#it feels so cheap and hypocritical

[newtwithinternet]

TDP S7 ending really said "If the world faces a great crisis, the most important thing you have to care about is not resolving it, but keeping your hands nice and clean. no, we aren't saying that there IS a way to solve the crisis without dire methods, we are saying that someone else (who is conveniently stained already) will eventually show up to do the dirty work INSTEAD of you. and you'll be good for letting them do it."

[arctic-hands]

rip in peace calvin klein plain white all cotton mens t-shirts I got as a gift like 8 years ago that are super comfy and just the right thickness and are only just now starting to become threadbare and stained but I am not paying thirty-five dollars for 3 new plain white tees that were probably also made in the same factory as the 6 pack of hanes cotton plain white tees I bought by overseas laborers for slave wages

[theood]

Adults in my life stop ordering from T.emu challenge like actually. Not that like Amazon or anything is somehow better but god. The app for Temu alone really does feel like I downloaded a virus and I'm gonna get a pop-up about being the 100th visitor click here to claim your prize!

[evergone]

Hypocrite

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing

Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.

“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.

“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.

You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”

You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.

“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”

Oh, but you could hardly speak.

You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.

Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.

“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”

“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”

Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.

While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.

“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”

Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.

The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.

And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.

“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).

Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.

“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”

“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.

You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.

“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”

He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.

“Even?” Asked Theo.

“Even,” you nodded.

[meanbossart]

When you described the fashion that Drow dislikes it made me think about Bhaalist AU. Becasue Astarion on that one piece (the one with a mirror) looks exactly like your description. It's a bit ironic and I love it. Drow appreciates practicality. But Bhaalist Drow doesn't think Astarion needs to dress practical, Astarion is there to look pretty and Bhaalist Drow is there to make sure he is safe :) Do you have any more thoughts on how their (Drow vs Bhaalist Drow) perspective differ when it comes to clothing?

VERY WELL OBSERVED!

I would say, though, that it's more of a mixture of the things DU drow genuinely and consistently finds "tasteful" and the ostentatious garishness that he appalls in his redeemed path - and that is very much the character in a nutshell, a slightly more honed version of the person he used to be pre-tadpole, but who still requires that status and approval. He's more in control now - both of himself and of the world around him - but he's by no means "better".

By dressing Astarion up in a way that could be understated but then loading him with gold, silver and gems, he's making him a symbol of status as well. Astarion isn't supposed to look impressive, he's supposed to make him look impressive. And of course the fact that he's bound and weighted down in riches speaks for itself.

What's funny about Bhaalist DU drow AND "canon" drow, is that they both believe to be a new and improved person when compared to who they were prior to losing their memories. They would both mock him for his obsession with Orin, his weaknesses, his obnoxiousness, his appearance, his obsession with gold and jewels and intricate outfits - and they're both hypocritical for it in their own ways.

A Bhaal-Embracing DU drow would forego of a lot of the glitz and the murder-glamor that his past-self valued so much, especially in fashion, and treat his body itself far more like the statement piece it's supposed to be. Astarion, on the other hand would be showered with those kinds of gifts - because as mentioned earlier, he gets to be the expensive purse that DU drow carries around with him everywhere. He can care about looking nice and pretty, because he doesn't have much more of a purpose than that.

Canon DU drow, on the other hand, values things much more based on comfort, both in the practical and emotional sense. He doesn't value the individual rings he loots around, but having them on makes him feel nice even if they're cheap, scuffed, or just out of place with the rest of his look. Stealing pretty valuables is more of a fun past-time with his significant-other than a genuine lust for gold. Nice clothes are a treat, but not necessary, and regardless of his personal preferences he doesn't truly care about what his partner has on at all, as long as they seem happy about it. This is the biggest difference between the two versions of this character - they both want to make their better-halves happy, but only one of them cares whether or not it's a genuine kind of happiness.

[cece693]

Fun (Lestat de Lioncourt x M! Vamp Reader)

Summary: You found this whole thing amusing—it was Lestat who pushed for an open relationship, not you—so how was it your fault when your companion became jealous?

tags: jealousy, typical Lestat, no mention of Louis or Claudia, reader doesn't really care, he loves seeing Lestat come undone, does mention Antoinette, fluffy/happy ending

You struggled to hold in your laughter, watching as Lestat paced the parlor of your home after scaring off your latest lover. "I don't see what's the problem." You drawled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the spectacle that was a non-composed Lestat.

"You were the one who said we could see other people, fuck whoever we pleased, as long as we returned to one another. So, what changed?"

Lestat whipped around to face you, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something deeper—something almost vulnerable. “What’s changed?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “What’s changed is that I didn’t expect to find someone draped all over you like a cheap coat, looking at you like you’re theirs to keep!”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Isn't that how Antoinette sees you? A man who'd given her everything—even the Dark Gift?

The moment you mentioned Antoinette, you saw something flicker in his eyes, a brief flash of guilt that he quickly masked with renewed anger. “That’s different." Lestat shot back, his tone harsh, almost desperate. “I never let her think she had all of me. I never gave her what’s ours. She's just—”

“Just what, Lestat?” You interrupted, "Just a convenient distraction? Someone to keep you entertained when you’re bored with me? Or is she something more, something you don’t want to admit?”

“Don’t twist this around!” Lestat snapped. “You’re the one who brought this on! You’re the one who’s been pushing the boundaries, flaunting your little affairs in my face, acting like it doesn’t matter—”

“Maybe because it doesn’t!” You shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I asked you many times, Lestat, if this was what you wanted, and you said yes every single time. Why should I feel guilty when I'm finally enjoying myself?"

"Because I never thought you would!" Lestat roared, his voice echoing through the parlor. His eyes were wide, as if in disbelief at what he said, but there was no taking it back. “I didn’t think you’d actually let someone else get close to you—close enough to make me feel like I’m losing you.”

The parlor grew silent after Lestat’s revelation, and while you wanted to comfort your companion, a grimace tugged at your lips. He spoke of his fear of losing you, but you couldn’t help but think about his ongoing relationship with Antoinette. Despite being a distraction, Lestat had returned to her for a century. Meanwhile, none of your lovers had even lasted a week.

"You're a hypocrite, Lestat. You truly are. Just admit it, you don't want to lose control over me. I'm to stay at home, waiting at your beck and call while you're out fucking anything that catches your fancy!"

"That's not true—"

"Stop lying!" You interrupted him, patience wearing thin. This conversation wasn't supposed to go this deep, neither you nor Lestat were good at conveying emotions, but perhaps this was the time to put aside shame and bear it all. "Just tell me if you want to continue this arrangement or not. Be honest for once."

Lestat’s eyes widened, his struggle evident as he searched for the right words. “I—” He hesitated, his mind racing but his heart already knowing the answer. “I want you.” Seeing the confusion on your face, he took a deep breath and continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I want us to be together, without these complications and uncertainty. I'll end things with Antoinette, even dispose of her, if you desire, to prove my sincerity and love."

Smiling, you abandoned the doorway and walked toward your companion. While it had been amusing to see Lestat angry and out of his element, this display of vulnerability was even more compelling. Gently tracing his jaw with your fingertips, you leaned in and kissed him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, reassuring gesture.

Lestat's eyes fluttered closed, his initial surprise melting into a soft, almost relieved expression. “I hope you keep to your promises.” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin as you broke apart. Your arms were still wound around his waist, tightening when the vampire laughed with joy.

“Oh, for you, I’m willing to do anything.” 

[bloatedandalone04]

Illicit Affairs

➪the one where leon is yours entirely, even though he is married to someone else.

Warnings: cheating, affairs, swearing, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, mentions of cheating, angst, smut, toxic relationships, small amount of ada slander since that is actually a warning i found out, mentions of divorce and all that fun stuff

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Left the door unlocked, just in case. I hope you had a good day.

That was the text Leon is met with as he enters the house he shared with his wife. His thumbs ghosted over the screen, his mind trying to come up with a good enough answer that wouldn’t leave you feeling cheap. There was nothing he could say through text, he decided, and he ended up pocketing his phone and heading towards his bedroom. 

Ada was sitting against the headboard, picking at her freshly painted red nails with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Her engagement and wedding rings reflected off the bedside table lamp, and Leon wished he cared enough to remember where he had placed his own wedding band after taking it off many weeks ago, but it held no meaning to him. “Late again, Leon,” she muttered, glaring at him as he entered the room. “What was it this time?” 

Leon huffed as he walked towards the dresser. “Work,” he answered and he was being completely truthful, not that she’d ever believe him - which is quite hypocritical, if he had to be honest. He was well aware of the many times she came home late, and the many more times she never came home at all. She was just as bad as him, maybe even worse. “Like last time.”

Ada scoffed, tossing the sheets over her body and crossing her arms. “Liar,” 

She was trying to get under his skin, something she has always been able to do, even back when he was twenty one years old. Now at the age of twenty eight, he had no idea why he still continues to put himself through this. 

He was so sure that what he felt for the woman was love, but after four years with her, he quickly found out that it was lust. He met her when he was just starting out and had no idea what love even was, but he knew that it wasn’t what he felt for her. 

At first he was infatuated with her. It was a cat and mouse game that left him feeling like he could never truly and fully have her, and that was still true to this day. 

He married her, and yet she still wasn’t his. 

The guys she met at the bar. The men she ran into on missions. The rookies who had information she wanted, but didn’t need. She was all of theirs, as well as Leon’s, but never in full. 

Leon kept his back to her as he rolled his eyes and rummaged around in his drawer. “Whatever, Ada,” he muttered, grabbing his grey sweats before opening another drawer. 

“Don’t whatever me, Leon,” she seethed. “Don’t act like you haven’t been sneaking around on me. We both know you have. Some poor, naive girl who thinks you’re actually into her but probably doesn’t even know you’re married to me.”

Leon hated the way she was talking about you, and she was once again getting under his skin. He slams the drawer shut loudly after grabbing a black tee, turning towards his wife with a fire in his eyes. “You’re one to talk,” he growls. “You’ve been sleeping around since before we even got married. You haven’t changed, and I was dumb enough to believe you would.”

Ada’s eyes widened a bit but she tried to hide it by sitting up a little straighter.

He caught her, though. And they both knew it. “Yeah,” he laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “Haven’t been as discreet about it as you thought, huh?”

Leon turns to leave the room, but she wasn’t done playing with him, clearly. “Oh, come on, Leon,” she called out, dropping her attitude and making her voice sound sultry. “We both know how good we are together. Just come to bed with me. We can forget all about this.” 

She pushes the sheets off her body and crawls over to him, kneeling on the bed and running her hand up his arm. “Ada-”

“Shh,” she purrs, reaching her hands up and capturing his lips in a messy kiss. He doesn’t move at all, even though he wants to pull away, he also wants to prove a point. The fact that this was the first kiss they’ve shared in months should be a clear enough sign that this was completely over. She smirks when she pulls away, licking at her slightly wet lips. “See? You feel that?”

