#if it keeps her away from the coffee then so be it

[little-jana]

"Officer Ryan"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff, heated, fade to black smut, still smutty, 18+

Warnings: smut, kissing, jealousy, flirting, touching, fade to black smut, no explicit s*x

Words: ? 2.5k I forgot to look at the wordcount

Summary: Spencer gets jealous of a too nice Officer and they finally confess their feelings, which leads to a perfect first night together.

It wasn’t the most pleasant case to work on, but that was the norm in our line of work. A string of disappearances had brought us to a small coastal town, and the team was operating out of the local precinct. The air smelled faintly of salt and coffee—two things that kept us going during cases like this.

I was leaning over the map laid out on the desk in front of me, pinning down the key locations the victims had last been seen, when I felt a presence behind me. Glancing up, I met the warm, almost too-friendly eyes of Officer Ryan.

“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said, his voice smooth and low. “I’ve seen a lot of agents come through here, but you? You’ve got a real knack for it.”

I smiled politely, though my focus remained on the map. “Just doing my job, Officer Ryan.”

“Call me Kyle,” he said, flashing a grin. He stepped closer, his arm brushing mine as he leaned over to examine the map. “So, what’s a smart, capable woman like you doing in a job like this? Doesn’t it get… dangerous?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “That’s the nature of the job,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Across the room, I caught sight of Spencer, who was talking with Hotch and JJ. Or at least he had been. Now, his gaze was fixed on me and Kyle, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight.

“Still, it’s admirable,” Kyle continued, oblivious to the growing tension. “You ever think about transferring to a smaller precinct? A place like this, where you’d be appreciated more?”

I laughed softly, finally looking up at him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m happy where I am.”

Before Kyle could respond, Spencer appeared at my side, his presence like a sudden storm cloud. “We need to review the victim profiles again,” he said, his voice clipped.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Agent Reid, right? You’ve got quite the reputation. Didn’t realize you were her partner on this.”

Spencer’s gaze didn’t waver. “Doctor. And we’re a team,” he said evenly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of irritation.

“Of course,” Kyle said with a smirk, stepping back slightly but not far enough. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to it. But if you ever need a tour of the area, you know where to find me.”

As Kyle walked away, Spencer let out a sharp breath. “Tour of the area?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “Something you want to say, Doctor Reid?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with himself. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for officers to… distract agents during an active investigation,” he said finally.

I raised an eyebrow. “Distract? Spencer, it was harmless.”

“Harmless?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before leaning in closer. “He was flirting with you.”

I shrugged. “So what? It’s not like I encouraged it.”

“That’s not the point,” he said, his voice low but intense. “We’re here to solve a case, not… entertain advances from people who should know better.”

I stared at him, trying to decipher the storm of emotions behind his words. “Are you seriously upset about this?”

He hesitated, his jaw clenching. “I just don’t like seeing you treated like that. Like you’re… an object of someone’s attention instead of the brilliant agent you are.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. “Spencer…”

Before I could say more, Hotch called for us to regroup, and we had no choice but to drop the conversation.

Hours later, I found Spencer in the precinct’s break room, staring at a file but clearly not reading it.

“Spence,” I said softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up, his expression softening slightly when he saw me. “Hey.”

I closed the door behind me, leaning against it. “About earlier…”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said quickly, though his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the file. “It’s none of my business.”

“Actually, it kind of is,” I said, stepping closer to him. “You’re my friend, and if something bothers you, I want to know.”

He let out a breath, setting the file down. “I just… I didn’t like the way he was talking to you. It made me—” He stopped, his cheeks flushing slightly as he searched for the right word.

“Jealous?” I offered, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.

His eyes darted to mine, wide and uncertain. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly.

I smiled, my heart softening at his vulnerability. “Spence, you don’t have to be jealous. Kyle means nothing to me. But you…” I hesitated, the words hanging in the air between us.

“Me?” he prompted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes Spencer, how could you not know what...". Footsteps interrupted our moment. "We'll talk later", I said in a hushed tone, just as an Officer came around the corner.

---

The precinct was quiet now, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Most of the officers had called it a night, and the rest of the BAU team had dispersed to their rooms. But Spencer and I lingered, the weight of the case and the events of the day still hanging between us.

I leaned back against the edge of the desk, pretending to go over some notes, but my mind kept drifting to Spencer. More specifically, to the way he’d stiffened earlier when Officer Ryan had approached me. The man had been nice enough, polite and professional, but his compliments had been a little too pointed, his interest a little too obvious. And Spencer had noticed.

I glanced over at him now, sitting stiffly in his chair, his eyes fixed on the file in his hands. He was still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. Normally, he had a way of blending into the background, but tonight, he seemed larger than life.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

His eyes flicked up to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw and unguarded in his expression. But then he blinked, and it was gone. “Just thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but distant.

“About the case?” I pressed, though I had a feeling that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Among other things,” he said vaguely, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the file.

I raised an eyebrow, setting my notes aside. “You know, for someone who spends most of his time analyzing other people, you’re not very good at hiding your own emotions.”

His jaw tensed slightly, and he looked away. “I’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Spencer.” I stood and crossed the room, stopping just in front of him. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated, his gaze darting to mine before dropping to the floor. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he let out a long breath, setting the file down on the desk.

“It’s nothing,” he said, though his tone betrayed him. “I just… didn’t like the way that officer was talking to you earlier.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “The Officer?”

He nodded, his expression tight. “He was too familiar. Too… interested.”

I tilted my head, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. “So you are really jealous, Dr. Reid?”

His eyes shot up to meet mine, wide and defensive. “What? No. I mean…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe a little. But it’s not—”

“Why would you be jealous?” I interrupted, stepping closer. My voice softened, my teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “It’s not like there’s anything between us, right?”

His breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to decide whether to step forward or step back. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady.

“Because I don’t want anyone else to have you,” he said simply.

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, sending a shiver down my spine. “Spencer…”

“I know I don’t have the right to feel this way,” he continued, his gaze never leaving mine. “But the thought of someone else—of him—thinking he has a chance with you…” He shook his head, his voice trembling slightly. “It drives me crazy.”

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “You’re an idiot,” I said, though my voice was soft, almost tender.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

I stepped closer, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’re an idiot if you think I’d want anyone else,” I said, my voice firm but laced with emotion. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for months, Spencer. And now, you’re going to sit here and tell me you’re jealous of some random guy?”

His breath caught, his eyes searching mine. “You’ve been waiting for me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” I said, my tone leaving no room for doubt.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, the unspoken emotions between us threatening to spill over. And then, finally, he closed the distance between us.

His hands cupped my face as his lips crashed into mine, the kiss both tender and desperate. I gasped, my hands finding their way to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt as I pulled him closer.

He groaned softly against my lips, his hands sliding down to my waist as he deepened the kiss. There was nothing hesitant or uncertain about the way he kissed me—it was raw and consuming, like he’d been holding back for far too long.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his eyes meeting mine. “Scared that I’d ruin everything. Scared that you didn’t feel the same way.”

I smiled, my fingers brushing against his jaw. “Well, you don’t have to be scared anymore,” I said softly.

He smiled back, that shy, boyish smile that made my heart ache. “I guess not,” he said, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

I brushed my thumb against his jaw, marveling at the way his face softened under my touch.

The silence between us wasn’t heavy anymore; it was charged, humming with unspoken words and simmering tension. His hands lingered on my waist, his fingers twitching slightly, like he was afraid to let go.

“Come with me,” I said softly, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.

His brows furrowed slightly, the question clear in his eyes. “Where?”

I swallowed, feeling my pulse quicken. “To my room. I… I don’t want this moment to end here.”

For a second, I thought he might hesitate. But then his grip on my waist tightened slightly, his gaze searching mine. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something I couldn’t quite name but felt all the way to my core.

We left the precinct quietly, the night air cool against my flushed skin as we walked to the hotel. The anticipation was palpable, each step drawing us closer to something we couldn’t take back but didn’t want to.

By the time we reached my door, my hands were trembling slightly as I slid the keycard into the lock. Spencer was so close behind me that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the subtle scent of his cologne making my head spin.

The door clicked open, and I stepped inside, turning to face him as he followed me in. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow across the room, but all I could focus on was him—the way his tie was slightly askew, the way his hair was just a little messier than usual.

He stood there for a moment, his eyes taking me in as if he were committing every detail to memory. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

I stepped closer, reaching up to loosen his tie. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said, my voice firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

His breath hitched slightly as I slid the tie from his collar, letting it fall to the floor. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands finding my waist again.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his gaze intense. “I’ve been thinking it for months. You’re brilliant and strong and so beautiful it hurts sometimes.”

The raw honesty in his voice took my breath away. I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair as I pulled him down into another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world to explore the unspoken emotions between us.

His hands roamed up my back, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss. My heart was pounding, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my forehead resting against his as I tried to steady myself. “Spencer…” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, his hands sliding down to my hips. “You’re safe with me.”

I smiled, my heart swelling at his words. “I know.”

His breath mingled with mine as we stood in the dim glow of the hotel room, the air thick with everything we hadn’t said. Spencer’s hands hovered at my waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of my shirt like he was trying to memorize the texture.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, “and I will.”

I tilted my head up, brushing my lips against his. “I won’t.”

That was all it took. His lips were on mine again, hungry and desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. I gasped against his mouth, my hands finding their way to his hair, tugging gently as I deepened the kiss.

Spencer groaned softly, the sound reverberating through me, and I felt his hands move lower, tracing the curve of my waist with a reverence that made my knees weak. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with awe.

I smiled against his lips, my fingers trailing down the buttons of his shirt. “You’ve mentioned that,” I teased, though my voice trembled slightly.

He chuckled, the sound low and breathless, before catching my lips again. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying it,” he admitted, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt to rest against my bare skin.

The heat of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped me. “Spencer…”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and filled with emotion. “I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re everything, you know that?”

I swallowed hard, my heart swelling at his words. “Show me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips were back on mine, more urgent this time, as he guided me toward the bed. The backs of my knees hit the edge, and I fell back, pulling him down with me.

His weight settled over me, grounding me, and I felt his hands move to my hips, his thumbs brushing against the sliver of skin exposed by my shirt. Every touch, every kiss was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every moment.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with both desire and hesitation.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “More than okay,” I murmured, pulling him down into another kiss.

The rest of the world faded away as we lost ourselves in each other, the unspoken tension between us finally giving way to something deeper, something undeniable. Every kiss, every touch was a silent promise—a vow that this was just the beginning of something neither of us could walk away from.

When we finally lay tangled together in the soft glow of the room, his fingers brushing gently against my arm, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t known I’d been missing.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain.

“Told me what?” I asked, tilting my head up to look at him.

“How much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “How much I care about you.”

I smiled, my chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “I think I got the message,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

He laughed quietly, his arms tightening around me. “I just don’t want you to ever doubt it,” he said, his voice serious.

“I won’t,” I promised, resting my head against his chest.

As the night stretched on, we talked in hushed tones, sharing secrets and fears we’d kept locked away. And when we finally fell asleep, tangled together in the soft glow of the room, it wasn’t just with the warmth of his arms around me but with the knowledge that this was only the beginning

[demonic0angel]

Jason has to be cursed. For weeks now, he's been trying to set up a cute met with a pretty girl he met as Red Hood. Every attempt has had something go wrong, from his bike getting a flat tire to missing her at her favorite coffee shop by a few minutes.

The Dannies are livid. Some creep is trying to firt with their sister. Their doing everything they can to keep him away from her.

Jason groaned. Another coffee spilled on him. He didn't even know how it happened. His hand just seemed to move on its own and pour his coffee all over himself. Thank goodness he had made sure his coffee was cool before he started drinking, since this had been happening all too often.

He glared at his feet, ignoring the glances he received at the coffee that was staining his clothes.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then started walking to the beautiful girl he saw again.

He didn't know much about her. Only that she liked her drinks milky but not too sweet, she liked her pastries to be warm and chocolatey, she read nonfiction books at the cafe (like an adorable psychopath), she listened to a variety of music like classical and pop, and she was tall, kind, beautiful, and was named Jazz.

He probably could've found more if he wanted, but then where was the thrill? He wanted to know her personally, hearing about her from her own lips.

He was quickly thrown out of his thoughts when something tripped him and he slammed head first into a pole. He yelped, dropping to his knees as he cringed away from the sudden ringing pain on his forehead. Something slick began to drip down his face and Jason cursed, gingerly touching his forehead, where the pole had split open his skin.

There were cries of panic all around but no one helped. Jason grit his teeth, struggling to get up as his vision spun and his face flushed with heat and embarrassment.

"You there! Call the ambulance, please! Sir, are you alright?" An angelic voice asked. Something knelt before him, dark jeans and long, red hair scattering over the ground before hands gently reached for him.

Jason blinked and stared at Jazz, who was smiling at him kindly. "Will you let me help you?" She asked sweetly, her voice like a heavenly choir.

Jason turned red again and nodded. She gently patted the blood away with a couple of napkins from her purse and as the crowd lingered around and murmured, she asked, "Do you want to go to the hospital? Or is somewhere else fine? Will you be okay with going to my apartment? I have medical supplies there, since I'm a somewhat of a doctor."

"Your apartment, please," Jason breathed, suddenly feeling like god was taking pity on him and finally showing him some blessings.

Jazz smiled at him and said, "Okay. C'mon, I'll help you there." She talked a little more to the crowd, something about canceling the ambulance and thanking them for help and asking them to move on. There were several people who praised her and a lot of people lingered, but they all moved to the side like a parted sea as Jazz helped Jason to his feet and steadied him.

God, she was so fucking cool. Jason almost wanted to cry. His head still hurt, but Jazz was pressed against him and now he was able to go to her apartment and hopefully, he could ask her out now.

Yes, everything was perfect.

Danny, who was being glared into submission by Jazz over Jason's shoulder, winced and tried not to look at Jason's bleeding (but also annoyingly blissful) face as he floated behind the two.

Damn it all. Everything was ruined.

[laurentpark]

don’t tell my boyfriend! — [16] glow

synopsis. where jimin stalks her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend after a certain incident happened and couldn’t help but grow hatred over her. coincidentally, her and jimin happen to be global ambassadors of the same famous luxury brand and have to work together for a commercial. at first, jimin despised the girl with all her flesh and bones but soon understands why her boyfriend fell for the young actress in the first place… because she was starting to fall for the young actress as well.

warning: slightly suggestive.

the cameras have finally stopped rolling for the last time, and the energy on set is electric with relief. the crew is scattered across the studio, laughing, packing up equipment, and exchanging congratulations on a job well done. the commercial that had taken weeks to shoot is officially complete.

but feels none of the relief that seems to flood the room. instead, there’s an odd tightness in her chest, a strange mix of restlessness and dread that she can’t quite shake.

because this is it. the last day. the last time she’ll share the same space with y/n like this.

the thought twists in her gut.

she slips away from the crowd, heels clicking softly against the polished concrete floor as she steps into one of the quieter corners of the studio. the lounge area is empty now, the warm, ambient lighting casting long shadows on the plush couches and glass coffee table.

jimin sinks onto one of the couches, kicking off her heels and rubbing her aching feet. the silence here feels almost deafening compared to the noise outside, but it’s exactly what she needs.

or so she thinks.

“hiding out?”

her head snaps up, and there she is—y/n, standing in the doorway, framed by the glow of the studio lights behind her. she’s still in her givenchy outfit, the crisp fabric hugging her frame in all the right ways. her hair is slightly tousled, her makeup worn just enough to soften the sharp edges of her beauty.

jimin swallows hard and forces herself to look away, pretending to fuss with the strap of her heel. “not hiding. just… taking a break.”

y/n steps inside, the sound of her footsteps light against the carpeted floor. “thought i’d find you here. you’ve been avoiding the crowd all day.”

“just not in the mood for the whole ‘congratulations, we made it’ thing,” jimin replies, her voice light but clipped.

y/n hums, setting a takeaway cup of iced americano on the table in front of jimin. “here. figured you could use it.”

jimin raises an eyebrow, picking up the cup. “are you trying to butter me up for something?”

y/n smirks, settling onto the couch across from her. “what would i even have to butter you up for? you killed it today.”

jimin takes a sip, letting the bitterness of the coffee ground her. “guess i’ll find out soon enough.”

silence stretches between them for a moment, broken only by the distant hum of voices and equipment being packed up. jimin keeps her gaze fixed on her drink, but she can feel y/n’s eyes on her, watching her with that quiet intensity that always sets her on edge.

finally, y/n speaks, her tone softer now. “so… this is it, huh?”

jimin glances up, frowning. “what do you mean?”

“last day,” y/n says simply, leaning back against the couch. “no more shoots, no more meetings. we won’t be working together anymore after today.”

jimin’s stomach sinks. she knew this already, of course. but hearing y/n say it out loud makes it feel too real.

“you’re really just going to leave like that?” jimin says, her voice sharper than she intended.

y/n tilts her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “what do you mean, like that? we’ve wrapped the project. there’s no reason for me to stick around.”

jimin sits up straighter, her brow furrowing. “no reason?”

y/n raises an eyebrow. “what’s this about, jimin?”

jimin opens her mouth, ready to deflect with some quip or excuse, but the words catch in her throat. instead, she finds herself blurting out something else entirely.

“i know about you and jaewook.”

y/n freezes. her expression doesn’t betray much, but jimin catches the brief flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“oh,” y/n says quietly.

“yeah,” jimin replies, crossing her arms. “oh.”

y/n exhales, leaning forward slightly. “so you know. okay. and?”

jimin narrows her eyes. “and? you didn’t think it was worth mentioning that you used to date my boyfriend?”

“no,” y/n says simply, her tone calm but firm. “because it didn’t feel relevant. i’m not the one still involved with him. you are.”

the bluntness of her words stings, but jimin doesn’t back down. “so you thought it was fine to just… hang out with me? knowing how complicated this is?”

y/n shrugs, holding jimin’s gaze. “you’re the one who agreed to lunch, jimin. and if i’m being honest… i just wanted to get to know you.”

jimin blinks, caught off guard. “why?”

a faint smile plays on y/n’s lips. “because you’re interesting. and maybe because… you’re kind of hard to ignore.”

jimin feels her heart stutter, heat rising in her chest. she hates how easily y/n can disarm her like this, how her calm confidence always seems to tilt the balance of power between them.

“you’re unbelievable,” jimin mutters, though her voice lacks conviction.

y/n leans back, crossing her legs. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

jimin lets out a shaky laugh, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are,” y/n replies, her tone light but pointed.

the tension between them is almost suffocating now, the air heavy with everything unsaid. jimin glances at the door, making sure it’s still closed before standing up and taking a steps closer to y/n.

“you’re really just going to leave without saying you’ll miss me?” jimin asks, her voice low and teasing.

y/n stares at her, startled. “what?”

jimin doesn’t give her a chance to respond. she leans in, her lips brushing against y/n’s in a kiss that’s soft but deliberate, lingering just long enough to leave no room for misinterpretation.

the kiss was soft but firm. jimin’s lips moved gently against y/n’s as though she was savoring the moment. the actress could feel the heat of jimin’s body pressed against her own, the way her fingers dug into the curve of her hip as if trying to hold her as close as possible.

suddenly, jimin’s hand was on her jaw. tilting her head up slightly to deepen the kiss. the feeling of her tongue slipping inside of her mouth was intoxicating, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine and eliciting a soft gasp from her.

when jimin pulls back, her voice is barely above a whisper. “don’t tell jaewook.”

y/n’s eyes widen, her expression a mix of shock and something else jimin can’t quite name.

“don’t tell my boyfriend.” the idol repeats, her voice now becoming pleading. her hand was still on y/n’s hip, her thumb absentmindedly tracing small, circular motions on the skin exposed there. there was a certain wicked gleam in her eyes, a mischievous glimmer that sent shivers down y/n's spine.

y/n swallows hard, her breath shaky as she takes a small step back. “you’re playing a dangerous game, jimin.”

jimin tilts her head, her smirk unwavering. “maybe. but didn’t you say i killed it today?”

y/n exhales, shaking her head with a mix of disbelief and something else jimin doesn’t dare name. “you’re impossible.”

time seems to blur after that—quiet laughs, stolen touches, and a closeness jimin can’t bring herself to pull away from. by the time they step out of the room, the rest of the crew is still bustling around, oblivious to what just happened behind closed doors.

as they walk side by side toward the exit, one of the crew members glances up and tilts their head. “you’re both glowing more than usual today. did something happen?”

jimin and y/n exchange a glance, their expressions carefully neutral.

