#so sorry this is 10 gifs long do you understand how hard it was for me to narrow down to just 10 songs lmfao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ashwhowrites · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I love ur stories and I had an idea I was hoping you could write. If not I completely understand and respect that. I loved ur fic where Eddie was the popular one instead and everyone thought hellfire/his band was cool. So would you be able to write another popular Eddie Munson x shy/nerdy reader fic but instead it doesn’t deal with the whole upside it’s more so of Eddie is popular and gets paired with nerdy reader or kind of like a 10 things I hate about you sort of thing where there’s a bet and she finds out about it but a happy ending please:) if not completely fine. I hope you have a great day/night and wish all the best for you <3

I think this got a little long because I squeezed it all in one part. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Bet on me

It wasn't a shock that Eddie could get any girl he wanted. And his long list of the girls he dated could back that up. He never had anyone turn him down and that made him cocky. His friends loved it, boys will be boys. And boys love to play games.

"How was the date with Tracy?" Blake asked, one of Eddie's popular friends.

"It was alright. She was easy so that was nice" Eddie smirked, just another girl on the list.

"Well, you aren't the only one that got laid last night. I got Chrissy Cunningham, which puts me above you" Josh gloated. A pleased smile on his face as Eddie rolled his eyes.

"How did you land her? She's like forbidden" Eddie asked, a little hit to his ego.

"Either way, Josh is now at the top of the list. Getting closer to the $300" Blake said, writing down little dashes next to Josh's name.

"No way. I'm not losing $300. Who do I need to date to get me on the top?" Eddie asked, shoving Josh aside as he continued to brag.

"Um, how about..." Blake said as he looked around. Eddie watched as a twisted smirk showed up on his face. He looked back to Eddie with evil in his eye.

"Y/F/N"

Josh laughed out loud. A laugh so hard he smacked Eddie next to him.

"Dude there's no way she's going to agree to that!" Eddie argued. Y/N was the nerd of the school. There were a few nerds, but she was the smartest out of all of them. She was quiet and kept to herself. How the hell would Eddie get her to date him? How the hell would he even get a conversation started?

"Damn, then it looks like you can hand over that $300 now," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"If anyone can crack her, it'll be you," Blake said, encouraging Eddie as he hyped him up.

"I'll add $200 more if you can take her virginity," Josh smirked, knowing Eddie wouldn't shy away from a higher bet.

"Well gentleman, looks like I'm making $500" Eddie smirked as he walked off, heading towards her direction.

Y/N finished grabbing her books from her locker. She slammed the locker shut and jumped as Eddie leaned against the metal beside her.

"Y/N right?" He asked, putting on his best charming smile.

"Um yeah," she said quietly, not quite making eye contact with the popular boy.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?" He asked, putting his arm near her head as he leaned into her. He felt a blow to his ego when she stepped back.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we have much in common." She spoke quietly that he could barely hear her. But she walked past him.

It looked like Eddie had to put in more work than he was used to.

~~~

Eddie waited a few days before he talked to her again. He didn't want his sudden interest to be that suspicious.

He walked into his math class, heading straight for the teacher.

"Mr. Munson, what can I do for you?" The teacher sighed

"Can I get a tutor? I need to pass this next test or my uncle is gonna kick my ass." He said, not a full lie. Wayne was getting pissed off with Eddie's grades.

"Language," the teacher scolded, "but I'm glad you are finally accepting help. I have a few options, there is Char-"

"I want Y/N," Eddie said, well demanded.

"Y/N? She is my best student but she doesn't take well to tutoring the popular crowd" the teacher explained.

"I'll make her change her mind," Eddie said with a cocky smile

And just like that Y/N was in the palm of his hand.

~~~

It took a few days before the teacher assigned her to tutor him. She tried to fight it but the teacher refused. She was extremely confused as to why Eddie would request her, and the thought made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the small trailer. She looked down at the address on the piece of paper, making sure she was in the right place.

She looked up as she heard the door open. Spit caught in her throat as a shirtless and incredibly sweaty Eddie stood before her.

"Sorry. Was doing a workout, come on in" he said, stepping aside as she walked in. He pushed back his sweaty curls and closed the door.

"Do you want me to come back?" She asked. She felt extremely awkward that she interrupted a workout.

"No, you're fine. I'll just rinse off quickly and join you. Feel free to take a seat on the couch and help yourself to anything in the fridge" he said before he headed off into the bathroom.

She sat on the couch, taking in the small trailer. She could see baby photos of Eddie and an older man. The walls were covered in mugs and baseball caps. But it was a place of memories.

She grabbed out her books, pencils, and paper. She wasn't the type to help herself to something in the fridge so she sat and waited. She tried to shake away the thought of Eddie standing in the shower. The water dripped down his toned and tatted chest.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Eddie walked out, head down as he rang out his long hair. A loose muscle tank top covered his chest, and her eyes were locked on his arms. Then she looked down and took in his sweatpants. She looked away as he looked up. He tossed the towel back in the bathroom and walked to sit right next to her.

She shivered as she took in the smell of his shampoo and aftershave. She yelled at herself in her head to get a damn grip. But Eddie was attractive, everyone knew that. And she was simply a girl sitting next to the hottest boy in school, watching him get out of the shower.

"Where do we start?" He asked, smirking as she jumped out of her skin. He loved that behind all her walls, she was still a girl who found him attractive. At least now he knew what he could play at.

"With your last test," Y/N said, taking out his graded test and handing it over for him to look at. "Tell me what you don't understand" She looked up at him as she waited for him to answer.

"How you are so beautiful and don't have a boyfriend" he replied, his eyes looking nowhere near the paper.

"Oh...uh thanks," she said, "but I meant about the math, Eddie."

He sighed as his words seemed to not have any effect. She was able to compose herself and brush him off.

He figured he needed to earn a little friendship with her first. So he sat there for two hours doing math.

Y/N sighed in relief when the sky got dark and she had a reason to go home.

"Well it's getting dark so I better head out. You did very well today. I think we can get you around a C" she said as she stood up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" He asked, grabbing her hand and freezing her in her spot. "Maybe talk without it being about numbers?"

"I uh- I rode my bike here so I really should go home." She said, giving him a small smile as she released her hand from his.

She waved bye as she walked out the door.

Eddie sighed as the door closed. She was a lot harder to crack than he thought.

~~~

As the final bell rang, Eddie was already in the parking lot. He stood near the bike rack, not sure which one would have been hers.

"Oh hi, Eddie" she greeted him with a smile as she unlocked her bike.

"I was thinking, what if we put your bike in my van, and I'll drive you to my place tonight. Maybe stay for dinner?" He asked, his cocky smirk made her face heat up.

She looked around as students watched them interact. A few of his friends stared at them, and it made her nervous.

"Then I'll drive you home and you won't have to worry about biking in the dark," Eddie added, the final push to make her sigh and agree.

She sat nervously in his van as the music played through the speakers. She found herself humming along and drumming her fingers against her thighs.

Eddie smiled as he heard her softly singing, he was very surprised the shy nerd would listen to the same music as he did. He turned up the volume, winking towards her as she noticed.

"Don't stop, I like hearing you sing." He said, and for once he was honest.

Wait...did he like something about her?

They walked into the trailer and sat on the couch. For the first few hours, he stuck to the math, knowing she wouldn't move on unless they did.

"I'm starving, you hungry?" He asked as he stood up. His brain felt fried for squeezing in math for the past two days.

"I could eat" she smiled

"Follow me to the kitchen, milady" he joked as he held his arm out.

He silently cheered in his head as she laughed and took his arm. He walked them a few steps into the kitchen. He let go of her arm to look in his pantry.

"Mac n cheese?" He asked, taking out the small box.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N said as she took a seat at the small table.

Eddie began to prep the meal, trying to rank his brain for questions to ask.

"How come you wanted me to tutor you?" Y/N asked, her fingers drumming against the table.

"I wanted to get to know you," Eddie said, and it was the truth. He just had a different reason why he wanted to know her.

"But why? You've never noticed me before" She wasn't dumb. She knew Eddie wouldn't magically like her out of nowhere, no one did.

"But I noticed you now," he said, turning to look at her as the water boiled.

She accepted his answer and continued to drum her fingers against the table.

"Nervous habit?" He asked, nodding towards her fingers.

She felt her face blush as she clenched her hands into fits.

"A bit" she shrugged as she looked down

She heard him walking closer to her, her breathing picking up as he used his finger to lift up her chin. She stared at him like a love-sick puppy and he felt himself loving it.

"Why do I make you nervous, beautiful?" He whispered, she gulped as she bit at her lip. Eddie softly moved his hand up, his thumb yanking her bottom lip away from her teeth. A puff of air left her lips as she gasped. She tried not to squirm in her seat as he leaned down.

She was close enough to see every color in his eyes, every freckle on his skin, and just how pink his lips were.

"Is it because you like me?" He whispered. He smirked to himself when her eyes zoned in on his lips. He was cracking her down.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, her eyes snapped up to his eyes. He could see the panic, the fear, and the lust swimming together in her eyes.

"I- I've - don't know.." she trailed off, her eyes getting lost in his as the water boiled in the background. The only sound pulling her back to Earth.

"Never kissed someone have you?" He asked, his thumb softly rubbing her bottom lip again. She softly shook her head no.

She felt like she could breathe again when he stood up straight and removed his thumb. Space between them as she sucked in as much air as she could.

"That's a shame. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen" he winked, then turned around and finished making dinner.

He was collected, calm, and in charge.

She was a mess, anxiety-filled, and had no upper hand.

She got caught in the Eddie Munson spell.

~~~

Y/N felt awkward the next day at school. Knowing she was seconds away from kissing Eddie did something to her head.

He asked if she wanted him to kiss her. Did that mean he wanted to? Or was it a mind game he enjoyed? She knew his reputation and that relationships were not what girls went to him for.

She didn't have it in her to be used and tossed. She was far too sensitive for causal. As she walked through the hallway, her eyes caught a poster.

Hawkins Carnival

This weekend only

"Are you thinking about going?"

She turned her head as Eddie's voice filled her ears. He stood next to her, dressed to impress in his jacket and jeans.

"Oh, probably not. I'm not the best at those games." She said with a small laugh

Eddie knocked his shoulder against hers

"Half of it is strategy and the other half is physical. Which means if we team up, we could win and get our money's worth." Eddie explained

Did he want to spend his Saturday night at a carnival with Y/N?

Hell no. He wanted to be at a wild party and drinking until he forgot where he was.

But he had a bet to win.

"You want to go to the carnival together?" She asked, her head turned to the side as she looked at him. She felt the need to clarify what he was saying

He turned to catch her eyes

"It's a date then, sweetheart. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six." As always, he left with a wink that had her heart racing.

She was going on a date with Eddie.

~~~

Y/N barely slept that night. Her head filled with all the horrible things that could happen on the date. But also she allowed herself to get a little excited. Maybe she needed to not think so harshly about Eddie. Maybe he was a good guy and simply interested in her.

She sat on the front step, waiting for Eddie to pick her up. She took a deep breath as his van pulled up the street.

Eddie got out of his van and walked over to open her door.

"You look gorgeous," he said in awe. For once he saw her as more than the little nerd he met. Her glasses were gone, her hair loose on her shoulders, and simple touches of makeup that she probably didn't even need. He never realized how pretty she was just being casual. She always wore sweaters and skirts, but now her arms were bare as she wore a pink tank top. Her chest caught his eyes as he tried to look away. Then her smooth legs showed from her jean shorts.

"Oh thanks," she said shyly, "you look very handsome, Eddie." He wore a band T-shirt, his wrists covered in bracelets, black jeans with a red flannel tied around his skinny waist and his dirty sneakers.

For once in his life Eddie blushed

The drive was comfortable, and both sang along to the music. Eddie never realized how much he enjoyed her company.

The sun was still out and hot as they headed into the carnival. Eddie slipped his hand in hers, not saying a word about it as he walked up to the ticket booth. Once he paid for their tickets, they were walking hand in hand as they walked in.

The loud conversations filled her ears and the smell of popcorn filled her nose.

"Where should we start?" She asked, taking in all the rides and games.

"Bottle ring toss!" Eddie cheered as he walked them over to the small booth.

"Alright, gorgeous. What's my strategy?" He asked, handing the small bills over and receiving the rings.

Y/N leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Aim for the ones closest to you. And aim for the middle, it'll increase the chance that the ring will bounce onto one of the bottles."

She pulled back and stepped back, giving him space to toss.

And he did just as she said, tossing the ring into the middle. The small red ring landed on the bottle. He did it two more times and won.

He bowed as she clapped. The worker grabbed the small stuffed animal and handed it over. Eddie grabbed the small bear and happily handed it to Y/N.

She tucked the small bear under her arm and thanked him. He smiled and slid his hand back into hers as they continued to walk.

After two hours, they were hot and tired of walking around.

"Let's take a seat" Eddie groaned, sitting down on the bench. Y/N laughed but sat next to him.

With the moment to breathe, her head was spinning. She couldn't believe how much fun she was having with Eddie. How sweet he was and how he paid for everything, no questions.

"I'm so sweaty and hot" Eddie groaned, his curls all frizzy.

"Here, this might help," Y/N said as she stood up. Eddie watched confused as she walked behind him, and began to lift up his air. He breathed in relief as his hair was removed from his neck. He smiled to himself as she tied up his hair. A comforting feeling landed on his chest.

She used the binder on her wrist to tie up his hair, throwing it in a messy bun. She walked back in front of him and held out her hand.

"Let's go ride some rides and feel the wind"

Eddie smiled and grabbed her hand. He was actually having the time of his life. He was enjoying every second with her. And as he realized that, he felt a heavy amount of guilt fill his body.

Eddie blindly followed, focused on how terrible he felt.

"Ferris wheel?" She asked as they walked near it. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. They walked in line and got on the small cart.

Their bodies smashed together as the ride slowly began to move. Eddie felt sick and he didn't think it was because of the ride.

"The sun is setting. Look how beautiful it is!" Y/N said as she pointed off into the sky. Eddie followed her finger and took in the pinks and purples that decorated the sky.

The ride ticked and slowly came to a stop, their cart at the very top. Y/N hummed as she felt the nighttime breeze start to make it's way. Her hair softly blew in the wind as she reached for his hand.

"Eddie?"

He snapped out of his thoughts again, looking over at her.

"Yeah?" He asked. He took in how beautiful she looked as the sun set behind her. The way her hair blew out of her face, and the scent of her perfume made his heart race.

Fuck...he likes her

"I want you to kiss me" she whispered, her eyes looking down to his lips as she leaned in.

Eddie felt conflicted as her eyes closed and she leaned closer. He knew he should have stopped her, and he should have confessed. But he wanted to kiss her, even if it would be the only time.

Her lips touched his and his mind went blank. All he could feel was her lips. Her left hand moved up to softly touch his cheek. He softly kissed her back, his hand landing on her thigh. The kiss was short and sweet, but impactful.

She pulled away, nervously. She just had her first kiss with the most popular boy in school.

Eddie had the first kiss that ever made him feel something. He looked into her eyes as she waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He pressed his lips eagerly against hers, already missing the way they felt against his.

Eddie pulled up in her familiar driveway. His stomach filled with endless butterflies. He never knew he could like a girl so much.

"I had a great time, Eddie." She said softly, holding the small bear in her hands. "Thank you" She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then got out of the van.

Eddie watched as she walked into her house. Her lips lingered on his cheek and guilt lingered on his mind.

~~~

A week passed, and Eddie and Y/N spent the week doing math. And now that the weekend was here, Eddie took her on another date.

This time at a house party. Y/N wasn't totally interested but she wanted to be with Eddie.

Eddie was terrified, but he had a plan. He wanted to go on a date somewhere else but his friends forced him to come. He didn't want to cancel with her so he bit the dust and arrived.

He was going to call off the bet with his friends and explain it all to her and hopefully, it would work out.

They walked in and all eyes were on them. Y/N gripped Eddie's hand as she tried to hide his body as they walked through. Everyone took in her small black flowy dress and red lips. She felt pretty and tried to keep her head high.

The night went and Y/N was tasting alcohol for the first time. She was a smart girl but didn't know a limit. She lost Eddie in the crowd, but she was on the path to find him.

She was drunk, stumbling around, and about to do something so stupid.

"So I need to talk to you guys about Y/N." Eddie sighed, the alcohol doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Seems to be going very well, my man. Gonna hit it soon?" Josh asked, patting Eddie on the shoulder.

"About that-" but he was cut off when a body slid up next to his. He looked down as Y/N slid under his arm and cuddled into his side.

"I want to talk to you" Y/N whispered as she looked up at him. He looked down at her pouty red lips, craving nothing more than to kiss her.

"Alright. Let's go outside" Eddie offered

"I was actually thinking we could talk in the bedroom." She said, her finger trailing down his chest.

His friends whistled and Eddie was quick to grab her hand and walk her away.

"ATTA BOY MUNSON!"

Eddie groaned to himself as he flipped off his friends. Quickly rushing them up to the bedroom so he could confess everything before it was too late.

As they made it into the room, Y/N had more confidence than ever before. She pushed Eddie onto the bed, landing on his lap as she pressed her lips against his.

Eddie moaned as she rocked against his hips, but he had to focus on what was important. He held her hips still and pulled away from the kiss.

"I really need to talk to you," he said, she hummed but moved her lips to his neck.

"Talk to me," she said as she pulled away. He sighed in relief when she got off his lap.

"I need you to kn-" but the words died in his throat as she pushed down her dress. He felt a growl in the back of his throat as he took her in. The black bra and underwear looked amazing against her skin. He felt his cock grow hard as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she walked towards him again.

"Know what?" She whispered as she ran her hands up his thighs.

Eddie felt like he had an angel and devil on his shoulders. One side begging to cave and feel her wrapped around him. But the other side telling him to go any further would be wrong.

Before he could think of picking a side, the door flung open.

Y/N screeched and quickly grabbed the blanket off the bed. Eddie panicked as Josh walked in with a big smirk and a handful of cash in his hand.

"Well well well, Eddie you actually did it."

Eddie felt his blood run cold as he got off the bed. He snatched her dress and bra off the floor and handed it over to her.

"I'll be right back," he said before he harshly shoved Josh out the door.

Y/N was fast to get dressed, clipping on her bra as she immediately became sober. She slipped on her dress and cracked open the door.

"I don't want the fucking money. I want out." Eddie harshly whispered

"Oh come on Eddie. You put like three weeks into this bet, gonna quit now?" Josh scoffed

Y/N felt her stomach turn as she took in the words.

"Fine, you dated her so I'll give you the $300, but you didn't fuck her so you owe me the $200."

"You made a bet about me?" Y/N spoke, her voice cracking as she could feel the tightness in her throat. She opened the door wider, and the two boys froze upon her feet.

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the world crumbling around him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. He felt his heart ache as the tears fell down her cheeks and the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Yes but please let me explain!" Eddie begged, his voice wavering with nerves.

Before she could think, her right hand slapped across his cheek. The sound echoed down the hallway and Josh yelled out to the party. People rushed up the stairs as Y/N stared Eddie down with the most hateful look he had ever seen.

"I can't believe I ever thought you liked me. I fucking hate you." She said through her clenched teeth, hot tears running down her face as she shoved him. She was fast as she pushed through the crowd and raced down and out of the house.

"Y/N! WAIT!" Eddie screamed, feeling the sting on his cheek as he pushed through the crowd.