Leon didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling, but he knew that she was trying to coax him into bed with her so he can fuck her and then pretend like their relationship was a normal and healthy one. 

When her hand wanders down his body and is about to touch him through his jeans, his own shoots out and his fingers wrap around her wrist, successfully halting her advances. “I don’t feel a thing,” he says, his voice so serious it had her eyes narrowing as she ripped her hand away from him. 

She sat back in disgust, crossing her arms again. “You can’t leave, Leon,” she states, unaware of just how far gone he is from her control over him. He’s detached from her completely and felt nothing for her but resentment. And maybe a little anger at the years he’s wasted chasing after her when she didn’t want him at all. 

“I want a divorce, Ada,” he says, voice monotone as he turns away and leaves the room. 

She yells harsh words after him but makes no move to stop him, further proving the point that she didn’t care. And neither did he.

Leon hates how much time he’s wasted with her when he could’ve been with you. You could’ve been his, officially, had he not been so afraid to let go of something he’s spent so much of his adulthood holding onto. 

He grabs his keys from off the counter, where he had tossed them not even ten minutes ago when he arrived home, and leaves the house, his mind on you as he hastily types out a reply to you and starts his car.

-

I’m sorry.

You read the text over and over again as you lie on your side in bed. 

What was he apologizing for? For stringing you along? For promising he’s going to leave his wife but never does? For not showing up tonight? 

The night was still young, so he might still show up, but the fact still stands. 

You felt terrible. 

Leon’s marriage was an unhappy one, and you knew he found happiness with you, but he hadn’t made it official yet, nor had he broken things off with Ada yet. Was it all a lie? Does he only come to you for an easy lay? For a sense of normalcy? 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer. 

Falling in love with him was slowly breaking your heart, but you really didn’t have a choice. Leon was every girl’s dream and only became unfaithful when he grew sick of the lonely nights where his wife went off and fucked half the town. 

From what you know, you’re the only person he’s seeing, and that was enough for you to keep on inviting him to come over and escape from that environment. 

How Ada could ever take him for granted was beyond you. 

You shut off your phone and set it on the nightstand beside you after reading the time. It was nearing twelve in the morning and you were beginning to feel a bit like an idiot after sending that text to him. 

It was an invitation to stay at your house, and you even threw in a dumb line about his day, all because you knew Ada didn’t care enough to ask him that herself. 

As you begin to get more comfortable in bed, the sound of the front door opening then locking pierces your ears. Your mood lifts considerably at the fact that he had shown up after all, but you also knew you would be met with the same old line of ‘I’m going to break up with her, I promise’. 

You really weren’t sure how much more your heart could take. 

Quiet footsteps neared your bedroom, where the door slowly creaked open. “Y/n?” His soft voice called out and you just shifted to let him know that you were still awake. Leon kicks off his boots and drops his sweats and tee onto the top of your dresser before pulling the covers back and moving to lay behind you. “Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you greet quietly, keeping your back to him. 

“Hi,” he says back, wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you.”

You stiffen slightly. “Did you?” You ask harshly, instantly regretting it when he doesn’t respond. You turn your head and look back at him, seeing guilt swim in his blue eyes, even in the dark room. Sighing, you turn back around. “I missed you, too.”

Leon could hear the tiredness in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because of how late it was. He knew it was because of his broken promises of leaving his wife, but never sticking to them. Until now. “Baby,” he called softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, smiling at the way you lean into his touch. “I asked for a divorce.”

That had your eyes widening and you tried to turn around, but his arms kept you still. “Really?” You ask as you settle against him once again. When he nodded and hummed, you added, “When?”

“Before I came here,” he answered, tangling his legs with yours under the sheets. 

Your lips tremble as you try not to get too ahead of yourself. “Leon,” you nearly whisper. 

“It’s over,” he confirmed, kissing your head again. “I promise, this is the last time. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” 

“And me?” You felt selfish for asking, but you needed to know that you weren’t the only one feeling this between you and him. 

Leon’s hand slides under your shirt as he pulls your body closer to his. “You’re my girl,” he mumbles. “And I love you.”

Your head turns again and you keep your back to his chest as you grin. “You love me?” 

He nods, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours. “So much,” 

Reaching behind you, your hand tangles in his hair as you pull his head closer to yours. “I love you, too,” you confess, pressing your lips to his afterwards in a kiss that was all smiles. “I missed you, Leon.”

Leon runs his hand higher up your body and strokes the undersides of your breasts. “I missed you, too,” he says as he kisses along your neck. “I thought about you all day.”

“Leon,” you hummed, gripping his hair tighter as his fingers began to tease your nipples. His thumb and index finger gently pinch and pull at the buds, making your legs squeeze around his. “God.”

With the arm that is pinned under your body, his fingers continue to tease your chest while his other hand slides down your body. “I need you, sweetheart,” he nearly begs. “Please.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this about Ada, and it was clear that you had completely changed his perspective on what a real, happy relationship looked and felt like. 

You remove your hand from his hair and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sliding his hand lower down your body until he is softly rubbing your clit through your panties. “Take me, Leon,” you request in a whisper, reaching behind you so you could gently palm him through his jeans. “I’m yours.”

Leon kisses you deeply, sliding his hand in between the lace and your skin so he could properly tease your clit. “All mine,” he stated when you pulled away and moaned. “‘M all yours, too, baby.” 

You whimper when his index finger gathered up your wetness before sinking into you knuckle deep. “Leon,” you moan quietly, struggling to unzip his jeans from the position, but somehow managing to.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder blade. He thrusts his finger a couple of times before adding his middle and allowing his thumb to rub bruising circles onto your clit. “Everything I could ever want.”

This is how it’s supposed to be. 

You never pressured him to do anything, never forced anything or broke his trust in any way. It felt so right with you, like how a relationship should. 

He didn’t have to force himself to love you, that was something that came naturally, and quite quickly. 

Running into you at that bar nearly seven months ago was one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he wouldn’t take that day back for anything in the whole world. 

“Leon,” you moan and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. “Please, fuck, I need you.” 

“I’m right here,” he promised, kissing the side of your head as he slowed down the fucks of his hand in order to help your own rid him of his uncomfortable jeans. “You want this?” He asks, just to be sure you weren’t thinking this was all he came here for. 

Really, he would’ve been completely content with spending the night fully clothed and in your arms, but he was also more than okay with ending his day with you wrapped around him. 

“I want this,” you kiss him deeply, the angle making your neck hurt a bit but you don’t care. You kick off your panties as you ask, “Do you?”

Another thing he wasn’t used to, the question of consent that sounded so sweet coming from you. “Always,” he answered, kissing you again when you reached back and pulled him free before guiding him to your slick entrance. He slips into you with a deep groan, the quiet gasp you emit making his head spin in the best way. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You shake your head and reach back to grip his hair as he pulls your leg to rest over his. “I think I would’ve waited forever, Leon,” you confessed as he began to slowly rock into you. 

He grunted quietly at your words and felt his whole body heat up, as well as his heart begin to race. He had never felt this way before, and he was glad he had found the person to experience this with at a still young age. 

Leon didn’t ever want to let you go after the first night he met you, and that only intensified as the months went on. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand settled on your hip, his other arm wrapping tightly around you. “I can promise you this, baby, I wouldn’t have made you wait that long. But I love you for telling me that.”

You lean back and kiss him, your brows furrowing at the slow fucks of his hips. “I love you, too, Leon,” you say back, placing your hand on his that was still tightly gripping your waist. “I just want you to be happy.”

He kissed along your neck, his teeth nipping at various spots. “You make me happy,” he rasped, pulling your body impossibly closer to his as he loved on you in more ways than one. “I’ve never been happier.”

You moan at his words, your heart swelling with pride and a bit of shock at the fact that you were, it seems like, the only person who truly has his entire heart, and the only one who has made him feel like this. 

At the sound of Leon’s quiet grunts, you allow yourself to lean back and against him completely, the assurance that he was yours entirely after tonight at the front of your mind. 

“You make me happy, too,” you say as you bury the side of your face in your pillow. Leon hums in response, pushing your hair away from your neck with his nose before kissing the skin there. “Leon…can I?”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you, noting the way your head was turned so your lips were ghosting against the base of his throat. Without you even finishing your question, he knew what you were asking, and he somehow got even more turned on at your request. 

A deep grunt leaves his mouth as he nods, gripping your hip tightly and thrusting into you. “Yeah, baby,” he answered. You smile and moan quietly before kissing his neck, your lips teasing his spotless skin. He grunts again, tilting his head a bit and exposing more of his neck to you. “Do it, baby. Please.”

You give in and suck a mark onto the base of his throat, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips as you stay there for a bit. He groaned loudly, and the thought of Ada seeing the hickey when he returned back to her with divorce papers sent his mind into a frenzy. He wanted her to see it after seemingly assuming that he had no one other than her. Oh, how wrong she is.

Pulling away with a lopsided grin, you bury your face in the pillow again when he sped up the pace of his hips.  

He couldn’t wait for this to become his normal life soon. The sound of your sweet moans filling your room played on repeat in his head whenever he was away from you, and your kind smile was the only thing he thought about when he went to sleep. 

“You’re everything I want,” he promised as his hand slipped from your waist and found your clit once again. Your body shuddered against his as a loud moan left your mouth, and you reached a hand down to grip his wrist. “Everything to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper and arch your back a bit as you feel your high quickly approach. Your hand wraps tighter around his wrist as your moans increase in volume, chanting a multitude of “Please.”

“You close, sweet girl?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt you clench helplessly around him. 

“Yes,” you replied in a breathy whisper, pulling his hand from in between your legs and pressing it against your chest. “Please, Leon.”

He wraps his hand around your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple through your shirt. You cry out and he feels your walls spasm a bit as you come around him, your core sucking him in even deeper and begging him to mark it as his own. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing all along your neck while you writhe against him. “Good girl, baby.”

“Leon,” you whispered, leaning back into him again and turning your head so you can brush your lips against his. 

“I know,” he rasped, fucking you through your sensitivity. “‘M gonna come, too, baby.”

“I want it,” you begged, tangling your hand in his hair. 

And he would never deny you of something you wanted. 

He groaned and cursed under his breath, his thrusts halting altogether as he leaned down to kiss you again. You moan against his mouth, your fingers gently massaging his head as you both came down from your highs. 

When he pulled out of you, your body turned to face his. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss him deeply and tangle your legs with his again. “You really mean it? It’s really over between you and her?” You ask quietly when you break the kiss, your fingers gently tracing his jawline. 

Leon turned his head and kissed your fingertips as he nodded. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he swore, kissing your forehead after. “I’m all yours. I always was.”

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues

Series Masterlist

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

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

So get a snack and enjoy besties!!😘😘😘

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

•One Week Later

Little Rock, Arkansas

Arkansas Museum of Anthropology

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

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

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

“I said freeze!”

“Hold it right there!”

“Get down on your knees now!”

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

Green River County Detention Center

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

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

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

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean snickered.

