#there is no way in hell she did not have some flashbacks in the mind flayer colony

[m4rv3l-girl]

Slowly…

Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while, but have yet to explore anything more intimate than making out like teenagers. Maybe things will change when Bucky finally faces his fears.

Warnings: smut. Oral f!recieving. Protected p in v sex. Slight fear of intimacy. Touch starved Bucky?

The hum of the Stark Tower HVAC system was basically white noise.

Bucky Barnes sat sprawled across the couch, one arm looped loosely around Y/N’s shoulders, the other cradling a steaming mug of chamomile tea. Both of them contently sleepy. The windows stretched tall across the living room wall, casting gold-tinged light from the setting sun over the exposed brick and sleek furniture, remnants of Tony’s compulsive over-design.

Y/N, nestled into Bucky’s side with a blanket tugged over both of their legs, sighed softly. Her head was tucked perfectly beneath his chin, like it belonged there. Bucky liked that. He liked that a lot more than he’d ever admit aloud. Especially since Sam would absolutely never let him live it down if he caught wind of Bucky Barnes being the little spoon. Again.

“You know,” Y/N said, voice low and thoughtful, “you’re actually not as terrifying as everyone makes you out to be.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, lifting his mug in mock salute. “Thanks, doll. I’ll make sure to update my LinkedIn.”

She laughed against his chest, the sound vibrating into his sternum and tugging a rare, genuine smile from him. “No, seriously. You’re... sweet. You hold the door open. You bring me coffee just the way I like it. You’re weirdly obsessed with The Great British Bake Off.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Oh, come on. You cried when Rahul won.”

He groaned, tilting his head back against the couch and covering his face with the vibranium hand. “I didn’t cry. I just - had feelings. That’s normal. Rahul is a very talented man.”

“You’re soft.”

“I’m six feet tall and made of war crimes.”

She snorted. “You’re my soft war crime.”

“Jesus Christ.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The kind that only came after months of slow trust-building, of soft confessions over late-night tea, of tentative hand-holding and the quiet awe in Bucky’s eyes when she didn’t flinch away from the cold press of metal fingers. It wasn’t perfect, Bucky still had nights where he woke up gasping, sweat-soaked and angry at ghosts only he could see, but Y/N never left. Never treated him like he was broken or dangerous. Just… human.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed being seen as human until she came along.

“You ever think about…” Y/N began, then paused, fingers tracing idle shapes along his thigh. “Us. Like, going further?”

Bucky blinked, the words taking a second to register through the sleepy haze.

“Further?”

She tilted her head to glance up at him, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Like… more than just kissing on your couch and pretending we don’t both want more.”

Oh.

Bucky’s breath hitched, but not from discomfort. Not exactly. More like the entire world had suddenly gone still and very, very focused.

He’d thought about it. Of course he had. He was a hundred and six years old, not dead.

But there was always a wall. Not one she had built. Y/N had never rushed him, but one he’d carried with him since Hydra carved up his mind like Thanksgiving turkey. Intimacy meant vulnerability. And vulnerability had always gotten him hurt or used.

“I do think about it,” he said finally, voice soft. “All the time, actually.”

Y/N shifted slightly, giving him room to see her expression. She looked open. Patient. Like she wasn’t expecting anything except honesty. That helped. That grounded him.

“But I also think about messing it up,” he admitted. “I think about what if I freeze up? Or what if I have some flashback in the middle of it and ruin everything?”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she said immediately. “You could never ruin this.”

He wanted to believe her. Hell, part of him already did. But old instincts didn’t die easily. He reached for her hand with his metal one, letting their fingers twine together. That felt real. Solid.

“I guess I just need to know you’re okay with taking it slow. That you don’t feel like you’re waiting for me to turn into someone else.”

Y/N’s smile was soft and fierce all at once. “Bucky, I didn’t fall for the Winter Soldier. I fell for the guy who leaves sticky notes on the fridge reminding me to drink water. Who calls Sam ‘bird brain’ like it’s a love language. Who watched all three Lord of the Rings movies with me even though he thought Frodo should’ve just used the eagles.”

“Don’t tell me I was wrong.”

She laughed, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay with slow. I’m okay with whatever pace you want. I’m here because I want you.”

Bucky let out a slow breath, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding bleeding from his shoulders. “Okay,” he murmured. “Then yeah. Maybe we take that step. Sometime soon.”

A beat.

The quiet stretched out like a warm blanket, thick with anticipation. Bucky’s thumb traced the line of her knuckles, and the room felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He knew he could say no. He knew she’d understand. But the way she said it - so gentle, so earnest - he couldn’t find the words to refuse.

“Soon,” she murmured, reading the hesitation in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready. I just - I want you to know that I’m here. That I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

Bucky nodded, his throat tight with emotions he hadn’t let himself feel in so long. It was strange, this feeling of safety, of belonging. It didn’t sit easily with him, but it was growing more familiar with every beat of her heart against his side. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“You make it easier, doll,” he said finally. “You make a lot of things easier.”

Y/N leaned into him, her arm curling around his waist. Her hair smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and mint toothpaste. The scent was comforting, like home.

“I’ll always be here for you, you know that,” she whispered, her breath warm against his neck. “For all the hard parts. And the easy ones too. For the baking shows and the bad jokes and the quiet nights just like this one. I’m all in, Bucky. Whatever it takes to help you feel whole again.”

The weight of her words settled into his chest, nestling in alongside his beating heart. It was a heavy burden, but somehow, with her, it felt lighter.

They watched the light change outside the window, the sky deepening into shades of purple and pink. The sounds of the city grew distant, swallowed up by their shared warmth. Bucky’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she curled into him, her hand coming to rest over his heart.

It was a promise. A silent vow.

He took a sip of his now lukewarm tea and sighed, the warmth of her against him a stark contrast to the cold metal of his arm. It was moments like these that made him feel alive, made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he could have a life beyond the shadows of his past.

“What’s the first thing you’d wanna do?” he asked, turning to look at her. Her eyes searched his, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. But all she’d find was the truth. The reality was that, at present, their sex life was non-existent.

Y/N thought for a moment, her expression softening into a smile. “I don’t mind….what would you want to do..?” She didn’t want to commit to something that he wasn’t comfortable with.

Bucky considered this.

"I just want to be with you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want to hold you, and kiss you, and just… explore. Nothing crazy, just… us. Getting to know each other that way."

Her smile grew, lighting up the room even as the shadows grew longer. "That sounds perfect," she whispered.

The air was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. He could feel the pulse of her heart beneath her palm, and he knew she felt his too, a steady rhythm that grew stronger with every breath they took together.

They sat for a while longer, just watching the day turn to night. Bucky's mind raced with the possibilities of what this could mean for them, but he forced himself to stay present, to enjoy the simplicity of their entwined fingers and the warmth of her body.

Eventually, Y/N sat up, her hand slipping away from his heart to rest on his cheek. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his, looking for any trace of doubt. But all she found was a man who was ready to take the next step.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s go slow. We’ll figure it out together. No pressure, just us getting to know each other more intimately. I’m here, Bucky. We’re in this together, remember?”

Bucky nodded, his pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be this open with someone, to let go of the fear that had become second nature. But with her, it felt possible.

They stood up, and he set the mug of tea down on the side table with a gentle clink. Y/N reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She led him to the bedroom, her movements sure and unhurried.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn just enough to allow the fading light to cast a soft glow over the bed. Bucky felt his heart rate spike as she turned to face him, her gaze never wavering from his own. She stepped closer, her hand sliding up to his chest, then around to his neck.

Her touch was tentative at first, a gentle question. But as Bucky leaned into it, she grew bolder, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her thumb brushing against his lower lip. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and she leaned in to capture his mouth in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise.

Her other hand slid down his side, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the heat between them growing with every second. The kiss deepened, and he felt the first stirrings of something he’d almost forgotten - desire, untainted by fear or duty.

When they broke apart, panting slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. He watched as she lifted it over her head, revealing the soft curves of her body.

He took a deep breath, his metal hand hovering over her bare skin for a moment before he let it rest gently on her waist.

Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for the answer to the unspoken question. Bucky nodded, his decision made.

They moved in unison, Bucky helping her to remove the rest of her clothing, his movements slow and careful, as if handling something fragile and precious. Each piece of clothing that fell away revealed more of her, and with it, a part of her soul that he hadn't seen before. Her trust in him was palpable, a silent demand that he not break her. And he knew, with a sudden fierceness, that he never would.

Her skin was warm under his touch, and she shivered as he traced the outline of her collarbone with his thumb. He felt his own heart racing, a thunderous beat that echoed in his ears.

They lay down on the bed, the mattress giving slightly under their combined weight.

Her eyes never left his, the same gentle expression on her face that had been there since the moment she’d brought it up. He felt the pressure of her hand, the softness of her skin, and the way her breath hitched as he kissed her again, his metal fingers brushing against the softness of her stomach. It was a strange sensation, this mix of cold and warm, of hard and soft, of past and present.

Bucky’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but he pushed them aside, focusing only on the here and now. He didn’t want to think about the past, didn’t want to ruin this moment with the specter of his former life. This was about them, about what they were choosing to build together.

He leaned over her, pressing tender kisses along her neck and collarbone, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. Her skin was like silk, and her scent was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and vanilla that he’d come to associate with home. Her breathy sighs were music to his ears, each one a silent encouragement to explore further.

Her fingers danced over his shoulders, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she guided him closer, urging him to explore. His heart hammered in his chest, a reminder of the life he had reclaimed, the humanity he had fought to keep.

Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were both trying to convey the depth of their feelings without words. Bucky’s hand traveled up her side, feeling the curve of her hip, the softness of her skin, the warmth that emanated from her core. He was acutely aware of every touch, every breath, the way she arched into his mouth when he kissed her just right. It was as if he was mapping out a new territory, one that was uncharted and full of wonder.

The room was filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the rustle of fabric, the quiet sighs that escaped their lips. Y/N’s hand slipped under his shirt, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. He stilled for a moment, waiting, but she didn’t pull away.

Bucky felt something unlock inside of him, a door that had been sealed shut for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. It was a rush of sensation, of need, that made his head spin and his heart race. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding down to the small of her back, pressing her closer.