But by the time he made it out, she was gone.

~~~

He showed up at her house over and over, but she never opened the door.

He had no idea how to make things right but he would die trying.

Monday morning he was off. He stopped by the flower store, picking out the prettiest ones he could find.

He held them in a tight grip as he walked into the building. Half the school was at the party so eyes followed him as he walked to her locker.

She was back to her normal self. Glasses on and her hair up, a sweater on her body, and a skirt on her hips.

"Y/N?" He said gently

"Eddie don't" she sighed as she looked at him

"Please I can explain" he begged

"Explain? Eddie, I'm not an idiot. You don't think I know that people think I'm a joke? I get it, I was a funny target for your popular games. But the game is over so just leave me alone." She said, tears building in her eyes as she walked off to class.

"But you're not a joke! You mean so much more than that!" Eddie said, following behind her and grabbing her arm. She sighed as he stopped her, the eyes of everyone on them. But Eddie didn't care, he was focused on her.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you would have never looked my way otherwise. You would have never liked me and you wouldn't have tried to get to know me." She said and walked away.

It hurt but Eddie knew she was right.

~~~

Eddie left her alone for about a week. He wanted to give her time to cry, scream, or whatever she needed to feel. But he didn't give up on her.

It was hard for both of them. He watched her every move throughout school, and she fought hard to never look. She dropped out of tutoring, which he felt would happen. He still worked hard at math, wanting nothing more than to prove their time spent together was for something.

He missed her and she missed him. She still has the bear, she cuddles with it every night. Eddie slept with the moments they had.

Y/N sighed as she walked out of school. It was Friday and she couldn't wait to go home and sleep away everything she felt.

But of course, Eddie stood there at the bike rack

"Eddie" she groaned

"I know. You don't want to talk to me or see me. I respected that for as long as I could. But I need you to know that everything I felt was real. I fell for you." He explained, his eyes pleading for her to stay.

"How can I believe you? How can I look at you the same way? I-I...I'm so hurt, Eddie. I knew getting involved with you was a bad idea. From the first night, when all you did was flirt and try to make me one of those girls. You knew I was fragile, and you used that against me. You toyed me along and made me believe for once I could be someone worthy of someone like you. I had my guard up in the beginning, but you were so sweet-" she got choked up as tears fell down her face. "So sweet that I thought I was the bad guy for thinking so little about you. That maybe you aren't a bad guy and I should see where it goes. But you are that guy Eddie. You are that shallow, selfish, and asshole guy."

"I'm sorry, I know! I'm an asshole, I was selfish. I had bad intentions in mind and you didn't deserve that. But I mean it when I say that you are someone anyone could fall in love with. I've never felt the things I feel for you. The way you make my heart race and the way you make me blush. You make me want to be someone better. I don't want the endless girls and be that guy anymore. I want to be worthy to be with you." Eddie choked out, tears building in his eyes as he made himself vulnerable to her.

She bit her lip as she tried to keep her cries inside. Her heart broke seeing him cry and being so torn up about it.

"That night at the carnival changed everything. We were going out even more after that. All those times together were real. Please just let me fix this." He begged.

"If they didn't walk in, would you have slept with me? Complete the bet?" It was a question she was scared to ask.

"No," he said without a thought, "I was going to tell you that night, I swear. I wanted to tell you at the carnival but then we kissed and every thought I had vanished. Then I was going to tell you at the party, and once you wanted to go further I knew I wouldn't until you knew the truth. No matter how hard it was to think straight when you looked the way you did. But I would never have gone through with it."

Maybe it was a mistake and maybe she'd get burned. But just like the last few weeks, she believed him.

"I'm Y/N, the last guy I liked kinda was an asshole. Think you can make me forget about that?" She asked, a teasing smile on her face as she held out her hand

Eddie wiped his tears and shook her hand. "I'm Eddie. And I'm gonna try my damn best to do so."

And he did. She wanted to go extremely slow. She made them start as friends, slowly trusting him as the months went on. He was patient, in no rush as he worked to be the best for her.

After being friends for three months, she asked him to kiss her. And he gladly did.

Tags!

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icarusredwings · 1 month ago

Text

Thinking about Wade's Adhd and rejection sensitivity. Getting upset about inconveniences he can't control even when not mentally small, just becoming irationally overly upset over things that don't really affect much.

How he's been talking about a certain sandwitch all day long. Since noon, throughout the entire mission, and now he's yapping about it again on the 6 block walk to said sandwitch joint ran by a small immigrant family.

He keeps talking about how great it is. Logan didn't have this place in his timeline, so Wade is ampled excited to show him. Logan jokes with him how he sounds more excited to eat this sub then he is to suck dick.

Wade, with the most serious face, goes, "I can get dick anytime. They're only open 4 days a week and only from 1 to 5."

Logan notes this in the back of his mind for the future.

Just as they get there, Wade is telling Logan that they used to be open 10-5 but their daughter went to college, so now they are on their own. How these people have been so kind to him and told him that they started this shop for their daughter specifically. To give her a good life, they've been working hard to send her to college since day one.

As they roll up to the door, Wade's face drops. All of the glee and joy from his body evaporates and immediately he's just staring at the sign.

"Sorry, we're closed. Come back -" and then a small plastic clock that shown when they opened again tomorrow at 1 pm.

They're too late.

"Oh... well, that sucks." Logan mutters, hands in his pockets as he watches Wade look so utterly disappointed that even he begins to feel bad for him.

He puts a hand on his shoulder. "We can always come again tomorrow."

"B-but I...i wanted.." He starts to tear up, quickly moving to wipe his eyes, sniffling and shaking his head. "It's fine... okay.. tomarrow." He whispers, not only feeling pathetic for being so upset over a sandwitch store being closed, but now they had to walk all the way back home.

"...are you okay?"

"Yeah.. it's fine.." But it's clearly not fine. He fully understands that they were late, and thats why they were closed. He's not angry at them. He's not angry at logan either. Not even himself, really. He must have miscalculated the time. A pure mistake.

But on the way home, it's very obvious that this is a big deal. He's quiet. Staring at the ground as he walks, biting his nails, wiping a tear once inawhile.

It makes Logan frown, uncomfortable with the silence, knowing his mind was no where near silent at the moment. He knew it was turmoil in there, a loud and pouting mess.

"....do you want to get something else?"

"...no..." He whispers.

Logan observes his body language, watching how his eyes kept flickering and filling with a tear every now and again. How distant he becomes and almost... hugs himself... at one point. He knows that this is a much different response from when small him throws a tantrum or sulks. He looks as if he genuienly didn't want to be upset but just... is. As if he couldn't stop his overwhelming emotions from flooding his mind.

He takes his hand. "...is it because you wanted to show me?"

"No.. I mean.. kinda? But I just... I really wanted it."

"We can get it tomarrow?"

"I know. I can't... its hard to explain."

Logan gives his hand a squeeze, talking quietly.

"... is it a safe food?"

Wade nods, wiping another tear on his sleeve. It was one of the few things he could eat without puking. But that still wasn't why he was upset.

"Do you want me to make you a sub?"

He shakes his head. "It won't be the same."

"Im sure I can make it the sa-"

"No.. I mean... yes?? Im sorry, Peanut. It's... It's an experience thing.. I've had it in my head all day to go and get a sub from them. And now I can't check it off until tomorrow."

Oooh.. that makes sense. He had a checklist in his head. Something he needed to finish before he could go to bed. And now that this wasn't finished? He would have a hard time moving forward.

When they arrive home, Wade goes to hide in the corner of their bedroom, quiet and trying to think of something else he could do to distract his mean brain from yelling at him.

'What are you doing? You were supposed to go to the shop! Stop being lazy and just go! Come on! We've been waiting all day for this! ... Logan said he would eat a sub with us...But we were so good today...' They said.

"I know.." he muttered, putting on his headphones, hoping to drown them out.

It doesn't work. Now hes just laying in bed, rotting and staring at the ceiling while tears travel down the sides of his face. He's breathing a bit shakily.

'Why are we crying? Its just a sandwitch. It has nothing to do with the sandwich dipshit!! Are we bad..? Did we misbehave? Is that why Logan dosn't want to eat with us? Hey! Hello?? Were kind of starving here. Haven't even had anything today since breakfast. Im not hungry anymore. You're really pathetic you know that? Almost 50 years old crying over a fucking sandwitch.'

They were so loud that even with the volume up so high, he didn't hear Logan come in.

"Wade?" He waves a hand in front of him, watching as he jumps, looking up with such puffy red eyes.

"W-what?"

He puts down a plate. It's a sub.

Looking at it, he glances between him and the food multiple times, watching as Logan takes it, taking a bite and sitting next to him.

He doesn't say a word.

Now, Wade is crying for a different reason, his eyes softening as he smiles, gently leaning into him. "... Can I have a bite?"

"Of my dick or my sub?" He asks, glancing to him with a teasing look painted on his raised brow.

Wade giggles, nuzzling into his shoulder as he takes a big breath, sighing. Glancing at the door, he mutters. "Do you see this shit? And you all call me the nasty one."

Logan only smirks, a bit too proudly. "Says the guy who once-"

"Woah woah woah peanut! That's enough. This episode is rated pg. Sorry about that. God, such a potty mouth." He snickers, sitting up as Logan lets him take a bite from the end of the sub, Lady and the Tramp style.

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lila-lou · 10 days ago

Text

✨Taking her in - Pt. 10✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language, ANGST

Word Count: 8833

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

Dean’s breath caught, and for a moment, he looked like he had been struck by your question. His grip on your hands tightened, his eyes darkening with a mixture of emotions that he had been trying so hard to keep buried. He hesitated, his throat working as he tried to find the right words, the right way to respond without causing you more pain.

But the truth was, there was no easy answer. No way to say what he needed to say without it hurting both of you.

“I…”, Dean started, his voice thick with emotion. He looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the storm of feelings raging inside him. When he looked back at you, his eyes were full of a pain that made your heart ache.

“Yeah, I do”, he admitted finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I like you… more than I should. More than I have any right to”.

The admission seemed to cost him, and he looked down, his gaze dropping to your joined hands as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “But it doesn’t change anything, (Y/N). It can’t. I can’t… we can’t let this happen. It’s wrong”.

His words were filled with so much regret, so much self-reproach, that it made your heart break for him. But even though his answer was what you had feared, it was also what you had needed to hear. The fact that he felt the same way you did, that he was struggling just as much, brought a bittersweet sense of relief.

“Dean…”, you whispered, trying to find the right words, but they eluded you. Instead, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey everything you were feeling—your love, your hurt, your understanding—through that simple gesture.

Dean finally looked up, meeting your gaze, and the depth of emotion in his eyes made your breath catch. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking, the weight of his guilt and his feelings tearing him apart.

“I’m so sorry”, he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you”.

You shook your head, tears spilling over as you leaned in closer, your voice trembling as you replied, “You haven’t hurt me, Dean. Not like you think. I just… I just wish things were different”.

Dean’s expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes didn’t fade. “So do I”, he murmured, his voice barely audible. “But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make this right”.

Your voice trembled as you fought to keep your emotions in check, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I can learn, Dean. I can be what you need, the woman you need. I—". You were rambling, the desperation in your voice growing as you tried to find a way to convince him, to make him see that this could work, that you could be what he needed. But before you could finish, Dean gently placed a finger over your lips, silencing you with a soft, pained expression.

"Stop, (Y/N)", he whispered, his voice filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. He removed his finger, replacing it with his hand, cradling your cheek tenderly as he looked into your eyes. "This isn’t about you not being enough. You are enough, more than enough. But this… it’s not something you can just learn or change for. It’s not something we can fix by pretending it’s different than it is".

His thumb gently brushed away a few tears, his touch achingly tender. "You deserve someone who can love you without all the complications, without all the baggage. Someone who can be there for you in every way without feeling like they’re crossing a line they shouldn’t. And as much as I… as much as I care about you, I can’t be that person".

His words were like a knife to your heart, but there was no anger in them, only regret and a deep, abiding sadness. He was trying to protect you, even if it meant breaking both of your hearts in the process.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you shook your head, not wanting to accept what he was saying. "But I don’t want someone else", you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "I want you, Dean. I’ve always wanted you".

Dean closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he absorbed the weight of your words. He wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go, to tell you that he wanted you just as badly. But he knew he couldn’t, knew that if he did, it would only make things harder for both of you in the long run.

When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with a mixture of love and resignation. "I know", he murmured, his voice hoarse. "And that’s what makes this so damn hard. But I can’t be what you need, and I can’t let you be with someone who isn’t right for you. You deserve better, (Y/N). You deserve more than what I can give you".

His words hung in the air, heavy and final. Dean’s hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he slowly let it drop, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling cold and empty.

"I’m sorry", he whispered, the pain in his voice cutting through you like a knife. "I’m so sorry".

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the war he was fighting within himself. Every fiber of his being wanted to pull you close, to hold onto you and never let go. But he was forcing himself to walk away, to do what he believed was the right thing, even though it was tearing him apart inside.

As the reality of Dean’s words settled in, the weight of everything that had transpired between you became unbearable. The dam of emotions you had been holding back broke, and before you knew it, you were sobbing in front of him, your shoulders shaking with the force of your tears. It felt like your heart was shattering into a million pieces, the rawness of your pain spilling out uncontrollably.

Dean watched you, his own heart breaking at the sight. Every tear that fell from your eyes felt like a knife twisting in his chest. He wanted so desperately to reach out, to pull you into his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, that he would make it better somehow. But he knew that would be a lie, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you more by giving you false hope.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his entire body tense with the effort of holding himself back. It took everything in him to stay where he was, to keep himself from crossing that line again. He wanted you— he wanted you so badly it physically hurt. But he knew that wanting wasn’t enough. He had to be the grown-up here, the one to make the hard decision, even if it was killing him inside.

Dean took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay strong, to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you like this”.

Your sobs only grew louder, the pain in your chest intensifying with every breath.

Dean stood there for a moment, his heart twisting painfully as he watched you break down in front of him. The urge to stay, to comfort you, was overwhelming, but he knew that staying any longer would only make things worse. He took a slow, steadying breath, trying to push back the emotions threatening to spill over. With a heavy heart, he finally rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, as if every step away from you was an immense effort.

He looked down at you, his chest tightening at the sight of your tear-streaked face and trembling form. The sound of your sobs, the way you were crumpled on the bed, broke something inside him. He wanted so desperately to erase the pain he had caused, but he knew that the only way to do that was to step back, to give you the space you needed to heal.

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “How are we supposed to go back to how things were before?”.

Dean’s heart clenched at your words. He didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know how to go back, didn’t even know if it was possible. The connection between you had been irrevocably changed, and there was no denying it. But he also knew that you couldn’t move forward in the way you both might have wanted. It was a cruel paradox, one that left him feeling helpless and lost.

“I don’t know”, Dean admitted, his voice thick with sorrow. “I wish I did, but I don’t. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so damn sorry”.

He wanted to say more, to offer some kind of reassurance, but the words failed him. All he could do was stand there, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep himself from falling apart. Seeing you like this was tearing him up inside, but he knew that he couldn’t be the one to fix it, not this time.

Finally, he forced himself to move, to turn away from the heart-wrenching sight of you sitting there, broken and crying. Each step he took felt like a betrayal, like he was abandoning you in your time of need, but he knew that staying would only make things harder for both of you.

As he reached the door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He looked back at you one last time, his eyes filled with a deep, aching regret. “I’ll always be here if you need me”, he said softly, his voice almost breaking. “But I think we both need some space right now”.

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it quietly behind him. The sound of the door clicking shut was like a final nail in the coffin of whatever could have been, leaving you alone with your grief.

In the silence that followed, the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on you, and you felt more lost than ever.

Dean, on the other side of the door, leaned back against the wall, his hands covering his face as he tried to compose himself. The pain of leaving you like that, of knowing that he had shattered something so precious, was almost unbearable. But he knew that he had to be the strong one, had to be the one to step back and let you heal, no matter how much it hurt him.

Dean had left the same day, his departure abrupt and without much explanation. He told the others, even Sam, that he needed to help Cas and Jack with a situation back at the bunker, and while it wasn’t entirely a lie, it was also clear that he needed to put some distance between himself and what had happened in Montana. The weight of what he had done, the guilt and confusion, was too much for him to bear while staying close to you.

You, on the other hand, stayed behind in Montana for a few more days, trying to process everything that had happened. The pain of Dean leaving, of how things had ended between you, was still raw, but you were determined not to let it consume you. You had made a decision: when you saw Dean again, you would act as though nothing had happened. It was the only way you could think to protect yourself, to keep from feeling that kind of vulnerability again.

When you and Sam finally drove back to the bunker, the miles seemed to stretch on endlessly. The thought of seeing Dean again after over a week filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation. You hadn’t spoken to him since he left, and the silence between you had only made the ache in your chest grow stronger. But you were resolved to stick to your plan—pretend that nothing had changed, that the night in Montana hadn’t happened. It was the only way you knew to keep yourself from falling apart.

As you pulled into the bunker’s garage, the familiar sight of the Impala parked inside sent a jolt through you. Dean was here. Your heart raced, your palms sweaty as you tried to calm yourself. Sam seemed oblivious to your inner turmoil, chatting casually about the drive and what you might find waiting for you inside. You forced yourself to respond, to act like everything was normal, even though your nerves were shot.

Stepping inside the bunker, you were greeted by the familiar sounds and smells of home. The faint scent of coffee from the kitchen, the low hum of the bunker’s systems—everything was as it should be, except for the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. You hadn’t seen Dean yet, and the anticipation was killing you.

“Hey, we’re back!”, Sam called out as he dropped his bag by the door, his voice echoing slightly in the large space.

A few moments later, you heard footsteps approaching, and then Dean appeared from around the corner. He looked much the same as when you last saw him, but there was a tightness in his expression, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before. His eyes flicked to you briefly, but then quickly shifted to Sam.

“Hey”, Dean greeted, his voice steady, but lacking the usual warmth. “How was the drive?”.

Sam shrugged, oblivious to the tension between you and Dean. “Long, but it’s good to be back. How are things here?”.

Dean gave a small nod. “Fine. Cas and Jack are in the library, still working on that creature situation”. His eyes darted to you for a split second before looking away again. “I’ll catch up with you later. Got some things to take care of”.

Without waiting for a response, Dean turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with Sam. The brief encounter had left you rattled, but you were determined to stick to your plan. You took a deep breath, pushing down the flood of emotions that threatened to surface.

Sam looked at you curiously, sensing something off. “You okay?”.

You forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, just tired. I think I’ll go unpack and get settled”.

Sam nodded, still watching you with a hint of concern, but he didn’t press the issue. You were grateful for that. As you headed to your room, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, of wanting things to be different, but you steeled yourself. You had made a decision, and you were going to stick to it, no matter how much it hurt.

The days that followed were tense, filled with unspoken words and careful avoidance. You and Dean managed to stay out of each other’s way for the most part, both of you clearly trying to navigate the new, fragile dynamic that had formed. The others didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, they didn’t mention it, and you were grateful for the small mercy.

But each day that passed without resolving the tension between you only made the weight heavier, the pain more acute. You wanted so badly to talk to him, to clear the air, but the fear of being hurt again kept you silent. So you kept up the act, pretending that nothing had changed, even though every moment spent near him was a reminder of just how much it had.

It had been two long, agonizing months since that night in Montana, and in all that time, you and Dean hadn’t exchanged a single word. The tension between you had only grown more palpable, like a heavy weight pressing down on the bunker. Even Sam, who usually respected your space, had started to notice that something was off. His concerned glances and probing questions only made it harder to maintain the facade that everything was fine.

But you had managed, somehow, to keep your feelings at bay. You buried yourself in research, and anything that could keep your mind occupied and away from thoughts of Dean. The walls you had built around yourself were solid, but they didn’t stop the occasional pang of longing or the hollow ache that settled in your chest whenever you caught a glimpse of Dean from across the room.

