#i just drove home and finished typing this out

[weltraum-vaquero]

i was scrolling through pinterest and i came across a prompt: “i can’t focus with your damn hand on my— ooh..” i IMMEDIATELY thought of jayce 🫢 can i request sumn like that? i love your work so much 😭😭

Hi anon, this prompt drove me insane. Thank you so much!

Play (dirty)

Jayce Talis x GN Reader

Summary: A fancy play at the Piltover Opera is a good excuse as any to deck out. And an even better excuse to have some fun with your partner.

Word count: 2.5k

MDNI. Mature content under the cut.

Tags: Sub Jayce, slight exhibitionism, dry handjobs, heavy petting, alcohol consumption

Jayce could never stand still. There’s something in him that’s constant, restless, relentless. Always the type to fiddle, to twirl his pen between his fingers, to scratch at his own scruff in thought, to chew the inside of his cheek, to bounce his leg. His mind is a hyperactive, brilliant thing; equal parts blessing and curse.

He does it now, too — bouncing his leg, that is, under the fine silk of his prettiest burgundy slacks (his ass, though nothing to write home about, never failed to look tremendous in those. Something about the thin, generously revealing material seaming to the humble curve of his ass in a salacious display). Jayce taps his fingers on the sturdy oakwood of the theatre chair as he stares at the still lowered curtain, crosses his legs, sighs, uncrosses them, bounces his leg again.

It’s the final stretch of the second intermission, though the play isn’t particularly doing it for you, mainly because you’ve seen this exact rendition before, with Jayce at your side. Just… not from up here: an opulently designed balcony, all to yourselves, just shy of the stage. Generous courtesy of Salo for a favor taken rather than given from Jayce, a situation that’s been stressing him out something fierce these past few weeks. You digress. That’s not what matters anymore — he’s earned a break. He’s earned something good.

It’s a lovely opportunity to spend some time with him outside of the confines of his lab or your shared home, which is growing increasingly rare. It’s a lovely opportunity to put on your shiniest clothes and make a pretty sight for one another.

Undeniably, that’s been the best aspect of it. Jayce has been sneaking looks at you the whole time — perhaps bored with the play, perhaps too enticed with you. And you can’t exactly blame him, because you’re not doing much better either. 

How are you meant to do anything when you have a much more captivating sight to take in, sitting tensely in the chair next to yours?

A dark shirt that hugs the proud swell of his chest just right (certainly something to write home about), a pretty burgundy jacket just the same warm colour as the fruity merlot he’s finished sipping on, lingering on his plump lips. Silk curling at the seams, stretching under the heft of his now thicker thighs as they rest on the seat, tie loosened just so, and he’s good enough to eat. 

You lay a warm hand on the inside of his leg, and Jayce, as he always does, yields. Less on thought, more on instinct, always so eager, before he turns to look at you with a question in amber eyes gone chocolatey dark in the low light of the room.

“Hm?” 

His cologne hits you in a peppery-sweet, floral wave as he leans in, leans closer, and gives you the attention you’re so clearly demanding.

“Should I get us more wine?” You make feeble conversation, more eager to hear his voice than his thoughts. He’s been sharing most of them in whispers throughout the play so far as is. 

Jayce shakes his head, flashes a conspiratorial, boyish little smirk. “If I have any more, I might um,” he breaks out in a short, clearly tipsy giggle, “do something I really shouldn’t be doing up here.”

His hand finds yours, pinkies twining together in a near juvenile but vulnerable display of his affection, a plea for affection. And, oh, his eyes, though his pupils are blown wide, glitter mischievously like a cat’s about to pounce. Two can play that game… 

“Mm. That would be a terrible look on you,” you emptily agree. “Think of the headlines… Man of Progress caught moaning during Winter Solstice play, Man of Progress bent over the railing on the opera’s most lavish balcony…”

Jayce nods, a little drunkenly. Leans in for a kiss before he breathes: “Terrible.”

You let him have it — how could you not? Let him sloppily lick at your mouth like an overeager puppy for a long, dizzying, smooth-merlot attempt at a kiss. He smiles into it, as if in thanks.

Before you give a gentle little push at the plush swell of his chest with your other hand, pacing him, pulling away to leave him in a dazed little stupor. His breath hits your now slick lips in a warm, wet brush.

“Intermission’s about to end.” You pat his thigh less sensually, more like you’d pat an obedient dog for a trick well done. “Better keep quiet and focus on the third act.”

It looks like it pains him to settle back into his velvet seat, so you leave your hand on the top of his now still thigh — a reminder, a promise. It keeps Jayce on his toes more than the narrative unfolding before you does. Well worked sinew draws so tight you can feel it vibrate even under the soft layer of plush fat on his thighs, and as the action in the play begins to find its inevitable build, you find your hand wandering. 

Just to the inside of his thigh, first, where he’s softer, which he gladly offers up to you. Fingers draw patterns more intricate than the paisley on his vest, until poor, tormented Jayce begins to shift in his velvet seat. Tilts his hips this way, then that, then readjusts his whole frame in the seat with an awkward clear of his throat when it creaks.

The rich tones of a singular violin crescendos in sync with the dip of your hand further, up, up, until you reach that tense tendon on the inside of his leg, where his thigh seams to his hip.

And further inwards, his straining cock nudges the back of your knuckles through the silk of his pants. Jayce jumps with the contact… Poor, poor thing.

“Aw, Jayce...” It’s both pity and reprimand, a whisper so low he can barely hear it. The flesh of his thigh spills from between squeezing fingers; it has him lowering his head in shame and trying to breathe through it. If not for the sacred quiet of the imposing room, for the performers playing their instruments as deftly as you’re about to play him, he would have at the very least whined for it. A low, pleading, dog-like sound.

Instead, he shoots you a look. Desperate and dazed and wide-eyed all at once in the dark of the room, before it turns into a kind of anger that does not and will not bite. Nibbles on you like an angry puppy, more like.

“How d-do you expect me to focus when your damn hand is—“ and you give him what he wants, “o-oh.”

Grabbing a handful of the straining outline of his dick through his pants, rubbing just once, from the wet patch on the tip to as far down as the silk allows.

“Better?” You ask.

Jayce breathes a terrified, shivering sigh.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

“I can stop,” you remind. He knows it to be the truth intimately; though he aches to please to a fault, Jayce has learned a thing or two about respecting his own boundaries by now. You trust that if he needs you to, he will give you the word.

“Don’t.” Armrests gripped so tight they could splinter, eager hips raise off the theatre seat to chase your hand until your palm cradles his leaky tip once more. Wide eyes flutter closed and cherry slick lips part in a muted expression of bliss.

“Then don’t make a mess,” you breathe into his ear. “And keep quiet. Can you do that, baby?”

Jayce nods desperately, and does a surprisingly great job at swallowing another moan as you twirl your fingertips around what should be the crown of his cock, silk gliding under your hand akin to well oiled skin. He lets it happen gladly, spreads his legs in welcoming especially when you reach further down, until the dainty weight of his balls sits cupped in the groove of your palm. There, you linger, simply holding him where he’s most sensitive, unmoving.

Jayce exhales shakily, baby doe eyes flicking between you and the hand between his legs in questioning, in hope. The soft, still cradle of your palm turns greedy as you feel him up, fingertips curling around the heft of his bulge, his cock pressing into your hand. All of him trembles with how he stifles a gasp into the back of his fist.

You simply knead at him idly, the way a satisfied cat would as it purrs, and make a show of diverting your attention back to the play you couldn’t care less about. It gets him off, in some capacity, to be touched but not paid attention to. It had made him soil his pants so quick, once, simply letting him have his pleasure against your thigh while you were busy with a book, and it’s a technique you employ on occasion since. Coupled with the fact that Jayce, touchy and needy as he is, hasn’t gotten much chance at release lately, you know for certain he will find it now, and fast. 

The glossy silk has gone sticky wet at the very tip of his dick, so much so it even leaves your hand damp after an indulgent squeeze at it. Below, horns blare with the oncoming climax of the play, music daunting in its grandeur even from up so high. In spute of such an enticing distraction at hand, you can’t help but marvel at them as you palm Jayce’s cock. And you recognize the melody the very next moment, the thrill of hearing it for the very first time; just as you know the end Jayce is approaching with intimate familiarity, so do you remember the next part of the play. 

It will go quiet for a long, breathtaking moment to draw the audience to the edge of their seats, the calm before the storm — and Jayce, judging by the sweat on his brow, the way he almost tears into the back of his fist with his canines, Jayce will not, cannot be quiet.

The realization must hit him at the same time as it hits you, because his free hand grabs yours in a death grip, a decidedly desperate attempt at halting the inevitable. 

“S-stop,” he whispers, his lips meeting on the p just moments before the entire orchestra quiets. 

You can hear every bated inhale in the grandiose room — but none of them as sweet as Jayce’s. The whole room buzzes, alight with the anticipation of the audience. 

Jayce squeezes your hand vehemently, like the weight of his barely contained orgasm threatens to crush him. His thighs clench around your hand, his body curls, he exhales in a silent cry, before he presses his hand to his lips so hard it makes you wince. You lean in close enough to be able to hear his thoughts, let him hide his face in the fabric on your shoulder.

“Breathe,” you coo at him like he’s in pain, stroking your thumb up, then down the aching outline of his cock. It makes his hips jump. “Once the music starts again, I’ll take care of you.”

You can feel him nod his head against your shoulder, can feel his grip slacken, can hear the tension in the room crackling like lightning when a violin starts a short-lived solo that is soon joined by the rest of the orchestra in a tsunami.

Jayce lets go of your hand, spreads his legs as if to offer himself up on a silver platter to you — full, complete trust. You slip the buttons of his pants out of their eyelets fast, aided by the near oily slipperiness of the fabric, the press of his cock, which have the front flap popping open the rest of the way.

Your hand slides down the bump of his soft, fuzzy tummy, into his pants, his underwear, easily, because it’s warm, familiar territory. Cradling all he’s worth in your hand, you scoop both his cock and his balls from the confines of the silk, laying them out vulnerable and exposed to the cold air.

It forces a gasp from Jayce, fortunately lost to the music, instinctually going to cover himself with both hands at the sensation and the prospect of being at the mercy of such a grand, full room.

“I’ve got you,” you remind him. Deft hands reach for his breast pocket, stealing away his handkerchief from him. Even dazed like this, Jayce understands your intention easily, and wins another battle against his instincts as he lets his hands fall away from where they’re cupped over himself protectively. One hand fists the silk of his pants, and the other wraps around your forearm not in guidance, but in seeking, of your presence, of you, grounding himself.

Jayce goes perfectly still as you stroke his dry cock, from root to swollen tip. It can’t be satisfying, you know so by just the feel of your hand around him, the way his foreskin drags with the grip you have on him, up, over his leaky cockhead, then down, exposing him where he’s most sensitive. It can’t be good, but it’s enough, because Jayce whines, quiet and half-terrified as he hides his face against your shoulder, before he goes rigid with your next upward stroke. 

And you do that thing he likes so much — his tip’s smeared in enough of his precum to facilitate an overstimulating twist of your palm around just the ruddiness of his crown. His mouth falls open in a silent wail.

Jayce is so easy. Shoots his load into the handkerchief you bring up to his cock just in time, lets you milk all his overwhelming orgasm’s worth into the fabric until he can’t help but clench his thighs around your still moving hand. Trembles in time with his twitching cock as you wipe the strings of cum off his sticky, swollen cockhead and stuff the handkerchief back into his breast pocket.

The orchestra quiets once more, for good this time, and the audience’s applause roars. There won’t be much time until the lights come on, so you make quick work of tucking him back into his pants, and once Jayce regains some of his mental footing, he helps you button them back up.

Just in time — the lights blind you, but not as much as he does. Sitting low in his seat, slick with sweat, disheveled in his best clothes, and smiling at you so wide and dopey he shines, Jayce is brighter than any light, any sun. His chest rises and falls at a fierce, breakneck pace as he catches his breath.

You lean in to grant him a well deserved kiss to the cheek, one he chases with his mouth instead, and smiles into when you lick what remains of the by now long dried merlot from the ridges of his lips.

It makes him smile wider, a blush that matches his suit perfectly blooms on his cheeks. He takes the hand you’d stroked him with, intertwines your fingers like the lovesick fool that he is. You squeeze back, like the lovesick fool that you are, and can’t help but gaze into his eyes even as the eager applause slowly fizzles out.

“They clapped for the wrong performance,” you whisper to him. “You were far more glorious than any play.”

[causenessus]

missing dodger hours

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.

Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"

"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.

"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.

"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.

Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.

* * *

"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.

"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.

"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"

Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.

"Uh, it's the kids."

Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."

Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.

The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.

"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.

"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.

"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."

Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.

"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."

Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.

He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.

Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.

Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.

Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.

This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.

"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.

Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.

"Friday, what day is it?"

"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."

Hm.

Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.

"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.

Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.

"Your hand writing's terrible."

* * *

Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.

It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.

"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.

"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"

"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.

The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.

Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.

In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.

Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.

It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.

The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.

The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.

[fireinmoonshot]

hit the jackpot | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: When you text your boyfriend for help after someone makes you and your friends uncomfortable at the bar, Tyler is quick to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of a guy being creepy, references to alcohol and unsafe driving Word Count: 1.2k A/N: Just a short one! I am gonna start working on a longer one hopefully tomorrow, but I just wrote this one tonight after I had the idea and so here it is! I love this Tyler so much. Enjoy! 💗

Tyler was sitting in front of his computer, going through some of the footage they’d gotten today to start editing it for a video on Youtube when his phone buzzed. Usually he’d ignore it so late at night, especially because he was working, but not tonight.

You were out with your friends, celebrating one of their birthday’s at a bar a few blocks from the house you shared with Tyler. He’d wanted to come along, but no one else was bringing a partner so, regretfully, he’d agreed to stay home – but just one text and he’d be there, either to be the designated driver for you and your friends or any other reason.

He figured, from the time of evening, it would be a text asking him to come and pick you and your friends up, but the second he read the message, his computer was forgotten in front of him and he was standing up and heading to the door before he even finished reading.

There’s some guy here being creepy. Can you come by?

With one hand, he typed out a quick On my way and with the other, he grabbed his car keys. He locked the door behind him, not bothering about grabbing a jacket despite the chill in the air, and jogged the few steps to his truck, parked in the driveway. 

Tyler was a safe driver, but that night he drove a little over the speed limit – knowing he shouldn’t but being much more worried about you to care too much – to get to the bar quicker. He pulled up right out the front and was quick to throw the truck in park and jump out, shoving his keys in the pocket of his jeans as he headed towards the door.

It looked busy, people spilling out of the bar onto the street, but Tyler didn’t let that phase him. He pushed through the crowd with ease, his height and the way he held himself almost making the crowd part for him. He paused briefly once he was inside, looking around for you and your friends, and when he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate.

You spotted him getting closer towards you and let out a breath of relief. “Ty, that was so quick,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as he reached you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Would have been here quicker if I could’ve been, darlin’,” Tyler replied. “Now, where is this creep and what has he been doing?” He gave a quick greeting to your friends, who were standing in a circle, glancing nervously back over their shoulders. 

“He’s the one in the brown shirt with the black hair, just there,” you point the man out, trying to be as discreet as possible, not wanting to pull attention to yourself even though you know that nothing is gonna happen now that Tyler is here. “He just won’t leave us alone. We’ve all told him we’re not interested but he won’t take no for an answer.”

You wondered, briefly, if he had actually moved away from you all, as he was stood talking to another person a few people away from you, but then he glanced back and met your eyes and you could see the interest spark on his face again. 

Tyler didn’t let the man get very close. He hated to let you go, but he knew you were safe behind him as he moved to put himself between your friends and the man so he couldn’t get any closer to them. 