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?” Sam pointed out, “No, not really” Dean shrugged again. Sam rolled his eyes again in return, “Alright, well, listen. Either way, we need more info on Glockner. If she’s buried. If so, where. And we got…five hours to get it” Sam stated. It was Dean’s turn to give Sam a bitch face.

“No, no. Don’t you dare give me that ‘we-gotta-see-this-thing-through’ look.” Sam warned Dean, pressing his index finger to the table. “We are leaving tonight, no matter what” He said firmly. “I just don’t wanna let Deacon down. We owe him” Dean whispered back. “Yeah. But we don’t owe him our lives, Dean!” Sam lowly exclaimed.

Dean clenched his jaw, thinking deeply. He thought for a few seconds before making up his mind. He then got up from his seat without a word, “Where are you going?” Sam scoffed, “I'm gonna go have a chat with our favorite psychic” Dean smirked.

____________________________________________

Dean was currently sitting in the non-contact visiting area, patiently waiting for Y/N to arrive. Sure he had his phone that he could use to call her, but as selfish as it sounds, he needed to see her. Of course, y/n was skeptical about coming. It was a risk for her to show herself, but being a hunter means you gotta learn to disguise yourself.

She wouldn’t admit it, but she needed to see Dean just as much as he needed to see her. So, she made Jo wait in the Impala while she met with Dean.

It wasn’t too long when the glass doors opened and Y/N walked through, being led inside by a guard. She was wearing a long beige trench coat to cover her entire body, along with a dusty long wig with bangs that looked like she bought it from Party City to hide her natural (h/l) (h/c) hair.

Dean’s heartbeat quickened as he eyed her, it was as if she were an ice cold drink on a burning hot day. His eyes raked her up and down, he hadn’t forgotten just how damn good she looked.

Y/N sat in the seat across from him through the glass and picked up the phone, “Hey charming” She greeted with a smile that had clear relief behind it, putting the phone up to her ear. “Hey, princess” Dean replied, his heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the view before him.

Seeing Y/N’s face had lifted his mood instantly, he missed her more than he’d like to admit. “You have no idea how much I missed you” He added. She chuckled at his words but the sound was only heard through the phone, “Right back at you” She responded. Her eyes roamed his face, his rugged look as well as the look of his orange jumpsuit.

Her eyes landed instantly on the dark red bruise on Dean’s eye, her heart dropping. “They treating you okay in there?” Y/N asked, noticing the bruise. Her question made him smirk, “Nothing I can’t handle, sweetheart” He assured her. Y/N’s brows furrowed in response, not convinced, “Dean, this isn’t funny. Be serious” She said.

“I am being serious” He countered, his smile never leaving his face, even with the bruise. She stared at him with a firm expression, “How did you get that black eye?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Dean’s smile began to falter, “Um, uh-“ he stuttered, hesitating a moment.

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her eyebrow at him again, “Don’t lie to me, Dean” She warned. Dean knew there was no use in trying to get out of this one, “Okay, I um…I got into a little scuffle” He admitted sheepishly. “Another one?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” She lowly exclaimed through the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey now. Calm down, I’m fine” He told her, holding one of his hands. Y/N pursed her lips out, “You promise you’re fine?” She questioned. “I promise” He nodded a little, seeing the pout on her face. Her worry was always endearing to him.

However, Y/N wasn’t convinced. Dean noticed it so he instantly held up his pinky, waving it from the other side of the glass. “I pinky promise” He said with a charming smirk. Her lips finally curled up into a smile at the sight of his pinky. She rolled her eyes fondly at him as she let out a soft sigh, “You can’t break a pinky promise” She teased, holding up her own pinky in return.

“Okay, now onto what I called you here for” Dean’s tone switched to a serious one as they placed their pinkies back down. Y/N’s face dropped to a more serious face as he did, “Yeah” She nodded, ready to listen. “We need you to dig up some intel on a Nurse Glockner. She worked here in the 70’s.” Dean informed her, keeping his voice quiet incase if anyone was listening to their conversation.

“Wait, wait. Glockner? I thought Moody was haunting the prison?” Y/N responded, keeping her voice low. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too but, turns out, he’s just a regular con” Dean explained, the conversation was sounding a bit ridiculous. “Turns out the ghost of Nurse Glockner is our culprit,” He added.

“We think she was doing some vigilante thing. Killing the cons she felt deserved it” He whispered. Y/N leaned her forehead against the glass thoughtfully and chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she listened. “Alright. I’ll get on that right now.” Y/N nodded, “And Dean?” She said quietly, her eyes flickering to meet his.

“Yeah?” He responded, leaning his forehead against his side of the glass, their faces mere inches away from each other, the only thing separating them was the glass. “Please be careful” Y/N pleaded, placing her hand up against the glass.

He smiled softly at her, a look of tenderness appearing in his features. His hand instinctively went up to the glass, mirroring hers. He wished he could touch her, hold her, bring her in his arms. He missed that more than anything, but he couldn’t. His gaze was soft and gentle as he spoke, “I will” He promised.

“Good. I want you to come back in one piece” She told him firmly. “No promises, sweetheart” He joked with a smirk, but deep down he was serious. She narrowed her eyes at him in response, not amused. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” He put his free hand up in front of him, as if surrendering before leaning his head on the glass again.

She finally chuckled softly but rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously. Be careful, sweetie.” She warned again, more firmly than the previous time. She didn’t let him respond, instead, she placed a kiss on her hand and pressed it against the glass. Offering him a small smile before reattaching the phone to the compartment.

Dean felt his chest flutter at the sight of it, a feeling of warmth spreading through his body. He gave her a smile in return, a real smile. His heart ached for her, he missed her so damned much. His heart almost exploded when she planted the kiss behind the glass.

Dean watched as she walked away, mimicking the action after she left. He pressed a kiss to his hand before placing it in the exact spot she placed her own kiss. Unfortunately, her back was turnt to him as she walked out the door, so she didn’t get to see, but he didn't care. Just seeing her, even if there was a glass separating them, just made his day.

A feeling of emptiness consumed him when her figure disappeared through the door. He sat in the chair, staring at the closed door with a look of disappointment and heartache before placing the phone back into the compartment. He wanted to get out so badly, he felt like a caged animal in a prison cell. He knew he was getting out in five hours, but it felt like an eternity.

He sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “Dammit” He muttered to himself.

-

Y/N could feel her heart in her ass as she exited the building. Her hands were buried in her pockets of her trench-coat, quickly making her way to the Impala where Jo sat waiting in the passenger seat. Jo had a bored expression on her face, looked back towards her upon her seeing Y/N walking towards the car. “Well?” She asked, wanting to be updated on the visit.

Y/N sighed heavily as she opened the driver's side door, plopping into the seat. “They want us to do some research on a Nurse Glockner who worked there in the 70s. We gotta get this like yesterday because Deacon already called me, they’re breaking out tonight.“ Y/N explained as she peeled off the dusty blonde wig, tossing it in the backseat.

“Glockner? That’s kind of a weird name ” Jo responded, her head tilted as she watched her friend toss the wig into the back. “Wait, they’re getting out tonight?” Jo’s eyes widened at the news. “Yep, you’re getting to see your boy toy, don’t worry” Y/N teased Jo about Sam as she started the ignition to Baby.

“Shut up,” Jo muttered with a roll of her eyes to Y/N’s joke about Sam, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll get to see your boy toy too, you know” She retorted with a smirk on her face. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Dean soon, “Shut up,” She responded, pulling out of the parking lot.

-

Two hours later, Sam was waiting in the prison yard for Dean, his eyes scanning the area. It was pretty easy to point out that Sam hated being there, he was just counting down the hours until they could bust out of this hell-hole and he can get back to a dingy old motel and call Jo but he didn’t know she was already in town with Y/N.

Sam let out an impatient sigh as he paced the yard of the prison, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. He hated it, he’d much rather just hunt monsters down than be stuck behind a set of bars.

He also missed Jo a lot. He had missed seeing her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the way she could make him feel things he didn’t normally feel. Just the thought of her made his heart skip a beat. All he wanted to do was-

His thought process was cut short when Dean came into view, he waved at his brother from across the yard. Quickly making his way over to him, “How’d it go?” He asked Dean about his visit with Y/N. “As good as a visit through a piece of glass can go, I guess” Dean responded, not able to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I could hardly see her,” He added. The disappointment that Sam heard in his voice was obvious. Dean cleared his throat, shook his head and stuffed his hands into his own jacket. “She’s digging up some dirt on the deadly nurse” He filled him in.

“We can’t wait around too long, Dean,” Sam said impatiently. “Sammy, relax. It’s Y/N, the chick can dig up lore half asleep, running on a pack of cigarettes and a cup of Joe. She’s got this” Dean assured his brother. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “Even if she can’t do it, we could give it another day,” Dean added firmly.

Sam clenched his jaw, “No no no, we’re leaving tonight, and that’s it” He said stubbornly, “So we’re not gonna finish the job? We’re just gonna let these people die?” Dean gritted his teeth as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me that, alright? This was your stupid plan. And me and y/n went along with it, much to our demise, so we’re sticking to the plan, Dean” Sam kept his voice low but firm.

Dean’s nostrils flared as he ran his fingers along his bruised eye, “Okay, you leave. I’m gonna stay” Dean spat before turning on his heels to walk away. Sam’s eyes widened. “Hey, don’t turn away from me!” Sam shouted, “Fuck you!” Dean shot back angrily, “What?! Fuck you!!” Sam’s blood boiled as he grabbed his big brother by his shoulder, forcing him to look at him.

Dean instantly retaliated, shoving his little brother harshly by his chest. A herd of guards were instantly on their asses, one holding back Dean and another holding back Sam. “Alright, hard case. I see the usual methods ain’t gonna work with you!” The familiar guard said harshly as he tossed Dean into the other guard's hands.

“You too, sweetheart” He growled at Sam, snatching him by his shoulder. The Winchester brothers glared at each other as they were escorted from the prison yard and to the showers.

-

One of the guards shoved Sam and Dean into the shower as the familiar guard said, “Take off. I wanna handle this alone.” He instructed him, the subordinate listened, doing exactly as told. As he left the showers, the guard turned to the pair of brothers, approaching them slowly.

A smile broke out on his face as he ruffled Dean’s hair, the three men chuckling. “Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man” Dean groaned as they turned around, Deacon chuckled in response as he undid their handcuffs. “Sorry, Dean. I thought I was going easy on you” Deacon shot back playfully, undoing Sam’s handcuffs.

Dean laughed in response, “I’m just, uh, trying to make it look real” Deacon assured them as he unhooked the cuffs. “Yeah, well, mission accomplished,” Dean snorted. “Thanks for those phones, by the way, came in real handy” Dean said gratefully before patting his brother on his shoulder. “My brother here was missing his girl” He chuckled, earning a bitchface from Sam.

Deacon chuckled as he watched the Winchester brothers, finding the interaction slightly amusing. Sam was already pissed off for a few reasons, and Dean's words about him missing Jo just pissed him off more as he shoved him by his shoulder.

