a tight hug.

“You’re late,” Y/N scolded once she pulled away from the hug, closing the door behind her. Jo raised her hands up in defense, “I know I know. I’m sorry, I had some stuff to take care of” She replied apologetically. Y/N’s harsh facade quickly melted to concern, “Everything okay?” She asked worriedly.

Jo sighed as she sat down on the edge of one of the beds, “Yeah, no, it’s no biggie” She replied, watching Y/N take a seat on the other bed. Y/N didn’t believe that for a second, she knew her best friend too well to believe her. She raised her eyebrows at Jo, “Don’t lie to me, Joanna” She pointed a finger at her.

Jo chuckled a little at the use of her full name, she rolled her eyes and sighed, “Alright, I had a bit of a run in with my mother” She admitted. Y/N sighed, offering her friend a small smile. “She still mad about you hunting?” She said softly as Jo nodded, peeling off her jacket, a small frown on her face.

“She’ll come around, Jo. She loves you” Y/N assured her as she took out two beers from the mini fridge, handing Jo one. Jo took the beer from Y/N’s hand and took off the cap, “Yeah, but I wish she did a better job at showing it” She replied with a hint of frustration, taking a swig of the beer. Y/N sat down next to her on the bed and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“She’s just worried about you,” She said softly. “Besides the point” Jo tried to change the topic, taking a seat next to Y/N. “How are our boys?” Jo asked, sipping her beer. Y/N let out a sigh, “Sam is doing alright. Dean on the other hand…” She trailed off, looking down into her beer. “He hung up on me last night and I’m worried.” She added as she brought the beer to her lips, taking a long sip.

“Now I know they can handle themselves in there but fuck, I’m worried” Y/N murmured. “Did you talk to Sam?” Y/N asked Jo. The younger hunter nodded, “Yeah but you know how vague they can be” Jo shrugged, “All he told me was that they were both fine and not to worry” She added, Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, that’s reassuring” She muttered sarcastically.

They sat in a moment of silence, both sipping on their beers. Y/N’s mind was going at a hundred miles an hour as a hundred different thoughts, worries and scenarios ran through her head. Jo studied Y/N for a few moments before noticing she was beginning to bite her nails which was a sign of anxiety. Jo gently smacked Y/N’s hand, “Stop it, you’re nervous” Jo scolded.

Y/N flinched at the smack and looked over at Jo, “Sorry” She mumbled, pulling her hand down and putting it in her lap, “I’m just worried” She admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong in there” She added, fiddling with one of the rings on her fingers.

“Hey, hey, stop it” Jo interrupted, “They’ll be okay. You know that, our boys can handle themselves” Jo said in an attempt to reassure her, but she didn’t sound too confident and it sounded more so she was trying to convince herself.

Y/N exhaled and nodded, “Yeah, I know they can but there’s something about this case that’s making me worry more” She confessed, fiddling with the ring in her fingers. “This is prison we’re talking about, there’s a lot more stuff that can go wrong” The young psychic said, her voice laced with concern.

Jo sighed softly, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on Y/N’s leg “They’re gonna be fine. You know them, they’ll come back in one piece” She assured her, squeezing her leg in a gentle way. Y/N nodded, attempting to believe her words, “Yeah, okay. You’re probably right” She mumbled.

Jo gave Y/N a small smile, “I know I’m right” She said, gently poking Y/N’s leg, trying to make her laugh. Y/N chuckled, gently swatting her hand away. Jo chuckled lightly in response, “There’s that laugh” She smirked. Y/N shook her head before sighing deeply.

“Well, I’m under motel-arrest until they call me when it’s time to come pick ‘em up when the case is over. You sticking around till then?” Y/N asked hopefully, “You could surprise Sam” She added in a teasing tone, nudging Jo with her foot.

Jo blushed slightly, a grin broke out on her face as she playfully shoved Y/N’s foot away. “Maybe I will” She giggled, trying to hide her smile. Y/N grinned widely at her friend, it was so easy to tease Jo about her crush.

“Ooh! We could order in, watch crappy movies and paint each other’s nails” Jo said, getting excited, she loved girl time, especially with her best friend after being on the road for so long. “You’re talking like we’re a couple of thirteen-year olds having a sleepover” Y/N teased, laughing. “I’m totally down for a movie night, though” Y/N added.

“We’re in our twenties and we’re fucking hunters, we need to have girl nights once in a while. We deserve it” Jo said as she placed her beer bottle on the table beside the bed. “Now, we’re going to order some food, and you are going to chill, because worrying is not going to do anything and those two dumbasses will be fine” She said, fixing Y/N with a look.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she picked up her phone, “Whatever, but I’m picking the movie, you can pick the food” She shot back, handing Jo the phone. Jo chuckled and took the phone from Y/N, “Only because I don’t wanna listen to you complain” She said as she began ordering the food. Y/N rolled her eyes again, “You suck” She muttered, trying to hold back a smile.

After Jo ordered the food, Y/N sat with her, sipping on her beer, chatting and waiting for the food. Y/N smiled to herself as a wave of unfamiliar happiness took her over. Sure she spent the majority of her time with the boys and she loved the brothers like her own family.

But there was something special about having a girls night, even if it was just in a motel room while waiting for a call from Sam or Dean to haul their asses out of prison and the “girls night” was just movies, room service and girl talk. It made her think of the home she never really had, of how Y/N would wish she had a mother to have girls nights with.

Sure, growing up she would twist Sam or Dean’s arm (mainly Dean) into watching chick flicks with her, but she never had that bond with another girl, as much as she wanted to. It sucked moving from town to town and never being able to grow a strong friendship with someone she could call a ‘sister’. Not that she wasn’t grateful for her brother, she’d die for Sammy in a heartbeat.

Her friendship with Jo had a rough start, but she’ll forever be grateful for Jo’s forgiving nature and allowing her to experience the wonders of sisterhood. But what she didn’t know is, Jo felt the exact same way about her. She was her sister, they were sisters and nothing was going to change that.

____________________________________________

Sam and Dean were currently in the lunch line, “You sure about this?” Dean whispered to his brother as they scooted along the line, “Pretty sure” Sam whispered back, Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, considering the circumstances, I’d like a little better than pretty sure” Dean shot back, using Sam’s words from the day before against him.

Sam scoffed in return, “Okay, really pretty sure” Sam sassed before moving out of the line. Dean shook his head before turning to the cook. “I’d like mine al dente” He mused as the cook just slapped down a pile of noodles on his tray harshly along with some beans. “Perfect” Dean grimaced, smiling tightly as he made his way over to a table.

Sitting by the table was Tiny, Lucas’ friend. He slapped his tray on the table as the heavy tatted and rather large inmate glared at him. “Save room for dessert, Tiny” Dean laughed as he sat across from Tiny. “Hey, I wanted to ask you because I couldn’t help but notice you are two tons of fun” Dean said sarcastically, making Tiny’s eyes darken in his direction.

Dean then leaned in, “Just curious, is that a thyroid problem or is that just some deep-seated self-esteem issues?” Dean smirked, trying to get a rise out of the inmate. Sam gulped from across the room, trying to be subtle about his action. “Because, you know, they’re, uh, just doughnuts. They’re not love” Dean chuckled as Tiny narrowed his eyes at him.

Tiny nodded with a faux smile as Dean continued to laugh, Sam kept an eye on the two, waiting for someone to hit the other. Tiny did exactly as anticipated and balled his fist up, right hooking the elder Winchester in a flash. Dean was tumbling to the ground, grunting as he pushed himself back up to see Tiny standing over him.

He wore a smug grin before punching Tiny across his jaw. The inmate barely reacted, earning a confused and slightly fearful look from Dean. So he left hooked him quickly before punching him in the gut but Tiny was still standing. He snatched Dean by his collar before head butting him, making Dean grow dizzy as a guard attempted to subdue Tiny.

But Tiny quickly grappled the guard and sent him reeling in a table back first. The fight finally caught the attention of a few other guards, “Guys, give me a hand!” One of the guards yelled as they charged at Tiny and Dean, both were still throwing punches at each other.

Meanwhile, Sam took the opportunity of the distracted guards to sneak into the kitchen. The younger Winchester quickly pocketed a jar of salt before making his way to one of the vents, pulling out the covering before crawling into the open space.

Dean was still outside, the guard trying to part him and Tiny. With a couple more heavy grunts, they finally separated the two riled up inmates, three guards were holding back Tiny as a one yanked Dean up from the floor. One of the familiar guards gripped Dean by his face, forcing him to look at him.

“If we waited longer, you’d be dead” The guard said firmly before pushing his face away. “Well, you waited long enough,” Dean said, feeling a bit woozy from the fight. The guard gritted his teeth before kneeing Dean in his gut. The Hunter doubled over in pain, gripping his midsection. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t talk” The guard growled, gripping Dean by his hair.

Dean Winchester winced, blood dripping from an open wound on his cheek, his eye was already looking bruised from the fight the day before and it was just getting worse from the blows he received from Tiny. “Take the both up to the infirmary” The guard ordered his subordinate. He nodded in agreement before escorting a groaning Dean out of the cafeteria.

-

Meanwhile, Sam finally made his way into the old cell block after crawling his way from the vent in the kitchen. He scanned the area, investing and looking for the old cell of Moody.

Eventually he stumbled on an old cot, grimacing as he turned it to reveal old dried blood. Sam groaned in disgust as he took out the salt from his pocket and Dean’s lighter he used to light his cigarette. He salted the blooded cot before breaking one of the lighters and emptying the lighter fluid onto the cot.

He then struck a match before tossing it onto the cot, burning it fully, hoping that the spirit was now put to rest.

-

During this time, Dean was in the infirmary. His head pounding, his jaw aching and the only thing that was keeping him sane was the thought that his brother was nearby and the woman he loved was waiting for him on the outside. All he wanted right now was a warm hug and to inhale that coconut shampoo and tobacco he’d never grow tired of smelling on her.

“Hey, Tiny?” Dean called out to Tiny, who was in the cell next to him on his own infirmary bed. “Yeah?” Tiny responded. “Hey, sorry about the things I was saying earlier” Dean apologized sincerely, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on the cold wall. “I can’t really tell you why, but I had to get you angry,” Dean said vaguely as he sighed.

“So, uh….anyways, sorry” Dean added, looking as his hands. He couldn’t see it, but Tiny smiled a bit at his apology, the large and heavily tatted inmate nodded, “It’s okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues” Ting admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. Dean’s brows cocked up in surprise as Tiny opened up.

“My old man treated me, my brother and my little sister like crap. Right up until the day he died” Tiny told him, standing up to lean against the bars. “How'd he die?” Dean asked curiously, making casual conversation with the inmate. “My brother shot him. And my sister buried the body” Tiny admitted.

Dean's eyes widened at how casually Tiny said it, “Okay…” Dean muttered, pursing his lips when his eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure. What looked like the figure of a very nasty looking woman was staring back at him. The room grew colder and the clock at the corner of the room stopped. “Oh fuck” Dean cursed, pushing himself up from his cot.

“What is it?” Tiny asked upon hearing Dean curse. As Dean stared at the ghost, he couldn’t help but think if Y/N was here, she’d say she was getting ‘that feeling’ and Dean would mock her about her ‘ESP Thing’. He tilted his head as the dirty pale woman dressed like an infirmary nurse made her way towards him.

Instantly, Dean tried to push at the bars but it was no use, the guards had locked him in along with Tiny. “What’s going on?”’ Tiny asked again as Dean rattled at the door and the ghost inched towards them. Dean quickly reached into his tray of food, taking up the salt but the ghost quickly sent him flying into the wall, back first.

Dean grunted in pain as he tumbled into the ground, “Oh, fuck!!” Dean shouted, “What is it?!” Tiny yelled back in concern, hearing the commotion but he couldn’t see from the angle his cell was in. Dean opened his eyes to see the ghost standing above him, she instantly placed his hand over his heart, causing him to groan, feeling as if his heart was slowing down.

The ghost growled at him, the hunter could feel his heart begin to give out but thought quickly and flicked the cap off of the salt in his hand, tossing it on the ghost. Making her disapparate. Dean gasped as the tension of the ghost attempting to kill him left his body, the pain easing. But his eyes widened when he heard Tiny scream in terror, “NOOO!!” The inmate cried out.

“Tiny!!!” Dean shouted, pushing himself up from the ground. “Tiny!!!!” Dean tried to warn him, but Tiny was fading, groaning and screaming in pain. “Guard!!! Guard!!!” Dean rattled at the bars, shouting for the guard, but it was no use.

The sounds of the inmate’s tortured scream echoed through the block, sending a cold shiver down Dean’s spine as he gripped the bars tighter, his knuckles turning white.

However, like in the blink of an eye, silence fell over the two blocks. The sound of Tiny screaming had ceased. The hunter panted heavily, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. The air was eerily thick as the silence continued.

____________________________________________

The next morning, Dean was giving Sam the rundown of the events in the infirmary. “Wait, so you’re telling me it wasn’t Moody?” Sam asked surprised as they strolled through the prison yard. “Not unless he liked going around dressed like a nurse” Dean shot back, burying his hands in his jacket. “Poor Tiny, man. Poor…giant Tiny” Dean sighed.

“Wait so, this is- this is like the ghost of some nurse who worked here or something?” Sam asked, “I don’t know man, I guess” Dean groaned, “You know what, Dean. At this point, ‘I don’t know, I guess’ isn’t really working for me” Sam sassed, “See, uh…I thought we were done” The younger Winchester retorted, “I called Deacon, it’s happening. We’re getting out tonight” Sam informed him.

“I guess we gotta do some quick research, then” Dean said as if it were simple. Sam looked at his brother as if he were crazy. “How? I mean, maybe you haven’t noticed, we’re in jail!” Sam exclaimed in a whisper tone, gesturing to their surroundings.

-

“So you wanna know about some nurse? Why do you wanna know” Randall asked the boys as they interrogated him in the prison yard. “We got our reasons” Dean said bluntly, earning a side eye from Sam. “But, uh…we’ll make it worth your while” Dean smirked, holding up one of the packs of cigarettes he won.

Randall smirked in response, accepting the cigarettes from Dean. “So this nurse, she would have had white hair, one screwed-up eye. Is that ringing a bell?” Dean asked, pointing to his eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember her” Randall nodded. “You remember her name?” Dean asked, “No, that’s still kinda fuzzy,” Randall smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam chuckled, “Give it to him” Sam told Dean, indicating to the cigarettes. Dean clenched his jaw, “It’s for Y/N” He whined, “Dean, you’ve got tons remaining. Just give it to him” Sam insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, come on, man!” Dean groaned, handing over the cigarettes to Randall begrudgingly, who took it without hesitation. “Glockner. Nurse Glockner” He told them, stuffing the cigarettes into his pocket. “Nasty old bitch worked here in the 70s” Randall scoffed with distaste.

“You knew her?” Sam asked, “I met her once. I had to get a tetanus shot” Randall told them. “She damn near jammed the needle through the other side of my arm. At least I got outta there alive.” He explained. “What do you mean?” Sam asked curiously.