You walked down the hallway with a sense of determination, each step feeling heavier as you approached the library. The summer dress you chose was light, airy, and made you feel like a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a deliberate choice, a small act of defiance against the overwhelming tension that had suffocated you for weeks. In your hand, you carried a large bag, filled with everything you might need for an afternoon at the lake—towels, sunscreen, and a book you probably wouldn’t read. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind, and find some peace.

As you entered the library, you spotted Sam and Dean at the table, deep in research. Sam looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. Dean, however, didn’t glance your way, his focus seemingly glued to the stack of papers in front of him. The sight of him sitting there, so close yet so unreachable, made your chest tighten, but you pushed the feeling down, determined not to let it show.

Without a word, you walked over to the table and sat down beside Sam, placing your bag on the floor beside you. The silence in the room was thick, almost suffocating.

Sam finally broke the silence, his voice gentle but probing. “Where are you headed?”, he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying concern that you could hear clearly.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m going to the lake”, you said, forcing a small smile. “I figured I’d go swimming, clear my head a bit”.

Sam’s brow furrowed slightly, his concern deepening. “By yourself?”.

You hesitated for just a second before answering, hoping it sounded casual enough. “No, I’m just waiting on Jack. He said he’d meet me here”.

Dean’s eyes flickered up for just a second when you mentioned Jack, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he quickly returned his focus to the papers in front of him. The brief moment of eye contact sent a jolt through you, but you pushed it aside, determined to stick to your plan.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You could feel Sam’s gaze still on you, his concern palpable, but before you could say anything else, there was a sudden rush of air behind you, followed by a soft thud.

You jumped, startled, and turned around quickly to find Jack standing there, his expression a mix of excitement and mild confusion. He had clearly teleported in, something he was still getting used to, and it showed in the slightly disoriented look on his face.

“Hey!”, Jack said brightly, his voice cutting through the tension like a ray of sunshine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and gave him a small smile. “No worries, Jack. Just wasn’t expecting that”.

Jack grinned, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you, Sam, and Dean. “I’m ready whenever you are”, he said, glancing at the bag by your side. “This should be fun”.

Sam gave Jack a warm smile, though his concern for you hadn’t entirely faded. “Take care of her, Jack”, he said, his tone half-joking but with an edge of seriousness.

Jack nodded earnestly. “I will”.

You stood up, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. You hoped that some time at the lake would help clear your head, even if just for a little while.

You barely had time to finish your sentence—“Are we taking a car, or—”—before Jack grabbed your wrist with a smile. In the blink of an eye, the library of the bunker vanished, replaced by the serene, quiet bay of the lake. The sudden shift left you momentarily disoriented, the cool breeze and the scent of water filling your senses.

“Wow, that was fast”, you muttered, trying to steady yourself as you took in your new surroundings. The lake was calm, the water reflecting the sky’s soft hues, and the quiet was a welcome change from the tension that had gripped you for so long. It was exactly what you needed—a place to breathe, to think, without the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Jack looked pleased with himself, clearly happy to have gotten you here so quickly. “I thought you might want to skip the drive”, he said, grinning. “Plus, I think this spot is perfect. It’s quiet, away from everything”.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Thanks, Jack”.

Meanwhile, back in the bunker, Dean and Sam exchanged a glance as the last remnants of the teleportation shimmered away. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Dean’s expression—a mixture of concern and exasperation.

“Well”, Dean mumbled “now we’ve got two puppies running free out there”.

Sam’s chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Yeah, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Jack’s good company, and she could use a break”.

Dean grunted in response, but there was a tension in his posture that he couldn’t quite shake. He tried to focus on the papers in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to you. The thought of you out there, trying to find some peace, only reminded him of how much he had failed to provide that for you. He didn’t want to admit it, but the idea of you being away from the bunker, possibly meeting new people, made his chest tighten with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

Sam noticed the way Dean’s shoulders tensed, the way he seemed more distracted than usual. “You know”, Sam said, his tone carefully neutral, “it’s okay to be worried. But Jack’s not going to let anything happen to her”.

Dean looked up at Sam, his green eyes hard but reflective. “I know”, he muttered, his voice gruff.

Sam could sense the shift in Dean’s demeanor, the way his brother’s usual calm and focused exterior had been replaced with something more restless, something troubled. It wasn’t like Dean to be so distracted, especially not when it came to hunting or research. But ever since the trip to Montana, Sam had noticed a growing tension between you and Dean, a tension that had only seemed to deepen as the weeks went by.

Sam didn’t want to push too hard—he knew Dean well enough to understand that prying would only make him shut down further—but he also couldn’t just ignore the elephant in the room. He waited for the right moment, letting the silence stretch between them as Dean pretended to focus on the papers in front of him. But Sam knew better; Dean hadn’t turned a page in nearly ten minutes.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Sam looked over at his brother, his voice gentle but probing. “Dean… what happened between you two?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened at the question, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to stare down at the papers. For a moment, Sam thought he might not answer, that he’d brush it off like he usually did when things got too personal. But then Dean let out a long, slow breath, and Sam could see the tension in his shoulders ease, just a little.

Dean didn’t look up, his voice low and rough when he finally spoke. “I messed up, Sammy”. he admitted, the weight of those words heavy with regret.

Sam’s brow furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Did something happen between you two?”.

Dean finally looked up, meeting Sam’s gaze for the first time. The guilt and frustration in his eyes were clear, and it made Sam’s heart ache for him. Dean had always been hard on himself, always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but this was different. This was personal, something that had cut him deeper than any hunt ever could.

“Yeah, something happened”, Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve been trying to fix it ever since, but… I don’t know if I can”.

Sam could sense the weight of what Dean was about to say, the way his brother’s voice trembled slightly with the admission. It was rare to see Dean this vulnerable, this unsure of himself, and it made Sam feel a deep sense of concern. He knew that whatever had happened between you two had shaken Dean to his core, and the fact that Dean was willing to talk about it, even a little, meant that it was eating him up inside.

Sam hesitated, not wanting to push too hard but also needing to understand the full extent of what had happened. He needed to know how bad things were, if there was any way to help Dean navigate through this mess. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but insistent as he pressed further.

“Dean”, Sam began cautiously, his heart pounding a little faster. “Did you… you know, did you guys…?”. He didn’t finish the sentence, letting the question hang in the air. Sam didn’t need to say the words; the meaning was clear enough.

Dean sighed heavily, the sound filled with exhaustion and frustration. He rubbed his temple, as if trying to ward off a headache or push away the memories that were clearly haunting him. The weight of the situation was evident in every line of his face, and the admission he was about to make seemed to take an enormous amount of effort.

“No, I didn’t sleep with her”, he mumbled, his voice strained and filled with regret. There was a noticeable relief in his tone, but it was overshadowed by the lingering weight of everything else that had transpired.

Sam’s brows furrowed in concern, sensing that there was more to the story. “But?”, he prompted gently, leaning in slightly as he tried to understand what was eating away at his brother.

Dean hesitated, his eyes darting away from Sam’s gaze. He seemed to be struggling with how to put his thoughts into words, how to explain the situation without diving too deep into the pain and confusion he was feeling.

“But… I let things get out of control”, Dean finally admitted, his voice thick with guilt.

Dean’s breath hitched as he tried to find the right words, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of what he was about to confess. “We kissed, Sam”, he admitted, his tone heavy with regret. “Not just once, but twice. And… the second time… it was different”.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, sensing that Dean needed to get this off his chest. He could see the turmoil in his brother’s eyes, the way Dean was struggling to articulate what had happened, and it made his own heart ache for him.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, the frustration and guilt evident in every line of his face. “The second time, it wasn’t just a kiss. I mean, it started that way, but then… then it went further. She was… I didn’t even touched her much.. but… she… came. Right there in my arms, just from… just from the way we were together”.

Dean’s voice cracked as he spoke, the memory of that night clearly haunting him. The intensity of the moment, the way your body had responded to his, had shaken him to his core. It was something he hadn’t expected, something that had left him reeling in its aftermath.

Sam’s expression softened, a mix of surprise and concern washing over him as he processed what Dean was saying. He knew how much Dean cared about you, how deeply those feelings ran, but hearing the raw honesty in his brother’s voice made it clear just how complicated things had become.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice gentle, not quite sure how to respond. He could see the guilt eating away at Dean, the way he was blaming himself for something that was clearly more complicated than he was letting on. “It sounds like… it wasn’t just you. She felt something too, right? This wasn’t just you losing control”.

Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep sense of self-reproach. “I should’ve stopped it, Sam. I should’ve pulled away, kept things from getting that far. But I didn’t, and now everything’s fucked up. She’s… she’s like family to us. She’s like my little sister, and she trusts me. And I… I betrayed that trust”.

Sam sighed deeply, feeling the weight of Dean’s words settle between them like a heavy cloud. He could see just how much this was tearing his brother apart, the guilt and self-reproach so evident in Dean’s expression. Sam knew that Dean had always put the needs of others before his own, often to his detriment. But this time, it was different. This time, the lines between right and wrong, between protector and partner, had blurred in a way that neither of them had anticipated.

“Dean, listen”, Sam started, his tone firm yet compassionate. “You didn’t betray her trust. If anything, you both were caught in a moment where emotions were running high. She’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult, and she has her own feelings about this, too. You can’t shoulder all the blame”.

Dean shook his head, the guilt still gnawing at him. “I get what you’re saying, Sam, but it’s not that simple. She’s family. I’ve watched her grow up, and I’ve always tried to protect her. I crossed a line, and now I don’t know how to make things right”.

Sam leaned back in his chair, considering his next words carefully. He knew that Dean was struggling with more than just guilt—there was a deep-rooted fear of losing the bond that you all shared, a fear that the damage might be irreparable.

“You didn’t do this alone, Dean”, Sam said gently. “She was there with you, and she made her choices, too. The fact that… she responded the way she did means something. It means that this is more complicated than just a mistake. It means that there are feelings involved, real ones, and you can’t just pretend they don’t exist”.

Dean rubbed his temples, the frustration evident on his face. “But what am I supposed to do, Sam? If I go down this road, I risk ruining everything. And if I don’t… I don’t know if I can live with that either”.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Dean. But I think you need to talk to her, really talk to her. You need to figure out where you both stand and what you want. This isn’t something you can just ignore and hope it goes away”.

Dean shook his head, his frustration and self-loathing bubbling to the surface as he tried to make sense of the turmoil inside him. “Sam, I already talked to her”, he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “I told her I’m too old for her, that she deserves someone better. But… damn it, Sammy, she’s 18! I feel like a fucking pedo! I don’t even know why the hell I feel something like this for her”.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt and confusion. Dean ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as if he could squeeze the thoughts out of his mind. He was a man used to fighting monsters, to facing down the worst the world had to offer, but this—this war within himself—was something he didn’t know how to fight.

Sam could see the torment in Dean’s eyes, the way his brother was battling against feelings that he didn’t fully understand. It pained Sam to see Dean like this, torn apart by emotions that were so much more complex than any hunt they’d ever been on. He knew Dean’s instinct was to protect, to shield others from harm, and now Dean was stuck in a situation where he saw himself as the danger.

“Dean”, Sam said softly, trying to ground his brother, “You’re not a monster. You’re not a predator. You’re a human being, and you’re allowed to have feelings, even if they’re complicated. The fact that you’re struggling with this so much shows that you’re not the person you’re afraid of becoming”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with anger—mostly at himself. “It’s not right, Sam. It doesn’t matter how much I try to justify it, it’s just not right. I’m supposed to be there for her like a brother, and I crossed that line”.

Sam sighed, leaning back slightly in his chair as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this. He knew how deeply Dean cared, how he always took on more than his share of guilt and responsibility. But Sam also knew that sometimes, Dean’s sense of duty could blind him to the reality of a situation.

“I get it, Dean”, Sam said, his voice steady but understanding. “It’s messy, and I know it feels wrong to you. But honestly? I don’t see such a huge problem here”.

Dean looked up at him, a mix of surprise and frustration in his eyes. “How can you say that, Sam? I’m supposed to protect her, not… not get involved with her”.

“I know”, Sam replied quickly, not wanting to dismiss Dean’s concerns. “But think about it—she’s not a kid anymore. She’s 18, and she’s been through a lot. She’s capable of making her own decisions, and she obviously cares about you too”.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam pressed on.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s simple or easy. It’s not. But the fact that you’re so torn up about this shows that you care about her in the right way. You’re not trying to take advantage of her, and she’s not some helpless kid who doesn’t know what she wants”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, his frustration evident as he tried to articulate the fears that had been gnawing at him. “What if she’s just confused, Sam?”, he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and resignation. “What if she doesn’t really know what she wants? Maybe she’s just… mixing up her feelings. I mean, how do we know if she likes me for being, well, a man, or if it’s just because I’ve been there for her when no one else was?”.

Sam could see the deep concern in Dean’s eyes, the way he was grappling with the idea that you might not truly know your own feelings. It was clear that Dean was scared—scared of hurting you, scared of taking advantage of what might be misplaced affection, scared of making a mistake that could affect you both for the rest of your lives.

“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. She’s been through a lot, yeah, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know her own mind. You’re not just some guy who showed up in her life—you’ve been there for her, through everything. And I think she’s old enough, mature enough, to know the difference between gratitude and real feelings”.

Dean looked at Sam, uncertainty still clouding his expression. “But how can I be sure, Sam? What if she’s just… what if she’s confused and later realizes she doesn’t feel that way? Then what? I’ve crossed a line that I can’t uncross”.

Sam sighed, understanding the depth of Dean’s dilemma. He knew that Dean wasn’t just afraid of making a mistake—he was terrified of losing the bond you both shared, of damaging something that had been so important to both of you for so long.

“Dean, you’re right to be cautious”, Sam acknowledged. “But you also have to trust her. Trust that she knows what she wants, and trust yourself enough to believe that you’re not manipulating her feelings. You’ve always treated her with respect, and that hasn’t changed. Just… talk to her. See where her head’s at. Don’t assume the worst”.

Dean nodded slowly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, Sam. I don’t want to hurt her more than I already did”.

“And that’s why you won’t”, Sam said firmly. “Because you care enough to be worried about it. You’re not rushing into anything, and you’re trying to do the right thing. Just take it one step at a time, and be honest with her—and yourself—about how you’re feeling”.

Sam held his brother’s gaze, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and understanding. “Dean”, he continued quietly, “don’t you think I knew how you felt about her? I’m your brother. I see things. And honestly, I just hoped you would at least wait until she turned 18. But deep down, I knew that day would come. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you watched out for her. She’s always been more mature than other girls her age”.

Dean blinked, his mind reeling. He had always prided himself on being the one who kept things together, who looked out for everyone else without revealing too much of what was going on inside his own head. But Sam had seen right through him, had known what he was feeling even before Dean had fully admitted it to himself.

He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit that betrayed just how out of his depth he felt. “You knew?”, he asked, his voice thick with disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?”.

Sam offered a small, rueful smile. “What could I have said? ‘Hey Dean, I know you’re falling for her, but maybe pump the brakes until she’s older’? It’s not like I could’ve stopped you from feeling what you felt. And honestly, I didn’t want to make things harder for you. I figured… I don��t know, maybe it would just work itself out”.

Dean swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. The fact that Sam had seen it all along made him feel both exposed and oddly relieved.

Dean felt his stomach twist at Sam’s words. The idea that his brother had seen through him, had watched as his feelings for you evolved over the last few months, made him feel exposed in a way that was deeply uncomfortable. He had always tried to keep those emotions under wraps, burying them deep where they couldn’t cause any harm. But hearing Sam describe it so plainly made it all too real.

Sam sighed, his expression serious yet compassionate as he continued. “Dean, I saw the way your feelings changed over the years. It wasn’t just something that happened overnight. She grew older, and your gazes… they grew different. I noticed the shift, especially on her 17th birthday”.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. That day had been burned into his memory—how you had walked into the room, looking more like a woman than the little girl he’d known for so long. It was a moment he’d tried to dismiss, to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything, but deep down, he knew it was a turning point. And apparently, Sam had seen it too.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first”, Sam admitted, his voice softening. “I thought maybe it was just a phase or something that would pass. But it didn’t. You started looking at her differently, and it wasn’t just the way you looked at her, Dean. It was the way you acted around her, the way you tried to distance yourself even though it was clear you didn’t want to”.

Dean flinched slightly at Sam’s words, his guilt deepening as he listened to his brother’s observations. The truth, spoken aloud, was like a punch to the gut. He had always tried to maintain some distance, to keep things from crossing a line, but it seemed that in doing so, he had only made his feelings more obvious—to both Sam and himself.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at Dean, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of them. “And it wasn’t just you, Dean”, Sam continued, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. “At first, I thought she just had a little crush on you, like most teenage girls do. I figured it was harmless, something she’d grow out of, you know?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened as Sam’s words hit home. The thought that you might have been struggling with your own feelings for just as long as he had only made the situation more complicated. It wasn’t just about him anymore; it was about you too, and how you had been dealing with emotions that were just as confusing and overwhelming as his own.

Sam shook his head slightly, as if trying to make sense of it all. “But then, she didn’t grow out of it. She grew into it. And I could see that it wasn’t just a crush anymore. It was… more. And honestly, it scared me, because I knew how much she looked up to you, how much she depended on you. I was worried that… that it would get too complicated, that someone would end up hurt”.

Dean’s knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, his mind spinning with the implications of Sam’s words. He had always been the protector, the one who kept a clear boundary between what was right and wrong. But now, that boundary was so blurred that he could barely see it, and the idea that you had been going through something similar made his chest tighten with guilt.

Sam noticed Dean’s struggle and sighed deeply. He knew how much his brother was beating himself up over this, but he also knew that Dean was stuck in a mindset that wasn’t helping anyone—least of all you.

“Dean”, Sam started, his voice softening as he tried to reason with his brother, “this isn’t the 80s anymore. People are a lot more open about relationships with age gaps. It’s not like you have some sick fetish or something. Yeah, the situation isn’t ideal, but when is anything in our lives ideal? We’ve never exactly had a ‘normal’ existence”.

Dean let out a bitter laugh, his eyes filled with frustration. “Yeah, well, it sure as hell doesn’t feel right. I’m supposed to be the one looking out for her, not… not making things more complicated”.

Sam nodded, understanding where Dean was coming from, but he didn’t relent. “I get that, I really do. But what’s the alternative here, Dean? Ignore how you feel? Pretend that none of this is real and hope it goes away? Because from what I can see, that’s not working. If anything, it’s making things worse”.

Dean rubbed his face, his eyes staring into the distance as if the answers to his internal conflict might be found somewhere in the shadows of the room.

When he finally looked back at Sam, there was a raw vulnerability in his eyes that Sam hadn’t seen in a long time. Dean struggled to find the right words, to express the deep-seated fears that had been gnawing at him ever since that night in Montana.

“She’s still a virgin, Sam”, Dean said, his voice low, almost as if he was ashamed to admit it. “If… if something happened between us, I’d be her first. In everything. And I don’t want that for her. I don’t want to be the guy who takes all those firsts from her. She deserves to have those experiences with someone her age, someone who isn’t… messed up like I am”.

Sam listened carefully, his expression softening as he took in what Dean was saying. He knew his brother well enough to understand the layers of guilt and responsibility that Dean was grappling with. But he also knew how fiercely protective Dean could be, how possessive he was when it came to the people he cared about.