“Shut up. Speak for yourself” Sam hissed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s comment and shoving Dean back. Deacon chuckled once again at the exchange, “No worries, man. So, is it over?” Deacon asked them as he stuffed the handcuffs into his pockets.

“No, it turns out it wasn’t Moody” Sam sighed, “What?” Deacon's jaw dropped, “Yeah” Sam nodded. “Then who?” He asked, “Uh, we think it’s some nurse who used to work here. But we’re still shy on all the intel we need. Now my sister is working on it but we’re not sure if she’s gonna get the intel in time” Sam explained.

“Which is why we should stick around until we find it” Dean said, receiving a glare from Sam in return. “Oh, hey, guys” Deacon began as he pulled something out of his pocket, Sam started on Dean’s case. “You wanna have this fight for real, Dean?! We gotta go, we gotta go now!” Sam shouted at his brother.

“I’m just saying, Y/N will get it done!” Dean defended. “Guys-” Deacon tried to butt in. “We’re leaving, Dean! Otherwise we’ll be leaving in shackles for Milwaukee with Henricksen as company!” Sam argued, “Oh come on!” Dean scoffed, waving a dismissive hand at Sam. “Guys!!!” Deacon shouted.

“What?!” The Winchesters snapped in unison, turning to Deacon. The prison guard had an amused look on his face as he held up a paper, handing it to Dean. “Your girlfriend left this for you” Deacon chuckled. Dean's heart fluttered for a split second as he snatched the letter from Deacon.

Dean chuckled victoriously before turning to Sam, “I told you y/n would get it done!” Dean exclaimed triumphantly, waving the paper with the information on Nurse Glockner on it. “Man, I am fucking velvety smooth” Dean said smugly as he tore open the letter, “You wanna maybe open it, you know, after you’re done patting yourself on the back, loverboy??” Sam sassed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes Deacon snickered in amusement at the exchange between the brothers as Dean opened up the letter. “Wow,” Dean muttered as he read the information that was neatly written in Y/N’s handwriting. “What? Well, you wanna share with the class, Dean?” Sam asked impatiently.

“Glockner died in the old cell block right after Moody bit it” Dean informed them, Sam’s eyes widened as he and Deacon shared a panicked look. “Seems like they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle. They dragged her to a solitary cell, gave her a severe cerebral edema” Dean read. “Someone bashed her head in,” Sam gasped.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered, “Say where she’s buried?” Sam asked, “Yep. Seems like y/n already handled it” Dean nodded, a proud smile on his face at the fact that within a couple of hours, she got the information and took care of the spirit. Sam smiled in relief at this, “Alright, let’s get you the hell outta here” Deacon said before moving over to a vent in the showers. .

Sam and Dean nodded in obedience, “Boys, uh…I can’t thank you enough for this. I know it was asking a lot, but you two and your friend still came through.” Deacon said gratefully, “Your daddy and his friend raised you kids right” Deacon complimented them, Dean smiled softly, appreciating the compliment as Sam gulped.

“Well, we owed you” Sam assured him with a timid nod, placing his hand out to shake Deacon. The guard accepted, pulling Sam into a firm bro-hug. “I hope to see you again, huh? Just not in here, okay?” Deacon said to the pair as he hugged Dean. The three chuckled as they nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll do our best” Sam assured him, “Right, yeah” Dean laughed as they moved over to the vent. Dean then suddenly remembered something, turning back to Deacon with his fist up. “Oh. Where do you want it?” He smirked at Deacon. “What?” Deacon asked, confused.

Dean gave him his classic cheeky smile in hopes he’d get to punch him as a cover up of them escaping after Deacon practically beat the hell out of him. Realization dawned on the prison guard’s mind as he snorted, “Yeah, uhem..” He pointed to his cheek. Dean instantly reeled back his fist. “Uh-” Deacon stopped him.

Dean raised his brow at him, “Make it look real, son” Deacon smirked, Dean chuckled in return before nodding and reading his fist back. Sam instantly turned his head away as Dean right hooked Deacon across his jaw.

Deacon groaned in pain as he clutched his jaw in agony. Sam chuckled as Deacon continued grunting and groaning in pain, as Dean watched with a smirk on his face. “Damn, you sure know how to put some force behind those swings,” Deacon grunted, “I’ll be feeling that for days, man” He added, wincing as he spat out some blood from his mouth.

“That’s the idea, big guy,” Dean said gruffly as he patted him on the back. Deacon chuckled as he held his jaw, “That hit was for kneeing me” Dean retorted, patting his midsection.

____________________________________________

Sam and Dean appeared in the parking lot a few minutes later, quickly making their way over to the beloved car. “Hey!” Sam called out as they approached Y/N who was leaning against the Impala, smoking a cigarette. “Woahh, look at those handsome faces. I hope you fellas didn’t drop the soap” Y/N teased as she tossed the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with her boot.

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny” Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff as wrapped his arms around her shoulders into a quick hug, Y/N returned the hug as a smile stretched across Dean’s face, “Oh, baby. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” Dean muttered, eyeing his car. “Are you talking to me or the car?” Y/N teased as Sam stripped out of his jacket, he was yet to see Jo in the passenger side as they were all on the drivers side.

“I’m talking to the most beautiful girl I know who just so happens to be leaning up against my car” Dean smirked, Y/N rolled her eyes, she never failed to blush or get butterflies in her stomach whenever he would compliment her, especially with that mischievous smile that was a hundred times more sexier in the orange glow illuminated from the orange lamp in the parking lot.

“Don’t try to be smooth now, asshat” She chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. Dean wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her into him. He inhaled her scent which always seemed to soothe him as he buried his nose into the crook of her neck. Y/N smiled and tightened her grip around his waist.

Sam rolled his eyes at the two, crossing his arms over his chest. “I got a gift for you, Sammy” Y/N told him as she and Dean pulled away from the hug. Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, then a honk from the Impala caused him to jump. His heart stopped when he heard, “You better give me one of those hugs, Winchester” Jo’s voice filled his ears as she climbed out of the passenger side.

His eyes widened as he looked over at the passenger side, his breath hitched in his throat as his heart skipped a beat or twenty when he saw Jo, she closed the car door after hopping out. As quickly as he could, Sam wrapped his arms around her frame, hugging her tightly against his body as Jo chuckled softly, returning the same affection.

Sam buried his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent as Y/N watched in amusement alongside Dean as they leaned against the hood, watching the scene play out in front of them. “I’ve got a gift for you too” Dean smirked at Y/N, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Y/N looked up at him curious as to what ‘gift’ he had for her. Dean’s smirk grew, knowing that she would absolutely love it and probably laugh her ass off. “You do, huh?” She smirked back as she shoved her hands into her leather jacket.

“Mhm,” Dean responded with a small nod, his smirk still firmly in place in his face as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes he saved from when he won playing poker. “Tada” He said in a mockingly theatrical way, waving the pack in her face. Her eyes widened, excitement filling in them as she eagerly took the pack from him,

“Prison cigarettes?” She gasped mockingly, placing a hand over her mouth. “A man after my heart” She teased. “Something like that,” Dean responded, his smirk widening. He noticed the way her eyes lit up when he handed her the cigarettes, and her sarcastic comment made him chuckle. He loved seeing her excited and happy, even if it was over a simple thing like a pack of cigarettes.

“Ahem” Jo cleared her throat dramatically, leaning against the Impala with Sam beside her, a smug smile gracing his features. Dean and Y/N had seemingly forgotten Jo and Sam were right there. Y/N and Dean snapped out of their own little world and turned their attention to the other pair, who were casually leaning against the Impala, watching them with amused expressions on their faces.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed for not paying attention while Sam and Jo stood there, grinning at the two. “We don’t mean to break up the love fest, but we gotta go before they haul all our asses in jail” Jo joked as Sam opened the back door for her.

Y/N shot Jo a nasty glare for her comment, “Shut up, skank” She huffed in annoyance as she opened the drivers side door, the keys dangling in her hand. Dean smirked, a little bit of pink playing on his freckled nose. He would never get tired of watching her drive Baby. He climbed into the passenger's seat, while Sam got into the back next to Jo.

“Bite me, slut” Jo retorted, grinning widely as Y/N started the Impala. “Oh, I’ll bite you alright” Y/N threatened with a smirk, “I’m not promising you’ll like it though” She added as she shifted into drive and started pulling out of the parking lot. “Oh, baby I’ll like it” Jo winked playfully at Y/N, this made her roll her eyes as Dean bursted out into laughter.

“Jesus, you guys are gross” Sam muttered from the backseat with a roll of his eyes, Jo giggled as she elbowed him. Y/N heard his comment and flipped him off through the rearview mirror, causing him to scoff out a laugh.

When Dean’s laughter subsided, he narrowed his eyes at Y/N’s chest, and not for the reason you’re thinking of. A wide smirk graced his face, his eyes flickering to the back where Sam and Jo sat, the two seemingly now in their own bubble as they spoke. Dean gently bumped Y/N on her knee.

Y/N looked over at Dean in puzzlement, confused as to why he was smirking at her. “What?” She asked him. Dean nodded down to her chest, that smirk still plastered on his face. “Nice shirt” Dean mused, pointing out the fact that Y/N was wearing his Led Zeppelin shirt.

Y/N chuckled as she looked down at the shirt she was wearing. It was also one of Dean’s favorites, it was very worn-out and well-loved, but she loved wearing it. “Yeah, well I didn’t do laundry. You know I hate it” She responded teasingly, waving it off but he wasn’t dumb and knew that she stole it.

“Uh-huh” Dean hummed in amusement, seeing right through her excuse. “Sure you didn’t” He added sarcastically. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and shoved his shoulder playfully with her free hand, the other on the steering wheel.

“Whatever. It’s comfy, okay? Sue me” Y/N muttered, trying to change the subject. Dean shook his head with a light snort. The gesture went straight to his head, boasting his ego. He thought she looked unbelievably hot in them, but he was gonna only admit that to himself.

As Y/N drove, the car was filled with laughter, playful banter and casual conversation. Sam and Jo continued to tease each other in the backseat while Dean and Y/N engaged in their own conversation, practically in their own little bubble again. The atmosphere was light and carefree, a nice change of pace from the previous intense and dangerous situation from the prison.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hi beauties!! I hope you guys loved this episode because so far, it was one of my favorite’s to write for this season (Born Under A Bad Sign has a special place in my heart since it was the one I was most excited for🫶)

Now we all know which episode is next *coughs dramatically* I’m so freaking anxious for it gaaahhhhh😩

Can I just say, how I think this was a lot to unpack and how fucking TIRED I am of Dean and Y/N because they’re already acting like a damn couple but won’t ADMIT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER FUCKKKKK. I’M PHYSICALLY ILL BROOOO JESUSSS🥲

Okay, I’m done having my breakdown😭Once again, I hope everyone loved my interpretation of this episode, I’m not gonna lie, I really wanted y/n in prison😔

Tell me what you loved and what you hated about it, don’t be shy! Until the next episode…. *coughs dramatically again*

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr

Xoxo

[robininthelabyrinth]

A Better Lie - ao3

Fandom: The Untamed Pairing: Jin Guangyao/Nie Mingjue Summary:

Wait. This wasn't the Lan sect, with all its strict rules and stricter morality. This was the Nie. (Meng Yao identifies an opportunity.)