“Hey, ‘scuse me, man, just trying to get past.” The man tried to side-step past Tyler, but he was quick, moving to stand in his way again. 

“I think you should leave,” Tyler said.

The man stopped and raised his eyebrows before letting out a laugh. “Who are you to say that to me, man? I’m just trying to have a nice night and talk to some nice ladies, and I’ve been talking to some just over there all night.” He moved, trying to step around Tyler again.

Tyler moved in his path again. “You listen to me,” he started. “Those ladies want nothing to do with you. I’m not a violent man, but if you try and get past me to get to them one more time, I can’t promise you I won’t become one. So, I am telling you to get the hell outta here.”

You watched for a few moments as the man stared Tyler down, worrying that he was going to take a swing at your boyfriend and create drama. The last thing you wanted was for Tyler to get hurt tonight. The night had already taken a turn for the worst. 

“You need me to tell you again?” Tyler said in response to the silence.

The man scoffed, threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heel, walking out of the bar. You all watched him as he left, letting out a breath of relief when you saw him leave. 

Tyler was quick to come back over to you, wrapping an arm around you again and gently rubbing your arm in an attempt to soothe you. He could tell you were feeling tense – and for good reason. That man was a prick and Tyler was mad he wasn’t here to get rid of him before he made you and your friends so uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Ty,” you leant into his side, giving him a squeeze. 

“No need to thank me, darlin’, protecting you and your friends is my job.” He pressed another kiss to the top of your head. 

Your friends all thanked him as well, relaxing a bit now that the man was gone.

“That’s not the end to the night I was hoping for,” one of your friends said.

“I know,” you pouted. “I was hoping we’d get another hour or two at least.”

Tyler looked down at you. “Who says your night has to end? You can all come back to ours, y’know,” he suggested. “We have drinks and food. Pretty sure my girl has some stuff in the fridge to whip up a quick cheese board. What do you say?”

All of your friends looked to you, hope in their eyes. 

“Ty, are you sure? I know you have some work you need to get done.” 

“Course I’m sure, darlin’. I don’t think your night should be ruined by an asshole like that, and I know how excited you were to spend so much time with your friends. I can just drive them all home when you’re done.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you leant up to press your lips to Tyler’s. He smiled into the kiss as he kissed you back. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you grinned after you broke away from the kiss. “Party continues at ours!”

Tyler kept an arm wrapped around you as you walked out of the bar. Two of your friends walked ahead of you, leading the way. The third leant in to mutter a quick “I think you won the jackpot with your boyfriend” in your ear. You knew that she was a hundred percent right. 

[bouncybongfairy]

First off, I love your writing and I can’t get enough really. I’ve been obsessed with your atla stuff and I was wondering if you’d be down to write for Sokka. Any smut really but like something like, you’re traveling with the gaang and there’s tons of tension with him. If not no hard feelings whatsoever, just a suggestion.

Do You?

Sokka x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: There's been a lot of tension between you and Sokka for the past couple of weeks. After and heated argument, Anng send both of you to get some air. Sokka finds you in a tavern after a couple of drinks and both your feelings come to the surface.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Smut

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Appa had been sick for the past couple days, meaning you guys were basically stranded until he was better. It didn’t help that you and Sokka had been going at it lately. You weren’t really sure why but everything he did drove you crazy. Anng paired the two of you up to skin the fish for tonight's dinner. The entire time he was criticizing you about how you were descaling it. Bragging about back home he could prepare a fish faster than anyone.

“Oh so since you’re the best and can do it ‘fAsTeR tHaN aNyOnE’ you can do this on your own,” you said, standing up and wiping your hands. 

“Sloppy help is better than no help,” he huffed. 

“Whatever, I'll go help Katara,” you said. 

“Wait no- okay I’ll chill with the critiques. Let me teach you,” he said, reaching his hand out. 

Without saying anything, you walked back over and sat on your knees. He sat behind you, his knees on the outside of your hips and thighs. Giving you the knife and securing your grip with his own. Holding onto the outsides of your hands as he instructed. As he talked, you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. Due to him being so close to your ear, he lowered his voice. Speaking with a soft and gentle tone, making your ears burn slightly. You began unknowingly letting yourself enjoy this. The way you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. Liking the feeling of his body against yours and his smell engulfing your nose. 

“See,even you can do it!” he said in an extremely patronizing way. 

“Fuck off,” you said, feeling overwhelmed by how much you were enjoying his touch. Also not appreciating his poking fun at you even more. 

“Ugh you’re exhausting, even when I try being nice you push me away. Can't you see that I like -ahem- that I’m like, trying to make an effort!” he said, cheeks flushing red. 

“That’s it! I’m tired of hearing the two bickering none stop. Both of you need space from each other! Sokka you go that way, y/n you go that way. I don’t care what you do, but don’t come back until you figure out why both of you are so insufferable!” Anng yelled, slamming his glider onto the ground. 

The two of you made intense eye contact before walking away. Luckily for you, he sent you in the direction of a local market in the village. The walk gave you a lot of time to think; when he was helping you skin the fish, it felt like he had underlying feelings. Like he was purposely finding an excuse to be close to you. The tone in his voice was different, you never heard him talk like that to anyone else.​​ The way he slid his hands along your arms before grabbing your hands. It was becoming evident that the frustration and tension you’ve been feeling wasn’t caused by anger. 

You finally reached a tavern, it wasn’t much but it was cozy. Drunk men singing and goofing off with each other. A group of women gossiping with each other adjacent to a group of men playing Pai Sho. Immediately feeling out of place, you walk up to the barmaid and ask for whatever she recommended. Which ended up being some type of fermented wine. One of the young men comes up to you, trying to engage in conversation. 

“Are you new to town? I’ve been coming here for a couple years but I've never seen you,” he says, smiling while holding his drink. 

“Oh um, yeah I’m just staying in town for a couple days,” you explain, finishing off your drink and ordering another one. 

“Aww that’s a shame, I bet I could convince you to stay for a little longer,” he said, which made you giggle. 

You were now polishing off your third drink, watching the game. Enjoying the music, making conversation with the other patrons. Dancing with the group of young women from earlier. You didn’t realize Sokka was watching you from the wooden doors. Eventually the young gentlemen who you were speaking with earlier, starts to dance with you. Sokka was visibly getting more irritated, watching his hand travel down your back. Once the guy wrapped his arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, he couldn’t control himself. Stomping over and pulling you out of the dude's grip. Your heart sank once your eyes fell onto him. Like you’d been caught doing something wrong, looking you up and down with such disappointment.

“We're leaving,” Sokka growled, grabbing you by the upper arm gently. 

“Does she want to leave with you,” the guy asked. 

“Do you?” Sokka asked, looking down at you. Feeling quite tipsy it made you nervous to speak. Like if you opened your mouth, only stupidness would come out. He was looking at you with such intensity and jealousy, you nodded your head in agreement. Leading you out of the building, into an alley behind the building. Giving you two some privacy while waiting for him to talk. 

“Are you mad?” you asked. 

“I feel like I've dropped all the hits I can. I don’t know if this is like… your way of making me just admit it but I like you. If you keep pushing me away every time I come onto you then I just won’t anymore. I can’t take it,” he said, walking over to the river bank. Letting his hair free from its pony tail out of frustration. Falling onto his knees and splashing some cool water onto his face. Seeing how disappointed he was in your actions made you feel stupid. Like you were blind to all his advances and playful teasing and it was too late to let your feelings known. However, you were drunk enough to at least give it a shot. Walking over to him and joining where he sat in the grass. 

“I think I was just nervous -hiccup- to tell you how I felt. Then because I was holding all my feelings inside, I became standoffish. I’m sorry,” you said, brushing the partially wet hair off his face before continuing, “Please don’t think I’m only saying this because I drank. Drunk thoughts are sober words… or is it sober words are drunk thoughts,” you begin making him laugh. 

“Are you gonna make me ask for a kiss?” you asked, he took your offer and smashed his lips against yours. 

Lips melting together as you straddle his lap. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Moaning as you started grinding down on his dick print. The alcohol in your system was making you more ballsy, desperately grinding yourself against him. Enjoying the friction against your clit. Sokka’s mouth hung open as bucked his hips up. Gripping your hips tightly, helping work you on him. He was sitting up, back against the back wall of the tavern. You were holding his face in your hands, moaning and panting against his lips. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he started to cum. His hips spasming from underneath, you could feel his length spasm against your core, sending you into climax. Time slowed while fire was pooling in your lower abdomen and you frantically rubbed yourself against him. Letting your head fall towards, letting him support your weight while cooling down. Both of you walking hand and hand, his giving you a piggy back ride once you became too tired. 

“Great, see sometimes a little space does people good. Glad you guys worked it out,” Anng said as the two of you walked to separate tents. 

“Oh trust me, we really worked through our problems,” Sokka remarked before everyone turned in.

[snixkers]

Hot to Go

Pairing: Emily Prentiss × Fem!Reader

For: Anonymous Request, filling the slot of praise kink for @cmkinkbingo2024

EXPLICIT CONTENT, SMUT

Content Warnings: Strapon (reader receiving), introducing new things in bedroom, soft!Dom Emily, description of sex toys, squirting, inexperienced reader, use of baby as a pet name

Summary: You find Emily's suggestion to spice things up very appealing.

Author's Note: Holy shit when I tell you I have never been sicker. I literally was typing gibberish thinking it made sense. Anyways, dw, this is hot, I promise.

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You stared at Emily as she came home, scraping your food around on your plate haphazardly until she was finished unpacking. Her trained eyes immediately read your body language, setting off red flags in her brain.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

You tensed up at the sound of her sultry voice. After she came back from a case, you typically gave her a massage before letting your hands wander. And sometimes, the roles were reversed.

Her smooth, soft hands caressed your muscles, relieving every ache while simultaneously growing the one in your core.

You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, setting your plate in the sink. "I, um, I saw your package."

Her face fell slightly, although you could see a burning curiosity beginning to kindle. She knew, of course, exactly what you had found. She had purchased a strap on, nothing unimaginable, about five inches. Emily took a small step towards you before reaching her hands out.

You took them gratefully, a little bit nervous about where this was going but ready to explore.

"Last week, I was thinking. I'm usually on top in the bedroom, and I know we've already used toys, but you've never tried this."

Your face flushed, already aware of your inexperience when it came to your relationships with women. But Emily was always patient, asking questions and putting boundaries in place. She truly was the perfect partner.

So that's why with a shaky breath, you nodded, giving her a kiss. "I'd like to try that."

So that's how you found yourself on the bed five minutes later, your legs spread and knees pressed to your chest. She had been properly prepping you for a while, but you were desperate.

"Em, please, I want you."

She turned away, grabbing the harness and fastening it carefully.

"Just relax, baby. I'll take care of you."

Emily positioned herself at your entrance, rubbing the spongy tip up and down your dripping slit. The teasing was making you even more hot and bothered, which she could easily tell. "Ready for me?" She waiting for your nod of affirmation before slowly pressing inside.

You gasped involuntarily, feeling the head of the cock begin to breach you. She drove it in carefully, like she was trying not to break you. As hesitant as you were before, you wanted to feel the full spectrum of what she had to offer. "The whole thing." You said, not even realizing it was out loud.

She nodded, concentration beading on her brow. "Is this what you want?" She asked as the leather harness hit your thighs.

You shook your head, savoring the feeling of her sheathed deep inside you. "I need you to be rough, like you usually are."

She bit her lip, looking the opposite of the dominating figure she usually was in the bedroom.

"Are you sure? This is something new and I don't-"

Her voice trailed off as you began rocking against her, grinding yourself up and down the rubber. She looked down for a second before deciding to begin a steady pace.

Both of your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls and going back into your cores. She moved inside you with a purpose, hitting that button with every stroke. Your face was contorted in pleasure, and she committed it to memory.

Emily watched you writhe and moan beneath her with a sly smile, unable to help fondling your bouncing tits. "Oh baby, you're taking my cock so well."

You nodded at her words, eager to please as you rutted against her to assist in your pleasure. When she began to circle your clit with a single finger, the sensation made you shudder, your whole body quaking as it surrendered to her touch. She saw this and knew it, urging you closer to that orgasm you knew you were about to hit. "Come on baby, let me see you coat my cock. Just like that."

She didn't speed up, or go harder, just kept doing the same thing she had been to get the best reaction. And you knew you were a goner the second you heard a sloshing noise from between your legs. Almost immediately, a gush of liquid emanated from between your thighs.

She fucked you through your orgasm, making sure to slowly bring you down with words of encouragement before sliding the cock out from between your legs.

"How was it?"

You just nodded, too dazed to truly respond. She laughed at that, cleaning you up and leaving the toy on the corner of the bed, ready for your inevitable request of a second round

[jsluvtzu]

who’s protecting who?

park jihyo x fem!reader

summary: in the midst of attempting to keep jihyo from getting hurt, you ultimately forget about yourself

cw: none, men dni

wc: 5k

a/n: first fic in a while hooray!! my friends and i beat the pickleball pandemic and caught the volleyball virus instead, so enjoy this fluffy vb themed fic :p (this might be my longest one yet)

as you finished ringing up the last customer of the usual lunch rush, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. hurriedly assuring the customer that their order would be out soon and excusing yourself to the back, you asked your coworker to take over the counter for a bit while you took a small break from standing for so long.

pulling your phone out of your pocket and into your hand, you saw a text message flash across your screen, slightly blocking the lockscreen picture you had of your girlfriend kissing your cheek.

jihyo 🩷

y/nnn i think i wanna try volleyball and learn how to be as good as u :pp

smiling as your eyes flickered between reading her text and reminiscing on the exact moment the photo on your phone was taken, you tapped on the message and replied.

okay love i"ll teach u lol

knowing jihyo had a busy schedule consisting of both work and her 12 different hobbies, you didn't want her to overwhelm herself by taking on yet another one. nonetheless, you were excited to have her join you in something that you've always imagined the two of you doing together.

u sure ur not too busy tho?

it'd been about 2 years since you first picked up the sport as a pastime with a couple friends. eventually it turned into friendly tournaments on the weekends at the local community court with other groups, which then turned into trying out for professional leagues and miraculously making it into one.

jihyo 🩷

i can always make time silly

unfortunately, your break time was now quickly coming to an end, so you rushed to type out a response and carelessly shoved your phone back into your pocket.

we can go after i get off work then :) wear something u can freely move in and put on ur most comfortable shoes. i love u see u soon ml

speedrunning through the last few hours of your shift was excruciating when all you could think about was finally being able to show the girl you loved most how to play the sport you loved most. the anticipation of coaching her into becoming a better player than you made it impossible for you to focus on making a drink as simple as an iced latte.

"oh shit-" you whispered to yourself, realizing that you'd almost overfilled the cup with the caffeinated liquid.

as you clocked out and drove home, you couldn't stop yourself from mindlessly humming and calmly dancing to the music you had playing in your car. your coworkers even stopped to ask you, "what's got you in such a good mood?" multiple times.

and to no surprise, jihyo was already packed and ready to go the minute you opened the door to your shared apartment. the oversized backpack on her shoulders was filled to the brim with snacks and water for the active evening ahead. her sporty outfit was exactly what you'd imagined your girlfriend would wear. a slightly loose fitting muscle tee, athletic leggings, and her new favorite pair of running shoes on her feet to top it all off.

you couldn't help but melt at her eagerness as you took your shoes off and set your keys down onto the table by your shoe rack.