“You think she’d be better off with some guy her age?”, Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t challenging Dean, but he wanted to make sure his brother really thought about what he was saying. “Some guy who doesn’t know her the way you do, who hasn’t been through what we’ve been through? Dean, you know as well as I do that most people out there can’t even begin to understand the life we live. Do you really think she’s going to find someone who gets her like you do?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them as if he could squeeze the confusion out of his mind. “I just… I don’t want to mess her up, Sam. She’s been through enough already, and if I’m the one who… who takes those firsts, I don’t know if I can live with that. What if she regrets it? What if she decides later that she made a mistake?”.

Sam sighed heavily as he got up from his chair, the weight of the conversation pressing down on both of them. He made his way over to Dean’s stash of whiskey, knowing that his brother could use something to take the edge off the turmoil he was clearly feeling. Sam grabbed the bottle, poured two generous glasses, and then returned to his seat, handing one to Dean without a word.

Dean accepted the glass with a nod of thanks, but his eyes were still distant, lost in the maze of his thoughts. He took a sip, the familiar burn of the whiskey grounding him just a little, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the guilt gnawing at his insides.

Sam took a long sip from his own glass before setting it down on the table with a soft clink. He looked at Dean, his expression serious but filled with understanding. “I’m not gonna keep saying this, Dean, but you need to hear it: she’s an adult. She’s not some kid who doesn’t know what she wants”.

Dean’s grip tightened on his glass, the tension in his shoulders still evident. “I know she’s an adult, Sam. But I’ve known her since she was a kid. That’s the problem. How can I just forget that?”.

Sam leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re not supposed to forget it. But you also can’t let it be the only thing that defines her. She’s grown up, Dean. And yeah, she’s been through a lot, but so have you. That doesn’t mean she’s broken or that she doesn’t know what she wants. If she’s choosing you, it’s because she sees something in you that she values, something that she wants”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he took another sip of whiskey, letting the words sink in. He knew Sam was right—on some level, he understood that you were capable of making your own choices. But the fear of hurting you, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, was almost paralyzing.

“Dean, I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. She’s not looking for normal—she’s looking for something real, something that she can hold on to in this crazy life we live. And maybe she’s found that in you. You can’t keep punishing yourself for having feelings, man. You’re allowed to be happy too, you know”.

Dean was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. The idea of happiness felt foreign to him, like something that had always been just out of reach. He had spent so much of his life putting others first, protecting them, sacrificing for them, that he didn’t know how to even consider the possibility of having something good for himself.

“I care about her too much to hurt her”.

“And that’s exactly why you won’t”, Sam said, his tone full of conviction. “Because you care about her, because you’re thinking about what’s best for her. That’s what makes you different, Dean. You’re not going to hurt her because you’re already trying so hard not to. But you have to stop holding yourself back out of fear. Talk to her, be honest with her, and let her be honest with you. You both deserve that”.

Dean looked up at Sam, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he processed his brother’s words. Sam’s suggestion caught him off guard, but he couldn’t deny the truth in it. They had been dancing around this issue for too long, and Sam was right—something had to give.

“You know what?”, Sam said, setting his empty glass down with a decisive thud. “I’m going out tonight”. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “I’m giving you and her the bunker to yourselves. When I get back, you two better have talked, Dean”.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t try to weasel out of this. You’re the older one, right? Act like it. Be the grown-up here and talk to her. She deserves to know what you’re thinking, and you deserve to know what she’s feeling too”.

“You make it sound so easy”, Dean muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of fear.

Sam gave him a sympathetic look but didn’t back down. “I know it’s not easy, Dean. But it’s necessary. You can’t keep avoiding this. If you don’t talk to her, it’s just going to keep eating at both of you. And honestly, I think you’ll both be better off once everything is out in the open”.

Dean nodded slowly, knowing deep down that Sam was right. He had been avoiding this for too long, letting his fear and guilt control his actions. But it was time to face the truth, no matter how difficult it might be.

“Alright”, Dean finally said, his voice resigned but determined. “I’ll talk to her”.

Sam smiled, relieved to see his brother finally accepting what needed to be done. “Good".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 28 days ago

Note

g'day! I hope you're doing well. Love your writing.

May I request a gp Donna and reader with a teen daughter who's giving them typical teenager problems like sneaking out, partying and such? Reader is scolding her but the daughter talks back and yells at her, and Donna is not having any of that and has a no one disrespect my wife moment. Reader gets turn on by it and they end up making love a little too loud to Angie's and their daughter's horror, whom apologies to reader afterwards.

Hope that wasn't too long! Thanks.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your kindness, and for your request, and no, it's not long at all, don't worry ;) I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A rebel daughter

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, family fluff...

Word count: 7,529

Summary: Young Beneviento it's just like you as a teenager, and that's a problem...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Damn it,” you cursed as you walked nervously through the house, glancing at the clock in the hall often. “This is unbelievable, Donna, what…?”

When you went to the old couch to ask for advice, or to vent to the lady in black, you found a scene that, under other circumstances, could be funny. The doll maker was lying on the couch, but she wasn't exactly conscious; her breathing was deep and her one eye was closed.

You growled, clenching your fists and walking towards her, clapping your hands.

“Donna!” you said in a brusque tone, scaring the lady, who opened her eye and sat up confused.

“Ugh… Lasciami dormire,” she growled uncomfortable at the noise, but her protests didn't matter as you approached and shook her shoulders hastily.

“Sleep? How can you sleep in this situation?” you asked nervously, holding back the Lord’s grumbling grunts for a bit.

“What? What's wrong?” she asked, waving her arms for you to give her some room. “(Y/N), tesoro, let's go to bed…”

“Have you seen what time it is?” you asked again, blinking nervously and pointing at the clock. “It's 2 in the morning, Donna, and Stella isn't here.”

“Mm, okay…” the lady whispered in a sleepy voice.

“Okay?” you asked mockingly, watching as sleep devoured the brunette again. “Look, the mother of the year… Hey, hey, Donna.”

“(Y/N)…” the woman protested again, frowning.

“I told her to come home at 10, at 10! And she still hasn't come back,” you said impatiently, letting yourself fall on the couch. “This girl is going to kill me.”

“Leave her alone, she must be with her friends,” Donna commented, yawning again.

“You're always so worried, aren't you?” you said, crossing your arms. “What if something happened to her?”

“Nothing happened to her,” the lady corrected, rubbing her eye. “She's not a child. She knows how to take care of herself.”

“Sorry, honey, but I think she's actually a child, she's 15 years old,” you said, laughing ironically and nervously. “Besides, even if you're right, she's disobeyed me again.”

“Maybe you're too hard on her, she's a teenager, and she does teenage stuff,” the lady said, shaking her head. “You know she loves to contradict you.”

“Forgive me for trying to educate my daughter,” you said frowning. “Your daughter.”

“Stella will arrive any minute, stop worrying,” she said, getting closer to kiss your shoulder comfortingly.

“It's easy for you to say it,” you whispered, calmer due to her kisses, sighing and looking at the clock out of the corner of your eye. “Donna, I can't help but think about what I was like when I was her age and… Well, the, the consequences…”

“Mm?” Donna murmured confused. “What do you mean?”

“Um, well… remember that I… well… Stella was born precisely because I was careless and…”

“You weren't 15 years old,” she said, upset by the comment.

Of course it was a hurtful comment. No matter how much time passed, Donna would never understand the fact that you were very young, too young to be a mother. You weren't ready.

“I know, but…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Damn, she does this just to annoy me. I don't even know where she went, do you know anything? At least she talks to you.”

“Me? No, I don't know where she went,” Donna said, pointing at herself and smiling after a few moments. “But… well, I can think of a way to wait,” she whispered seductively, starting to kiss your neck.

You opened your eyes wide, and although the proposal seemed tempting, you rejected the woman in black with a gentle push.

“How can you think about doing that now?” you asked offended, earning another growl from Lady Beneviento, who crossed her arms with a snort. “Our daughter is missing and…” you said, looking around and fixing your gaze on a small figure that moved slowly so as not to attract attention. “Angie!”

“I’m not here!” the living doll shrieked, fleeing from your call.

“Come here!” you shrieked back, pointing at the floor authoritatively.

“What do you want, silly?” Angie asked, approaching little by little, but keeping her distance. “This is not the time to yell.”

“Yeah, well, nice try, but it won’t help,” you said triumphantly, grabbing one of her wooden arms. “Angie, my dear Angie… You don’t know where Stella is, do you?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, let her be,” the puppet protested, breaking free from your grip mockingly and running to her owner’s side.

“Angie, do you know where she is?” Donna asked, with a calmer, softer tone. “Come on, talk.”

“W-Well, maybe…” Angie murmured thoughtfully, but before she could say anything interesting, the discreet creaking of the door distracted you, making both of you turn your heads towards the entrance.

“Finally,” you said relieved, straightening your dress and walking slowly, controlling your anger. “Hey!” you shouted when you saw your daughter walking subtly, ready to go up the stairs. “Stella Beneviento! Come here, now!” you shrieked, stamping the floor impatiently.

The young woman walked slowly with a face of having been caught, lowering her head, trying not to look you in the eyes while playing with her unmistakable black hair.

“Are you, are you still awake? Wow…” the teenager commented, still unable to look at you directly.

“We are, what a setback, isn't it, young lady?” you said in a motherly tone. “Let's see... what time is it, Stella?”

“Um... I don't know, I forgot my watch,” your daughter said in a clueless tone, turning her ankle on the wooden floor.

“Oh, that's new. You make up better and better excuses,” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, I'll tell you what time it is... it's... 2 in the morning!” you screamed furiously, getting closer to the young woman, who shrank in embarrassment.

“Really? Wow...” Stella said, seeking refuge in her mother, who silently watched the conversation without saying anything, as always.

“Look at me, young lady... you've gotten yourself into quite a mess,” you said in a stern tone, crossing your arms. “You're going to be grounded until the day of...”

“What? Why? It’s not fair,” young Beneviento protested, stamping her feet in a childish way. “I told you I forgot my watch.”

“Tell me, Stella, do I look like a fool?” you said ironically with a smug smile, blinking in the same way.

“Can I answer?” Angie intervened, pulling at your dress.

“Shut up,” you growled, causing the doll to take refuge behind its owner’s legs. “Donna, for the Gods’ sake… say something.”

The lady in black was startled but cleared her throat, walking towards her daughter.

“Mamma, io…” the girl murmured, lowering her head.

“Stella, è un po’ tardi, vero?” Donna asked in a soft tone, with a look that didn’t have the spark of anger it should.

“Lo so…” the young lady sighed. “Ma era la festa di Paola…”

“Paola?” you interrupted, putting a hand on the brunette's shoulder. “The butcher's daughter?”

“Y-Yes,” your daughter answered, looking at you briefly and then back to the eye of her dear mother, her protector, unfortunately. “I was having fun, so I didn't want to go home that soon.”

“It's not about what you want, Stella, it's about listening to what I tell you to do,” you said, with a calmer, but authoritative tone.

“If it were up to you, I wouldn't leave the house,” Stella murmured, looking away even further.

“What? That's not true,” you said in your defense, forcing the young lady to look at you. “Hey, look at me.”

“Lasciami,” the girl protested, struggling with your grip. “Mi stai infastidendo.”

“What? Am I annoying you? Is that what you said?” you asked, glancing at your wife. “Did she say that?”

The lady nodded slowly, sighing at the tense situation.

“Oh, excuse me, your royal highness…” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, Stella, I won't annoy you anymore, especially since… You're grounded.”

“No!” the teenager protested, clenching her fists. “Why?”

“Disobeying me,” you said calmly, crossing your arms with a cold look. “Now stop protesting and go up to your room.”

“That's unfair!” the young girl shrieked, with a look of hatred that pierced your chest. “You can't ground me for that… Mamma…” she whispered in a pleading tone, looking at the brunette, who sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh, no, no, Donna isn't going to defend you,” you said, looking away from your daughter to look at your wife, laughing sinisterly. “Isn't that right, Donna?”

“Um... well...” the doll maker murmured, moving you away from Stella, with a mediating tone. “Let it be, (Y/N), the girl has returned home safe and sound and...”

“I can't believe you, my love, the girl has disobeyed, she deserves a punishment,” you said incredulously, with your mouth half open.

“Forget it, (Y/N),” the lady said, gently grabbing your shoulder. “Stella was having fun with her friends, she wasn't doing anything wrong.”

“You see?” said the young girl, with a triumphant smile, resembling the Lord even more.

“I can't believe it...” you sighed, clenching your teeth. “Donna...”

“Hey, come on, it's okay... Tomorrow is another day, besides, Stella has learned the lesson, haven't you, signorina?” Donna said, hugging you affectionately despite your reluctance.

“Yes, I promise,” Stella said, rolling her eyes. “I'll be good, really.”

“Mm? How about that?” the brunette said amused, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Go to your room, Stella, it's late and you should rest.”

“Yes, yes, right away,” your daughter said, approaching Donna and giving her a quick hug. “Ti voglio bene, mamma...”

“Anch'io, tesoro,” the lady whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead.

The young lady nodded and looked at you amused, discreetly sticking her tongue out at you in a mocking manner. You raised your eyebrows, but you weren't in the mood for another argument, so you ignored her teasing.

“Great,” you sighed, crossing your arms.

“Good night!” the girl said, gesturing to the doll, who immediately approached. “Come, Angie, I have to tell you many things.”

“Oh… girls' night,” the puppet said, letting Stella pick her up as they climbed the stairs.

Silence fell over you both as the bedroom door closed and you, slowly and menacingly, looked at Donna, who seemed in a hurry to escape from your darts.

“Wonderful, Donna,” you hissed, shaking your head. “Wonderful.”

“Come on, (Y/N), forget it,” she said, comically running away from the threatening footsteps approaching her. “It's fine this way.”

“It's fine this way? Ugh… Okay, I've had enough Beneviento for today, I'm going to bed,” you said, exhausted and worn out, passing by the lady in black, who quickly followed you so you wouldn't go down without her.

“W-Wait,” she said, following you to the elevator.

Another day in the hell of your happiness. Lying in bed, ready to pretend to be angry with the lady in black, you thought about your past, about all the events that led you to that situation, 15 years ago.

You were just another young girl from the village, another unfortunate soul who decided to be born in that sinister place. Your life was boring, but your youth gave you the advantage of seeing the bright side of things, or rather, the fun side. Your parents were always on your heels, trying to control you so your pranks didn't go too far.

Going out at night, having clandestine parties, playing dangerous challenges... At 18, that was your daily routine. As a rebellious young girl, you were the best, but also you were the most daring.

You can still feel the cold breeze of that night, when the fun got out of hand and your friends challenged you to a very dangerous challenge. The premise was simple: enter the grounds of Donna Beneviento and stay there for half an hour.

It wasn't the first time you'd snuck into a Lord’s territory, but you had to admit that this veiled woman, dressed in black, and her talking doll gave you the creeps. Of course you would have done anything to prove yourself to your friends, and as scary and dangerous as it was, you decided to accept the challenge.

Darkness was encroaching on you, and your brain was busy forming shadows with everything you could see. Still, you always considered yourself brave, and you didn't look back. Time was running out, and you were going to be the queen of the party again, but before you could take a step, danger appeared in front of you.

Donna Beneviento, the doll maker, the youngest of the four Lords, caught you. No matter how many times you humiliated yourself by begging this silent lady for mercy, to kneel in the snow, you knew it was your end.

Of course, it wasn't. Instead of nightmares and torture, you had a little chat with the lady in black (through her doll, of course). You had heard hundreds of horrible things about her, but it didn't take you long to see that you were a little bit wrong.

Visits to the estate weren’t long in coming, silent teas in which you both looked at each other, exchanged curious questions and hidden glances. Youth played against you, and it didn't take long for you to change that kind of platonic admiration for an irrational and intense love. Luckily, the lady was also interested in you, and so, your romance began.

Donna was a sick, strange and lonely woman. Her beauty struggled to show itself overshadowed by a horrible scar that you never gave importance to. You loved her, she loved you. According to you, Donna would always be the most beautiful woman in the world.

But your 18 years old weren’t enough to realize the possible consequences of your actions. The Black Gods seemed to have had too much fun with the lady in black, altering her body in an almost cruel way. Once again, it didn't matter to you in the slightest.

But not caring didn't mean you ignored the dangers of making love to her without protection. Donna didn't make any effort to do so either, but you should have known that, you knew her.

You were young and reckless, and that carelessness led to an improvised scenario, one that you, even today, you didn't feel ready for. The test didn't lie, you were pregnant.

Your emotions were a whirlwind that could devastate the entire village. You were afraid, angry, sad... Negative feelings about the new life that was on the way. Donna, on her part, saw your pregnancy as something... well, maybe not indifferent, but unimportant. You couldn't expect her to understand all your doubts, your reluctance to be a mother at such a young age.

Despite the disturbing news, the love you felt for her didn’t diminish, and, in order to calm the traditionalist way of think of the lady, you decided to marry her. After all, you already knew that she was the woman of your life. You knew it before carrying her child in your womb.

After a few months of extreme care, of insecurities you faced with Donna, a new life came into your life, a beautiful baby, a girl with visibly black hair and a charming smile. Stella Beneviento was born.

Taking care of such a fragile being was complicated, but, the two of you proved that you could do it. Holding your daughter in your arms calmed your fears, and, as she grew, you realized more and more that it was the life you wanted despite your young age.

You remembered what your daughter was like in that tender time of childhood. A nice, polite girl and, well… saying that she looked like Donna was only the surface. She was a damn clone of the lady in black.

Adorable, cheerful… That girl was amazing, she was the daughter you always dreamed of, and the one Donna loved with all her heart.

It was a wonderful time that ended abruptly with the first disagreement you had with Stella. Her rebelliousness, one of the few things she had inherited from you, soon began to cause problems. Running away, disobeying, saying bad words (surely due to Angie's bad influence)… All of that became a routine that only got worse.

Donna was a good mother, she really was, but she did spoil young Beneviento too much, something you warned her about at an early age, but she didn't pay any attention to it. You reap what you sow, they used to say.

Your 33 years weren't enough, not even… well, you never really knew Donna's age, and the fact that she didn't get old didn't help at all: it didn't matter; the thing is that you were young, and inexperienced.

You couldn't help but feel that you didn't have the experience required to handle your unruly daughter, and besides, Donna wasn't behaving as she should, spoiling her daughter, something you were convinced she wouldn't stop doing.

“What are my girls doing?” you asked the next day at noon, bringing a steaming pot to the table.

Mother and daughter were sitting on the sofa, sewing, or at least trying to.

“Così?” young Stella asked, greeting you disinterestedly.

“Mm...” Donna murmured, glancing at the fabric her daughter was sewing proudly, smiling tenderly. “Buon lavoro, Stella.”

“Grazie, mamma,” the girl said, smiling triumphantly as you approached. “Hey, hey, I haven't done anything.” she said frightened, making a peace gesture with her hands, to which you frowned.

“I know that,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Do you think I'm always going to tell you off?”

“Well, you always do,” she replied, in a petulant tone. “Mamma is teaching me how to sew.”

“Mm, that's fine,” you said, nodding, playfully pinching the teenager's cheek, which made your daughter make an embarrassing gesture. “How is it going, Donna? Is she a worthy successor?”

“The best successor,” the lady said, kissing you softly on the lips.

“Hey, don't do that! How disgusting…” Stella protested, looking away while you laughed in amusement.

“That's it, you disgusting cheesy fools!” Angie added, climbing onto your daughter's lap. “Get out, out, out…”

“Hey, give me a break,” you joked, reluctantly moving away from the brunette's lips, who laughed with her eye shining. “Well, Donna, honey, let's eat.”