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

It was only a better lie, in the end.

A stroke of luck – or perhaps, of genius.

When he first heard Nie Mingjue’s shout, Meng Yao was still holding the sword he'd just used to kill the Nie commander, but he could feel it slipping out of his nerveless fingers. He could feel his mouth opening with instinctive denials - it wasn't me, it was Xue Yang, I didn't do it - all ridiculous, of course. It was him, and he did do it, and Nie Mingjue was staring at him with those horribly hurt eyes, already starting to fill with tears in a way they hadn't despite the strain of having his home attacked and his precious brother demanded as a hostage by the man who’d killed his father.

That hurt.

Not the tears, of course. Tears, Meng Yao knew well, were cheap. But he found himself displeased by what they meant: by the fact that he’d hurt Nie Mingjue, in a way even Wen Ruohan hadn’t, when Nie Mingjue was a man he’d come to…well, to appreciate. Nie Mingjue, who hadn't cared about Meng Yao's past or his mother even after he’d been told about it, who had given him opportunities beyond his wildest expectations, who – it seemed – had left an active battlefield in order to come find him because he was worried about him...

Nie Mingjue was going to have no choice but to find him guilty, Meng Yao knew. No matter what he said or did, that was Nie sect law, and Nie Mingjue believed in his sect’s laws the way he believed in the sun rising every day. He might be able to commute the sentence from execution into exile if Meng Yao did something brave, if for instance he used his body to shield Nie Mingjue from an attack that would no doubt be forthcoming because they were both literally standing there frozen in the middle of battle, but that was it, that was the best Meng Yao would be able to get. And exiling him would hurt Nie Mingjue, too, maybe even more than execution, because Meng Yao knew that Nie Mingjue loved him, even if the other man hadn't figured it out yet, and having to worry about him suffering would hurt Nie Mingjue even more than knowing he was dead.

And all because he'd broken the rules.

Rules. Hah! 

Meng Yao thought, briefly, about the Lan sect, that bastion of rules and inflexibility. Of Lan Xichen, who had been so kind to him during the classes Nie Mingjue had sent him to attend. Lan Xichen, who was a good gentleman, handsome and sympathetic. Who would make a reasonable second prospect to target now that Nie Mingjue was no longer an option...

No. What was he thinking? That was the brothel madam's voice in his head, not his own, not his mother, who had tried so hard to make him a gentleman rather than a whore.

Meng Yao didn't want to think like that. 

Of course, he didn't want to die, either.

So self-sacrifice and exile it would have to be, even if it hurt them both. Maybe he’d even go after Lan Xichen, too, if that was what it took - if Meng Yao couldn't have the love he really wanted, Nie Mingjue's unquestionable and unconditional affection which had been given to him freely when he had been at his lowest moments, then he might as well put his ambitions above all else. Over love, over morality, over all the stupid hypocritical loophole-riddled rules that nevertheless did not leave a loophole aside for him, because no rule allowed for murdering a man by stabbing him in the back, not even self-defense -

Wait.

This wasn't the Lan sect, with all its strict rules and stricter morality.

This was the Nie.

"Sect Leader, dodge!" Meng Yao roared, louder than he'd ever been in his life, mimicking to his best ability the stern grim-faced training master of the Nie sect who everyone listened to without question. 

Nie Mingjue was no exception, obedience to that voice boiled into his bones. He threw himself aside, causing Wen Zhuiliu's sword to miss and come hurtling towards Meng Yao himself. There was a split second where he could decide to just take the blow in some place that wouldn't cause permanent damage, just as there had been a split second for him to pick between throwing his body between Nie Mingjue and the sword instead of shouting him out of the way – a far more dramatic sort of rescue – but just as before, Meng Yao decided against it. 

He was taking a far bigger gamble. 

Meng Yao threw himself down, flat on his face, and Wen Zhuliu's sword went wide over his head. A moment later, as he'd hoped, Nie Mingjue rose up with Baxia in hand and murder in his eyes. Now that he was no longer being distracted by Meng Yao, he was able to see Wen Zhuliu turning towards him with deadly palm extended.

Meng Yao gritted his teeth and threw the Wen sword he'd picked up at Wen Zhuiliu's feet. It wouldn't get either of them much more than split-second of distraction, at best, but when you were fighting against a man like Nie Mingjue, you couldn't afford even that.

A split second later, saber met with palm, and Wen Zhuliu went flying. 

Clutching at his bloodied hand, looking shocked, the other man scuttled away not long thereafter, and with the real leader of the Wen forces humbled - it certainly wasn't Wen Chao they were following, no matter what he might lie to himself and think - the rest of them soon dispersed.

"My brother will not be going to any Wen training camp," Nie Mingjue spat after them, too genteel to follow it up with actual spit the way Meng Yao halfway wanted him to. "Not now, and not ever!"

Behind him, the rest of the Nie burst into spontaneous cheers, bellowing as loud as bulls. Even their guests, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, looked relieved and impressed - Nie Mingjue's fame was going to increase again, it seemed, as soon as they got back to Yunmeng and boasted of how the Nie, at least, certainly did not fear the power of the Wen sect.

"Meng Yao, with me," Nie Mingjue said when he was done with that, which was only as Meng Yao had expected. "Now."

Meng Yao bowed his head and scuttled after him into the receiving hall. Nie Mingjue threw Baxia over to her stand and sat heavily on the Nie sect throne, though not as heavily as he might have if he'd been injured and his sect the loser in the fight just now, burdened by his duty as sect leader and his worries as an older brother. 

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" he asked grimly. Or, well, he thought he was being grim, but Meng Yao could see the fear in his eyes - come up with something clever, Nie Mingjue was quietly begging, even though he would never know that that was what he was doing or admit it to himself if he did, please, please come up with something that means I don't need to kill you for your crimes. Don't taint this day with making me lose you. Don't make me have to lose you...

Meng Yao saluted deeply. 

"This humble Meng Yao admits his error," he said, hoping against hope that this gamble of his would work. "I should not have allowed my enthusiasm for a private duel to overcome my understanding of the bigger picture, putting myself over sect interests."

Nie Mingjue was stunned silent for a long moment. 

Meng Yao waited, hoping so hard that it hurt.

Please, he thought, now the one to beg silently. Please let him focus on the part that I need him to focus on, not the parts I need him to overlook. Please!

"...private duel?" Nie Mingjue finally said, and Meng Yao’s heart surged with elation. "You were – dueling?"

"Yes, Sect Leader," Meng Yao lied, using every ounce of guile he had to hide his joy behind a mask of contrition. "I formally challenged the commander yesterday in the late evening. He had tried to keep me from seeing to the prisoner Xue Yang at your order, contrary to protocol, and in doing so said something very rude about my mother."

That latter part was true, and of course there had been no one else around at the time. The Nie commander had always been good at making sure there weren't when he delivered his nastiest jibes, although he'd made enough milder ones in front of others that people would testify on Meng Yao's behalf if it came to that. 

He didn't think it would come to that. Nie Mingjue wanted to believe him.

"He accepted, but he was drunk at the time, so we agreed to postpone," Meng Yao added, adopting an apologetic tone. "Nevertheless, I admit that I let myself get carried away. A battlefield is no place to carry out private grudges -"

"He turned his back on you despite having accepted a duel with you?!" Nie Mingjue burst out, utterly incredulous, just as Meng Yao had hoped. "What was he thinking?!"

Probably that I was no threat, Meng Yao thought cynically, letting himself whole-heartedly lean into and believe the alternative universe where his lie had been the truth. That was the mark of a truly accomplished liar: the ability to genuinely believe, for however long necessary, that what he said was what it had really been. 

"What an idiot! Disrespectful, arrogant -" Nie Mingjue was raging, but he restrained himself after a moment, forcing himself to calm down. "Meng Yao, you're right, you should have known better than to proceed with a private duel while the sect was under attack. That is irresponsible, even if you got carried away by your feelings, and you will need to be punished appropriately. However, in light of your contributions in today's battle, I think we can reduce the number of strikes to - hm -"

"Two-thirds?" Meng Yao suggested, knowing that Nie Mingjue wanted to say half but couldn't quite bring himself to admit to that level of favoritism. That was the first thing Meng Yao had figured out about Nie Mingjue, in fact: he was dreadfully soft in the face of all he loved, but he desperately wanted to be a good man. And a good man, by the ancestral precepts of the Nie, was a harsh one, a just one, one who saw granting unnecessary mercy as weakness. "I can handle it, Sect Leader. It's only what I should do. As you said, Sect Leader, I should have known better. It was only that I got so angry..."

Meng Yao trailed off purposefully. 

As expected, Nie Mingjue picked up where he left off. "That's completely understandable," the man from a family and clan known for their uncontrollable rage said, nodding in absolute empathy. "But you must learn to channel your anger into the appropriate time and place. A considerable portion of Nie sect discipline and cultivation relates to that – ah, but you're still at the early stages there, having started as late as you did. Do not worry. Understanding will come in time."

Meng Yao bowed his head to hide his victory. 

He had remembered at the very last second that Nie sect principles did allow for manslaughter under certain circumstances, the way the rigid Lan sect rules did not. A proper duel, the challenge formally issued and agreed on by both parties, could be resumed at any time, and death was always a possibility; acting dishonorably wasn't permitted, so sneak attacks virtually never happened, but you were supposed to act as though you were at odds with a true enemy, never letting your guard down. Turning your back on someone you'd accept a duel with was an insult of the highest caliber. It mocked not only your opponent’s competence and ability, but their bravery - it looked down even upon their honor. 

A provocation that no one could resist.

Least of all someone starting to train in the Nie sect style, and thereby to have trouble controlling their temper!

If Nie Mingjue believed them to have been dueling, then the scene he'd happened upon looked very different. Temporary enemies united in the fight against the Wen, Meng Yao helping in the fight only to be disarmed, but then once the Wen were dead, matters breaking into strife once more: the Nie commander starting the fight back up, perhaps, saying some sneering words instead of helping Meng Yao up, insulting him, turning his back on him in even more blatant insult, and Meng Yao reaching in his unthinking rage to find the Wen sword at hand -

The Nie sect were notoriously emotional. Meng Yao wasn't, being far more inclined to put ruthless logic above all else, but men always judged others by their own measure. Nie Mingjue would evaluate the situation by putting himself in Meng Yao’s shoes, and under such circumstances, even Nie Mingjue might have been hard pressed to stay his hand (though obviously no one would be foolish enough to do such a thing to him, and he was likely to shout a warning anyway just because of who he was). True, it would never have happened, mostly because he would have also have had enough discipline to keep from killing his enemy in the middle of a battlefield. But he could understand it when someone else didn't manage to hold back to that degree. He could understand.