“must be the lighting,” jimin says smoothly, her lips twitching into a small, knowing smile.

y/n bites back a laugh, nudging jimin’s shoulder as they continue walking, their secret safely tucked away—for now.

prev. next. masterlist

tags. @xen248 @szooo @yunalvrrr @yeetaberry127 @lisaswifey @gtfoiydlyj j @c-yerim @jeindall777 @multiliker @hyejin67 @cwpiqwon @sunshinez4 @yoontoonwhs @wintersgff @womanl0ver @sixflame438 @rinapomu @ahnneyong @syronns @yukianism @winieter @inybits @nctislifue @pandafuriosa60 @peranoo @ajjilhan

[saymio]

Guns Aren't Toys

Pairing: Kang No-eul (guard 011) x Fem!reader

Summary: noeul loves you, she truly does. she wants to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and all hers. so when you try to gain some independence from her....she decides its time to scare you into being hers forever.

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, gun play, carving/knife play, blood kink, dubcon, light bdsm (tying you to a bed), noeul is giving heavy yandere vibes, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. english isn't my first language and I haven't written in so long, I'm sorry if its bad (MDNI)

6k Words

...

you befriended noeul not long after the games ended, at first you had no idea what she did..or who she even was. you didn't know where she came from, where she worked, you didn't even know her exact age. but nonetheless something about her compelled you to her. maybe it was the way she carried herself..she stayed lowkey but wasnt a pushover. or how cool and attractive she was...it always seemed like she knew what she was doing. whether it was something small like cooking an egg or folding clothes...she seemed so knowledgeable and aware of everything around her. to you noeul was your dream girl, she was so mysterious but also so interesting...so quiet but so compelling...

she was a regular at the coffee shop you used to work at. always ordering the same thing, a black coffee with no sugar. it fit her..sleek and to the point. she quickly became part of your daily routine... check out the hot older woman that would pass by everyday... but suddenly in the middle of the summer she stopped appearing at the coffee shop. at the time, you knew nothing about the woman, less than when you finally became her friend. only her face, coffee order and where she always sat. at the left corner of the cafe, she always seemed to ponder about something. she didn't look distressed when she would but.. she didn't look calm either. you wondered if she was on a vacation.. you hoped she was. you were getting nervous about the idea that she moved out of the city, she wouldn't leave just like that right? she'd be back, right?

days and days have passed and still no sign of noeul. you started to give up on the idea that she would be back, its been a week since she left and summer was nearing its end... it made you sulk and pout at the thought, not even getting the chance to have a real conversation with her... what a bu- ding..ding the sound of the door cut you away from your thoughts, at first you didn't even realize. maybe its been so long and your memory has started to get hazy, or you were just so tired you didn't bother to look at their face that much... but once she was Infront of you..you realized.. shes back!

"one black coffee with no sugar please." her monotone voice sounded like an angel just sung to you. you didn't even know her but god did you miss her sexy face. "you're back" you stared at her with soft eyes and a smile as you handed her the change from her drink. you didn't notice then but it caught her off guard. someone had noticed she was gone..were they welcoming her back? did they want to know why she was gone? why'd they even care..she didn't know them like that....but it still made a small part of her heart beat a little bit faster... "what happened to your cheek?" you were getting out your comfort zone, you were usually timid and too anxious to attempt small talk to a customer. especially one as attractive as the one standing Infront of your eyes. "nothing. thank you for the coffee." she rubbed her right cheek and walked off...usually youd leave it at that. you wouldn't interact with her again because it was clear she wasn't interested in your small talk.. but... what if she disappeared again? and what if this time she never came back? you didn't want to risk fumbling someone as perfect as her. the epitome of a seemingly perfect woman... you looked around the shop, making sure the coworker that never showed up that day didn't randomly appear...and making sure there wasnt any customer on their way inside. you slipped your apron off and slowly made your way to the corner noeul always sat at. "a..ahem...can I sit here...?" clearly nervous you shuffled with your fingers, looking away as to not make eye contact with her...it'd probably make things 10x more embarrassing if she said no. "yeah, you can" ... and with that the two of you formed a friendship that only grew as days passed. not knowing what kind of future awaited the two of you.

timeskip

its been around 2 years since the two of you met and well, you're both dating now. and have been for the past year.. you obviously know more about noeul now but shes still as mysterious as ever, you think its attractive though. and it seems a lot of her background is touchy so you don't push on it...shes only mentioned that she isn't from south korea once and that's about all you've gotten surrounding that...but what isn't attractive to you is how controlling shes been lately. at first you though it was cute. she wouldnt let you go out alone for too long or befriend anyone new without her knowing when you first started dating. that was pretty normal for a girl that had her strange tendencies, right?. what isn't normal is how she made you quit your job so you could be 'safe' at home. she wont allow you to be out alone at all. she doesnt even let you have any social media account..you were banned from all of it. you have to ask her to do everything if you can shower, watch TV, if you can eat. and its really starting to scare you. she put a lock on the bedroom door from the outside, and only she had the key. so you cant go anywhere when you two sleep unless you wake her up for permission. you never even realized how bad its gotten until it was too late. you were wearing rose tinted glasses, not letting yourself see how toxic shes gotten. and now that you've taken them off, you're far too deep in the rabbit hole to just climb your way out. she waits for you outside the bathroom, she doesn't let you lock any doors, you cant even be in a different room from her for more than 10 minutes before she barges in. the only time you truly feel safe and alone is when she leaves for around a week every summer.

youre nearing your 2 year anniversary with her. you'd be ecstatic if it weren't for the fact shes basically taken over your entire life. if it was bad 1 year in, it's horrible now. you can barely even breath without her staring holes into your face. you feel trapped and you're starting to regret ever approaching her that day. what happened to the noeul that was calm and well kept? the one that would help you with your uni work and tell you small stories about her life as a 19 year old. stories she thinks you can relate to since you're the same age. what happened to the noeul that would laugh at the jokes you'd make of her age. not minding it when you'd call her old because she knew you loved her age. now even mention it and she 'calmly' asks you "isn't this what you wanted? an older woman to slut you out?" normally your panties would've been soaked and you'd just ask her to eat you out at that moment but it feels so aggressive.. you're on edge around her, you don't want to make her upset... but you can never tell when you have because of her stoic face. she never seems to break the calm facial expressions she always has. either a smile or just no readable expression at all...

but there is good news, news that could maybe get you out of this mess. you were scared of her, not only that but you had no money. she was the one taking care of the both of you... so what if...you got a job? if you applied and they accepted you no way she would just force you to quit right? and maybe..maybe she'd change...so you wouldn't need to use the money to buy a small apartment for yourself

...

"I'm going now." noeul stares at you with a soft expression, one that will always melt your heart no matter what has happened between the two of you. "okay baby, please stay safe. I love you" you run into her arms, hugging her tightly before getting onto your tippy toes to give her a loving kiss. even though you're scared of her, scared of what she might do in the future...you still love her. with your entire life, and you really do mean it when you say it. her cold hands cup your face as she kisses your forehead. her soft lips leaving a warm feeling not only on your head but in your heart too. "here.." she pulls her right hand from her pocket, showing 2 silver keys and a small phone. ones for the front door, and the other is for all the other rooms in your apartment. "you already know the rules, right doll?" you hesitantly nodded as your smaller hands grabbed the two keys and phone from hers. "I'll still repeat them incase you forgot one. you arent allowed to leave the house unless you need to buy food, you cant stay up past 8pm, the phone is only for important calls, and you cannot talk to anyone. no one at all... you understand princess?" you nod your head slowly, looking up at noeul as she smiles. her smile isn't that genuine though. its more of a cold, forced smile... maybe one that's supposed to intimidate you into obeying her rules... but you already have a plan. and that plan breaks all those rules.... "I'll be back in a week like always, I love you. okay y/n?" she kisses you once more before leaving the space you two were once in, filling it with silence before you heard the soft click of the door closing.. you knew exactly what you needed to do now, you need to escape the tight grip she has on your life.

its been a day since noeul left to go do her weird murdered job. you know about the games but it doesnt phase you too much. not even when you first heard about it. you even thought it was a little thrilling.. your girlfriend kills people for money...shes scary..scary and hot. not only that but you were so in love you didn't even care. maybe she knew that. maybe that's why she told you, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger. but you were different now, you took off the glasses that diluted the world. you were facing it head on it with the hard truth. you love noeul with all your heart but...you don't want to be in a relationship where you're scared for your...life

you were so distracted in your thoughts you didnt even realize you walked past the store you wanted to apply to work at. the coffee shop you met noeul at .. where you found love.. you walked a couple steps back before you faced the brown and green door, the one you would see every day in the morning and night.. ding ding the sound of the door opening rang in your ears, the same sound as always. you should be happy at this moment, you're going to apply for a job.. you'll be able to escape noeuls crazy controlling life style... you should be happy...but why weren't you. you felt nothing but dread walking into that store. your stomach was doing flips, your palms were getting sweaty and you felt your heart beating outside your chest. thoughts started to flood your head as you stood there inside the cafe, like your feet were glued to the ground. .....but- noeul..I shouldn't do this. I'm breaking her trust. she trusts me I- but I need to get away..shes scary...but but but..... "y/n?" the familiar voice cut you away from your thoughts..you looked up and it was the lady you used to always work with. she was only a few years older than you but she was always the more childish one between the two. the both of you shared the same shift and you weren't friends but you were.. close strangers maybe? "a- minyoung... hello" you bowed awkwardly. not wanting to be rude but also not trying to come off as too respectful "y/n, hi! I thought I'd never see you again after you quit haha.." she joked, a little unsure but she has the compassion. "uh..are you here to apply for work?" she stared at you, anticipating your answer.. it felt like the same eyes you were giving noeul when she came back to the shop that day.. waiting for her to say yes to you. 'yeah I am..can I?" min young softly smiled at you and nodded. as if welcoming you back to the cafe. you felt a pang in your chest, like your heart was telling you no. to just listen to noeul and you'd be safe. but you had a feeling that wasnt true. you wanted to do your own things even if it meant leaving the woman you loved most. because at this point, you dont even recognize her

it didn't take long for you to get accepted..like at all. when you got home from the cafe you saw you already had a text message. "hello y/n, I'm pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted. thank you for applying. you come into work starting tomorrow :)" it was honestly no surprise to you that they accepted your work application so quickly. not to sound cocky but you were undoubtedly the best worker they had, if someone didn't show up you'd come in their space, you wouldn't flirt with customers you made the coffee perfectly, you'd clean up the cafe before closing the store up, you never made mistakes. and it was even more impressive when your coworkers almost always didn't show up or do anything..other than minyoung. you smiled to yourself, was this truly the start of a new life? were you finally going to be free from noeuls grasp? you still felt sad, like you were breaking the trust she had in you but...you just wanted to be free...and maybe...maybe this could change her mind and she'd be less strict with you. it could go back to when you first started dating..she wouldnt control every aspect of your life. that's all you wanted right now.

you were losing track of how many days you'd been working. not paying attention to if noeul overstayed her work trip, or if it was even the day she was coming back. you were just happy to finally be back at work, with minyoung. the two of you were a lot closer now..closer than before. you two again shared the same schedule. right now she was drawing on the palm of your hand, you had no idea what it was but you were holding in your giggle and trying your best to stay still since the pen was tickling your palm. it seemed as if she drew a cat and was drawing numbers, you weren't really paying attention now though. you were staring outside the window..looking at the now setting sun. minyoung would drive you home everyday, your shift didn't end until it was dark and she didn't want anything to happen to you.. but you suddenly felt a strong sense of dread, like something bad was going to happen...and it was going to happen quick. "uhh..minyoung" you spoke with an obvious edge to your voice, it was almost shaky with nervousness. but it seemed she didn't pick up on that as she only hummed at you and stayed focused on your palm. "do you feel nervous too? I dont know...I just feel scared right now" minyoung stared up at you confused and worried.. "huh? I dont feel it..no.. do you want to go home early? maybe you're sick" you shook your head no and stares down at your palm, the ink started to smear a little. your palms were getting sweaty..you were only getting more nervous.. before you could mutter another word the cafe door flung open, a loud bang over powering the ding the door usually made when opened. you and minyoung flinched and jumped back as you stared at the person there. it was noeul..she clearly ran her way here on foot..you had no idea from where but she was gasping and sweat lined her forehead..not only was she sweating but a scowl covered her face. she was angry...and she was angry at you. minyoung leaned into your ear and quickly whispered something... "isn't that the lady that used to always come by? sh-" noeul loudly interrupted your coworker, the loudness of her voice startled you both. it was like there was a megaphone connected inside her throat.. "y/n. come here. now." she stood right in front of the cafe door, you were stunned. you didn't know what to do. it was like your mind was focused on only noeul because for a bit you forgot minyoung was even there. "don't make me ask again, doll." her voice was stern but gentle. it wasn't loud and upset like just a moment ago...but you were still scared of her...of what she'd do.. you gulped down the lump forming in your throat and took off your apron. you opened the small door that separated the baristas and the customers, with a light click it was free... you slowly walked towards noeul, you were anxious..and nervous. she wouldnt do anything to you right? especially not Infront of someone else.. you were now facing her, her sharp features stared at you like daggers. her seemingly dark soulless eyes only made you shake harder..you were terrified. "noeul i-" before you could even muster the rest of your sentence she gripped at your hair and pulled you out of the store. you shrieked and clawed at the hand that griped at your hair but it was no use..noeul was a lot stronger than you and you knew now that you messed up..big time. "p-please noeul stop AH! please please stop noeul that hurts that hurts it hurts please!" your pleas fell on deaf ears as she only dragged you down the street before stopping infront of a taxi. "take us to ----- please" you were blacking out, your head was fuzzy. you didn't know what to do you were so scared. you never thought noeul would actually hurt you, but she was. she was hurting you. and it hurt...alot... the man stared at noeul and at you, wary of letting a potential kidnapper inside his car. "this is just a kink of ours. don't worry" he stares at you waiting for any kind of response...you didn't know what to do...so you just nodded.. noeul opened the taxi door and pushed you inside.

just as noeul was moving her way inside the car you heard someone yelling your name..it was minyoung...she was running down the street frantically waving her hands at the taxi driver, trying her best to get him to not go so she could save (?) you from noeul. but it didn't work.. "go, I'll pay you more if you get us there quickly." noeuls deadpan voice only sent shivers down your spine, she was so calm. even when she was basically kidnapping you. "yes ma'am." and like that the car started and drove off, leaving minyoung there as she slumped down onto the ground..crying out of fear for you.

you were at the apartment you two shared, you were sitting on a chair at the dining table. occasionally shifting in your chair, causing it to creak under the pressure...youre only staring at your lap, refusing to stare at noeul. you're scared that if you do, youll fall into pieces in front of her...that's only an opening to getting taken advantage of. "why'd you try leaving me. why'd you break my rules. I told you clearly, but look at you now. do you know why I put up these rules?" right at the other end of the table sat noeul. her dark eyes drilling holes into your head, her voice was calm but irritated. all she wanted was for you to stay safe, so why. why dont you want to obey? "i-..I just want freedom..you're always behind me..supervising me like I'm some delicate child..I don't want it anymore" the two of you barely started speaking but you were already tearing up, you just want noeul to love you normally. you want your relationship to be normal. "y/n. you are a child. you are a helpless child. you're barely in your twenties. do you really think you can strive alone in this cruel world? you live comfortably with me because I take care of you. I keep you safe. you don't need freedom. you need safety and that's with me." her voice only got deeper and more aggressive. she was getting upset, just hearing you say you wanted to do your own things made her want to lock you inside your bedroom forever. "you're so naive y/n. you really think the world would be as nice as I've been to you? you're wrong. you wont survive without me and you know it. stop trying to be independent because we both know you'd be dead without me." tears started to stream down your plush cheeks, your nose was getting runny and your voice was getting shaky. you felt your throat close up, you felt like you couldn't speak. you didn't know what to do. "i-..I just want to be free..i- dont feel safe around you i-" a loud bang filled the small living room the both of you were sat in. noeul had slammed her hand onto the table, startling you and making you jump. this just caused you to cry harder. you were just scared, you were scared of her. you just wanted to dig a hole in the ground and hide. "scared of me? you? you're scared of me? who approached me first? who told me she liked me first? who make the first moves? it was all you y/n. you did everything. it's you're fault you're with me and now you have to deal with it. cant you just realize I'm keeping you safe? you were born to be mine. why cant you just let it process in your brain?" aa..there it was. she had a habit of turning things and pinning it onto you. you were tired of it, you were tired of this. "you always end up blaming me! why am I always wrong? why cant you just admit what you're doing is wrong! I cant even breath without you staring me down! I'd just be better off without you...not living in fear.." you sobbed into your hands, you were shaking and crying. was this a break up? were you breaking up? noeul hasn't said anything, she wasn't even moved..so maybe it was... but what you didn't know, those words to noeul were like stab into her heart. if you thought you were better off without her. then she had to show you that you truly weren't. youre nothing but a lost puppy without her... you wiped your salty tears with your sleeves, you eyes felt puffy and you were tired..maybe you'd just sleep in an alley way tonight and figure the rest out later...you got up slowly, and made your way to the front door...you were going to leave..you were doing it..you were free from her grasp.. just as your soft hands touched the cold door knob you felt something hard hit you in the back of the head...and before you knew it you fell to the floor and blacked out.

you woke up gasping for air, you were hyperventilating.. gasping loudly and uncontrollably, looking around and all you saw was darkness you couldn't see anything. you tried to get up and you felt your hands being tied down...you were handcuffed to the bed.. you started freaking out, crying as you tried to calm yourself down. "noeul..please...I'm sorry.." your words were barely over a whisper, you choked out quiet sobs as you just let yourself lay there. you had no way out. and you're slowly starting to realize this... click noeul turned on one of the bedroom lights, giving it enough light for you to look around. but not enough to light up the whole room. "princess..." your eyes snapped up, staring at the figure in front of your bed...lean and tall..it was noeul.. the shadows of her face making her features even sharper than before. she was like a wood carving..every detail was meticulously carved and shaped... "n-noeul..please..I'm sorry.. let me go.." tears staining the collar of your sweater, you stared up at her. desperate for her help. "nope." she deadpanned, but her face wasn't stoic. she was smiling..the same smile she gave you before she left for her job. it wasn't genuine. it was sinister..and intimidating. "who was that girl? the one that chased after you when we left. was that your new girlfriend? is she why you're trying to leave me?" your eyes widen as you shake your head frantically. the last thing you want her to assume you're doing is cheating..especially right now. "n-no I'm not close to her like that! shes just my old co worker.. she isn't even my friend..." you gulp, your throat feels dry and your head is getting fuzzy. she believes you right? she'll let you go once she realizes you're telling the truth.. right? her icecold face feels like its burning you, you cant tell what shes thinking. and it scares you shitless. "yeah. so is that why she wrote her number on your hand? or are you gonna keep acting stupid." wait..what? you stared at her with genuine confusion, unsure what she was talking about. and its not like you could stare at your hand to check..and she caught on your confusion. she knows how you act. you've been together for 2 years now..she knows you. "she wrote her number on your hand. I guess you didn't know though...why would you let someone else touch you though. or speak to you." you stared at her...you didn't know what to say...so you just looked away and stayed quiet. you didn't want to trigger her even more.. "I guess I'll just have to show you that you're mine. and mark you while I'm at it too.." she smiles, her eerie smile..as always... she turned around and walked towards a nightstand near the bed, she opened the top cabinet and took out two things that made your breath hitch in your throat. a knife and a barrel. you started to kick your feet and squirm under the restraints she put on you. you dont want to die...you don't want to die like this.. "don't worry doll, I wont you....I'll just..show you that you belong to me" he sets the gun down next to you before lifting your skirt and grazing the knife on your plush thighs. you started to cry, the feeling of the cold metal touching your skin was terrifying. what if she cuts deep? what if it gets infected? what if- your body jolts up at the stinging feeling that's overwhelming your right thigh. you cant look at it. you cant. but you can feel warm blood drip from your thigh and on to the blanket under you. youre shaking uncontrollably now..you don't know what to do..you cant do anything either way.. you stare down and watch her as she carefully moves the sharp knife on the skin of your thigh. your blood painting the knife red as she carves her name on your thigh.. KANG NO EUL the cuts are large, it takes up half your thigh...you can feel the stinging..it hurts...the blood...you feel dizzy... and if the fact noeul just carved her name onto you wasn't bad enough, her licking the blood off of you made it worse. "your blood tastes nice...i can only wonder how you taste. hm?... I already know ofcourse.. but I forgot already."