“Well, there were these stories, you know? I don’t know if they were true. Cons love to talk, but we’re all liars” Randall shrugged. “What kind of stories?” Dean asked. “Well, guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold, next thing you know, they’re in a body bag. A whole rash of heart attacks. Young guys, old guys” Randall further explained.

“Heart attacks?” Sam raised his brow at this. Randall nodded, “Yeah. The story was Glockner had it out for cons and she did the Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic.” Sam and Dean shared a look as he spoke. “But anyway, that was a rumor. Nobody proved anything” He added. “Whatever happened to Glockner?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. I finished my bit and left. Next time I landed back in here, she was gone” Randall shrugged.

-

It was now lunchtime and the Winchesters were discussing the case in the cafeteria, “Okay, let’s say those stories on Glockner were true.” Sam began. “It’s a thought. In life, she’s a vigilante. In death, same thing” Dean whispered. “Right, but I mean, how’s she tied in with the old cellblock?” Sam questioned. “And if she’s going after cons, why kill that one guard?” He added.

“Well, I did hear in the yard that that guard wasn’t exactly squeaky clean. So, maybe she’s going after anybody that breaks the law, like me” Dean stated, Sam’s brows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You heard in the yard?” Sam gave Dean his classic bitchface. “Yeah” Dean shrugged. His normalcy made Sam snort.

“Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?” Sam pointed out, “No, not really” Dean shrugged again. Sam rolled his eyes again in return, “Alright, well, listen. Either way, we need more info on Glockner. If she’s buried. If so, where. And we got…five hours to get it” Sam stated. It was Dean’s turn to give Sam a bitch face.

“No, no. Don’t you dare give me that ‘we-gotta-see-this-thing-through’ look.” Sam warned Dean, pressing his index finger to the table. “We are leaving tonight, no matter what” He said firmly. “I just don’t wanna let Deacon down. We owe him” Dean whispered back. “Yeah. But we don’t owe him our lives, Dean!” Sam lowly exclaimed.

Dean clenched his jaw, thinking deeply. He thought for a few seconds before making up his mind. He then got up from his seat without a word, “Where are you going?” Sam scoffed, “I'm gonna go have a chat with our favorite psychic” Dean smirked.

____________________________________________

Dean was currently sitting in the non-contact visiting area, patiently waiting for Y/N to arrive. Sure he had his phone that he could use to call her, but as selfish as it sounds, he needed to see her. Of course, y/n was skeptical about coming. It was a risk for her to show herself, but being a hunter means you gotta learn to disguise yourself.

She wouldn’t admit it, but she needed to see Dean just as much as he needed to see her. So, she made Jo wait in the Impala while she met with Dean.

It wasn’t too long when the glass doors opened and Y/N walked through, being led inside by a guard. She was wearing a long beige trench coat to cover her entire body, along with a dusty long wig with bangs that looked like she bought it from Party City to hide her natural (h/l) (h/c) hair.

Dean’s heartbeat quickened as he eyed her, it was as if she were an ice cold drink on a burning hot day. His eyes raked her up and down, he hadn’t forgotten just how damn good she looked.

Y/N sat in the seat across from him through the glass and picked up the phone, “Hey charming” She greeted with a smile that had clear relief behind it, putting the phone up to her ear. “Hey, princess” Dean replied, his heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the view before him.

Seeing Y/N’s face had lifted his mood instantly, he missed her more than he’d like to admit. “You have no idea how much I missed you” He added. She chuckled at his words but the sound was only heard through the phone, “Right back at you” She responded. Her eyes roamed his face, his rugged look as well as the look of his orange jumpsuit.

Her eyes landed instantly on the dark red bruise on Dean’s eye, her heart dropping. “They treating you okay in there?” Y/N asked, noticing the bruise. Her question made him smirk, “Nothing I can’t handle, sweetheart” He assured her. Y/N’s brows furrowed in response, not convinced, “Dean, this isn’t funny. Be serious” She said.

“I am being serious” He countered, his smile never leaving his face, even with the bruise. She stared at him with a firm expression, “How did you get that black eye?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Dean’s smile began to falter, “Um, uh-“ he stuttered, hesitating a moment.

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her eyebrow at him again, “Don’t lie to me, Dean” She warned. Dean knew there was no use in trying to get out of this one, “Okay, I um…I got into a little scuffle” He admitted sheepishly. “Another one?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” She lowly exclaimed through the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey now. Calm down, I’m fine” He told her, holding one of his hands. Y/N pursed her lips out, “You promise you’re fine?” She questioned. “I promise” He nodded a little, seeing the pout on her face. Her worry was always endearing to him.

However, Y/N wasn’t convinced. Dean noticed it so he instantly held up his pinky, waving it from the other side of the glass. “I pinky promise” He said with a charming smirk. Her lips finally curled up into a smile at the sight of his pinky. She rolled her eyes fondly at him as she let out a soft sigh, “You can’t break a pinky promise” She teased, holding up her own pinky in return.

“Okay, now onto what I called you here for” Dean’s tone switched to a serious one as they placed their pinkies back down. Y/N’s face dropped to a more serious face as he did, “Yeah” She nodded, ready to listen. “We need you to dig up some intel on a Nurse Glockner. She worked here in the 70’s.” Dean informed her, keeping his voice quiet incase if anyone was listening to their conversation.

“Wait, wait. Glockner? I thought Moody was haunting the prison?” Y/N responded, keeping her voice low. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too but, turns out, he’s just a regular con” Dean explained, the conversation was sounding a bit ridiculous. “Turns out the ghost of Nurse Glockner is our culprit,” He added.

“We think she was doing some vigilante thing. Killing the cons she felt deserved it” He whispered. Y/N leaned her forehead against the glass thoughtfully and chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she listened. “Alright. I’ll get on that right now.” Y/N nodded, “And Dean?” She said quietly, her eyes flickering to meet his.

“Yeah?” He responded, leaning his forehead against his side of the glass, their faces mere inches away from each other, the only thing separating them was the glass. “Please be careful” Y/N pleaded, placing her hand up against the glass.

He smiled softly at her, a look of tenderness appearing in his features. His hand instinctively went up to the glass, mirroring hers. He wished he could touch her, hold her, bring her in his arms. He missed that more than anything, but he couldn’t. His gaze was soft and gentle as he spoke, “I will” He promised.

“Good. I want you to come back in one piece” She told him firmly. “No promises, sweetheart” He joked with a smirk, but deep down he was serious. She narrowed her eyes at him in response, not amused. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” He put his free hand up in front of him, as if surrendering before leaning his head on the glass again.

She finally chuckled softly but rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously. Be careful, sweetie.” She warned again, more firmly than the previous time. She didn’t let him respond, instead, she placed a kiss on her hand and pressed it against the glass. Offering him a small smile before reattaching the phone to the compartment.

Dean felt his chest flutter at the sight of it, a feeling of warmth spreading through his body. He gave her a smile in return, a real smile. His heart ached for her, he missed her so damned much. His heart almost exploded when she planted the kiss behind the glass.

Dean watched as she walked away, mimicking the action after she left. He pressed a kiss to his hand before placing it in the exact spot she placed her own kiss. Unfortunately, her back was turnt to him as she walked out the door, so she didn’t get to see, but he didn't care. Just seeing her, even if there was a glass separating them, just made his day.

A feeling of emptiness consumed him when her figure disappeared through the door. He sat in the chair, staring at the closed door with a look of disappointment and heartache before placing the phone back into the compartment. He wanted to get out so badly, he felt like a caged animal in a prison cell. He knew he was getting out in five hours, but it felt like an eternity.

He sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “Dammit” He muttered to himself.

-

Y/N could feel her heart in her ass as she exited the building. Her hands were buried in her pockets of her trench-coat, quickly making her way to the Impala where Jo sat waiting in the passenger seat. Jo had a bored expression on her face, looked back towards her upon her seeing Y/N walking towards the car. “Well?” She asked, wanting to be updated on the visit.

Y/N sighed heavily as she opened the driver's side door, plopping into the seat. “They want us to do some research on a Nurse Glockner who worked there in the 70s. We gotta get this like yesterday because Deacon already called me, they’re breaking out tonight.“ Y/N explained as she peeled off the dusty blonde wig, tossing it in the backseat.

“Glockner? That’s kind of a weird name ” Jo responded, her head tilted as she watched her friend toss the wig into the back. “Wait, they’re getting out tonight?” Jo’s eyes widened at the news. “Yep, you’re getting to see your boy toy, don’t worry” Y/N teased Jo about Sam as she started the ignition to Baby.

“Shut up,” Jo muttered with a roll of her eyes to Y/N’s joke about Sam, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll get to see your boy toy too, you know” She retorted with a smirk on her face. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Dean soon, “Shut up,” She responded, pulling out of the parking lot.

-

Two hours later, Sam was waiting in the prison yard for Dean, his eyes scanning the area. It was pretty easy to point out that Sam hated being there, he was just counting down the hours until they could bust out of this hell-hole and he can get back to a dingy old motel and call Jo but he didn’t know she was already in town with Y/N.

Sam let out an impatient sigh as he paced the yard of the prison, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. He hated it, he’d much rather just hunt monsters down than be stuck behind a set of bars.

He also missed Jo a lot. He had missed seeing her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the way she could make him feel things he didn’t normally feel. Just the thought of her made his heart skip a beat. All he wanted to do was-

His thought process was cut short when Dean came into view, he waved at his brother from across the yard. Quickly making his way over to him, “How’d it go?” He asked Dean about his visit with Y/N. “As good as a visit through a piece of glass can go, I guess” Dean responded, not able to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I could hardly see her,” He added. The disappointment that Sam heard in his voice was obvious. Dean cleared his throat, shook his head and stuffed his hands into his own jacket. “She’s digging up some dirt on the deadly nurse” He filled him in.

“We can’t wait around too long, Dean,” Sam said impatiently. “Sammy, relax. It’s Y/N, the chick can dig up lore half asleep, running on a pack of cigarettes and a cup of Joe. She’s got this” Dean assured his brother. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “Even if she can’t do it, we could give it another day,” Dean added firmly.

Sam clenched his jaw, “No no no, we’re leaving tonight, and that’s it” He said stubbornly, “So we’re not gonna finish the job? We’re just gonna let these people die?” Dean gritted his teeth as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me that, alright? This was your stupid plan. And me and y/n went along with it, much to our demise, so we’re sticking to the plan, Dean” Sam kept his voice low but firm.

Dean’s nostrils flared as he ran his fingers along his bruised eye, “Okay, you leave. I’m gonna stay” Dean spat before turning on his heels to walk away. Sam’s eyes widened. “Hey, don’t turn away from me!” Sam shouted, “Fuck you!” Dean shot back angrily, “What?! Fuck you!!” Sam’s blood boiled as he grabbed his big brother by his shoulder, forcing him to look at him.

Dean instantly retaliated, shoving his little brother harshly by his chest. A herd of guards were instantly on their asses, one holding back Dean and another holding back Sam. “Alright, hard case. I see the usual methods ain’t gonna work with you!” The familiar guard said harshly as he tossed Dean into the other guard's hands.

“You too, sweetheart” He growled at Sam, snatching him by his shoulder. The Winchester brothers glared at each other as they were escorted from the prison yard and to the showers.

-

One of the guards shoved Sam and Dean into the shower as the familiar guard said, “Take off. I wanna handle this alone.” He instructed him, the subordinate listened, doing exactly as told. As he left the showers, the guard turned to the pair of brothers, approaching them slowly.

A smile broke out on his face as he ruffled Dean’s hair, the three men chuckling. “Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man” Dean groaned as they turned around, Deacon chuckled in response as he undid their handcuffs. “Sorry, Dean. I thought I was going easy on you” Deacon shot back playfully, undoing Sam’s handcuffs.

Dean laughed in response, “I’m just, uh, trying to make it look real” Deacon assured them as he unhooked the cuffs. “Yeah, well, mission accomplished,” Dean snorted. “Thanks for those phones, by the way, came in real handy” Dean said gratefully before patting his brother on his shoulder. “My brother here was missing his girl” He chuckled, earning a bitchface from Sam.

Deacon chuckled as he watched the Winchester brothers, finding the interaction slightly amusing. Sam was already pissed off for a few reasons, and Dean's words about him missing Jo just pissed him off more as he shoved him by his shoulder.

“Shut up. Speak for yourself” Sam hissed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s comment and shoving Dean back. Deacon chuckled once again at the exchange, “No worries, man. So, is it over?” Deacon asked them as he stuffed the handcuffs into his pockets.

“No, it turns out it wasn’t Moody” Sam sighed, “What?” Deacon's jaw dropped, “Yeah” Sam nodded. “Then who?” He asked, “Uh, we think it’s some nurse who used to work here. But we’re still shy on all the intel we need. Now my sister is working on it but we’re not sure if she’s gonna get the intel in time” Sam explained.

“Which is why we should stick around until we find it” Dean said, receiving a glare from Sam in return. “Oh, hey, guys” Deacon began as he pulled something out of his pocket, Sam started on Dean’s case. “You wanna have this fight for real, Dean?! We gotta go, we gotta go now!” Sam shouted at his brother.

“I’m just saying, Y/N will get it done!” Dean defended. “Guys-” Deacon tried to butt in. “We’re leaving, Dean! Otherwise we’ll be leaving in shackles for Milwaukee with Henricksen as company!” Sam argued, “Oh come on!” Dean scoffed, waving a dismissive hand at Sam. “Guys!!!” Deacon shouted.

“What?!” The Winchesters snapped in unison, turning to Deacon. The prison guard had an amused look on his face as he held up a paper, handing it to Dean. “Your girlfriend left this for you” Deacon chuckled. Dean's heart fluttered for a split second as he snatched the letter from Deacon.

Dean chuckled victoriously before turning to Sam, “I told you y/n would get it done!” Dean exclaimed triumphantly, waving the paper with the information on Nurse Glockner on it. “Man, I am fucking velvety smooth” Dean said smugly as he tore open the letter, “You wanna maybe open it, you know, after you’re done patting yourself on the back, loverboy??” Sam sassed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes Deacon snickered in amusement at the exchange between the brothers as Dean opened up the letter. “Wow,” Dean muttered as he read the information that was neatly written in Y/N’s handwriting. “What? Well, you wanna share with the class, Dean?” Sam asked impatiently.

“Glockner died in the old cell block right after Moody bit it” Dean informed them, Sam’s eyes widened as he and Deacon shared a panicked look. “Seems like they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle. They dragged her to a solitary cell, gave her a severe cerebral edema” Dean read. “Someone bashed her head in,” Sam gasped.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered, “Say where she’s buried?” Sam asked, “Yep. Seems like y/n already handled it” Dean nodded, a proud smile on his face at the fact that within a couple of hours, she got the information and took care of the spirit. Sam smiled in relief at this, “Alright, let’s get you the hell outta here” Deacon said before moving over to a vent in the showers. .

Sam and Dean nodded in obedience, “Boys, uh…I can’t thank you enough for this. I know it was asking a lot, but you two and your friend still came through.” Deacon said gratefully, “Your daddy and his friend raised you kids right” Deacon complimented them, Dean smiled softly, appreciating the compliment as Sam gulped.