"hi baby," you said amusedly, "you're well prepared i see."

she beamed at you with her doe eyes and hummed in agreement as she skipped towards you to greet you with a kiss. her warm lips made contact with yours in a desperate manner, almost a silent message to relay just how much she'd missed you since you left for work early in the morning. you pulled away just enough to where your lips barely grazed each other, "let me change first and then we can be on our way, okay?" you pecked her lips again and once more to her cheek as you walked away to your shared bedroom to free yourself of your coffee reeking clothes. jihyo quickly set her backpack down onto the couch and followed behind you shortly.

you changed into your team's white long sleeved compression jersey with your custom number on the back; a bright pink "21" for jihyo, of course. soon after, you slid into your spandex shorts and turned your head to the side to see jihyo leaning up against the wall next to you. the sunlight shining through the open blinds accentuated her features perfectly. she was smiling proudly as she watched you morph into a different version of yourself that she only saw at your games.

"what're you looking at.." you said shyly, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your girlfriend's gaze.

she only giggled in response and lifted herself off the wall to fill the room with a loud smacking sound as she slapped your ass and made her way over to your bed, plopping down and facing the ceiling. you immediately let out a loud "oww!!" and rubbed over your burning cheek to soothe it.

"so, who are we playing against today? anyone i should be worried about?" jihyo asked. you walked over to the full-sized mirror in the corner of the room before answering her question, still focused on the stinging pain she left. "hm? oh, actually we aren't playing a real match today. i'm just gonna be showing you the basics and whatnot," you replied, tying your hair into a messy low bun at the same time.

a couple seconds of silence passed, concerning you enough to make you look behind you through the mirror and see your girlfriend who once laid flat down suddenly pin-straight up glaring at you. her posture was something out of a horror movie the way her back was perfectly aligned and her hands were beside her knees. you gulped and almost genuinely got scared until you glanced down to see her feet barely touching the floor. that's when you choked back a laugh at how cute her attempt at intimidating you was.

you finished up doing your hair and walked towards your pouty girlfriend. "what's wrong? why are you making a face like you just came out of one of those insidious movies?” you asked, pulling out a few strands to frame your face.

she whined in response, "i don't wanna learn the basics.. that's so boring. i wanna learn how to really play volleyball. not that kiddie stuff for the youth age group." you reached a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "hey! that 'kiddie stuff' is really important, you know. you can't just go right into spiking without knowing how to hit and jump correctly first," you grumbled. jihyo looked at you confusedly, "..spiking..?" "exactly," you huffed.

jihyo groaned as she launched herself backwards onto the bed, the sheets rustling under her and beginning to surround her as she sunk further into the mattress.

"trust meee, it's for your own safety, love. i just don't want you getting hurt if i let you go right into a game not knowing what to do, that's all. a one-on-one session is always the best option for beginners," you reassured her, grabbing both of her arms and slowly pulling her up towards you. when you heard your girlfriend groan at you again, you realized it could be something else bothering her.

"ohh, or are you just annoyed that you have to be alone with me?? is that what this is??" you asked teasingly. but as soon as she heard that, jihyo stopped her whining immediately and scrunched her eyebrows up in a questioning manner, shaking her head aggressively.

"w-what? no! why would i be not wanna be alone with you! i just wanna be good already! just like.. let me skip the tutorial or something pleaseee," she pleaded. jihyo removed her arms from your grip and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you closer to her. you mockingly nodded your head and sarcastically spewed out "uh huhs" and "mhms" repeatedly, letting your girlfriend continue tightly hugging you and begging you for a free pass.

-

during the whole car ride there, it was impossible for you and jihyo to spend more than 2 seconds without touching each other in some way. whether it be her insisting she hold your hand while she secretly gushed at how attractive you look driving one-handed, or her switching to playing with your fingers while she asked more volleyball questions, or even kissing at each red light, there was never a single moment in that car where you two weren’t expressing your love in a form of touch.

as you pulled into the parking lot of the court complex, jihyo remembered the long nights and hours upon hours you would spend at these courts — it was practically your second home. that thought suddenly worried her that she might’ve been taking away your precious practice hours.

“baby, don’t you have practice today? if you do, you have to focus on that, not teaching me how to play. we can always do that some other time,” jihyo rambled.

you softly laughed at her flustered state knowing that you never told her the season was over yet. “no, love, don’t worry. it’s off-season for now, i don’t have any practices to go to,” you said reassuringly, squeezing her hand in yours to help settle her down. “plus, i would skip out on practice any day if it meant i could be with you.”

she sighed contently as you parked in an empty spot and turned the car off. before jihyo could even reach to click her seatbelt off, you teleported over to her side, opening the door for her and holding your hand out to help her up from your low sedan seats. your girlfriend mewled at the chivalrous gesture, grinning from ear to ear as she peeked her head out of the door. and to make sure she didn’t bump her head against the doorframe, you shielded her head with your hand as she came up.

popping the trunk open, you grabbed your backpack that was filled with volleyball gear and swung it over one shoulder. you made sure to grab jihyo’s as well, throwing hers over your other shoulder.

“you see that building over there with the big 2 painted on it?” you asked, pointing to the right side of the complex, “that’s where we’ll be. it’s a smaller court though since it’s only a practice gym.” jihyo looked in the direction you pointed at and hummed as she took in the size difference from the competition gym on the left and the practice one you mentioned.

while you were leading her to the unlocked doors of the practice court, jihyo kept pestering you to let her help you with one of the bags you were carrying, but of course you never let up. it even got to the point where you accidentally whacked your poor girlfriend with her own snack-filled bag while twisting and turning in protest of her need to help you.

“oh fu- sorry! i’m sorry, it was an accident i swear!” you frantically apologized, pulling jihyo into a messy hug. the heavy bags on your shoulders slipping off your arms as you held her close to you.

jihyo faked a hissy fit and jokingly pushed you away, “no i get it, you just hate me,” she said firmly, turning her head sharply and crossing her arms.

you paid no mind to your girlfriend’s antics, only catching up to her to hold open the door and watch her stomp past you in a sulk.

“i love youuu,” you chuckled.

her reply was barely audible, but you heard her mumble out an “i love you too” back.

-

setting your things down on the floor along the sidelines, you grabbed out an extra pair of knee pads you'd packed for jihyo. "come here love, let me put these on you," you ordered. it was difficult to slide the pads onto her legs with her shoes still on, so you helped her take them off for the time being, placing the pair neatly beside you.

kneeling down in front of her, you gently lifted one of jihyo's legs up at a time, skillfully adjusting the protective pads around her knee and taking extra precaution to make sure her legs were still able to move properly. you then sat back on your knees and admired your work, wondering why you felt like there was something missing.

"hmm.. i think.. i have something else for you to try on too," you pondered, digging through your bag once again to discover an old pair of extra small knee pads that didn't fit you anymore.

standing up with the gear in your hands, you held your girlfriend's forearm out as you stretched the material to enclose around her limb.

you snickered slightly at your spontaneous idea, "these are makeshift elbow pads specially designed for you." the pads were big enough to fit comfortably around her arms, protecting her exposed elbows from any potential harm.

jihyo allowed you to put them on her with no complaint, but soon began her whining when she began to feel the restricting feeling around her arms that was slightly limiting her movement.

"noo y/n, i don't need these. and they're so uncomfy!! i think i would play better without them.." she argued, scratching at the inside of her elbows to relieve the itching it caused.

knowing that your girlfriend was bound to try something outside of her comfort zone once she got into the flow of things, you decided it was the right decision to do everything in your power to help keep her from hurting herself while doing so. "just wear them please ji, i would feel much better seeing those on you," you refuted. it was true. you felt at peace knowing at least your girlfriend's precious joints were protected if not anything else.

she sighed out annoyedly, but ultimately complied to your requests only because she didn't want you to worry about her.

"thank you, my love," you said in satisfaction. you then reached into the cart of volleyballs behind you as jihyo slipped her shoes back on, squeezing a few to determine which one had enough air in it. grabbing the one you felt was best, you warmed up your wrist a bit by dropping the ball in front of you and striking it straight down, catching it once it came back up a couple times.

"okay, so first things first. you're gonna learn how to serve the ball," you said, leading her to the middle of the court facing the net. "the goal is to hit the ball over the net and onto the opponent's side of the court so that they can receive it and keep it in motion," you softly explained, repositioning her arms and legs into the perfect position for a proper serve.

jihyo picked up the skill quickly as you explained each step to her in full detail, making sure to critique her mistakes and show her the better way of executing her moves. within about 15 minutes of the first lesson, your girlfriend was already on her way to becoming the next star player for your team.

once she got at least 3 serves over the net, you decided she was ready to move onto the next step; receiving the ball. you showed her the proper way to hold her arms together and how to position herself under the ball to pass it to a teammate in front of her. you could tell jihyo was a natural at the sport as she was with any other activity she's ever tried.

after about an hour or so, her form was starting to get smoother and her reaction times were getting faster. but your energy needed replenishing and so did hers.

taking a short break together on the bleachers, you both had a water bottle in hand and shared the protein bar that jihyo had prepared earlier.

"do you wanna try peppering with me? i think you could be pretty good at it at this rate," you asked, sensing the way she was getting antsy to move onto something more advanced.

jihyo had no idea what exactly it was that you were asking her about, but she was eager to try it anyways. you put it in simple terms for her, explaining that it was a back and forth process of hitting and receiving the ball to each other. and just like that, hearing that she would be able to play against you in a way got jihyo excited again, the adrenaline giving her more energy than that protein bar ever did.

"okay! let's do it! come on!" jihyo exclaimed, throwing her bottle to the side and skipping back to the court while grabbing the ball. you smiled at how endearing she was and followed her soon enough, joining her across the same side of the court.

after another hour and a half of you two going at it, jihyo was seriously improving with the minimal coaching she had from you. it was honestly impressive how quickly she adapted to the flow of the game, but you expected nothing less of her.

deciding it was alright to push her a little further since she had all the protective gear in the world on, you picked up your pace a bit and spiked the ball harder, giving her less time to react and training her reflexes. obviously, jihyo played along effortlessly, getting herself hyped up by her newfound skill at volleyball. you could hear her cheer for herself everytime she successfully received the ball and sent it back in your direction.

but what you soon failed to realize was that the once amateur jihyo you knew 3 hours ago was gone. her alter ego had now taken over and fueled her with that insane ambition she had hidden away. as your eyes were too focused on watching her in case she fell, you completely failed to see the flying ball coming at your face at the speed of light.

bam.

you don't really remember what happened next, but it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. the world faded into a quick darkness as you felt something pushing against your face. that's when reality hit. or better yet, that's when you were hit.

jihyo had gotten carried away with her strength and sent the ball directly towards your lovely face with a perfectly executed spike. not knowing she was capable of that, she screamed out in pure terror when she saw your body fall backwards onto the shiny hardwood floor.

"holy shit! y/n!! oh my god, oh my god!? are you okay??!" she panicked, sprinting over to your side and crouching down to lay you onto her lap.

you could only croak out in pain and kept your eyes sealed shut as the bright fluorescent lights above you were too intense to take in at the moment.

jihyo repeatedly muttered out small apologies and cradled you as she looked over your face to see a big red spot that she left across one side.

"y/n, please.. i'm so sorry baby, please talk to me. do you know who i am?! how many fingers am i holding up?? what's your name? how old are you!" jihyo cried in distress. she cupped your cheek and gently tapped it with her thumb to try and get you alert and awake again.

slowly opening your eyes at the feeling of her soft touch, you blinked your eyes slowly as you adjusted to the bright lights, making out the faint figure of your girlfriend in front of you. "i'm fine, ji, don't worry," you whispered in between groans. you reached a hand up to your forehead, feeling the tenderness as you ran your fingers over the surface. wincing slightly, you regained enough composure to inch your way up off of jihyo's lap, her arms coming behind your back to support your body.

"is there anything i can get you? maybe an ice pack or something?" jihyo said meekly. you could tell even through your disoriented state that she was feeling guilty. before you could even think of an answer, you could only bring yourself to thoughts of hurrying up and recovering so you could show her that it’s okay.

"uhh, yeah. yeah, there should be a um- gel pack in the freezer in the uh.. coach's room across the field," you stammered, squinting your eyes closed when the lights became too much again.

with no hesitation, jihyo got up and ran towards the door to follow your directions as you told her where to get the ice pack.

"you stay right there, okay? don't move," jihyo demanded. you could only nod your head weakly, shifting yourself to slowly lay back down on the cold tile beneath you. the sound of the metal door closing behind jihyo reverberated throughout the open space.

the pain across your face was getting worse as time went by, the throbbing you felt on your eyebrow in sync with your heartbeat.

as your mind started to process what just happened, your brain began to flash images of the ball smashing your face in repeatedly, making you cringe at how dumb you probably looked. with your knees propped up and your feet on the ground, you held your hands to your face and rapidly kicked the floor in a temper tantrum, simultaneously wailing at the replaying moment in your head.

you silently cursed yourself out for allowing yourself to be so careless and possibly giving your girlfriend the ick by seeing you get your face contorted with the sheer force of impact.

shooting your body upright, you slid backwards on your hands towards the wall, leaning against it and rummaging through your bag to find your phone. after you found it, you quickly switched to the camera app to check the damage, already sensing how big the knot on your forehead was going to get in the next hour. sure enough, the large red and tender spot on the left side of your face was growing a lump. being in pure disbelief, you moved the camera further away to get your full face in frame, staring at yourself in shame and embarrassment. after a couple more seconds of examining yourself, you could only conjure up a scoff and put your phone down as soon as you heard the door open loudly again.

jihyo, who came in sprinting to your aid with an ice cold gel pack, was leaving a trail of condensation behind her as it was thawing in her hands. once again, you could only think about how dangerous it would be if she were to slip and fall on the water, but the continually throbbing pain on your face was making it difficult for you to speak up and scold her to be careful.

"here, put this on it for now. it should help the swelling go down," jihyo panted, clearly out of breath from running around outside trying to find the coach's office while being worried sick about you at the same time. she ran her thumb over the small bump forming on your eyebrow and cooed at how much pain you must've been in.

she gently pressed the ice pack to your forehead and kept whispering small apologies, her pretty face scrunched into the cutest concerned look you've ever seen. you weren't usually the type of person to like being taken care of like that, but seeing jihyo like this only made you want to get hurt again just to see that look on her face. but looking down slightly at her arms, you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she looked with those makeshift elbow pads she still had on.

"what's so funny? do you really think you should be laughing right now?" jihyo reprimanded.

you almost cackled in her face at her sternness, but quickly stopped and winced in pain instead when the pain in your face prevented you from forming a real smile.

jihyo tsked at you and told you to shut up, adjusting the ice pack to cover more area on your skin. "stop moving, would you?" you cleared your throat, "sorry it's just- you look crazy with those elbow pads on," you said, stifling a laugh. suddenly a slap landed on your shoulder which you didn't see coming since jihyo had both of your eyes covered with the ice pack. "don't be annoying right now, y/n. you were the one who made me wear them anyways.."

she took the ice pack off your face to quickly slide the stupid pads off her arms, which she struggled to do. you helped her wiggle them off and threw them to the side as she pressed the cold pack back to your skin again.

"alright, alright," you surrendered. "wait. isn’t it me who’s supposed to be the one mad at you right now? given that you were the one who hit me in the face in the first place.."

your girlfriend paused and rolled her eyes at your smart comment, "why don't you just shut up and hold that to your busted ass face, how about that?" she said sarcastically, grabbing your hand to take over holding the pack against your head.

jihyo was pretending that she was okay by making jokes and getting annoyed at you, but in reality, you knew that she was beating herself up inside with the guilt of getting too carried away and hurting you. she's always wished that her competitiveness wasn't so intense since it could result in someone getting hurt just like you did.

besides the point, jihyo helped you stand up and grabbed your things and hers, sneaking away your keys from your bag's outer pocket with her empty hand.

she linked arms with you while your other arm was stuck covering the left side of your face with the freezing cold pack of blue gel. "let's go home and get you fixed up," jihyo said, reassuring you that she would make you feel all better. "oh, and i'm driving us home," she added, clearly not leaving any room for an argument.