Y/N’s legs parted, inviting him in, and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never been this intimate with someone who knew all of him, who had seen the darkest corners of his soul and chosen to stay. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He took a moment to breathe, to steady himself. He didn’t want to rush this, didn’t want to scare her away with his intensity. But when he pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, matching the pulse in his veins. She didn’t look scared. She looked hungry.

They moved together in a dance that was both new and familiar, their bodies speaking a language that didn’t require words. He felt the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves, the way she molded against him as if they’d been made for this. It was a revelation, a reminder that he was more than the sum of his parts.

Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of her underwear. He felt her shiver and knew that she was just as ready as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. This was it. The moment he’d feared and craved in equal measure. But with her, it didn’t feel scary. It felt right.

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, her eyes never leaving his. He raised his arms, letting her pull it off. The cool air of the room kissed his bare skin, making him shiver. She traced the lines of his abs with her fingertips, her eyes taking in every inch of him with a mix of awe and affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his ear.

Bucky felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a rare and welcome sensation. He’d never been one for compliments, but coming from her, it felt like the most profound truth he’d ever heard. He kissed her again, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

They moved together, exploring each other with gentle touches and whispered sighs. Bucky’s mind was a blur of sensation, each new discovery a revelation. The way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. It was like coming home after a long, cold war, finding warmth in the most unexpected of places.

He felt her hand on the elastic of his sweatpants, and he stilled for a moment. This was the part that had always been a minefield before. But she didn’t look up at him with fear or hesitation. Just love. So he let her continue, his breath catching in his throat as she touched him, skin to skin.

Y/N’s hand was warm and sure, and Bucky couldn’t help but gasp as she touched him, her thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband. The fabric was the last barrier between them, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

With a trembling hand, Bucky reached down to help her, his heart racing as he pushed his pants down. The coolness of the air against his skin was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and he watched as she took him in, her eyes wide and filled with a hunger that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t been in decades.

They kissed again, a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips, it was a declaration of trust, of love, of the shared hope that this could be the start of something beautiful. He felt her hand slide down, her fingertips dancing against his skin, until she reached the bulge in his boxers, and he let out a soft groan that seemed to resonate through the very core of his being.

Her hand was tentative at first, exploring his hardness with gentle strokes. But as Bucky’s grip tightened on the sheets and his breathing grew ragged, she grew bolder. Her touch was a whispered promise of what was to come, a gentle reminder that she was here for him, that he wasn’t alone.

He slid his hand down to cover hers, their fingers intertwining as they found a rhythm that sent shockwaves through his body. The warmth of her hand, the softness of her skin, the way she looked at him - it was almost too much to handle. But he didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, craving more.

With a tremble, Bucky reached for the clasp of her bra, his metal digits fumbling slightly. But she was patient, smiling up at him as he finally managed to free her from the garment. Her breasts were perfect in his eyes, the soft mounds fitting perfectly into his palms. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, watching as they pebbled beneath his touch, and she gasped into his mouth. The sensation of skin against skin was electric, sending currents of pleasure through him that he hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like he’d feared. It was gentle, it was kind, it was everything he’d hoped for.

He broke the kiss to kiss his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach. He took his time, savoring each new inch of her that was revealed to him. Y/N’s breath hitched as his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, his tongue tracing a line along her inner thigh before dipping closer to where she was wet and waiting for him. He felt a small twist of doubt and self consciousness, he hadn’t actually done this since the 40s.

Her legs fell open to encourage him, and Bucky took a moment to breathe her in, to appreciate the trust she was giving him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She assured. He kissed her gently, his tongue teasing against her slit, her taste a rich mix of sweetness and desire. Y/N’s body arched off the bed, and she let out a soft moan, her hand sliding into his hair to guide him, to show him just how she liked it.

Bucky took his cues from her, his touch gentle and explorative. He’d never been with someone who knew the extent of his past, who had seen the monster he’d been made into. But here she was, her body open to him, welcoming him in. Her thighs trembled around his head as he worked his way down. His tongue found the spot that made her gasp. She was wet, slick against his mouth and he groaned, his cock pulsing with every soft whimper she made.

He could feel the tension coiling in her, tightening like a spring. Her hips began to move in time with his strokes, her breath coming in short and sharp gasps. He didn’t know how to do this, not really. But he knew he wanted to make her feel good. So he listened to her body, her sounds, her whispers of need. He focused on her reactions, learning what she liked, what made her squirm, what made her moan.

Small, quick flicks of his tongue over her clit seemed to send her reeling.

Y/N’s hands tightened in his hair as he worked her over, her body shaking with the force of her restrained pleasure. He could feel it building, the way she moved against his mouth, her legs tightening around his head, her breaths turning to pants. Her nails scraped against his scalp, a delicious pain that only served to drive him on, to make him want more, to make her feel more.

And then she was coming, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, her muscles clenching around his tongue. Bucky felt a surge of pride, of accomplishment, of pure, unadulterated joy.

He pulled back, kissing his way back up her body, feeling her pulse throb against his lips. She was beautiful, so beautiful, laid out before him like this. “Bucky,” she breathed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with pleasure. He leaned over her, his forehead touching hers. “You’re sure?” he whispered. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Bucky reached for the bedside drawer, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled out a condom. He’d had them there for months, hopeful and terrified, but they’d remained untouched. The foil packet crinkled in the quiet room, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the wake of their shared intimacy. Y/N watched him, her eyes never leaving his face, her trust in him unwavering. He rolled it on, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest, the echoes of fear that had haunted his every intimate moment. But as he positioned himself over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, he knew he could do this. For her, with her, he could overcome his worries.

He pushed inside her, slowly.

The world outside the window had gone dark, but the room was bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Her eyes were wide, watching him with a mix of excitement and concern, and he knew he had to get this right. For her, for them. Her heat enveloped him, and he felt his own walls crumbling, the last of his barriers falling away. He’d never felt this connected to anyone before, not like this. It was as if they were two lost pieces of a puzzle finally finding their place.

Their movements grew more frantic as the passion built, their kisses deep and desperate. Bucky felt the ghosts of his past trying to claw their way back in, but he pushed them away, focusing solely on the woman beneath him. Her nails dug into his back, her legs tightening around him as she matched his rhythm, urging him on.

The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of sighs and gasps and moans. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, each kiss a promise to keep her safe. Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest, a drumline of hope and desire. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like the horrors he’d anticipated. It was raw and real and everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Her nails scored down his back as she arched up to meet him, her breaths growing shallower, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Bucky felt the tension in her body, the way she tightened around him, the soft mewling noises that escaped her throat. He’d never felt so alive, so present in the moment. Each stroke was a promise, a declaration that he was here, with her, and nothing else mattered.

Their bodies moved in harmony, a dance that transcended the chaos of the world outside. His metal hand found hers, their fingers entwining as if to anchor themselves in the present. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch, the way she clung to him as if he were her lifeline. And maybe, in a way, he was.

The world narrowed down to just the two of them, the only sounds the slap of skin and the harsh pull of their breathing. Bucky’s eyebrow was furrowed. He watched her face, the way her lip got pulled between her teeth in concentration, the softness of her cheeks flushed with passion.

Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she neared the precipice again.

Their passion was palpable, a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his, and in that moment, something changed. He saw her, not just the woman he desired, but the person who had seen his darkest moments and chosen to love him regardless. And she saw him, not as the damaged soldier, but as the man who had fought to survive and come back to life.

Their movements grew more deliberate. Bucky’s rhythm slowed, his strokes deepening, as if trying to etch himself into her very being. He felt her inner walls quiver, a sign that she was close, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. But he wanted to give her everything she needed, to show her just how much she meant to him.

Y/N’s breath was a pant on his skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He leaned in, pressing kisses along her jaw, her neck, the soft skin of her collarbone. They were both hurtling uncontrollably towards the edge…

Her body tensed around him, a silent plea, and Bucky knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He thrust into her, feeling her nails dig into his back as she cried out his name, her body shattering into a thousand pieces. He watched her come undone, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure that sent him over the edge.

With a guttural groan, he followed her, his orgasm tearing through his muscles, leaving him trembling and spent. He collapsed onto her, his heart hammering against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The warmth of her body was like a medicine to his soul, a gentle reminder that he was more than just a weapon, that he was loved.

They laid there for a few moments, their hearts beating in sync, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the blanket around them. Bucky felt the warmth of her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the reality of what they had just shared settled heavily on him. It was a moment that had been months in the making, a moment where fear had been vanquished by love and trust.

He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t help but trace the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the heated skin under his fingertips. He’d never felt more alive, more human, than he did in that moment.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a softness that made his chest ache. “More than okay,” she said, her voice a whisper.

He leaned down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips. Her hand slid up his chest, her touch featherlight and reverent. It was as if she knew just how much this meant to him, just how much of a milestone it was.

They lay there, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still slick with sweat. Bucky’s mind was racing, but in a good way. He’d done it. He’d faced his fears and come out the other side. And she was still here, her arm wrapped around his waist, her breathing evening out as she snuggled closer to him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough from their earlier exertions. Y/N opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. “For what?” “For making it okay,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “For making me feel like I can do this. Like I’m not just some… some broken toy that nobody wants to play with anymore.”

Her eyes had a glassy pain in them. “Bucky, you’re so much more than that. You always have been. And I want to play with you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

——————————————————————————————————

A small gift 🎁🫶 (We’re ignoring mistakes)

[explicit-tae]

Repent (2)

“I want you to fill me.” Part One @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111 @investedreader @hoseokteardrop @azaoood @luvbug089 @sappy033

Word Count: 3.872

Warning: kissing, smut, slight dirty talking, shy boy jungkook duh, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving),

Kinktober Masterlist

“And you didn’t bend her over and fuck her stupid?!” Hoseok yells into the phone that prompts Jungkook to lower the volume.

“You’re…not helping. You guys never help.” Jungkook sighs, squeezing his phone in the palm of his hand until it turns a lighter shade of white. “It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about a girl wanting to fuck you?” Taehyung snickers. “She’s practically throwing herself at you.”

You’re all Jungkook can think about. His entire focus is on you. After he’s left your room that night, his mind would replay the sinful flashbacks of your naked body. The sounds of your voice and your breathy moans replay in his thoughts.

It’s the following day now and Jungkook had to start his day with a cold shower as his thoughts were, once again, on you. Your body is so soft, he remembers, and his palms longs to touch it once more. 