“Well, we owed you” Sam assured him with a timid nod, placing his hand out to shake Deacon. The guard accepted, pulling Sam into a firm bro-hug. “I hope to see you again, huh? Just not in here, okay?” Deacon said to the pair as he hugged Dean. The three chuckled as they nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll do our best” Sam assured him, “Right, yeah” Dean laughed as they moved over to the vent. Dean then suddenly remembered something, turning back to Deacon with his fist up. “Oh. Where do you want it?” He smirked at Deacon. “What?” Deacon asked, confused.

Dean gave him his classic cheeky smile in hopes he’d get to punch him as a cover up of them escaping after Deacon practically beat the hell out of him. Realization dawned on the prison guard’s mind as he snorted, “Yeah, uhem..” He pointed to his cheek. Dean instantly reeled back his fist. “Uh-” Deacon stopped him.

Dean raised his brow at him, “Make it look real, son” Deacon smirked, Dean chuckled in return before nodding and reading his fist back. Sam instantly turned his head away as Dean right hooked Deacon across his jaw.

Deacon groaned in pain as he clutched his jaw in agony. Sam chuckled as Deacon continued grunting and groaning in pain, as Dean watched with a smirk on his face. “Damn, you sure know how to put some force behind those swings,” Deacon grunted, “I’ll be feeling that for days, man” He added, wincing as he spat out some blood from his mouth.

“That’s the idea, big guy,” Dean said gruffly as he patted him on the back. Deacon chuckled as he held his jaw, “That hit was for kneeing me” Dean retorted, patting his midsection.

____________________________________________

Sam and Dean appeared in the parking lot a few minutes later, quickly making their way over to the beloved car. “Hey!” Sam called out as they approached Y/N who was leaning against the Impala, smoking a cigarette. “Woahh, look at those handsome faces. I hope you fellas didn’t drop the soap” Y/N teased as she tossed the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with her boot.

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny” Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff as wrapped his arms around her shoulders into a quick hug, Y/N returned the hug as a smile stretched across Dean’s face, “Oh, baby. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” Dean muttered, eyeing his car. “Are you talking to me or the car?” Y/N teased as Sam stripped out of his jacket, he was yet to see Jo in the passenger side as they were all on the drivers side.

“I’m talking to the most beautiful girl I know who just so happens to be leaning up against my car” Dean smirked, Y/N rolled her eyes, she never failed to blush or get butterflies in her stomach whenever he would compliment her, especially with that mischievous smile that was a hundred times more sexier in the orange glow illuminated from the orange lamp in the parking lot.

“Don’t try to be smooth now, asshat” She chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. Dean wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her into him. He inhaled her scent which always seemed to soothe him as he buried his nose into the crook of her neck. Y/N smiled and tightened her grip around his waist.

Sam rolled his eyes at the two, crossing his arms over his chest. “I got a gift for you, Sammy” Y/N told him as she and Dean pulled away from the hug. Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, then a honk from the Impala caused him to jump. His heart stopped when he heard, “You better give me one of those hugs, Winchester” Jo’s voice filled his ears as she climbed out of the passenger side.

His eyes widened as he looked over at the passenger side, his breath hitched in his throat as his heart skipped a beat or twenty when he saw Jo, she closed the car door after hopping out. As quickly as he could, Sam wrapped his arms around her frame, hugging her tightly against his body as Jo chuckled softly, returning the same affection.

Sam buried his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent as Y/N watched in amusement alongside Dean as they leaned against the hood, watching the scene play out in front of them. “I’ve got a gift for you too” Dean smirked at Y/N, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Y/N looked up at him curious as to what ‘gift’ he had for her. Dean’s smirk grew, knowing that she would absolutely love it and probably laugh her ass off. “You do, huh?” She smirked back as she shoved her hands into her leather jacket.

“Mhm,” Dean responded with a small nod, his smirk still firmly in place in his face as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes he saved from when he won playing poker. “Tada” He said in a mockingly theatrical way, waving the pack in her face. Her eyes widened, excitement filling in them as she eagerly took the pack from him,

“Prison cigarettes?” She gasped mockingly, placing a hand over her mouth. “A man after my heart” She teased. “Something like that,” Dean responded, his smirk widening. He noticed the way her eyes lit up when he handed her the cigarettes, and her sarcastic comment made him chuckle. He loved seeing her excited and happy, even if it was over a simple thing like a pack of cigarettes.

“Ahem” Jo cleared her throat dramatically, leaning against the Impala with Sam beside her, a smug smile gracing his features. Dean and Y/N had seemingly forgotten Jo and Sam were right there. Y/N and Dean snapped out of their own little world and turned their attention to the other pair, who were casually leaning against the Impala, watching them with amused expressions on their faces.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed for not paying attention while Sam and Jo stood there, grinning at the two. “We don’t mean to break up the love fest, but we gotta go before they haul all our asses in jail” Jo joked as Sam opened the back door for her.

Y/N shot Jo a nasty glare for her comment, “Shut up, skank” She huffed in annoyance as she opened the drivers side door, the keys dangling in her hand. Dean smirked, a little bit of pink playing on his freckled nose. He would never get tired of watching her drive Baby. He climbed into the passenger's seat, while Sam got into the back next to Jo.

“Bite me, slut” Jo retorted, grinning widely as Y/N started the Impala. “Oh, I’ll bite you alright” Y/N threatened with a smirk, “I’m not promising you’ll like it though” She added as she shifted into drive and started pulling out of the parking lot. “Oh, baby I’ll like it” Jo winked playfully at Y/N, this made her roll her eyes as Dean bursted out into laughter.

“Jesus, you guys are gross” Sam muttered from the backseat with a roll of his eyes, Jo giggled as she elbowed him. Y/N heard his comment and flipped him off through the rearview mirror, causing him to scoff out a laugh.

When Dean’s laughter subsided, he narrowed his eyes at Y/N’s chest, and not for the reason you’re thinking of. A wide smirk graced his face, his eyes flickering to the back where Sam and Jo sat, the two seemingly now in their own bubble as they spoke. Dean gently bumped Y/N on her knee.

Y/N looked over at Dean in puzzlement, confused as to why he was smirking at her. “What?” She asked him. Dean nodded down to her chest, that smirk still plastered on his face. “Nice shirt” Dean mused, pointing out the fact that Y/N was wearing his Led Zeppelin shirt.

Y/N chuckled as she looked down at the shirt she was wearing. It was also one of Dean’s favorites, it was very worn-out and well-loved, but she loved wearing it. “Yeah, well I didn’t do laundry. You know I hate it” She responded teasingly, waving it off but he wasn’t dumb and knew that she stole it.

“Uh-huh” Dean hummed in amusement, seeing right through her excuse. “Sure you didn’t” He added sarcastically. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and shoved his shoulder playfully with her free hand, the other on the steering wheel.

“Whatever. It’s comfy, okay? Sue me” Y/N muttered, trying to change the subject. Dean shook his head with a light snort. The gesture went straight to his head, boasting his ego. He thought she looked unbelievably hot in them, but he was gonna only admit that to himself.

As Y/N drove, the car was filled with laughter, playful banter and casual conversation. Sam and Jo continued to tease each other in the backseat while Dean and Y/N engaged in their own conversation, practically in their own little bubble again. The atmosphere was light and carefree, a nice change of pace from the previous intense and dangerous situation from the prison.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hi beauties!! I hope you guys loved this episode because so far, it was one of my favorite’s to write for this season (Born Under A Bad Sign has a special place in my heart since it was the one I was most excited for🫶)

Now we all know which episode is next *coughs dramatically* I’m so freaking anxious for it gaaahhhhh😩

Can I just say, how I think this was a lot to unpack and how fucking TIRED I am of Dean and Y/N because they’re already acting like a damn couple but won’t ADMIT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER FUCKKKKK. I’M PHYSICALLY ILL BROOOO JESUSSS🥲

Okay, I’m done having my breakdown😭Once again, I hope everyone loved my interpretation of this episode, I’m not gonna lie, I really wanted y/n in prison😔

Tell me what you loved and what you hated about it, don’t be shy! Until the next episode…. *coughs dramatically again*

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

Xoxo

[breelynnxoxoxoxo]

A Morning Walk Will Bless The Whole Day💋💋💋

[targaryenmarvel]

Fallin' All In You (Part 4) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl. 

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 5,945

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

///////////////////////////////////////////////

BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ!

The phone buzzed, calling for your attention for the thousandth time, and you reached for it impatiently only to drop it as quickly at the sight of the contents; only non-important social media notifications, not the text you were anxiously waiting for from Wanda.

Much to your disappointment, your busy schedule left you no time alone with Wanda after the party. Anytime you spent together was with your friend groups. The one time you had a study session, Pietro interrupted before you could finish a paragraph.

Similarly, your increasingly intense soccer practices took up your time as you approached the championship. In the following game, your team made an hour trip for a match, tying 2-to-2. You kept true to your word, scoring on a penalty in the game's last minutes.

Despite your resolve to ask Wanda out, your busy schedule interfered with your plans and ultimately caused you to chicken out. It gave you enough time to dwell on the repercussions dating Wanda would cause in your relationship with Pietro.

Although you were sure she reciprocated your feelings, Pietro's opinion weighed heavily on your next step. Would it be strange if his best friend dated his sister? Undoubtedly, there would be some consequences on your relationship. No brother wants to hear their friends gush over their sister. Moreover, despite his easy-going nature, Pietro had always been overprotective of Wanda, and you were sure you would not be the exception to his threats.

Your brain hurt from all the overthinking; you weren't ready to deal with it. However, that did not mean distancing yourself from Wanda was an option. On the contrary, her proximity quelled the raging storm in your head. For now, you were content in being in her proximity, feeding off her soothing personality.

Which is why the lack of time alone had made you nearly desperate for the brunette. As soon as your schedule settled, you quickly made plans with Wanda to watch Pride & Prejudice. Per your suggestion, you were watching the film at your house to prevent distractions from Pietro. You loved Pietro but wouldn't let him intrude on your time with Wanda. You would be determined to watch this incredibly romantic film with Wanda without interruptions.

You eagerly awaited Wanda's arrival, bouncing around your room, making sure everything was in place. You placed the remaining snacks on the nightstand when your phone buzzed again. This time, the message you had been awaiting arrived.

Wanda: I'm here

You checked your window as Wanda exited her mother's car, and before she could reach the lawn, you raced downstairs, stopping at the front door. You fumbled, straightening out your clothes, and flung open the door, coming face to face with Wanda.

"Hey!" She greeted, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Hi," you replied lower, but not from lack of excitement, instead dazzled by the woman.

You led Wanda inside, taking her to your room as your heart thrummed violently in your chest. You felt exposed, letting her into your personal space, yet not in an unsettling manner. Rather eager to show her more of yourself. Wanda, for her part, appreciated your willingness to allow her into your safe space.

The both of you settled on your bed, shoulders brushing against eachother. Although you have reached a new level of intimacy at the party, you haven't held hands since then, but even so, the proximity felt natural.

Even before the film began, you knew you would be in the same predicament as the theater. It had been difficult to concentrate then, but seeing Wanda so enthralled by the plot, reciting her favorite lines, warmed your heart. Or hearing Darcy declare his affections to Elizabeth when all you wanted was to declare your own, but alas, you weren't as brave as Darcy. Not yet, at least.

You feel you have reached your limit as the film neared the end; Dary reiterates his love for Elizabeth, hoping her feelings have changed. You were a ticking time bomb, overwhelmed with the need to reach out to Wanda as you watched a gleaming tear strolling down her face. You think you see a look of longing, but you're not sure because Wanda unexpectedly lowers her head to your shoulder, causing your heart to jackhammer in your chest and to lose any sense of rationality.

You were a complete mess.

You forced your eyes shut and resisted holding your breath in an effort to calm yourself. You just hoped Wanda didn't notice your tense posture because you would be fucked if she did. You had zero experience with romantic feelings, and having them for your best friend's sister did not make it any easier.

It took you a while to compose yourself entirely, but when you did, you opened your eyes to the ending scene, followed by the credits. Wanda straightened herself and turned to you with a smile, a question burning in her eyes.

"What do you think? Did it meet your expectations?"

You chuckled nervously, running a hand through your hair. "Uh yeah, it was uh- it was really good," you lied, knowing damn well it was the last thing on your mind.

Wanda smirked with a raised eyebrow, "Really? You seem hesitant."

"No! It's just that it's different from what I usually watch. But honestly, I did enjoy it. Easily one of my favorite movie sessions," you assured her, this time telling her the truth. You did enjoy your time, but only because she was there.

"Well then, I'm glad you liked it. It's one of my favorites. Now that we're friends, we can have movie nights."

You nodded eagerly at her suggestion, reassuringly placing your hand on her knee, "I would love that."

She beamed at you, placing her own hand over your own. As your gazes interlocked, your resistance wore thin, even more so than before.

Only when a thunderous boom resounded in the distance, the two of you looked away, jumping in place. Neither of you had noticed the drizzle that had begun while the film played. Wanda had been too entrapped in the film, and you in her to pay any care.

"Why don't I take you home before it worsens. We can do the essay another day," you suggest.

"No, I don't think it will last. Let's do it right now so we don't have homework for the weekend."

You obliged, and you began working on the writing portion of the assignment. However, it wasn't long before Wanda started to regret not accepting your suggestion. The steady drizzle transformed into pouring rain, and the thunder had only gotten closer with each clash as bright flashes illuminated the sky. The strong winds clashed against the house, and it groaned in protest.

One look at the weather page, and you knew you were wrong. It wasn't a quick storm; it would rain bricks the entire night.

You knew you couldn't drive Wanda home in those conditions, and you would hate to bother anyone else when there was a simple solution. You just needed the courage to voice your thoughts.

"You know, uh, it's only going to get worse out there," you hesitated momentarily, aimlessly flipping through your notebook, "I was thinking that maybe you should stay the night."

"Oh," her surprised tone caused you to raise your gaze at her, gasping like a fish out of water, "I appreciate the offer, Y/N, but I wouldn't want to bother."

You chuckled. "Wanda, I promise you, you could never bother me. So come on, stay with me tonight," you pleaded, giving her the best puppy dog eyes you could manage.

Wanda remained unconvinced, but another deafening rumble resolved any hesitation as she surrendered to your pleas.

You grinned, pleased with yourself. "Perfect. The guest room is being renovated, so you can take my bed. I can sleep on the floor," you offered, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"How about you stay on your bed, and I'll sleep on the floor," Wanda countered decisively, but you weren't willing to give up.

"Then, we'll both sleep on the floor."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, unamused at your idiotic suggestion, and shook her head, "In that case, we can both sleep on the bed. It's big enough."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of sharing a bed with Wanda. "You sure?" She nodded. "Alright, I'll have my mom call your mom."