she smiled up at you, but her smile was different..not full of anger..but desire. maybe it was how her eyes looked. or the context of what just happened but..it made you feel some way. "a-are you done now..I'm scared..." noeul stares at you, a blank stare and leans down and licks ur cheek so slow that it makes you almost uncomfortable .. "youre so cute when you're scared. it makes me horny.. did you know that?" she gave you her infamous smile before quickly grabbing the gun next to you and pointing it at your head.. if you weren't scared before you definitely were now. "you wanna live, right baby?" you nodded like a madman, your eyes looking up at her. pleading with her for your life with just your eyes... but if noeul had a dick it'd be ripping through her pants right now, staring at you so vulnerable and scared..it makes her so horny. you're so weak..she needs to ruin you.. she tapped the tip of the gun onto your lips as she looked at you with a creepy wide grin, her soulless eyes scrunching up in the corner. "deep throat the gun and you'll live." what...w- you cant do that.. its a gun...guns aren't toys to mess around with..you...you don't want to.. "if you dont want to that's fine. ill just pull the trigger and leave you here dead. are you gonna be smart, or stupid y/n." you gulped down, your mouth was dry and you felt like you'd die of dehydration at any second. your lips quivered as you opened your mouth wide enough for noeul to push the gun into your mouth. you started to suck at the gun, occasionally gagging as noeul pushed the gun too far into your throat. your movements were limited as your arms were still chained onto the bed frame. wet noises filled the room and you sucked on the gun as if it were a dick. your spit dripping off your chin and the gun. "ffucck..if I knew how hot this would be before i wouldve made you do this ages ago.." your face started to heat up, your face pounding inside your chest as you stared at noeul. her breathing was getting heavy and uncoordinated... she was getting turned on. your mouth made wet slurping noises, you were doing good and haven't stopped..until you flinched and took the gun out of your mouth.. noeuls thumb sneaked under your skirt and had started to make circles around your clothed clit. you held in your noises but some snuck their way through. noeul looked up at you, face a bit flushed and stared at your mouth.. "who told you could take the barrel out of your mouth?" you flinched eyes zapped around the room, as if looking for someone who could potentially be looking at the two you before stuffing your mouth with the gun again. you started up at her with wide dilated pupils, your huge eyes now burning holes into her head. and God did she love it. your face was flushed red as you felt noeuls fingers slip your panties off, the cold air of the room hit your pussy as you shivered under the cold air. the stinging, the cold air, the metal of the gun.. all your senses are getting overwhelmed you don't even know what's happening. noeul takes the gun out of your mouth, giving you a chance to properly breathe. your rabid breaths and wet lips would drive any sane person insane. "fuck you're so sexy, js wanna ruin your body.." her other hand walked its way up your torso and your lips, she opened her mouth slightly..instructing you to do the same. you opened your mouth and let noeul shove 2 of her long fingers inside your mouth. the cold skin was a contrast to your warm wet mouth...you started to suck at them harshly, like you would die if you didn't. noeuls other hand started to rub your clit, causing you to shake and shiver under her touch... she was playing around with you, teasing you...until you finally felt two of her fingers go inside of you.. you moaned embarrassingly loud against her fingers as she moved her fingers in a rough pace. curling them, making a scissoring motion, plowing them in and out... it all hurt you, it felt like she was trying to split you in half.

your pussy made disgusting wet sounds, it was so loud it filled the room.. not only that but the sounds your mouth made as you were sucking on her other fingers made it considerably worse. "n-noeul ah- mh..fuck it hurts s-stop..." your words were a little muffled but the message still got out..it hurt and you didn't like that... noeul stared at you before slamming her fingers in and out of you insanely fast. it made you choke out a mix of a moan and screech because it just hurt so bad but also felt so so so good. noeul leaned down and was inches away from your face, her hot breath tickling your soft skin.. "you don't get to decide what I do to you. I'll ruin your body today and you wont be able to do shit about it." she grinned before taking her face away from yours. she shoved her fingers out of your mouth with a pop before slapping her hand hard against your tender cheek. leaving a red spot before rubbing the warm skin... "you understand?" her soft eyes stared into yours, you felt...weirdly safe? you couldn't pin point what you felt but it was nice.... "y..yeess ah- oh....noeul...fuck.." you arched your back against the bed, you felt yourself getting closer and closer..her fingers filling up your cunt as your juices dripped onto the blanket underneath you, some of it mixing with the now dried blood there too. "are you getting close baby?" her fingers goings faster and faster, at a speed you weren't sure was humanly possible. you nodded frantically, trying your best to grind onto her fingers even if you could barely move with the restraints tied to your wrist. "nope!"she gave a creepily happy expression before taking her fingers out of your cunt. "you don't really deserve it yet."

the two of you were at the dining table again, she had uncuffed you from the bed. and now you were sitting at the table you sat at only a few hours ago...your legs forced open, showing off for noeul. "you're so pretty...and delicate.." noeul got up from her chair and walked over to you grabbing the knife she used to cut your thigh. she traced it along your skin, making small patterns with it but never pressing hard enough to actually cut you. "you'd do anything for me right? you've realized how important I am to you right?" your voice feels shaking and sore, you don't know if you should say yes or no...but you had a feeling you'd die if you said no.. "y-yes mommy..i-..id do anything for you... m' entire world..." you looked up at her, you had no idea what was taking over you. you were just so fucking horny for her. you needed her so bad even if you were terrified. you raised your legs a little and used your fingers to spread your pussy for her. "u-use me up please..." she grinned at you, she stared at you like a proud mother... like the mother you never had.. "good girl..." she patted your head, like she was petting a stray dog she found off the side of the street...like you weren't nothing more than a little pet for her to use. "then fuck yourself with this gun." she reached her hand behind her, setting down the knife and grabbing the barrel that sat at the table. usually you'd be freaking out right now, squirming in your chair and pleading with her to just pick anything else but..you weren't. you were just so needy for her, you needed to make her proud. forgive you for being bad...and..its not like its much different compared to deep throating one right?

your slick juices covered the cold metal of the gun as you started to insert it in you. it was large and it felt a lot more..unique..than what you're used to.. you pumped it in and out of your cunt, it was making loud noises and you were moaning and gasping at the feeling...it felt surprisingly good...you wanted more..more..more...you shoved it deeper and deeper inside of your gummy hole until you just couldn't put more inside, you were grinding onto it. moaning and letting whines and whimpers escape your mouth. you stared up at noeul noticing her usually calm stoic face flushed and scrunching up. she was touching herself to you. rubbing her clit as she watched you fuck yourself with the gun shes used to kill a few people in her life..it was so thrilling...so fucking hot. "n-noeul..can I cum..please ah-.." you were gasping, squirming and panting. you wanted to cum...she didn't let you cum on her fingers and you were twitching with neediness. you wanted to release..you could feel it coming and you weren't sure if you could hold back any longer.. "y..yeah..go ahead sweet heart..cum for me..ffuuck.." based on her breathing and the shakiness in her tone..she was close too...you moved it in and out of your cunt, sticky wet liquids all over your inner thighs, gun and some on your hands...you need this..you needed to release you need to.. "a-aah aou..ahh~ mm..yes..yes...ou m cumming m cumahh~!" your loud voice echoed throughout the apartment. your back arching against the chain as you came all over the gun, it felt so good..so fucking good... "that was so hot y/n...fuck...I need more of you.. now."

...

Another note:was the ending too abrupt? sorry if it was fue fue T T n sorry if the story seems too rushed esp the ending...bc it was.. I haven't written in a while so,, sorry if most of this sucked or felt repetitive>.< ....

[gyaruhana]

this may be a bit random, but could you write something for Choi Wook-Seok (the guy who plays rock, paper, scissors, minus one + helps with the search)

I’ve seen nothing about him online at all but I really liked him (maybe I’m just delusional)

It would be amazing if you could do something where the reader was an ex coworker (or just a friend) of Jun Ho and gets pulled into the little take down mission from episode 2. There she meets Wook-Seok and he gets really flustered around her or something.

thank you so much and good work on all your fics

Woo-Seok - Flustered

Synopsis: Woo-seok thinks you're really pretty and gets quite shy

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post i've been drowning in requests!!

Warnings: none

“So, just to clarify, you want me to join you to kidnap some guy who is apparently hosting death games and killing hundreds of people yearly on an unknown island?” you speak as you look at Jun-ho. When your old friend texted you asking to meet, you thought he had wanted to go out for a coffee and catch up - not try to convince you to help him find some guy running some deadly game on an island he's been trying (and failing) to find for two years now.

“I know how it sounds but I’m not making this up,” he says as he looks at you with a serious look. Jun-ho was well aware that his story sounded like the words of a mad man but there was really no way to not sound crazy talking about something like this. He was hoping that you'd just trust him and agree to this because your help would be valuable to getting this done.

You could see the look on his face that showed he clearly wasn't joking around and was dead serious about needing your help with this. However, as much as you did want to help him, you weren’t a police detective anymore. You had quit long ago and taken up a different job that didn’t put you in any danger. Something like this could be seriously dangerous and result in the harm of a lot of people. You let out a sigh as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Jun-ho. As much as I want to help, you know I don’t do that stuff anymore. I left it behind me years ago,” you say as you look at him with an apologetic look. You weren’t confident that you could just jump back into work like this. After all, if he was telling the truth, this would be a lot more than just a simple kidnapping and arrest. It’d be an all-out war - the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Jun-ho understood where you were coming from but he didn’t want to give up on you. When you used to work together in the police department, you were an excellent detective. You had a talent and it was being wasted for things that didn’t matter. This mattered. “Just keep watch then. You don’t have to come with us inside. I just need the skill I know you have to help us,” He says as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You stayed quiet for a few moments as you just looked at him, analyzing him to figure out whether you should listen to him. Were you really going to join him on a mission to kidnap some potentially dangerous guy? You let out a sigh before looking off to the side with slight annoyance. You took a deep breath before looking at him again. “I’ll help,” you say and Jun-ho immediately smiles, glad to have you on his side. He trusted you with his life and he knew you would prove a great help.

He pats your shoulder twice before pulling his hand away. “Good. We're meeting here tomorrow,” he says as he hands you a small piece of paper with an address. You looked down at it and nodded your head slowly. “Time is valuable so be here early,” he adds as he puts his hands into his pockets. 

“Got it. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning,” you say as you shove the piece of paper into your pocket and look up at him. Jun-ho nods his head in approval before swiftly walking away and leaving you on your own to think. If Jun-ho hadn't been such a good ally when you worked in the force together, you would've never agreed to this wild goose chase. But, unfortunately, he had done you a favor one too many times so saying no was off the table.

You let out another sigh as you looked to the horizon and thought about what tomorrow might bring. 

“They better have guns,” 

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The next day, you arrived at the rather strange choice of a meet up place. It looked like a run down motel that offers its rooms for ridiculously cheap to those who couldn't afford anything better. You stare at it for a few moments before heading towards the door. When you went to open it, it didn't budge, so you looked around to see if there was something you could open it with.

Your eyes quickly landed on a camera watching you from above which you decide to wave at in hopes that the door would open for you. Thankfully, it did as you heard a buzz indicating it was now opened. You quickly walked in and began to climb the stairs to the correct floor written on the paper. You could hear the faint sounds of gunshots - something that made you more relaxed because thank god they do have guns in case this goes south.

When you arrived at the correct floor, you could already see Jun-ho waiting outside a room for you. He seemed anything but relaxed and you couldn't blame him. Something like this was a whole other level of dangerous. They pretty much only had one shot at getting this right or else it'd be all over. 

“This way. The rest of the team is in here,” Jun-ho speaks as he leads you down the hallway and into a room. When you walk in, the first thing you notice is the shit ton of won lying on a bed. Your eyes widen at the sight as Jun-ho leads you past into the bathroom which was filled with a shit ton of guns. You looked around the small bathroom in slight shock at how prepared they happened to be. You weren't going to ask where they got all these guns from but you could guess they were all illegally obtained from the black market. There was also a lot of ammo for the guns too. 

Finally, Jun-ho pushes back a blue curtain revealing a hole in the wall that led to a giant space which seemed like it used to be separate rooms before the walls were removed. There were three guys  shooting at the targets all the way on the back wall while three other guys stood behind them. They clearly meant business.

Woo-seok noticed the presence of Jun-ho and immediately looked at him. He had yet to notice you standing right behind Jun-ho. “These guys were in the marine corps!” he shouts out as he looks over at Gi-hun with wide eyes. He was rather impressed with himself for managing to make a team with professionals.

“These guys were in the UDT,” he shouts again while walking forward and gesturing to two other guys. “and these guys were in the ROK Special Forces,” he finishes as he gestures to the last two guys. “Oh, and this guy is just a former cop,” he says as he points at Jun-ho. 

“Me too,” you say, making Woo-seok snap his head towards you. He immediately froze up. He recalled Jun-ho saying that he'd bring an old coworker and friend but he didn't think that he'd bring someone as pretty as you. You had him rendered speechless so quickly and suddenly, he was very aware of the people looking at him. 

“This is my co-worker. I told you about her,” Jun-ho says as he steps back a little so you could have some space to reveal yourself. “She was great at her job when we worked together so she'll be a big help,” he adds. Gi-hun seems to nod his head before looking back at the men shooting but Woo-seok couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

“..Is there something on my face?” you ask as you rub your face once-over just in case. You didn't know what he was staring at you for but it was kind of endearing in an odd way. “no! Sorry. I'm Woo-seok,” he quickly introduced himself as he tried to calm down and not grin like an idiot. God, he could feel himself start to sweat.

“Glad to be on the same team,” you say as you hold your hand out for him to shake it. He quickly grabs your hand and shakes it vigorously, taking you by surprise at the suddenness and aggressiveness. “uhm- me too,” he stutters out before quickly pulling his hand back after realizing he was holding yours for a little too long. 

You stare at him with slight confusion as you couldn't tell what brought along this behavior. He seemed awfully sweaty all of a sudden and his face seemed to flush a reddish color. He could also barely get a word out without stuttering. Usually people only acted like when they had a crush-

Wait. Did he have a crush on you?? He certainly seemed to display all the signs of a potential crush. Maybe you could just ask. Would that be too straightforward? You didn't want to embarrass him, you just genuinely wanted to know if he liked you but asking him out right might be a little much.

“uh- so you used to be in the police department?” He questioned, making an attempt at small talk with you in hopes to hide how nervous he was. He really didn't want to give a bad first impression to a girl so pretty. You nodded your head and started to talk about it but he could barely focus. He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about him including his mannerisms. 

Was he smiling too much? Was his stance weird? Did you feel uncomfortable with him looking at you? His mind was too consumed by the thoughts of what you thought about him. He thought about making a joke but maybe you wouldn't find it funny at all and there would be an awkward silence. It was just too much for him to handle. He'd much like to disappear now just to avoid doing something embarrassing in front of you.

“..woo-seok?” You call out as you look at him weirdly. He seemed to be in his own world right now. Something was evidently stuck on his mind. You, probably. You could easily tell how he felt about you. You did use to work as a detective after all. Reading people is what you do. You sigh and shake your head at his nervous behavior before speaking up.

“If you like me, just ask me out,” you say, making his eyes widen as he snaps out of his trance. He looked at you in disbelief, not entirely sure that he actually heard you correctly. “What?” He says as he feels his heart race a million times faster than it had been previously.

“If you like me, ask me out,” you repeat seriously. You found his shyness quite cute honestly and you actually didn't think you'd be against the idea of going out with him. He really just seemed like a sweetheart.

“..really?” He said as he nervously smiled. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his hand before looking around at the other's. “well.. if you don't mind..” he says as he looks at you with a hopeful look.

“You gotta ask me like a man, c’mon,” you say playfully as you push his shoulder gently with a smirk. He laughed shyly before taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he says as he composes himself before looking down at you.

“Would you maybe like to go out sometime?”

[tokkiwrites]

Hi 💗 first of all, I just discovered your tumblr and I already love your work <3 I’m not sure if this is the way to request, but I’d like to request a kraven one shot, where he is absolutely in love with reader but because of a misunderstanding he breaks up with her in a mean but hot way, then he finds out about the truth and tries to get her pardon, ofc I’d love me some angst, smut and dom kraven 🥺🥺 thank you

▪︎summary: You’re a film producer with a busy schedule, and your boyfriend Sergei’s insecurities lead to a heated fight. After realizing his mistake, he goes all out to win you back, proving just how much you mean to him.

▪︎tags: established relationship, kind of toxic sergei imo, a bit of angst, afab reader, p in v, creampie, belly bulge (??), size kink if you squint, fingering reader receiving, makeup sex, a few pet names, mean (slightly) dom sergei.

▪︎first fic of the year!!! thank you for this request!!! it's been sitting in my drafts for a long while, so sorry for making you wait. it has 2.45k words & and it's not proofread, so if you see any errors, no, u didn't !! i hope you enjoy <3

The air in your apartment was thick with tension. You sat on the leather couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, waiting for him to return from yet another one of his late-night escapades. It wasn’t unusual for Sergei to disappear without much explanation; his life as a hunter—of men, animals, and vengeance—demanded it. But lately, he’d been colder, distant in a way that left you feeling like a stranger in your own relationship.

When the door finally opened, his broad frame filled the entryway. His face, shadowed by the dim light of the city outside, was unreadable. "You’re home late." you said softly, setting your phone down. He closed the door behind him with deliberate slowness, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. "We need to talk."

Your stomach tightened. "What’s going on?"

"I found something," he said, pulling a small, crumpled note from his pocket and tossing it onto the coffee table. You glanced at it, confused. It was one of your old grocery lists. "What about it?"

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I saw the address written on the back. A warehouse in the docks. Care to explain why you were there?" You blinked, trying to recall. "That was weeks ago. I picked up some things for work— props for the shoot. I told you about it."

"No, what you told me was that you were with your team. But I asked around. Your team never uses that place." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your skin prickle.

"Sergei, what are you getting at?"

"I think you’ve been hiding something," he said, stepping closer. "I’ve seen this before. People lying, playing both sides, thinking they can outsmart me." Your chest tightened with frustration. "Are you serious right now? You think I’m involved in…what? Some conspiracy? Smuggling?"

"Don’t." His voice dropped, dangerously low. "Don’t play innocent. I saw you meeting someone there— a man."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. Then it clicked. "Oh my God. You’re talking about Steve, aren’t you? He’s my set designer! He was helping me load props for the commercial."

"Steve," he repeated, skeptical.

"Yes, Steve! Sergei, do you think I have some secret life I’m keeping from you? Do you really think I’d risk everything for…for what, exactly?"

He didn’t answer, his jaw tightening.

"Unbelievable," you muttered, standing. "You’ve been pulling away for weeks, acting like I’m the problem, and now I find out it’s because you think I’m some kind of criminal?"

"You’ve lied before," he said, his voice softer but still firm.

You froze. "That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The one time I didn’t tell you I was scared on one of your hunts, and now you think I’m some kind of liar."

Sergei ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "Trust is not something I give lightly. And once it’s broken—"

"Once it’s broken, what? You punish me forever?" Your voice cracked. "I’ve been trying so hard to be there for you, to understand your life, and this is how you repay me?"

His silence was answer enough.

You grabbed your coat, the tears burning in your eyes now impossible to hold back. "You know what, Sergei? If you can’t trust me by now, maybe you don’t deserve me," you said, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. You shoved past him, grabbing your bag from the counter. "I’m done trying to prove myself to someone who’s determined to see the worst in me."