Jungkook understands - a bit - that you did want him. You wanted him to, as you say, fuck you. You had a deep desire to get through him for the following few days on this retreat and he’s going through different stages of disbelief. 

No woman has ever sought Jungkook out in such a way. Yet again, if they had it was possibly subtle. You, however, came off extremely more blunt - you know exactly what you want from him and you were determined to get it.

That is what frightened Jungkook. He has been sheltered the majority of his life. He was raised to be a holy religious man who had to bury the deep desires he held for the opposite sex outside of marriage. He had already sinned when he slept with his first girlfriend and repented the situation entirely. He doesn’t understand how to handle such a strong woman such as yourself.

Jungkook has come to realize that his friends weren’t the same as him - as much as he adored and appreciated them. They weren’t raised as strict with religion as he was and sometimes he would be the topic for them to laugh at, but they never meant any true harm. 

“Sex is amazing when you don’t have some over religious person in your ear telling you that you’ll burn in Hell if you partake in it.” Jungkook recalls Yoongi telling him over the phone.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. He was a man and it was normal to have urges. Maybe his friends were right for once. He hadn’t been like them in his youth - fucking everything that would allow them to. He was more reserved and stuck to one girlfriend and look where that’s gotten him now.

“Long night?”

Jungkook blinks, unaware when he’s gotten to the large cafeteria. He must’ve zoned out the entire walk here, his mind jumping and unable to focus on anything.

Swallowing, Jungkook turns his eyes to Meana. She offers a soft smile to him. “Is it obvious?” Jungkook jokes. 

“You look so out of it. Did you have a nightmare?” Meana takes the seat beside him.

Meana is someone he’s known for years now. She has attended the same church as him since they were both children and he recalls the countless times your grandmother would bake the most delicious cookies for all the children every weekend. It’s a memory he cherishes, though now he ponders why you never were a part of the church.

“Ah, no.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Jungkook’s ear tints and he immediately shuts his mouth. He doesn’t want Meana to think otherwise of him.

Jungkook feels an arm around his neck and he stiffens. The familiar aroma swirls through his nose and his heart begins to pound. 

“Kookie, hey.”

Your voice causes Jungkook’s throat to swell. Your cheek crashes against his as you bring him to a hug, your eyes only glancing at Meana for a moment. 

Meana watches the way Jungkook slowly turns towards you, doe-like eyes wide and full of shock.

You smile, teeth flashing at Jungkook kindly. “How have you been?” you ask him, lashes batting at him cutely. As if you didn’t know how he’s been - as if you didn’t cause him to think about all the bad things he wished he could’ve done with you last night. 

“I-I’m fine.” Jungkook nods his head, blinking a few times to stop his idiotic staring. 

“You sure?” 

Jungkook stiffens once more when he feels your hands on him. You brush his hair from his forehead.

“You look like you’ve had a rough night.” You tilt your head, glancing once more at Meana who still has her eyes on you and Jungkook. As your eyes meet hers, she cowers; much similar to Jungkook. You want to laugh at how uptight these people were

Jungkook gulps.

“It was a rough night.” Jungkook murmurs. “I…I hope today is better.”

As your hand lowers from Jungkook’s forehead, your finger glides past his lips before you nod your head in agreement.

“I hope so, too.” you say. 

Jungkook finally notices your attire and possibly the reasons for the looks you’d often get. Your shorts are tight and they make your legs appear longer. Your shirt is a bit loose and it has a graphic design on it, one Jungkook recognizes.

“Rob Zombie.” Jungkook nods his head to your shirt with a low grin.

You furrow your brows. Your hands go through your short pockets to take out a small tube of lipgloss. “You know Rob Zombie?” you ask, an amused tone in your voice. “Church Boy Kookie…you’re full of surprises.”

Your Grandmother, though a religious woman, never forces anything down your throat. She would offer you to come to Church sessions and you always declined. While she was never upset, you understood that you couldn’t always decline her offers. This is how you found yourself on a retreat and now you’re ecstatic that you agreed.

You wore the shirt simply because you enjoyed the controversy; the eyes on you as if you were such a terrible person who worshiped the devil. It’s laughable, honestly, and you enjoyed every second of it.

Jungkook couldn’t tear his eyes away as you begin to coat your lips with the shimmery gloss, a bite of his tongue to stop his mouth from hanging open slightly.

“Want some?”

Jungkook blinks a few times, the tips of his ears reddening. “N-No-”

“Not you, silly. Meana.”

Meana visibly yelps at the sound of her name being called from your lips. She’s embarrassed, as well, by how close her eyes had been staring at you. 

“I…I um,” Meana stammers with a shake of her head. “No. Thank you.”

You turn your eyes back to Jungkook. “I’m going to go help my Grandmother. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Yeah…”

You stand, flashing another grin. “I hope to see you, too, Meana.” you speak to the quiet, mousy-like girl.

The day drags on and once again, you plague his mind entirely. His eyes follow you as you walk around besides your Grandmother who looks just as happy as you are that you’ve finally joined her church events. 

Jungkook does what he always does. He volunteers to help the kids with their arts and crafts, taking their pictures to show them. He draws along with them to get his mind off of you.

Of course, Jungkook could never get his mind off of you. It would be easier if you weren’t always in the background of everywhere his eyes turned. The children were intrigued by you and your storytelling and he found himself snapping a few pictures of them surrounding you.

During the congregation was when you found yourself beside Jungkook once more. He’s leaning against a wall all the way in the back. He’s realized that he doesn’t deserve to sit in the front where he usually would - especially not with the thoughts he’s gone through lately.

“Church boy Kookie…” you trail off, whispering loud enough for him to hear. “I’ve never seen you back here before.” you would know as you’re always lingering in the back, bored out of your mind.

Jungkook doesn’t respond but he does offer you a glance.

“Can I show you something?” you ask once more, your arm touches his. “I’m bored and you…” you tilt your head. “...well you aren’t focusing on anything lately.”

Jungkook swallows once more. So you’ve noticed. He‘s questioning himself now because if you noticed his clouded mind then who else has? 

You walk around Jungkook and out of the door, not waiting to see if he would follow you. You knew he would.

Jungkook does.

You walk further and further into the tall, forested area. The trees are high and there’s only a slight breeze that causes the branches to sway.

“Where are we going?” Jungkook questions, attempting to catch up with your fast strides.

Jungkook feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He sighs. Now was not the time for his friend's banter. He proceeds to take his phone from his pocket and sigh even harder that it just wasn’t one friend calling - but all of them.

“Who’s calling you?”

Jungkook stops abruptly and nearly shrieks. He’s unaware that you stopped directly in front of him with curious eyes. 

“M-My friends.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll decline-”

“No.” you shake your head. “Answer it. Don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook is uncertain but he follows your orders anyways. He answers the call with a sullen ‘hello’.

“We have a solution to your girl troubles!”

Jungkook shakes his head with wide eyes. “I don’t-”

“I say.” Hoseok starts. “you just fuck her instead of pissing your pants at the sight of her. That’s my solution.”

Jungkook squeezes his phone, unable to form the correct words. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide. 

“Please stop-”

“Shut up, Kook. Are you really going to let a hot girl like her go? Who knows when you’ll get laid again.”

You were going to hate him now that you know he's talked about you to his friends. You probably think he’s a scared little puppy that can’t do anything himself. You were probably disgusted with him as he speaks at his lack of guidance. 

Jungkook allows his eyes to look up at you. ���Y/N, I-”

“Kookie.”

The line goes quiet, as does Jungkook. 

“Who are you talking to?” You say, stepping closer to him so his friends could hear that Jungkook was indeed with you. You admit they were a hilarious bunch who were just trying to get their friend laid.

There’s a few murmurs coming from the phone as Jungkook struggles to respond to you. His friends obviously heard you. Were you attempting to help him?

“No one…?” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I-I gotta go.” Jungkook says into the phone and hangs up before he gets any more humiliated by his friends. “Sorry about that. I don’t talk about you to them often I-”

You press a finger against Jungkook’s lips, furrowing a brow. “I think you should listen to your friends more often, Kookie.”

Jungkook can hear his heart pounding outside his chest.

“Let’s sit, yeah?”

Jungkook can only nod. You two aren’t that far from the cabins, but alone enough to not draw any attention. He proceeds to sit down on the grassy trail and up against a tree. He expects you to do the same, yet he isn’t sure why. You’re always unpredictable.

You take your seat directly onto Jungkook’s lap, thighs caging him between you. 

“You’re so cute.”

Your hands lay on Jungkook’s shoulders, taping playfully as you slowly trailed them up his neck and onto both sides of his cheeks. 

“But I know deep down inside of you is a man that wants to fuck me.” 

Your words, so lewd and hot; just like you. 

“What’s stopping you?” you murmur. You’re so close to him that your breath tickles his nose. It smells minty as if you were just chewing gum.

What was stopping Jungkook?

You and he were adults; consenting ones. You knew he wanted you and you made it evident that you wanted him in more ways than one. 

“Have you done anything…bad before?” you ask. “Nothing too bad. Just something a little risky?”

Slowly, you watch Jungkook shake his head. “What do you consider risky?”

“Risky…” you begin, your glossy lips shimmering underneath the sun. “...is me sucking your cock out here when anyone can walk by.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath in an attempt to keep his cool, but he’s having a hard time. 

“The look of pure shock on their face to see Church boy Kookie fucking my mouth.” you giggle at the sign of his red cheeks. “Wanna try?”

Jungkook stammers, his forehead lining with sweat. He doesn’t know how to handle you. Each day you grow more determined to corrupt the man that’s Jeon Jungkook and he’s not one to fight you off; even if his moral compass is screaming that doing this with you was wrong. You and he weren’t married nor a couple; it was a sign of disrespect to you.

“I-I don’t want you to assume that I think lesser of you!”

You blink.

“That…that…all you are to me is a way to be…risky?” Jungkook hopes he’s making sense to you. “I want you to be…a friend to me, too.” his voice is meek and shy, his eyes gleaming with possibilities.

You blink again. Jungkook was so cute. 

“I’m sure we can be besties.” you wink at him, an action Jungkook finds cute. “That does other things.”