"what? no. i'll drive," you argued anyways.

"y/n are you insane? you can't even see out of one eye right now, angel. i'm driving." jihyo made sure to emphasize the last part to you, unbeknownst to you as she already had your keys in her pocket.

the both of you continued arguing the whole way to the car, jihyo ultimately winning as she managed to get you towards the passenger side. but in the middle of your bickering, a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"oh! isn't that?-"

it was the same friend who you ditched earlier with the excuse that you were "too tired" to join her and your other friends in a scrimmage today.

"hi, stacy!" jihyo greeted, waving at your friend enthusiastically.

you hid your face away from stacy as you heard her voice get closer, already expecting her to tease you about your injury.

"hellooo, y/n! what are you guys doing here this late?" she asked innocently, inching her neck downwards to make eye contact with you since you had your head held down. "and- what happened to your face?"

you sighed, knowing there was no escape from this now. "oh i just.. i…" you stuttered, looking to jihyo for help.

she picked up your signal immediately, "oh! that? y/n just fell and hit her head, that's all," jihyo laughed awkwardly.

"uh huhh. so this is why you were 'too tired' to scrim with us tonight then, huh?" stacy asked sarcastically, getting uncomfortably closer to your face.

while snickering, you slapped the gel pack on stacy's face, causing her to wipe her face and gasp out in shock.

"shut up," you teased, playfully pushing your friend away.

after a few minutes of catching up, you three eventually said your goodbyes and waited to see stacy drive off before turning to open the car door.

"wait- what did she mean by you were 'too tired?'" jihyo asked, pulling you back by your arm.

"oh, yeah. i told the group earlier that i was gonna take the day off since i was tired. we were supposed to play a practice match against some teams today, but, i got to spend my time doing something better instead," you said, smiling down at her and admiring the way the moonlight reflected against her glassy eyes, moving a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead.

jihyo couldn't help but pull your face towards hers and smash your lips together, completely forgetting about the fact that your whole face was in the early process of bruising. your eyes widened and you moaned painfully against her lips, attempting to pull away from the grip she had on both of your cheeks.

luckily, she realized it and released you, apologizing hectically once again. "oh shit- oh my god i forgot! i'm sorry baby, you were too cute and i couldn't help myself," she explained.

"haven't you hurt me enough today??" you asked in an annoyed tone. you quickly regretted it though once you saw the pouty look on her face and the way she said she didn't mean to in that little whiny voice.

"i knowww, i know. i'm just teasing you, love," you reassured her, pulling her sweaty body in for another hug.

"you know, maybe you should wear the elbow pads next time. seems like you need them more than i do," jihyo mumbled against your chest.

her comment made you scoff incredulously, "i-" but before you could even formulate a comeback, she opened the car door and forced you into the seat, blocking out whatever you managed to say with ''lalala" and shushes instead.

as she closed the door on you and made her way over to the driver's seat, you sulked into the leather cushion and chuckled at the way the tables turned on you.

turns out you were the one needing the protecting that night.

[fallinforgyu]

ateez reaction to riling them up in public? like maybe with other ppl around n you tryna feel em up under the table or sumn or like, in a movie theater, that sort of thing...

anon i will kiss u on the forehead... bless u

hongjoong doesn't like pda. he wants to keep intimate moments intimate and would give you NO reaction if you tried to feel him up in public. he might even shoot you a look or directly tell you to stop. you'd think he's mad at you until the moment the door closes behind him and you're alone. "What exactly were you trying to do?" he'd ask, walking closer and closing in on you, "Start something you couldn't finish?" And then, just to remind you who's in charge, he'd tie you up. You're excited just to feel his hands on you, but don't get your hopes up - you're not gonna get to cum for at LEAST an hour. "How does it feel to be teased? It's not fun, huh baby?"

seonghwa... i actually think he would really love this. first of all i think he might be a bit of an exhibitionist so if you feel him up in front of one of the other members that's a HUGE plus. idk idk i have this very clear image in my head of seonghwa making eye contact with and smirking at the members while he's getting his neck kissed idk idk... anyway. as an aries mars this man probably LOVES quickies, so feeling him up in public would almost always lead to you bent over a sink in some sleazy public restroom, his hands all over you and his lips against your ear, saying shit like "This is what you wanted, hm? Pretty little slut." God and then he LOVES putting your panties back on and making you go about the rest of your day with his cum dripping out of you.

yunho plays along with it. the second he feels your hand brushing against his thigh at the movie theater, he leans over and presses his lips directly to your ear. "What are you doing, pretty girl?" He'd smirk, knowing damn well what you're doing. Well, two can play at that game. he'd put his arm around you, starting by stroking your hair and ear, then brushing the back of his fingertips down your neck. once you're nice and covered in chills, he'd gently grope the side of your breast, smirking and kissing the side of your head when you squirm. by the end of the movie, you're so worked up that you forgot the whole thing was your idea. but don't worry, yunho's gonna remind you of that every few minutes when he's overstimulating you at home later. "Come on, sweetie. You can cum one more time for me, can't you? You were so needy for me earlier."

i'm picturing a very specific scenario with yeosang. walk with me. you're at the mall with him and when you walk past a lingerie store, you think it's the perfect opportunity to tease him. you ask him to go to the store with you and he nods, trying to act as chill as possible about it. that is until you're holding up pretty sets against your body, asking yeosang if he thinks they'd look good on you. he'd be pretty quiet but he'd give you his honest opinion, blushing through the whole ordeal. your mall trip ends shortly after that because yeosang is suddenly in a huge rush to get home, begging you "Please put that red one on for me" as soon as you're home. have i mentioned i think yeosang loves lingerie? bc i do. "Drove me crazy to think about you wearing all of those pretty things for me," he'd breathe, biting your neck, "Just so I can make a mess of you in them."

god there's something so romantic about san. i really think teasing touches and stolen kisses are just things that come with loving him. even if you're just at a cafe having coffee and chatting, your fingertips brushing up and down his arm while you talk to him just feels so comfortable and right. he's the type to pull you into an empty alley and press you to the wall and kiss you with everything he has in his body just because he felt like it. i'm telling yall... post date sex with san goes CRAZY because you will have spent the entire date subconsciously working each other up. "You know just how i like it, baby. You know just how to make me feel good," he'd groan through slow, passionate strokes and deep kissing </3

mingi's first reaction is to get giggly. i think his body is so sensitive and he's a little bit ticklish, so feeling your hands on particularly sensitive parts of his body might make him a little squirmy. but just be patient, be gentle and keep going because in a few minutes he'll mellow out and really allow himself to feel your touches. his eyelids might get a little heavy, his eyes might glaze over a bit but he's in heaven allowing himself to be loved on. "Doing okay, handsome?" you'd ask and he'd snap out of it a bit. "That feels nice." he'd nod, a dopey smile on his face. ask him if he wants more and he'll be home and underneath you in a matter of minutes - a moaning, panting mess who loves nothing more than being the center of your attention.

we're kidding ourselves if we say that wooyoung is anything other than the one who would be teasing you. this man is THE teaser. was quite literally born to tease. he'd constantly be coming up with excuses to try to rile you up - sucking ice cream off your fingers after it dripped down the cone and onto your hand, running his hand up your thigh while you're trying to watch tv, slapping your ass when he walks past you, the list goes on. he wants to see just how far he can push you before you break. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? You gonna punish me? Or are you gonna admit to yourself that you liked it, hm?" yeah that's wooyoung.

jongho just wants to make sure your needs are taken care of </3 as soon as you start trying to feel him up it's "Hm? What's gotten into you, baby? Do you need me?" and best believe he will prioritize your needs over ANY function he's at. the minute you nod your head or give him that desperate look, he has you in the passenger seat of his car with his hand on your thigh. "I'm gonna turn you into a brat if I keep giving you whatever you want whenever you want it," he'd smirk, kissing you and sliding his hands up your skirt, "But how am I supposed to say no to you when you're this damn cute all the time?"

[f1fnatic]

LIAR ⤿ c. sainz 55

→ ( in which. . . ) you and carlos have been dating for three years. carlos started to grow distant. after charles shows you a picture of his infidelity, you catch him in the act after a day at work.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) cheater!carlos sainz x longtime!girlfriend!reader

→ (content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mentions of sex, language, yelling, cheating, alcohol consumption, angst

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was my first time writing angst/cheating. it was fun experimenting with this type of writing. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

"you fucking liar!" echoed through the otherwise quiet apartment. hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, another pair following the first close behind. was this what everything came to? walking out on your supposed soulmate after years together? how did you get here? and what did you do to deserve this?

one week prior ↴

you had noticed the distance growing. carlos was becoming closed off and almost secretive. he didn't confide in you as much as he used to. you didn't think twice about it and assumed it was something to do with work. ferrari had been going through a rough patch, both him and charles struggling to start or finish a race for the past three weeks.

you understood how stressful being a driver was. you had been around formula 1 for a while now, because of him. you and carlos met when he drove for redbull, in 2015. the two of you started dating shortly after in 2017.

you were always there for him, through thick and thin. through the blood, sweat, and tears. after every win, podium, loss, dnf, dns, etc. you understood how hard it was for him to perform well but not get the results wanted.

so, when you received a picture of carlos with another woman, a blond, on his lap, hands on his shoulders and lips touching, you were livid. charles had sent it to you, with a simple caption that read "i am sorry." it was the after-party of a not-so-successful qatar grand prix.

rage, confusion, sadness, and disgust coursed through your veins. the thought of him finding comfort in a woman who wasn't you made you sick. your hands shook, eyes blurred, and breath quickened.

you could not believe that carlos would ever cheat, especially on you. you had given him everything. love, attention, comfort, and compassion. and this is what he gave you in return? you had sacrificed so much to make him happy. you felt useless. had you thrown away six years of your life just to get cheated on? did he feel guilty? did he regret his choice to kiss a random girl? thoughts sped through your mind.

what did you do until he got home? your apartment no longer felt like a home. it felt gross and unnatural to be in there. to think that the person you shared it with was sharing a different room across the world. did he share your bed with someone else as well? the pictures of the two of you that hung on the wall seemed to mock you.

every passing minute became more and more painful. could you act like everything was fine when he eventually did get home? or would you lose it immediately the second he walked in through the front door?

unfortunately, you knew that only time would tell.

present day ↴

today was the day that carlos got home. you were at work, trying to distract yourself from the inevitable conflict about to occur. you reached the front door of your shared apartment. shaking hands held the key and you placed it in the lock and turned it. pushing open the door, the apartment was quiet, suspiciously quiet.

you noticed that the kitchen was a mess. plates and cooking utensils were in the sink, dirty and waiting to be washed. two wine glasses left discarded on the quartz bar. a bottle of red cabernet left opened and almost empty. one of the glasses had lipstick stains littered around the rim.

your heartbeat quickened. adrenaline began to pump through your body. you quickly toed off your shoes, and your feet ached after a long day. you also discarded your purse and jacket, making your way to your and carlos' bedroom.

as you got closer, you heard moaning. your heart dropped to your stomach. you opened the door as soon as you reached it. low and behold, it was carlos and the same blond from the picture that charles sent you. the blond was on top of carlos, head back and mouth open in euphoria. carlos had the same expression as her on his face.

tears immediately welled in your eyes and quickly fell. you felt defeated. it was one thing to see a picture of your boyfriend kissing another girl, but to catch him with that same girl in the bed that you shared, in the same bed that he fucked you in, was different.

finally, carlos opened his eyes and noticed you in the doorway. his hands found the blond's hips to stop her from moving. his eyes widened with guilt and surprise; mouth wide open in shock.

"y-y/n?!" he shouted. the blond turned to look at you and god, she was pretty. you partially understood why he did it. she covered herself with one of the loose sheets and unstrattled carlos, allowing him to get up.

"y/n, i can explain-" he starts.

"explain what, carlos?!" you shout, cutting him off. "how on earth can you explain me walking in on you fucking another girl in our bed?!"

"it was a simple mistake, mi amor, that's all." he tried to reason, smiling meekly. the nickname that once held so much love now held nothing. the name that made butterflies flutter in your stomach now made them sink.

"you fucking liar!" you screamed. "this was on purpose!" it echoed through the now quiet apartment. you turned your back on the pair and walked away. your hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, carlos' pair following yours closely behind.

"y/n, stop!" he yelled, grabbing your wrist and turning you around to face him.

"do not fucking touch me!" you say, yanking your wrist from his grip. the complete and utter audacity he had to try to attempt to explain why he cheated. "was i not enough for you? did i do something wrong? did i not fuck you the right way? did i not get you off fast enough? huh, carlos? what made you decide to throw away six years together huh? six fucking years!"

carlos stares at you, his brown eyes that you thought were breathtaking were now filling you with disdain. "tell me carlos!"

"i-i don't know why," he stutters, turning his gaze to the floor, taking a sudden interest in the hardwood paneling. "you were enough, you still are enough. please y/n, we can move past this. i was drunk and stupid, my judgement was clouded." he tries to reason, reaching to grab both of your hands.

"no, stop it. no amount of time can get me to forgive you for this. i will never forgive you, carlos." you said his name with such disgust that he flinched. "charles showed me a picture of you kissing her in qatar in a bar during an after-party. i have known for a week. but to think that you would take her into our home and fuck her?"

"wait, wait, wait. charles texted you?" carlos questioned. there was anger present in his voice. "why the fuck did he text you?" it seemed that he was upset at the fact that charles told you he cheated.

i scoff, crossing my arms. "unbelievable, you are unbelievable. you cheated on me and you are caught up on the fact that your teammate texted me proof? how much of an egotistical cunt do you have to be?"

"me? i'm the unbelievable one? you're the one walking out on me because of a stupid, drunken mistake." he says nonchalantly, glossing over the insult. it's almost like he didn't care that your relationship was ending.

"fuck you, carlos. i am done. we are done. do not call me, do not try to find me to convince me to come back to you." the tears were flowing vigorously down your cheeks. you knew your makeup was running, but you didn't care. "i am fucking done. thanks for nothing. i hope have fun fucking that slut and that you are happy with the choice you made." you finish, walking away through the home that once brought you so much joy to be in.

you gathered your things. purse, shoes, phone, coat, and keys. you would get everything else later. you opened the door and then slammed it once stepping outside. it was then when every emotion hit you at once. violent sobs wracked your body making you shake. you slid down the door hugging yourself. you could not believe it. you don't know if you ever would.

after eventually calming down, you decide to call the one person who made you aware of this whole situation. you clicked on his contact's name and then the call button. you placed your phone on your ear to hear two rings before he picked up.

"hello? y/n? why are you calling." asked the voice.

"charles," you pause. the question of 'was this a good idea?' ran through your head. but, at this point you didn't care. carlos and what he thought was the least of your worries. "i need you to pick me up."

low key happy with this one, wrote it last night and like where it went. i think i might turn it into a charles x reader :P let me know in the comments if you want that :) thank you for reading! as usual, feedback and requests are welcome; make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[thealtoduck]

Just A Feeling

Billy Batson x Male Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Billy starts crushing on the new guy in class…

Y/h/c = Your hair colour, Y/s/c = Your supersuit colour, Y/e/c = Your eye colour

(S.E.S. you will always be famous)

——

Billy turned slightly at his desk as he watched you. You had transferred to his school just a couple of weeks ago and ever since your first day he’d found himself glancing towards you every now then, just to look at you.

You had been asked to sit beside him on your first day and when the lesson started, you had turned to him asking if he had an extra pen you could borrow, to which Billy had mostly stumbled over his words until he finally said ”No”.

Making you ask another guy at the other desk next to yours for one, from who you then received a pen. And Billy found himself thinking why would you accept another guy’s pen, that guy sucks, you were way to good for his pen and way to pretty.