He didn’t stop you. He just stood there, the weight of your words settling into the room like a physical presence.

When the door slammed behind you, Sergei was left alone with his thoughts, the silence deafening. His instincts, honed through years of hunting and survival, were screaming at him that he had made a mistake. But pride held him back from chasing after you.

Days passed, and Sergei couldn’t get you out of his head. Every corner of his apartment reminded him of you—the mug you always used, the blanket you insisted on leaving draped over the couch, your perfume faintly lingering in the air.

But what haunted him most was the look in your eyes when you left. Hurt. Betrayed.

It wasn’t until he found himself back at the docks that everything began to unravel. He wasn’t there to check on you or verify his suspicions— he was there to work, tracking a lead on a smuggling operation tied to his latest hunt.

And that’s when he saw the warehouse you’d mentioned. Inside, he spotted Steve, the “man” he had been so suspicious of, overseeing a crew as they dismantled what appeared to be a film set. Lights, props, and equipment were being packed into cases.

“Perfect timing!” Steve called out when he spotted Sergei lingering by the entrance. “We just wrapped. Your girl's idea for the shoot went off without a hitch.”

Sergei’s stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Steve said, grinning. “She practically ran this whole project. She even came out here herself to supervise when we couldn’t get everything transported in time. Total lifesaver.”

Sergei’s heart sank. The anger he’d held onto for days evaporated, replaced by a crushing guilt. He had been so consumed by his doubts and paranoia that he’d completely misjudged you.

“Where is she now?” Sergei asked, his voice rough.

Steve shrugged. “Last I heard, she was taking some time off. Said she needed a break.”

It took Sergei two more days to track you down. You had retreated to a quiet café on the other side of town, tucked into a corner booth with a notebook and a cup of tea. When you saw him approach, your expression hardened. “What are you doing here?”

"Love, Iㅡ” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft. “I made a mistake.”

“You think?” you shot back, closing your notebook with a sharp snap. “I was wrong,” he continued, sitting across from you despite your obvious reluctance. “I let my fears and suspicions cloud my judgment. I accused you of something you didn’t do, and I pushed you away because of it.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Why are you really here, Sergei? To ease your guilt? Or to make yourself feel better about what you said to me?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m here because I love you. And because I can’t stand the thought of losing you over my own stupidity.”

Your breath hitched, but you refused to let yourself melt just yet. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? How little you must think of me to believe I’d do something like that?”

He reached across the table, his hand hovering over yours. “I don’t think little of you. I think too much of you. I’ve lost so much in my life. People I trusted. People I loved. And when I thought I might lose you too…” He swallowed hard. “I panicked. I lashed out. I was wrong.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, the raw sincerity in his eyes breaking through your defenses. “Do you know how exhausting it is, Sergei, to always feel like I’m on trial with you?”

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “And I promise you, I will do better. I will earn back your trust—if you’ll let me.” You hesitated, the walls around your heart crumbling piece by piece. “One more chance,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “But if you screw this up again, Sergei…”

“I won’t,” he said quickly, his hand finally closing over yours. “I won’t.”

As he held your gaze, the faintest flicker of hope warmed your chest. You weren’t ready to forgive him completely, but for now, you were willing to try.

And for Sergei, that was enough. "Let's go home?" he finally asks. You look up at him, and you can't contain a smile. "Sure. Let's go home..."

As Sergei unlocked the door to his loft, you stepped inside and froze. The space, usually dark and utilitarian, was transformed. Soft warm light bathed the room, illuminating dozens of vases filled with vibrant flowers. Roses, lilies, tulips, every kind you could imagine. A faint, delicate fragrance hung in the air, calming and intoxicating all at once.

Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes

wide. "Sergei.. what is this?" He shut the door behind him, watching you with a soft smile. "A gesture," he said simply. You turned to him, a mix of awe and confusion on your face. "How did you know I'd forgive you?"

His smile grew faintly sad, his sharp features softened by vulnerability. "I didn't." He took a step closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms. "But I wanted you to know what you mean to me. Even if you walked away for good."

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. You looked back at the flowers, the effort he had put into creating this moment, and you felt the last of your anger dissolve.

Reaching out, you picked up a bouquet of white roses from the coffee table and cradled them against your chest. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He chuckled, his hands sliding down to take yours, the flowers between you. "Maybe." You laughed softly, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. Looking up into his piercing blue eyes, you saw the Sergei you had fallen in love with: the fierce, unyielding hunter who was willing to bare his heart for you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you leaned up and kissed him. His lips met yours hungrily, his hands pulling you closer as if to make sure you wouldn't slip away again. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, igniting a fire in your core that burned away every lingering doubt

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, his hands slid down to your waist. "Come," he said softly, his voice thick with desire.

Without hesitation, you let him lead you to the bedroom. The space was just as carefully prepared as the rest of the loft. The bed was freshly made with crisp sheets, more flowers arranged on the nightstands, and soft candlelight flickered around the room.

You turned to him with a playful smile. "You really went all out, didn't you?" He stepped closer, his hands sliding up your sides, his lips brushing against your ear. "I don't take chances when it comes to you."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, his touch more insistent now, his hands trailing down your back. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes.

"I'll let you make it up to me." You giggle, arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Thank you, baby." In no time, he gets both of you naked, and as if it's the first time, you can't help but shy away a bit. Pulling you closer, his calloused palms travel across your torso, tracing the curves so perfectly. Your already messy hair and burning body invited him to climb over you completely. One of his fingers presses over your lips. "Open."

You do as you're told, parting your puffy lips and letting Sergei’s finger slip in. "Wider." he demands, pushing in another digit, traveling well past your tongue and into the back of your throat. It makes you gag slightly, but you moan around his fingers. He smiles proudly, thrusting his fingers into your mouth and slicking them up before removing them. You're left gasping for air. "Good girl." you shudder.

he motions you further on your back before lining his fingers with your exposed core. "m gonna work you out a little, baby, yeah? then make you take my cock." he doesn't hesitate for long. the slick and wet noises fill the room as Sergei pushes his fingers inside, causing you to buck your hips agains his hand. Your head turns to the side as you try to hide that growing warmth in your cheeks. those two fingers worked into you, turning you into a incoherent mess. A familiar feeling was building up inside your lower belly. "gotta come, baby?" he coos, mocking you. "can't have you do that. Need to feel my cock buried deep inside of that pretty pussy first."

his tainted words make your brain all fuzzy, soft whimpers and pleads parting from your agape mouth. "p-please" his fingers slip out of you, the feeling of emptiness being short-lived as Sergei pushes inside of you full force. This is the first time Sergei has made you take his cock all at once. His hips snap against your, eyes digging into you as if eating you alive. He's merciless, grabbing you by the cheeks harshly and making you look down at your belly, where a familiar bump was visible. "See that, baby?" He laughs. He was so deep inside of you. You can't help but squeeze around him.

"there's my good g-girlㅡ" he groans in utmost pleasure, roughly hitting just the right spot over and over. he pulls out almost completely before snapping his hips forward again, causing you to moan louder, breath hitching as his cock brushed, and probably bruised, your velvety walls.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good, love." he leans down and rasps into your ear "make you leak all overㅡ fuck!"

"p-lease, Sergei" you cry out, gripping him by his broad shoulders, the thrust quickening. he frowns, closing his eyes as he tightly grips you by your thighs. "gonna come all over my cock, baby, huh?"

with one last harsh snap of his hips, he sends you both into heaven and back. You each finish, and you can feel his come pooling inside of you. Your mind and vision blurry, you manage to whisper out a soft "I forgive you." Sergei falls next to you, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the crown of your head.

"I love you so much, baby " you smile before you reply with those three words that still make butterflies fly in his stomach."I love you."

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: for as long as it takes

I'm having feelings about middle-aged msr + I'm in the mood for angst. That's rarely a good combination. There's a good chance I'll decide to be nice to them later, though! Here, have a little pre-revival ficlet with feelings.

He doesn’t mean to do it. He really doesn’t. It’s crossing all the boundaries they’ve set, but he misses her so much he’s paralyzed with longing. His hands won’t obey his mind. He barely manages to pick up the phone, then hangs up on her with a spike of panic when she answers. He doesn’t want to break the rules. He respects the rules. The rules are their only hope.

She calls him back, but he doesn’t pick up, instead waits for the phone to stop ringing and then texts her “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just called your number by mistake.” She doesn’t text him back. He drops onto the couch and buries his face in his hands.

He’s managed to get up and stand by the kitchen counter, wanting to make coffee but unable to remember how to move his hands, when he hears the sound of a car outside.

He squeezes his eyes closed and doesn’t cry. He even knows the sounds of her parking her car. He recognizes the specific sound of her closing her car door. Her footsteps outside, and then her knock on the door. “Mulder?” she calls.

His feet begin their walk towards the door, drawn to her like a moth to the flame. He’ll burn himself on her if that’s the only way he can be near her. He even knows the sounds of her unlocking the door. And then she’s standing inside their house—his house—before he’s even crossed the room.

“Mulder,” she says, a look of concern in her eyes.

“Scully,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” She stops, and he has no trouble reading the expression on her face. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to know. She couldn’t stop herself from driving out here any more than he could stop himself from calling her. “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you did.” She doesn’t add that she didn’t believe him. That she still doesn’t believe him. He knows her entirely. He keeps forgetting that she knows him just as well.

When she closes the door behind her, she locks them into a vacuum and he can’t breathe. His lungs won’t fill with air. Danger hangs between them, disaster and destruction. “I was going to make coffee,” he says. “Do you want a cup?”

“No.” Her eyes aren’t leaving his face for a second. “Thank you.”

They move at the same time, closing the distance, meeting in the middle. The kiss starts hungry and grows more frantic as her coat drops to the floor and her fingers fight with the button of his jeans. He walks her backwards to the couch leaving clothes in their wake, and then she’s naked underneath him and he wonders how she got even more beautiful since the last time he saw her like this.

He wants to take it slow but he knows time is ticking away. Even as she draws him closer and wraps her legs around him, he can see regret in her eyes and he feels it echoing deep in his bones. This is going to break him and he’ll let it.

She closes her eyes as he pushes into her. That familiar pleased exhale she lets out once he’s all the way inside… it cuts into his heart until he has to close his eyes against the pain. She used to do this every time they came back together, every time they found a moment after life had kept them busy.

“Please,” she whispers, and he rocks into her, feels her hands on his back, her body welcoming him home.

He thought he’d never do this again. He hoped he’d get to do this again. But not like this, not in a stolen moment that will cease to exist after she leaves. It’ll leave him devastated no matter how thoroughly they’ll pretend it didn’t happen.

She doesn’t speak again and neither does he. But she lifts her head, kisses the corner of his eye, his cheek, the side of his neck, and he finds that he’s crying.

Her legs are tightening around him and he snaps his hips forward in short, hard thrusts; he knows what she likes, the sound of her moans tells him exactly what she needs. He doesn’t care whether he’s gonna come or not, as long as she does. If he can no longer make her happy in any other way, he wants to give her this at least.

She fists her hands into his hair and pulls his head up, crashes her mouth against his in a kiss that’s brutal and tender at the same time. She bites his bottom lip, invades his mouth with her tongue, takes him the way he’s taking her with every push into her perfect, tight body. The nails of her other hand are breaking the skin where they dig into his shoulder. He wants her to make him bleed. He wants it to sting after she’s gone.

He can tell that she’s getting close. She’s clenching around him, her heels digging into his ass, begging him to go deeper, and her desperate whimpers rip through every last protective layer around his heart. He’s hers.

She throws her head back and her hands take his upper arms in a death grip as she arches off the couch. She’s coming hard and he fucks her harder; if he’s gonna be feeling this forever, he wants her to remember it too.

His own orgasm hits him out of nowhere, so intense he cries out, his body shaking as he pulses inside her. And for a moment, it’s all real, too real. It can’t end; their love is a law of nature.

She’s panting underneath him and he holds himself up on trembling arms, finds her lips in another kiss. This one is slow and gentle. They’re already broken. There’s nothing left to hide.

They still don’t speak as she pushes at his chest and they sit up, his body throbbing with the ebbing waves of forbidden pleasure.

“I should go,” she says. She’s still breathing hard, her skin is flushed, and he doesn’t have the strength to feel the overwhelming unhappiness that will wash over him in a few minutes.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

They get dressed in silence. He wonders if there’s any way to fix this.

Before she leaves, her hand already on the doorknob, she looks back at him, and it’s the soul-deep sadness in her eyes that gives him hope.

“You know that I love you, right?” she asks, and he nods.

“Yes,” he says. “I know.” He does. That’s the worst part. “I love you too.”

“I know,” she says, and finds a smile for him that’s full of despair.

And then she’s gone, and he hears her footsteps on the porch, hears the closing of her car door, hears her driving away.

He’s cried all his tears for today. There are no more. They’ll come back later. He’ll cry over everything they’ve lost for as long as it takes. For as long as it takes until she’s ready to come home. He’ll be right here, waiting for her. He hopes she knows that too.

---

Optional fluffy part 2 this way

[youleftmenochoicebut]

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU — remus lupin.

SUMMARY. — remus can’t help himself, he has to take it off of you.

PAIRING. — remus lupin x halfblood!fem!reader

WARNINGS. — smut; unprotected sex (wrap it up pls!); not much plot but still some;

A/N. — i need some requests! send me some requests!🙏🏻

it’s the first party Lily and James are hosting at their new house, and it oh so happens to be a halloween one. after hours of fighting, your friend group settled on making it costume themed, which has made it tough for you to figure something out.

good for you, your fiancé is a very creative man. not so keen on playing dress-up, but creative nonetheless. you spent a few hours deciding what to wear, and in the end you settle on going as Sandy and Danny from Grease, a musical that over the last few months became your and Remus’ favorite movie.

you can hear Remus grumbling out in the living room, and you giggle to yourself as you finish putting on the bold red lipstick. your eyes focus on your reflection in the mirror, up and down your body in that tight costume, your maroon heels clicking against the floor when you step away from the counter. you ruffle up the curls you made with a muggle curling iron Lily had borrowed you for the occasion, and you leave the bathroom in a jumpy stroll.

„m’ready, Remy!” you hum softly, making your way over to where you’re sure he’s waiting for you, having the biggest smile on your face when you see him.

even though you knew who you were going as, you two decided to keep the exact look of your costumes a secret up until this moment. you think he looks amazing, he always does to you. he’s a bit down spiritually, considering the full moon is in about a week, but he definitely put his best into this. for you.

„you look handsome!” you put your hands on his chest, eyes grazing over his tall figure, and you hear him sigh. his dark caramel hair is brushed back with a lot of gel and styled to mimic Danny’s, the scars on his face faint and whitened from the time that’s passed since he got them. he’s wearing the costume well, simple black t-shirt that clings to his lanky body, black jeans that are taut on him, and of course, a leather jacket.

„thanks, dovey. you look fabulous.” he murmurs, resting his hands on the swell of your hips, thumbs brushing over your hipdips affectionately. he was leaning against the arm of the sofa, and now he stands up, raising his eyebrows.

you nod, and his arm wraps around your middle, hand on your lower back, and he smoothly apparates you both outside the Potter’s house in Godrick’s Hollow. your fingers intertwine as you make your way inside, the party already in full swing. Lily greets you, dressed as Sally Hardesty, and you compliment her outfit while hugging her. she moves on quickly though, going to greet new guests.

as you walk through the house with Remus practically attached at your hip, you see James and Sirius already dancing on the coffee table in the living room. Black dressed as David Bowie, and James… well, you assume is Leatherface (deducting from Lily’s costume), but honestly it’s hard to tell.

you split with Remus when Mary, Dorcas and Marlene drag you away from him, making you take some shots with them and dance.

and oh, you dance a lot. you’ve always loved dancing, your muggle mom being a dance teacher at a prestige academy. when you were little, before you went to Hogwarts, you used to always follow your mom to her private lessons. even now, despite not living in the muggle part of London, you love to wander to those parts of town, looking in windows at dancing studios.

somehow you end up upstairs (smoking some pot with Peter probably hasn’t been the best idea), walking through the hallway with your head turning left and right, watching the walls as if they are the most interesting thing you’ve seen tonight. suddenly you feel a harsh tug, someone pulling you into a bathroom, and you’re ready to scream before Remus’ scent envelopes your senses.

„Merlin, you scared me!” you hit his shoulder, frowning confused as you feel his hands glide all over your body, touching and kneading your flesh.

„sorry. need you.” his mumble against the column of your throat is barely audible, and you pull him away for a moment by tugging at the ends of his hair.

you know he gets like that, soon before the full moon. needy. possessive. heated. sometimes it’s almost like the wolf in him takes over, trying to keep you as close to him as possible, trying to mark you up. you can tell he’s drunk too, his pupils dilated, his breathing rapid.

you only smile, waving your to cast muffliato over the room, so that you won’t be overheard. you also cast colloportus to keep the door locked for anyone who could accidentally walk in on you two.

before you can turn your head back to him, he’s already tugging your shirt off, unclasping your bra, letting both things fall to the cold floor. he stares at your tits, just for a while, quickly leaning in and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. while his mouth works on your left boob, his hand squeezes and plays with the right one, and you throw your head back in quiet pleasure. he’s got you pinned against the door, the handle digging into your side, but you don’t mind it.

aware of the fact you can’t stay in here for much time, you gently push him off you, dropping to your knees. you grit your teeth when they hit the tiles, your hands reaching out to unbuckle his belt, fighting with it for a few seconds before Remus helps you. he throws the belt away, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. his cock springs out, painfully hard, slapping over his lower torso.

your mouth always waters at the sight of it, the throbbing ache between your thighs always doubling. it’s not very impressive in girth, but it’s long. like nine inches long. uncut, of course. your hand wraps around his base, giving it a gentle stroke, and Remus lets you just have your fun with it for a bit. not for too long though, because he soon gets impatient, and pats your hands away.

his own hand grabs his dick, and he steps closer, slapping his shaft against your cheek.

„open up, dovey.” he rasps out, and once you open your mouth, he puts the tip of his cock on your stuck out tongue, making a tsch sound. with a snap of his hips, he wastes no time pushing his junk further down your throat, making you gag and spit up. he’s mean tonight, set on what he wants, so he doesn’t pull out. he starts to thrust in and out, shallow at first, then grabs a handful of your hair to tug your head in closer. “you like that, huh? i sure as hell do. looking so fucking perfect for me on your knees like that.”

the way he talks, the way his thrusts grow faster and sharper, the way he pulls your hair to control your head movement. it all leads to you clutching your hands at his thighs, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, and your legs squeezing closed. you reach out, taking hold of his balls and kneading them between your fingers, happy as you hear the grunts escaping his mouth. finally he lets go of you, allowing you to breathe (or more like heave) for not even a minute before he grabs your arm and yanks you up. you grasp the edge of the bathtub, leaning down slightly, your ass on his crotch level.

you tilt your head back, wanting to watch him, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your tight leather pants, harshly pulling them down to your ankles. he rips your thongs off, and when you yelp in a form of protest, he slaps your asscheek hard.

“wanted to take those damn pants off the moment you left our bathroom.” Remus whispers, leaning over to nip at your earlobe, his slender digits grazing over your soaked cunt. “fuck, dove, you’re so wet. guess you wanted that as much as i did.”

“Remy, shit…” you whimper as he pushes two fingers in right away, and honestly they go in so smoothly, you’re surprised. he seems surprised too, letting out a low chuckle and pressing a kiss behind your ear, then straightens up.

he stretches your hole for a few minutes, adding a third finger, pumping in and out, curling his fingers inside you to hit the spot he knows makes you see stars. he even lets you come undone on his fingers, your orgasm crushing over you rather suddenly, and you can feel your pulse quicken rapidly.

he doesn’t let you ride out your orgasm though, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. he’s not gentle about it either, immediately taking up a rough pace, hips slamming into yours in reckless abandon.

you arch your back, moans and whines you let out getting more obscure with each thrust, and you reach back, trying to wrap your arms around his neck while not facing him. he helps you, hands moving from your hips to your waist and pulling you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder as he fucks into you.

