Sweat, Treachery and Scorn (WAYHAUGHT)

🔪 Play With Fire 🔪

Nicole Haught. The red hair, the brown eyes so intense they could've been black, the gorgeous dimples and smile, the sexy voice. It was all that was on Waverly's mind. She couldn't read through one sentence in her book without being reminded of the other woman, causing her to eventually return the novel to its shelf with a frustrated sigh. Needless to say, she wasn't in a good mood for the rest of the day seeing as there was an accumulation of wetness between her thighs, and―thankfully―everyone decided to stay clear of her, which was probably for the best. Lord, nobody needed her stabbing them with some utensils. 

At the end of the day, after spending most of her time in the laundry room with some blabbering hacker, she was shown to her cell with another escort of guards. It seemed they were serious about her not trying anything this time, as she was gagged and cuffed once more on the way there. It was most annoying, but at least they were getting smarter, the dimwits. 

"Here you are, Ms. Earp," the tallest and most wide shouldered guard said, removing the gag and cuffs as she was shuffled into the cell by the other men, all warily. Smart ones, she mused. If anyone's going to be manipulated, its those guys. Except big shoulders. He looks like trouble. 

"Thanks boys," she replied with a wink, figuring that flirting would be the easiest way to manipulate these guys. Some of them blushed, the others gave her a once over before returning the wink slyly, making her cringe internally. Ew, they're probably all married and they're flirting with someone less than twice their ages, for most of them. Big Shoulders rolled his eyes before marching his crew away. 

Waverly rolled her eyes once their backs were turned, massaging her sore wrists as she let her eyes roam over the room. Well, it wasn't actually a room. For one, it offered no sense of privacy. There were no walls, only bars. There was one window, letting in a sliver of natural light, but aside from that it all came from fluorescent lights flickering on and off in the hallway. There were two bunks, both stacked on top of each other, with a chest of drawers for both cellmates. Aside from that, it was barren and spoke of a mundane lifetime. 

Suddenly, behind her, Waverly heard the door open and another inmate was ushered inside. She didn't bother turning around, there was no point in socialising with some fan of her work. Although most didn't know it, she hated being a Dynamite Sister. All it did was bring loads of attention to her that she didn't need. All she had ever wanted was to go to university and finish her history degree, but she hadn't had any source of income to pay the tuition fees. Crime had been the easiest way. 

Now look at her. 

She was miserable and a failure. If only she had worked towards her dreams legally, this never would've happened. Now she wasn't going to get out of this hellhole for seven years. She was going to miss seven years of Wynonna's life, of Jeremy's life, of his boyfriend Robin's life. She was going to be all alone, and that was terrifying. Even for someone who blew up buildings weekly and had been bitten by a dog that morning. 

"Didn't expect to be sharing a cell with you," a sultry and teasing voice said from behind her, their shadow consuming the brunette's form from where she was crouched next to the drawers. 

It can't be her, can it? Oh shit.....

Waverly shot up in disbelief, her eyes widening when they met Nicole Haught's smug expression. This couldn't be happening. The brunette couldn't move. Was she really sharing a cell with the woman she'd gay panicked over just hours ago? Could she handle spending every night caged in with this blazing hot redhead? How long would she last before she'd crumble to an arousal filled puddle at her feet, and beg the taller woman to help her? 

"Waverly," a voice said, much closer this time. Nicole was staring at her with concern―was that concern, or a trick of her eyes?―and there was barely any space left between their bodies. She was close enough that the smaller woman could reach out and touch her if she wanted to, and before she knew it, her hands were clutching at the other woman's shoulders before she could restrain herself. Spots danced before her eyes, clouding her vision as she felt herself sway drunkenly, a strong arm wrapping around her waist to support her as she was lowered onto the bed.