That’s why he was currently lightly glacing at you, you’re pretty. He didn’t really know anything about you, he knew your name was ”Y/n L/n” and that you were at one point in need of a pen (not anymore).

Once class finished he watched you pick up your bag and make your way to lunch. Billy went and dropped of his stuff at his locker before also making his way to the lunch hall. He grabbed a tray and once he’d gotten his food he looked around for a place to sit. That’s when he saw you…

You were alone at a lunch table, looking at your phone. Billy gathered himself before walking over to you. ”Hey” he said. ”Hi” said you. ”Is it alright if I sit with you?” he asked. ”Sure, go ahead” you said with smile, that damn smile, it would be enough to knock Billy off his feet even as Shazam.

”It’s William? Right” you asked. ”Yeah… but most people call me Billy” he insisted. The two of you sat in awkward silence for a while until Billy found some courage and asked ”So, uhm- where did you move from?”

”Gotham” you answered making Billy immediately utter a ”Yikes” followed by a quick ”Sorry… I didn’t mean that”. You gave him a look and at first he thought he had offended you but you let out a laugh and said ”Fair reaction, I guess” making him met out a chuckle too.

”Why’d you move?” he then asked. ”Oh, my dad got relocated for work” you explained. You and Billy continued talking all through the school day until It’s end. After it ended as you were walking out you said ”Give me your phone”, Billy did and you typed your number in to his phone.

”Text me” you said before walking off towards a stopped car, giving him a wave before you got in to the car and it drove off. Billy looked at the new contact on his phone and went in to the text app…

Billy typed ”Hi”.

Only to moments later receive a ”Hi” back.

When he got home he immediately started ranting to his brothers and sisters of his new classmate. They were silent for a couple of seconds until Mary questioned ”Billy… are you trying to tell us you have a crush on this guy. Billy paused for a moment ”What?! No. I was just telling you he has these really pretty eyes-…”. Then realisation hit ”Uhm… yeah actually I think I might be…”.

——

Later that night…

Billy as Shazam was out patrolling the city when he saw something down in an alley way that looked kind of suspicious, a thick fog… or some kind of smoke was rising fom the alley. Once he reached the alley the fog was starting to clear.

Several guys layed on the ground twisting in pain. There was a van with it’s back doors open, Billy peaked inside, seeing loads and loads and LOADS of weapons. These guys were selling illegal weapons. But who had stopped them. He looked around and as more of the mist cleared he saw a figure in a y/s/c suit.

He made his way closer ”Did you take care of these guys?” He asked the figure turned around, his face covered by a mask, y/e/c eyes visible through the eye holes. The mysterious figure didn’t answer.

Billy observed him, the figure was of a smaller stature than him, atleast as Shazam, otherwise he was about the same height as him. His hair was a flattering y/h/c.

”Who are you?” Billy demanded.

The stranger opened his mouth saying the word ”Mist…��� then the mysterious man’s eyes started glowing blue and a new coat of thick fog swept over the two. And as it disappeared letting Billy see again… Mist was gone.

[maxsimagination]

𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 - 𝙞.𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙨, 𝙢.𝙡𝙚𝙤𝙣

summary: a combination of this and this.

-> !! strap use, fingering, oral sex !!

-> irene is 32, mapi is 28 & reader is 24

-> i apologise if any of the translations are wrong

𖦹 masterlist

it was a normal wednesday morning, training with the team and team bonding night later on.

it was my second season with the club, transferring in from bayern munich, all of the girls were really nice and welcoming when i first joined. since i was on the younger side of the team, i spent most of my time with claudia. but claudia was best friends with patri, who spent her time with alexia and irene, who were always with mapi.

it was like a chain reaction, so through knowing claudia, i’d met all the older girls.

i honestly thought i fit in much better with the older players rather than the younger ones. i wasn’t the type to always pull pranks on my teammates like they did, preferring to work on my techniques.

when i got to training that morning, mapi was waiting out the front like usual. she’d driven me to training once last year when i first came and ever since then we’d made it a tradition. this time however, irene was standing with her.

“hola chicas. irene, me alegro de verte.” (hello girls. irene, nice to see you.)

i walked into the grounds and the two older women followed me in. the whole team was already there, most just finishing up their breakfast. i put my things in the locker rooms with everyone else’s and joined the team for our pre-training talk.

jona had us doing a bunch of drills today, and then split us off into two teams. we played a couple rounds; alexia, patri and i were all together while claudia, irene and mapi were on the opposition.

as a striker, i naturally had irene and mapi defending for their lives while i ran rings around them and scored a few goals.

i even managed to nutmeg both the women at least once, throwing out a sassy “catch me if you can, chicas!” to mess with them even more.

jona was proud of my efforts, telling me i’d been on fire lately. that made my ego swell of course, and clearly mapi and irene weren’t too happy about how i’d beat them.

but we finished training a couple hours later and were reminded by alexia that there was team bonding at hers tonight. she normally organised these events, being the captain she took it upon herself to keep everyone on good terms with each other.

tonight was a casual event, ale told everyone to wear something comfy, nothing too fancy as we were just playing some games and watching a movie or two. so when i got home, i plopped my stuff down on my couch and headed towards the bathroom. time for an everything shower.

i washed my hair, shaved in all the right places and did my full skincare routine.

by the time i’d finished that, it was around 5:00, i had to be ready in half an hour. mapi had promised to pick me up, insisting she drive us to ale’s.

as for clothes, i’d opted for a slightly oversized tshirt and a pair of bike pants that just happened to accentuate my ass. soon, i heard a knock on my door. knowing it was mapi, i grabbed my phone and rushed to the front door.

“hola mapi. gracias por llevarme.” (hello mapi. thank you for driving me.)

“ah, it’s no problem.”

we walked down to her car, when i noticed someone sitting in the front seat. irene.

“hola irene.” (hello irene.)

i jumped in the backseat, greeting the other woman when i got in.

“hello yn.”

irene’s accent gave me shivers, it was the perfect combination of soft and gravelly.

mapi drove us all to alexia’s house, where at least three other cars were already parked on or near her driveway. we hopped out of the vehicle, traipsing up to the front door where i knocked on it twice.

alexia opened it, a giant grin on her face.

“chicas! welcome, please come in.”

she ushered us all inside to join the rest of the group. apparently we’d been some of the last to get there, everyone else all riding with each other.

we spent the evening playing some board games, watching a movie and just chatting to each other about anything and everything. it was close to 9 at night when i ducked into the kitchen to get some water.

i stood, sipping from a glass against alexia’s kitchen counter, when someone joined me in the kitchen.

“ya sabes tu culo se ve muy bien en esos pantalones cortos.”

(y’know your ass looks great in those shorts.)

that same gravelly voice from earlier spoke up, and i whipped around to see irene standing there.

“por que gracias, irene.” (why thank you, irene.)

the woman walked forward, meeting me where i stood by the sink. she was taller than me by a bit and i had to tilt my head up to see her properly.

her eyes were sparkling with what seemed to be desire, and judging by the way she raked her eyes up and down my body, i was correct. she edged closer and closer, eventually standing inches away from me.

“me gustaría mucho besarte ahora.”

(i would really like to kiss you now.)

“so kiss me.”

neither of us missed a beat, irene diving down to connect our lips in a messy and passionate manner. irene had spun us around then, lifting me up and placing me on the kitchen island.

“yn? where’d you- oh my god.”

we broke apart at the sound of a voice, mapi’s voice to be exact. however irene wasn’t fazed.

“maria, perfect timing. would you like to join?”

my eyes almost bulged out of my head at her words, getting it on with one person was okay but two? completely different territory.

“actually, yea. but not on ale’s kitchen island. shall we head home?”

this time she was asking me, so i quickly nodded my head and irene lifted me down from the island. we slipped back into the lounge where the other girls were, letting them know we were heading home.

they all bid us farewell, alexia yelling out not to be late to practice tomorrow morning.

the drive was short and full of tension, which made it feel longer. i was sat in the backseat again while the two older women were in the front, seemingly communicating through their facial expressions.

we did not return to my apartment, instead going to irene’s apartment. she made quick work of unlocking the door and letting us all in. mapi entered last, locking the door after herself.

as the lock clicked shut my nerves really started bouncing around. irene had clearly noticed and grabbed my hand.

“no tenemos que hacer esto si no estás cómodo.”

(we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.)

her voice soothed my nerves a little bit and i smiled up at her.

“no i want this.”

her gentle smile turned into a wolfish grin as this time she took my hand and led me down to a room, which i figured to be hers. mapi was directly behind me, hand on the small of my back for comfort.

when we walked in, irene spun me around and pinned me against the wall, hands above my head. her lips were just centimetres away from mine, teasing me everytime she got too close.

finally she kissed me, and i melted at the contact.

she pulled away and started littering little kisses and licks down my neck to my collarbone. once she was cut off by my shirt she tugged it up and over my head before going back to sucking little hickies on my neck and chest.

my head was tilted to the side, too caught up in irene’s movements to realise that mapi had come forward and pressed her lips to my own.

it took me a second to realise that there were two women kissing me.

irene had dropped her hold on my arms, using them to take my bra off, so i used that to my advantage and tugged on mapi’s shirt, signaling i wanted it off. she smiled into the kiss and pulled back, taking her shirt off and revealing she wasn’t wearing a bra either.

she kissed me again and my hands travelled down to her chest, tracing patterns along her skin before twirling her nipples between my fingers.

she yelped a little at the intrusion, but soon it was my turn because irene had kissed down to my own breasts, swirling her tongue on each nipple and promptly pinching them.

i groaned into mapi’s mouth, as she went back to kissing me. irene continued to suckle on my breast, giving the other one the same attention with her fingers. soon enough, her fingers then trailed lower, down to the waistband of my bike pants.

irene removed her lips from me, looking up at me in question. i looked back down at the pause of movement and gave her the go ahead.

she didn’t waste any time, hooking her fingers in the elastic and tugging the clothing down my legs. mapi had now taken advantage of my unattended nipples, moving her fingers to play with the nubs.

meanwhile irene had knelt down, hands pulling at my thighs. she dipped a finger into my folds, which came out coated in wetness. she sucked the juices off, before pressing a finger lightly onto my clit. that elicited a moan from me and one of my hands went to irene’s hair, pushing her face towards my heat.

she obliged, spreading my legs further and dipping her tongue through my folds. again drawing a moan from me, her tongue slipped down to push lightly against my hole before moving back up to suckle on my clit.

mapi was still kissing me and twirling my nipples between her fingers, which only added to my heightened excitement.

my eyes were closed, squeezed shut, while the only thing i could focus on was the feeling of irene’s mouth on my cunt. just then she brought her fingers up to my entrance, pushing one in.

i gasped at the intrusion, but that quickly melted into a moan when she started pumping it in at a steady rhythm. she added a second finger, stretching me out a little and setting a strong pace, while still toying with my clit in her mouth.

i could tell i was approaching my orgasm, the little coil had started to tighten in my stomach.

“‘m close. keep going, please.”

i was begging, that’s how much i wanted to come. the older woman below me didn’t utter a word, just kept her fingers pumping and mouth suckling.

it wasn’t long before i was practically on the edge, anymore and i’d fall off.

“i’m gonna cum, please can i cum?”

“go ahead, bebita.”

it was mapi who’d answered this time, i had almost forgotten that she’d been playing with my nipples and placing hickies all over me.

then i was coming all over irene’s face. she clearly didn’t care and was lapping it up like it was the last thing she’d ever eat.

once i’d come down from my high, irene picked me up and brought me over to her bed.

“estas bien, amor? lo hiciste muy bien.”

(are you okay, love? you did so well.)

i was tired, flopped on the bed like a rag doll just trying to get my energy back.

“sí, estoy bien. segunda asalto?”

(yes, i’m okay. round two?)

mapi had come to lie on the bed behind me, resting her upper body against the headboard and her legs splayed out on the mattress.

irene then walked over to a small bedside table and opened the drawer.

she pulled out a thick black silicone dick, attached to a harness.

“think you can take this?”

i nodded eagerly, propping myself up on my elbows.

“on your hands and knees. you’re going to make maría come, while i fuck you from behind.”

there was no arguing with her harsh tone. i scrambled onto my knees, kneeling in front of mapi. she’d managed to get her sweats off then, leaving her naked on the bed.

i looked back at irene, who was securing the harness.

“don’t look at me, get started.”

i didn’t think twice, arching my back and shoving my face in between mapi’s legs to lick a long stripe up her cunt. she instinctively widened her legs for me, grinding her hips towards my face.

i could feel irene up behind me then, the tip of her strap pressing against my entrance. she manoeuvred it so the tip was half in, then slowly pushed the rest in.

the girth of the silicone toy stretched me wide, i let out a little whine at the slight pain.

however irene continued, she set a slow pace to start, thrusting in then pulling out. thrusting in, pulling out.

i was still buried in between mapi’s legs, lapping at her clit, and pushing my tongue against her entrance every so often. her hands hand found their way to my hair, grasping it in her long fingers and pushing my face further into her cunt.

irene sped up gradually, until she was fully fucking me from behind. you could hear the slaps from her strap connecting with my ass every time she thrusted forward.

“‘m close, again. please don’t stop.”

i lifted my head to plead irene to keep going.

“make maría cum first. then you can cum.”

irene denied my pleads, slowing her thrusts slightly as i, desperately, licked, suckled and fucked mapi.

my hand, both of which were holding mapi’s legs wide open, came down to push into mapi’s entrance. i started with two fingers immediately, which left her whining before that turned into a moan.

i could tell she was so close, constantly grinding down on my face, chasing her own high.

it didn’t take long before she came crashing down, spreading her juices all over my face. i licked them all up, before pulling my fingers out and sucking the wetness off them too.

at the same time, irene had sped up again, added her own fingers to my clit, rubbing deliberate circles against my nub. i could feel myself hurtling towards my orgasm, with the coil in my belly tightening quickly.

“i’m coming- can i cum?”

“yes bebita, cum for me.”

irene praised me, thrusting into me hard and fast to bring me to the edge.

i fell over that edge just as quickly, letting my high crash over me like a wave. irene slowed down her pace, fucking me through the orgasm.

then she slowly pulled out, unclipping the harness and setting it down on her table.

“mis buenas chicas. estoy muy orgullosa de ti.”

(my good girls. i’m so proud of you.)

irene went to grab a damp washcloth and came back to clean both me and mapi up, pressing kisses on both our foreheads.

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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Captain John Price's wife, a trained assassin, is about to go on a mission, but she has only one thing on her mind. Her husband. The man who didn't know about her secret job…

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Words: 2850

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty, death (target got killed)

Part 1: Wife Meets Friend | Part 2: (you are reading it) | Part 3: Wife In Danger | Part 4: Husband Saves Wife | Part 5: Husband And Wife

The next morning, you turned in your bed, arm moving towards John’s side, only to find out that he was not in bed. No. By the smell of coffee that lingered in the air, you knew that he was in the kitchen. You dressed quickly and headed downstairs, finding him at the table with a steaming mug in hand, flipping through a newspaper.

“Morning.” He greeted with a warm smile as you entered the kitchen. His eyes brightened as he saw you, and he set the newspaper down to focus on you.

“Morning.” You replied, returning his smile and walking over to pour yourself a cup of your favorite drink. The aroma was comforting, like a small anchor to normalcy after the day you'd had. “You’re up early.”

“Old habits.” John said with a shrug, taking another sip from his mug. “Couldn't sleep much, so I figured I'd get a head start on the day.”

You nodded, though you wondered if his restlessness had anything to do with you. Did he sense that something was off? You tried to push the thought aside. “Any plans today?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d get some work done, maybe catch up on a bit of paperwork.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “What about you?”