“that’s it. so good to me, dovey. taking my cock like a pro.” he coos in your ear affectionately, fingers tracing mindless patterns over your stomach and his pace slows down. “gonna take my load too? or should i cum all over this gorgeous ass of yours?

you know he’s close, he practically always slows down when he’s close to cumming, and you can’t do much more than just nodding your head, feeling like mush in his embrace.

he clicks his tongue, slapping your tit lightly, and whispers. “use your words. can’t take a fucking nod as an answer.”

“inside, Remy. y’can cum inside.” you breathe out, the shakiness in your voice a clear indicator that you’re chasing your next release too. his hands rest on your chest at last, and he’s panting in your ear, while you let out a moan so high-pitched you would’ve cringed at it, if it wasn’t for the fact you’re getting fucked senseless right now.

his hips snap against yours a couple more times before he buries himself inside you completely, moaning and grunting as he stills, cumming deep into your cunt that’s squeezing him and clenching around him so deliciously. you climax at the same time, your legs giving up on you so you lean on Remus mostly, heaving and rasping for air.

it takes you both a while to come back to your senses, but when you do, Remus is peppering kisses over the side of your neck and shoulder, mumbling quiet praises.

“d’ya wanna go home, dovey?” he asks you as your pulse and breathing go back to normal, and you turn in his arms, letting his dick slide out of you.

“yeah. let’s go home.”

[theocddiaries]

Bruce: I don’t understand why we have to deal with this woman's problems. Jason: Come on, Bruce, you’re always going on about second or thousandth chances, and now you want to throw Harley out on the street? Damian: To be fair, it wouldn't be throwing her out. Just returning her. Dick: Stop being mean. [to Harley]: We’ll go with you to your hearing, okay? Harley: Really? Oh, guys, thank you so much. I owe you my life. I promise I won’t be a burden. MONDAY, 7:00 AM [Harley is asleep on the couch in the living room. She wakes up slowly and suddenly jumps up]. Harley: Oh my God. Oh, no! The trial! The trial! We’re going to miss the trial! [The family comes rushing down the stairs in a panic] Dick: Crap! We overslept. And there's only… [goes to check the clock and notices the calendar above]: …four days until the trial. Bruce: Harley, the trial is on Thursday, and today is Monday. Harley: Hold on… [counting on her fingers]: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Exactly. You could’ve figured that out without waking the rest of us, huh? [snuggles back into the couch]. TUESDAY, 7:30 AM [Harley stretches. She opens her eyes slowly and suddenly jumps up]. Harley: Fuck! The trial! We’re going to miss the trial!!! [The family rushes down the stairs in a panic] Dick: Shit, we overslept! Hurry, get dressed, there are only… [goes to check the clock and notices the calendar]: …wait, it’s Tuesday. Bruce: Harley, your trial is on Thursday! There are three days left. Harley: Hold on… [counting on her fingers]: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Exactly. Damn it, Bruce, and you couldn’t tell me that at lunch? I was having such a nice dream… [snuggles back into the couch]. WEDNESDAY, 8:00 AM [Harley runs a hand over her face and blinks a couple of times. She suddenly jumps up] Harley: Oh, fuck! The trial! The trial, we’re going to miss my trial!!! Bruce [entering the living room in a foul mood]: Damn you to hell and back, Harley. You used to know your workdays so well when you were replacing fire extinguishers with ones filled with confetti! Your trial is in two days; today is Wednesday, and we need to go on Thursday. Harley: Hold on… [counting on her fingers]: Wednesday, Thursday. Exactly. Look, Bruce, the first two times were funny, but you need to know when to stop a joke, or you'll start being an annoyance. Think about that, okay? [snuggles back into the couch]. [The family looks at her, shaking their heads, and returns to their rooms] THURSDAY, 12:00 PM [The family comes rushing out of their rooms, clumsily getting ready in a hurry] Jason: Fuck, we overslept! The earful we gave her, and now look at us! Poor Harley must have gone all alone-- Harley [comes from the kitchen with a cup of coffee, still in her pajamas]: Hi, family. Tim: …But Harley, what are you doing here??? Harley: Kid, aren’t you a little young to have such a bad memory? I live here now! Bruce: And aren’t you a little old to be this dumb?! Don’t you have something to do today?! Harley: …Oh my God, you’re right! [lunges for the TV remote]: My gossip show is about to start! Bruce [snatches the remote away]: No! I mean your trial! Your trial is today! Harley: That's on Thursday! [looks at the rest of the family]: Can you believe this guy? The whole week messing it up, I don’t know how you all put up with him-- Damian [shoves the calendar her face] Harley: Fuck!!! The trial! We’re going to miss the trial…! Wait… Haven’t I lived this before??? [Everyone rolls their eyes and keeps getting dressed] Harley: Either that, or I dreamed it. Brains are amazing. They focus on what’s worrying you, and you can't forget it even in dreams… Where are you all going? What’s happening? Dick: Each and everyone you’ve brought into the house after me is worse, Bruce, worse.

[yelenasdiary]

hiiii

request? yelena or florence (same tbh, you can choose) x reader, a little bit of angst but with an happy ending? and maybe fluff somewhere?

one shot that revolves around the phrase "I fell for you before I even knew it myself"maybe?? i dunno lol

Together

Pairing: Florence Pugh x GN! Reader

Summary: Afternoon tea soon becomes a cafe of confessions.

Angst & Fluff

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.3K

AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy! x

The rain ran softly down the window of the small café where you and Florence often spent your afternoons. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you like a comforting blanket as you sat across from her, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug, your heart beating with different emotions. It was no secret that you and Florence had grown closer over time, the late-night talks to the shared secrets to the little gestures of kindness made you terrified of ruining the beautiful friendship you had built with the actress. 

Florence was telling you all about the new script she had gotten only a few days ago, you could see her excitement for the new role well beyond her words. She spoke her with her hands but you heard more from the look in her eyes with the way they sparkled with passion, it almost made it hard for you to focus on anything else. But underneath the proud smile you had dancing on your lips, you were struggling with a secret you’d been pushing down for weeks. 

But after all that talk and excitement about her new role, her eyes shifted to the widow and within seconds she seemed miles away. 

“Flo?” You said softly, catching her attention, “is everything okay?” You asked once she locked eyes with you. She nodded, “Sorry love, I’ve noticed I’ve been having more of these moments more than usual” she said, her eyes glistening with unspoken words. You frowned slightly, “you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” 

A small smile tugged at her lips, “I know, it’s just sometimes, it’s harder to share things than it is to keep it buried” 

Reaching for her hand, you felt the coolness of her skin against your fingertips, “there’s nothing you can’t share with me, whatever you say will always stay between us” you assured her. Florence sighed before taking deep breath that seemed to release some of the weight she was carrying, “have you ever had feelings for somebody you’re close with but you spend almost every night tossing and turning wondering if you were to tell them would it ruining things or would it be something beautiful?” 

Your heart began to race at her words, you had been dancing around with the idea of your feelings for Florence in your mind for a while now, completely unsure if she would ever feel the same for you. With her business lifestyle and your own job playing a part in the cons list, you were sure that your feelings were no more than a simple crush and that eventually they would fade away. “Uh, yeah” you replied, questioning yourself if you’d ever be brave enough to tell her how much she meant to you. “I have, I think we all have” you added. 

Florence nodded, looking down at your hand clenching around the mug in your hands, “did you ever tell them?” She asked before her eyes found yours once more. You shook your head, “The fear was too much for me, I was too scared of rejection or worse, ruining what I have with them” you told her. 

“Them?” The blonde questioned, “so you’re still friends with them?”

“I am” you replied unsure as to how her question felt like both a confession and a knife driving into your heart, she wasn’t talking about you, surely. 

“Do you regret not telling them?” Her next question followed. You took a moment to take a sip of your warm drink, using those brief moments to think of the right words to say. “Sometimes I do and sometimes I’m glad I haven’t”

Florence smiled ever so softly, “Maybe I should just let things be” she said with a lit sigh. You saw the way a bit of hope disappeared from her eyes and you hated thinking maybe that was your fault, maybe you didn’t give her the best answers.

“But hey” you started, “you’re a lot braver than I am” you added with a smile. “You can’t tell me that you can go to all those red carpets and put on some out of this world acting but you’re too scared to tell somebody how you feel? I think you should tell them, I mean, whoever it is, they’re lucky to have your attention and besides, what do you have to lose?” You added. 

She took a generous sip of her hot tea before looking at you once again, “it might some as a surprise, but this feeling of fear is a lot bigger than the nerves I have ever felt doing my job” she started, “I have this deep fear of ruining what we already have…. what if they don’t feel the same? I know it’s a risk to take but if it ruins things, I don’t think I would ever be able to forgive myself” she continued.

Her vulnerability hung in the air like a thick mist as you leaned closer to her, wanting to close the gap of fear and courage. “But what if they do? What if they feel something strong but are also too scared to say anything?” 

Florence chewed at her bottom lip lightly while she contemplated the words that you spoke softly to her. You’d never seen her this shy and nervous before and while it started to dawn on you a little that whoever it was had captured the heart of the same person who made you feel like a teenager having their first crush. 

“I guess there was a real reason I called you this morning” she spoke, breaking the brief moment of silence between you both. Your eyes quickly shifted, hating that she was even bringing it up. “The last time we saw one another, I want to apologise for how I acted” she added. 

“Flo, it’s fine, honestly” you assured her, leaning back in your seat. 

“It’s not, I know I hurt you and I never meant to. I’ve always kept my emotions in check, but I have no excuse for snapping at you like I did. I thought if I could play it safe and push you away, I could convince myself it was easier that way” 

“What exactly were you trying to make easier?” You asked. 

“My feelings” Florence replied, her eyes locking onto yours again. Your heart skipped a beat as you discreetly pinched yourself under the table to assure yourself you weren’t dreaming. “These past few weeks, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and it made me realised that I fell for you before I even know it myself” she continued in a soft and sweet tone. 

Suddenly the world around you became a blur, all you could see was Florence sitting in front of you, the natural loudness of the café faded to nothing but a faint background noise as you listened to Florence open her heart, spewing her feelings onto the table at your hands. 

“I cherish our friendship more than you know which is why I had to take a step back. Every moment I spent with you, I just felt I was losing myself to you, my heart was completely drawn to you and I was terrified if I said anything that it would ruin what we already have” 

“F-Florence…” You struggled to find the right words, your heart skipping a beat with every breath you took, your stomach turning inside out just knowing that the person who captured Florence’s heart was you. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I completely understand if this has come as a surprise and you probably don’t eve-“

“I’ve felt the same way for such a long time” you cut her off, the words flying out of your mouth. 

“Really?” Her voice softened with a mixture of hope.

“Really” you smiled softly. 

Florence reached for your hands, giving them a lit squeeze, “I don’t want to lose this, I can’t imagine my without you, even as a friends” she said in an almost whisper.

“Neither do I” you said, leaning forward, “let’s take it slow, together” you added, your forehead resting against hers as her smile grew. 

“Together” she whispered.

Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @umadirectioner | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @boredandneedfanfics | @twentyonetornmyheart | @red1culous | @charlothee | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: can you do one where she has an abusive ex boyfriend that they are aware of and he comes into the diner or something and spots her and messes with her but he basically just ends up threatening her and a few days later they are at the bar and he’s there and hurts her or something. you can figure it out from there, im sure it will be great. thank uuuu:))))

Dean and Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

A/N: I hope this is exactly what you were looking for! Please let me know if you like this or not so I know what I can work on in my next writings! Everyone’s feedback is much appreciated like so so greatly appreciated. Requests are still open. You can literally flood my inbox with them, I don’t mind and I don’t mind writing things that I’ve already written! Thank you all!!!

Warning: Abuse

It was supposed to be just another quiet stop for the Winchesters. I was looking forward to something as mundane as a diner meal. A warm meal, some decent coffee, a few minutes without the looming threat of monsters or supernatural forces. It almost felt like normal.

I had slipped out of the car first, craving the smell of greasy diner food, and found a corner booth with a good view of the door. Sam and Dean followed shortly after, sitting across from me, and for a moment, I let myself relax. I could almost forget the weight of the world. I could almost pretend that we were just a normal family, sitting together for a meal. The low murmur of the conversation around me felt almost comforting. It was nice to feel like a normal person, if only for a brief moment.

The waitress brought over the coffee pot, filling my cup with a polite smile. I offered a small smile back, grateful for the normalcy.

But then, the door to the diner opened, and with it, a chill seemed to creep into the room.

I glanced up, my blood running cold as my gaze locked onto the figure that had just walked in. He wasn’t a monster, at least not in the traditional sense. He was human—far too human—and that was the problem.

Mike.

His eyes scanned the diner, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as they landed on me. My heart slammed into my chest as a sickening wave of panic swept over me. My hands suddenly felt clammy, my palms slick against the tabletop. I tried to breathe, but it felt like the air had thickened, suffocating me.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked, his voice laced with concern as he noticed my sudden stiffening.

Before I could answer, it was too late. Mike was already on his way over, his footsteps deliberately slow and deliberate, the sound of his boots clacking loudly against the tiled floor. His presence seemed to dominate the room, and the air felt suddenly too small, too tight.

I tried to keep my voice steady as I muttered under my breath, barely audible. “He can’t be here…”

Sam, not understanding the source of my fear yet, gave me a questioning look. “Who?”

But I couldn’t answer. I was already frozen, the world around me turning into a blur. My heart was pounding too loudly in my ears. I had only seen him once since I ran away from everything—since I left him behind. And now, here he was, standing right in front of me.

He didn’t even acknowledge Sam or Dean as he leaned in, his eyes gleaming with that same arrogance I remembered so well.

“Well, well,” Mike’s voice was low, laced with mockery. “If it isn’t the little runaway.” He leaned a little closer, his eyes glinting with something dark, something predatory. “Thought you could just leave, didn’t you? Thought you could just run away from me.”

My stomach dropped. Every muscle in my body tensed, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get away. I had to leave—but I was trapped. Trapped in that sickening gaze, in the memories that rushed back all at once.

Dean’s voice was sharp, the protective edge in his tone clear. “Who the hell are you?”

Mike looked over at him, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “You don’t need to worry about me, tough guy,” he sneered, his gaze flicking back to me. “I’m just an old friend of hers.” He said the word with a twisted emphasis, almost like it was a taunt. “Funny, though. Guess some people can’t escape their past, huh?”

Sam’s hand moved instinctively to his gun under the table, his brow furrowing as he studied Mike. But Mike wasn’t finished. Not yet.

“You know,” Mike continued, leaning closer to me, his voice dropping to a sickening whisper that only I could hear, “you’ll always be pathetic and weak. And them?” He gestured to Sam and Dean, who were watching him now, their expressions darkening. “They are just waiting for you to run away like I was waiting. Nobody wants you. You’re useless.”

I recoiled at the words, my breath catching in my throat. I had to force myself to speak, to fight through the panic that was clawing at my chest. “Stop, Mike. Just—just stop.”

That was all it took.

Sam’s hand flew to his gun, his posture shifting into one of full alert. Dean’s eyes were cold, murderous, as he slid out of the booth, taking a protective step forward.

“Mike?” Dean’s voice was low, filled with the kind of rage that only came from protecting family. “You’ve got about three seconds to walk out of here, or I swear to God, I’ll put you in the ground where you stand.”

But Mike didn’t move. Instead, he looked at me, his grin widening into something more cruel, more malicious. “Awww what the little pathetic baby can’t protect herself, huh?” His eyes flicked to Sam and Dean. “You’re just so useless in every aspect there ever was, huh?”

I was trembling now, the panic overwhelming me. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, Mike,” I forced through clenched teeth. My voice wavered, but there was a sharpness to it I hadn’t known I had until now. “You don’t control me anymore.”

The shift in the air was palpable. Sam had his hand on the gun now, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping it. Dean’s jaw was tight, his whole body tense with barely contained fury.

“You need to leave, Mike,” Dean growled, his voice like gravel. “You’re fucking done.”

Mike’s eyes flicked between Sam and Dean, his grin faltering slightly, but his posture didn’t change.

“You’re just the same screwed up girl from before.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That was the line that broke you. The same girl. The girl he had torn apart for so many years. The girl who had thought she was worthless because of him.

The words stung in a way that you hadn’t expected. And that fear, that same suffocating dread from your past, began to creep in. You felt your knees weaken.

Dean’s voice was a low growl. “Back the hell off right now or I’ll beat the shit out of you right here.” His posture was threatening, and you saw the way his hands were ready at his sides.

Mike smirked, taking a final look at you. “You can hide behind these two all you want, but you’ll always be that same scared little girl. I’ll show you soon. I’ll remind them of who I really am. I’ll remind you.” Dean yanked him by his shirt and held him in a tight grip. I stepped back instinctively, my mind reeling as his words cut through me, dredging up memories I had worked so hard to forget. Mike had been my first love—my first mistake—and he had torn me apart. I’d run from him years ago, thinking I could leave it behind, but now here he was, reopening every scar, every bruise.

But this time was different.

Sam’s voice cut through the tension, sharp as a blade, his hand reaching for his gun, his voice unwavering. “I think you should leave before this becomes a bigger problem than you’re willing to deal with.”

Mike finally hesitated. His grin had completely faltered, his eyes flicking nervously to Sam’s hand on his gun and to Dean’s grip on him. But then he straightened, pulling himself together with a sneer.

“Fine,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “But don’t think you’re done with me. None of you are.”

With that, Dean practically pushed him towards the diner’s exit. He stumbled towards the exit, his boots pounding on the tile as the door slammed shut behind him.

The tension in the room didn't dissipate until the door clicked shut, and the bell chimed again. Sam and Dean both stood in protective stances, eyes still locked on the door as if he might turn back at any moment. leaving us all tense and shaken.

Finally, Dean turned to you, his face softening slightly as he crossed back to your side. “You okay?” He asked gently. His voice was quiet, calming, but I could still hear the edge of anger beneath it, the protective instinct roaring through him. Sam turned to me, his eyes also softening with worry. You nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. The terror still gripped you. You were safe for now, but that didn’t undo what Mike had done to you in the past. The words still echoed in your head, the cruelty of his tone burning through your thoughts.

“Sweetheart…” Sam trailed off with so much softness in his voice. His eyes were so gentle as he looked down at you, trying to read your body language.

I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the cold, nauseating feeling his presence had left behind. I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just... just a little nervous now.”

Dean’s eyes were still hard, but he was quick to reassure me. “He will never, ever touch you again. I promise you that, kid.”

Sam gently touched my shoulder, “we have your back. Always.”

And for the first time in years, I allowed myself to believe that I was no longer his.

The peace didn’t last for long though. It was supposed to be an uneventful stop—a break before we hit the road and got out of this God forsaken town. I needed a moment, a chance to breathe. Dean and Sam had been talking about a hunt tomorrow, so they disappeared into the back of the bar, probably discussing plans, leaving me behind for a drink and some quiet.

The low hum of the jukebox, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of casual conversations had a calming effect on me. I slid into a corner booth, tucked away, hoping for a rare moment of peace.

But peace is fleeting.

A shadow crossed the door, and my heart dropped into my stomach. The familiar figure of Mike, tall, broad-shouldered, with that smug, unrepentant grin, entered the bar.

Time seemed to stop. I didn’t want him here. I didn’t want to face him again. Not after everything.

I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest, but my hands trembled as I gripped my glass. I couldn’t look away from him, not when he started scanning the room with a slow, deliberate gaze. And then, his eyes met mine.

A twisted grin spread across his face, and I could feel the chill crawl up my spine. He recognized me.

"Well, well... Look who it is." His voice carried, and a sharp sense of dread flooded my chest. "I didn’t think you’d be hiding out in a place like this, of all places. And alone of all things."

I froze, my throat tightening. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I forced my gaze downward, trying to ignore him. I didn’t want to make a scene, but everything in my body screamed for me to run.

Then, he was there. Standing at the edge of the booth, his face too close, too familiar.

"I told you, didn’t I?" Mike’s voice lowered to a sickening whisper. "You think you could just run away from me?"

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. His words dug into me, each one like a knife, twisting memories I’d buried deep.