He could forgive.

And that was what mattered.

Maybe I should cultivate myself a reputation as a hair-trigger duelist, Meng Yao mused. Nie Mingjue would probably find that charming. I’d be like some yappy dog that tries to bite enemies three times the size – embarrassing, perhaps, but it would leave me a lot more leeway to eliminate my enemies.

Yes, I think I will do that. Plenty of the Nie already treat me as halfway to being Nie Mingjue's wife; this incident of forgiving a murder will only increase their respect for me, and a few more of the same, under permitted circumstances, will solidify it. The Nie sect has always respected aggression and violence. Showing more of that will make it easier for me to get my way when I really am half-master of the sect, with Nie Mingjue at my side.

And then, when the war with the Wen begins in earnest, it will be the Nie that will come out ascendant - the Nie which have never bowed, the Nie which have kept the rest of the cultivation world free through their own blood and valor, the Nie who everyone will owe for their lives and for the futures. Lan Xichen is an old friend of Nie Mingjue’s, and that Jiang sect puppy just now, Jiang Cheng, looked halfway in love with him after today's performance. They will happily support Nie Mingjue to be Chief Cultivator when Wen Ruohan is gone.

And Nie Mingjue, who hates paperwork so much, will give it all to me.

Jin Guangshan - 

Father -

In the end, you will be the one at the bottom of the stairs, and me at the top. You'll be the one to come begging me, wanting me to take your name, pretending it to be a privilege for me when in truth it will be one for you. You'll be the one groveling and sniffing around for the chance to rub off a little of my honor and status, to add my shine to yours, and the only thing you'll have to trade with is the surname I have always deserved, the one you owed it to my mother to give me. I'll accept it, oh yes, I’ll accept it, because it is mine and always should have been mine. But I’ll accept it at the time that I choose, the place that I choose, the manner that I choose, acting from strength rather than weakness.

You will come to me. Not the other way around.

Yes, that is how it will be.

You and that bitch wife of yours, you who both looked down upon me, who looked down upon my mother who had more value in her little finger than both of you put together: you'll both have to see me bow to her on my wedding day, to see her honored in front of the whole world by a man better than all of you put together. 

Meng Yao smiled. 

"Thank you, Sect Leader," he said. "I will learn. I promise you."

Nie Mingjue had that transfixed expression that always came on him when Meng Yao used that particular smile, the one he usually kept buried deep inside his heart - the cruel, vicious, hungry��one, the one that revealed his longing to dominate and devour everything in his path, cherishing only the selected few. The smile Meng Yao had once thought he would never be able to show anyone at all, least of all someone above him, because it revealed too much about what he was really like, not obedient nor submissive in the slightest.

The smile he had thought would only ever be met with repulsion and disgust, and certainly not looked upon with desire, the way Nie Mingjue did whenever he saw it.

"...you can call me by name in private," Nie Mingjue finally said. He looked half-hypnotized by his own fascination, and only grew more so when Meng Yao dropped the humble act and prowled towards him like the snarling vicious beast that he sometimes felt he was under his skin. "If - if you want."

"I do want," Meng Yao purred. "Thank you for the honor, Sect Leader...no. Nie Mingjue."

Nie Mingjue swallowed hard.

"We should celebrate tonight," Meng Yao said.

"...celebrate?"

"Yes, of course. It’s only fair, isn’t it? The whole Nie sect should have a chance to savor our victory. Your victory."

And mine.

[theblogwithoutfear]

karen page is so annoying in the show...is she better in the comics somehow or is she just like that

So I've actually wanted to talk about this forever, but I kept forgetting to make a post about it. Your ask is a perfect opportunity to write down all my thoughts. Brace yourself, because I have a lot to say. Sorry in advance lmao

I actually prefer Karen in the show. To be fair, I have not finished all the comics, but so far I think her TV counterpart is a lot better (I still like her a lot in the comics tho, don't get me wrong). The NMCU version of Karen Page also has a lot of Kirsten McDuffie (another comic book girlfriend) in her, which is great in my opinion.

A lot of people find her annoying, but to me it's her flaws that make her such a fantastic character. She isn't a caricature, stock-girlfriend character pulled from a box of tropes; she's a well-rounded individual, extremely realistic, a mirror of Matt Murdock, and a woman with real agency. Her actions have major consequences on the plot. In my opinion, a lot of superhero girlfriends (in comics, movies, TV, whatever) are written more like props than characters, and they don't have any agency or actual plot relevance. Which is why, when a lot of them die, their deaths feel so cheap and inconsequential. That's where fridging comes from. It's been a problem with superheroes since their very inception; and a problem in storytelling at large. So often in fiction, women are flat and unrealistic.

So to me, Karen's heavily-flawed character is refreshing. She is extremely impulsive; she's deeply intelligent, but makes such stupid decisions; she can be hypocritical, self-destructive, and petty. Sometimes she manipulates people, even unintentionally. She's very well-meaning, but constantly makes mistakes. And it's these mistakes that move the plot forward, and reveal important things about both her and Matt. Her actions have real consequences for the story, and she undertakes her own journey throughout the narrative. She is almost as much a protagonist as Matt is, in terms of her character development and growth.

For that matter, every one of the flaws that I listed are things that Matt does too. They are almost perfect mirrors of each other; people who are immensely concerned with justice and compassion, people who care for the truth, and people who want to make their city a better place. However, as they go about it, they stumble and make mistakes and endanger other people. They're hypocritical and contradictory and impulsive. They constantly have to call their own moralities into question, because they almost never live up to their high ideals.

(Also, as a side note, I think many of Karen's flaws—as with Matt's—come as a direct result of all the trauma she's been through: her mother's death, her brother's death, her alcoholism and drug addiction, her dad cutting her off, being framed for murder, almost getting murdered in prison, etc. So I think it's fair to give her some grace.)

But what makes both Karen and Matt so lovable, imo, is that they keep trying. No matter what mistakes they make, they get back up and try again. They do everything they can to atone for the blood on their hands.

I think also (and I'm not accusing you of this, just a certain subset of people in the fandom) that people are more willing to accept Matt's flaws than Karen's—because there's a lot of misogyny built into our society, and there's this ingrained idea that women have to be paragons of virtue. Women, both in fiction and in reality, tend to be put under a microscope and dissected, while men can get away with a lot more. So Matt and Karen have identical flaws, but only Karen gets hate for it, which makes me very sad.

It may be the writer in me, but imo flaws are what make a character—and a story—meaningful. A well-flawed character can take a ridiculous, implausible story and make it feel grounded and real and impactful. A well-flawed woman even more so. I love Karen for the same reason I love Jessica Jones and Wanda Maximoff; or, to go beyond Marvel, for the same reason I love Jo March and Katniss Everdeen and Miss Haversham and Katherina Molina. They all elevate their respective stories beyond the initial premise and plot. Flawed female characters are realistic and impactful, and therefore empowering.

Obviously, to each their own. Some people just find her annoying and don't like her personality, and that's fine. But for me, that's what makes her feel real, and that's why I love her.

[skylarsblue]

this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.

100% projecting here

pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).

i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.

✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦

(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)

✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦

✧Simon Riley✧

He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.

He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.

He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!

After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.

"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.

If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.

He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.

"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."

Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)

A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.

Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.

✧Johnny MacTavish✧

Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.

Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.

He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.

"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"

If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.

Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.

If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.

If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.

He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.

"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."

Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)

Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)

✧John Price✧

He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.

Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.

He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.

"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."

Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.

Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.

"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."

He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.

If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.

Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!

If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.

John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!

✧Kyle Garrick✧

Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.

He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.

"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."

Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.

If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.

Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.

"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."

Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.

He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.

Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.

He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.

If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.

You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.

If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.

He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.

"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."

He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.

Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.

If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)

Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.

Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.

"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"

Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.

✧Rodolfo Parra✧

Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.

He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.

Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.

He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.

"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."

He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.

He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!

Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.

"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."

Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.

If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)

If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.

(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")

[aerascreamer]

For some reason my mind has been overthinking the League of Assassins and Ra’s.

I feel like many portray Ra’s as a violent man potentially driven insane by the Pit who rules his subordinates with an iron fist. The Pit is used to many times as a plot device to create a purely evil villain to pit heroes against them, which is a cheap way to write plot and themes. Also historically, Ra’s been a very grey character, who has a very noble goal, did good things while also committing crimes.

To me, it doesn’t make sense for Ra’s to be a leader that rules by fear alone because:

1. He has seen countless kingdoms and empire fall, so he knows better than anyone that loyalty earns through ally ship and mutual aid works best, that giving them everything they need and basically buying them out of difficult situations (homelessness, war, famine etc.) would cement a positive association between him and them. Which leads me to:

2. Ra’s goal is to make the earth a better place, to bring back its glory. One obstacle is the capitalist imperialist and exploitative society that humanity came up with. He wants to dismantle harmful structures, which would be hypocritical if he acted the same ways as companies and tyrants operate by stepping on their people. So he build comfortable lives for the people working with, making sure he can give what other people or organisations can’t.

(And if he often has to prey on vulnerable and easily manipulated recruits, it is the price worth paying. And many have been happy to see improvement in their quality of live after joining.)

All this makes me think Ra’s would not abuse Damian like I see so often: punishing harshly for any mistakes, using physical violence “as a teaching moment” but is actually mindless torture or treating him like a dog

Instead, he’d be the kind of parent putting to put too many expectations, to wish for perfection, while positivity reinforcing the behaviour he wants out of Damian: Damian choosing training over leisure, him putting more hours than he should into studying and fighting, him reaching goals faster than anyone, him seeking to be mature and respected.

I’d say Ra’s would subtly pushing Damian into the path he wants by saying stuff like “the world’s time is not guaranteed, you cannot afford to lose precious minutes chasing butterflies. Go finish that ancient book” or “you mind can be distracted during battle, you need more training and meditation to focus.” “Good initiative to start learning that language, I think expect nothing less.” It would be counterproductive to beat Damian up to the point he’s bed ridden and losing days recovering.

And all this would make it difficult for Damian to choose between Gotham or Nanda Parbat: his childhood is no childhood a kid should have but at the same time, he still got praised by his grandfather, he still remembers all the life lessons, he still kept the deep desire to change to world for the better.

It still feels like family

[vividvivy]

HELLO VIVY!!!! I WISH THAT YOUR WORK WILL GET THE LOVE IT DESERVES! It's nice to see you here! <3 Congratulations!

I was just gonna ask if you have any headcanons about Fredrinn from mlbb? If you don't know anything about him its no problem you dont need to answer, most of the players are not interested in him 😭

THE HEADCANON CAN BE ABOUT ANYTHING! Anything you have in your mind! (Theres no enough content about him im hungry) HAVE A NICE DAYYY (*´︶`*)ฅ♡

Notes: Aaaah my first MLBB request omggg!! But fr!! Fredrinn is such an amazing character, it's such a pity that most aren't too interested in him :( Also, the layout is so ugly oh my gosh.