“Great, tesoro… it smells wonderful,” the lady said with a tender smile, getting up from the sofa.

“Hey… the table isn't set,” Stella murmured, surely knowing what was coming. “Oh…”

“Run, Stella, run before…!” Angie shrieked, pulling on the young Beneviento's dress.

“You're not going anywhere, young lady,” you said amused, grabbing the shoulder of your daughter, who gulped comically. “Set the table, will you?”

“You always do the same, what's the problem with setting it yourself?” she protested with a childish tantrum, crossing her arms.

“I've cooked. When you cook, I'll set the table. Come on, don't complain,” you said with an authoritarian tone, pointing to the cupboard where the plates were kept.

“You're worse than a sergeant,” the teenager growled. “I don't want to set the table.”

“Stella, please, can't you be a good girl for once?” you asked, rubbing your eyes, feeling frustrated by your daughter's ever-rebellious attitude, one that seemed like it would never change.

“I don't want to,” the young lady said, looking away.

“Hey, come on…” Donna interrupted, grabbing your waist to make her way through you two. “Listen to your mother, Stella.”

“Ma, mamma… it's always me,” your daughter said, looking at you resentfully.

“Well, it's not like she asked you to climb a mountain, right?” the lady joked, tilting her head, amused. “Come on, tesoro, we'll set it together, okay?”

“O-Okay, that sounds better,” Stella said with a triumphant smile, probably holding back the urge to make fun of you again.

“Oh, you two are hopeless…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Hurry up, or it's going to get cold.”

The lady and her clone, oh, sorry, her daughter, set the table amidst playful comments. At least you expected it to be a quiet meal, that's what you wanted to hope for…

“What's this?” the girl asked, dipping her spoon into the plate and playing unpleasantly with the liquid inside.

“A delicious, warm vegetable soup,” you said, serving yourself and Donna a glass of wine.

“Delicious? It has to be a joke,” the young lady said, crossing her arms with a look of disgust. “Mom, I don't like it.”

“Oh, your majesty doesn't like it…” you said ironically, shaking your head while Donna, oblivious to the conversation, began to eat on her own. “Well, I'm sorry, but it is what it is.”

“I don't like vegetable soup, I want mamma to make me pasta carbonara,” said the girl, grumbling and pushing her plate forward.

“Your mother is eating. Leave her alone, she's not your servant. Eat,” you said in a patient tone, enjoying the warmth of the soup

“But I don't like this soup,” she repeated again, with a defiant look. “Mamma…”

“Eat, tesoro, your mother made it with all her love,” Donna said, without looking up.

“No, she made it to annoy me, she knows I hate vegetables,” the brat said, looking at you furiously.

“Stop talking nonsense and eat,” you said with a loud hiss, but without losing your patience, yet.

“No,” she said defiantly. “I want mamma’s pasta.”

“Do you? Fine, then don’t eat,” you sighed, taking a sip of wine as Donna watched, impassive. “That’s your decision.”

“Oh, you want to starve me to death?” Stella said, pointing at herself to be more dramatic.

“Stella Beneviento,” you said firmly. “Eat your damn soup.”

“Oh, Mom, you swore,” your daughter mocked, making you growl in rage.

“That’s enough,” you said, slamming the table, causing Donna to slowly get up, without saying anything, and disappear down the hall. “Donna?”

The tense glances increased the tension of the moment. Your daughter looked at you and you did the same, in complete silence, an exchange of glances that could melt the largest iceberg in the world.

“Prego,” Donna whispered, appearing after a while and leaving a plate of steaming pasta next to her daughter.

“I can't believe it...” you sighed when you saw Stella's excited look at her new meal. “Donna...”

“I don't want you to argue, (Y/N). It's already solved,” the lady commented, sitting down again.

“Grazie, mamma...” the teenager said, with admiration, eating while holding back the urge to smile triumphantly again. “You are the best.”

“Donna...” you growled looking at the brunette, who shrugged and continued eating as if nothing had happened.

Luckily, that calmed the meal, turning into something like a relaxed lunch.

“Oh, keep my dessert, I have to go,” the young girl said, finishing her plate and getting up from the chair.

“Go? Where to?” Donna asked, with a curious look.

“I'm meeting my friends, it's Roberto's birthday,” the girl answered, looking at you briefly.

“I think you're grounded, young lady,” you said with an ironic tone.

“I think I’m not. Mamma Donna said I wasn’t,” the young lady answered, putting on her coat.

“Mamma Donna says a lot of nonsense,” you corrected, looking at an embarrassed lady in black, who pretended to drink water. “This afternoon you're going to stay home to work on your studies.”

“It's Saturday,” Stella said, crossing her arms. “Stop pestering me.”

“And you stop being that… Ugh…” you said, getting up abruptly. “Oh, no, you're not going out.”

“But…”

“I said no, clear the table,” you said sternly, pointing at it.

“I don't feel like it,” your daughter rebuked, in a mocking tone.

“Well then… then… go to your room and stay there,” you said nervously, losing patience little by little.

“Mm, va bene,” she said, with a strange smile, obeying you immediately, something that was not a good sign, at all.

“Va bene? Stella… come, come back here,” you said angrily, pointing at the floor. “Stella!”

You couldn't do anything.

As you could already see, the teenager wouldn't take no for an answer, and it wasn't long before you heard some familiar noises on the roof. Your daughter had escaped again, climbing out the window.

You were so tired that you could only collapse into a chair.

“Gods... she's out again, Donna... I don't know what to do anymore,” you murmured with your hands covering your face, on the verge of tears.

The lady in black slowly stood up, bending down to take one of your hands and gently caress it.

“Oh, damn it...” you groaned, getting up and walking out the door. “Stella, I hope you're here before dinner!”

“Yes, mom!” You heard in the distance.

“Ugh...” you sighed, letting the lady in black hug you. “She's going to finish me off.”

“Shh, calm down, tesoro…” Donna whispered in your ear, gently brushing your hair away from your face. “Calm down…”

“Donna, if only you had moved away in time…” you said quietly, remembering past mistakes. “I-It doesn't matter…”

“Mm, let me pick up the dishes, and you, try to relax, I'll be with you in no time,” she said, kissing you softly before disappearing with an understanding smile.

You heeded her words, sitting down on the couch with a tired sigh. There, you began to remember better times, times when your daughter wasn't an unbearable brat but a happy baby, a polite and respectful girl.

Searching through a box of old memories, you found one of the old photographs from when Stella was little more than a crying baby. Your face was a smile, and Donna looked in admiration at the baby you held.

It was all so rushed and Stella grew up so fast…

“My girl,” you whispered, running your hand over one of the photos in which young Beneviento was the protagonist, one in which the girl lovingly hugged Angie. “Have I done something wrong?” you asked yourself, thinking, with the passage of time and failures, that the girl's indomitable attitude was your fault.

“I'm here,” Donna said, finally appearing and sitting next to you.

You hid one of your tears and kissed her slowly, snuggling up to her.

“Are you looking at the photos? We haven't changed much, have we?” the lady said, amused, also searching through the photographs, comically placing one of them next to her face.

“How funny,” you said in a mocking tone. “You haven't changed at all,” you whispered, sinking into her body, a gesture that the lady in black captured, surrounding you with her arms.

“Mm,” she murmured, snuggling you into her chest while she caressed your hair, kissing it in a loving, charming way. “Stella is certainly the one who has changed the most.”

“Yes…” you sighed deeply, closing your eyes to feel her caresses even more. “She is too much like me.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” she asked, with a soft and melodic voice, one that you adored.

“Yes, it is… Physically it's just like you, but with my stupid teenage mentality,” you said, looking at one of the last black and white photographs (due to the time delay that place suffered). “It's a dangerous combination.”

“Do you think so?” the doll maker asked amused, kissing you again and bringing you closer to her warm body. “It could be.”

“Donna, I… I'm, I'm going through a bad time,” you confessed, putting away the photographs and drawings of little Stella. “I don't know what to do.”

“A bad time? What's wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, with a more worried tone.

“Stella is making me crazy… I try, I really try to make her a good girl but… she never listens to me and… I'm starting to get desperate, Donna, I'm starting to think that I'm not a good mother, that I haven't known how to educate our daughter.”

“Don't say that,” Donna whispered, caressing your face, lifting your chin so that you would look at her. “You're a good mother, (Y/N), the best one.”

“It doesn't seem like it…” you sighed. “Stella is getting older every day and I feel, I feel I'm not capable of… of even making her see me as her mother, do you understand? I think she hates me.”

“That's not true, Stella loves you very much, you're her mommy, remember? Mommy, mommy, the monsters in the closet scare me,” she said, imitating the voice of a little girl, something that, at least, made you smile.

“Those times are long gone,” you said with nostalgia, shaking your head and letting a tear slide down your cheek. “I wish I could go back and... it doesn't matter, Donna, just, just hold me, okay?”

“With pleasure, amore mio...” the doll lady whispered, letting you drown your tears in her clothes, a cry of desperation and rage, of frustration, that the lady in black knew how to understand and relieve.

The afternoon passed like that, with a relaxing silence, with her kisses, whispers and caresses relaxing your worries, at least until the shrill sound of the phone interrupted that peaceful tranquility.

“I'll go, darling,” you said, moving away from her embrace to go to the vibrating phone. “(Y/N) Beneviento on the phone, who is it?”

“Oh, I was hoping to talk to Donna, but I guess you'll do,” the smug, mocking voice on the other end told you, without words, who it was.

“Karl…” you whispered, rolling your eyes as you recognized the Lord. “What do you want?”

“What manners,” the man mocked, laughing amused. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes, my life, do you want to talk to Donna?” you asked, looking at the lady, who frowned, absentmindedly playing with Angie, surely excited by the call, as always.

“It's not necessary… I'm just calling you to say that my dear little niece had a lot of fun this afternoon,” he said passively, immediately putting you on alert.

“What?” you asked startled. “Stella?”

“Yeah, yeah... Apparently she and her friends thought it was funny to sneak into my factory and waste my resources,” he commented, with the same arrogance.

“Gods... what happened?” you asked nervously, playing with the phone cord while Donna also approached.

“Your kid broke into my factory with two of her friends, activated two of my soldats and created a mess that I had to clean up myself...”

“Shit,” you said furiously. “Is she okay?”

“Perfectly fine, she's here, with me… hey, brat, do you want to talk to your mother? No? I assumed so,” Karl said, laughing mockingly. “I guess you want her back, right?”

“Y-Yes, bring her here, please,” you asked, breathing heavily.

“Of course...”

After that you hung up abruptly, growling furiously.

“What's wrong, (Y/N)? What happened?” Donna asked, calming your frightened fury.

“Your daughter, Donna, that's what happened,” you hissed, moving away from the lady in an unpleasant manner. “She's sneaked into your brother's factory and… Gods…”

The wait seemed like an eternity to you, but finally the Lord arrived next to your daughter, who kept her head down.

“This is yours, right?” the metal man said, gently pushing his niece.

“Karl, I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” you said apologetically while Donna followed her daughter with her gaze. “If there's something we can do…”

“Oh, no, no, it's not important. It's just kids' stuff, isn't it?” he said, turning gracefully and waving his hand. “Arrivederci…”

“Um…” the teenager muttered, scratching the back of her neck, possibly nervous because of your furious look as you closed the door and turned to look at her, arms crossed. “I'd better go to my room.”

“Hey, hey, hey… Not so fast, miss,” you said, preventing her escape with a strong grip on her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hey, I didn't do anything. My friends challenged me and…” the young lady said, pathetically apologizing.

Donna as always, just watched, perhaps with a colder than usual expression.

“Of course, your friends… How could you possibly sneak into your uncle's factory!? Have you lost your mind? You could have hurt yourself,” you snapped, shaking your head, still holding on to your daughter.

“Nothing happened to me, see? I'm fine,” she said cockily. “I was just having fun. Besides, Uncle Karl doesn't care.”

“Maybe he doesn’t because he's a crazy maniac, but I do, Stella, I'm sick of you doing whatever you want all the time,” you growled, waving your arm and pointing your finger at her, who moved furiously, pushing you in an unpleasant way.

“You’re not in charge!” she shrieked childishly, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“I'm your mother, Stella! You have to obey me!” you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Are you my mother?” she asked, in a defiant tone, getting a little closer. “Did you want to be?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, shaking your head and blinking erratically.

“I know! I know you didn't love me! That I was just a mistake!” your daughter shrieked, leaving you frozen.

“You don't know what you're saying,” you hissed, terribly hurt by the comment. “You have no idea…”

“Of course I have, you don't have to be a genius to see that you're very young,” Stella said, taking advantage of your weakness. “You're only overprotective because you didn't know how to be with yourself, and that's why I was born!”

“Stop talking like that, brat, you're pissing me off…” you threatened more intensely. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense! You're demanding something from me that you weren't capable of doing!” she protested again, irremediably winning the conversation.

“I demand you to obey me, Stella!” you screamed, increasing the tension even more. “Donna!” you said, looking at the lady in black, who listened to the screams expressionless while you began to sob. “For the Gods’ sake, do something!”

“You ask her for help because you know I'm right,” Stella said with a mocking smile, while you shook your head. “Don't blame me for your complexes.”

“Go to your room!” you yelled angrily, pointing to the stairs.

“No! You're unbearable, mom!” the young lady yelled back, making you back away. “I can't stand you... I don't love you... I wish you weren't my mother,” she hissed through clenched teeth, making you sigh and sob louder.

“Honey...” you said with a broken voice, noticing a hand on your shoulder that moved you a bit. “No…”

Donna approached, walking with a somewhat hurried steps and a nervous breathing.

Without saying a single word, with a look full of anger, she stood in front of your daughter, giving her a resounding slap that left the mansion completely silent.

“Mamma…” Stella sighed, with the hand on her cheek and her eyes wide open.

You shook your head, surprised by what you had just seen, unable to believe it.

“Donna…” you gasped, without taking your gaze off the silently enraged lady, who was staring your daughter's eyes and getting a little closer, threatening.

“Don't ever talk your mother like that again, have you heard me?” she whispered with a dark, dangerous, authoritative voice, a voice like yours had never been. “Mi hai sentito!?”

“S-Sì…” Stella murmured, stunned, looking in terror at her mother, who remained surprisingly firm.

“Fine,” Donna said, hands on hips. “Now go to your room, and don't come out until you apologize to your mother.”

“But…”

“Go to your room! Vai!” the lady in black shrieked, pressing her lips tightly together and pointing at the stairs. “Vai!”

“Sì, mamma,” the teenager whispered, turning slowly and picking Angie, her silent defender, up from the floor. “Co-Come on Angie…”

“You'll pay for this, silly Donna!” the doll shouted, making mocking gestures in the arms of the young lady, who climbed the stairs sobbing.

“Shut your mouth or I'll deactivate you!” Donna shrieked, causing the doll to take refuge even in the arms of her young owner. “Cazzo…”

“Donna,” you said, leaving some time for the lady to calm down and approaching from behind, turning her body slowly. “Gods, Donna…”

“What?” she asked with her gaze still enraged. “I haven't done anything to her, it was more of a caress than a slap,” she said defending herself against what she thought was a protest from you.

“I know, my love… Wow, so you do have character,” you said smiling, noticing a lustful feeling forming inside you, an unexpected one.

“I won't allow anyone to insult you, (Y/N), not even that brat,” the lady said, without hugging you back, looking away. “You're right, she needs manners.”

“Mm, yes… and you're going to teach them to her, aren't you, my love?” you purred in her ear, making her hands go straight to your waist and her brow furrow.

“If it's necessary, I will do it,” Donna said, sure of herself. “She won't insult you again, you have my word.”

“Oh, I like your word,” you said with a velvety voice, approaching her lips slowly, devouring them wetly, startling the lady in black, who moved away confused.

“Um, what, what are you doing?” she asked, holding your wrists, which were already starting to play with her dress. “(Y/N)?”

“It's just that... seeing you so... authoritative, so... firm...” you said, playing with your finger on her chest, one that her eye followed with curiosity. “Donna, you've turned me on.”

“Me hitting our daughter has turned you on?” the lady asked, surprised and horrified.

“No, silly...” you said, shaking your head and pulling her hand towards the living room. “What has turned me on is… seeing you defend me like that… I’ve wanted to see you that way for a long time.”

“(Y/N), please, I don’t…” she said, nervous, while you cornered her against the desk, changing positions with a soft movement of your hands and sitting on the old wooden table.

“Shh, shut up, my love…” you whispered in her ear, bringing her closer with a soft tug on her dress. “Now, tell me how naughty I am…”

“(Y/N), it’s not the time for… (Y/N),” Donna said, opening her eye wide when your hand passed over the black fabric, noticing the incipient bulge that revealed her erection at your words. “H-Hey… don’t…”

“Oh, wow, I think so, my love,” you said amused, tightening your grip on her covered shaft, causing the lady in black to gasp irresistibly. “Look at you… You’re so hard…”

“I-It's your fault,” she said, shaking her head, but allowing herself to enjoy your intense grip. “Cazzo…”

“Don't swear, Donna,” you said amused, playing with your underwear until you pushed it aside, with your lips very close to hers. “I prefer you to use that mouth of yours to kiss me.”

“Oddio…” she sighed, finally letting herself be carried away by your deep kisses, by the soft swaying of your hips on the desk. “(Y/N)…”

“My love… I love you…” you sighed, noticing how her impatient hands fought with the skirt of her dress, releasing her throbbing erection while playing with your body to position it correctly.

That improvised declaration of love made the lady stop before brushing against your impatient wetness, briefly caressing your face.

“Ti amo, (Y/N)… tu sei la mia vita,” she whispered, taking a moment to kiss you romantically, ignoring her throbbing desire, which was already rubbing against yours.

“Mm, baby…” you purred, laughing embarrassedly at those hot and romantic whispers. “Come, I don't know how much time we have.”

Quickly, ignoring the foreplay, you gently grabbed her erection, stimulating it for a while before inserting it into you with ease, something that always made you moan outrageously.

“Shh, tesoro…” Donna whispered to you, covering your mouth, fighting against her own pleasure. “Not that loud.”

“Mm, I'm sorry… you're so big,” you moaned, writhing in pleasure at how your walls stretched to make way for her hurried thrusts. “Donna, Gods…”

The lady growled as she felt the pressure of your body on hers, as she felt that lascivious and wet embrace, as she slid with extreme ease. Of course, you weren't lying when you told her that the situation had turned you on.

That Donna defended you with rage, with fury, was something you always loved, something that made you remember every day why you loved her, why you started such a wonderful family with her.

“Fuck, yes! Oh, Donna, dominate me! Harder, my love!” you moaned loud, succumbing to the pleasure and forgetting about discretion as her thrusts accelerated and her moans lost their modesty as well.

“That's what you want, isn't it?” the lady said amused, coming out of you to grab you by the waist, turning you around abruptly, causing an annoying noise as it made the things on the desk shake. “You're a very bad doll…”

“Yes, yes, I'm the worst!” you squealed, moving eager to feel her again, rubbing your hips against her erection, one that was quick to take you from behind, moving you along with the table. “Yes, Donna, yes, fuck me!”

“Mm, così stretta…” the lady murmured, gripping your hips tightly, guiding them to her desired rhythm, only letting them go to give you a few soft, spicy spanks, completely lifting your dress.

“More, Donna!” you screamed, feeling your body tightening more and more, motivated by the moans and grunts of pleasure from the brunette. “Donna, I'm going to… I'm going to cum!”