Mike’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a grip so tight it sent a wave of panic through me. His fingers dug into my skin, and I winced in pain. I tried to pull back, but he was stronger. His fingers tightened, and suddenly I heard a sickening pop, like something snapping in my wrist. My breath caught in my throat, a strangled cry barely escaping as the pain surged through my arm, radiating through my entire body.

"Stop..." I whimpered, barely able to speak.

"Please..."

A sick, triumphant smile stretched across his face as he looked down at me, watching my agony with amusement.

“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” he sneered, his voice cruel and mocking. “I told you, you’ll always be mine. You can’t run from me. You’ll always be weak.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think.

"You'll always be mine. You'll always be that scared little girl. You think they can protect you now?" He laughed bitterly. "You're still weak. You always were." The pain was unbearable. The past came rushing back in waves—memories I had worked so hard to bury.

"Please... just leave me alone," I whispered, my voice small, helpless. But the more I begged, the harder he squeezed and every nerve in my body screamed.

When he finally released me, I flinched away, holding my arm close to my chest, trying not to show how much it hurt. He stepped back, his laugh echoing in my ears like a haunting reminder of the past.

Tears stung my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him anymore. I needed to leave. I needed to be away from him.

I pushed myself up from the booth, my legs shaky as I stumbled, pain shooting through my wrist. I had to get to Sam and Dean. They were my safe place.

I spotted them near the back, talking casually, and I made my way over to them. But as soon as they saw my face, both of them stopped. They were confused, worried—something wasn’t right.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked, his voice laced with concern.

But I couldn’t answer. I was shaking, my breath quickening as panic filled my chest. The pain in my wrist was unbearable, but more than that, it was the fear that had me paralyzed.

I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can we go? Please. I… I’m sorry.”

Dean furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding what was going on. Sam turned to me, his face softening with worry, but I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t bring myself to say what had just happened. The words stuck in my throat.

“What’s going on?” Sam said gently, stepping forward as he tried to look me over.

But I didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t know how to tell them that Mike—he—was here, that he’d hurt me again. The old fear wrapped around my chest, suffocating me, making it impossible to form the words.

I just wanted to go.

I looked down, clutching my wrist to my chest, desperately trying to stop the shaking. The pain in my arm was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the terror I felt in my gut. I just needed to get out.

“Please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I just want to go. Please.”

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What happened?" he demanded, his tone sharper now, full of suspicion. "What the hell's going on?"

I took a step back, wanting to run. I was shaking, terrified of what might happen if I opened my mouth.

"Please..." My voice cracked, but I barely got the words out. "I just... I just want to leave. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a scene.”

That’s when they noticed.

Sam’s eyes darted down to my wrist, where I was holding it against my chest, as if trying to protect it from the world. His face shifted from concern to something darker.

“Did someone hurt you?” Sam’s voice was sharp, full of the protective edge that only came out when someone threatened his family. But when Sam reached for my wrist, I shrieked in pain, the sharp agony from my arm surging through me like fire. My breath caught in my throat, and I staggered back, clutching my wrist tighter against my chest.

"Whoa, hey! What's wrong?" Sam's eyes widened, his hand immediately withdrawing as if he'd been burned.

Dean's head snapped toward us, his face now set in stone, eyes filled with fury. "What the hell happened to you?"

I was shaking now, too terrified to speak. The pain was throbbing, but the fear was worse-Mike's words playing over and over in my mind, his grip still seared into my memory.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice shaking. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"What the hell happened?" Dean growled, his voice now a low, dangerous growl, the protective instinct flooding him. He stood up, scanning the room. "Who did this to you?"

I couldn't make myself say it. I couldn't say Mike's name. I couldn't admit that he was here, that he'd found me again and that I had let him hurt me.

Sam looked at me, his face full of worry. "You're not okay. You're hurt," he said, but I was too terrified to look him in the eye. "Let me see your wrist."

But I recoiled again, clutching my arm tighter against my chest, almost as if I could will the pain to stop. The world around me felt like it was closing in.

"Please, can we just go?" | begged, my voice so small, so broken. "I don't want to stay here. I'm—I'm sorry… please don’t make me stay here."

Sam's eyes softened, his brow furrowing in concern. "It's okay," he said, his voice soothing.

"We're going to get you out of here. But I need to know what happened."

"I-I can't," I whimpered, barely able to get the words out. "Please... can we go? I—I don’t want to be here anymore…please"

Dean's eyes narrowed when he noticed something-something in my expression, something in the way I was trembling. He followed my line of sight to the bar.

And then he saw him.

Mike.

His eyes narrowing when he saw him standing near the bar, still watching us with that same twisted smile.

“Son of a bitch. I’ll fucking kill him.” Dean’s voice was low and furious.

Dean's face went stone cold, his jaw tightening in fury. "You stay here," he snapped at Sam before striding toward the bar, his eyes fixed on Mike.

"This ends tonight." He growled.

Sam's attention immediately turned back to me, his eyes full of compassion but also deep concern.

"We're leaving, okay?" He whispered, his hand gently rubbing my back. "You're gonna be fine.

I've got you."

Sam grabbed me gently, trying to steady me as I swayed on my feet. "Hey, it’s okay. Let’s get you to the car, alright?" He guided me toward the door, his hand steady on my back, trying to shield me from anything else that might set me off.

I was shaking so hard now that I could barely walk. Every step felt like my whole body was falling apart. Sam helped me out into the parking lot, his arm around me for support, but my head was spinning.

“I’m right here, okay? You’re safe,” Sam murmured, guiding me to the Impala. He opened the door, helping me inside and then taking a seat beside me, his arm around my shoulders.

I still couldn’t stop shaking. The pain in my wrist throbbed, but it was the fear, the memories Mike brought with him, that really tore me apart. I curled into myself, pressing my face into my knees, trying to block out the world.

“Sam,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the terror still coursing through me. “I—I can’t take it.” I could feel the tremors in my body, my hands trembling violently as the memories of Mike’s cruel grip and mocking smile surged back, unrelenting.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, his voice a low, soothing balm against my panic. He pulled me into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me like a shield, his warmth grounding me. “He won’t hurt you again. I promise. We won’t let him.”

But the images of Mike—the way he’d grinned as he hurt me—flashed in my mind like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. His mocking laugh. His fingers digging into my wrist, squeezing until I thought it might break.

“Sam,” I whimpered again, my voice breaking under the strain of the terror that still gripped me.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m right here,” he said, his words steady but filled with an emotion I couldn’t place. I could feel him, tense and alert, but trying so hard to stay calm for me. He rubbed my back, his hand a steadying pressure, as if to remind me that I wasn’t alone in this.

“No… Sam. He—he—” I choked, unable to finish the sentence, unable to find the words that could make sense of what Mike had done to me.

“You’re okay, bug,” Sam whispered urgently, his voice soft yet insistent. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you.”

I could barely breathe. Every time I tried to inhale, the memory of his grip tightened around my chest. “He… he was mocking me,” I finally managed to get out, my voice trembling. “He wouldn’t let me go… and—he was holding my wrist so tight… so tight, Sam. I tried… I tried to pull away, but it hurt so much.” My voice cracked as the memory hit me with a wave of nausea. “I heard it pop. I—I heard it pop, Sam… and it hurt so bad… and he just smiled. He—he watched me cry out in pain, and he just… he just grinned.”

I couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked my body, the memories ripping me apart all over again. “He—he said, ‘Does that hurt, sweetheart?’ With…with a sick smile… mocking me, Sam. Mocking me.” My breath caught, and the words felt like they were tearing me apart as I said them aloud. “He was enjoying me suffering.”

Tears slipped down my face as the weight of it all threatened to drown me. “I—I was so scared. I couldn’t get away… I couldn’t escape him.”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. The tension in the air thickened as Sam's eyes softened with every word you spoke, his heart breaking for you. He was furious, sick to his stomach at the thought of what you’d just endured. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, but his hands were gentle as he held me, pulling me closer to him. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t let go of me, didn’t loosen his grip. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as though he could somehow shield you from the world’s cruelty. He ran his hand gently over your hair, the soothing motion an attempt to calm you, even as his own anger simmered beneath the surface. His chest ached for you, and he could barely comprehend the reality of what you’d been through. His usually calm demeanor was shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice, by the pain that was still evident in your body language.

"You’re safe now," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

You clung to him, your sobs shaking your whole frame. The words, the images of what Mike had done to you, kept replaying in your mind, and you couldn’t escape the fear that still gripped you. “I—I couldn’t get away,” you gasped between sobs, your breath hitching in your chest. “I tried, Sam. I tried so hard, but he—he wouldn’t let me go.”

Sam’s grip on you tightened as he inhaled deeply, the pit of his stomach sinking at the sound of your broken voice. “He hurt you... he hurt you, and you couldn’t get away,” he said, more to himself than to you, the words leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him, fury at the way Mike had tormented you, at the way he’d tried to take control of your life again. The protective instinct in Sam had always been strong, but now it was on fire. He wanted to destroy Mike, to make sure he could never hurt you again.

“You’re so strong, you know that? So strong.” Sam whispered softly, trying to soothe you, even as the guilt gnawed at him. He wasn’t there when you needed him the most. He wasn’t there when you were so scared and alone, and it tore him apart. “You got out and he will never get near you again.”

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “I just want to go home, Sam,” you whispered, your voice small, barely audible.

“I know, I know.” Sam’s voice broke slightly, and he pulled you even closer, the act of comfort nearly suffocating but necessary. “We’re going home, I promise. You’re safe.”

Sam gently cupped your face in his hands, pulling your head back so he could look into your eyes. His gaze was unwavering, filled with compassion and a fierce protectiveness that only grew stronger. "Listen to me, okay?" he said, his voice firm but still so full of love. “You’re safe. I’m here, and Dean’s taking care of it. You’ll never be alone again, okay? Not for a second. We’re going to take care of you.”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face, but there was a sense of relief. In Sam’s arms, you felt like you were finally breathing again, the suffocating fear slowly easing just a little. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could be okay.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered again, feeling the guilt start to creep in. “I didn’t want to—"

“Hey,” Sam interrupted gently, his voice firm yet gentle, “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me?”

You blinked up at him, still trembling, but a small flicker of hope began to emerge. “I just…I just want to forget it all.”

“I know you do,” Sam said softly.

Just then, the driver’s door of the Impala swung open with a force that rattled the frame, and Dean stormed in, his eyes blazing with fury. The sight of you, still trembling, tears streaking down your face, seemed to momentarily soften the storm inside him, but the determined, protective look in his eyes was unmistakable. His jaw clenched tight, his fist white-knuckling the steering wheel, as he slammed the door behind him with a sharp thud.

“I took care of it,” Dean’s voice was low, gritty, strained with barely contained rage. His words held the weight of someone who’d just been to hell and back. “There’s a good chance he won’t even remember you when he wakes up.”

Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean’s knuckles, bloodied and raw, and the air in the car grew thick with the unspoken history of everything that had just transpired. “Holy shit, Dean,” Sam muttered, his voice a mixture of concern and disbelief.

Dean met Sam’s gaze, his expression cold and hard, a line of fury still drawn across his face. “I’m done letting him think he can still keep dragging her through hell. He got what was coming to him,” Dean growled, the last words leaving his mouth like a threat, but also as a promise to you.

Sam nodded, the corners of his lips curling slightly, the relief in his eyes undeniable. “Good.” His voice softened as he turned to you, the weight of the situation settling into his chest. “We’ve got your back. Always.”

Dean’s eyes flicked toward you for a brief moment, his face hardening again, but there was something softer in his gaze now—something tender, protective. He turned his attention to the rearview mirror, his posture tense, as though the rage still burned deep in his chest, refusing to fully dissipate. "He’s never getting near you again, kid," Dean said, his voice gravelly, but with a deadly certainty that made it clear he would move mountains to keep you safe.

And in that moment, for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed it. You believed they’d keep their promise. Mike wouldn’t touch you again. Not ever. The weight of that truth settled in your heart, the fear that had clung to you for so long slowly beginning to unravel. It was over. You were free. And with your brothers by your side, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

[ebongawk]

fun facts about every star in the sky that I didn't have time to include:

now that I've completed my st4 fix-it fic, every star in the sky (is taking aim) and it's been out for a while, I thought I'd go through a variety of small details I came up with through writing their journey that I either didn't have the time or the place to include in the original story.

(technically some spoilers below the line!!!)

from Eddie waking up on the 28th of February to Chrissy rushing her way into the Upside Down, the story takes place in its entirety over ten days. Eddie's hospital trip technically happens after midnight, dawning the eleventh day without the oppressive red thunderstorm hanging over their heads.

Prior to the accident, Fred's Vecna song would've been St. Elmo's Fire by John Parr. After the accident, he hadn't found another song that spoke to him in quite the same way, leaving him without the protection of a favorite song. Whether that would've mattered or made a difference is up for debate.

The uncle that taught Patrick archery was his dad's brother. He killed himself in 1982, which is when Pat's dad started getting significantly more violent.

Chrissy and Eddie's mom, Alice, share a birthday. February 26th.

In chapter 4, when Eddie gives Chrissy his phone number, he writes in on the back of a tampon receipt. I just thought it was funny.

On their first anniversary, which they decided is March 1st, Chrissy gifts Eddie with a stuffed elephant he dubs Sir Ears-A-Lot the Third. Sir Ears-A-Lot the First is in his mom's casket and the Second is the keychain that disappeared. It ends up becoming a staple, holding a place of honor in every home they live in after.

The first thing Eddie does once he has his cast off his book an appointment at a tattoo parlor. He gets the bats on his arm covered, replacing them instead with a large bouquet of black and pink dahlia flowers. Chrissy's favorite.

While Steve, Robin, and Argyle showed an interest in Kali (I mean who wouldn't), she actually only had eyes for one member of the Party.

Kali also takes off immediately after closing the gates with El, knowing she can't stay without risking getting caught, but she circles back a few months later. Part of the crowd when Eddie, Chrissy, Patrick, Nancy and Robin all graduate.

With Joyce going to find Hopper three-and-a-half weeks earlier than in the canon storyline, he wasn't on the verge of being sent off as Demogorgon fodder, so it was easier to break him out.

Patrick and Jason's friendship doesn't survive Battle of the Upside Down. Jason is far more upset about this than Patrick.

Andy entirely loses his ability to speak above a hoarse whisper as a result of his injuries, as well as some mobility. He is forced to retire from sports and, bitter and angry, refuses to go to college.

Coincidentally, Chrissy was accepted into the University of Massachusetts, Boston with a partial cheer scholarship, putting her only 15 minutes from Nancy at Emerson. They both scream when they realize, nearly blowing out Jonathan and Eddie's ear drums.

At some point while cleaning out a closet, Chrissy finds a box of framed photos tucked away. Each one of Alice, Wayne and Eddie all together in some capacity. She and Eddie pick one to put out on the coffee table, and Wayne cries (extremely manly, one-to-three tears) when he sees it. He admits that it was too hard to look at them before, and putting them away was his selfish need to keep her memory at arm's length. Eddie forgives him, of course. The next day, all of the other photos are out, too.

[hey-there-22]

I think little Powder created a rule for herself to not talk about Vander after she was taken in by Silco. She listens when he talks about him, she answers questions when asked directly but she never shares her thoughts. It probably started out of fear of fucking everything up and loosing Silco too, but after some time it just became a habit. 

But Felicia? Jinx didn't know Silco knew her, she didn't know she was the reason Silco became… Silco, so she just mentions her from time to time. 

The first time she did, Silco was teaching her about explosives (because that's what he had learnt they could bond over, even if he knew that Jinx's abilities would soon exceed his). He was working on one of Jinx's bombs, trying to help her figure out why it wasn't working when he just mentioned he used to deal with dynamite on the mines when he was Jinx's age.

There was a moment of silence. She wondered if that was how Silco and Vander had met, but she couldn't ask, so she tried to get that thought out of her head and said the next thing that came to her mind.

“My mum was a miner too.”

Silco froze for a second. Then continued to work in silence for a few minutes.

“There,” he said, handing the bomb to Jinx, “go test it out.”

Jinx smiled, excited, taking the bomb and Silco's sleeve to guide him outside the office, lightening the mood without even realizing it. 

They never really talked about Felicia. The same way they never really talked about Vander. One spoke, the other listened. No comments, no opinions, just letting the other one express their thoughts and feel listened to.

There was only one time Silco broke that unspoken rule: the last time they talked about her.

He had a meeting with a new investor in shimmer. An old contact, Silco had explained. After hours of negotiations, they had finally gotten to an agreement. The man looked around the room while Silco was pouring them a glass to close the deal. He shared a look with Jinx, who had been drawing on the coffee table the whole time. 

“Isn't that…” he began to ask, turning to face Silco, acting as if the kid couldn't hear him. “That's… Felicia's daughter, isn't it?”

Silco and Jinx looked at each other from across the room, both looking for the correct answer to the question in the other's reaction. People had asked before if she was one of Vander's kids and the answer had always been a simple and dry “no” from Silco that made them know not to ask again, but no one had ever recognized her because of her mother.

Silco seemed to keep his cool, thought, and quickly recomposed himself and looked away so Jinx did the same and continued drawing, pretending not to listen. Whatever he had decided was the correct answer was okey with her, she trusted him, trusted his calmness.

Silco handed the man the glass.

“She is, yes.” His tone was cold, a slight threat the man didn´t seem to get.

“Yeah, I figured," he took a sip "the three of you were inseparable back in the day after all.”

Trust? Trust was not was she was feeling anymore. Jinx had her gaze fixed on Silco. She was staring at him so intensely she could almost hear his thoughts going 'fuuuuuck'. But the coward  was. Not. Looking. Back. But then their eyes met for a brief second, and he was the smallest she had ever seen him. Guilty and ashamed and he wasn't Silco but the man he claimed Vander had killed long ago. Her father was showing vulnerability, and she wasn't about to dig in the wound. Not in front of other people.

She slowly returned to her drawings and noticed Silco physically relax. Only when the meeting was over and the investor had left, he acknowledged her again.

“Jinx…” He approached her.

“No.” She didn't move. “You can't do that”

“Do what?” He sat beside her on the floor but leaving some space between them.

“You knew my mum?” She looked at him, anger turning into tears.

Silco doubted for a second, “Yes.”

“No.” She stood up, tears uncontrollably running down her cheeks at that point. “It's not fair. You do not get to say I'm the daughter of the woman you knew. You do not get to feel grief or guilt or whatever the hell you… You can't tell me about her, or think of her when you look at me. You… you can't… She is mine. She is my mum. She can't… I've already…"

Silco got on his knees to hug her tight and she melted into his arms, all the anger transforming into muttered cries, they ended up on the floor again.”Shhh, don't cry. Don't cry, Jinx, she's yours, all yours. Shh, stop crying.”

They stayed like that for hours. Jinx eventually calmed down, but neither of them moved.

“You know, if you ever…” Silco whispered, breaking the silence.

“No.” Jinx interrupted in a weak mutter. “Grieve alone… Please. I don't want to know someone I've already lost.”

[noorpersona]

Unrequited Love: Oikawa

You’d known Oikawa for as long as you could remember. From messy sandbox battles to after-school practices that went late into the evening, he’d always been there—your first friend, your longest friend. The three of you—Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and you—had always been a unit, bound by years of shared childhood, inside jokes, and more than a few arguments.

But right now? Right now, Oikawa was testing every ounce of your patience.

“Hajime said you’ve been holed up in here for hours,” you said as you shoved open his bedroom door without knocking. “What’s your excuse this time?”

Oikawa groaned from the depths of his bed, a mess of blankets and pillows hiding all but the top of his ruffled hair. His room was a disaster zone: clothes scattered everywhere, an abandoned volleyball rolling lazily near the desk, and the faint smell of coffee from the cup Hajime must’ve left here earlier.

“Go away,” Oikawa muttered, voice muffled by his pillow.

“No,” you said firmly, kicking the door shut behind you. “I’m not letting you sulk forever. What happened?”

He rolled onto his back, his face pale and his eyes a little red. “She broke up with me,” he muttered, his voice cracking just enough to make you wince. “She said I was too focused on volleyball. That I didn’t care enough about her.”

Your heart squeezed. You’d seen the writing on the wall. Oikawa was intense about volleyball—obsessed, really. It was one of the things you admired about him, even when it frustrated you. But it was hard to hear him like this, even harder to know that he’d never think about you the way he thought about her.