You connect the gap between you and Jungkook, pressing your glossed lips against his. Your lips are sticky but sweet, tasting like blueberries. 

Your hands are soft onto his cheeks, ensuring he doesn’t push himself away - and he doesn’t plan on it.

Jungkook is unsure where he puts his own hands and this allows you to help him. Your left hand removes from his check to grasp his wrist and place it onto your hips. You tap it slightly, giving him full access to whatever he wants to feel.

Jungkook is hesitant, but he follows your lead. His hands grip onto your hips, moaning against your soft lips. 

The soft kisses soon turn to a makeout session, your delicate hands roaming Jungkook’s broad chest.

Jungkook’s hands roam up your sides and around your back, wanting to feel more of you. Even now as the two of you were fully clothed and he technically saw you naked, the crave he has for you only grows higher and higher. 

You pull yourself away from Jungkook, snorting when you notice his plush lips are full of gloss.

“You said you’ve done things with other girls?”

Jungkook begins to nod. He was growing anxious at your question. He hasn’t done a lot - especially not with more than one girl.

“Hm.” you peck his lips gently. “What have they done to pleasure you?”

Taking a short breath, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Regular…stuff…?”

Once more, Jungkook is so cute to you. Knowing him, he hasn’t experienced foreplay. You recall hearing some religious people only experience sex to procreate and you truly hoped that was a lie.

“Hm…” you bat your eyelashes at him. “...I’ll show you regular stuff with me.”

Jungkook nodded his head, only a bit embarrassed how eager he was to see it. 

You decide to take things slow - for now. You peck his lips, then his cheek, down his jaw. You get to his neck, slightly inhaling the scent of his cologne. It’s faint and smells a bit earthy; a scent that does scream Jungkook. It’s subtle.

“You’re hard.” you state at the nape of his neck.

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak; to apologize for his behavior as the two of you were just supposed to be kissing, surely. “S-Sorry-”

“That’s a good thing! I need you to be aroused, Kookie.” you grin, pulling yourself away from him to bat your eyelashes once more. “It’s easier to suck your cock this way.”

Jungkook nearly explodes at your lewd words. He begins to stammer now, his mind plagued with just the thought of you doing that.

You move fast in case Jungkook attempts to stop you, your halls falling onto his waist. You undo the button, eyes flashing up at his flushed face. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” you tease, a hint of amusement in it. You didn’t want the poor boy to think you were going to laugh at him. You and he were friends now, after all.

Jungkook thinks he is, too. He’s long past the idea that this was a dream as this was far too good to just be a dream. 

“Do you not want me to?”

Your hands rest on top of his bulge. It jolts at the impact, a sign that he did want you to. 

“I-If you want.” Jungkook responds meekly, your eyes captivating him deeper and deeper into the essence that was you. “I don’t want to force you into it.”

Your lips jerk upwards, another attempt to not appear like you’re going to laugh in the poor boy's face. Jungkook was just too cute - a soft individual in a hot man's body. It makes you want to do this - and much more - because of how meek and shy he is. Even now as you lay your hand on his cock, obviously wanting to shove it in you did he feel as though he was the one that was possibly forcing you into anything.

“Tell me, Kookie.” you squeeze the clothed cock in your hands. “Just say it. Tell me you want me  to suck your cock. It isn’t hard.”

Jungkook hears it - it’s faint. There’s music coming back from where the two of you were just at. There was only about 10 minutes left of the congregation until everyone was released. Kids would be running through these very same woods. He couldn’t allow the two of you to be caught like this.

“I…I want you to,” Jungkook gulps, his cock twitching embarrassingly in the palm of your hands. You were forcing such filthy words from his lips - words that his friends would only pat him on the back for saying. “...want you to suck my cock. Please.” he adds softly, cheeks a dark shade of red.

“Good boy.” you murmur, not hesitating. 

You push down his underwear to reveal his cock. It’s prettier up close, you think. Now you actually have the chance to see it as last time you were only grinding onto it. It’s begging for attention, veins slightly pulsing and pink tip leaking already with pre-cum.

Jungkook squeezes his palms into fists when he feels your tongue lick the tip of his cock like a lollipop, your eyes fixed on his. You were going to kill him, he thinks. He was going to die here with you sucking his cock.

You take Jungkook into your mouth, tongue wrapping fully around the tip of his cock. If this was his first blowjob, you’d go slow; for now.

Jungkook isn’t sure he could handle it. He gets used to the sensation of your warm, wet tongue on him. He moans softly, thinking that he could survive this.

Then you take Jungkook’s cock fully into your mouth and he realizes that you were only going easy on him and now…

Now Jungkook isn’t sure if he’s going to survive this. You aren’t holding back anymore. Both of your hands are on either side of him as you suck onto his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time. 

Your eyes look up at Jungkook once more, slightly amused that the man appears to be in pure bliss. His eyes are fluttering, trying so badly to remain open. His mouth is agape and he’s releasing panting moans, chest rising and falling. 

You continue to suck, the sound of your slurping only growing louder with each passing moment. You now wrap a hand around his length to jack him as you do, to speed up the process - and to tease him some more.

Jungkook’s thighs are shaking as you appear to only suck harder and faster, determined to make him cum. This was his first blowjob after all and by the looks of it, he was enjoying it. You’ll give him something to talk about with his friends later.

You pop Jungkook’s cock from your lips, your fist squeezing the base as you jack him up and down. Jungkook sighs in release, unaware how long he’s been holding his breath for. He thanks God, how ironic, that you’ve slowed down. 

“I-I…” Jungkook isn’t sure what he wants to say in the slightest. 

“Do you wanna cum in my mouth?” you ask him.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. You were too much for the poor man to handle. 

“Or you can cum on my face.” you suggest just for a reaction out of him. “I prefer the mouth seeing as we’re in the woods.” you say, once again squeezing his cock. “But maybe another time you’ll get to cum on my face, yeah?”

You don’t allow Jungkook to answer. You pop his cock right back into your mouth and suck harder than before, jacking him aggressively to send him over the edge you knew he’d soon be over. Your eyes are on him, enjoying the squirming and hisses coming from his sweet lips.

“Are you…are you sure?” Jungkook stammers, cheeks flushed. His eyes open and stare into your own and for a moment you see the glimpse of the man Jungkook could be. Dark eyes clouded with lust and completely into the moment.

You nod your head slightly, tongue laying flat as you suckle onto his cock. You had to admit that right now you wanted Jungkook inside of you - but this isn’t about you right now. You had to ease the man into it. This was a whole new world to him.

Jungkook doesn’t hold back anymore, allowing the cum to shoot right into your suckling mouth. The slightly salty cum hits the back of your throat in such an abundance that you had to pull him out of you to swallow it all, and even then there was more. It drips down the corners of your mouth.

Jungkook takes a moment to catch his breath, his thighs twinkling every few moments. Slowly, he opens his eyes to look at you. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook breaths. “That was probably too much.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and snort. “You’re such a dork, Kookie.” you respond.  “I’m going to go clean myself up. There’s only about a few minutes left in congregation.” you speak. “Wanna join me?”

Jungkook nods meekly, going to fix himself, as well. His heart rate is out of control and he feels as though he’s floating at the moment. 

You link your arms with Jungkook as you begin to walk back towards the cabins. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me, Kookie.” you sing-song casually. “I saw the look in your eyes. I know you're capable.”

Jungkook swallows as he couldn’t wait either.

Part 3

[ateezscupid]

─── Into It - PT.2 ♡

SUMMARY / Yunho made it clear that he only saw you as a fan he could hookup with whenever he wanted, so you dropped all contact with him, even though it hurt like hell.

warnings ✩ SMUT, A LOT OF ANGST, DOM/SUB dynamics, hurt with no comfort (beginning), unestablished relationship (situationship basically), idol!yunho, atiny!reader, yunho was an asshole in the flashback, switch!yunho, switch (dom leaning)!fem reader, humiliation, choking, reader gets a little rough, unprotected sex, hate sex

word count ✩ 3,71K

tags ✩@desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @lezleeferguson-120 @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

NOTE !! Part two to Into It (PT.1) also, unrelated, which do yall prefer me use? "come" or "cum", because i use the terms interchangeably!!

"Tell me," he says, "How many posters of me do you have at home?"

His voice kept ringing in your head, no matter how hard you tried to forget. The question was like a knife twisting in your heart, a painful reminder of your naivety.

"It's just a little fun. You're not actually into me, are you?"

It wasn't just a "little fun" to you. You had actually fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But Yunho, the heartthrob singer of your favorite boy band, had made it abundantly clear that you were nothing more than a conquest to him. Each time he'd texted you, the butterflies in your stomach had taken flight, but his words had always come crashing down like a storm.

"You're just another notch on my belt, and you're acting like this is something special."

Did he really mean that? You felt like your entire world had crumbled around you. The walls of your bedroom seemed to close in as you stared at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You had been so blind, so stupid to think that someone like him would see you as anything more than just a fan.

You reach for your phone and unlock it, opening the messages app and staring at his contact. You told yourself you'd block him, but you couldn't get yourself to do it. Instead, you scrolled through the messages, each one a stinging reminder of his coldness, his arrogance. But amidst the hurtful words, there were moments of sweetness too, the kind that had kept you hooked. The way he'd called you "his little secret," the gentle way he'd kissed your forehead, the times when he'd held your hand in public, allowing you to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something more. But the reality was stark and painful. He was playing a game with your heart, and you were the one getting played.

He didn't even text you after you stormed out that night, and weeks after, you still hadn't received a single message. The silence was deafening, but it was also freeing. You began to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart, gluing them back together one by one. Each day, the pain lessened a little more, and you started to realize that maybe there was a reason why it had to end.

But what would happen if…he did text you? God, you knew you'd be quick to text him back. Just one more time, you'd tell yourself, just to see if he'd change his tune. But you didn't want to go through that emotional rollercoaster again. You took a deep breath, bracing for the inevitable. And then you hit block. The feeling was strange, like cutting off a limb. But it was done. You had officially closed that chapter of your life.

The next morning, after your all-night crying session, you went to get some coffee from your favorite cafe that was only a few blocks away, and you didn't mind walking. The cool breeze brushed against your tear-stained cheeks as you stepped outside into the early dawn. The quiet of the deserted street was a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. You had made up your mind; you would move on.