“Cazzo! (Y/N)!” the lady screamed, panting as your body went crazy, squeezing her with your walls, causing her own release inside of you, wetting you with her warm seed. “(Y/N)…”

“Mm, Donna, that was…” you said laughing, moving your hips with her still inside you and feeling the wetness running down your legs. “…amazing”.

“Y-Yes…” she said, slowly withdrawing and covering herself with her dress, pulling yours down as well. “I-I hope Stella didn't hear us,” she said, catching her breath as you turned around, capturing her lips briefly.

“Bah, I'm sure she didn’t,” you said, teasingly pulling on her lower lip. “Well… How about we take a bath? We've earned it.”

“Certo,” Donna said, with a tired smile. “I'll make dinner later.”

“It's a perfect plan, my love,” you whispered, walking hand in hand with her towards the elevator.

Of course it was. A relaxing bath with your wife managed to dispel that bitter moment, the argument with your daughter that Donna miraculously solved. You didn't want to think about it too much, but you couldn't help but think about whether that severe, but necessary, attitude of the lady of the dolls had served any purpose.

“Stella! Dinner is ready!” you shouted, looking at the stairs, a bit calmer. “I really want to try this lasagna…”

“Mm, that's what you always say,” Donna said, winking at you with complicity, due to that passionate outburst earlier. “Where's the girl?”

“I've already called her, she's probably still upset,” you commented, pouring yourself a glass of wine and looking back at the hall. “Stella! Come down, we have lasagna!”

Nothing, silence was your only response.

“Do you think…?” the lady in black asked, frowning.

“Gods, I should have imagined…” you sighed, standing up hastily. “She's run away again.”

Just when you were about to go through the whole territory to look for your rebellious daughter, the teenager appeared before you. Her head was looking at the floor and Angie accompanied her in silence.

“Well, you've finally decided to come down, come…” you sighed, gently pushing the young lady by her back. “Your mother made lasagna for you.”

“Grazie, mamma,” the young Beneviento murmured, without looking into her mother's eye, surely resentful of that ridiculous slap.

“Mm, niente,” Donna said, with a slightly petulant tone. “Siedeti.”

The young girl nodded and obeyed silently.

Yes, silence would be a good summary for that dinner.

“Um… Mom,” Stella said, with her gaze lowered, addressing you cautiously.

“What do you want, darling?” you asked with a tender smile, looking at Donna, who did the same.

“I'm sorry,” the young woman whispered. “I'm sorry about saying… those things to you.”

“Mm,” you murmured, listening attentively. “Good.”

“I really am… well I… I was angry because Uncle Karl caught me and… I mean I shouldn't have done it and… I shouldn't have… talked to you like that… Will you forgive me, Mom?” Stella said, now looking at you pleadingly.

“Oh, honey, of course I will,” you said with a smile, caressing your daughter's cheek. She stood up and, along with a sob, hugged you tightly.

“I'm sorry, Mom… what I said isn't true, I love you very much, I love you both very much and… I promise, I promise to behave better from now on, I'll be a good girl…” she said sobbing, letting your hug comfort her.

“Really?” you said suspiciously, glancing sideways at Donna, who smiled tenderly. “Honey…”

“Yes, really, but… Angie and I have something else to ask you,” your daughter said, moving away and turning exaggeratedly red. “A-Angie…”

“Listen carefully!” the doll said, causing you and the lady to look at each other with an arched eyebrow. “You disgusting fools!”

“Angie… What is it? Stella?” the brunette asked, curiously.

“Please don't… don't… do… that… again… in the living room… or… or at least don't shout that loud… You're going to cause me trauma…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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urmymiller · 11 days ago

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Baby’s Been Waitin’

summary: joel’s been working hard all day and you want to make him feel better with a massage. turns out, you want to feel better too.

warning/tags: MDNI. 2003!joel x reader. no use of y/n. reader has no physical description but is said to have a job. age gap (i imagine reader to be 10/11 years younger than joel). established relationship. soft dom!joel (?). no smut (sorry for being a tease). implied smut (?). reader being a bit of a brat (that's code for horny but let's be real, who wouldn't be for joel?). wc: 1k

a/n: i wrote this only cause i miss pre outbreak!joel and have been having dreams about him. lmk if there are any errors. enjoy! 🩵

On your end, it’s a boring Saturday night because you didn’t work today. Although on your boyfriend's end, it's the opposite because he sadly did. He had called you earlier in the day, saying something along the lines of, “Sorry baby, work’s gonna go on a little longer,” and mentioned something about them not having the materials they needed.

You felt that you barely saw Joel that morning. He woke before the sun rose and took a shower. He was quiet, since he knew you didn't work today so he wanted you to sleep in as long as you could. After he got dressed and grabbed his stuff, he went to your side of the bed and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey I'm leaving Baby, I'll see you later okay? I love you."

You lifted your hand up to his that was cradling your face, and hummed. "Okay, have a good day, I love you." You said sleepily.

"I will. Bye babygirl." He smiled as he stood up to close the door to the bedroom and leave for work.

****

Later that day, as you’re lying on the couch watching a movie, patiently waiting for Joel to come home, is when you hear the front door open and see that it’s him. He walks over and collapses onto the couch, next to you, and begins to take his shoes off. “There you are. Hey,” you say with a smile. You can tell he looks tired, but you give him a kiss on the cheek anyway.

He rests his head on your shoulder, looking up at you and smiles softly while he puts his hand on your thigh and rubs it, as if to say, “Sorry for being late and not giving you a kiss, I’m just exhausted.” You understand. You sit upright and ask him how his day went. He chuckles, putting both hands in his face and rubbing it, “You don’t wanna know how my day went, I promise you,” he says. But again, you ask him, in a seductive voice (hoping he won't notice), to tell you, saying, “C’mon, baby… I wanna know how your day went so I can make you feel better.” He looks you up and down, as if he’s suspicious of you, but ignores it and says, “Okay, only because you asked.” You smile.

As he begins to speak, he doesn’t even realize you’ve started massaging his shoulders, and he leans back into you. Still going on about his day, he says, “Yeah, right there. Oh my god, baby…”

Even though he can’t see you, you smile and ask, “That feels good, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Holy shit. Where did you learn to do that?”

You shrug and say sarcastically, “Can’t tell you. It’s top secret. You’ll never find out.”

He rolls his eyes and laughs, “Yeah, whatever. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ because let me tell you… it feels amazing. Don't ever stop. ”

You laugh. And after a pause, you think to yourself and smile.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks.

“No reason…” you say with a playful smirk.

“Baby, what are you up to?” He turns his head slightly.

“Nothing!” You laugh as he’s getting suspicious of you.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s somethin’, so tell me.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.” You say as you try your best to hide your smirk. He holds your gaze and squints, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying to him or not.

After a pause, you can’t help but spit it out, “It’s just… you wanna be bossy and tell me what to do so…” You roll your eyes sarcastically.

He pauses, then quickly turns around and grabs your wrist as you’re about to put your hands over his shoulders onto his chest. “Did you just... call me ‘bossy’?”

“Yeah, what about it? It’s the truth.” You smirk.

“I should be the one calling you bossy, not the other way around. Besides, I know what you’re doing,” he says, trying not to smile.

You shrug and say sarcastically, “You do? Because from where I’m sitting, I’m just massaging my boyfriend because he works so hard, and since I was here all day, I’d like to make him feel better when he comes home. But he didn’t say the magic word, so I stopped.” You pout.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs once more, “You’re doing it on purpose at this point.”

Still acting like you know nothing, you say, “Doing what? And on purpose? Baby, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to massage you, but like I said… you’re being bossy. What’s a girl to do?”

He slightly smirks and tilts his head to one side. “Call me bossy one more time and watch what happens.”

You smirk as well and pause. “Bo—”

He flips you over face-down so fast that you gasp and laugh. He gets on top of your back to straddle you and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Listen closely, okay?” You smile as you nod.

“We’re gonna go upstairs to our bedroom and I’m gonna give you what you want because I know that you want it, even though you could've just asked. But also because I’m so sorry for leaving you all alone and bored. Then, you’re gonna give me what I want, okay, brat?” He emphasizes the word "brat," knowing you planned this from the very beginning. Although he knows what you’ve been doing, he can’t deny that he loves giving you some of the best nights of your life—the kind that leave you sore the next day.

“Okay,” you say, smirking as you turn your head to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, what?” he says.

“Okay, Baby.”

“That’s my girl. C’mon.” He lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

"Oh my-- Joel!" You gasp, and the both of you laugh as he carries you up the stairs.

"This is what you wanted, right?" He says with a huge grin on his face.

“You’re gonna say the magic word for me to give you what you want, right?”

He rolls his eyes and lies you down on the bed. “We’ll see how you feel about me saying that ‘magic word’ after this.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us

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flippinpancakes64 · 5 months ago

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How the Cullens would react to you being a newborn

*Note* This is my first ever post please be nice :(

Edward:

Super supportive

Is so so patient

Will teach you everything he knows about self control and how to best curb your hunger

Will go hunting with you every day if that's what you want

He doesn't care if you're dangerous he wants a hug so he's getting a hug

Protective x100

If Jasper still has trouble trusting you after you've mostly gotten yourself under control he will be right there telling him to back off

10/10 would let him turn me into a newborn

Alice:

Again, supportive x100

She deals with Jasper on the daily, she knows how to help with cravings and sporadic behavior

Can easily stop you from things you shouldn't do because she can see them in the future

Would go hunting with you

Would lose her patience after a while if you keep tearing the clothes she buys you tho

(Not actually she'd just be a little frustrated :) )

Would also come to your defense if Jasper or anyone else doubts that you have yourself under control

"I can literally see the future it's fine-"

Jasper:

The worst of them all probably-

He's very tough to get to in the first place

He has a dark past, most of his trauma is from Newborns

He doesn't trust you for a really long time

Super skeptical, will follow your every move ready to hold you down

He's just trying to protect his family tho

You're gonna have to be on your best behavior if you ever want him to trust you again

He'll come around eventually though with the help of his family to show him that you're adjusting well

After he's certain you're no longer a threat he will feel so bad

Cuddles x100

He's just a big softie who loves his family behind those scary eyes

Rosalie:

Ok I lied she might be the worst actually-

If you did this to yourself or had another one of the Cullens turn you chances are she's never gonna talk to you again (sorry)

I mean we all know that she hated Bella's guts until she got pregnant with Renesmee

But if you got turned by accident or by a rogue vampire attack?

Supportive x200

Mama Bear mode activated fr

She remembers what it was like all too well

The pain, the confusion, the anger, the hatred

You couldn't do a single thing wrong in her eyes

You accidentally attacked a hiker? It happens to the best of us

You broke one of the super expensive cars by closing the door too hard? It's ok Carlisle can buy a new one

Can and will defend you if anyone says you're not ready yet

Emmett:

Kinda chill tbh

Obviously since he's the strongest he's with you most of the time to hold you back if need-be

But he's more interested in making bets against anyone who will bet with him

"I smell an elk up ahead, I bet I'll get to it before they can"

"I bet I'll win in an arm wrestling contest"

"I bet they'll scream at Edward for playing that piano too loud"

Mostly is just a good supporter

He's really observant though and is a good judge on if you're ready to be alone yet or not

Esme:

Supportive x100

She hates seeing anyone in pain and you are no exception

Will give you all the tips and tricks she can think of

How to control your cravings, the best animals to hunt, the best places to go to just scream and let it all out

She's got you covered

Wouldn't be that strong of an advocate towards you being ready tho-

She acknowledges that she is not very well versed in this field and will accept Carlisle's or Jasper's judgements very seriously

She will do her best to help you though

Carlisle:

The man for the job fr

He has raised four different newborns that he created mostly all by himself

He knows exactly what to do

How to best help you, how to make sure you feel the least pain possible, how to speed up your process

Literally anything

He's very open to answer any questions you have

If you were dying and he did this to save you he'd be perfectly okay with you wanting nothing to do with him

He understands

It will take a while to fully convince him that you are in control of your urges, but one he's convinced he is on your side 100%

Vampire! Bella:

Definitely the most sympathetic

She was the most recent change, she remembers it the most

Even though she did have her self-control on her side, she still remembers how difficult it was

Will stand by your side no matter what

She's not scared of you or what you could do

To her you're still you

Will do her best to help you with anything you need

Does her best to help give you distractions if there are people nearby

Once she believes you're ready, she will not take no for an answer

She's stubborn

Very good support tho 10/10

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winchesterwild78 · 4 months ago

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Teacher

Characters: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Mention of divorce, Fluff, SMUT!, Protected sexual contact, Be smart, wrap it up people

A/N: Just a short story I came up with from another picture I was tagged in. I’ve never played guitar, so I’m just going with it. Please overlook any errors with the guitar lessons. 😂 Absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own, and I do not give permission for it to be taken without my permission. Feel free to like and reblog.

Minors DNI 18+

You’d been a teacher for over 10 years and loved working with children. It had been something you’d wanted to do since you were little. Before Summer Break you would always ask your teachers for extra worksheets so you could play teacher over the break. You’d make your brother and sister play with you. You of course were the teacher.

After breaking up with your husband you decided a move and change of scenery was in the cards. Your parents had moved to Texas a few years ago, so you decided to head home. They were letting you live with them until you got on your feet.

You adored your parents, but as a woman who was almost 40 you didn’t want to live there long. So, you got a local teaching job and offered private guitar lessons on the side. Stacy, a colleague of yours suggested you advertise in the local paper, and on Facebook marketplace. So you did.

Her husband offered you a space at his building so you had somewhere neutral to meet people at. You were so grateful, because he didn’t charge you rent. Any money you made from the lessons went right in your pocket.

You checked your email after dinner and saw an email from someone asking for lessons. You emailed the person back, who said his name was Jay, and gave him the details. The two of you agreed to meet Thursday at 6pm. You offered the first lesson for free, that way the both of you could get a feel for each other. You could make sure they weren’t crazy, and find out how much teaching they needed, and they could see if you could offer them what they needed in lessons.

The week went quickly and it was time to head to your first lesson. You were excited and hoped “Jay” was not psycho and you could actually have a client. You arrived at the space and started setting up the room. Stacy’s husband had put a couch, chairs and tables in the room to help make it comfortable. You were grateful to have such a nice space to hold lessons in.

About 10 minutes to 6, you heard a knock on the door. “Come in” you called from the other side of the room. “Hello, I’m looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I’m Jay.” You turned around to greet the man and stopped dead in your tracks. “Um, you can call me Y/N.” Standing before you was none other than Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan for years and really couldn’t believe he was standing in your studio.

He stepped forward and extended his hand, “Hello, Y/N. I’m Jensen, but you can call me Jay.” You shook his hand, “Honestly, I know who you are. I’ve been a fan for years. I understand if you’d rather not go forward with the lessons.” “No, darlin’ I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with who I was. I hope you understand.” You nodded, “So, Mr. Ackles, if you’re ready to get started we can. I have my clients start playing so I can see what you know and what you need to practice. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Jensen took out his guitar, “Please, call me Jensen, and I’m ready.” Jensen started playing and you watched intently. The way he gripped the fretboard had you biting your lip. His pressure was perfect and his fingers held the pick like he was holding something delicate.

He flicked his green eyes up at you as he played, and you swallowed hard. Damn how am I going to teach him how to play guitar when all I can think about is his fingers playing my body like he’s playing the strings on that guitar. God is there nothing he can’t do?!

Jensen stopped playing and you looked at him confused. “Jensen, are you sure you need lessons? You sounded great, and your grip is perfect.” “Yeah, I like to practice and I figured I’d hire someone to give me pointers. I’ve been writing songs with a buddy of mine, and I want to contribute more to the band.”

“I understand that. I’ll be happy to help with whatever you need.” For some reason after you said that blush filled your cheeks. Jensen smirked at you, “I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’.” The rest of the session was filled with small talk, and he showed you the song he was working on. You gave him some pointers on it, and when he made the changes he thought it sounded better.

The lesson was supposed to last an hour and when you finally looked at the clock you realized it was almost 9pm. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Jensen. I didn’t realize what time it was. I monopolized your whole evening.” Jensen took your hand and smiled. Electricity shot through your body and your breath hitched. “It’s okay. I really enjoyed my time with you tonight. When do you think we could continue the lessons?”

“Um, I’m available whenever. Honestly I don’t have much of a social life.” “Well, how about we meet back here tomorrow night at 6, I’ll bring dinner, and we can work some more.” “That sounds great, Jensen. I can’t wait.” Jensen stood, and put his guitar away, “Great, it’s a date.”

You smiled and nodded, “Yeah, it’s a date then. See you later Jensen.” Jensen stepped towards you, your heart pounding in your chest, he was inches from your face. “See you later, Y/N.” Then he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. The two of you exchanged phone numbers so you could text whenever you needed to.

He spun on his heels and left you standing in the middle of the room. You touched your cheek and let out the breath you were holding. You closed up for the night and walked to your car. As you got in your car your phone went off.

Unknown: Hey, it’s Jensen. I hope you don’t mind that I'm texting you. I really enjoyed my time tonight. Looking forward to tomorrow.

You: Hey, Jensen. Yeah, it’s fine you texted. I enjoyed tonight too. I’m looking forward to tomorrow too. I’ll bring dessert. 😀

Jensen: Sounds great. Would you mind texting me when you get home. I just want to make sure you get home safely.

You: Yeah, sure.

You put your phone down and started driving home. You smiled thinking Jensen wanted you to text him. Honestly you felt like you were dreaming. Jensen Ackles was your client, and was texting you. How is this real life?

You pulled in the driveway and walked in the house. Your mom was on the couch and your dad was asleep in the chair. “Hey honey, you’re home late. How did the lesson go?” “Oh, hey mom, yeah it went a little over. We are meeting again tomorrow.” “That’s great, dinner is in the fridge if you’re hungry.” You walked over to your mom and hugged her, “Thanks mom. I appreciate it.”

Walking to the kitchen you pulled out your phone and sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m safely at home. About to eat some dinner.

Jensen: Glad you got home safe. Thanks for letting me know. So, what’s for dinner?

You smiled at your phone. He’s really wanting to chat with me. Oh I hope I don’t embarrass myself.

You: Mom made supper and put it in the fridge. I’m not sure yet.

Jensen: That’s sweet. So, you live with your parents or did your mom just cook you something.

Shit, Jensen, now you’re going to scare her away. Why ask her if she lives at home. What does it matter?

Jensen: I’m sorry, that came across as intrusive. I didn’t mean it like that.

You: It wasn’t. Yeah I moved back in with them not that long ago. After my divorce I needed a change of scenery so I came home. Just trying to save up some money to move out on my own.

Jensen: I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. Speaking from experience they can be hard.

You: Yeah, they aren’t for the faint of heart. It looks like mom made roasted chicken, potatoes and veggies.

Jensen: Yum, sounds delicious. I can let you go so you can eat.

You: You don’t have to. I can chat and eat. If you want to.

Jensen: I do.

You: So, what’s Jensen Ackles doing taking guitar lessons?

Jensen: I’m just trying to hone my skills so I can get better at it. Figured I’d get pointers from a professional.

You: I can appreciate that. As a teacher I try to learn what I can and invest in my knowledge when I can. Practice makes progress. 😀

Jensen: So true. If you don’t mind me asking, how long were you married?

You: About 13 years. We just drifted apart and were more roommates than anything. We decided to split, so I moved back home.

Jensen: I’m sorry. That’s tough.

You: Thanks. So enough about my failed love life. What got you interested in music?

Jensen: I’ve always played and music helps me relax, so I wanted to explore music as an outlet to help with stress.

You: That sounds amazing. I’m glad I can be a part of it.

Jensen: Me too, I can’t wait for our session tomorrow.