Character: Fredrinn Vance

Genre/Type: Headcanons

Fredrinn Vance

Fredrinn is a man known for being an excellent appraiser. He is capable of determining the worth of something with just a quick glimpse. 

He is also known for his realistic and candid behaviour.

May appear scary to most, but in reality, he's really goofy and impulsive with people he's close to!!

Would call you up saying he has an amazing idea, but it's the stupidest, riskiest, and most unnecessary mission he planned for funsies.. There's actually something to gain in it but he's gonna GATEKEEP THE LIVING SH*T OUT OF IT AND HE'LL BE REALLY CHEAP WHEN COMPENSATING YOU

Actually pretty nice and socialises, but he scares people when he "looks for friends."

By nice, I meant he'd do you lots of favours, but he'd count every single one of them, and you'd end up owing him a lot since he also added an interest that you were also not made aware of.

^ Remember the time he helped you pick up something you dropped? Yeah, that wasn't for free. Yep, no, nuh-uh, you owe him now.

His views and morals are pretty complex.

Is against House Vance's greediness, but at the same time, he also likes having money and property. 

If you actually ask him for something, he's only down if the money's ready.

Sometimes he actually acts decent, though, and will get you something or do something for you without charging you a month's worth of rent. 

^ Kinda rare tho

I don't know about you guys, but I feel like he'd be the type to think he's smart and "act smart," when in reality he's unironically one of the dumbest dumbfucks to roam the world.

His fridge is almost empty and he has weird eating habits.

He thinks he's hot shit when, in reality, he's a goofy hypocrite at times..

Wants to be serious and promotes seriousness, but would dogshow and embarrass you in front of people for his own entertainment. 

He sometimes, unironically, does the strawberry cow skip. LMFAO I'M SORRY FOR THIS ONE

Once tripped while trying to walk cool when he was younger.

His jokes have such bad timing that it makes your head hurt sometimes. 

VERY DRAMATIC, THINKS EVERYTHING HAS A HIDDEN MEANING AND THAT PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO BEEF WITH HIM. 😭

[olderthannetfic]

Probably hypocritical of me, because I got into poly through kink and then realized "Holy shit, this has potential for more." But damn I hate how so many poly ships, original and fandom, seem to mainly get advertised with a heavy focus on it being a kink, and all about bedroom dynamics. Even the writer's who claim to write it for visibility, so much of it has that undertone of "This is ok because it's a sex thing."

Also, alternatively it often feels like a bad harem ending from a cheap VisNov, where the characters don't actually have a personality beyond their appointed personality. When it comes to the guys, they always choose two of the most common female gaze character archetypes. Here's the "royal" one who's father puts immense pressure on him to be perfect. Here's the bad boy who happens to have a heart of gold. Here's the edgy emo goth dude who likes cute shit. Here's the smart one, who needs you to realize there's more to life than books and school. Choose two to be the F-MC's lovers.

Don't get me started on the girlies.

--

My experience is mostly with OT3s that are the three leads or a team of three or something. None of them are like this, including the ~for representation~ thing.

[tightjeansjavi]

❆ I’ll have a blue heartache for certain ❆

A/N: thank you to everyone who is sending me requests for things that Joel Miller deserves most in the world <3 this one is VERY angsty, so buckle up 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count : 2.9k~

pairing | Joel Miller x Kansas City informant f!reader

Summary: to Joel Miller, you’re nothing but an informant rat in his eyes.

Warnings: angst, mean old man Joel, morally gray reader, Joel is a bit of a hypocrite, a sprinkle of touch depravity, Ellie is her sweet self, implied age gap but reader is of legal age, grief, humiliation, hurt and comfort, a sprinkle of fluff, small mention of Christmas, allusion to child loss, talk of violence, kinda unrequited feelings, mutual understanding, sorta a happy ending? +18 minors dni!

“I don’t take kindly to strays, let alone fuckin’ rats, sweetheart.”

This was your first interaction with Joel Miller. All muscles, no heart, or so you had perceived him to be. He had a soft spot for the girl that trailed alongside him. You knew this was a fact, and not a matter of opinion.

Regardless, Joel didn’t respect you, but he tolerated you just enough to keep you alive. He didn’t want any business in knowing why you became an informant, but he had no problem calling you a rat straight to your face.

It wasn’t a lifestyle you wanted. It was a choice, but one based around survival. And for a man so brutish, you thought he would understand, empathize with you even. But instead you were met with cold, hardened stares from piercing brown eyes.

Your very existence vexed him and made him question whether he was a hypocrite himself. What difference was there between a man that murdered innocents for survival, and a woman that turned men like him in to save her own skin. He didn’t want the lines to be blurred. He didn’t want to empathize with the likes of you. He refused it.

“You and I aren’t so different after all, Joel.” You tried to reason with him one day during the tireless journey to Wyoming in search of Joel’s younger brother, Tommy.

Ellie was lengths ahead of you and him when he literally slammed on the breaks. His abrupt halt had you nearly colliding right into his back from how quickly he had stopped.

He whipped around, jaw ticked and eyes blazed with fury that you would even dare to compare yourself to him, and he to you.

“You and I are nothin’ alike. I had my reasons, and you chose to take the cheap way out. Don’t think that jus’ cus’ some time has passed out here that I’m suddenly gonna start bein’ nice to ya. You’re a fuckin’ fool if you think that to be true, girl. I will never view you as my equal.”

His words sliced through you like sharpened blades dipped in putrid poison, souring your gut and springing tears to the corner of your eyes. Joel Miller was one mean, mean man. You stood your ground, and he stood his. His eyes flickered when a silent tear rolled down your trembling cheek. He said nothing more on the matter.

“What’s the hold up back there?” Ellie had turned back around when she could no longer hear either yours or Joel’s footsteps close behind her.

Joel responded with a grunt and, “nothin’s the matter.”

You stood there dumbly with your fists clenched tightly at your sides when you tasted the salty residue of your single stray tear. You were angry at yourself for allowing this asshole to make you feel weak. One day Joel Miller would succumb to you. It would just take some time. And as far as you were concerned, there was plenty of it to go around.

The seasons began to change gradually, as they always do, until winter arrived and it was already proving to be a brutal one. Frigid temperatures, ongoing blizzards, treacherous deep snow. These changes that inevitably brought new challenges were visibly beginning to affect Joel more than he was willing to let on. You saw right through his facade. He couldn’t hide from your trained eyes that easily.

As night began to fall the three of you found yourselves situated in a cave near the river. Being this far out in the wilderness was peaceful in a sense. The threat of people was non-existent, and the infected stayed closer to the cities. Out here you could see billions upon billions of twinkling stars in the jet black sky. The northern lights, a natural feat that you had dreamed of seeing as a child. It was even more beautiful than you could ever imagine. Bright, brilliant hues of greens, blues, even some pinks.

You were so lost in a trance of nature’s beauty that you couldn’t feel Joel’s eyes staring you down. Or the way he took notice of your almost childlike wonder at the night sky. In his mind they were just stars. He’d seen plenty of them in his lifetime, sure, but were they really all that impressive?

He shook his head at the thought of humanizing the likes of you. A rat would always be a rat, and not even the damn northern lights could change his opinion on you.

“Ellie,” he gruffly said, “get down from there before you break your neck.” He sternly requested the teen who was also gazing up at the night sky in the same manner as you were.

Ellie let out a huff of air before she climbed down from the rock she was standing on and joined you and Joel by the fire.

“So, I’ve been thinking, let’s say we find the Fireflies, and it all works. They draw my blood and put it through their fancy machines and pop out a cure. Then what? Like, what do we do?”

Joel brought his flask of whiskey to his lips, taking a small swig to help warm him up, and also ease the constant ache in his back. “Didn’t realize there was gonna be a ‘we’ in this scenario.”

Ellie gave him a funny look, one that he raised a brow at. “Okay, fine. What are you doing then?”

In Joel’s mind it was never an option to think about these topics before. Not when his only goal in mind was to find Tommy, deliver Ellie to the Fireflies. From there? He really hadn’t thought about it.

“It’s never been an option for me..” he cleared his throat. “Maybe an old farmhouse, some land..a ranch. That sorta thing I guess.”

Ellie brought her knees up to her chest, scooting herself closer to the fire, closer to him. “Okay, so, old man Joel, some kinda ranch. What kind though?”

He grimaced at Ellie calling him old. He wasn’t that old was he? “Sheep.” His response was flat. “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep?” Ellie questioned.

“Yep. Sheep. They’re quiet, do what they’re told.”

You could feel yourself being drawn into their conversation bit by bit. You knew that Joel’s soft spot for Ellie was rising to the surface bit by bit, day by day.

“Sheep are nice. I mean, they are quiet, sure. But their wool is the best material to make sweaters, blankets—” you were cut off by his stern voice. Slicing you down yet again when you only had wished to be a part of the conversation.

“Ain’t nobody asked for your opinion.” Joel snapped.

“Joel..” Ellie let out a sigh. Her eyes met yours in an empathetic gaze. “Well, what about you? After all of this is said and done, where will you go?”

You ignored him entirely and instead focused all your attention on Ellie and her question. “I haven’t really thought about it either. Suppose that taking the ranch route wouldn’t be so bad. The country life is a peaceful one. Except, I think I’d have some cows..maybe some horses to keep my company.”

“Romantic” Ellie stifled a giggle. “Well, no offense to either of you, but I don’t think ranch life is for me. Sure, it sounds cozy, but all I’ve ever known is the QZ. In front of you there is a wall, and the ocean behind. There’s nowhere else to look but up.”

“Space?” You asked with genuine curiosity.

“Yes! I mean, look at it up there. So much still to be discovered. I read every book I could get my hands on in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell.” Ellie responded with pure enthusiasm.

“But you know who my favorite is?” Ellie leaned in close, awaiting both yours and Joel’s replies.

“Sally Ride.” You and Joel said in unison. Your heads snapped towards one another, eyes locking before he cleared his throat and tore his gaze from you.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever!” Ellie’s voice echoed through the opening of the cave.

“I’ll take the first watch.” You announced while grabbing your rifle from where it laid against one of the rock formations.

Joel was already standing up with his own rifle slung across his shoulder. “I got it.”

“Joel, I’ll take the first and you can take the second.” There was more you wanted to say, but with both his and Ellie’s eyes on you now, you refrained from saying more.

He responded with a curt nod before he made himself comfortable against the cave wall once more.

While you were up on the same rock that Ellie was on earlier, you could hear her and Joel still conversing. The conversation had taken a somber turn when she questioned whether the vaccine would work. Joel reassured her that it would, and Marlene knew what she was doing.

The last thing you heard was Joel telling Ellie to get some sleep and, “Dream of sheep ranches on the moon.”

He let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t quite tear through the strip of duct tape that he planned to use as a makeshift patch for his torn soles in his boot. Even the warmth from the fire couldn’t keep his toes at a comfortable temperature for long. The bitter chill was beginning to seep through the cracks of the worn material.