You walked in and the barista, a girl named Mina who knew you by name, greeted you with a smile. "The usual?" she asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the puffiness around your eyes. You nodded, trying to put on a brave face. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of comfort.

"You look like you had a rough night." she chuckled trying to lighten the mood, and you just barely smiled. "You doin' okay?"

"No." you gulp. "Yu- um, a situationship I was in ended pretty…badly."

Mina's eyes softened, "Oh honey, I'm sorry to hear that." She paused before speaking again, "But maybe it's for the best, y'know?"

"I guess." you murmured, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. "I really liked him though, and he kinda acted like I didn't matter to him."

Mina nodded sympathetically as she handed you the cup of coffee. "Well, you're worth more than being someone's "situationship". You're amazing, and you deserve someone who's going to treat you like it."

You took a sip, letting the warmth spread through you. It was a bit too bitter for your taste, but today it somehow felt fitting. "Thanks," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you turned to leave, a man walked into the cafe. He had on a beanie and a mask, so you couldn't really make out what he looked like. But something about the way he held himself seemed familiar. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he approached the counter, and you found yourself frozen in place, watching him. It couldn't be, could it? But as he took off his mask to sip his drink, your heart skipped a beat. It was Yunho.

Your first instinct was to run, to hide, to avoid the pain that seeing him would surely bring. But instead, you found yourself rooted to the spot, your eyes glued to his every move. He looked up and met your gaze, and for a brief moment, it was as if time had stopped. His eyes widened in surprise, and you could see the recognition dawn in them. He didn't look away.

No. No, you weren't going to do this. He told you straight to your face that you were basically just a toy to him! You gulp and force yourself to turn around and walk out, but your legs felt like lead. You could feel his eyes on your back, and your heart was racing so fast you could hear it in your ears. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe he had the audacity to show up in the same cafe where you had just confessed to moving on from him.

You tried to walk as fast as you could. You looked back, he wasn't there. You decided to slow down. Maybe he didn't see you. But as you took a step, you heard the bell on the door jingle. You turned around and saw Yunho standing there, looking at you with a mix of surprise and something else, something you couldn't quite place. Your heart hammered in your chest as he started to walk towards you.

He took his mask off and rushed toward you. Instinctively, you turn and rush off. Just make it home. That was all that was on your mind. But as you stumbled down the street, the sound of his footsteps grew closer. Panic began to set in. You didn't want to deal with this. You didn't want to talk to him.

"Y/N!" He yelled and you refused to answer, speed walking away from him. You didn't know how he recognized you, but the sound of your name on his lips made you want to crumble.

You quickened your pace, the sound of his sneakers slapping against the concrete echoing in your ears. The early morning light cast long shadows and the cool air stung your eyes, making them water. You couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from the tears threatening to fall.

"Y/N, please!" Yunho's voice grew more urgent as he followed you, closing the distance between you. You could hear the desperation in his tone, but you didn't dare look back. The ache in your chest grew with every step, but you couldn't let him see you cry again. Not after everything.

"Y/N-"

"What, Yunho?!" you finally snapped, whirling around to face him. Your voice was shaky, betraying the wall of composure you had so carefully constructed around your fragile heart.

He stopped in his tracks, panting slightly from the chase. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw regret. But it could have just been the shadows playing tricks on you.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air. "I didn't mean any of those things. I was just…scared."

"Yeah, right." The words spilled from your lips, thick with skepticism. "You expect me to believe that? After the shit you said? You basically told me you only talked to me for sex!"

"Okay, I get you're mad but keep your voice down, I'm still an idol."

"Maybe you should've thought about that before using me for my body and then degrading me while you were balls deep in me!" You shot back, your voice rising despite his attempt to hush you. The anger you'd been holding onto for weeks bubbled over, and suddenly, you didn't care who heard you. You didn't care about the stares from the few early-morning pedestrians or the way Mina was peering out the cafe window with concern etched on her face.

"Y/N, please." he says, his voice a whisper of desperation, his eyes pleading. But you're done with his games, done with the hurt. "Don't."

You inhale sharply and looked behind you. "In my apartment. Come on." You didn't know what you wanted to do once you were there, but you knew you didn't want this conversation out here.

The walk back was tense, each step echoing the unspoken words between you. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence was almost deafening. You turned to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest, creating a barrier between the two of you.

Yunho's eyes scanned the small apartment, taking in the posters of his band plastered across the walls, and the various merchandise scattered around. He looked at you, his gaze lingering on your face, and you could see the turmoil in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a hand to stop him.

"No. You don't get to speak." You spat, the words cutting through the thick tension like a knife. "You had your fun, and now you're sorry? You're only saying sorry because you know I could ruin your career!"

Yunho's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "That's not it." He protested weakly, but you could see the truth in his eyes.

You pointed to the door, "Get out." The tremor in your voice was clear, even to you. "You don't get to come into my life, mess it up, and expect me to just let you back in!"

He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if to touch your arm, but you jerked away. "Y/N, please, let me explain." His voice was low, almost pleading. But you were done with explanations. You were done with his excuses.

"You don't care about me, Yunho! You never did!-"

"Thats not true! Fuck, can you just shut up and let me explain?!" He was desperate now, his voice rising slightly. His hand hovered in the space between you, trembling slightly.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that maybe he was telling the truth. But it was too late. The damage was done. "You had your chance, and you threw it away," you whispered, the anger draining out of you, leaving only a cold emptiness in its wake.

He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I did," he said, his voice hoarse. "But I want another chance. I like you. Fuck, not even like, I was obsessed with you and I still am! I just-"

You held up your hand, cutting him off. "No. Just no. I can't do this again. It's not good for me, and it's definitely not good for you."

"Y/N, please. Please, I'm sorry. Fuck, I am! I'm serious! I miss you so bad, it hurts!" Yunho's words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, but the doubt remained, a stubborn knot in your stomach.

You swallowed hard, the taste of your own bitterness still lingering in your mouth. "Miss me?" You echoed, trying to keep the skepticism out of your voice. "You didn't even bother to text me after."

"I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to make things worse, and I was…I was struggling with other shit and everything piled on and I was overwhelmed and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not reaching out, I'm sorry for not communicating, I'm sorry for acting like your feelings weren't valid!"

You felt a flicker of something, a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere. But the doubt was still there, a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach that seemed to grow with each of his words.

"I've been obsessing over you for the past weeks and I couldn't get you off my mind! Not being with you made me realize how much you actually mean to me!" Yunho's voice broke, and you could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. And before you knew it, he was…crying?

You felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe he really did mean it. But the hurt was still too fresh. "What do you want from me?" You asked, your voice cracking.

Yunho took another step closer, his hand still outstretched. "I want us to start over. For real this time. No more games, no more bullshit. Just you and me, figuring out if there's something here that's worth fighting for."

You felt your resolve wavering, the walls around your heart cracking at the sight of his pain. But you knew you couldn't just let him back in without making him understand the depth of his mistake. "What's changed?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

You felt his hand on your cheek and almost immediately melted into his touch, but you knew you had to be strong. "What's changed?" you repeated, your voice shaking.

Yunho took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I realized that I was an idiot. That you're not just some fan I can use and throw away. That I actually care about you, deeply." His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any hint of forgiveness.

"That I…I love you."

The words hung in the air like a declaration of war, and for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, the beat echoing in your ears. Love. The thing you had hoped for, the thing you had been too scared to admit to yourself. And here it was, spilling from his lips like a confession torn out of him. But was it enough? Could you trust it after everything that had happened?

For now, you pushed it to the back of your head and pulled him down, smashing your lips onto his. The kiss was desperate and painful, a silent apology and a plea all at once. You felt his arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you closer to him as if trying to meld your bodies into one.

You led him to the couch and threw him down, crawling on top of him and kissing him once again. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could somehow merge your bodies. You felt his hands on your hips, his grip tightening as the kiss grew more intense. You could taste the desperation in his mouth, the fear of losing you forever. And maybe, just maybe, you felt something else too.

You wrap your hand around his neck and bite your lip, pulling away and smiling. "Fucking joke." you smile a bit, moving your hips back and forth on top of him. "Gonna let me use you?"

Yunho's eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he chuckled. "Always," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly, his thumbs pressing into your skin. The heat from his touch seemed to spread through your entire body, igniting a fire that had been dormant for weeks. You lean down and kiss him again, your tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips.

You giggle, moving to undo his belt buckle. "But, I want this to be different." You whispered, your voice filled with a mix of hope and challenge. "I'm in charge now."

You sit up and undo your own jeans, pulling them off and throwing them on the ground, You push your panties to the side and straddle his lap, his eyes going wide with surprise. He had never seen this side of you, the side that takes control. You lean down and kiss him deeply, feeling his hands tense up before he relaxes into your embrace.

You pull his pants down a bit along with his boxers, revealing his erection. His eyes are on you, filled with a mix of lust and surprise. You smirk and lean down to kiss the tip of it, making him gasp. This was your power now. You had control, and you were going to make him beg for it.

"Say it." you look up, squeezing his cock a bit. "Say you love me."

Yunho's eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. "I love you," he murmured, the words coming out with a raw honesty that made your heart skip a beat. You felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in weeks.

"Say it again," you lift your hips, pressing his tip on your clit.

Yunho's eyes glazed over with pleasure. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much."

"Yeah?" you smile, moaning softly when you lowered yourself onto him. "Prove it."

He groaned as you slid down, taking him inch by inch. You felt his hands grip your hips as you started to move. It was a slow, deliberate pace, designed to drive him wild. His eyes never left yours as you set the rhythm, the early morning light filtering through the blinds and casting a warm glow over the two of you.

The both of you readjusted so it was easier for him to thrust up into you, and you felt your walls tighten around him. You leaned down, pressing your forehead against his. "I missed you too, Yunho." The admission was a whisper, the first crack in the dam of your anger.

"I-I missed you s-so much," he stammers, his eyes fluttering shut as you start to ride him with increasing intensity. His hips meet yours, thrusting up to fill you completely, the sound of your bodies coming together echoing through the quiet apartment. The friction is delicious, setting your skin alight, and you can't help but moan out his name.

"I bet you fucking did." you choke him again, leaning back and watching him as he starts to pant and moan, his hips bucking up to meet yours. You felt a thrill run through you, a heady mix of power and pleasure. This was what you wanted, what you needed from him.