You sipped your hot drink, carefully considering your words. “Just some errands around town, then I might drop by the office for a bit. We’ve got a few deadlines coming up.”

John chuckled, shaking his head. “Always working. You should take a day off sometime, you know? Relax a little.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try to remember that.”

As the day wore on, you found yourself reflecting on the life you’d built with John. Your marriage was strong, built on love and trust… Trust that you were constantly betraying by keeping your true self hidden. Only because you wanted to protect him from your job. The world you operated in was dangerous, filled with secrets and lies, and the less John knew, the safer he would be.

In the afternoon, you decided to step out to run the errands you’d mentioned earlier. You kissed John’s and left, promising to be back soon. As you drove through the streets of your neighborhood, your thoughts drifted back to Kate’s visit. It had gone well, but the pressure was building. How much longer could you keep this up?

You stopped at a small park on your way back home, needing a moment to clear your head. Sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree, you watched as families played with their children, couples walked hand in hand, and joggers passed by with their headphones in. It was a picture of a peaceful and normal life… A life you never had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it and glanced at the screen, seeing a message from an unknown number. You read the brief text: We need to talk. Usual place. 1900.

You frowned, recognizing the message. It was from one of your CIA contacts. You took a deep breath, quickly typing out a response. You were used to it by now, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. You needed to find a way to slip out tonight without raising John’s suspicions.

When you returned home, John was still in his study. You paused at the doorway, watching him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, so content in his element.

“You’re back.” John said, looking up with a smile as he noticed you standing there.

“Yeah, just finished up.” You replied, stepping into the room. “How’s your day going?”

“Not bad.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “Got a lot done. I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight, you know, to unwind a bit. What do you think?”

Your heart sank. John rarely suggested going out. But tonight, of all nights, he’d chosen to go on a small little date with you. Great… You couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion, but you also couldn’t afford to miss the meeting.

“That sounds nice.” You said carefully, already trying to figure out a way to work around it. “But how about we raincheck for tomorrow? I’m a little tired from running around all day.”

John studied you for a moment, eyes filled with concern. “You sure you’re alright? You’ve seemed a bit off since yesterday.”

You stepped closer to him. “I’m fine, really. Just a little worn out. Tomorrow would be better, I think. We could make it a proper date night.”

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap. “Alright, if you’re sure. Tomorrow it is.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Of course you felt guilty, but you had no other choice. “Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his neck softly. “For understanding.”

“Always.” John murmured, holding you close. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You closed your eyes, wishing more than anything that you could tell him the truth, that you didn’t have to hide this part of yourself from the man you loved. But you couldn’t - you wouldn’t - risk his safety for your own peace of mind.

Later that evening, after you’d shared a quiet dinner at home, you waited until John had settled into the living room with a book before making your move. You casually mentioned needing to check on something at the office, using one of your excuses. John offered to come with you, but you gently declined, insisting it wouldn’t take long.

He kissed you goodbye, watching as you left with a small smile, completely unaware of the true nature of your errand.

You drove through the city. The usual place was a parking garage downtown, one of the many locations you used for these kinds of meetings. You arrived a few minutes early, parking in a shadowy corner and waiting.

A black SUV pulled up next to your car shortly after, and a man in a dark suit stepped out, his expression serious. You recognized him immediately - Agent Daniels, one of your primary contacts at the CIA.

“Evening, Mrs. Price.” He greeted you with a curt nod.

“Daniels.” You replied. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a situation.” He said, handing you a slim folder. “A high-value target is back on the grid. We need you to handle it.”

You opened the folder, scanning the information quickly. The target was a known arms dealer with ties to several terrorist organizations - a dangerous man with a long list of enemies. “This is a priority?”

“Top priority.” Daniels confirmed. “He’s planning to move a shipment in the next 48 hours. We need to shut it down before it reaches its destination.”

You nodded, already planning your approach. “What’s the location?”

“He’s holed up in a compound outside of the city. We’ve got a team on standby, but you’ll be leading the operation.”

You closed the folder, meeting his gaze. You sighed, not wanting to lead the operation as it meant that you also had to lead a team. You preferred to work alone, but apparently you had no other choice. “… Understood. I’ll take care of it.”

Daniels gave you a brief, approving nod. “Good. You’ll be briefed on the full details tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

With that, he got back into the SUV and drove off, leaving you alone in the garage. You took a deep breath. This was just another mission, another job to complete. But as you started your car and headed home, you had one thought. Balancing your secret life was becoming harder by the day, and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep the two worlds from colliding.

When you returned home, John was still in the living room, dozing lightly with the book resting on his chest. You paused in the doorway, watching him sleep, heart heavy.

You approached quietly, taking the book from his hands and setting it on the table. He stirred, opening his eyes slightly. “You’re back.” he mumbled, half-asleep.

“Yeah.” You whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “Go to bed, honey.”

He nodded groggily, allowing you to help him up. As you made your way upstairs, you felt the familiar pang of guilt, stronger than ever. You loved him more than anything, and yet, every day you deceived him, kept him in the dark about who you really were.

You two crawled into bed, and John pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could protect you from the world. But he didn’t know the truth - that it was you who was protecting him, shielding him from the bad guys during his missions.

The next morning, you were up before dawn. You moved quietly through the house, careful not to wake John as you gathered your gear. Today’s mission was critical, and you couldn’t afford any mistakes. As you pulled on your tactical suit, your mind focused on the task ahead. There was no room for doubt or hesitation.

Before leaving, you slipped back into the bedroom, where John was still fast asleep. You stood by the bed for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so unaware of the dangerous things you were doing and going to do. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, whispering, “I love you” before turning to leave.

The drive to the briefing location was uneventful. The compound outside the city was heavily guarded, and the target was known for being ruthless. But you’d faced worse.

When you arrived at the location, Daniels and the rest of the team were already there. They were gathered around a large table covered in maps and surveillance photos. You walked in, nodding to them.

“Glad you could make it.” Daniels said as you approached. “We’re ready to go over the plan.”

You nodded again, stepping up to the table. “Let’s get started.”

The briefing was quick and to the point. The target was using the compound as a staging area for an arms deal that could supply a dangerous faction with enough firepower to destabilize an entire region. The mission was simple in theory: infiltrate, neutralize the target, and destroy the shipment before it could be moved.

But as with all things in your line of work, the reality would be far more complex. The compound was well-fortified, with multiple layers of security and heavily armed guards. The risk was high, but so were the stakes.

“I’ll lead the assault team.” You said as you went through the details. “We’ll go in at night, under the cover of darkness. We’ll need to move quickly and quietly.”

Daniels nodded. “Agreed. We can’t afford to tip them off before we’re in position.”

The team spent the rest of the day preparing, double-checking equipment, and going over the plan until everyone knew their roles by heart. You kept your mind focused on the mission, pushing aside any thoughts of John and the life you’d have to return to after this was over. Now was not the time to think about it. You couldn't afford distractions. The mission required your full attention.

As night fell, the team geared up and prepared to move out. You stood with your team, your expression calm and composed. This was the part of your life you had to keep separate from John, the part he could never know about.

“Alright, everyone.” You said. “We go in fast and quiet. Stick to your roles, and we’ll get this done. Let’s move.”

The team moved out in silence; their vehicles drove them towards the compound. The tension in the air was palpable. This was what you were trained for, what you were good at. Every detail of the mission played out in your head as you approached your target.

When you arrived at the outskirts of the compound, the team disembarked, moving swiftly into position. You led the way, your movements precise. You reached the perimeter, where you signaled for the team to hold. From their vantage point, you could see the guards patrolling the area, their weapons at the ready.

“Snipers, take out the perimeter guards on my mark.” You whispered into your comm. “We move in as soon as they’re down.”

There was a tense silence as you waited for the right moment. You counted the seconds in your head, timing their approach perfectly. Then, with a single command, the silence was shattered by the sound of sniper rifles. The guards dropped one by one.

“Move.” You ordered, and the team advanced, slipping through the shadows as you made your way deeper into the compound.

The mission unfolded with ruthless efficiency. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each member playing their part flawlessly. You encountered resistance as you closed in on the target, but you were relentless.

As you breached the main building, you found the target in a makeshift command center, surrounded by his most trusted men. The firefight that ensued was intense, but you were unstoppable. In a matter of minutes, the room was cleared, and the target lay dead at your feet.

“Target neutralized.” You reported, your voice steady as you stood over the body.

“Good work.” Daniels replied over the comms. “Proceed with the secondary objective.”

You and your team quickly moved to the storage area, where you found the shipment of weapons. It was an impressive cache, enough to equip a small army. You planted the charges, setting the timer to ensure you had enough time to get clear.

“Charges set.” You confirmed. “We’re heading out.”

The team made their way back to the extraction point, the sound of distant explosions rumbling behind them as the charges detonated. The mission had been a success, but there was no time for celebration. You had to get out of the area before any reinforcements arrived.

As you reached the extraction point, sighed in relief. The mission was over, and soon you would be back home with John, back to the life you were desperately trying to protect.

The ride back was quiet, the team too exhausted to talk. You leaned your head back against the seat, closing your eyes for a moment. You thought of John, wondering if he was still up, if he was waiting for you. You couldn’t wait to see him, to feel his arms around you, after this mission.

When you finally returned to the base, you debriefed with Daniels and the rest of the team. As soon as the formalities were over, you took a shower fast and changed your clothes, before you headed straight for your car.

The drive home was a fast. All you could think about was John and your bed. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that the lights were still on in the house. John was still up, waiting for you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door.

When you walked inside, you found John in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as you entered, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

“You’re back.” He said, standing up to greet you.

You smiled, feeling the weight of the day’s events start to lift as she crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him. “I’m back.”

John held you close, his embrace warm and comforting. “I was starting to worry. Everything alright at the office?”

“Yeah.” You lied smoothly, pulling back to look at him. “Just some last-minute issues, but it’s all sorted now.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You sure you’re okay? You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to assure him. “Just tired, that’s all.”

John nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

He kissed your forehead and smelled your hair for a second. “Did you shower?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, there was a small smoothie incident at work. It was everywhere.” You lied at him, walking with him upstairs as he chuckled.

You changed into your pajamas and crawled into bed beside him. John pulled you close, his presence reminding you of what you were fighting for.

As you lay there in the darkness, listening to the sound of his breathing. The mission was over, and you were lucky that he wasn’t suspicious of any of your lies. But the fear still lingered in the back of your mind. The fear, that one day, John would find out the truth, and everything you’d worked so hard to protect would come crashing down.

But for tonight, you allowed to savor the warmth of John’s embrace and the quiet peace of your home. Tomorrow, you would face whatever challenges came your way. But tonight, you were just (Y/N) Price, the woman who loved her husband more than anything in the world.

And that was enough.

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[spnbabe67]

Make My World Go Black

Kinktober Day 4: Friends to Lovers (T.O.)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, Soft and Slow sex

Summary: While visiting Loretta's hometown, the newest Tornado Wrangler gets a request to come pick Tyler up. The problem? Boone has the hotel key.

Word Count: 2962

Authors Note: Title and fic based on the song "Black" by Dierks Bently. (And yes, I know the character in the GIF isn't Tyler Owens, I couldn't find one that matched what I had in mind)

The last thing Loretta expected when Boone texted her was a request to pick up Tyler from the local bar. Sure, The Tornado Wranglers were in her turf, back home in North Texas, but usually it was Boone or even Lilly’s job to nurse their leader back to soberness. She had just crawled into bed, the time nearing 11, when her phone started blowing up with texts from her coworkers. At first she’d tried to ignore it, eyelids heavy from a long day of driving, but after the 5th text she’d relented, squinting at the bright screen. Most of Boone’s text was incoherent, the videographer clearly had a couple drinks himself, but through his copious amounts of spelling errors and incoherent sentence structure she gathered his message: come get Tyler.

So, Loretta pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie and pointed the headlights of her two-door Chevy towards the bar Boone had managed to type clearly. Loretta knew the bar well, a little hole in the wall downtown. She wasn’t surprised Tyler chose this place out of the list she’d given him to celebrate a successful season. They’d raised a significant amount for the communities they visited throughout the last couple months, and as an end of season celebration Tyler suggested they come visit Loretta’s hometown. She was the newest member of the group, having joined towards the end of last season when The Tornado Wranglers were chasing an EF4 in the Panhandle and came across Loretta who was competing at the local rodeo. She’d always had an interest in inclement weather growing up in the southern portion of Tornado Alley she’d seen her fair share of tornados, seen the devastation they left in their wake. Here she was, a little over a year later, picking up her boss who she’d had a crush on since he swaggered up to her at the bar after she’d finished competing. 

“Hey Doll.” Tyler gave her a lopsided grin under the brim of his white cowboy hat as Loretta approached him.

Boone or whoever had sat him down on a bench outside the bar, thumping base still audible through the walls. The air was tinged with the smell of cigarette smoke and grilling meat; it was a familiar and comforting aroma.

“Hey yourself, Cowboy.” Loretta quipped, ready to mockingly scold Tyler for getting drunk but it died on her tongue as he pushed himself up from the bench with ease, no sign of alcohol impairment. When she had read Boone’s text, she’d assumed his request to come get Ty;er was urgent, that Tyler was drunk. But here he stood, not drunk at all, buzzed if anything. 

“Thanks for comin’ to pick me up. Boone and the others are drunk off their asses with no intentions of leaving any time soon. We all carpooled and Lilly refuses to let anyone drive her car, so.” Tyler trailed off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Loretta tried not to linger on how stupidly hot the motion was, eyes bouncing back up to his face from where they’d trailed down to his biceps that were outlined by his white t-shirt.

Loretta gave Tyler a half smile, nodding her head back to where her truck was parked. “Come on Cowboy, let's get you back. You drove more than I did today and I’m exhausted.”

Tyler huffed a laugh. “Me too.”

She let Tyler follow her as she hopped into the driver seat, cranking the key until her engine sputtered to life. “Alright, where did you guys hole up?”

Loretta looked over at Tyler as he whispered a curse under his breath, patting his pockets. “They only gave us one key and Boone has it.” 

He’d taken his hat off, ever the gentlemen, resting it on the dash. His sandy blonde hair was all mussed up, flat against his skull in some places and sticking out like a rooster's crown. His skin was tanned from years in the sun and it looked so damn smooth.

“I’ve got room.”

Tyler looked over at her, eyebrows raised and a half grin on his face. “Really? You got a spare room?”

Loretta tilted her head back and forth, bracing an arm over the back of the passenger seat as she backed out of the parking spot. “Eh, not exactly. But I have a queen sized bed and sleep like the dead.” She shrugged her shoulders as she drove them down the singular main drag through her small town. “Not like you have any other choice.”

“I can crash in my truck. Really Lor I don’t wanna impose on you.” Tyler tried to reason, sinking down lower in the passenger seat and Loretta had to force herself to keep her eyes on the road rather than watch as Tyler set his legs wider.

“It’s not imposing if I proposed the idea in the first place. So shut it and just let me take you home.” Loretta paused, feeling her cheeks go warm as she dragged a hand down her face to hide her sheepish smile. “That came out wrong.”

Tyler chuckled at her from the passenger seat, grinning at her. “Yes ma’am.”

“Fuck off.” Loretta jested, playfully shoving Tylers shoulder.

She ran a hand through her brown hair, tucking a couple errant strands behind her ear, trying to convince herself that the blush that still clung to her cheeks was because of her embarrassing statement and not because Tyler Owens was sitting in her truck and they were driving to her house. This felt right. The sky was full of stars, her house was far enough out in the country the light pollution was nearly nonexistent. With nothing but rows and rows of corn and soybeans with the occasional break for pastures for cows or horses, including the one that belonged to her acreage of land. The gravel kicked up around the wheels of her truck as she pulled down her driveway leading up to her raised ranch. 