Before going to bed, you lent Wanda some comfortable clothing. You thought she looked incredible, even in your old baggy t-shirt and shorts, a sight for sore eyes. Truthfully, you hadn't considered the entire thing through because even after the room was engulfed with darkness and you had said your goodnights, her emanating warmth beside you made your stomach flutter. You could tell Wanda had fallen asleep by her peaceful rhythmic breathing. You recall her telling you she slept best with the pitter-patter lulling her into the dream world.

In any other instance, you would have fallen into bed like a rock, but now, all you could focus on was the brunette. Wanda had started on her side but turned to lay on her back, head tilted slightly so you could see her relaxed expression. You had briefly glimpsed her sleep the day they arrived and were left captivated, yet now you could stare unabashedly at the opinion of others. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated her soft features, and you were entranced by her beauty.

Temptation brewed in the air, and you succumbed without a second thought as you softly brushed the pad of your thumb over her cheek. She looked angelic, you mused as you traced her jawline. Another thunderous clap resonated outside, breaking the spell you had fallen into as you halted your movements. Instant shame flooded your body at your audacious actions. You were such a creep, you thought to yourself as you realized how wrong it all felt.

You dropped your hand and shut your eyes with a shaky sigh, willing yourself to sleep. As you focused on Wanda's breathing, you found the task easier, and it wasn't long before you found rest.

It wasn't until the Sun's burning glare settled on your face that you awakened. Slowly but surely, you regained your senses, realizing a heavyweight was pressed against your chest while your nose was buried in a delicious smell. Gradually, you opened your scrunched eyes only to be met with the image of the brunette-haired girl wrapped around you.

Confusion washed over you, and your hazed mind panicked until you recalled the events of the night before. A wave of heat coursed through your body as you grasped that the girl in your arms was none other than Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda Maximoff is your best friend's sister and the girl you were crushing on.

A part of you was overjoyed with the angelic sight you had awakened to, but the aftermath was what worried you. You were frightened of rousing the sleeping beauty only to face the most awkward situation ever.

Carefully, you began to untangle your bodies, leaving Wanda comfortable. Then, from a safe distance, you took the opportunity to openly admire her angelic features. Your stomach turned at her barely noticeable freckles and slightly ajar lips, and you couldn't contain the dopey smile when she scrunched her nose in her sleep. A beauty unlike any other.

You reached over to brush away a few rebel hair strands over her face but quickly retreated when Wanda shuffled. It was your cue to stop being a creep. You reached for your phone, checked the time, and noticed you had awakened a few minutes earlier than your alarm.

Unwillingly, you got out of bed and prepared for work, ensuring you did not wake Wanda. You had told Wanda you would give her a ride home before work, but seeing her so peaceful changed your plans. You made your way into the kitchen, making breakfast, seeing as your mother wasn't up yet.

In record time, you made pancakes, eggs, and bacon. It wasn't that you were trying to impress Wanda with your cooking skills… okay, maybe you were.

"Morning, sweetie," your mother's voice greeted you. You had already finished your plate and were serving your mothers.

"Morning."

"Where's Wanda?" She questioned, scanning the house.

"She was really tired, so I'm letting her sleep in. Can you take her home when you go to work?"

"Of course, sweetie."

"I left her some food, too. Could you just plate it when she wakes up?" you looked at her pleadingly.

She nodded and gave you that same grin from the other night. Before she could comment, you decided to leave. "Thanks, mom. I'll see you later." You waved goodbye.

You arrived at work at 7:30 am, half an hour before opening, to prepare for the day. Before entering the building, you sent Wanda a message.

Y/N: Morning, Wanda! Sorry for not waking you up. You looked so tired, so I decided to let you sleep in. I asked my mom to drive you home, so don't worry.

Working in a flower shop was fantastic; you mostly took orders and cleaned. The owner, Meredith, was training you on arranging flower assortments, so you came earlier than needed in the mornings. Though you worked 9 long hours, it felt like nothing to you. To you, being around nature's beauty was nearly paradise.

There were a few hours left until your shift ended. You were taking a phone order when you noticed a familiar brunette entering the flower shop. She strolled in curiously, observing the shop and inhaling the delicious flower scents. When she caught you staring, she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, and you had to divert your gaze to avoid stuttering while on the phone call.

When you finish placing the order, the girl is already leaning against the counter, waiting patiently for you to address her.

"What are you doing here? Are you following me?" You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow accusingly.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically, "Always so egotistical. I'm obviously here for the flowers." She waved her hand around to make her point.

"Mhm, sure." You tapped your pen to your chin.

Wanda shook her head with a huff, feigning annoyance. She pursed her lips, taking the pen away from you to set it down. "You weren't there when I woke up this morning." She tapped her fingers on the counter, "Thank you for breakfast, by the way."

"You could've texted if that's what you wanted to say," you teased with a smug smile, loving the blush that covered her cheeks.

"You need to get your ears cleaned, Y/N. I told you I'm here for the flowers. Complementing your cooking was my charity work of the day," Wanda commented offhandedly.

"See, I don't know why you thought you wouldn't fit in with Pietro and me. This is basically all we do, passive-aggressively insult eachother and stuff." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Alright, It's me making fun of Pietro, but I guess it's only fair that I get my turn. It's time for me to be humbled, ya know?"

Wanda stared at you unbelievingly as if you had grown a second head. "Personally, I'm glad I didn't. What if I ended up as stupid as the both of you?" She shuddered at the thought. You decided not to comment, knowing your and Pietro's intelligence was questionable. "When did you start working here?"

"During the summer. I worked Monday through Friday, but now it's only Saturday and Sunday. The shop owner is a family friend, so she had no problem adjusting to my schedule," you tell her, spotting one of your regular customers walk through the door. You motioned to Wanda to wait as you went into the back room to retrieve one of the flower arrangements.

"Good evening, Jenna!" You greeted the older woman enthusiastically. Jenna was one of your favorite customers. Even though she was in her late fifties, she had some of the best adventure stories from when she and her wife traveled the world.

"Evening, Y/N," she returned joyfully, setting a tray on the counter. "Lisa and I made brownies last night. I thought you and Mer would like to have some."

"Well, you thought correct. You know that I love Lisa's baking." You emphasized her partner's name, knowing she did the baking. She rolled her eyes at your comment, finally noticing Wanda, who stood patiently to the side.

"Well, hello, there. Y/N, don't be rude and introduce us."

"Sorry, Jenna, this is Wanda and Wanda, this is Jenna." You motioned to each one as you said their names.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Wanda. Oh, God, I love your boots- actually, I love your everything," Jenna complemented, eyeing Wanda. Jenna was a photographer and probably thought Wanda would be a great model. Of course, you would agree with her.

Wanda bashfully smiled at Jenna. "Likewise, and thank you."

"So are the two of you…?" She dragged on, glancing between both of you.

"Friends!" You and Wanda nearly yelled at the same time. You felt your body burn in embarrassment at the insinuation, and one look at Wanda let you know she felt the same way.

"Mhm, okay," she said with a smirk, sounding like she didn't believe either of you. "It was nice meeting you, Wanda, but I have to go. Y/N my flowers, please." You did as asked, handing her a customized bouquet. "Thank you. See you next week, Y/N. Bye, Wanda." You both watched the woman walk out of the shop.

"That was something," you remarked, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah. You two seem close." Wanda eyes the brownies longingly. You chuckled, taking one of the napkins on the tray and offering one to her. "Thanks."

"Uhm, Jenna comes by every Saturday to buy flowers for Lisa, her wife. It's adorable."

"That is adorable. I wonder what that feels like, getting flowers, you know?" She asked while munching on the brownie. "This tastes amazing."

"Nobody's ever gotten you flowers? Not even that Jarvis guy?" You inquired, ignoring her comment on the brownie. You found it hard to believe that no one had ever given Wanda flowers when she was so beautiful. It was a crime.

With crumbs on the corner of her lips, Wanda shook her head dejectedly, confirming, "No. Why do you look surprised?"

You froze like a deer caught in headlights, startled by the sudden call to your reaction. You started to think you needed to school your features better because everyone could clearly see through you, especially when it pertained to Wanda. But this was by far the worst time for it to happen. You could not admit to Wanda that you thought she was the most gorgeous girl to exist, so instead, you gapped like a fish out of water, racking your brain for an excuse.

"I- Well, you're, you know-"

"No, I don't know, Y/N." She seemed entertained by your loss for words.

"What I meant to say is that you're p-"

Wanda's phone rings, saving you from the embarrassment of your life.

"It's my dad. Just give me a moment." She walked away to answer the call, and you let go of the breath you were holding in.

That was a close one. You needed to make it your goal to stop yourself from getting into a compromising situation. Unfortunately, the intent didn't last long as you got an idea remembering Wanda's sad expression when admitting to having never received flowers.

Going into the backroom, you take the few skills you have as a junior florist to pull together a bouquet of flowers. Two sunflowers to signify your adoration, a few gardenias, and pink camellias. You knew the meaning of each flower, and with a simple search on the internet, so would Wanda. But this was the best way to express your feelings for her without making a fool out of yourself. It also gave you an escape route because you could always say you confused flowers or thought they were aesthetically pleasing, so you decided it didn't matter.

To your luck, Meredith passed by as you gave the bouquet the finishing touches, trying to make it as pleasing to the eye as possible.

"My lessons are paying off. Those look stunning, Y/N. So who's the customer?" She touched the petals of the camellias, admiring the variations.

"I am."

She looked at you with a knowing smile, "The lovely brunette girl you were chatting with earlier?" You groaned, tired of everyone's teasing, already leaving the room with the flowers, only to hear, "Ah, young love."

When you returned to the reception area, Wanda was still on the phone, but she glanced at you from her place, and you rushed to keep the flowers out of her sight. The longer she took, the more nervous you became, beginning to doubt yourself, but before completely discarding the idea, Wanda returned with a playful sigh.

"Apparently, Pietro told Papa I didn't sleep at home last night and forgot to tell him I stayed with you. I swear he did it on purpose."

"He did."

She eyed you suspiciously, noticing your fidgeting. "You seem… tense."

"You know how you told me you've never gotten flowers. So I thought since you know I work at a flower shop, I should do something about that." She looked at you curiously as you reached down and pulled the bouquet out, further baffling her.

"What?"

"These are for you." You timidly offered the bunch of flowers.

"What?" She repeated mindlessly, causing you to giggle.

You took her hand and guided it to the flowers so she could hold them, "I'm giving you flowers, Wanda," You voiced softly without breaking eye contact.

Her eyes ricocheted between the flowers and yours, and her lips hung open, trying to make sense of your words. There was no way she had heard you correctly. Are you trying to prank her? She searched your eyes for any sign that you were mocking her, but all she wound was anxiousness and sincerity. Your emotions were so raw that she could feel her heart swell at your gesture.

"I- Thank you, Y/N. These are beautiful." Her voice was so soft, cracking with emotion, and caused you to shiver in delight. Thankfully, she was too busy shoving her nose into the fragrant plants to notice anything, but you do see the solitary tear that slipped from her eyes. Or you think you do because she is beaming at you the following moment with a bright smile that could replace the Sun. "You know you didn't have to give me flowers to make me feel better."

"I know. I wanted to."

She beamed at you, setting the flowers on the counter and embracing you with force. The same smile remained as she left the store, and you felt reinvigorated by her visit as you went back to work.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You found yourself at the mall with Natasha after a tedious day at school and a canceled soccer practice on Monday. You sat in the food court enjoying the sweet and savory ice cream you had purchased.

"I know," Natasha declared out of the blue, causing you to frown in confusion but continue to eat your ice cream.

"Know what?"

"You, my friend," she pointed her spoon at you, "have a crush on Wanda," she declared teasingly.

Your spoon stopped in mid-air, mouth wide in surprise. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

She tilted her head with an incredulous look. "You're a lovesick puppy whenever you're around her, Y/N. I mean the glances, the smiles, and the game, you holding her hand at the theater, disappearing together at the party, and to top it off, she's sleeping over at your place."

You gawked at the table, unable to look at your friend or speak at all. You thought that none of your friends had noticed your behavior towards Wanda, but Natasha threw it all in your face.

"I'm just saying you've better ask her out soon because you have competition." Your eyes snapped up to her in panic, seeing a smug smile on her lips. You had given her the reaction she was hoping for. There was no more denying your feelings. "Pietro told me she came home all smiley the other day with a bundle of flowers, and she wouldn't say who gave them to her."

A sigh escaped your lips, and your tensed muscles relaxed in relief, knowing there was no one else. You had given Wanda those flowers. It was you who had caused her beaming state, no one else.

"I gave her the flowers," you admitted, looking down with flushed cheeks.

"You little shit," Natasha chuckled. "You're really in love with her, aren't you?"

"In love? I don't- I don't know. I just know I really like her." Truthfully, you hadn't considered being in love with Wanda; romantic feelings were new to you after all.

"What's important is that you have feelings for her, Y/N, and you need to do something soon. Wanda is a gorgeous girl, and someone else might beat you to the punch." You knew she was right, but fear of the unknown grasped at your heart, locking in your feelings. Thinking of your moments together, you knew it was worth the risk.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your conversation with Natasha from the previous day replayed in your head the entire day. The thoughts were so loud that they distracted you from school and during soccer practice. All the deep thought had led you to a resolution. You couldn't wait any longer and risk losing Wanda for fear. You would talk to Pietro and go from there. This is why you were headed to the Maximoff household after Pietro invited you to play video games. Arriving, you noticed the twin's newly gifted car was gone, and you deducted Wanda went out. It would just be you and Pietro.

You anxiously knocked on the door, mentally preparing yourself to confess to Pietro, but it wasn't Pietro with whom you came face to face as the door opened.

"Oh, hey, Wanda," you greeted, confused.

"Y/N." She moved to the side so you could come in.

"Is Pietro here?"

"You just missed him. He said he was going to the store and wouldn't be gone long."

"Oh, do you mind if I wait for him here?"

You headed for the couch, but Wanda's hand stopped you. "Come on. You can wait for him in my room." She pulled you by your arm into said room.

Wanda sat on her bed and motioned for you to join her, so you did. Soft, low music filled the room as she carefully moved her pencil through the sketchbook page.

"What are you doing?" You asked, fumbling with your fingers in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

"Sketching," she replied without looking at you, continuing her drawing.

"Don't stop on my account." You lowered yourself to lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling. You remained in that position for a few seconds before tilting your head slightly to observe Wanda. Her beautiful face contorted in concentration as her green eyes narrowed and her lips pursed adorably. Your stomach fluttered, lips quivering as the words you so badly wanted to utter rested on the tip of your tongue. Waiting for a moment of frailty to penetrate your carefully constructed defenses.

Her pencil danced elegantly across the page, creating what you assumed was a graceful image. You were thoroughly entranced by anything she did.

"You're staring," Wanda commented, unmoving from her position, an amused smile on her face.

You flushed, lifting your gaze to the ceiling once again, "I wasn't staring at you. I was," you dragged, trying to think of an excuse," trying to guess what you were drawing." You cringed at your poor excuse.

"Sure, Y/N."