Can’t even fix my fuckin’ boot?

His internal thoughts plagued him. Made him feel weak, unreliable, a failure.

He tossed the roll of duct tape to the side with an irritated grumble. How the hell was he supposed to keep you and Ellie alive when he couldn’t even believe himself?

He refused to look in your direction when he heard the familiar crunching of snow beneath your boots. In his peripheral he saw your hand reach down and pick up the roll of duct tape.

“Need some help?” You asked, crouching down alongside him.

“Not from you.” His jaw ticked, nostrils flaring from the close proximity. It was as if you really were the plague, or some dreadful unnamed poison.

“So you’d rather let your toes freeze?” Your question hung heavy in the air. He reluctantly turned his head to the side. Eyes flitted upwards in brief contact before he scoffed,

“No. I’d rather not let my toes freeze.”

You tore off a strip of tape with your teeth, and only when he gave you the silent nod of approval, did you then assist in taping up his boot.

“If you clench your jaw any tighter, I’m afraid you're gonna end up breaking some teeth.” You murmured quietly. You tore off a few more pieces of tape and secured them around the hole in his boot. He was watching you intently as he tried to piece together your reasons for helping out someone who was so cruel to you. Why not just let his toes freeze and fall off? Why grace him with your kindness?

“Should hold for a few days I reckon.” You placed the roll of duct tape back into his bag while he watched you in silence.

“Look, you don’t have to answer this, but I just want to know the reason.”

“What reason?” He gruffly asked.

You sighed, leaning back against the cold cave wall. Your shoulders could have nearly brushed if it weren’t for how stiff he was sitting.

“The reason why you hate me so much, Joel.”

“Don’t be naive. I already told you that I have no respect for rats. You want me to fuckin’ say it again, huh?” He sneered.

“No. That’s not the reason. You think it is, but it’s not. Not when I know what you are too, Joel.”

“What the hell are y’goin’ on about? You’re an informer. A once FEDRA rat that probably sent god knows how many people to their deaths. People who were just trying to survive. People with families, friends, partners. You’re a selfish coward that only gave a damn about saving her own skin.”

You smiled sadly, resting your head back against the cave wall with your gloved hands between your knees. “And what about my own family that I was trying to keep alive? What about them, Joel?”

He didn’t know what to say. His words were lodged in his throat, trapped there and unable to escape. He never thought about you having a family. People you cared for as much as he cared for Ellie.

“I had a family once, Joel. People who I loved. And I would do anything I could to protect them and keep them alive. My parents were old. My siblings were too young. I was the eldest. Their only daughter that had enough fuckin’ guts to do some terrible, godawful things in the name of love. All for what? I failed them, Joel. I couldn’t keep them alive. Kathleen and her people overthrew FEDRA. Myself and my family were at the top of her list. She butchered them. Made it a public spectacle all because I helped turn her brother in with Henry. Her brother was a good man, he didn’t deserve to die, but neither did my family.”

“So, you can sit there and judge me. Call me a rat, a selfish coward, but then what of you? What do you see when you look into the river and see your reflection? I know what I see, Joel Miller. I see a man who is afraid of his own dark truths. His own skeletons in his closet.”

It felt better than you had expected to get this all off your chest. To tell this man your truth. To tell him the reasons for your actions. To show him that you weren’t so different after all.

He wanted to be angry at you. He wanted to scream, spit out hurtful words to beat you down further. He was a hypocrite all along and he felt humiliated down to his bare bones.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke just above a whisper.

“You’re only sorry because I’ve put you into a position where you’ve been forced to humanize me, Joel. You’re not actually sorry. You just feel like you should be.” You shook your head.

“No, that’s..not true. Darlin’, you’re right. You’re right about all of it. You see a man afraid of his own dark truths. I am that man. I’m the man that couldn’t keep his daughter safe. I couldn’t save her and I blamed myself for it everyday since. I couldn’t stop my own brother from losin’ himself entirely. I’m the reason he joined the Fireflies. He wanted to make a difference in the world, and I wanted to destroy it. All of it. I’ve got more blood on my hands than you could possibly ever imagine. I hate you because I hate myself.” He admitted.

“And yet I don’t hate you, Joel. I should, but I don’t. I can’t. I can’t hate someone who I see myself in. The ugly bits of survival, the bloodshed, the sacrifice. It’s all the same. We’ll do anything for the ones we love. It doesn’t make you and I monsters. No matter what our minds tell us what we are, we know the truth. We are all just people.”

Joel swallowed the visible lump growing in his throat. He could feel tears begin to prick the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away. His fists clenched at his sides. His breath shuddered when he felt your warm palm encasing his wrist. His head snapped in your direction from the contact. Brows furrowed, lips parting, eyes wide like a deers.

“It’s okay, Joel.” You whispered.

He finally wept. Ugly, snot filled silent sobs that wrecked through his entire being. And you were still there alongside him. His tears were finally allowed to freely fall, and you didn’t judge him for it, and he didn’t judge you when your own began to drip down your cheeks.

His sudden need for comfort increased when he shakily brought his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your cheek was squished against his chest. Your own arm draped around his middle, hand splayed across his covered stomach where you could feel each rise and fall of his lungs inhaling precious oxygen.

Sometimes human beings could find comfort in even those they viewed as strangers.

“Joel.” You whispered. Your tears had long since dried along your skin from the bitter cold. “What month do you think it is right now?”

He sniffled, gazing up at the night sky, and the millions of twinkling stars scattered about.

“December, I think.” He murmured softly.

“Oh,” you sighed, “I wonder if civilization still celebrates Christmas. I wonder if there’s any joy left in the world.”

You can feel his heartbeat through the layers he’s wearing. The subtle shift of his arm around you when it begins to grow numb from the position it’s locked in. He doesn’t let you go, however. He keeps holding you.

“I wonder that too, darlin.’” He rasped.

Your head lifts from laying against his chest. His eyes flicker down to yours. The embers from the fire still glow brightly, just enough that you can make out the warmth in his deep brown eyes as they land upon your face. “Well, if tonight happens to be Christmas Eve, then I wish you a Merry Christmas, Joel Miller.”

A smile tugs across the corner of his lips. His head dips down, lips brushing across your forehead in a tender sweep. “If tonight is Christmas Eve, then I wish you a Merry Christmas as well, darlin.’”

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[thunderg]

Wildest Dreams | Min Yoongi x Reader

a/n: Hi! if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Acting au, Forbidden Love.

Warning: Mention of Violence, "Cheating" (from Yoongi)

Wc: 1068

Yoongi looked through the crowd of people looking for them, he knew it was stupid to do so, that whatever had happened between the two of them should have been something from that moment, but his stupid heart hadn't absorbed it the way he wanted it to, he wanted to see the redhead so badly that he could already feel his hands trembling at not being able to find her.

"Is something wrong, honey?" Minah, his girlfriend looked at him with ‘concern’, she knew that the last thing she felt at that moment was interest in what he felt, she could see through that mask, she was only interested in him not embarrassing her in front of all the people and the press.

"No, it's alright, don't worry" he denied, trying not to look at her too much, just seeing her made him sick, he knew she was with him for the fame and money he could give her, but no doubt he thought it was pathetic how far she could go.

It was clear that he was trying to imitate the girl who had stolen his heart so abruptly in his last film, he had red hair and green contact lenses, even his clothes tried to resemble her as much as possible, but of course he looked like a cheap imitation to Minah, even with the most expensive clothes in the shop.

She pulled him towards a reporter, eager to brag about her boyfriend and how 'beautiful' she looked that night, she almost rolled her eyes at his action, she didn't even remember why he was still with her, maybe it was a habit? She didn't know, and the truth was, she didn't even want to think about it.

"How are you feeling on this beautiful night?"  the man asked, holding his microphone close to their faces.

Without even being able to process it, he replied "I feel like throwing up" eliciting an uncomfortable laugh from the reporter, for this was partly what he had become famous for, his terrible honesty, as the girl next to him would describe it.

He bit his lip, holding back a whimper of pain, Minah had never been one to show her displeasure gently, she always did the same thing, pinching him with those long plastic nails she wore, her skin so sensitive that when she left a party he could see little bruises on her arms.

"I'm sorry" The girl laughed "He's a bit nervous tonight"

"That's understandable, I understand this would be your biggest production so far, right?" Yoongi could only feel sorry for the poor man, he didn't feel like answering the typical questions.

He nodded slightly and turned to leave, "Oh, Miss Y/LN has arrived" Finally, the reporter said something interesting.

He looked out, there she was, getting out of a limousine, looking so beautiful that he felt like he was going to lose his breath, he longed for the days when he could hold her in his arms without fear of anyone seeing them, he missed those little freckles that adorned her cheeks, he wished he could go back to that time when he could kiss her as much as he wanted.

These months at her side had been the happiest moments of his life, he didn't care if it was a beautiful place or if he was supposed to be 'professional', all this structure bored him, he had more than once talked about how being an actor had never really been his dream, he had wanted so much to hide from the public eye that in circumstances like these he felt like a hypocrite.

But when he met her, he couldn't even remember the awkwardness of the situation, in fact, with her he felt capable of everything he hated or feared, with her by his side he felt seen, as if his presence in the world finally had a purpose, he was no longer destined to wander the world in search of his destiny, but of course all good things must come to an end.

He still remembered the last words she had said to him in the hotel room they shared, “I bet these moments together will haunt you, you'll remember me in your wildest dreams', at the time he hadn't wanted to accept it”, but she was damn right, he couldn't go through a single night without dreaming of her in his arms, tangled in the sheets of his room as the light of the sunset illuminated them.

Without caring about anything else, he approached her and held out his hand, the surprise in Y/N's eyes could not go unnoticed, she pulled herself together as fast as she could, Yoongi almost groaned at the feel of her skin against his, he had missed her so much.

"You know everyone is watching us, don't you? " She commented nervously, she knew he didn't care about the rest, but she did care about him, about how bad he might feel reading the snide remarks that would come out when he saw her like this.

"Stop thinking about them and concentrate on me" Yoongi cupped her chin gently, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her again, he had become addicted to her.

For a second he allowed himself to get lost in her gaze, she was doing things to him he never thought possible, shit, he felt like a teenager again, his hands were sweaty and his heart was racing, nervous to be with the girl he liked, he swallowed, the last thing he needed at this moment was to be portrayed with an embarrassing blush on his cheeks.

"It is impossible not to" she whispered, staring at him, stroking his jaw gently, almost as if he were an illusion created by her mind.

He brought his hand to her lips and kissed her with all the affection reserved only for her, it was more than clear that the kiss they both longed for would have to wait a little longer, but to see her again, to feel her skin against his, that waiting no longer seemed so tedious and pointless, He, Min Yoongi, was the luckiest man, he could say that he had the most beautiful woman in the world by his side, and maybe if they gave him a little more time, he would soon say that he had the most beautiful girlfriend in the world, the best? At last they belonged together, that was their destiny. 

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