“Well, this is me.” Loretta unbuckled her seatbelt, gesturing for Tyler to follow her. 

“It’s” She heard Tyler contemplate from behind her as she unlocked the front door. “Not gonna lie, it’s exactly what I was expecting.”

Loretta furrowed her brows as she let him into her house. “Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?”

Tyler stuttered, running a hand over his head. “Good! Good! It’s a good thing I promise.”

Loretta giggled as she guided him upstairs. “I’m just fucking with you.” She stopped at the hall closet, pulling out a towel and a washcloth and holding them out to him. “Bathroom is the last door on the right, I’ll go grab you some clothes.”

“Thanks Doll.” 

Loretta held her breath as Tyler took the linens from her, tucking them under his arm before leaning in. It was everything she could do to not let her eyes flutter closed as Tyler's face got closer to hers, the heat of him leaking onto her. Loretta felt Tyler’s lips brush her cheek and immediately her chest tightened, that feeling of longing flooding her brain and heart. As brief as the kiss was, him pulling away was quicker, punctuated by that heartbreakingly sweet smile only a country raised boy could pull off. 

Loretta internally sighed, returning his grin with a toothless one of her own, patting his back. “Go get cleaned up Cowboy.”

Once Tyler snicked the bathroom door shut, Loretta retreated to her own bedroom, rifling through her dresser drawers. She knew her brother kept a spare pair of clothes in there somewhere for whenever he came to visit. There! She pulled a pair of boxers and another t-shirt from the back of her bottom drawer that seemed to be the right size.

“Just me.” Loretta knocked a couple times on the bathroom door before cracking the door open. The shower was running, the water hot enough to steam up the bathroom. “I found a pair of boxers and a shirt you can borrow for the night.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Tyler said from behind the other side of the opaque shower curtain. 

Loretta hummed a response, fleeing the bathroom in the most nonchalant fashion she could manage, closing the door behind her. She let out a sigh, shaking her head trying to get rid of the images of Tyler naked not 5 feet from her separated only by the door and the shower curtain. He is probably soaking wet, lathered up with soap. No! Loretta went back to her own room, changing out of her sweatshirt and peeling off her jeans, changing them for a pair of sleep shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt from her alma mater. 

She turned the lamp on the bedside table on crawling under the covers, picking up the book she’d been meaning to finish, needing something to distract her from her less than pure road her thoughts her headed down. Absolutely not! He is your best fucking friend, your coworker! You fucking him would just make everything worse. 

Loretta’s eyes snapped up from the book cradled in her lap when she heard the bathroom door creak open and Tylers footfalls bring him into her room. She felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Tyler, dressed in just boxers and a shirt in her doorway. Sure, Loretta had seen him as well as the other Tornado Wranglers in various stages of undress. Chasing twisters required a level of get-up-and-go that didn’t leave time to worry about modesty. But it was the fact that he was here, in her room, about to sleep in her bed, that had her wanting to know just how good his muscled body would feel under her hands, against her body.

“Feel better?” Loretta managed to say, dipping her gaze back to her book to keep from ogling the man.

Tyler hummed somewhere from her right as she felt the bed dip under his weight as he climbed in beside her. “Nothing like a hot shower at the end of the day.”

It was Loretta’s turn to hum a noncommittal response, not trusting her mouth to filter the thoughts circling in her brain.

Tyler must have taken her minimal response as her being upset because his hand landed on her arm, causing her to flinch. “Lor, you okay? I can sleep on the floor, or on the couch.”

Instantly Loretta felt guilty, setting her book back on the nightstand.”No, no, no. Sorry, I’m just super tired. And don’t be spewing that bullshit. I’m not about to let you sleep on the couch let alone my floor.”

Tyler raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Loretta crinkled her nose at him,offering him a soft smile. She reached over, turning out the light with a quiet click, flooding the room into darkness save for the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. She let out a sigh as she settled on her side facing Tyler, watching him do the same. Despite her bed being a modest Queen,Tyler was nearly chest to chest with her.

Loretta was glad the room was dark because she was sure her face was flushed red. The way the moonlight glanced off his face made her think Tyler looked like an actor in a black and white film, all James Dean with a titch of Marlon Brando.

“Hey Lor?”

“Hmm?”

Loretta could sense Tylers hesitation, the apprehension of her reaction to whatever he wanted to say. She felt him shift his arm like he was gonna reach out and touch her but the sensation of his hand against her arm never came, much to Loretta’s disappointment.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Loretta blinked, then blinked again, trying to process what Tyler just said. She huffed a laugh, thinking Tyler was joking. “You sure you didn’t have anything to drink Ty?” 

“Yeah, I am.” There was no mistaking the seriousness in his voice, no mistaking the way he was looking at her. “‘Cause I wanted to be completely sober when I did this.”

It was like Tyler was in slow motion, the way he carefully brought his hand up to cup Loretta’s face, thumb stroking the line of her jaw as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Fireworks erupted in her belly at the feeling of finally having his mouth on hers after months and months of hopelessly pining. Well, not really hopeless now is it? Because here he was, deepening the kiss as she willingly opened her mouth to him. Part of her had a hard time believing this was real, that maybe this was just a dream. A really good, really real feeling dream. But the other part was hyper aware of the fact that one of Tyler's bare thighs had slid between her own, the hand not brushed against her cheek had slid to her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

Loretta felt like she was on cloud nine, a high not even Boone’s weed could touch. She threaded her fingers through his hair, whimpering as Tyler’s tongue swept into her mouth. His thigh was solid muscle between her legs, rubbing up against the ache that had slowly started to grow there. Loretta let out a small moan as Tyler’s hand slipped down to palm her ass, rocking her onto his thigh. Loretta moaned Tyler’s name as his lips made a hot trail of sloppy kisses down her jaw to her neck. 

“I know, Baby, I know.” Tyler murmured against her neck, his hands sliding under her long sleeve shirt, thumbs stroking the planes of her belly. “Let me make this feel good.”

Loretta arched her back, helping Tyler slip her shirt off before his hand pressed against her stomach, laying her flat on her back. She whimpered as the cold air hit her bare chest, her nipples hardening. The cold was short lived as Tyler's hot mouth closed around the right one, his hand kneading the other, pulling a gasp from her lips. Her hand shot to his head, holding his face to her chest. She arched her back, chasing the feeling of his tongue circling around the sensitive bud, his left hand tweaking and pinching the other, every action had wetness pooling in her shorts. 

Tyler pulled off of her breasts, a line of saliva connected her nipple to his lips as he kissed his way back up her body until his lips met hers again more heated this time. Loretta slid her hands under Tyler's shirt, pulling it up and off, letting her explore the soft ridges of his abdomen. As Tyler rolled them over back onto their sides, Loretta became aware of something hard poking against her lower stomach. A very large, hard something. Everything in her became focused on the fact that Tyler’s hands had slipped back down to her hips, pushing her shorts down. Loretta reached out, slipping her hand down Tyler’s boxers causing him to curse under his breath.

He reached down himself, shimmying out of his boxers until they were naked. Loretta kissed Tyler deeply as he ran the fat head of his cock through her soaked folds, hiking her top leg high on his hip. 

“Fuck, baby you’re so wet for me.” Tyler muttered against her mouth between kisses, rutting himself against her until the head caught on her core.

Loretta’s mouth fell open as the head of Tyler’s cock slid into her, Tyler hissing through his teeth at how tight she gripped him. His fingers dug into the plush of her ass and thigh, holding her leg up so that he could slot his hips between her legs. Loretta let out a keening moan as Tyler slid in and in and in, filling her until she wasn’t sure she could take it anymore from the amount of arousal coiling in her stomach. She gripped his bicep as Tyler settled into an easy pace, short and slow thrusts that had her moaning breathily every time his hips slapped against her own. 

“Takin’ me so good. Feel so good, Baby. Been wanting to do this for so long.” Tyler mumbled praises against her mouth as he fucked into her, his fat cock brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside her.

“Tyler.” She moaned feeling her climax starting to build

“I know, Baby. Me too. Let me feel cum for me, Doll.”

Tyler kept fucking into her at the same pace, slipping a hand between them to rub small circles on her clit. The sensation of his calloused thumb against her clit sent her over the edge, her pussy walls clamping down on him as her orgasm crashed over her in waves of euphoria. Tyler’s own thrusts became uneven and sloppy as he came, burying himself inside her as his cum spurted deep into her pussy. 

Loretta let out a shaky breath, smiling as she lazily kissed Tyler. Tyler gently shifted his hips, letting his softening cock slide out of Loretta with a low groan. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing his cheekbone as she pulled away from him enough to admire his face. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while, huh?” She teased.

“Mm.” Tyler hummed, pressing a kiss to Loretta’s shoulder. “Ever since I saw you after that rodeo last year. Just never knew you felt the same.”

Loretta huffed a laugh, stroking her fingers through his hair. “What about your saying.”

“My saying?” Tyler looked up at her from kissing her collarbone. 

“If you feel it?” Loretta grinned, watching Tyler’s confused expression morph into a grin of his own.

“Chase it.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightshifter | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, hostage situation

Word Count: 5149

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You eyed Dean angrily as he flirted with the attractive woman in front of him dressed as an FBI agent. You knew he was teasing you, and it was pissing you off. You had long since finished your interrogation of the store’s manager. Helena had apparently been a patron of the store for years. Then, one day, she went crazy; the police caught her clearing out the jewelry store’s cases and the safe before shooting someone in the face and killing herself in her bathtub after the crime. You had a sneaking suspicion you were dealing with a shapeshifter; a monster that you were quite over dealing with.

Dean approached you, triumphantly waving the piece of paper with the phone number he’d gotten from the woman he was interviewing.

You snatched it out of his hands. 

“Aw, you jealous?” he teased, leaning into you.

You deadpanned, “Keep it professional, Agent Hetfield, wouldn’t want the bureau to hear about this, right?” You ripped the paper up and shoved its tatters into your blazer pocket.

He deflated slightly, but still smirked at you. “I’m gonna make you crack, sweetheart, just wait.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, turning away from him and heading out to the Impala. Admittedly, you were strutting a little bit to tease him.

Sam met you at the car, and the three of you drove to the home of the man whose police statement had been a mix of sci-fi nerd gibberish and the only eye-witness account of the incident.

As you approached the small house, Sam began talking about another piece of the case. “Uh, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago.”

Dean raised a brow. “Same M.O. as the jewelry store?”

“Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide.”

“The guy, Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?” Dean questioned.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place.”

“Jesus,” you grimaced.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. He knocked on the screen door. “Mr. Resnick?” A bright flood light turned on, momentarily blinding you.

You raised a hand in front of your eyes. “Holy—”

Sam was apparently unfazed. “FBI, Mr. Resnick.”

Through the screen door, a chubby, nerdy-looking man in his late twenties approached. “Let me see the badge.”

You slapped your badge against the screen next to Sam’s and Dean’s. 

Mr. Resnick, whose first name was Ronald, squinted at them carefully. “I already gave my statement to the police.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, listen, Ronald, um… just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on.”

“You read it?” He seemed surprised. “You come to listen to what I've got to say?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Dean said.

“Well, come on in.” He opened the door and led you through a narrow hallway to a room cluttered with conspiracy theory paraphernalia.

“None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy,” he rushed out. You were beginning to think the same. “First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards.”

“So you let him into the bank that night, after hours,” Sam noted.

“The thing I let into the bank…” Ronald trailed off, “wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll.”

You nearly choked on a laugh. “A Juan-doll?”

“Look, this wasn't the only time this happened, okay?” He scrambled through papers on his messy desk and handed you a folder. “There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, a-and you guys, you just won't see it!” You flipped through the folder; it almost looked like a hunter’s profile of the case. You were half impressed. “Both crimes were pulled by the same thing,” Ronald finished. 

Sam pressed, saying, “What's that, Mr. Resnick?”

He picked up a copy of a magazine labeled “Fortean Times” and held it out to you. The headline read, “Birth of the Cybermen.”

‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought, suppressing a grimace.

“Chinese 've been working on 'em for years,” the man explained. “And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people.”

Dean smirked. “Like the one from T2.”

“Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a- a- a- a— Mandroid," he said finally, a bizarre twinkle in his eye.

“A Mandroid,” you deadpanned. “And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?”

He held up a finger at you, smiling a little wildly. Your eyes flicked to Dean’s in concern, and he just wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

The man returned a moment later holding a VHS tape labeled “M.N.T. Camera 4— Juan.” He inserted it into a player, saying, “See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried. Here.” He fast-forwarded a bit in the tape. “Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th- th- there it is!” He paused it on a clip of the man with a silver in his eyes. “You see? He's got the laser eyes.”

You gave Sam a knowing look that he returned.

“Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of ‘camera flare’. Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter!” You eyed Ronald uncomfortably as he continued to pace around and rant. “The Mandroid is— is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down— I'll do it myself.

"You see, this thing, it- it- it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together.” He pointed at the map on the wall. “So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries.”

Dean nodded, seeming impressed. You just looked between Ronald and Dean in confusion. 

“Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the god's honest truth about all of this,” Sam began.

Your head whipped to him, confused as to where he was going with this.

“There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?”

You kept a straight face, but were startled. 

“The laser eyes,” Ronald tried desperately.

“Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank, and that's it,” Sam mollified.

Ronald immediately became angry. “Get out of my house! Now!”

***

You and the brothers found another tacky, cheap motel to stay in for the time being. You lounged on Dean’s bed in a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. 

Dean paced around the room, chuckling. “Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that— what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?” He laughed harder. “That's messed up.”

Sam sat on the foot of the bed and inserted the tape into the television’s player. “What are you, pissed at me or something?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here.”

“Mandroid?” you deadpanned.

“Except for the Mandroid part,” Dean added. “I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy.”

“He’s not a hunter, though, Dean,” you challenged. “He ran into something real and let his conspiracy-theory-brain-rot get the best of him.”

“Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive,” Sam finished.

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.” He put a paper down on the map on the table and began marking it with a red pen. 

You shuffled forward to Sam and hit the pause button on the remote just as the man’s eyes flashed at the camera.

“Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video,” Sam informed.

“Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those fuckin’ things,” Dean grunted.

“You think we don’t?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder.”

You shrugged. “Well, look, if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri—”

“Then Ronald was right. Alright, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?”

Sam nodded.

“With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main,” Dean continued.

“Awesome,” you grumbled.

***

Later that evening, you and the brothers headed to the bank Dean referenced, the City Bank of Milwaukee, to see if the shapeshifter would be hitting that one next. You posed as Sam and Dean’s boss, and the two boys wore security camera technician outfits. 

The guard of the bank informed you as you walked along, “Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet.”

You shook your head. “No, sir, this is a glitch in the overall grid. I just need to cover all my bases and make sure the branch monitors are okay.”

“Well, better to be safe than sorry, I guess,” the guard shrugged.

“That’s the plan,” you nodded.

He opened the door to an observation room flooded with monitors for you, saying, “Alrighty. You guys need anything else?”

“Nope,” you replied. “We’ll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check.”

“Okie-dokie,” he said, leaving the room.

Dean chuckled. “I like him. He says ‘Okie-dokie.’ “

“What if he's the shifter?” worried Sam.

“Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chestplate,” the older brother replied simply.

You sat down in one of the desk chairs to watch the screens. You kicked your high-heeled feet up on the desk in front of you, leaning back in your seat. “Anybody got popcorn?” you yawned, preparing for the hours of work ahead of you.

***

You and the Winchester boys were beginning to go cross-eyed after searching for the monster for so long.

“Well, it looks like Mr. Okie-Dokie is… okie-dokie,” Dean commented upon seeing his eyes appear normal in the camera screens.