You: Me either. Well, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get ready for bed. I have to be up early for work tomorrow.

Jensen: No problem, I understand. Thanks for chatting with me. I’ll see you tomorrow.

You: Yeah, thanks for chatting. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Jensen.

Jensen: Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.

You put your phone down and smiled. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Putting your dishes in the sink, you went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed. When you finally crawled into bed, you were too excited to sleep. Thinking about Jensen and the kiss on your cheek, made your heart flutter. You finally fell asleep after laying awake for at least an hour, thinking about him and what tomorrow night would bring.

The next day at work you couldn’t help but wear a smile all day. Your colleagues and students noticed it. Stacy walked up to you after dismissal, “Hey, girl. What’s got you smiling so much?” “Nothing much. I just feel like things are starting to fall into place. I have lessons lined up, I love this job, and I just feel free.” She hugged you, “I’m happy for you. What are your plans for this weekend?” “Well, I have another lesson tonight, but I'm not sure about the rest of the weekend. I think I’m just going to relax.” “That’s great, well I’ll see you later, bye Y/N.” “Bye girl, have a great weekend.”

You gathered your stuff and headed towards your car. You noticed a text from Jensen, “Hey, how was your day?” You smiled and sent him a reply, “It was great, how was your day?” “It was good. I volunteered at the kids’ school today, so that was fun. I’m looking forward to tonight.” “Me too, I’ll text you more when I get home.”

You drove home and went inside, greeting your parents. “Hey, mom. I have another lesson tonight, so I won’t be home until later. I’m getting dinner out tonight.” “Okay, sounds good.”

You went to your room, grabbed a change of clothes and went to take a shower before you had to meet Jensen. Before jumping in the shower, you sent Jensen a text.

You: Just got home, jumping in the shower.

Jensen: I’m glad you made it home safely, and thanks for the image. 😉

You looked at his reply. Is he flirting with me?

You: You’re welcome. 😉 Getting in now. I’ll be right back.

Jensen: I’ll be waiting.

You took a quick shower, dried off and looked at the outfit you picked. Suddenly it didn’t seem good enough. You sighed and started looking through your clothes. You’re overthinking this. He’s there for lessons, nothing more. Get that out of your head. Oh but good lord did you see how his fingers pressed on those strings, and how his hand held the guitar. You bit your lip thinking about Jensen.

Grabbing your dark blue lace bra and matching panties, you slid them on. You decided on your favorite jeans, that fit you just right, and one of your band t-shirts. You decided to leave your hair down, but grabbed a hair tie for later.

Grabbing your phone you sent Jensen a text.

You: Okay, I’m done and getting ready to head out the door. I’ll be at the studio shortly if you decide to come early.

Jensen: Great, I’m almost ready so I’ll be heading that way soon too. What are you wearing? 😜

You: *sent picture* 😉

Jensen’s name kept popping up showing he was texting but nothing came through.

Shit! I shouldn’t have sent it. Great, now he’s thinking of a way to back out.

Jensen: Wow, you look beautiful. I can’t wait to see you in person.

You: Thank you. I can’t wait to see you either.

You blushed as you put your phone away. Heading down the stairs your mom looked at you. “Well don’t you look beautiful, must be some lesson.” She winked at you. “Mom, I’m just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.” “Okay, baby. Have fun tonight.” “Thanks mom, bye.”

You stopped at the store and grabbed a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, you knew it was his favorite and headed to the studio. As you walked up to unlock the door you heard a sultry voice behind you, “Hello, darlin’.” A shiver went down your spine. You knew it was Jensen before you even turned around.

You turned and smiled, “Hey, Jensen.” You looked him up and down, damn did he look good. You bit your lip as a slight blush filled your cheeks and a yearning filled your core. Unlocking the door, the two of you stepped in. “Let’s sit everything down over here on the counter.” You motioned towards the counter on the right.

Jensen sat the food down and saw the cake in your hands. “Did you really get a cake?” He asked excitedly. You nodded, “Yep, chocolate with chocolate frosting. Your favorite.” Jensen smiled at you and stepped closer to you, putting his hands on your waist he pulled you close. Your breath hitched. You could smell his intoxicating cologne. He smelled woodsy and like mint.

Jensen brushed a stray hair back and hugged you, “Thank you.” Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You swallowed hard, “You’re welcome, Jensen.” You whispered.

The two of you stared at each other for a few minutes before pulling away. Jensen cleared his throat, “So I hope you don’t mind, but I picked up some BBQ from my favorite place downtown.” “BBQ is perfect, thank you.” Jensen pulled the containers out of the bag and you grabbed plates and silverware. The two of you grabbed some food and started eating.

The conversation over dinner was comfortable. Both of you talked about your family, you talked about your job, and the conversation drifted towards both of your failed marriages. You learned his marriage ended kinda like yours did. He and his ex just drifted apart. They both were gone all the time, and even though they tried to make it work, they just grew apart.

After the food was done, you were cleaning up and Jensen got out his guitar and music. While you cleaned, he played and sang. You could listen to him sing all day long. You stopped cleaning and leaned against the counter watching him.

The intensity in his eyes drove you wild. As he sang the vein in his neck popped out and you gasped. The shirt he was wearing showed off his toned body, and as he played his biceps flexed, causing you to clench your thighs and bite your lower lip.

Jensen looked up and noticed you were watching him, he also noticed the pink in your cheeks. He smiled at you. His green eyes seemed to sparkle. You finished cleaning and took a seat next to him. You were so flustered you could barely play your guitar, and he laughed. “Come here darlin’, let me show you the cord. He grabbed your hand and placed his fingers on yours, helping you play the notes. His hot breath rushed across your neck and his body pressed firmly behind yours.

Your breath hitched as you felt his firm fingers on yours. You turned your face to face him, “Jensen…” Before you could finish your sentence, his lips pressed against yours. You pulled back. “Oh god, I am so sorry, Y/N.” Jensen jumped up and started to pack his guitar away. You walked over to him, touched his arm, “Jensen, it’s okay.” He stood up and looked at you. You stepped closer to him, looking in his eyes. He closed the distance between you two, cupped your face in his hands and crashed his lips on yours.

You melted into his touch, and moaned in his mouth. His hands slid down your arms and pulled you by your waist closer to him. Your hands went behind his neck and your fingers danced in his hair.

Both of you deepen the kiss, Jensen’s tongue licked your lips, begging for entrance. You parted your mouth and soon your tongues were doing an intricate dance in each other’s mouth, fighting for dominance.

Jensen walked you back to the couch, not parting from your lips. Soon the need for air became too much. You both pulled away panting for air. Jensen sat down and pulled you down on his lap. You were straddling him and he pulled you back into his lips.

His hands traveled up your shirt and held onto your back. You could feel his growing erection and it excited you. Jensen’s fingers played with the hem of your shirt and you leaned up, giving him permission to remove it. His hands slid down and pulled your shirt up and over your head.

Jensen’s eyes turned dark with lust when he saw your lace bra. You could almost hear a low growl. You were self-conscious about your body and tried to hide a little. I mean, this is Jensen Ackles, he has dated and married movie stars and models. “Baby, don’t hide your body, you’re perfect.” He kissed down your collarbone, to your covered breasts.

You threw your head back at the contact. God his lips and fingers felt amazing on your body.

Jensen leaned forward a bit, and removed his shirt. Exposing his perfectly toned body. You groaned and danced your fingers down his chest. Jensen stood, lifting you up like you weighed nothing, spun you around and gently laid you on the couch. “Can I take these off?” He asked, motioning to your pants. You nodded yes, not trusting your voice. His fingers brushed against your skin as he unbuttoned the top button and unzipped your pants.

Your breathing grew faster as your heart pumped wildly in your chest. You lifted your hips and he pulled down your pants and panties in one pull. He groaned when he saw your exposed body, laying, waiting for him. You laid on the couch, in nothing but your bra. Jensen’s hands slipped behind you and you leaned forward letting him unhook your bra. As you laid back down, Jensen’s fingers danced over your shoulders and slid down your straps. Lightly raking your skin with his fingertips.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he touched you. Exposing your breasts, Jensen leaned back looking over your now naked form. You wanted to hide your body, but he wouldn’t let you. You were breathing faster as the anticipation in the room crackled with thickness. Jensen stood and removed his pants and boxers.

You let out a shuddered breath as you took in his perfect, toned body. His cock was hard and longer than you expected. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your mouth.

“You okay, sweetheart? Are you sure you want this?” “Yes, Jensen. I’m sure.” Jensen nodded and kissed down your torso. He used his fingers to part your folds, feeling how wet you are. His fingers danced in and out of your folds, pressing your engorged clit, like he was playing an instrument. He knew how to work your body, like he had been doing it for years. His strong, calloused fingers found their way inside you. You moaned and gripped the couch as he hooked his fingers up. “Oh Jensen. Just like that. Oh god that feels so good.” Jensen’s fingers moved in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. You felt yourself getting closer to your release. Flush filling your face, sweat beading on your forehead. Your ragged breath mixed with the instinctive moans filled the room. “Come on baby, I can feel you getting close, just let go for me. You can do it.” “Oh Jensen, I’m gonna cum!” “Cum for me, Y/N.” With that you were pushed over the edge. You came hard, so hard you saw stars.

Jensen rubbed until you were a squirming mess under him. As he helped you ride your high, he removed his fingers. You moaned at the loss of fullness. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” “Yes, Jensen, I need you. Please.”

Jensen retrieved a condom from his wallet and pumped himself a few times before putting it on. He slid it on and positioned himself between your legs. The tip of his cock pushed past your folds and into you. As Jensen pushed in, both of you let out a primal moan. He stopped, trying not to cum. “Sorry I need a minute.” He whispered. You giggled. He leaned up and started pumping in and out. His lips landed on yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Jensen was gentle with you, and with each thrust he stretched you like you’d never been stretched before.

His hands explored every inch of your body, your eyes kept finding each other’s and each time, Jensen softly kissed you. Every thrust, every touch felt like home. Your body was his and his was yours. Even if just in that moment. Jensen pulled you on top of him as he sat up, not pulling out of you. The change in position had you gripping his shoulders as you rode him. He was deeper than he was before. Each bounce sent you closer to your second release. You began bouncing as Jensen sucked on your breasts. “Jensen, I’m gonna cum again.” “Me too, cum for me baby.” You came hard around his cock, your walls squeezing his shaft and pulling his release out of him. With a thrust and a grunt, Jensen came too. Shooting his load into the condom.

As he finished, he leaned his forehead against yours and placed a soft kiss on your lips. Both of you had a light sheen on your bodies from the sweat. Your face was flush and so was his, and both of you were softly panting.

You slowly got off of him, making sure not to pull off the condom. Moving to the side, Jensen stood, placed another kiss on your lips and walked over to the trash can to remove the condom and clean himself up. You started to pull on your clothes, when he walked back over. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you again. “That was amazing, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.” You smiled, “Yes it was, thank you, Jensen.” He smiled and kissed you again.

You both got dressed and sat on the couch, holding each other. The room was filled with silence. Clearing your throat, you sat up and looked at him, “So, what does this mean? I’m fine if it was just to blow off steam. I just want to know.” “Well, I’d like to see where this goes, if you’re up for it.” Jensen looked at you as he said it. “Really, Jensen? I would love that.” “Good, because I’ve always wanted to say I was hot for teacher.” You laughed, and so did he.

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it-was-summer · 3 months ago

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Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Y'all this chapter took so long to write. This is NOT proofread once again me and Grammarly were beefing because she doesn't understand fanfiction. Nonetheless, it is 12 am MST and here it is. Now for an overall warning, this chapter talks about so much that I was to let everyone know that I meant for this to be a dark series. That was my goal. I'm so sorry if some of these topics seem like they're too heavy for you. If you feel overwhelmed, disgusted, or just find it hard to read please remember that it is okay and you are loved. This chapter mentions miscarriages, eating disorders, gunshot wounds, suicide, etc. I love you all and stay healthy. I will try to post my 500 followers post soon! Not proofread because eepy. YOU'LL read my chapter unedited and you'll like it! (hopefully). Thanks for reading. -Love you all, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #3 > Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

WARNING: miscarriage, eating disorder, catholic guilt, bisexuality mention??, period underwear, stalking, marital problem, divorce, sexual harassment, guns, knives, gunshot wound, This bitch shoots someone, suicide, mention of a skull, blood so much blood.

Tape Contents: We briefly dive into Heather's past. Adeline makes a call that gives the team a reason to visit the suburbs. Heather makes a decision. You see something other than pink for the first time in four days.

Word Count: 6,296

Seven to Four Years Prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had to get out of Norfolk. She felt suffocated under her father’s watchful gaze and helicopter ways. He was a hard man to love and hard to be around in general. When he drank, she used to pray that he would forget about her, so she became quiet. She didn’t have many friends here anyway, so she took you out of the equation and knew no one else would know her name.

So, with a heavy heart, she moved her life away to Richmond. She changed her major to nursing and killed that quiet girl from Norfolk. She fabricated real lies that sometimes she couldn’t separate from reality. She stared at girls silently with longing and played it off as admiration if she was ever caught. Catholic guilt stopped it from growing into anything else.

She was slow to open up about her feelings and showed people an extroverted sorority girl nursing graduate who liked to go to bars on the weekend and let men’s hands pull at her hips desperately in dark corners.

Now, at twenty-four, she only thought about one thing: how good her stomach looked in this dress. She had thinned out tremendously since the move. At first, it started due to not having enough money to eat anywhere except the shitty university cafeteria. Then, it warped into something else. During its worst moments, she would log her calories or purge food moments after eating it. She could look into mirrors afterward and feel she was achieving something remarkable. Then, sometimes, she would also look at her face and think, ‘Is that what I look like’?

But tonight, she wanted to do something different, something fun. Having told her sorority sisters this, they all jumped on board quickly, agreeing to meet at the bar around 10 p.m. that Saturday. They were thirty minutes late.

Heather was gently fiddling with the hem of her short black dress, her eyes flickering towards the entrance every so often as she waited for them to walk in. This year, she wanted to be happier, less suffering in silence, and a little more smiley. So yes, she wanted to have fun with people she called friends. Despite all her efforts, she was sure they could see right through her sometimes. She swallowed nervously as she nursed a margarita.

The next time she looked at her phone, she saw texts from her former sisters saying that work had been hectic and that they needed to reschedule for another time. So now, Heather Alexander was right back at square one: alone. She glanced down at her dress and frowned slightly at its tight material. It was the kind of dress that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable. Something always felt wrong with that. Heather always secretly knew that she felt an attraction to women and men, but she always felt guilty at the thought.

She sighed as she debated her next move when she saw him. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen. He had soft masculine features that almost looked slightly feminine, a uniform clad against his chest, and a charming boyish smile as their eyes met. Heather whispered a silent prayer that he would like her as he approached her and introduced himself as David Hernandez. How could she not fall for him instantly? Deep brown eyes, pink lips, dark skin, and a low rumble in his voice made her feel like giggling.

It wasn’t long before the two of them were getting married. They spent a few months together in domestic bliss. He got some time off from work, and she kept her last name, and they were… happy.

At least they were happy for six months, and then her world shattered around her as David was deployed to England. She cried herself to sleep the night she heard, and David stroked her back softly to calm her. Heather didn’t want him to leave her and see someone better overseas. She was sure that women would throw themselves at David’s feet, begging him to kiss them, touch them, fuck them, like whores in the street of Babylon. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, looking at him the way she looked at him, talking to him the way she did in his ear late at night. She begged him to try and find some way out of it, scared to lose what was rightfully hers, but he couldn’t. He left that week.

At first, it was just six months, but then it stretched out into a year of deployment—a year spent being faithful to a man across the Atlantic. She called him when she had time, wrote letters to him, sent him emails, and constantly contacted him in any way she could.

When he got home, it was clear that all her efforts had gone to waste. David was distant. He would sulk in corners of their home on his phone. He would lament on and on about how England felt like his home and how he missed it. She couldn’t stand it. This house they bought together was his home, and it always had been. Why was he struggling to see that?

The more he talked of his deployment, the more Heather became frustrated with him. Then he started to go out more. At first, it was just to speak with some Army friends on base a few spread-out weekends in the month. Then it was every weekend.

Heather found that the only thing that could keep him home was sex. So they had sex constantly, like animals in heat. Disgusting and rutting against each other any moment they could. However, the second that it was over, he would withdraw again. He would get dressed and say he had to get to the base.

Then he was coming late, drunk and slurring, as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and woke her up with sensual touches and dirty talk. She took this as a good sign he was coming home to his wife. He was fucking her and no one else. But slowly, he stopped coming home. He would call her late at night to tell her he would stay with a friend for the night. The following day, he would come home smelling sweet.

Heather felt lost, searching desperately for something to save her marriage. She was devoting all of her love to a man who no longer wanted it, and she could feel him falling out of love with her.

Her saving grace was the morning that she found out she was pregnant. She called David with tears in her eyes and told him softly over the phone, and she heard him laugh for the first time in months. And just like that, he was back.

His soft touches, kisses in the grocery store, and dancing with her in the living room were all back. Her devoted and dotting husband had returned home to her. She could feel the dark cloud of the past couple of months dissipate and the sun shining on her.

That light lasted a good three months. Heather sat up straight as pain coursed through her body, thundering in her abdomen as she shook David awake with tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong with the baby; she knew it. He drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, but it was too late. She had already miscarried.

Heather took a small sabbatical from work and took time to think about her life. She would stare out of their living room window blankly for hours. David was attentive at first, coming home after work and tending to Heather’s broken spirit. But he soon became bored of that routine.

When Heather returned to the pediatric oncology unit, David was notified that he was being deployed again to Okinawa, Japan. He was packed and ready by the end of that month. She didn’t see him off at the airport, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to distract her from the fact that he was leaving her again.

David called her two months into his leave to tell her he wasn’t happy. He wanted a divorce. Then he hung up before she could get a word in. That’s when it all started. Her obsession with consuming anything romantic was almost debilitating. She would visit bookstores and attend readings at the public library, sometimes calling off from work to sit at home with her romances. That’s when she saw you again. She thought that you would have stayed in Norfolk. You had once told her that you loved the water. You liked how it could look gloomy and promising on different days, with mist rolling off the surface.

She tried not to talk to you. She did. She didn’t want to scare you away like she scared David away. No, no, no, she was sure it would all work out this time. So she loved you from a comfortable distance, watching you from her car on the weekends at night, leaving you her gifts on your windshield—a silent courting.

She couldn’t help herself on Valentine’s Day. She had slipped into Nicole Smith’s room without Adeline recognizing her, and she gave the table with Adeline’s purse on it a gentle knock with her hip. Heather apologized quickly, telling her not to worry. She promptly dropped to the floor to gather the spilled contents from Adeline’s bag, and she slipped a labeled key connected to a keychain that read ‘or die’ into her pocket. Once she had copied the key, she quickly returned the original to its owner.

She felt electric when she entered your apartment on Valentine's Day in a dark outfit, a hood covering her face, and four dozen rose petals in a container. She breathed in your perfume as she perused through your bathroom. She traced the spine of every book she could touch on your shelves. She gently dove into your dirty hamper and quickly pulled out a pair of dirty underwear, blood on the inside of them as she shamelessly slipped them into her pocket. Then she got to work spreading the petals throughout your apartment. By the end, she stared at her work, panting lightly as she lay across on your rose-covered bed.

She had to have you.