You crossed your arms, steeling yourself. “Well, she’s not wrong,” you said, your tone blunt. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Tooru. Volleyball this, volleyball that. What did you think would happen?”

His face scrunched up in annoyance, and he reached out to grab a pillow, lobbing it weakly in your direction. “Gee, thanks for the support.”

You dodged it easily, smiling despite yourself. “I’m serious, Tooru. You’ve got to figure this out, or you’re going to keep pushing people away.”

He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “You sound like Iwa-chan.”

“Maybe that’s because Hajime and I are the only ones stubborn enough to stick around while you throw yourself headfirst into everything,” you shot back, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Do you even realize how much we’ve put up with over the years?”

He peeked at you from under his arm, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You guys are too stubborn to leave me.”

“Damn right we are,” you said, reaching out to flick his forehead. “But don’t push your luck.”

Silence fell between you, the tension lifting slightly. You leaned back, resting on your hands as you studied him. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and he looked younger somehow, like the kid you used to climb trees with instead of the volleyball star he was now.

“Come on,” you said eventually, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your pants. “The team’s going out. You can’t stay in here forever.”

“I don’t feel like it,” he muttered, sitting up slowly.

“Tough.” You grabbed his wrist and tugged, ignoring his protests. “Go shower, change, and join us. I’ll wait in the living room to make sure you don’t crawl back into bed.”

He sighed, dragging his feet as he shuffled toward his dresser. “You’re so bossy.”

“And you’re so whiny,” you shot back, grinning. “Go!”

Just as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You glanced back, raising an eyebrow. He stood there, clothes in hand, his expression softer than usual.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re a good friend.”

The words hit harder than they should have, settling like a stone in your chest. But you forced a smile, pushing the ache down where it belonged.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice steady.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it for just a moment.

Being his friend was enough, you told yourself.

It had to be.

[queenbrucewayne]

Late Nights (Batman)

A/n: I am going to be writing a Bruce Wayne version, which is why Batman is in parenthesis.

“You know, it could be a few more hours until he comes back.” Alfred came from behind, placing a soft, cozy blanket over Y/n.

She smiled sweetly, humming as she brought the blanket up to her neck and snuggled deeper into the warmth.

“I know, but I don’t work tomorrow and it would be nice to greet him home from time to time when I can… especially tonight.”

Alfred nodded, leaning down he kissed the top of her head, he walked back to go upstairs and get ready for bed.

Y/n glanced over at the clock, 1:30AM. She sighed, Alfred was probably right, he probably wouldn’t be back for another few hours. However the stubbornness and determination was enough to give her the confidence to pull thru. Putting on a small show on the Batcave computer, she grabbed her coffee and snuggled deeper into his chair, waiting.

She wasn’t sure at what point she fell asleep, but the sound of the Batmobile screeching to a stop pulled her from her nice dream she was having. Still too tired to move, she brought the blanket closer to her face, her legs curled up to her chest as she tried to keep away from the cold air.

The sound of heavy boots echoed throughout the Batcave, getting closer to the chair she was snuggled in. When she heard them come to a halt next to her, she slowly opened her eyes as she came face to face to a pair of bright blue eyes looking back at her.

Bruce raised his gloved hand and brought it to the side of her cheek, stroking her face gently with his thumb. Y/n smiled, still fighting the sleep that was trying to pull her back into dream land. Glancing over at the clock she saw it now read 5:40AM.

She yawned, looking back to Bruce who was still wearing the make up around his eyes. He looked just as exhausted as she felt.

“Didn’t we talk about you not waiting up for me.”

“You talked about it, I remember listening for the most part.” Y/n shrugged. “Common, let’s go take a shower and then we can talk about it again.”

Bruce smirked, “right, because you and I both know I’ll wanna talk to you about it right after showering together.”

“Exactly!” Y/n stood up, taking his hand and leading him upstairs. “You have amazing self-control.” She teased.

“Not when it comes to you.” Bruce stated.

Y/n laughed, before they could get much further Bruce stopped in place, causing her to get pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce looked back to the clock. “It’s almost 6AM.”

“Yeah?”

Bruce looked back to her, feeling his grip on her tighten. He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping his other arm around her waist. Leaning down he kissed her gently, which Y/n was happy to receive.

When he pulled back Y/n looked up to him confused. “What was that for?”

“Happy anniversary.” Bruce said, kissing the top of her head he smiled at her expression. “Surprised I remembered?” He joked, although he knew it was fair if she didn’t think he would.

Y/n nodded, standing on her tippy toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a little peck. “You’ve just been so busy, and then when the Justice League needed your help on top of the company putting you thru meeting after meeting… I don’t know, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

Bruce sighed, laying his head down on her shoulder he started to relax when he felt Y/n play with his hair. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about, common, let’s go take that shower and sleep for all eternity.”

“We can’t sleep for all eternity, we have dinner reservations tonight.” Bruce looked up to her, her cute confused expression made him laugh.

“Really?!” She asked, trying not to get her hopes up too high. “What about patrol tonight?”

“I called Clark, he owes me one.”

“You asked Superman to watch over Gotham for a night? Wow, you must really need to sleep.” Y/n couldn’t believe he actually asked him. “Fuck it, this is great!”

Bruce smirked, “don’t get used to it, we shall see if Superman can handle a night on the Gotham streets.” Taking her hands down from his neck, he interlocked his fingers with her, walking in front this time as he lead them upstairs.

“I give him till midnight before he breaks.” Y/n teased, following close behind, and excited for a night off.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 34

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 7399

Warnings: Dean being Dean, Fluff (near the end), Angst, Premonition, A look inside the PP&P, tense situations.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 34

Of course it wasn’t over. The thought played on a relentless loop in your mind. Cole being in custody wouldn’t be enough. Deep down, you had known that, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it. After the premonition had ended and you’d woken up, there was no going back to sleep. You tried—focusing on the steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing beside you, the warmth of his presence—but it was no use. An hour later, you’d slipped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, careful not to disturb him. Using the bubble technique, you shielded your thoughts, unwilling to mar the memory of his birthday with the weight of your vision. It was still early, very early, not even four yet. You wanted him to keep those dreams—of laughter, of you—for just a little longer.

Now, seated at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in hand, you stared at the pad of paper in front of you. Your handwriting scrawled across the page, disjointed notes capturing fragments of the vision. Occasionally, you reread what you’d written, trying to pinpoint what had been important. What are the damned constants? 

You sighed in frustration, the tip of your pen tracing absentminded doodles in the margins. At the top of your list was the license plate number and the state—clear as day in your memory. Next came the details about the man whose face hovered at the edge of recognition. Then Cole. And lastly, the truck. 

You exhaled sharply, pushing away from the table and refilling your mug. The caffeine wasn’t helping much, but the ritual of it gave your restless hands something to do. As you sipped, the faintest flicker of hope stirred—a memory. Missouri. Her number was still in your phone.

The idea ignited urgency. You flicked on the living room lamp and scanned the coffee table, sifting through yesterday’s clutter and the books from Crowley that had been left forgotten, until your phone came into view. Relief bloomed as you snatched it up and returned to the kitchen, the warm mug cradled in your other hand.

As you opened the call app, her number was there, sitting at the top. Then, you glanced at the time and frowned. It was just after five. Is it too early to call? Just as you thought that, your phone rang in your hands. An amused yet quiet chuckle slipped out, seeing Missouri’s number on the caller ID.

Before you could say anything, she was speaking, “What’s the matter, sugar?” She was concerned, having been pulled from her coffee by an image of you.

“I had another premonition last night. It’s about Cole,” you began, keeping your voice down so you didn’t wake Dean. You really didn’t want him to worry.

On the other end of the line, Missouri sat up a little straighter in her chair, worry prickling along the back of her neck. “What did you see?”

You recounted the premonition to her, your words deliberate as you relayed the vivid and muted details, the stark clarity of the license plate, and the figure in the courtroom. Missouri listened intently, the scratch of her pen barely audible as she jotted down notes. It was hard to know exactly what the consistent was without reviewing the premonition herself, but she had enough of an idea.

“You said that man was in the courtroom as well?” she asked, her voice steady but sharp with focus.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “He was sitting three rows back, near the door on the Vaught’s side of the courtroom,” that hope only growing instead of the fear you would have typically felt. 

For a few moments, Missouri was silent as she made more notes. Then her voice came through, calm but resolute, “I’ll take care of this.”

“Thank you. I just didn’t know who else could help,” you told her, the tension and frustration slowly leaving your muscles.

“You did the right thing,” she said softly. There was something soothing in her tone, the same quiet strength that you had felt when you met her in person. “We’ll get this handled.”

The call ended, and the morning no longer felt like the weight of it would crush you. The knot that had been in your stomach slowly unwound itself as you relaxed into your chair. Setting your phone down and sipping your coffee, you let the quiet calm of the bunker seep into you. Carefully, you let the bubble around you dissipate the more you relaxed. The last thing you wanted was for Dean to wake up to the tension that had coursed through you earlier. 

—----------------------

Missouri studied her notes, her pen tapping idly against the pad as she sipped her coffee. The pieces of the puzzle were there, scattered across the page, but they didn’t quite fit together yet. She knew of Pamela’s warning to you about staying in the bunker past Dean’s birthday. But Pamela was vague on things when there were multiple outcomes, multiple possibilities of how things might play out.

She knew Pamela had her reasons, of course. Premonitions were delicate things, especially when multiple outcomes were in play. Too much information could tip the scales, turning a benign situation into a disaster—or worse. Missouri had seen it happen before. That was the tricky part about being an empath. The constants were always there, but it was the subtle differences, the tiny threads in the weave of fate, that determined everything. Pamela tended to work in those threads, weaving her warning sparingly, leaving room for flexibility.

It was still too early to deal with the PP&P—bureaucracy wasn’t known for its punctuality. Instead, Missouri opened her laptop, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she began digging into the license plate number you’d given her. Her work with the agency came with certain privileges, and access to databases most people didn’t even know existed was one of them.

Her search yielded results in seconds. Missouri’s sharp eyes scanned the screen, taking in the details: registered to a red, Chevrolet El Camino, linked to a name that set off warning bells in her mind. She paused, a frown deepening the lines on her face.

“What did you see, Pamela?” she whispered as the possibilities began teasing her thoughts.

The phone on the table beside her laptop buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She reached for it, already sensing who was on the other end.

“Pamela,” she greeted smoothly, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. “I was just thinking about you.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” Pamela quipped, though her tone lacked its usual playfulness. There was a weight in her voice, a weariness Missouri picked up on immediately.

“What’s got you calling this early, sugar?” Missouri asked, leaning back in her chair, her fingers laced around her coffee mug.

Pamela sighed, the sound crackling softly through the line. “You know why.” “I have my suspicions,” Missouri replied, her tone measured. She decided to prod gently; Pamela wasn’t one to be rushed. “You’ve been awfully cryptic with those two. Something you want to tell me outright, or are we dancing around it today?”

“Missouri…” Pamela hesitated, and that alone spoke volumes. She wasn’t usually one to waver. “It’s complicated.” “It always is,” Missouri said, her voice softening just enough to coax her friend. “But you called me, which means it’s time to uncomplicate it.” Pamela exhaled sharply, as though the words she was about to speak had been sitting heavy on her chest. “The warning I gave them? About staying in the bunker? I had to be sure which path things would take. You know that.” Missouri’s grip tightened on her mug, “Go on.”

Pamela’s voice dropped, tinged with a rare seriousness. “You remember Gordon Walker?”

Missouri didn’t answer right away, her eyes reading the same name on the page pulled up on her laptop. “I remember him,” she said finally, her voice low and thoughtful. “You think he’s involved?” It was a prodding question, she knew that, but she needed Pamela to share what she’d seen.

“I know he is,” Pamela said, the weariness giving way to urgency. “I thought it might happen before Cole’s arrest. Or when he was being transferred to prison. I had even seen Gordon helping him the night he planned on killing Dean after he’d been released.” Pamela sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. These were the difficulties with so many different possibilities, never knowing which one would happen. “I had to be sure before I called. He’s how Cole escapes. And if that happens, Dean will die.” For several long moments, neither woman spoke. Missouri knew Pamela had to be sure before she acted on any premonition she had. “I’ll take care of it. Do you happen to know Gordon’s current location?”

Pamela didn’t hesitate this time. “The motel off route 27, the same one along the PP&P’s planned transfer route. Room 15,” she replied, already having seen several different outcomes of giving this information to Missouri. 

Missouri’s lips pressed into a thin line as she grabbed her notepad, scribbling down the details. “Thanks for the information, sugar. This’ll be handled quickly.”

She ended the call, her eyes drifting back to the laptop screen. The pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, but the picture they formed was messy and dangerous. “So much for this going smoothly,” she sighed on her way to get another cup of coffee. By seven, Missouri was pulling into the parking lot of the PP&P’s main office building. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could handle over the phone or email—too many moving parts, too much room for error. Some things demanded a personal touch. 

The January air bit at her skin as she stepped out of her car, her breath misting in the cold. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she crossed the lot, reaching the front doors just as the receptionist turned the key in the lock. Missouri offered a polite nod as she stepped inside, warmth and fluorescent light chasing away the frost.

The building was deliberately unassuming—a plain brick structure designed to blend into the sprawl of business’ along the main road. Inside, it was the same: neutral walls, standard-issue carpeting, and the faint hum of office equipment. It was functional, not flashy, just like the people who worked here. Well, all except one.

Missouri exchanged brief greetings as she made her way up to the second floor. Her heels clicked against the tiles, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet morning. She stopped in front of a door with a small plaque reading C. Bradbury, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Charlie was already there, as Missouri knew she would. She was perched behind her desk, her bright red hair framing her face as it fell in waves halfway down her back, fingers flying across her keyboard. A half-empty energy drink sat beside her monitor, a testament to her reputation as one of the agency’s best—and busiest.

“Missouri!” Charlie greeted brightly, looking up with a grin that was equal parts genuine and mischievous. “You’re here early. Let me guess: something’s on fire, and you need me to put it out?”

Missouri raised an eyebrow, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “Something like that, sugar,” she replied, setting her notepad on Charlie’s desk. “I’ve got a report that needs filling, and it can’t wait.”

Charlie’s grin faded slightly as she saw the tension in Missouri’s expression. She picked up the notepad, scanning the notes with quick, practiced eyes. “Gordon Walker,” she murmured, her tone shifting to something more serious. “This guy’s a real piece of work. And you want a transport reroute for Cole, too?”

Missouri nodded, crossing her arms. “That’s right. Gordon’s planning to help Cole escape. If he pulls it off, Dean Winchester dies.”

Charlie had helped with several things involving the Y/L/N and Winchester files over the years. To her, the whole thing was a complete mess, but protocols had to be followed. The short of it meant that she couldn’t do anything without one of the empaths on the payroll to see something so it could be stopped. She set the notepad down, her fingers already moving back to her keyboard. “All right, give me a sec. I’ll start the paperwork for Walker’s collection and run the reroute program with the new intel about a guaranteed escape.” The girl had an automated program for just about anything. 

Missouri offered a faint smile. “I need to go put in the report of Y/N’s premonition. I’ll stop back in before I head out,” she stated as she headed toward the office door. “Thanks, Charlie,” she added softly before leaving the office.

But Charlie was already focused on the laptop in front of her, eyes moving nearly as fast as her fingers flew across the keyboard again. Charlie was one of Missouri’s favorites at the office—brilliant, resourceful, and just the right amount of reckless.

As she approached the records office, Missouri’s thoughts lingered on Charlie. The girl was a firecracker—too smart for her own good sometimes—but Missouri appreciated that kind of ingenuity. Charlie had found her way into the agency by hacking her way into their system, and instead of pressing charges, they’d offered her a job. That same boldness was why Missouri trusted her to get things done right, no matter how messy the situation was.

The records clerk glanced up as Missouri entered, a manila folder tucked under her arm. “Morning, Missouri. Got something for me?”

“Morning, Hannah,” Missouri greeted with a polite smile, sliding the notepad across the counter. “Need this filed under urgent—Y/N’s first clear premonition. It’s been confirmed by Pamela.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions. She knew better than to dig into empath business. Instead, she set the current file aside. There was only one file under your name, since you’d come into your empathic abilities so late in your life. Hannah sat in front of her computer, pulling up the necessary report, then began entering the information Missouri had provided of your premonition.

“First real premonition and already flagged urgent,” Hannah murmured, mostly to herself, as she began entering the details Missouri provided.

“You’re on top of things as always,” she said after a moment, her tone half-admiring, half-teasing.

Missouri chuckled lightly. “Somebody has to be. Y/N has been through more than anyone should have to go through. She deserves to live a happy life and not have to look over her shoulder every day.”

It was cases like yours as to why Missouri had joined the PP&P. There weren’t many, but to Missouri, even one was too many. No one should have that sort of power over anyone’s life, to twist it into fear and uncertainty. 

Hannah paused as she realized what the information entailed, glazing up at Missouri. “The Cole thing still isn’t over? Wasn’t he scheduled for transport today?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Not yet. If all goes well on Charlie’s end, it should be over in a few days. She’s also working on Cole’s transport,” Missouri sighed but now understood why Pamela had told you and Dean to stay in the bunker for the three days following Dean’s birthday. It almost made her chuckle.

Hannah went back to entering the information into the form. There were a few different options to choose before sending it. This one, it got the highest priority mark possible—Life Threatening. That one wasn’t used lightly. The consequence for misusing it was instant termination. “All right. I forwarded a copy to the Collection Unit, Charlie, you, and the man in charge,” Hannah explained, looking back up at Missouri. “The Collection Unit should be in the briefing room in ten.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Missouri replied, smiling slightly to herself. 

Missouri stepped into the hallway, her thoughts on how things might end up going. Pamela hadn’t given her much to go on, but they’d make a plan for several different outcomes. What gnawed at her, though, was the question of how Walker had gotten ahold of the transfer details in the first place.

Five minutes before the scheduled time, Missouri stepped into the briefing room. The space was utilitarian, like the rest of the building—white walls, a long table surrounded by mismatched chairs, and a projector mounted to the veiling. A faint hum from the overhead lights filled the quiet as she set her notepad on the table and claimed a seat near the head.

The Collection Unit trickled in, one by one. Missouri didn’t need her abilities to sense the varying degrees of skepticism and readiness each member carried. A few nodded in her direction as they entered; others glanced at her with guarded curiosity. It wasn’t every day a report came down with a Life Threatening tag attached.

By the time Charlie slipped in with her ever-present energy drink in hand, the room was full. She gave Missouria a quick thumbs-up as she sank into a chair near the laptop plugged into the projector.

“All right, let’s get started,” said Victor Henriksen, the unit’s lead, as he entered last, a manila folder tucked under his arm. His no-nonsense demeanor fit the tone of the room. He didn’t bother sitting, instead standing at the head of the table and flipping open the folder. “We’ve got an urgent situation flagged for immediate action. Missouri, since this report originated from you, you’re up.” Missouri stood, her notepad in hand, and glanced around the room. “Earlier this morning, I filed a report based on a verified promotion from Y/N Y/L/N. The vision detailed an imminent escape involving Cole Vaught during his scheduled transport. If successful, this escape will lead to the death of Dean Winchester.”

A low murmur rippled through the room. Henriksen’s expression didn’t change, though his sharp gaze swept across the team.

“Cole Vaught?” One of the younger agents, Tyler, leaned forward. “Isn’t he already cuffed and scheduled for transport today?” “That’s correct,” Missouri replied evenly. “But Gordon Walker—yes, that Walker—is planning to intervene. He has the exact transport details and intends to help Cole escape.”

Charlie tapped a few keys on her laptop, and a projection lit up the far wall. A map appeared, showing the planned route and key points marked in red. “I reran the logistics with the updated intel,” she said, her voice taking on a professional tone. “This is the current route. Walker’s interference is most likely at these two choke points—one near the river crossing and the other at the fuel stop here.” She pointed to the red marks on the map. “Both are low visibility areas with easy access to secondary roads.”

“What’s the source of the intel?” Henriksen asked, his tone sharp but not accusatory.