"You love my pussy, don't you? Couldn't find anything better, right?" You taunt, your voice dripping with a mix of anger and desire. You lean back, arching your back to give him a better view of your bouncing tits, your breath catching in your throat as he fills you up.

"Fuck, yes, baby," Yunho groaned, his eyes never leaving yours as he picked up the pace, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, your body responding to his touch despite the words still stinging your heart. "Your pussy is the only one I want, t-the only one that feels this good."

"You bet your f-fucking ass it does," you panted, grinding down harder onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The pain melded with pleasure, a heady cocktail that was intoxicating. You leaned down and whispered in his ear, "But remember, you're mine now. Only mine."

"Y/N-" he gasps. "I-I'm clo-"

"Shut up." You push him further into the couch, feeling his cock throb inside you. "You don't get to come yet." You lean down and kiss him again, biting his bottom lip gently before pulling away. You could feel his body tensing, the muscles in his arms and thighs straining as he tried to hold back.

You start to ride him faster, your walls tightening around his shaft with every stroke. His eyes are locked on yours, the desperation in them making you feel alive again. You lean back, watching the play of emotions on his face as you bring yourself closer to the edge. You want to feel him lose control, to know that you have this power over him.

"P-Please, baby," he whimpers, his voice strained with need. "I-I can't hold on m-much longer."

"Oh?" You smirk, increasing your speed, watching his face contort with pleasure. "You're going to cum for me, Yunho. And you're gonna say it."

His eyes roll back, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Y/N…I'm gonna…cum," he chokes out, his body shaking.

You lean down and whisper in his ear, "Cum for me." It's a command that sends him over the edge. You feel his warmth fill you up as he groans your name, his body going rigid beneath yours. The sound sends you spiraling into your own orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a cry of pleasure.

For a moment, you stay there, both of you panting and trembling, bodies still joined. The intensity of the moment lingers, and for a fleeting instant, you believe that maybe, just maybe, he truly does love you. But the doubt is a persistent thorn in your side, reminding you of the pain he's caused.

"I love you so much," Yunho whispers, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion as you both come down from the intense climax. You lean your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as your hearts race together. The warmth of his body feels like a blanket wrapping you up in a cocoon of safety, but you know better than to get lost in this moment.

"I love you too."

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 5 - You Should Always Check Your Sources

CW: Angst, language, mentions of torture

Previous parts - masterlist - next

When you enter the room with John, Kate stands up looking over at you. She picks her laptop up like she’s packing to leave.

“Stay.” You say. You don’t want to be alone in a room with John. She looks at John waiting for his nod of approval before sitting back down. He walks over to a drawer pulling a file out. He hands it to you. You open it, the first pages are just generic report stuff. You flick through it until you come across some pictures.

Pictures, well CCTV screenshots of you. In London, you have no idea where they were taken or when but it looks like you. The same hair, even the same coat you wear. You’re meeting up with someone for coffee from the looks of it. You don’t recognise the other person though. 

“What's this?” You ask confused. The next page shows the transcript of a call between you and someone else. 

“A phone call between you and a man called; Andrei Nolan. He’s Makarovs right hand man.” John says you look up at him frowning. 

“I’m assuming he’s the man in the photos too?” You ask flicking back to them. You look up at John who nods. You don’t even recognise the guy, he could have been someone you just hooked up with or bumped into. You try to think back but the date on the CCTV screenshot is marked out. 

You hand the folder back to John. 

“I don’t even recognise the guy.” You say. You cross your arms, you don’t expect him to believe you.  

“We caught him in Russia about a week ago. He was more than happy to talk about your meetings.” John says.

“Meetings?” You question raising an eyebrow. You don’t like this, this is feeling all too familiar to the last few days. You’re one step away from having a rag pressed on your face again. 

“We assumed you were selling secrets to him.” Jon says. You scoff, looking over at Kate who tips her head slightly watching you both. 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Our mole in Konni gave us intel that exonerated you.” Kate says.

“That’s why it took so long, we had to assume the worst until we could prove any different.” He sighs, you look at him. “We had to do our job. If we didn’t we could have been accused of harboring a traitor, giving you special exemptions.” 

You laugh, you can't believe what he's saying. You can feel tears welling back up in your eyes. You turn away. You won’t let him see you cry. You hear him take a step towards you, you freeze. He sighs almost like he’s trying to find the right words to say. 

“I really am sorry. I never thought it would come to this but our hands were tied we-” 

“You had a choice.” You snap, turning back to look at him. “You always have a choice. You told me that once.” 

“I-” 

“No! You had a choice and you chose this. You could have let me rot in a cell for a few days. Or suspended me, hell I would have taken a flight back to the UK as a traitor. Instead you-” The words catch in your throat tears escape your eyes. You step back away from him, swallowing hard. 

“I want a transfer.” You say finally trying to keep your voice level. You wait for his response, your eyes digging into him. He straightens up, now he looks like he’s about to cry. Good, you hope they feel horrible for what they did. 

“Why don’t you think about it for a few days. You don’t have anywhere to be, you can take some time to rest.” Kate says. You look over at her.

“Rest?” You scoff, looking back at John. “I can’t sleep without being back in that room over and over  again. I can’t wash my hands or take a shower without having flashbacks. Everytime I see you I panic, thinking something new will happen, more ‘evidence’ against me and I’ll be back in that room again.” 

John doesn’t say anything, his eyes are relaxed, his lips pressed together. You hope the guilt is eating him alive. You can see the dark circles under his eyes, the way he clenches his fists when you talk to him. 

“I want a transfer.” You say again holding your ground. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything, just nods his head slightly. You let out a shaky breath. You nod back at him and turn to leave, you thought it would feel like a weight has been lifted but instead you feel worse. 

You’re turning your back on the people you love, the people you spent the last 2 years with. The people you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. It hurts. Maybe more then the torture at least the physical part. The betrayal, the emotional toll of having the people you love hurt you so much.  

“Johnny knows by the way.” You say as you open the door and you leave without looking back.

—--------------

“You need to calm down Johnny.” Simon says as Johnny’s trying to get out of bed. 

“He’s right Soap, you’re no good to anyone like this, you've just had major surgery.” Kyle says trying to help Simon get control of the situation. 

“Fuck you.” Johnny snaps, pulling his arm out of Simon's grip and swinging his legs out the bed. 

“What’s going on?” John asks as he enters the room taking in the scene. 

“You tortured her. For 4 days you made her suffer, what were you thinking?” Johnny asks John in almost disbelief. “The snakes really? Low even for you.” 

“Does it matter?” John asks, coming into the room sighing. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Johnny asks scoffing and looking between Simon and John. 

“Of course it fuckin’ matters. She’s our girl cap. Or did you forget that?” There's spite in Johnny’s voice as he digs his eyes into John. 

“Get back into bed.” John says walking up to the bed.

“Fuck no. I want to see her.” Kyle pushes Johnny back, keeping him in the bed. 

“You know she’ll just drag you back here.” Kyle says. Johnny grunts, giving up pushing against him, he’s too weak anyway. He sighs, shaking his head. 

“You really thought it was her?” He asks. 

“The intel we had was solid.” John says. Kyle scoffs this time, Johnny looks up at him raising an eyebrow. 

“Does it justify 4 days of torture though?” Kyle says, there’s spite in his voice too. John sighs, he can regret it all he wants but it happened and that's on him and Simon. 

“Regardless, we had to act on it.” Simon says coming round to the end of the bed. 

“We should have done it differently.” John says.

“You think?” Johnny snaps looking over at him. Johnny shakes his head again. He swings his legs back into the bed, Kyle lets out a breath of release. 

“I can’t believe it. You fucking broke her. The person we’re supposed to love. 4 days, 4 fucking days.” Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s silence in the room, tension thick in the air. 

“What are we going to do?” Johnny asks no one in particular. 

“Nothing.” John says, everyones eyes turn to him. “She’s asked for a transfer.” 

—--------------

You walk into Johnny’s room around midnight. You couldn’t sleep again. You’re sick of sleeping. The pills don’t help, they just make you feel trapped in your dreams. You try to silently enter and pull a chair up to his bed but he stirs awake. 

“Hey lass,” he says, turning in the bed to face you. He looks sad, his face puffy. He’s been crying. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whisper. 

“Come up.” He says shuffling in the bed and pulling the covers out the way. 

“I shouldn’t-” 

“You should.” He says cutting you off. You smile and reach town to take your boots off. He moves to get more comfortable as you climb into bed next to him. He immediately wraps his arms around you pulling the thin hospital blankets over you. 

You lay there for a few seconds, breathing him in. He smells of hospital, but there’s a hint of Johnny there, the lingering smell of gunpowder and whatever musky cologne he uses. It makes you smile as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asks, kissing the top of your head. You hum. 

“Me too.” 

You’re comfortable laying up against him. Suddenly you feel bad for leaving, you don’t know how you’re going to tell Kyle and Johnny. You need to go though, it's better for everyone. You can’t work with them again, not after what they did. 

Johnny and Kyle will understand. You’re sure they will. 

“I’m sorry you got shot.” You say, it feels like something you have to say. 

“Shh, you saved my life love. I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for you.” He says kissing your head again. His hands are running over you like it’s the first time he’s touching you. You know that’s a lie, you have to convince yourself they can save themselves. They would be lost without each other, they wouldn’t be lost without you. 

You’re going to miss him. You close your eyes, breathing him in relaxing your arm over his stomach while he strokes you. 

You’ll see them again, keep in contact with Kyle and Johnny at least. You just can’t work with them anymore. 

“I love you Johnny.” You say, it hurts. For the first time ever it hurts to say it. 

“I know love. I love you too.” You smile letting him hug you tighter. You try to stay away but your eyes are heavy, the sounds of the machines lulling you to sleep. 

You’ll tell them tomorrow you promise yourself.

next

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[lesservillain]

vii. and you'll begin to wonder why you came

summary: things go south very quickly cw: VERY HEAVY TOPICS (gun violence, real threats against reader and Eddie, suicide) , ANGST (like so much of it) a/n: if any of the mentioned topic may be too much for you, please let me know and i will write a brief chapter summary and link it back here to be read.

“Did you hear that, too?” Eddie whispered to you. There was no way this was happening. No way.