Present Day- March 5, 20XX

Derek and Spencer managed to get to the public library an hour before closing. They pulled your coworker, Valerie, aside. She was a pretty brunette, glasses resting on her face delicately as she stared at the two men with a soft look of disappointment. She knew that if they were here, they had yet to find you, and the thought made her feel like breaking down in a fit of tears. She fought the urge to cry as Derek asked her a question, sliding a copy of the Polaroid you had received on your windshield. “Do you happen to remember anyone coming in with a Polaroid camera?”

Valerie stared at the Polaroid with a soft frown, trying to remember something helpful. Spencer spoke quickly, “Sometime around January fourteenth, maybe?”

Valerie chewed on her bottom lip before the memory washed over her, “Yes! Yes, oh gosh, she was blonde, I think. I remember telling her we didn’t like flash photography in the library. I only saw the back of her head, but I remember the back of her head and the flash of a camera.”

Spencer tilted his head slightly and nodded at Valerie’s words, processing the information silently.“Are you sure it was a woman?” Spencer asked softly before Valarie enthusiastically nodded.

“Yes, it was definitely a woman who took the picture.” She confirmed in a soft voice before she looked down at the Polaroid with a gentle tenderness in her eyes. “She baked me cookies last week, you know?” She looked up at the two men with a sad smile and tears in her eyes. “My cat is sick, and she made me cookies to make me feel better.” She laughed sadly as the tears started to fall.

Derek placed a soft hand over Valerie’s and gave her a tender look, “We’re looking for her,” The words caused a shaky sigh to escape Valarie’s lips as she pulled her hand away quickly and stood up.

Her cheeks were red as she cried out a soft “Excuse me.” before she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room.

Spencer picked up the picture and stared at you in the photo. The way your hair shined in the fluorescent light, your eyes and smile trained directly on the person you were talking to. You were personable, and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked over at Derek as Spencer handed the photo back to him.

The two men walked out of the library silently, and Derek let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun starting to settle against the horizon. Spencer walked beside him with his hand stuffed in his pockets, and his head hung a little low in thought.

Derek broke the silence first, “We should get back to the station to see if JJ and Rossi have anything,”

And then they rode back in contemplative silence after that.

March 6, 20XX

You weren’t sure if it was day or night anymore. All you knew was that you were starting to feel uneven. Every creak of wood, settling of pipes, and rumble of the house had your back straightening against the bed. You were sure that Heather would fly in at any moment and touch you.

A million options weighed heavy in your mind at the scenario; you could fight back again, but that would get you sliced again or worse. You could go with it, zone out as much as possible, let her have her way with you. That option made your head spin with nausea. You had to find a way to get out.

You licked at the gash on your lip, gently exploring the cut with your tongue until you could feel the warmth of blood again. You pushed your tongue back into your mouth and looked over at your day-old apple on the nightstand, half-eaten and brown. You tenderly took a small bite that wouldn’t require you to move your lips too much.

You didn’t have much of the day-old meal left; a half-full water and this apple was all you had. You chewed softly, fighting off the nausea that threatened to creep in due to the morphine.

You tried to remember anything that could be helpful to you. It was hard to think of high doses of morphine. You had played with the knob often; when you were ready to sleep, it would go up, and when you were up, it would turn down. But lately, you just wanted it to be turned up.

You tried to think of when Heather came into the pink room. She always stuffed her keys into her pockets. A plan was in the making: Get her out of her clothes, and you could get the keys.

You nodded a little despite your discomfort with the idea of her touching you again. You just had to seduce her a little, which should be easy considering that she was ‘in love’ with you. The only problem with that plan was that you had a mangled ankle and a body running on morphine; she didn’t. Heather’s temper was quick when you talked back, and rage followed if you did something against her liking.

Maybe begging would work. No, you tried that already. Why would begging work? Perhaps you could hurt yourself just enough to force her to take you to the hospital. But that didn’t work either; she was a nurse. She wouldn’t incriminate herself like that, would she? Maybe total submission would be the key.

Convince her that you love her back and somehow ask to be let out with her supervision, but that could take forever.

You started to cry softly as you set down the core of the apple and laid down, wishing to pull your legs to your chest, but the pain of one ankle and the chain around the other made that physically impossible.

You cried until you felt your eyelids become heavy, tears still slipping out of your eyes as you fell into a morphine-induced sleep.

March 6, 20XX

JJ paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board, occasionally flicking her eyes over to the photos pinned to it as she tried to chase what was likely to be a loose end. The number that had called yours and left a message full of sobs had been a burner.

Spencer had tried to tell her to eat something this morning, but as the clock’s hands crept towards nine a.m., she still didn’t feel hungry enough to try. She sighed out another frustrated huff as Emily appeared in front of her. “If you sigh like that one more time, I think I might have to force a croissant down your throat.”

JJ gave her another dramatic sigh before she put her hands on her hips: “I’m sorry, I just feel like we have no leads. We know it's a woman, but Adeline isn’t likely to be the unsub, and all her coworkers have alibis. It just feels like we are running around with our heads cut off.”

Emily smiled and gave her a gentle nod of understanding, “I get it, but you pacing around like this isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get you a drink, coffee, or maybe something to eat.”

“People who eat breakfast consistently are twenty-five percent likely to be more productive at work,” Spencer spoke up from a desk not too far from the two women.

Emily pointed over at Spencer, “See? You’re making Spencer freak out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Spencer frowned at the comment before looking back at a file on the desk.

JJ’s smile was slow as she let her hands fall to her side and let out a soft, “Fine.” She agreed as Emily walked over to the precinct's breakroom, JJ following her.

Derek was clicking a pen obnoxiously in an off-beat rhythm. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring on his desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Hi, uhm, is this Special Agent Morgan?” Adeline’s voice was shaky through the phone.

Derek relaxed slightly as he set down his pen. “Yeah, Adeline. Did something happen?” He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she would call the number he had left with her if nothing happened. He was too focused on the case to think of any other reason anyway.

“Yeah, maybe? I was talking to one of the nurses about something today, and I recognized one of them. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but it was an old friend from college. She was more Y/N’s friend than mine, but I talked to her a little.” Adeline’s voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, “I mentioned that she was missing, and Heather had a weird reaction. She smiled for a second. I swear, she said she was sad to hear that, but she looked… well, for a second, it just seemed like maybe she was happy.”

Derek picked the pen back up again, ready to write down a name. It wasn’t much, but they could visit her. “What was her name again?”

“Gosh, it was Heather something… Heather, Heather, Heather,” She bit her lip as she tried to think back. “Alexander! Heather Alexander.”

Derek wrote it down and muttered quickly, “We'll look into it, thanks.” As a goodbye, he let Adeline quickly thank him over the phone before he hung up and called Penelope.

Penelope, quick as always, picked up on the first ring. “Center of divine intellect,” was her greeting.

“Good morning to you, too, baby girl. Listen, could you get Heather Alexander's address? Adeline Smith called saying that she had a strange reaction to hearing about our girl going missing.”

“Easy,” was her answer before Derek could hear the sounds of keys being tapped against and a soft humming sound emitting from Penelope’s lips as she pulled up the address: “4432 Lake Margaret Pl., Chesterfield, Virginia.”

“You are an angel, Garcia.”

“I always aim to please,”

“And you never fail, baby girl.”

JJ had begged Derek with her eyes to let her go with Spencer. It was just an interview, not even an interrogation, just to see if the connection between you and Heather went deeper than old college friends. So why shouldn’t she go?

Derek wasn’t one to put up a big fight, so he let her with Spencer. It was only thirty minutes away anyway, so if they needed the team it wouldn’t take too long for them to show up, right? He stayed behind on the phone with Garcia, who was doing her best to see if Heather had any criminal history on her record.

As the car rolled around the cul de sac, Spencer’s eyes struggled to look away from the plethora of plants in the fenced-in front yard. Pink anemones were scattered amongst daffodils, and what looked like daisies were blooming side by side. JJ rolled the car to a stop, parking it against the curb.

“Pretty yard,” She muttered as she took the keys out of the ignition. Spencer nodded a little; he had to admit that Spring came in a close second to Fall as the superior season in his mind. The flowers growing after frozen earth had kept them dormant, the welcomed feeling of the sun getting slightly warmer. It was still somewhat chilly at ten in the morning as he stepped out of the car with JJ, but he had to admit, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day weather-wise.

His head tilted back a little as he stole a glance at the blue sky above them and smiled before stuffing his hands into his pockets and tilting his head toward the house. JJ smiled and walked beside him, happy to be out of the precinct and in the early morning air.

Heather was washing the paring knife she had used on you in her kitchen sink, facing a large bay window in her living room. She swiped at the hardened blood and frowned a little at the memory. Why was she so upset with you? She could hardly remember herself when she got angry like that.

It was almost fitting, her flying off the handle over something so simple as you not being ready for her love. Was she no better than a man? Had she gotten so accustomed to men's vile and sharp ways that she had somehow forgotten how to be gentle?

She felt her hands shake as a voice came into her head, whispering her worst fear: She was worse than her father.

She let tears blur her vision at the thought as she rubbed the knife harder with a sponge, shaking her head quickly. No, no, no, no. She was not like that man. She was not cold like that man. She was lovable. She felt love. She felt overwhelming love for you. She had felt overwhelming love for David.

Her downward spiral was cut short as she lifted her weeping head and saw a black SUV parked in front of her yard. She quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffled lightly as she gently slid the knife into the dishwasher, watching two people get out of the van.

Heather’s eyes were glued to the blonde at first, pretty and fair in the morning sun before her eyes flickered to the man beside her. She recognized him immediately. She was sure it was the same man she almost ran into at the hospital yesterday.

She dried her hands as she walked around the kitchen island. As they got closer, her head arched to see how close they were. Panic was running through her veins. Her gun was in her room upstairs, loaded. She just had to get upstairs; her feet were quick to try and run upstairs and stash it somewhere close before they could ring the doorbell. Just as the idea seemed plausible enough, the bell rang through the house.

Heather let out a silent scream of panic as she smoothed out her shirt, fixed her hair, and caught a quick glance of her pretty face in the mirror near the front door before she swung it open with a pleasantly fake smile on her face. Her eyes quickly scanned both of their faces as she smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Jennifer Jareau. This is Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI, and we were just wondering if we could ask you some questions.” JJ spoke clearly as she flashed her badge at Heather, a slight smile on her lips as she looked into Heather’s eyes. Spencer recognized her, finding it strange that he had almost run directly into the beautiful woman at the hospital just the day before.

Heather laughed softly and nodded as she stepped aside, opening the door wider to let the two agents inside. “Of course,” Her hands were shaking, but she gripped the edge of the door tightly, half tempted to slam it directly in their faces and go upstairs to shoot Catherine and herself to freedom.

They weren’t on to her yet; she was sure of that– especially given their lack of people– just two against one. She was quick to shut the door behind them before leading the two of them into her living room. “Can I get you two any water? I have some juice.”

The two agents shook their heads in a polite ‘no, thank you’ way as they sat on the sofa across from Heather. Heather sat on a chair with a soft “Okay” as she eyed them carefully. “Am I in some kind of trouble here?”

“No, We just wanted to ask you a few questions regarding an old college friend of yours, Y/N L/N.”

“Well,” She smoothed out her long skirt slowly, remembering to breathe normally, “What about her?”

“Had you been in contact with her at all? Did she mention anything about someone following her?”

Heather let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head, “I haven’t really had the time to reach out to old friends lately,”

Spencer’s interest peaked as he joined the conversation, “How come?”

Heather’s gaze became a little pointed at the question. Of course, the man has to ask her, “I lost a baby recently, and my husband was deployed soon after, so forgive me for not becoming pen pals with someone I knew at eighteen.” The words were direct and vicious, but she couldn’t help herself. She blew out a soft sigh before she let out a gentle and timid, “I’m sorry,”

Spencer licked his lips nervously as he leaned back against the sofa slightly, trying to resist the urge to disappear into it. Self-isolation wasn’t uncommon for women who had recently suffered from a miscarriage. That feeling more than likely increased as her support system was ripped away from her.

JJ gently touched Spencer’s knee before she cut the tension. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Alexander. We’re just trying to piece some information together.”

Heather ran a hand through her hair before she gave JJ a tight-lipped smile. “I understand that; I’m sorry. Would it be alright if I ran upstairs for some medicine? I feel a headache coming on.” She spoke fast with a tense voice, trying her hardest to pass it off as pain with a rub of her temple. When JJ nodded, she stood up and headed upstairs as calmly as she could manage.

JJ looked over at Spencer, watching Heather walk away carefully. “She seems angrier with men than anything.” Her voice was slightly amused before Spencer frowned.

“Doesn’t mean she’s in the clear; stalking is often a form of intense infatuation, but it's also used as a way to control something. She’s struggling with two things that could be our stressors: she’s craving control or dependency. She-” The soft ringing of his phone cut off his whispered rant. He answered it, happy that at least it was just Garcia calling, hoping for a better lead than his ongoing hunch.

He stood and looked at JJ, who was mouthing for him to go outside, “Hey,” He answered as he slipped out of the front door.

“Hey, nothing is coming up anywhere on Heather’s record for criminal activity—sorority sister, wife, nurse, clean as a whistle. However, considering we don’t have much right now, I decided to see if she had any warnings at work.”

“Right,” Spencer looked over his shoulder at the front door as he walked away to stand in front of the garage.

“Well, last month, she got a write-up for stealing some morphine; her supervisor forced her to go see a therapist after Heather said that she was using it for some leftover pain she was experiencing after her miscarriage. But Heather never showed,”

Spencer was walking a little further down the driveway as he listened to Garcia talk on the phone, counting the number of windows in the house. His eyes narrowed slightly to try and block out the sun before he looked away. He licked his bottom lip gently before acting on his little hunch, “Could you check her credit report? See if there are any purchases that you can find that seem odd around March third?”

“Could I check her credit report,” Garcia repeated with a laugh, “Hold on, boy genius.”

Spencer could see the top of JJ’s head from the bay window, and he turned away slightly, finding ease in the fact that she was still there. Something felt off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She went to the store, but nothing crazy. Bought,” He could hear typing, “Bleach and rubbing alcohol.”

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek as he asked, “When was her husband deployed again? Did she buy anything from a florist around Valentine’s Day?”

“Husband was deployed December first and,” she hummed gently before she sighed, “Bought some flowers on Valentine’s day, rose petals.”

Spencer felt that feeling when something connected in his brain, a rush of adrenaline as he felt his hunch slowly turn into a plausible accusation. The roses were just that, roses. But the bleach and rubbing alcohol? That’s a recipe for chloroform right there. And finally, Heather’s husband was deployed at the beginning of December, stressor number two. It made him feel slightly hopeful about walking back into the house. “Thanks, Garcia.” He said as his feet reached the end of the driveway. He hung up the phone, walking back towards the house at a fast pace when the familiar and startling 'crack' of a gun reached his ears.

His hands drew his gun out of the holster, running back towards the house. He pushed the front door open with his foot as he heard the thumping of footsteps running on the stairs. He rounded the corner to the living room before lowering his gun as he saw JJ bleeding from a bullet wound in her thigh.

“JJ!” His voice panicked as he reached her groaning side, kneeling low to the ground next to her. “What happened?”

JJ shook her head quickly, “I’m calling for backup. She ran upstairs. She didn’t even try to,” her eyes squeezed shut tightly as a sharp pain rattled through her inner thigh, “Just go!” She urged him as she reached down for the phone in her back pocket, her free hand pressing on her gushing wound to try and slow the bleeding.

Spencer’s eyes were filled with uncertainty as he let out a soft, “No, I’ll stay here until everyone gets-”

“Spencer, go!”

Spencer felt his spine straighten at the second command. He gave her a grim nod as he stood up, readied his gun, and started for the stairs. His footsteps were soft and calculated as he ascended, pink light flooding the floor as he approached the top of the stairs. He could hear gentle begging in a voice too soft and thick to be Heather’s.

“Please, Heather, please, my love. Don’t, please don’t.” Repetitive cries for mercy made his legs move faster until he approached an opened door. The regular-looking bedroom door gave way to a steel one just behind it before revealing the scene of what looked like a demented love nest.

Spencer swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the scene. Gun pointed carefully at Heather as he spoke, “Heather, put down the gun. You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. You know that.”

Heather jumped a little at the sound, her pistol clicking softly as her sweaty palms tightened their grip. She was quick to turn her body around to face him with the gun aimed directly at him as she spoke. “Don’t pretend like you know me or her. You don’t know our relationship. She wants this just as much as I do.”

“You know she doesn’t look at her. Look at what you’re doing to her.”

Heather’s eyes drifted to you, chained to the bed, watching as you hyperventilate softly. Heather felt her bottom lip quiver before she looked back at Spencer. “She’s just scared. You’re making me do this. She knows you’re making me do this.”

Spencer’s eyes drifted to your crying form on the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet as you stared at him with wild eyes. He glanced over at the morphine drip next to your bed before his eyes settled back on Heather. His lips parted to say something more, but she cut him off quickly, “Put your gun down, and I won’t do it.”

Heather’s body language gives her away as she motions for him to put his gun down, her eyes crazed and large, her hands shaking and rigid against her pistol. “I’m not going to-”

“Put your fucking, gun down, or she dies,” Heather yells so loud that it elicits a soft sob from your lips, your arms coming up to protect your head, ready for the shot to be administered and for your brains to be blown out in front of Spencer in that very moment.

Spencer holds up both of his hands at that; he swears he can hear the soft sounds of sirens in the distance as he lowers his gun to the floor slowly, his foot gently kicking the gun away with a soft ‘clack.’

“Now you,” his calm voice says as he raises his hands, inching closer. Tears stream down Heather’s face now as she shakes her head gently.

“I have to,” Is her tear-soaked reply as she keeps the barrel pointed at Spencer’s head, her fingers twitching lightly as they move for the trigger. Your shaking voice cuts through the scene, and Spencer is pretty sure it’s the only thing that is stopping him from diving for his gun a few feet from him.

“Heather, baby,” Your voice betrays you as you speak the pet name, coming off a little too forced, but you continue anyway. “He can help. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. We can be happy, and we can get away. He can help, right?” Your arms relax around your head slowly as you look over at Spencer, who nods silently.

“I can, but you have got to put your gun down.”

Heather chokes out a strangled sob as she looks over at you, watching as you smile at her. You know it’s forced, but Heather can only view it as the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—a great parting gift.

She feels spit thick on her tongue as she evaluates her options: kill Spencer and go to jail. Kill you, and she might not have enough time to kill herself. Killing herself seems like the best plan out of the three, so she holds her gun steady at Spencer as she looks at your now bleeding smile.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft, almost so human that you feel your heart clench in pity before that clenching feeling turns into pure anxiety as you see the movement of her arm. Spencer’s feet aren't quick enough for him to tackle her to the ground as Heather raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger.

Her body drops to the edge of the bed, sliding down it as you feel blood coat your legs. Your ears are ringing, and your mouth is wide open as you scream. At least you think you’re screaming. You can’t hear much but a pathetic muffle of the sound as the ringing in your ears increases.

Your hands are quick to try and wipe off chunks of what looks to be part of a skull off of your exposed stomach, and you can’t seem to stop staring at Heather’s limp body at the edge of the bed. The image of her mangled head oozing blood has you gagging softly, feeling yourself getting ready to be sick before you feel two hands cup your face.

You’re screaming or sobbing; you can’t tell anymore as Spencer Reid’s face blocks the view. He keeps your face steady in his hands as you try to read his lips, your breathing heavy as he strokes your hair gently. His voice creeps in through the ringing until you eventually hear the soft repetition of, “I got you, look at me. Just keep looking at me; you’re safe.”

You feel your breathing slow, your arms reaching up to grab him before your eyes roll back as your body slumps against Spencer’s, and everything is engulfed in black.

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