“Y/N’s premonition, confirmed by Pamela Barnes,” Missouri said, meeting his gaze. “And we both know Pamela doesn’t confirm anything unless she’s absolutely sure.”

Henricksen nodded, his skepticism tempered by respect for Pamela’s track record. “Fair enough. What’s the plan?” Missouri straightened, that nagging feeling still in the back of her thoughts, which she wasn’t ignoring. “Knowing the transport has been compromised, emergency measures have been taken. Your team’s job is to collect Walker at the motel he’s staying in.”

Charlie clicked a few more keys on her laptop, the projection changing to a map of the motel and surrounding area, key points marked in red. “He chose a good location to stay in. This motel has windows in the bathrooms, allowing for a quick escape,” she began explaining, pointing out the spots on the map as she went.

“Walker has carefully alluded being pinned to any premonitions. This one, he can’t get out of and, so far, has no knowledge of. It’s a stealth mission. He can’t see any of you coming, or he’ll bolt before you get close,” she continued.

Charlie explained the specifics while Missouri quietly observed each person of the Collection Unit. To her dismay and relief, there was nothing that would lead to a leak coming from any of them. The room began to buzz with movement as the agents moved with purpose, Henrickson leading the way. They cleared out of the room quickly with a strict plan in place. “You think they’ll get him this time?” Charlie asked, not sure if she should be hopeful that things would work out.

Missour moved to stand next to her, her gaze shifting around the room for a moment before landing on Charlie. “Who has had access to the files regarding Cole?” she asked, her tone hushed and laced with concern.

Charlie looked up at her, slightly puzzled. “Just the ones that always do for cases like this. Why?”

Missouri sighed, knowing this would take more digging than a simple question. “I need you to trace who looked at files and then made phone calls from their personal numbers. Cross-reference it with the four other cases similar to Y/N’s. The missing soulmate name cases.”

Chalie’s face not only lit up, but realization finally dawned on her. “You think there’s a leak.”

“Keep it to yourself for now,” Missouri warned, her voice firm but quiet. “Just, find out for me,” Missouri told her, then headed out of the room. There was nothing more she could do now until she heard back from Charlie.

Missouri stood near the observation window on the third floor, arms crossed as she watched the activity on the landing pad below. The late morning sun glinted off the sleek, dark helicopter waiting on the concrete, its rotors turning lazily in anticipation of liftoff. Around it, agents moved with precision, securing the area and checking every last detail of the transport plan. 

It had been less than an hour since the report had been filed with Hannah. Due to the urgency of the case, Cole was being moved in the only way that guaranteed he couldn’t escape while the Collection Unit was moving into place to collect Walker. The heavy metal doors to the sub-levels creaked open, drawing her gaze. Missouri’s jaw tightened as she caught sight of him—Cole Vaught, hands and feet shackled, flanked by two heavily armed agents. His orange jumpsuit made him stand out like a beacon against the dull grays of the landing pad.

Even in the distance, Missouri could feel the simmering hatred rolling off him, a storm held in check only by the restraints and the grim determination of the men escorting him. He was dangerous, no doubt about that. Not just because of what he was capable of physically, but because of the devastation he would cause if he were free. Dean Winchester’s name was on the top of that list, thanks to Cole’s obsession with you and your empathic lineage.

Missouri pressed her lips into a thin line, her thoughts turning inward. Thanks to Pamela confirming what you’d seen in your premonition, she didn’t need the approval of the Director for this type of transport, even with such short notice. Even with the guarantee that no one could interfere with this type of transport, Missouri couldn’t shake that uneasy weight that settled in her chest.

Walker had to have inside help. There was no other way he could’ve gotten the original transport details so easily. The obvious conclusion pointed to a leak in their ranks, but identifying the culprit wasn’t going to be easy, even if only a handful of people had been involved with the logistics. 

Her gaze shifted back to Cole as the agents brought him closer to the helicopter. He moved with a cocky swagger, despite the chains, his head covered by a black cloth so he couldn’t even take in his surroundings. She knew he was smirking under the hood, could feel it radiating off him. It was the kind of expression that made her want to slap it off his face. He still seemed to think he was getting out of this, and that struck a nerve.

Missouri’s thoughts drifted to you and Dean. The two of you had been through so much already, and this wasn’t a burden either of you should have to bear. You’d had your parents ripped away from you by a family that only wanted you for your empathic lineage and your ability to have premonitions of things to come. Then there was Dean. A good man led astray by a vile woman who the Vaughts had paid to keep him as far away from you as possible until it was too late. Luckily, that had been stopped, thanks to a judge Missouri had spoken with, nudging things alone in the background. A small smile found her lips as she thought back to that day, months ago now, before your case had ever been presented. The judge never would have even looked at it, had it not been for Missouri’s call.

A tap on the window pulled her from her thoughts. Charlie stood there, holding a tablet. It wasn’t a company-issued device, and Missouri couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s resourcefulness. Missouri motioned for her to come closer, both women now watching as Cole was loaded onto the chopper. Neither woman spoke as the agents secured Cole in place, and then three of them joined the other three inside. Just as the helicopter began lifting into the air, Charlie turned to Missouri.

“Think this’ll work?” she asked, still not sure how things would turn out.

“It should,” Missouri replied before looking at the red-head. “Any luck?”

Charlie held the tablet so Missouri could see what had come up based on the key phrases she had put into her program to search the company’s entire database. “Nothing out of the ordinary on this one. Just the usual people involved with the cases you asked about.” 

Missouri nodded, appreciating Charlie’s determination. “What about the other thing?”

Charlie hesitated, then pulled up the other search she’d done. Only one name appeared. Missouri’s stomach dropped, as it was the one name she had been worried about but hadn’t let her thoughts drift completely in that direction. Neither woman spoke. The gravity of the name meant this needed to be handled very carefully. 

For a few moments, they just watched the helicopter as it ascended higher into the air. Missouri knew Charlie would keep this quiet until they could formulate a plan. They had to find out how to prove the information had been leaked.

“I’ll find you when my ghost program finishes retrieving what we need,” Charlie told her. Then, she headed back to her office, knowing it could take a few hours to get exactly what they needed.

—--------------------

The sub-level holding area was a stark contrast to the bustling activity above. Cold concrete walls absorbed sound, muffling every step and voice into an oppressive silence. It wasn’t designed for comfort, only control.

Gordon Walker was brought in with two agents flanking him, their grips firm on his arms. He moved willingly, almost casually, his head held high as though he were a guest rather than a detainee. The cuffs on his wrists and the chains at his ankles clinked with every step, but he carried himself as though they didn’t matter.

“Well, well,” Walker drawled, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet space. “Sub-level accommodations, huh? Didn’t know I rated the VIP treatment.” Neither agent responded, their expressions impassive as they led him to the intake area. A third agent stood waiting by a metal table, a clipboard in hand. Walke’s sharp eyes took in the layout, his smirk widening.

“Not much of a decorator, are you?” he remarked, nodding toward the bare walls. “Bet this place really gets the ladies swooning.” “Keep moving,” one of the agents barked, shoving him forward.

Walker stumbled slightly but recovered with an exaggerated grin. “Easy there, hero. You’re gonna bruise my delicate ego.” The intake procedure was swift and methodical. The agents removed his handcuffs and instructed him to strip. Walker complied without hesitation, though not without commentary.

“Usually, I get dinner first,” he quipped as he tossed his shirt onto the table.

One of the agents, a woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, didn’t so much as flinch. “Save it,” she said flatly, handing him the orange jumpsuit.

“Ah, prison chic,” Walker said, holding it up as though appraising a fine suit. “Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?” The agent ignored him, stepping back as he changed. Another agent ran a handheld scanner over his body, checking for hidden weapons or devices.

“You know,” Walker began, his tone conversational, “all this effort for little ol’ me. Almost makes me feel special. But let me save you some time—this isn’t gonna stick.” “Quiet,” the male agent said, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Walker didn’t stop. “No, really. You think slapping me in a cell changes anything? The game’s already in play, sweetheart. And spoiler alert—you’re losing.”

The woman agent stepped closer, her gaze cold and steady. “You talk too much, Walker.” He grinned, leaning in just slightly. “Oh, I haven’t even started, darling.” The cell door clanged open, cutting off whatever comeback he’d planned. Without ceremony, they led him inside, securing the door behind him with a sharp metal clang. Walked turned to face them, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Home sweet home,” he said, spreading his arms as he surveyed the tiny, windowless room. “You know, I’ve seen closets with more personality.” The agents left without another word, the heavy door sealing shut behind them. Walker’s smirk lingered as he lowered himself onto the hard cot, his back against the wall and his arms stretched across his knees.

He wasn’t worried. Not yet. This was just another move on the board, and Gordon Walker always played the long game.

—------------------------

Missouri had been watching from the observation room, her eyes fixed on the screens that covered the walls. Each monitor displayed a different angle, capturing every detail of Walker’s processing. She’d turned on the audio, listening to every word that spilled from his mouth. Walker really believed he was getting out of this, like he was untouchable, and his confidence grated on her. 

With a sigh and a flicker of hope, Missouri headed outside, where one of the Collection Team had parked Walker’s car. Henricksen stood nearby, flanked by three other agents. Missouri knew this was going to be difficult, as Walker had used several different techniques over the years to get out of premonitions that had been about him. 

“Ladies first,” Henrickson stated, gesturing to the car.

Missouri pursed her lips, steadying herself for any visions that would come from interacting with Walker’s belongings. She approached the car with measured steps, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. Letting out a breath, she reached for the driver’s side door handle. The moment her fingers touched the cool metal of the handle, a jolt of sensation shot through her. Flashes of chaotic images flooded her mind.

A dimly lit motel room. Walker pacing with his phone pressed to his ear, his voice love and conspiratorial. Papers spread across the bed, maps with routes circled in red. An array of tools placed neatly on the edge of the bed.

Missouri tightened her grip on the door, her knuckles whitening as she forced herself to sift through the barrage of impressions. Getting visions like this wasn’t always easy, but she’d honed the skill over the years.

A man’s voice, calm and authoritative, echoed faintly in her head. “You know the plan. Keep it clean.”

Walker’s smirk, his confidence unshaken, even as he replied, “When have I ever let you down?”

Missouri’s eyes snapped open, and she released the handle, taking a step back. She pressed a hand to her temple, grounding herself as the aftershocks of the vision faded. Henricksen was beside her in an instant, his brow furrowed. “What did you see?” he asked, his tone low but urgent.

She shook her head, her expression grim. “He’s been planning this since the court hearing. He’s got a contact—a professional, someone who knows how to play the system. I couldn’t get a clear look at his face, but Walker trusts him.” Henricksen’s jaw tightened. “Did you get anything useful? A name? A location?”

Missouri frowned. “Nothing that you didn’t confiscate already. Walker was confident, cocky even when they took him through processing. There has to be something else. Something he’s hiding.” One of the agents, a tall man with a no-nonsense air, spoke up. “If Walker’s that sure of himself, there’s gotta be more to this. Maybe there’s something in the car. He loves this thing. Walker said all sorts of choice words when I grabbed the keys to bring it here.” Henricksen nodded. “Search it. Every inch of it.”

Missouri stepped back as the agents moved in, opening doors and popping the trunk, searching with methodical precision. She crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on the car as they worked. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the vision in hopes of pinpointing more details. 

This wasn’t the first time Walker had been implicated in things, and Missouri didn’t believe in coincidences anymore. The other four cases, similar to yours. Sadly, even with the premonitions coming from reputable empaths, he’d been released. They had never been able to find anything that directly tied him to the things that were yet to happen back then.

Her thoughts were interrupted when one of the agents let out a sharp whistle. “Got something!”

Henricksen and Missouri moved closer as the agent held up a small, nondescript flash drive. It had been tucked in a secret compartment near the driver’s seat in the center console. If it weren’t for the thoroughness of the agent, the seamless hiding place wouldn’t have been found.

“Think you can get anything from this?” Henricksen asked, taking the thumb drive and handing it over to Missouri.

Missouri held it carefully, her fingers brushing the smooth surface. The faintest whisper of an impression tickled at the edges of her mind, but it was murky, incomplete. “Not here,” she finally said, choosing to keep information to herself at the moment. “You might be collecting someone else today. So, keep your team ready. I doubt there is more in the car, but be thorough, just in case.”

Henricksen nodded. “Understood” 

With a final glance at the car, Missouri turned, the flash drive clutched tightly in her hand as she headed back toward the building. There was no telling what secrets it had, but she knew one thing for certain: Gordon Walker wasn’t just playing a game. He was playing to win, and he wasn’t alone.

—-----------

Charlie had been sitting at her desk, taking care of regular day-to-day tasks as her ghost program ran on her personal tablet. She tended to get away with a lot more than others due to how smart she was. Most times, she thought better on her feet, in the moment when a plan was needed immediately. The name that had come up in her second search was lit up in her mind like a flashing neon sign. She wasn’t one to get involved in the close-to-home stuff. She preferred the safety of her desk, the predictability of her routines. But this?

Her nerves were on edge, and the slightest sound or knock on her door made her jump. Every now and then, her eyes would glance over at her tablet, watching as it would snag up another piece of evidence, then continue on its search. There were well over twenty documents it had found. If it had only found one, it would have been enough. 

A sharp knock on her door made her flinch. She relaxed only slightly when Missouri entered, her presence steadying. “Found anything yet?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

Charlie nodded toward the tablet, her expression grim. “Plenty. And if half of what’s on here is legit, we’re in deep trouble.”

Missouri joined Charlie behind her desk, discretely handing her the flash drive. “This was hiding in Walker’s car. It hasn’t been added to the official inventory yet. I need you to find out what’s on it.” she explained, glancing briefly at the cameras that watched the room. Cameras that were supposed to be there to keep everyone honest, but the leak had found a way around them.

Charlie's brows arched. She hadn’t gotten to break into something in a long while. It was almost like a game to her, and part of her missed it. She snatched it from Missouri’s fingers, then plugged it into her tablet. No point in altering anyone in the company as to what she was up to.

Missouri watched in silence as Charlie began another automated program to hack into the flash drive. Her fingers danced across the keypad on the screen, entering commands into her program as it began going through different types of encryption breakers. Missouri didn’t understand the language of computers, not like Charlie did.

In less than a minute, Charlie was smiling happily when the main directory for the flash drive popped up on her tablet. “Bingo,” she uttered, clicking on one of the folders.

“What do we have here?” Missouri asked, leaning a little closer.

Charlie didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes scanned the different file names, but they were only marked with a few letters followed by a set of numbers. They didn’t make much sense, at least not yet. Charlie clicked one of them open, quickly reading the information outlined. She plopped back against the back of her chair. “You wanted proof,” she practically chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

Missouri read over the document, her jaw clenching slightly. “What else is on there?” She needed to know just how far back it went. “Give me a minute,” Charlie replied, leaning forward, then clicking open other folders and other documents. “Emails, financial records, meeting logs. It’s all here. I’ve got the phone records from my ghost program. Looks like it goes back over thirty years” She leaned a little closer, then clicked on another folder marked with an innocuous label: Operations.

Charlie’s eyes went wide as she explored the folder, far too quickly for Missouri to keep up. “It looks like Walker is the face of whatever this shell company is,” her voice slightly trailing off. Records had to be kept somewhere, so keeping them on a flash drive made sense. Missouri didn’t even need to ask before Charlie was already working on the next step: tracing everything to its source.

“Keep this quiet. I need to talk to Henricksen. Is there anyone from the PP&P on the payroll?” Missouri asked, keeping her voice hushed. She needed to know who she could trust.

It only took Charlie a minute for a simple search such as that. “No. Just the one,” she answered without looking away from her tablet. Missouri gave Charlie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You know what to do.” 

This was a delicate matter, but it had to be handled quickly, before Walker slipped through their fingers, again. 

—-------------------

Dean stirred awake sometime after eight, and even with your side of the bed empty, a grin still lingered on his lips. Yesterday had been one for the books, and he was still savoring every moment of it. He stretched lazily, his muscles flexing before he let out a contented sigh, sinking back into the mattress for just a beat longer. There was almost a skip to his step when he got out of bed, doing his regular morning routine before he slipped on a pair of boxers and went looking for you. For the first time in a long time, life felt good, like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The living room caught his attention first—cleaner than the night before—but it wasn’t enough to stop him as he continued into the kitchen. You were sitting at the table, your back to him, but there was a slight tension to you that he couldn’t quite place.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart,” he murmured, stepping close to press a kiss to your cheek, his hand resting gently on your opposite shoulder.

You nearly jumped, not realizing you’d been lost in your thoughts. Dean would have found it adorable if he’d been using the bubble technique so he could surprise you. “Alright,” he said, dragging a chair beside you so he could face you directly. “What’s wrong?”.

Your eyes met his as his worry began radiating through the connection. “Get some coffee, and I’ll tell you,” you sighed, knowing that he needed to know.

He frowned, but the softness in your eyes soothed him in a way he’d never get tired of. It wasn’t how you’d wanted to start the morning with him, but perhaps it could still be relaxing after you explained things.

An hour later, the coffee was gone, and Dean sat on the couch, his arm draped protectively around you. His mind churned, piecing together what you’d told him. Pamela’s warning made more sense than it had the day she had given it a week ago. Since Missouri hadn’t called you back with any sort of update, you could only tell Dean about your premonition and the call from her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently, his eyes searching yours, worried you were keeping your emotions to yourself to shield him for some reason. When your gaze fell from his, he instantly knew.

Dean tugged you closer, wrapping you in his arms, his closeness grounding you like it always did. “Please don’t hide in that bubble. I know you don’t want me to worry, but when you pull back like that, I worry,” he said softly, a plea he hoped you’d understand.

What he couldn’t put into words were the emotions connected to them, and you felt them all as they made their way through the bond. Placing your hand over his heart, you took a shaky breath. “I just hate it when you worry,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed but found it a little endearing how you wanted to shield him from anything unpleasant. “You can’t keep me from worrying. I’m gonna do that regardless. The part that you can do is be there for me, like you have been. Like you are now, and my worry goes away, mostly,” he explained, chuckling a little at the end. Both of you were worrywarts, and you both knew it.

Pamela’s whispered words to him that day drifted through his mind again, “She’s gonna be okay. Both of you are. Just do what I said, and things will turn out like you’ve been hoping for.” He’d been trying to reassure you that things would be okay, but it was getting harder not to doubt that. Dean quickly shook the thought from his head, refusing to let anything take away his hope. “What do you say to having cake for breakfast like a couple of teenagers who snuck into the kitchen while their parents were sleeping?” Dean asked playfully, wanting to lighten the mood and make you smile again. 

You looked up at him, unable to keep from smiling, and a giggle slipped out when you caught the playful glint in his eyes. “Do I get my own piece this time?” you asked, being just as playful, grateful for the way he could just pull you out of things that threatened to consume you.

When that damned smirk found his lips, you already knew the answer to your question. “Nope. My cake. I get to do with it what I want,” he quipped before leaning a little closer. “If you’d let me, I’d eat it off of you and not use a plate,” the heat in his voice sent a thrill through your body and desire through the connection.

He chuckled at the way you responded, kissed you on the forehead, and then went to the kitchen to retrieve a slice of cake. One way or another, he was going to thoroughly enjoy these three days with you before the two of you could leave the safety of the bunker. Sure, there was still crap going on, but neither of you could actively do anything about it, and he was bound and determined to keep you smiling.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35 - Will be up as soon as I have it written. Thanks for being patient everyone.

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

@suckitands33 @mxtansy @scarletqueenx @krazykelly @roseblue373

@whimsyfinny @ladysparkles78 @aaathazagoraphobiaaa @hobby27 @perpetualabsurdity

@cicibunbuns @n-o-p-e-never @vanessa-boo @foxyjwls007 @uoberpmollah

@xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @kdadss @bitchykittenconnoisseur @reignsboy19

@bonbonnie88 @ghostieghoul711 @flamencodiva @kayleezee @stillhere197

@lexasaurs634 @enamoredwithbella @winchester-whiskey @brandinicole911

@megs-gadom @dianawinchester03 @nikimisery @cheekygirl2309 @ashleybutler

@deans-baby-momma @bobbdylan @tommysaxes @likedbygaslyy

If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.