You shut your eyes, grinding your teeth, resisting the urge to resume your previous activity, afraid of screwing up your plan of talking to Pietro first. You don't know how long you laid there, only that the fatigue of the day's activities was settling in your body, and you knew you should probably head home. However, it was more of a challenge as Wanda's soft humming and sweet, delicate perfume engulfed you in a soothing and safe bubble, lulling you to sleep as your eyelids grew heavier and your breathing deepened.

Wanda was too engrossed to notice you had fallen unconscious until a loud sigh left your lips, drawing her gaze to your figure. Forest green eyes gently take in your peaceful features, lingering on your slightly parted lips, with tenderness taking root in her heart. The feeling contrasted with the nervousness she had felt sharing your bed the other night. Though this was different, Wanda reasoned. She had no other choice. On the other hand, you could have easily left home but instead decided to reveal your most vulnerable state to her. Maybe she was overthinking the situation, and you were too tired to leave, but regardless of the reason, Wanda couldn't help the smile that overtook her lips.

It was instinctive when her slender fingers flipped to a blank page with newfound inspiration guiding the elegant movements of her hand. The goal: to preserve the heartwarming scene bestowed upon her beyond a mere flawed memory. It was one of those scenes you encountered, and you knew you had to capture its beauty physically. It was effortless as she meticulously contoured the lines and curves of your figure, using extra care when etching your serene expression.

It's Wanda's blaring ringtone that awakened you with a start. Wanda hastily closed her sketchbook, answering her phone, as you stretched with a yawn, still lying down.

"Hey, Mom. Oh, yeah, let me check."

You watched as they spoke before Wanda got out of bed and left you alone in the room. You groaned, rubbing your eyes, sitting up afterward to check the time. You had been asleep for about nearly an hour. You guessed Pietro hadn't arrived because Wanda didn't wake you from your slumber. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at the boy who had probably run into a girl.

Your eyes wandered aimlessly around her room before landing on her sketchbook. You recalled how fully engaged Wanda had been while drawing and grew curious about what she had been working on. Wanda wouldn't mind if you looked through, right? You thought, biting your lips before grabbing the sketchbook. Even though you and Wanda had art class together, you were fascinated by her handiwork as you flipped through various pages. However, that fascination converted to shock and confusion as you turned to a particular page.

It was a beautifully detailed sketch of the upper half of a sleeping person. Despite at how marveling the drawing was, what shocked you was the face because it was just any face. It was your face. You scrunched your eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening. You vaguely remembered how quickly Wanda had closed the sketchbook when you had awoken from the ringing, and you deducted it was to prevent you from seeing the drawing.

You were still lost in your thoughts when the bedroom door opened. Wanda didn't immediately see you since she was looking down, but when she did, she stopped short, noticing her sketchbook and your expression.

She stood frozen as you stood from the bed, walking towards her and offering the sketchbook with a questioning smile. Wanda swallowed dryly before taking the sketchbook and confirming her worst suspicion you had seen the drawing.

"Y/N I- I don't was just-" She stumbled over her words, avoiding your eyes as she played with her hands. "Oh, God. I swear it's not what it seems like. Okay, maybe it is," She rambles adorably, crimson flooding her face.

You no longer care about the drawing, nor are you smiling; the exigent longing bubbling in your chest was all you could dwell on. With each passing second, it grew in size and strength until your walls could no longer remain intact. Your breathing was heavy with anticipation as your eyes glanced at Wanda's stuttering, plump pink lips before you abruptly launched forward, taking hold of her cheeks and crashing your lips onto Wanda's. Screw Pietro.

Wanda's eyes bulged, gasping against your unmoving but firm lips. You savored the feeling of her soft, gentle lips and the sweet scent that could only be hers. At that moment, you wished to spend the rest of your life kissing Wanda.

Kissing Wanda? Your eyes widened at the realization. Holy shit, you were kissing Wanda. You quickly drew away and lowered your hands as if you were burned by her skin. Knit brows adorned your face as your lips were left ajar, mortified by what you had done. It only intensified as Wanda remained frozen, and you deducted your assumptions about her feelings for you were wrong. "I-I'm so sorry, Wanda. I shouldn't have done that. I should-I should leave."

It was as if Wanda's mind had detached from her body when your lips met hers. Her mind swirled in repressed fantasies that had started the day she met you in the playground. Fantasies where you were the valiant hero who protected her from anyone who dared harm her, but that was before she grew and realized her feelings were more profound. Those childish dreams converted to ones where you would hold hands and share kisses, but shame came with age. Not of her sexuality, but for having these feelings for her brother's best friend, who would never feel the same way; she tried to repress those feelings. But here you were, eagerly kissing her.

It was a slow process, but Wanda's thoughts had cleared by the time you announced you should leave as you walked to the door. She grabbed your arm, pulled you to her, and kissed you with force, hands lifting to cup your jaw. It only took you a second to respond, moving your hands to hold her waist while you closed your eyes. Your lips moved gently and synchronously against eachother before Wanda's tongue ran over your lower lip, asking for passage, and you gladly granted it. Your tongues danced together, and you sighed in pleasure.

You only separated from each other when your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Wanda rested her forehead on yours as you both heaved for oxygen. Wanda's shining green eyes had a loving look when you opened your own, and you couldn't resist leaning forward to peck her lips as her thumbs rubbed at your cheeks.

Your hand raised to brush a few rebel strands of hair behind her ear, your hand lingering on her cheek with your thumb gently swiping her lower lip, her just watching your movements. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

She chuckled, "I think it's the other way around," she teased, "I've had a crush on you since we were kids."

You frowned incredulously, recalling your childhood moments with Wanda, and suddenly her behavior made sense. The reason she avoided you and was shy when you were around.

With a smile brighter than the Sun, you asked the question you'd been dying to speak, "Will you go out on a date with me?"

"I would love to," she answered, leaning to give you another kiss.

Pietro didn't return anytime soon, and you couldn't be more grateful, seeing as you spent the time trading kisses with Wanda and cuddling on her bed.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

A/N: They finally kissed guys!!!! What do you all think? Should the wait have been longer? Honestly, slow burn kills me cause' I needed them to kiss in part two. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

[world-of-aus]

Safe With Me

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x MobDaughter!Reader

Warnings: hints of previous domestic abuse (very small hints), angsty, protective bucky (he's a warning folks).

Author's Note: I've been wanting bodyguard!bucky for a hot minute and here is part one of a two part installment. He's my grumpy turned sunshine I never new I needed till now! I also want to thank @winterwitch-trash for constantly sending me into the afterlife with her inspirations for this piece. Happy Readings Buns <3

Boisterous laughter fills your ears as you step a heeled foot into the extravagant hall. The room is filled with business suits and dazzling dresses.

His hand tap yours where it’s wrapped tightly around his bicep, your gaze meets his, a warm reassuring smile on his lips. A tilt to your head and he’s leading you further into the room, pulling you into the pool of suits and dresses, the laughter all consuming as he pulls you further in to the masses.

You slip into your role as he guides you, a warm pleasant smile on your lips, a tilt to your head as you greet the bigheaded business suit and his dazzling dress. He leads the two of you till your face to face with your father and his company. The men of the group can barely spare you a glance much less a proper greeting as they take to the man who holds you on his arm. You find the women are kinder acknowledging your presence with a nod of their head, it was the most you had found they were allowed to do at these events.

Caught up in a conversation your father takes the time to acknowledge you, his voice low as he leans in. “You are to stay with him at all times tonight, where you go, he goes, is that understood?” You want to ask if he’s here, there’s no other reason your dad would abide you caution if there wasn’t a threat involved. He leans back, eyes trained on yours, “do as I say.” A finality to his somewhat cryptic statement. You offer a tight-lipped nod, watching as he throws himself into the conversation.

Unlike the other women of the group, you don’t grow bored, your nerves on edge as you glance 9around the hall. Eyes scanning the business suits for him, you knew he was here. He had been set to take over the business when you hung off his arm, you had no doubt with the time that passed that he had already claimed the title.

So intent on finding his eyes you don’t feel Bucky lean in till he’s whispering into your ear, “let’s go dance.” He breaks your trance, head tilting to look at him but he’s turned to your fathers group dismissing the two of you with a promise to the men to grab a drink later. Your father catches him before he can whisk the two of you off, whispering something into his ear, it’s when the two separate eye to eye that you catch your fathers look, it was enough for you.

With a pat to Bucky’s arm, he sends the two of you off, your grip on his bicep tightening as you part through the group. His hand lays over yours squeezing, thumb brushing over your skin soothing. Bucky had grown so attune to you over the months, learning to read you better than most in your life could. There was nothing you could hide from the broad-shouldered brunette, not anymore.

You break onto the dance floor, his body turning into yours as he molds you to him, your hand clasped tightly in his. It’s quiet for a moment between you two as you let him take the lead, body pressing further into his as he takes you around the floor. He leans into you, “you’re safe with me, he’ll never lay another hand on you as long as I’m around.”

You want to ask him how long that looks like, want to ask him about the contract your father drew up and had him sign that fateful morning in his office months ago. You had no part in it despite it being drawn up for you and your safety. “What troubles you,” he breathes into your hair.

You lean into the motion, “you won’t be able to keep me safe forever,” your murmur into the black velvet of his suit. “What will happen when the contract you signed with my father is up? Surely there will be other jobs needing you, once your time here is done.” Your feet slow, the hand that rests on your back squeezes, “you need not worry about that, to worry about what your future holds, stay here in the present with me.”

You can’t help but to think of the future; a future without Bucky Barnes in it. He wraps you closer, your head finding his shoulder as he sways the two of you amongst the mass. The question of how long you had left with him sitting on your tongue. You don’t ask, not wanting to break the moment you share with ‘what ifs’. You wondered if you had held your walls as high as Bucky had when you were first introduced to him all those months ago if you might have saved your heart from the pain that would come when his time was up.

The hand that held yours finds your cheek, beckoning you from your spot on his shoulder. Your eyes find his, the question wants to fall of your tongue but a voice that has your blood running cold stops it altogether. Bucky’s form goes rigid when you freeze in his arms, fear clouding your features at the man that has appeared from the masses behind you.

“For claiming to be so devoted you move on rather quick, petal,” he spits.

Your eyes slip shut, breathing in deep as you steel yourself, you would not let yourself live in fear over this man. It’s what he wanted, wanting to keep you down when you were already in the dirt. You had lived it enough when you were with him, no more would you allow him to have you cowering before him. Enough was enough. There would be a time where the man that held you, the man who made you feel safe wouldn’t be there, and you needed to be ready to face things alone. Steeling yourself, you compose your features, throwing on a smile as you turn on your heel Bucky’s hand still on you offering you a sense of comfort as you turn to face them.

Your stomach drops at the sight, but your smile remains, “what a pleasant surprise Rumlow,” you greet, your eyes flicking over to his mistress, the one he had in your bed far too many times to count. “Elizabeth, you look radiant, you’re glowing,” you add as you allow your eyes to drift down to her swollen belly. It would have only been a matter of time before she fell pregnant with his child, you’re just glad it hadn’t happened with you there.

“Not sure we can say the same for you,” Rumlow throws in smugly. He wants a fight, wants you to bark back so he can find a way to put you in your place, like he did when you were under him. Bucky can sense his intentions as he presses into you, the hand that laid at your back now curled into a fist.

“Well surely you can’t say the same, because we’re not the same.”

Despite the lack of venom in your tone, Rumlow bites, “He’ll grow tired of you as well,” he murmurs eyes flickering to Bucky, “don’t lock yourself down with this one pal,” he finds your eyes again, “she isn’t worth it.” Bucky should have stepped in sooner but the feel of you shaking form in his arms draws the line. “Rumlow is it?” he questions as he steps forward, his form shadowing yours as he puts himself between you and the man you once called your fiancé “listen pal I don’t appreciate the way you’ve been talking down to my girl, now I’ve tried to respect her wishes of being on my best behavior tonight but I think it’d be best if you and your partner here walked away now, were trying to enjoy ourselves, surely there are others around that you can get your ego stroked with that isn’t mine.”

Rumlow looks visibly ticked by Bucky, his hand clenched at his side, but he knew better than to start anything tonight, no one ever dared to start a fight on a night like this. The dark haired brunette clears his throat as he steps forward towards you. No regard for Bucky he gets as close as he can voice low and menacing as he speaks directly at you, “your daddy’s little guard dog can’t protect you forever,” he steps back smirk on his lips as he takes the two of you in, “pleasure seeing the two of you, and y/n ill see you soon.” he says over his shoulder as he walks past the two of you.

Bucky’s eyes follow the man as he goes but your frozen on his words, heart pounding in your chest, a ringing in your ears that screams its all too much. You suck in a shaky breath, the need to run all but suffocating, you’re slipping from Buckys hold as you move forward, smile pressed on your lips despite the dread consuming you whole. You squeeze through the business suit and dazzling dress, slipping your way through the crowd the exit at the forefront of your mind.

His voice is a light buzz in your ear but you can hear him call for you, telling you to wait, slow down, but your feet won’t allow it, your racing heart making it harder to breathe the longer you’re in here. You make it out past the grand doors, feet barely just meeting the edge of the first stair before you’re being pulled back into a broad chest. His hands are on you, turning you in his hold muffling the first cry that tears from your lips. “It’s okay,” he breathes into your hair, “I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.”

Your fingers clutch at the lapels of his suit, “he’s never going to stop, and you won’t be here forever, I – I can’t do this anymore, I'm not strong enough to do this."

Bucky prays you don’t feel the way he tenses up at your words, the way his heart skips a beat, he pulls you into his arms tighter, lips finding your head, “you're stronger than anyone I've ever had the privilege of working under y/n, we're going to figure this out, I've got you, I promise you I've got you." You want to scream into the night air but settle on the choked sob that makes it past your lips instead.

"It's just so unfair," you whisper into his jacket. You weren't sure what you found more unfair though.

The situation with Rumlow, or your newfound situation with Bucky.

[wildlavendermoon]

Just a summer thing

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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pairing. Ethan Landry x fem!reader

warnings. Fluff, swearing, mention of blood

summary. You decide to spend your summer as a camp counselor and meet another camp counselor Ethan Landry whom you quickly catch interest in and so does he

a/n. The characters are from the Scream universe but there's no Ghostface involved. I'm actually thinking about doing another part let me know what you think this is the first fic I'm publishing here! please do not repost.

Pt2 here

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was just the beginning of the summer, and you could still feel the heat slowly rising. It was your first summer being a camp counselor at Camp Moondale you didn’t know anybody; it was a new experience, and you hoped to get out of your comfort zone.

As the scent of wood lingers in the air, you take in your surroundings, which you will become familiar with over the next month.

The room was packed with other counselors. You sat by the window, listening attentively to a tall guy with blue eyes and dark hair. He welcomes everyone and explains the rules of the camp, his face is very serious, but he has a charming side that doesn’t make him cold or irritating.

A girl with black hair and freckles is sitting next to a tall muscular guy with a big smile, and a girl with short curly hair looks at him disappointed.