“Maybe we jumped the gun on this, guys,” sighed Sam. “I mean, we don't even know it's here.”

Something caught your eye. “Wait a minute.” A middle-aged man turned toward the camera, and his eyes flared. “Got him.”

“Hello, freak,” Dean growled.

Sam immediately jumped up, as did you, but Dean lingered behind. “Guys, wait!”

“What?” you and Sam spun around.

You then saw Ronald scurrying up to the door of the bank with a chain and a padlock, chaining it shut.

Dean scoffed. “Hello, Ronald.”

You immediately began running down the hall, ignoring the protesting of the soles of your feet as your heels clacked against the floor. As you approached the main lobby of the bank, you heard Ronald screaming for everyone to get on the ground. And then, gunshots.

“Fuck!” you cursed.

“And you said we shouldn't bring guns,” Dean scolded Sam, nearly bumping into someone fleeing past him.

“I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean,” Sam replied.

“Just let me do the talking,” the older brother commanded. “I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson.”

You saw Ronald standing in front of a group of people huddled together on the floor. “Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So nobody's leaving, do you understand?”

Your eyes flicked to Dean concernedly as he stepped forward. “Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down—”

Ronald wheeled around. “What the— You! Get on the floor, now.”

Dean began to crouch to the floor, as did you and Sam. “Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us.”

“I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the Mandroid?”

“We’re not working for the Mandroid!” Sam exclaimed.

Ronald shakily aimed his gun at Sam. “You, shut up! I ain't talking to you. I don't like you.”

“Fair enough,” the brunet mumbled.

“Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!” Ronald commanded one of the hostages.

“Oh, hell, no, you’re not fucking touching me,” you struggled against the man as he tried to feel you up. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), stop, stop,” Sam pleaded.

You shoved the man off yourself. Your struggle was strategic, though, as it kept him from finding the knives you had planted on yourself; one in your sleeve and one alongside your thigh.

The man moved over to Dean and found a knife stashed in his boot.

“Now what have we here?” Ronald’s question was meant to sound intimidating, but his wavering voice gave him away.

Sam shot Dean a look.

“I'm not just gonna walk in here naked!” Dean hissed back.

“Get back there,” Ronald ordered. You did so, following his pointing of the gun to the group of people behind him. He dropped Dean’s knife in the deposit box, and Dean winced.

“We know you don't want to hurt anybody,” he said. “That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?”

“No!” Ronald shrieked. “I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself.”

“Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here,” Dean replied.

“You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?” he cried.

“Come here,” Dean said.

Ronald scoffed. “What? No.”

“You're holding the gun, boss; you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something. Come here.”

Ronald approached cautiously and leaned into Dean. You assumed he was telling him who the shifter was.

“Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes,” Dean whispered.

The shorter man’s eyes widened. “His laser eyes?”

“Yes.” Dean seemed to realize what he’d said. “No. No! No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else.”

“Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar,” Ronald grumbled.

Dean stood cautiously, hands out.

“Dean, no!” you said.

“I'll shoot you! Get down!” Ronald ordered, pointing his rifle at Dean.

“Take me. Okay? Take me with you; take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast , because the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change.” Dean paused. “Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank.”

Ronald finally nodded. “Alright, you come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!”

You stood on shaky legs as the people around you gasped and cried. You helped Sam herd everyone into the vault, and Dean tried to calm everyone down when Ronald ordered him to shut the door.

“It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool.” He threw a lingering glance to you before locking the vault completely.

A young redhead stared after Dean. “Who is that man?” she asked breathlessly.

“He's my brother,” Sam replied; you could hear the worry in his voice.

“He is so brave,” she practically moaned.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

The redhead went silent for a few minutes, and you took some time to thoroughly think your situation over. ‘Cops are gonna be all over this place by now. Dean’s been accused of murder, and the three of us have already been arrested once. Dean’s on the FBI’s radar. Surely, after our escape on the danashulps case, the feds are on us again. Now, we’re smack dab in the middle of a full-on hostage situation. And who are they likely to blame? Us!’ Your anxiety was beginning to get away with you as your thoughts began to swirl in your head. You were then acutely aware of how hot the room was, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt to keep some circulation moving. 

The woman next to you who seemed infatuated with Dean introduced herself to you.

“ ‘Scuse me, sorry. Uh, hi, I’m Sherry,” she said. “You’re, uh, with those guys, too, right?”

You nodded. 

“You known them a while?”

You nodded again.

She grinned. “Oh, gosh. What’s it like being around him?”

You snorted. “ ‘Him’ who?”

“That guy! The one who saved our lives!” she beamed. “What’s he like?”

“To tell you the truth, he’s a pain in my ass most of the time,” you giggled, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Oh, really?” She deflated a bit before her floaty, trancelike inflection in her voice came back. “He just… He seems so wonderful to be around. I mean, staring down that gun. And, you know, the way— he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear, I mean—” She trailed off, turning her attention back to you. “He's like, a real hero or, or something.” She tucked a hair behind her ear as she continued to gush.

You nodded again, feeling weirded out. 

“Sorry, I just,” she sing-songed, “I’ve never met anyone like him.” She paused, seeming to consider her next question carefully. “You ever… done anything with him?”

You nearly choked at her statement, uncomfortable with the objectification of Dean. “What?”

“Y’know,” she drawled, “How good is he in the—”

You were grateful to hear the vault door unlocking, revealing Dean holding a handgun.

“Oh my god, you saved us! You saved us!” Sherry cheered.

“Actually, I just found a few more. Come on, everybody, let's go. Let's go.” Dean ushered the guard from earlier and a few other people inside the vault.

“What are you doing?” Sherry questioned.

“Sam, (Y/N), look, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you,” Dean said.

You shot Sam a confused look, and Dean shut the vault door behind him, shrugging apologetically.

“It's shed its skin again,” Dean explained. “We don't know when— it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault.”

“Great,” you sighed. “Y’know, Dean, you are wanted by the police.”

He nodded.

Sam seemed to catch onto where you were headed with this. “So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

“Well, one problem at a time,” the older brother replied. “Alright, I'm gonna do a sweep of the whole place; see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together we've got to play a little game of find-the-freak, so… here.” He handed Sam a silver letter opener. “Found another one of these for you. (Y/N), I know you have weapons on you. Best use ‘em.”

You grinned at how well he knew you. You slipped your silver-bladed knife out of your sleeve.

Dean turned to Sam. “Now, stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody, okay? Help him manage the situation.” He turned to you. “C’mon.”

Sam’s voice began rising in outrage. “Help him manage? Are you insane?”

You turned your head to Ronald who seemed shaken, attention caught by Sam’s voice.

“Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted—”

Dean was cut off by his brother nearly shouting, “Understatement!”

“But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay?” Dean finished.

Ronald peered out of the window in plain view of whoever was down below. You snapped, “Ronald! Out of the light!”

Sam scoffed at his brother, “Seriously?!”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?”

Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and grabbed your hand, bringing you along with him. ‘If only Sherry could see us now,’ you thought bitterly.

Dean looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s that face about?” he questioned.

“Nothin’,” you replied, still grinning in self-satisfaction, scanning the hallway ahead for anyone or anything.

He just hummed at you, turning his head forward again.

“I hate this case,” you whispered after a few minutes of tense walking.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, still scanning the ceiling. He seemed to notice something, and you followed his gaze upward. A panel in the ceiling had been left askew. You eyed Dean curiously and took the gun from him, pointing it at the panel while Dean dislodged it with a coat rack from nearby. Suddenly, a naked body fell to the floor. Dean turned the body over with the end of the rack.

“Wait, Dean, wasn’t that?—”

“Yeah, I just let that guy in the vault.”

***

You and Dean hurried as inconspicuously as possible to inform Sam of what had just happened. Sam told you that man had been trying to get the front door unlocked and helping Mr. Okie-Dokie who may have been going into cardiac arrest when you and Dean found the body. 

You turned to Ronald and his cocked rifle. “You know what, Ronald? He's right, we've got to get this man outside. Come on. I've got you.”

The shifter tried to help, too. “Yeah, yeah, let me help you.”

“Oh, we got him, it's, it's cool. Thanks,” you replied. You helped the guard out of the way, and Sam took the man’s other side.

“Thank you. Thank you,” the guard told you between labored breaths.

“Sure,” you smiled politely.

You could hear Dean talking to the shifter and a sudden crash behind you. You turned with the guard still on your shoulders at Ronald yelling, “Stop! Come back here!” You noticed a red laser pointed on his back, and your breath caught.

“Get down! Now!” you screamed, but you were too late. 

The bullet from the sniper rifle hit Ronald squarely in the chest. You watched in horror as he fell to his knees before hitting the floor dead.

You took in a sharp breath at the sight, forcing yourself to keep your composure for the sake of everyone else in the room with you.

It was bedlam at that minute. All of the hostages began running out of the vault toward the door. You put Mr. Okie-Dokie on the ground next to you and just kept him talking until something could be done to help him. You weren’t quite sure what Sam or Dean were doing, but you made it your priority to keep this man from going into cardiac arrest.

Dean suddenly came over to you, holding a rifle.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), trust me on this—” he pleaded before helping the guard stand.

“Dean! I can help him, don’t bring him outside—”

“I’m not taking that chance, (Y/N). C’mon,” he told the guard. “I gotcha.” He held the man out in front of him and pushed him out the front door with the rifle at the guard’s back. You stayed out of the light, back pressed against the pillar next to the heavy door. 

“No, don't shoot! Don't shoot! Please!” you heard the guard yell.

Dean commanded, “Don't even think about it! I said get back! Now!” He paused a moment before you heard his voice again. “Okay, go, go!” The older Winchester slipped back inside, shutting the door and latching it.

“We are so fucked,” he mumbled to you, helping you up from the floor. 

“Fuck, why?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s about, I don’t know, eight thousand cops out there. Helicopters and search lights and everything. We are fucked, (Y/N).”

You dropped your head back, groaning, “Great.”

Dean’s phone rang, and you assumed it was Sam. “Yeah?” he answered. “What?... God, it's like playing the shell game. It could be anybody. Again… Alright, you search every inch of this place, we’re gonna go round everybody up.” He hung up the phone.

“I think this is the most stressed I’ve been on a job,” you said as you and Dean began searching for the hostages. 

“Yeah? Even more so than the demons in New York?”

“Oh, definitely. That was just a sad one; not super stressful,” you replied. You noticed a herd of people toward the end of the hall. You gripped the handle of your knife, knowing the shifter would likely be in the mix of all the hostages. 

You and Dean rounded them up; Dean pointing the rifle he picked up from Ronald at the group. You guided them back to the vault.

“And I thought you were one of the good guys,” Sherry, who held up the back of the group, told Dean, who was trailing behind her.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Why would you care?” she scoffed.

“My name's Dean,” he said. Your heart melted a bit at his gentleness with her.

She hesitated but still answered. “I'm Sherry.”

“Hi, Sherry. Everything's gonna be alright. This will all be over soon, okay?” He assured her, shutting the vault door and spinning the lock shut. The landline of the bank rang and you picked it up. You didn’t say anything when you answered the phone.

“This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen,” a commanding voice stated through the phone. “Is this Dean? Sam?”

You didn’t respond once more.

Dean mouthed to you, “Who is that?”

You shook your head, holding up a finger to gesture for him to wait.

“Oh, or is it that pretty girl? Our very own criminal Jane Doe. Some people have been calling her Ghost since no one can seem to find any record of her existence.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you still didn’t say anything.

“Well, whether you’ve got the Bonnie to your Clydes with you or not, it’s my job to bring you boys in. Alive's a bonus, but not necessary. I want you Winchesters out here, unarmed, or we come in.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re still there,” he said, almost taunting. “I know everything about you two. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis; I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad.” 

Dean was trying to get close to the phone, but you kept pushing him away because you knew he’d explode at the mention of his father.

“Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road,” the agent continued, “cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to. You have one hour to make a decision, or we come through those doors fully automatic.” With that, he hung up the phone.

You slammed the phone down, cursing in frustration.

“What? Who was that?” Dean asked.

“The fucking FBI agent who’s been tailing us since Missouri,” you replied, beginning to pace anxiously. “He knows everything about you guys, man. Even about your dad. That’s why I didn’t let you talk to him; I knew you would’ve ripped his head off.”

“Damn right,” the man growled. “They have a positive ID on you yet?” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Ironically, some of the feds labeled me ‘Ghost’ cause they can’t find anything on me. Which makes me even more nervous. Anyway, we’ve got an hour till they come in here and pump us full of lead,” you informed him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Moments later, Sam appeared at the entrance of the vault room.

“Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “We got a problem in here.”

“What?” you questioned.

Sam hushed his voice. “The girl that was gushing over Dean in the vault? It’s her,” he told you. 

“Who, Sherry?” you questioned.

He nodded. “Just found her body.”

Barely needing to flick a glance at the boys, you unlocked the vault.

“Sherry? We're gonna let you go,” Dean called as the door swung open.

“What? Why me?” she questioned.

“Uh, as a show of good faith to the feds, come on,” he replied.

The woman hesitated. “Uh... I think I'd— I'd rather stay here, with the others.”

Dean approached her intimidatingly. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist.”

You clutched your blade at your side. After a tense moment, she approached you. Sam and Dean pushed her back to the hallway.

“I thought you were letting me go,” the woman you thought was the shifter said.

Dean shoved her forward, holding her head and forcing her to look at the body of Sherry Sam had brought back with him. She began screaming hysterically.

“Is that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?” Dean gruffly questioned.

“This is the last time you become anybody. Ever,” Sam added.

“No! Oh god!” she cried. She fainted almost immediately.

You stared at the two Sherrys in disbelief. One of the bodies was dressed, the other, half-naked. ‘Poor lady,’ you thought. You took off your blazer and laid it over the woman’s body, trying to spare her dignity. 

“Wait, why did it do that?” you questioned. You leaned over the undressed body of Sherry covered only by your blazer and put your finger on her neck, trying to find a pulse. The body immediately jolted up, grabbing you by the throat. You struggled, stabbing at it frantically. You got a lick in at its upper arm with the knife before it kneed you in the chin and bolted.

You coughed when it released your throat, clutching at your neck and coughing.

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried.

“Dean, no, I’m fine! Follow it!”

He nodded, taking your knife from your outstretched hand and running after it. You kicked off your heels and took another moment before standing and going to follow Dean. Sam had taken off somewhere with the real Sherry. 

You didn’t know what else to do besides stay with the vault and Dean’s discarded handgun, prowling in front of it with the gun at the ready. 

***

You had no idea how long it had been. You just continued to pace in front of the vault, tension overtaking your body and anxiety keeping your eyes flickering across the room rapidly. You suddenly heard approaching footsteps and dove on the ground behind a desk— unsure if it was Dean, Sam, the shifter, a cop— and were panicked at the sight of S.W.A.T. sniper rifle lasers and flashlights on the wall in front of you. Your breath quickened as the footsteps continued approaching you. Then, a masked man ducked under the desk in front of you.

You shrieked.

“Here’s Johnny!” he yelped.

“Dean! Fuck you!” You shoved his shoulder harshly when you recognized his face. He and Sam were donned in S.W.A.T. outfits that they had definitely taken off some poor bastards hidden in a broom closet somewhere. 

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here, now,” Dean told you. You grabbed your heels and followed the boys out of the building and to the Impala. Dean and Sam had their stolen guns at the ready as you sprinted up to the third floor of the parking garage. 

The three of you sat in the Impala, completely breathless, as you grappled with the reality of your situation.

“We are so fucked,” Dean murmured.

You and Sam nodded minutely.

You looked out of the window at the rising morning sun. Exhausted, you let the rumble of the Impala soothe you into a restless sleep as Dean drove you away from the bank. 

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