Another knock.

“Hey, open up! I know you’re there!” A voice called from the other side of the door. More knocking had you jumping in your seat.

“What the hell? That doesn’t sound like any of the guys,” Eddie says looking to you.

“No, it sounds like…”

You get up from the couch and walk over to the door. You’re just about to open it when Eddie shouts, “What are you doing?! You’re not supposed to open the door!”

“It’s not Vecna,” you say, grabbing the door handle and opening it.

Sure enough, when you open the door you find the last person you expected to see right now standing on the other side.

“Sam, what are you doing here?”

“I knew that was your car,” he says angrily, “Just like I knew you’d be here.”

“Sam, I don’t understand--”

“What I don’t understand is why the hell you’re fucking some cripple!”

“Sam!” You weren’t about to deal with this right now. “You can’t just show up here and act like an ass. You need to leave.”

“No, I came all the way here to…to…” His words trailed off. He shook his head and looked at you straight. “I came here to confront you about cheating on me.”

“Cheat on you? What the hell are you talking about?”

“What’s going on here?” Eddie says as he rolls up to the door. “Who the hell is this?”

“You son of a bitch.” Sam goes to lunge at Eddie, but you jump between them to stop him.

“Sam, stop it!”

“You fucker! You took her from me!”

“Sam, no one took anything from you! We were not together. Yes, we went on a few dates, but I never agreed to be your girlfriend!”

“So you’re not even denying it? You have been sleeping with him?”

“No, Sam, I--”

“With that freak?”

“Dude, you need to go before I call the cops. She’s not interested in you, and you just need to accept that.” Eddie says sternly, wheeling to the door and starting to close it.

“I’m not leaving without her,” Sam says, putting a hand firmly on the door to keep it from shutting. Eddie is too weak to resist, and the door stays ajar with Sam practically forcing his way in. Sam shifts his weight so the door stays open with his shoulder and he reached toward you. You try and move, but he’s able to grab you by the wrist and hold on to you, his grip like a vice.

“Hey, get off of her!” Eddie moves to go for his hand but is stopped when the end of a gun is raised to his head.

Everyone freezes as the tides of the situation turn. Your blood runs cold at the sight before you.

“Don’t move. Just stay where you are and no one gets hurt,” Sam says to Eddie, whose wide eyes are locked on you. 

After a moment, Sam pulls on your arm and you fall into him. Wrapping his arm around you, he suddenly pulls the gun from Eddie and points it at your instead. Flashbacks flood your mind from a situation you had been in once before and you fight the urge to scream.

“Come on,” Sam says as he pulls you out of the house and into the cold January night. Eddie is left to watch as you’re dragged off the porch and to Sam’s car. You can only imagine how he must be feeling right now.

Sam opens the car door and starts to push you inside. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot him,” he says as he slams the car door shut. Your body is shaking, you don’t know if it’s from the cold or from the nerves in your body. But you don’t dare move.

The driver side door opens and Sam moves like he’s about to enter, when he suddenly freezes. You look at him as confusion covers his face. His body shakes like he’s trying to move, but he just seems stuck in place.

And then you watch as his body lifts in the air. He lets out a scream, and then he’s slammed against the hood of his car, his body rolling off of it and onto the ground.

What the fuck?

“Get out! Get out!” You barely heard Eddie’s voice from outside of the car. It felt like you were in another world, your ears buzzing from the disorientation setting in. Your vision started to go fuzzy and you felt your head hitting the back of the car’s seat. Suddenly everything went black, your body feeling like it was floating in water all around you.

Then, you were standing. Everything was dark except for the streetlights that shown through the windows. There was a thick fog flowing in the room you were in, making it hard to decipher where you were at.

But the blade at your throat throttled you into the situation in an earth shattering way.

“This doesn’t have to be like this, ya know?” The familiar, yet haunting voice says from behind you. “We could have been together. It would have been us against the world.”

You gulp, taking a sharp breath in so that your throat wouldn’t push into the knife any more than it already was. Even though you’ve had this nightmare a million times over, this time felt different. The blade felt like it did the day it happened. But there’s no way this was real.

“Oh, it’s real.” An otherworldly voice speaks to you directly in your head, but your eyes still scan the room to find it. 

“Say something, anything!” David speaks from behind you again, pressing the knife in more.

“I don’t know what to say.” The words come out but you didn’t say them. Well, you did that day, but you weren’t making the conscious effort to say them now. 

“How does it feel to be in this situation again? Where you’re life hangs in the balance, unknowing of the outcome,” the voice speaks again.

But you weren’t in danger. You knew how all of this ended. Any moment you’d hear her voice and then the shot. You just had to wait it out.

“But what if it didn’t happen? What if he really killed you?” 

“Then say nothing ever again!”

You waited to hear her voice. But it never came. Only the slice of the knife. And then…nothing.

“Wake up, wake up!”

You felt light slaps against your cheek as you started to come to. Your vision was still blurry, but as you opened them you started to make out a figure above you.

“Oh, thank fuck.” You hear Eddie’s relief is his words, starting to piece together his form as your vision clears. There’s a ton of commotion going on around you as your hearing comes back to you as well. You try and look around, but Eddie just pulls you into him. 

“Just keep your head down, they’re handling it.”

Who’s handling it? Handling what? Sam? You don’t hear any gunshots, so it must not be him. You try and peer around Eddie’s shoulder to see if you can see Sam’s body on the ground.

“He’s just unconscious. I grabbed his gun but we should still keep an eye on him if he wakes up.”

Nothing Eddie says was making sense, but you felt like you didn’t have any choice but to listen to him.

“Max! Please, it’s us!”

You hear the kids behind you and instinctively try and turn to see what’s going on. But Eddie doesn’t let you, holding you tight.

“What’s happening?” You ask into his chest

“Vecna has Max. They’re trying to get her to snap out of it, but she won’t budge. Lucas tried singing to her but even that’s not working.”

“And they can’t attack her?”

“Nope, so it’s just them against Vecna right now. El is doing her best to try and--”

“NOW, NOW!”

You hear the boys roar from the other side of the car, all of them joining in to sing a song you don’t recognize. 

“Come on, Max!” That sounded like Joyce.

“Max, wake up!” A familiar voice that you think might be Steve.

The singing continues as their voices get louder. You can only imagine what it must look like to see them all singing right now. 

Then it suddenly goes quiet. 

“Max? Max!” An unfamiliar voice calls to the girl.

Eddie loosens his grip on you a bit, so you take the moment to move your body around. The front yard is filled with people; all the boys, Jane, Hopper, Joyce, Robin, Steve, Rick, and two people you don’t recognize.

“Lucas?” You hear the girls voice crack.

“Max!” Lucas takes Max in his arms and hold her tightly. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, Jane leaning down to hug the girl.

“Thank fuck,” Eddie says behind you.

“So he showed up here with a gun?”

“Why is no one answering me!” Sam is screaming out the window, cuffed by Hopper in his police cruiser. “I was in the air and--and…why are you all ignoring me?!”

“Will you quiet down,” Hopper says before turning back to you. You stand there watching Sam, worried he might get out of his cuffs and hurt Eddie.

“Yeah, he pointed it at my head, then at her and tried to drag her out to his car. That’s why we were outside when you got here.” Eddie says, his hand in yours squeezing slightly.

“Alright, I’ll take him to the station, but we’ll have to have you guys come in tomorrow and give an official statement, assuming you want to press charges.”

“Yes,” you say without second thought. There was no way you were letting him get near Eddie ever again.

“Alright, well, let me take care of him, you guys probably need to tend to what’s going on inside. I’ll try and come back later tonight to see how everyone is doing. One of you needs to call Mrs. Mayfield and let her know Max is here.”

“Got it,” Eddie says, giving Hopper a nod. Getting in the cruiser, you stand and watch as Hopper takes Sam down the drive way and out of sight. Only then do you get to breathe your sigh of relief.

“Let’s go inside, you must be freezing,” Eddie says, pulling on your hand. You only respond by ducking down to embrace him, squeezing him tightly in your arms.

“I was so afraid, Eddie,” you say as you drop down to your knees. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie coos, rubbing his hand up and down the back of your head. “Nothing’s gonna happen to us now.” But the sobs still come. Eddie just lets you get it out of your system, placing kisses on the top of your head as you cry into his chest. Finally, after getting all the tears out, you look up at him. He smiles at you, letting a hand rest on your cheek before placing a soft kiss against your lips. 

Passing Rick as he smokes a cigarette out on the porch, the two of you go back inside and it’s pure pandemonium. They’ve got Max on the couch with Lucas by her side, the boys are all arguing about something, Steve and Robin are checking on Jane, and Joyce is in the kitchen on the phone while the two people you don’t recognize stand by her side. You push Eddie inside and Steve and Robin walk over to you two.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” Steve asks, looking between you and Eddie.

“Okay now,” Eddie says looking back at you. “We had a bit of trouble before you guys got here.”

“Yeah, who was that guy that Hopper took away?” Robin asks.

“It’s a long story, but what matters is everyone is okay.” You pause. “Everyone is okay, right?”

“Yeah, Max says she’s sore, but we got her comfortable on the couch. She can’t see anything, though,” Robin says, looking to Eddie when she says the last part.

“Her eyes…” You remember Eddie saying that Vecna had taken his victims eyes when he killed them.

“They’re still there, but she said everything is blurry.”

“Is that Eddie?” Max says from the couch and the room goes silent.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Eddie says after a beat.

“Are you okay? Vecna told me he was going to come for you since you escaped.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and he sets his hand on top of it.

“So tell us the last thing you remember again,” Dustin asks Max. She shifts on the couch so she’s leaning forward.

“I remember levitating off the ground, all my limbs being broken, and then everything went black. That’s all I got.”

“But you’ve been having visions while you were in the coma?” Will asks, moving to sit next to her.

“Yes, he has something planned, but he’s weak. I think he over estimated himself this time. The last thing I remember before waking up was him saying he would be back for me.”

The boys collectively groan, clearly upset they still hadn’t defeated the monster lurking in the shadows.

“So we’re still not safe,” Mike says throwing up his hands.

“At least we have Max back,” Jane says in response.

“Yeah, but she’s a ticking time bomb. Who knows when he’s going to try and use her to do that again.”