Then your eyes meet with brown eyes; he has a little smile and curly brown hair. You look at him for a few seconds, then look away, flustered. Your attention goes back to the head counselor, whose name is AJ

“Well, if you don't have questions, we can move on and put you in your assigned cabin”

You soon learn you will be in the squirrel cabin with the two girls you saw earlier. The brunette comes up to you with a big smile 

“Hi, I'm Tara It's nice to meet you and this is Mindy” she points to the taller girl next to her 

“Hey, I hope you don't snore or anything, right?”

A small chuckle comes out of your mouth 

“No worries, I don't. I'm y/n, by the way”

Mindy smiles at you 

“Is this your first time here ?”

“Yeah actually... I’ve never done this before”

Tara looks at you with a reassuring smile 

“It’s quite fun here; it's going to be a great summer, trust me!”

Mindy has one hand on her hip with a little grin. “I hate to admit it, but it's not that horrible, and we come back every year with my twin brother.” She points at the tall, muscular guy with a varsity jacket; he moves toward you with a dazzling smile and says,

“Hey, I'm Chad, and this is my roommate Ethan!”

You smile back at him and see the guy with whom you exchanged looks earlier behind him. Mindy puts a hand on your shoulder.

“This is y/n she's at our cabin, and she's our new friend”

Ethan flashes a smile and simply says hi. His eyes are dark, but you could easily lose yourself in them for hours. He has a defined jawline, and overall, he is very attractive. Your heart skips a beat the second he looks toward you.

Then Tara interrupts you in your daydreaming: “We better get going to our cabin now; see you later, boys!”

Tara grabs your arm, and you three walk to the cabin. You unpack your bags and talk with the girls, trying to get to know each other.

As the sun sets and the night breeze hits your neck, you walk towards the campfire, where all the camp counselors are. You can hear some laughter and fire crackling in the distance. You sit next to Mindy and, a girl with black hair with some blond streaks. Furthermore, you look up and see Ethan sitting in front of you, talking to Chad, as the fire warms your face. You haven't had the chance to talk to him yet; all the girls have told you is that he is a big horror movie fan, and he is a bit shy.

Your conversation with Mindy gets more joyful and you get to know Anika the girl next to you, but you can't help yourself with some glances at Ethan. Feeling the tension between Anika and Mindy you decide to leave them alone, you see Tara and Chad cuddling up and decide to approach the fire.

As you look in the distance you hear footsteps behind you, Ethan emerges and sits next to you you look up at him

“What are you doing all alone?” he asks

“I think Mindy and this girl are flirting with each other and I didn't want to interrupt anything”

“Yeah I kinda feel like the third wheel when Chad and Tara are together”

You chuckle softly

“How long have you guys known each other?”

“Um It’s been less than three years I think, I moved in with Chad and I've been part of the group ever since”

“And you go to this camp every summer?”

“Yes basically it's just really cool to go here together”

“Well it's cute that you have each other”

He looks at you more attentively

“Why did you decide to go here?”

“I just needed something new…I just wanted to change my mind you know?”

He nods and doesn't insist on it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Besides this place is very cute it’s kind of refreshing”

“Doesn’t it scare you the woods?”

“Well as long as Jason doesn’t crawl from them I’m good” you chuckle and he looks at you surprised

“Wait you like horror films?”

“Guilty! It’s my nerdy side”

“Well, I’m a pretty big nerd when it comes to horror movies too!”

You smile at him glad that you could make a conversation with him after dying to talk to him all day.

You and Ethan talked about horror movies all night until you went back to your cabin. You waved goodnight to him before going to sleep, unable to stop smiling about the day.

The first few days were pretty relaxed, with activities around the camp with the kids and getting to know everyone better. You often talked to Ethan late at night.

The heat today was intense, making your skin feel like it was melting. You smelled like sweat and sunscreen. Naturally, everyone decided to freshen up and go swim in the lake. The kids were excited, and you couldn't hide your excitement either. You notice Chad playfully fighting with Tara in the distance. As you turn your head, you catch a glimpse of Ethan in his swimsuit and shirtless. You slowly take in his ripped physique, unable to look away from his abs. The temperature seems to rise suddenly, and then he notices you and smiles. The group starts heading into the water, and you decide to join them.

Everyone was enjoying the moment and laughing playing games in the water, and then you were alone with just Anika

“You know Ethan was checking you out!” she says playfully

You open your mouth a little surprised“No you're lying!”

“I'm not! He can't stop looking at you” playing with her eyebrows

“Really?” you smirk

“I can assure you he only got eyes for you”

She points with her head behind you

You look behind you and see Ethan with Chad and you catch him looking at you

“What should I do?” you say to Anika

“Maybe you should try a move on him and see how he reacts. But be subtle not too forward!”

“I will try that thanks Ani”

You swim back to the group but it's just you Ethan as the two couples go do their own thing.

“It's just me and you again!”

“Yes, are we like the 5th and 6th wheel?” you laugh

“Do you not like spending time with me y/n?” he teases

“It’s like torture you can't even imagine!” you tease him

He acts offended faking a pout

“Oh really?”

You nod and he decides to splash you

You're surprised at first but then attack him back as you two act like kids playing in the water.

After a few minutes, you say “I'm thirsty I'm going to get some soda you want some?”

“Sure let’s go!”

Ethan gets out of the water first picking a soda from the cooler, as you get on the ladder you feel something scratching on your knee you hiss in pain.

Chad notices it and sees blood on your knee

“Are you okay? shit your bleeding” he helps you out picking you up, Ethan rapidly makes his way to you

“What happened? Are you hurt ?”

As you look at your bleeding knee in pain you say “fuck I think a nail from the ladder scratch me or something”

“You are bleeding a lot let me take you to the nursery” he puts a towel on you and hands you your shirt.

“Let me help you” he puts his arms around you helping you walk to the nurse office of the camp.

You walk into the quiet room and sit on the bed, putting on your shirt and feeling the cold air. Ethan looks around for something to clean you up with. You glance at Ethan and appreciate how caring he is, taking care of you. He sits in front of you, applying antiseptic on a cotton ball and gently approaching your wound.

"Thankfully, it doesn't look too severe, there's just a lot of blood," he says. You flinch in pain as the antiseptic stings your wound. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Not your fault, Ethan," you reply. You gaze down at him, admiring him. He is still shirtless, and you notice his freckles and moles spread all over his chest.

"You've got moles and freckles everywhere," you gently trace them. He looks up at you, smiling, and you can't help but admire his brown eyes. "Your eyes have a little bit of yellow in them, it's almost golden in the sun," you say. Ethan's cheeks blushed a little, and you could swear you heard his heart pounding. After he finishes cleaning the wound, he puts a band-aid on it, gently caressing your knee.

“Why do you have so many bruises?" he asks.

"I'm a little clumsy," you laugh.

"I see that," he chuckles softly. He is still caressing your knee, and with his other hand, he puts a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your hair is still wet, and his touch is warm.

Your stomach is all in knots as you look into each other's eyes, feeling the tension between you and Ethan, wanting to taste him.

It has to be broken. Suddenly, Ethan traces your lips with his thumb; he is dangerously approaching them now, just a few centimeters between the two of you.

Your lips meet his, your right hand is in his hair, and your left one is grazing his jaw, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

His hand is still on your knee, caressing it gently. As the kiss deepens, he puts his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a gasp, which allows him to push his tongue inside your mouth.

He pulls you closer until you are sitting on his lap, kissing his neck. He lets out a little whimper as he strokes the sides of your hips.

You stroke his bare chest, feeling his muscles. It is now your turn to whimper as he kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “Feeling better?”

“Much better; thank you, nurse,” you whisper back.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊.

DAY ELEVEN OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

pairing: fallen angel!joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, romance

summary: you and tess go in to dismantle a cult, neither of you were expecting to find a rugged fallen angel being experimented on.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: possessive!joel, piv, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, violence

a/n: this was heavily inspired by miyazaki's on your mark music video! also we're almost add the end babes, only one more to go, isn't that exciting!

Ash sticks to your skin. The air is warm and damp, the scent of it churning your stomach and making you want to vomit. You observe the city as the aircraft inch closer to a particularly fancy and tall building. Purple and blue neons bleed into the night sky, blurring the sight of the stars. Both you and Tess are standing at the edge of the opening, ready to make the jump down below. You look at her and she nods with a fleeting smile. 

“Let’s get these fuckers,” she says, her voice modulated as it echoes in your earpiece. “See you on the other side.” 

She extends a fist and with your heart still beating madly in your chest, you bump it. Without speaking, she counts down, one finger going down at a time.  Your gaze flits between the building and her hand, sweat building at your temples and sliding down your spine. You’ve heard of this place before. A religious cult famous for abducting people and in some extreme cases experimenting on them if they refused to follow the leader’s guidance. 

The last finger goes down and you both jump in unison. 

Your visor comes down, blocking the vicious wind from cutting your skin. Tess is slightly ahead of you, her helmet also fully materializing around her skull, brunette hair fluttering at her neck. The mission was simple. Go in and arrest who you can find, shoot those who resist. 

The two of you touch down on the rooftop of the target building and quickly pull out your weapons. Tess leads the way as you both enter the building through a concealed access point. The interior pulses with a neon-laden atmosphere, where every corner is bathed in vibrant, shifting hues. Holographic information displays punctuate the surroundings, casting an ever-changing cascade of colors across the sleek, polished surfaces. 

You and Tess navigate through the dimly lit corridors, guided by the faint hum of machinery and the eerie whispers of cult members echoing through the halls. The air is thick with tension, and every step feels like a potential trap. It almost feels like a labyrinth with the way the halls constantly turn and twist, you faintly hear Tess cursing from underneath her visor. You share her sentiment. 

Moving deeper into the building, you finally encounter the cult's followers. They wear a strange blend of traditional robes and cybernetic enhancements, their faces obscured by eerie masks that display holographic symbols and patterns. 

The confrontation escalates quickly. They don’t even have any weapons on them yet they jump you, before you can start shooting one of them gets the better of you and knocks you to the floor. Tess is there in an instant, a laser blade to the throat is all it takes for the person to go limp on top of you. 

The room erupts in chaos but it doesn’t mean much to either you or Tess. This wasn’t your first mission together, and the two of you had adapted a fighting style that complimented each other’s strengths. The deafening blasts of energy illuminate the room with dazzling bursts of color. Bodies fall, and the cult's resistance begins to crumble. 

You press on, determined to reach the heart of this twisted cult. Along the way, you discover hidden chambers filled with bizarre experiments and technology. You take a mental note to come back later on and investigate. The air is thick with the smell of chemicals and the unsettling hum of machinery. Tess makes a sharp turn and you follow, entering a dim room. More cult members attack you, they look like scientists, they fall just as easily as the rest.

“What the hell is this place?” Tess mutters, walking ahead and looking around. A blue hue coats the entirety of the room, the sound of liquids making up for most of the background noise. 

You notice a table right in the middle and without a second thought you head towards it, ignoring Tess’s warnings to be careful. Something draws you to it. To him. Your pulse quickens as you notice a man lying on top of the metal surface, eyes closed, seemingly sleeping. His chest is bare, the lower half of his body covered with a thin, dark pair of sweatpants. 

He’s beautiful. Rugged features scorned with cuts and bruises, but still stunning. His hair is a mess, lips chapped. He’s barely breathing, a sudden worry surrounds your heart, turns your stomach sour. 

“Hey, check it out,” Tess says, walking around the table. Her hand moves over a lifeless wing, feathered and dark as night. You hold your breath, eyes going wide. “Do you think these are real?” 

You don’t touch the wings, feeling like it might be disrespectful to the handsome man. You eye them warily and think about all the things these maniacs must’ve done to him. “They look real to me,” you murmur. “What should we do?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“If we bring him with us surely the government will experiment on him too,” you point out. “He’s been through enough.” 

Tess drops the wing and raises an eyebrow, “You in love with him or something?” she shakes her head. “We really need to find you some good dick.” 

“That’s not what this is,” you hiss, cheeks burning up. “You know it’s not right. He can stay at my place.” 

“And you think they won’t come looking for him?” 

“They can’t look for something they don’t know that exists.” 

Tess contemplates your words for a moment and you worry this might be where she draws the line. Her kind eyes flit between you and the half-naked man, then her shoulders drop, yielding, she lifts her hands. 

“Fine, let’s get this hunk of meat out of here.” 

However, neither you nor Tess had calculated how heavy he would be. 

“Holy fuck, how much does he weigh?” Tess groans, holding him by the ankles. You had your hands tucked under his armpits, barely keeping him from dropping to the steel ground. 

“Maybe the wings add to it,” you answer, short of breath. Using the strength from your knees, you jerk him up so your arms can get a better grip. Sweat beads at your temples and slides down your cheeks. “Fuck—” 

“He’s gonna suck your fridge dry,” Tess huffs. “All the gadgets in the world and not one to carry a heavy. . . what is he? A damn bird?” she shook her head. “I don’t think I wanna know.” 

“If you could shut up for two seconds,” you say, gasping for air. “This might be easier. Besides, we’re at the door.” 

“Oh fuck, we actually are.” 

Tess manages to kick it open and you both peer down the rooftop, you hold on to the unconscious man tighter, scared he might fall. 

“What now?” you shout from over the wind. 

“Now,” Tess says, her gaze meeting yours, she flashes you a smirk. “We jump.” 

Despite the multiple rules you’ve broken by taking in Joel—a fallen angel he’d explained when he woke up, much to your disbelief— to your home a week ago, your mornings start surprisingly calm. You have a small apartment and as you head to the kitchen, you watch the trickles of the morning light warming the floors. You enjoy these silent hours in the city. No bright neon light burning your eyes, no constant buzz of huge billboards humming in your ears; just the sun, the soft sound of birds chirping and soft wind carrying notes of clattering dishes. 

You fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove, turning the flame on to let it slowly come to a boil. While waiting, you reach for your favorite coffee mug, the one with a chip on the handle that you can't bear to replace. As you retrieve the mocha pot from the cabinet, you notice a slight, fleeting shadow out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head to see Joel standing in the doorway, his wings tucked neatly against his back. He hadn’t been able to open his wings fully yet, his wounds too deep to heal. 

A sudden anger simmers in your soul. The things he must’ve endured and all for what? For a bunch of people to feel good about themselves? For the to find out how to be immortal? All of it was absolute bullshit. 

You pull out another mug. 

His dark eyes meet yours and you swallow, a shudder rolling down your spine, “Good morning,” you choke out, pouring some ground coffee into the mocha pot's filter basket and assembling the pot. The soothing sound of the kettle on the stove fills the room as you watch Joel walk closer, his steps nearly soundless. 

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, standing right behind you. His presence frying your nerves and making your hands tremble. “What’s that?” 

“Coffee,” you answer. You place it on the stove and turn on the heat. “I’m making you some too. You can try it,” then you turn, eyes going wide upon noticing just how close he is. His eyes bore into yours, observing your soul and every inch of your face. Your eyes trace the bridge of his nose and linger on his lips; so lush. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip entices you to come closer but you hold your ground. “Are you hungry?” 

He nods, eyes untrusting. 

“Okay,” you say slowly. “I’ll make us breakfast. How are your wings feeling?” 

He licks his lips, “Better.” 

You nod and look towards the fridge, your lips pressed tightly together. He finally backs away, allowing you to prepare an omelet for the both of you.

Joel silently watches as you crack the eggs and mix in the basil, tomato, and cheese.  He watches as you pour two cups of coffee and bring out the plates. He watches as you sit and finally turn to look at him; still standing in the kitchen, watching. . . observing. 

“Come sit,” you say and pull back a second chair. “You watched me prepare it there’s no poison in it promise,” you give him a playful smile and you swear the corners of his lips twitch. 

He sits and picks up his fork, you cut the omelet in half, sliding it over to his plate, “So since you never had coffee before I didn’t put any milk and sugar in it, you can taste it and if it’s too bitter I can add some.” 

Joel picks up the mug, his wings slightly raising in alarm as he sniffs the hot beverage. He raises a brow, eyes meeting yours, “How do you drink yours?” 

“With lots of milk.” 

“I feel like that defeats the purpose,” he closes his eyes and takes a sip. He smacks his lips slowly, eyes fluttering open to give you a look. “Not bad,” he says. “I like how the taste alerts me.” 

“Well,” you answer with a smile. “Don’t have too much of it or you’ll be up all night.” 

“Who says I’m already not?” 

You stiffen at the words, meant to be a playful quip turn real in mere seconds. Joel seems unaware of the sudden pressure forming in your shoulders, around your spine; he bites into his omelet, moaning at the taste—which adds a whole different kind of pressure. . . mostly gathered between your legs.

“Can’t you sleep?” you ask silently, looking down. “Because of. . . what they’ve done.” 

Joel lowers his fork, lifting his gaze in hopes of meeting yours, he furrows his brows upon realizing your downward-looking lips and your eyes that don’t meet his. 

“That’s a small part of it,” he says, the soft authority of his tone bringing your gaze back up. “I remember those moments in bits and pieces, they come and go. . . It’s the fall that still keeps me up at night. ” 

“The fall from. . . heaven?” 

“Yes.” 

And that’s it. He continues to eat, continues to drink until all of it is wiped clean in front of him. 

“Let me clean your wounds,” you say and stand up from the table. Joel hadn’t been able to fly at all since you and Tess busted him out of that hellhole. He had been reluctant to treatment but realized quickly that he needed modern medicine if he was going to get better. “I’ll be right back.” 

When you come back you find him sitting on his usual stool. It was high enough so that his wings wouldn’t drag across the floor. He sits silently, eyes like those of a hawk as he watches you place the supplies on the coffee table. You start by delicately peeling off the old bandages, ensuring they don't cause any pain or pluck a feather. The only sign that he feels any discomfort is the rapid pace of his breathing

You find that you enjoy these moments of vulnerability. Some part of you doesn’t want him to go. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, crumbling the old bandages and throwing them to the floor for later cleaning. 

His spine straightens, “For what?” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“You didn’t.” a moment of silence stretches between you before he speaks again. “You saved me.” 

“Tess did too,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips. Those two had been butting heads as soon as Joel woke up. 

“She told me on multiple occasions that she would’ve left me to rot.” 

“That’s how Tess cares.” 

“Humans still confuse me.” 

You snort and begin cleaning the wound, he winces a bit, “We’re not all bad.” 

You’re happy to see that he’s nearly completely healed. His red, wet wounds from before now a tender pink. Your eyes move up to his neck. You’ve always stared at his neck since the very beginning. It reminds you of the columns of old temples that now lay in ruin thanks to the new world. His sun-kissed skin is a temptation, your lips tingling with the need to feel bare skin, wondering if it’s as warm as you thought. 

“I don’t think I should bandage up the wounds anymore, they should breathe,” you murmur, your voice coming out hoarser than you thought. “But still, you need to be careful.” 

Joel doesn’t say a word but his wings twitch as if they can sense your sinful thoughts. Maybe they do. You have no idea how angel powers work, or if he has any. 

He’ll leave soon, you remind yourself. You’ll be alone again. 

You don’t know what it is that guides your hand, but you realize in shock that your fingers start to dance along the exposed skin of his nape. Indeed it is as warm as you thought. You feel the way muscles tense under your touch, hear his heavy breathing. 

Reality comes crashing in and you pull away with a sudden flinch, an apology ready at your lips— 

He’s fast. Inhumanly so. Joel takes a hold of your wrist and pulls you to his lap, you fall sideways with a sharp yelp. The angel doesn’t say a word and tugs your head back, exposing your neck to him. You shudder at the touch of his lips. Whimper at the way he runs his nose down your collarbone. 

“I can smell the arousal on your skin,” he drawls and tastes your skin with the flat of his tongue. “I can taste it too. Such a sinful little thing.” 

“I—I’m—” You’re what? Sorry? You don’t feel sorry. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“You don’t have to. . .” 

Joel snorts, “I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he answers, he grips at your shirt and tugs you down while grinding up, the heft of his cock rubs against the swell of your ass. You both groan at the contact. “You feel that? You feel what you’re doin’ to me?” 

Your heart leaping, you guide his hand to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes flashing with desire, he slips his fingers under the fabric, you shudder at the drag of his fingers between your folds. Joel burrows his face into the crook of your neck, his chest rattling with a growl. 

“So wet,” he musters, the pads of his fingers stroking your throbbing clit. 

“Now you know what you do to me.” 

His wings suddenly stretch out from one side to the other, making him look even larger if possible. Your eyes go wide, lips parting with a soft gasp. You imagine if you stare at them long enough you could see stars. 

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he breathes, nostrils flaring. He pulls his fingers out and holds your waist in an iron grip. You whimper at the loss. “You don’t know me. This ain’t a game.” 

“That’s right I don’t,” you answer. “I only know what I feel. And what I feel, Joel, is something I’ve never felt before. Something that both excites me and makes me want to run and hide because soon enough, I’m going to have to deal with it all on my own. You’ll be gone and I’ll be here, trying to gather the pieces of my bleeding heart.” 

You think you might be imagining it, but his wings become a shield, caging you in. His gaze seems almost broken. Distraught. He mumbles something inaudible. Your brows furrow and you ask him to repeat himself. 

“My wings are healed. I lied to you.” 

You think you misheard him but at the same time you know you hadn’t. You blink rapidly. You don’t understand, how can be healed? 

“You can fly?” 

“I can, sweetheart.” he pulls you closer, your covered nipples grazing against his firm chest. Your breath catches in your throat. “I lied to you because. . . I don’t want to go.” 

“Joel. . .” 

“You still want me?” he asks, cutting you off, voice rueful. “I’m selfish. I get what I want and do anythin’ to make it happen. Why do you think I was cast out? Not exactly one of god’s favorites.” 

You feel his breath on your skin as he speaks. His voice deep, dripping like sweet molasses. You brush your lips together and his chest heaves, his grip on you tightens, his cock throbbing. 

“You’re my favorite,” you whisper. 

The dam breaks. 

You find yourself bent over the low coffee table, the wood creaking under your weight, your cheek smooshed against it. Joel holds your arms behind your back, rutting against your ass like some wild animal in heat. Arousal pools between your legs and you feel a fresh wave of wetness spreading within the threads of your underwear. 

“Do you even know how to fuck?” you ask, hoping to gain some kind of edge despite the obvious difference in strength. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you’d be surprised.” 

He pulls down your sweats and the heft of his cock weighs heavily between your ass cheeks. Slick gathers between your folds. A soft whimper trembles in your throat. You can’t see him but you can imagine him looking down at you, seeing how desperate and needy you are. Joel parts your cheeks and presses forward, his cock gliding between your soaked tighs. He groan rattles in his chest and you feel the bulbous head of his cock stretching your entrance. 

“Oh god. . . Joel. . .” 

A choked-out sound drops from your lips as he wraps his fingers around your throat and pulls you up, it’s harder to breathe in this position, your body bent in a way so that your eyes can meet. He kisses your forehead. 

“Not god,” he says, thrusting forward and filling you to the brim. Your face goes slack, brows pinching with pleasure and a hint of pain. Your moan is loud and long, your eyes still glued to his. You shudder at the intimacy. “It’s just me, sweetheart. No one else. I’m the only one that get’s to fuck this pussy—the only one that gets to see your face like that.” 

You lick your lips and breathe heavily. When you nod, Joel releases you and you fall forward, bracing yourself with your elbows at the very last second. 

“Look at you,” he groans, large hands stroking your cheeks. “Do you even know how soft and warm your insides are?” 

He doesn’t expect an answer as he pulls back, your body is set a flame, pleasure building and winding you up like a doll. Your thighs shake, he just watches you drown in your lust. He’s intrigued, you think, because he just waits with the head of his cock still inside. You wiggle your ass, hoping for him to move, to fuck you senseless. 

You’re reprimanded with a sharp smack to your ass but you welcome the pain, embrace it. 

You can’t see it yet you feel it. The vicious drip of his spit on your stretched-out hole. You shiver and your eyes roll back into your skull, his thumb traces where you two connect, smearing his saliva, “J—Joel, please,” you beg but you know it’s futile. He’s going to take you apart only to piece back together. 

“You still think I don’t know how to fuck?” he hisses, a cruel taunt you didn’t expect. You shake your head and close your eyes. Another smack follows, prompting the clench of your cunt. He groans. 

Joel finally gives you what you want. What you need. 

His pace is brutal, fast and hard, desperate, just like you feel. He knocks the air from your lungs with every thrust, the smack of his hips bruising. Joel has no shame in the voices he makes, he groans, moans and fucks you harder, forcing you to be loud with him. When you let out a particularly high-pitched whimper, he covers your body with his own like a blanket and ruts into you. His wings rustle and shake, the tip of it touching your lips before it moves away. You see bright starts when he grazes upon a particularly sensitive spot, your jaw dropping and body tensing. He mouths at your neck, hand sliding between your legs, the pads of his fingers brush against your puffy clit—

A knock. A loud one at that.

The sound startles you both into stillness, and you let out a hiss from under your breath. You’ve forgotten that Tess was going to come by. Apologetically you reach back and manage to squeeze Joel’s thigh, your fingers sliding over the muscle from sweat. Joel understands that this will have to wait but instead of letting you go like you expected, he lifts you up from the coffee table, your back flush against his chest. You both face the door and another knock follows, your body tensing. 

“I’m not gonna stop fuckin’ you for no one,” he groans, pushing even deeper. Your head falls to his shoulder and your nipples tight. “She can come back.” 

“Joel, she might hear us,” you hiss but make no move to actually stop him. You feel him smirking against your skin. He slowly draws his hips back and thrusts into you—hard. Your body jerks and you cover your mouth last second before a moan can slip out. 

“That’s it, just keep quiet and she’ll be none the wiser.” 

Tess’s voice calls out your name through the door and knocks again, louder this time. Your eyelids flutter, your orgasm rapidly building from the thought of being caught. If Tess decides to break the door, which you don’t put past her, she’d see you in your full naked glory; your breast swaying with every ruck of Joel’s hips, your face dazed as you attempt to keep your noises to yourself. . . 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet—you’re turned on, aren’t you? Filthy thing, you like the idea of your best friend seein’ you gettin’ your brains fucked out?” 

You don’t dare answer and instead, you just take it. His fingers toy with your clit, swirling and drawing shapes over and over until your entire body is trembling and your core is tight. Joel’s hips stutter, pacing frantic, “Yes yes yes yes—come for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you so bad, come on, that’s it—that’s it—” 

It happens both suddenly and torturingly slow. Your body locks up and you squeeze around him, gushing and moaning helplessly into your palms. Your nostrils flare. Joel holds you tight, preventing you from accidentally jerking away and falling face-first into the table, you think Tess is still knocking but it soon ends. Your body is quivering, slick dripping, and sliding down his length. He kisses your cheek, then drags his lips down to your neck, sucking the sensitive skin. 

He starts to move again, “Joel,” you whimper and he stops, lips decorating your skin with more kisses. “I want you to come inside me.” 

You swear his cock swells even more. 

“Yeah?” he sounds amazed, almost. “You want me to fill this pretty pussy up?” 

“Please.” 

“A’right sweet girl, I will, I will,” he bites the tender flesh of your shoulder, hips drilling into you even harder than before. Your brain short circuit. Your poor, sensitive cunt tingling with overstimulation. With every snap of his hips you feel slick gushing from your core and your hands fully drop from your mouth, your body pliant with pleasure. 

It doesn’t take Joel long to come undone. He fucks into you one last time and keeps you still on his cock. Another orgasm rips from you at the pressure, his come filling you with violent, desperate spurts. His hips twitch. Joel licks the salt off your skin and then kisses the damp skin. You sigh with relief, hand dropping to your stomach. It feels good. So fucking good for him to claim you in such an intimate way. 

“Mine,” he growls, fingers biting into the flesh of your stomach. Again, his wings form a shield around you, trapping you two together. 

You smile and thread his fingers with your own, “Yours.” 

Note to self, always go to the door when Tess comes over. 

But honestly, how the hell were you supposed to know that she came over to warn you? 

You’ve seen the text first. You were out on the street doing some quick shopping before you returned home to Joel, however, before you could process what she had written you were surrounded. Familiar symbols of the cult decorated their suits and before you knew it, your vision blacked out. 

When you open your eyes once more, you notice that your hands are bound to the ceiling to keep you up. You hear the familiar buzz of the purple binds, much stronger and deadlier than regular rope. The back of your head throbs, an unpleasant pressure behind your eyes, you hiss and look down. 

The door opens. 

“Where is he?” a man with a white mask asks, stepping into the dingy cell. 

You raise your gaze, “Who?” 

You can’t see his face but you know he’s angry underneath the cheap plastic. He balls his hands into tight fists and before you know it, his knuckles hit you square in the jaw. You groan and spit up blood. 

“Where. Is. He.” 

You cough, the taste of iron overwhelming your taste blood. Still, you don’t yield. You look him straight in the eye and force a broken smile. 

“Who?” 

Joel knew all of it was too good to be true. 

The good food, the sex, the woman who loved him despite what and who he was—it should’ve tipped them off that it was only the calm before the storm. The solitude before ruin. He’d seen it many times before, why had he ignored it now? 

His eyes narrow and his wings fold, aiding his sharp dive to the building Tess had described. The wind slices at his cheeks, deafens him.  

Joel knows why he ignored it. 

It was because he was happy for the first time in forever. 

He crashes through the glass ceiling, shards of it bursting across the hard marble floor. He sees familiar people in suits covered in symbols. Joel snarls at them, his wings close to him. They’re the same people that imprisoned him—and now they had found the only thing he cared about to lure him into the wolf's den. Well, his capture won’t be easy this time. 

He’ll make them pay. He’ll make them all pay. 

Joel spreads out his wings and watches the foot soldiers cower in fear. He feels the dark energy pulsing in his palms, adding to his strength, and without a second thought he unleashes it, sharp arrows of darkness spearing their hearts, making them see their worst nightmares before falling.  

He kills, kills, and kills. They all feel his eternal pain before they fall, a fall that is much kinder than the one he had to endure. Joel leaves a trail of corpses on his way to you, his heart locked in fear of what might have happened to you. 

Joel senses you—your fear, your pain, your hope. He follows those strong feelings. You lead him to a hard steel door, and with the flat of his palm, the door turns to dust. 

Joel’s heart stops beating. 

You’re strung to the ceiling, your temple caked with blood, your body battered and bruised. You can barely breathe, your lips parting with short gasps. 

His rage is sudden and blinding. His shoulders raise with his wings, he sees the other man in the room with you, his gloved hands wet with your blood. The man turns to grab a weapon but Joel doesn’t grant him the favor. In the blink of an eye, he’s in front of him, his hands on his jaw, he forces the snap of his neck, a sickening crack echoing in the small chamber. 

He deserved something worse than death for hurting you, momentarily Joel regrets giving him the easy way out. 

“Joel,” your voice drags him away from his thoughts, his heart breaks at how soft it is. “Is that you?” 

Joel’s wings drop. He realizes his hands are wet with blood and shadows, he shakes the shadows off but the blood remains. 

“Joel?” you say again, and this time he snaps out of it fully, making his way towards you. He cradles your cheeks, kisses you deep before shattering the cuffs around your wrists. You sigh when you feel the familiar broad chest against your cheek, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Joel.” 

“It’s me,” he answers. “I’m—I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” 

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. In the end, you got here, didn’t you? That’s what matters.” 

He should’ve come sooner. Shouldn’t have waited around for Tess, he should’ve broken into every building and burned this city down until he found you. Leaving the chamber, Joel is careful not to make any sudden movements. His eyes soften, a hard knot in his throat when you nuzzle into him while he carries you away. 

“I’ve got you now, sweetheart. You’re safe, you’re safe,” his grip tightens around you. “I will keep hurting. I will keep killing. Anything to protect you. Never again.”

His steps come to a sudden halt as he feels your weak touch on his cheek. Joel looks down in worry but you’re smiling, his chest lightens. 

“Same goes for me,” you say, voice hoarse. “They can break every bone but I’ll never let them take you. Never again.” 

Joel looks at your weathered body. Humans were always so fragile, so prone to death. You’re nothing but a speck of dust compared to the dangers that lurked in this world—compared to him. But human resilience has always been something that immortals had feared. 

He smiles and nods. 

Joel firmly believes, deep within his heart, that he is safe as long as you’re here with him.

[misseviehyde]

RUNT

"Hey guys, please make some room," whined Tommy as he tried and failed to insert himself into the group of his friends bathing in front of the tiny magic mirror.

Waves of toxic feminine energy pulsed out of the glass, transforming reality and altering the three boys stood in front of it into hot bratty bitches... all except Tommy.

Giggles and soft moans emerged from pink pouting lips and there were cracks and pops as hips pushed out and bones shifted. The smell of tight wet pussy and female perfume filled the air, as the three former boys became hotter and hotter - enjoying their transformations into popular bitches.

Tommy, feeling increasingly desperate tried again, but the changing boys ignored him and actively blocked him, pushing him away and stopping him from getting into their tight knit pack.

"Fuck off you runt, mmmmmmh you're like such a loooooser."

Of all the boys, Tommy had needed this the most. He had always been smaller, weaker, the butt of the joke. He dreamed of being popular. As a tiny undersized boy he was nothing, but this mirror could make him into a sexy popular girl. Once he had long hair, a tight pussy, boobs and an ass for miles - no one would care that he was short. In fact as a girl it would just make him sexy.

"Pleeeeeease," he sobbed, but the three of them just laughed at him and did the L for loser sign on their foreheads with their fingers.

Tommy noticed that all three had cute manicured nails now. Rings and jewellery decorated their bodies... earrings and belly button rings were on show. His friend Brian even had a tongue piercing.

"Fuckkkk yeah... give it to me," he moaned sticking out his pierced tongue and giggling.

Tommy watched as Brian's boring male clothing shrunk and tightened. His underwear became bright pink and transformed into a bikini set. Soft skin tanned and smoothed and with a hot groan Brian stuck out his chest. Tommy watched in envy as two perfect round tits pushed out to fill the cups of the pink bikini. They looked so fucking good.

Long sexy hair tumbled down her slender back as Brianna was born and she left her boring life as a boy behind.

Next to her Tony shuddered in pleasure as he whipped back long blonde hair and stuck out his tongue like a little teasing whore. "Like I feel sooooo horny right now," gasped Tina as reality snapped around the brat and she became the little bitch she had always dreamed of being.

"Yeah I know what you mean babe," smiled Ashley - her identity as Ash forgotten as she bared her dazzling white teeth and ran a hand through her gorgeous brunette hair.

The three of them were now fully female and the mirrors magic spread out to change everyone's memories of them. Brianna, Tina and Ashley were now the three most popular girls at school. Spoiled rich brats who had boys blowing up their phones and everyone dancing to their tune.

Taking the mirror down from the wall, Brianna dropped it with an evil smile and it smashed into hundreds of pieces.

"Whoops."

"Hey, you like know that's bad luck right?" giggled Tina.

"Only for that little loser Tommy," purred Brianna. "What a fucking runt. He could never understand how good it feels to be this hot."

Laughing the three girls carefully walked around the broken glass and giving their former friend mean looks before exploding with laughter, they walked off to find something fun to do.

Sobbing, Tommy began gathering the shards of the mirror. Maybe he could fix it?

Somehow he doubted it. After all, he was just a worthless runt and he knew it...

[kaffiko]

a risky game

pairing - tom cruise x fem!reader summary - after your friend on set tells you she likes tom, you realise that they can't happen, because you like tom, and you know you need to confess your feelings before it's too late. warnings - a dash of angst, but mostly just fluff word count - 2.1k

you recalled the first time you'd met tom cruise. he was so incredibly handsome. his large, deep, green eyes and his shiny brunette hair... he was majestic. not only was he dazzling, but tom was driven and talented. when he introduced himself, shaking your hand, his voice was deep and charismatic.

although you had worked with many huge movie stars throughout your career, none of them came close to the way tom made you feel. he wanted you to be comfortable, like you were made to be a part of the cast. it was one of his ideas to make the movie a more authentic experience. you supposed that was why you never acted on your feelings. he was determined, and focused on his career. it seemed as if tom could never be interested in a relationship with someone on set.

as the filming continued, you kept your feelings towards tom bottled up inside you. you talked to him completely out of professionalism. of course, you didn't want to be awkward around him, so you told him stories of your family, your career, and he did the same. you learned so many amazing things about him, his family, how he raised up into the industry. the only thing that did was make you want him more. but you knew, attraction was a risky game.

tom was kind to everyone, though he had a special spot for you. he'd had many lead roles with various actresses, who were all beautiful and charming, but they weren't even close to being in the same vicinity as you. he knew you were oblivious to it, but you were on his mind twenty-four-seven, no one else. the first day tom laid eyes on you, shook your hand, saw your beautiful smile, he knew he had fallen for you. he was entranced by your gorgeous y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair, your slight pink cheeks, everything. to him, everything about you was flawless.

as much as tom wanted you, he knew he could never have you. he was a couple years older than you, and so immensely famous that everyone he'd ever been with was scared of the news circulating them. tom didn't ever want that to happen to you.

consequently, the two of you kept your feelings for each other to yourselves. exchanging glances, smiles, and small talk was all you could ever do.

now, you find yourself in tom's arms. his shirt is off, with you still fully clothed, though both your lips were puffy and pink from the previous kiss, make-out, whatever you want to call it, scene. it was heavenly. kissing tom was exactly how you envisioned it, like having a taste of something delicious, but you had to share it with your sibling. his lips were soft on yours, but the kiss was rough. your hands ran through his fluffy hair, melting completely into him. meanwhile, tom's left hand was placed firmly on your waist, while his right was moving up and down your body. you swore you heard him groan into your mouth at one point.

tom, himself, the director, and the producers loved the scene, but tom loved it on a whole other level, and in a completely different way. having your lips on his felt like a dream that he wanted to last forever. after that scene, tom loved you even more, if that was even possible.

your makeup artist, hanna, would often give you a lecture on how you should confess to tom. she knew everything about everyone, including how the two of you were apparently 'head over heels' for one another. hanna was the same makeup artist for almost everyone, since they wanted to spend more money on sets instead of makeup, so she was on top of all the gossip. half the time, you were still part asleep, so you paid no attention. that is, until she mentioned someone else was soon going to shoot her shot.

"i'm sorry, what?!" you semi-yelled, fully aware there were other actors still getting ready. your makeup artist nodded at you.

"yep. little miss lindsay turner is going to go for your man! you can't let that happen, can you?" hanna grinned. god, she was trying to get to you, and it was working.

you and lindsay certainly weren't close friends, but she was the only person you talked to at lunch besides tom. despite all the chatter that was going around, you never would have imagined lindsay actually liking tom. sometimes, she would get a little touchy, holding onto his arm as she giggled, and although you thought it was a little weird at first, you knew it was all platonic. at least, that's what you thought you knew.

it made you nervous. for the first time in your life, after a long time, you felt fear, and all the happy thoughts from the past few days had disintegrated into thin air. lindsay was undeniably beautiful. everyone admired her luscious red hair - they thought she was prettiest red head they'd seen in their entire lives. it hurt to say that you did, sort of, agree. tom could look even better with a girl like lindsay, why would he ever choose you?

lindsay and tom also had a lot in common, she was delighted to work with someone who was just as motivated as she was. she spoke with such confidence in her voice that it washed away all that was in yours. you felt invisible whenever lindsay was in the same room as you.

you sighed, looking at hanna hopelessly, "what do i do, hanna?"

she smiled, "well, i'm gonna make you look extra good today, even though you already look perfect on a daily basis. luckily for you, you have one of those date scenes with tom, so you need to look glammed up anyway. getting him to fall for you, not like he hasn't already," she winked, "is all about your mentality. you need to hint that you are thinking about tom in the scene, and not his character."

hanna was right. today, had, yet another, scene where you needed to kiss tom. she continued, "you need to make him love you, no one gives a damn about professionalism and his character, and what not." she finished your makeup, which was stunning, and handed you your costume. by the time she was done with the finishing touches, even you admitted you looked good.

"can we get y/n on in two minutes?" a voice from outside called.

"alright, y/n, go get him girl." hanna breathed out, patting your shoulders. you smiled at her quickly before leaving the room.

when tom saw you, his jaw quite literally dropped. he always found you stunning, but today, you were a different kind of stunning. you approached him, smiling warmly. "hey," you said.

his eyes scanned you quickly. you felt your cheeks heat up. was tom cruise really checking you out? "wow," tom chuckled, breathlessly, "you look... great."

you laughed lightly, stunned by his shocked expression, "thank you. you do too."

tom was dressed in a crisp, white dress shirt, paired with black slacks. his outfit matched with your sparkling, white dress and black heels. the scene was meant to be at a fancy restaurant, where tom's character took yours out on a date, and near the end, the two of you would share a passionate kiss. you couldn't help but smirk as lindsay discreetly gritted her teeth.

there were only a few minutes left before the shooting of the scene started, though that didn't stop lindsay from pulling you aside just as you were about to walk into the room. "hey, y/n," lindsay whispered, "i need to tell you something."

you looked at her, about ninety percent sure of what she was going to say next. "you have to promise you won't tell anyone though," she added.

you placed a hand on her shoulder. that was one of the many things lindsay hated about you. you were so, so kind, it made her feel guilty of how much she despised you. occasionally, she would think to herself, 'it's just a man', but it really wasn't just a man. it was tom cruise. lindsay was extremely envious of you. while you didn't know it, every single member of the cast was wrapped around your finger, especially tom. lindsay knew there was no way of competing against you. so, in order to score tom, she thought she had to do what she had originally been dreading.

"i promise. your secret's safe with me." you whispered back.

lindsay took a deep breath, then sighed it out, "i like tom." the words were like bullets, piercing your flesh, and racing straight through. you saw it coming, yet here you are, speechless. just when everything was going well for you, a pretty girl like lindsay had to ruin it.

"i-" you stuttered, struggling to even find words, "tom's great. he's an amazing and talented guy, you should totally shoot your shot."

lindsay beamed at your words, thrilled you didn't yell at her. "that's exactly what i was thinking!" she squealed, "i was going to tell him today, but i wanted your approval first. you know, girl best friends never let another girl steal them."

such a backhanded statement. you could feel the glare she gave you from a mile away. 'approval', 'girl best friend', 'steal'. you decided that if she said another word, you would hire a hitman to crawl into her trailer and stab her.

to save yourself trouble, you cut the conversation short, "you're absolutely right. you need to tell him, he actually really likes you. he thinks you're beautiful." you purposely used the same tone of voice as her and dragged out the 'beautiful'. "i need to go now. good luck, lindsay!"

lindsay watched as you walked down the hall, your glossy hair swishing each step you took. she was relieved she didn't need to say anything more.

she felt her hope fade each time she conversed with you, and this time, it might have just all gone away.

your mouth curved into a small smile just as tom placed his hand on top of yours. the cameras were solely on the two of you. tom's eyes were staring directly into your own, his gaze safe and lustful. "you're beautiful." he said, still looking attentively at you. you stayed silent, as mentioned in the script, but you continued smiling.

tom leaned in, just slightly. you did the same a couple seconds later, and soon, the two of you were almost touching. you felt his warm breath graze against your lips. tom leaned in a little more, placing one small kiss, then pulling away. you loved it. so much, that you wanted more. you leaned in again. this time, the kiss was different. it was as if you found the delicious delicacy again, and needed to selfishly devour the whole thing.

the director yelled cut, and the two of you pulled apart. after that kiss, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

you couldn't keep looking at tom every day and pretend you didn't feel more than friendship. you couldn't talk to tom, and hide away everything you wanted to tell him. attraction was a risky game, but it was one you were willing to play.

"tom." he was still sitting across from you. his head was bowed down to fix his shirt, but he looked up at the sound of your voice.

"i love you." you managed to say through shaky breaths.

tom smiled, shaking his head, "y/n, the camera isn't rolling anymore."

"no," you stopped tom, "i'm serious. let me say it again. i love you."

he was frozen. the most still you'd ever seen anyone be. tom couldn't believe the words that had just come out of your mouth. all these moments, where he could've said something, and didn't, were suddenly all a waste of time. if only he had known earlier, he could've stopped himself from this misery of hiding his, clearly obvious, feelings.

"i totally understand if you don't feel the same, i mean, you're a huge movie-" you were immediately cut off by tom's lips crashing onto yours. you instantly kissed back. you were finally kissing tom cruise, off camera. it was complete bliss.

"i love you too." tom said, bringing your hand up and placing small kisses on your knuckles.

on the side, lindsay was only slightly angry. she was definitely jealous, but she had realised just how amazing you were for tom. he looked at you with such love in his eyes, she came to the conclusion that he would never look at anyone else the same.

you were too happy to notice lindsay, though you would've been glad to know she wasn't fuming.

you were focused entirely on tom, and he was focused entirely on you. attraction was a risky game, and it was one you had won.