“Let’s try and stay positive here,” Steve says with his hands on his hips. 

“Steve’s right,” Dustin says, nodding his head, “We didn’t have any casualties tonight, and we got a party member back. We should be happy about that much. I call it a win.”

“Very well said, Dustin,” Joyce says with a tone of approval.

“Thank you, Mrs.Byers,” Dustin says with a nod. “Now I think all of us are tired right now, so why don’t we call it a night and circle back to come up with a game plan. Someone should probably be with Max at all times, just in case.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Max says crossing her arms.

“Max, please--” Lucas pleads, grabbing for her hand, but Max doesn’t give in.

“I don’t need babysitters again. Just let me spend some time with my mom…tell her what’s going on and…and just try and live a normal life for a little bit.”

The tone in her voice broke your heart. It sounded like she’s been going through a grueling time while in her coma and you want nothing more than to tell her she’s okay now. But she doesn’t even know you, so you know it’s not your place to say.

“Speaking of, I called your mother and let her know you were here. She was worried sick about you,” Joyce says.

“Thanks,” Max says softly. The tension in the air dissipated as she leaned into Lucas, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Eddie, do I need to call Wayne?” Joyce asks, looking between you two.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stay the night. We need to go to the station tomorrow anyway,” you say, rubbing your thumb on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Who was that?” Max suddenly asks, her head perking up as she looks around the room.

Dustin tells her your name and smiles, “Eddie’s girlfriend.”

“We’re not--”

“I’m not his--”

The two of you go to defend yourselves in unison. Even with everything you’d done, there was still no official stamp on what the two of you are. Not that you’d deny it if Eddie didn’t.

“Oh, they’re totally dating,” Max says with a smile.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” you say, the words spilling out of your mouth like vomit. Eddie looks back at you dumfounded. But it only lasts for a moment before a somber look adorns his beautiful features.

“We’re not dating.” His tone is stern, and it takes you back a bit. Did what you say upset him? Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“Whatever you say,” Max says with a shrug.

Suddenly, the front door opens and Rick steps inside and the tense air starts to dissipate. 

“Did I miss anything important?” He says stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets and looking around the room.

“Who’s that guy?” Max asks, hands going up with annoyance.

After a bit of talking, eventually everybody goes home, leaving just you and Eddie by yourselves. He’s been quiet most of the night, hardly saying a word even when directly addressed. You assumed he was probably a little shaken up from the events of the night and decided not to press him much on the subject.

“Ready for bed?” You ask as you close the front door, cutting off the cold chill that was infiltrating the house.

“Yes,” is all he says. You turn to look at him and he looks absolutely defeated.

“Come on, let’s go,” you say as you grab his wheelchair. You push him back to his room and grab some night clothes for him to change into.

“Do you want something to wear?” He asks, not looking at you.

“Oh, sure,” you say, trying to hid how giddy you were at the thought of wearing Eddie’s clothes. You had your bag out in your car, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Pick whatever you want,” he says, pulling his shirt off to replace with the clean one. You take a peak at his shirtless form, but quickly recover as his curls pop through the hole and fly everywhere. You grab another shirt and some pajama pants and go to the bathroom to change, laying your now dirty clothes on the sink. You could wash yours and Eddie’s clothes tomorrow.

When you came out of the bathroom, Eddie was already in bed with the blanket pulled up almost over his head. It made you laugh, reminding you about his old self when you first started coming around. Making your way to his bed, you sit on the edge and lift your legs so that you’re laying next to him. His head pops out, a look of surprise on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep?” You say, looking at him quizzically.

“Here?”

“Is that okay?”

Eddie thinks for a moment and you watch the way the gears are turning behind his eyes.

“I…I guess that’s okay,” he finally says, lifting the blanket up so you can slide under it. His hesitancy had you concerned, but you weren’t going to question it tonight. Maybe the two of you needed to have a talk in the car tomorrow.

Eddie pulls a pillow out from under him and moves it for you to lay on. When you do, you immediately sigh at the smell of him entering your nose. It smelled like his shampoo and honestly like a little bit of sweat, but that didn’t bother you. You smiled contently as you snuggled it.

“Well…goodnight,” Eddie says softly, before turning over and facing the complete opposite direction in the bed. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt. It didn’t have to be all lovey dovey, but you were at least hoping for a little bit of cuddling. Maybe he just wasn’t used to all of this yet. He said he’d never been with someone before, so maybe he was the one in need of affection.

You moved closer to him. Enough for you to wrap your arm around him, sliding it up under his arm. He stiffened at the sudden embrace, and you could only imagine the look on his face right now. Placing a soft peck against his back, you snuggle into him, letting his hair tickle your face in the process.

“Goodnight Eddie,” you say into his skin, and slowly feel yourself drifting off into sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, the first thing you noticed immediately was how hot you were. It was like you were sleeping next to a space heater from how much heat was coming off of Eddie’s body. His body, which was now completely entangled in yours. At some point in the night he flipped over and had gotten both arms around you, and his thigh rested on top of yours. 

The second thing you noticed was his snoring. Right in your ear. You giggled when you looked up at him, his mouth hanging wide open with a little line of drool threatening to spill onto your forehead if you didn’t move soon. He looked so at peace in his slumber.

You stayed there for a while, until the eventual need to pee took over and you had to get up. You did your best to remove yourself slowly from Eddie’s grasp, not wanting to wake him up. Once you were able to escape, you ran to the bathroom and did your business, finding Eddie still asleep when you came out. You decided then to go ahead and make breakfast, letting Eddie get the extra sleep after everything he’s been through.

Walking out to the kitchen, you let out a big yawn, closing your eyes as you do.

“Mornin.”

The voice scares you, and you jump. Hand on your chest, you breath heavily as you try to calm yourself back down.

“Jeez, didn’t mean ta scare ya,” Wayne says with a bit of a laugh. You spin around to find him sitting in the recliner, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Oh my god, Wayne,” you say with a breath. “Sorry, I’m just a little on edge.”

“I’d imagine so. I’m guessing somethin’ went down last night.”

You blink, recollecting the events from the night prior.

“You could say that.”

Wayne joined you in the kitchen as you made breakfast. Recounting what happened the night before, sans what you and Eddie did, Wayne simply sits and nods as you talk. It dawned at you at one point that Eddie never said he told Wayne the whole truth about what happened, but if Wayne was confused about anything he didn’t let it be known.

There’s a quiet moment between you two once you finish. Wayne seems to be processing the information, but his silence still makes you nervous. You didn’t want him to think you were going to cause them trouble after telling him about Sam.

“Well,” he finally says, “At least the two of you are okay. You are okay, right?”

His question has you thinking. Were you alright? You just went through some pretty traumatic shit once again in your life, but being a glutton for trouble you’ve come to terms with about yourself. You were more worried about Eddie than anything. Especially with how closed off he seemed to be after everything happened. But, regardless of what happened to you, you were going to stick by his side and help him through everything from now on.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says, slapping his hands on his knees before standing up. “I think I’m gonna go have me a quick smoke after hearing all of that. Need me to wake Eddie up before I go?”

“No, I’ll wake him,” you say as you finish plating all the food. Wayne nods and heads for the front door, closing it softly behind him.

Making your way back to Eddie’s room, you see that he’s gotten himself spread out like a starfish in the middle of the bed. You wonder if he was reaching out looking for you in his sleep and it makes you melt. You almost don’t want to wake him, but you know the two of you have a big day ahead of you and you want to make sure he has time to get ready before making the trip into town.

You walk over to the bed and lean down. With a gentle touch, you rub Eddie’s shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. “Eddie,” you say softly so not to startle him. After a moment he starts to stir, ripping a loud snort before his eyes go fluttering open. His eyes take a moment to focus before they’re landing on you, a dopey grin spreading over his face.

“You’re still here,” he says in a raspy tone that should not still be affecting you. You nod and lean in to give him a quick peck on the forehead. He hums in response, still trying to get his barrings before sitting up in the bed. His hand comes to rub his eyes a bit, running through his wild mane before landing back on the bed.

“Did you make food?” He asks, sniffing the air.

“Yep, it’s ready for you in the kitchen,” you say, turning around to grab his wheelchair. He throws the covers off of himself and turns to sit on the side of the bed. Locking the wheels, he grabs the armrests and swings himself down into the seat, adjusting himself until he’s comfortable.

“Ready?” You ask as you grab the handles of his chair.

“Lemme piss first. I’ll meet you out there.”

You give him a quick okay and head back to the kitchen. Wayne is already back inside, and he’s already sat your plates in your respective spots at the table.

“He awake?” He asks, taking a bite out of his eggs.

“Yeah, he’s coming. Had to pee.”

After a few minutes, Eddie joins to two of you in the kitchen, wheeling his chair up to the table. He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly starts to eat his food.

“Well, mornin’ sunshine,” Wayne says to Eddie.

“Morning,” Eddie says with a mouth full of food.

“Must’ve worked up quite an appetite after everything, huh?”

Eddie stops, looking up at Wayne and then to you.

“You told him?”

You nod, “I hope that’s okay.”

“Everything?”

You nod again.

Eddie sighs, placing his fork down and sitting back in his chair.

“Well,” he says throwing his hands up, “what do you have to say about it?”

“Not much,” Wayne says taking a sip from his coffee. “Just that I’m glad everything worked out.”

“That’s it? No lecture? No telling me we need to jump ship and find another place to live? No telling me that I should’ve just stayed out of the mess this time, as if I had a choice? Just you’re happy we’re okay?” You were taken aback by Eddie’s sudden outburst. 

“Yep,” is all Wayne says before digging back into his food again. Eddie just stares at him, dumbfounded at his lack of response. The tension in the air still lingers, but when Eddie goes back to eating again, you feel your shoulders start to relax. The rest of breakfast is eaten wordlessly, and you take Eddie’s plate with yours as he finishes. 

“Are you done?” You ask Wayne, whose eyes are glued to the paper he picked up on the way home from work.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thank ya, darling,” he says when you take his plate. You head for the sink and take your time to wash them. Eddie wheels past in his chair, presumably heading to his room.

“Thank you.” Wayne’s voice calls from the other side of the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” you say over the running water. “Better to go ahead and clean them than let them sit in the sink.”

“No, I mean thank you for being here.” There’s a serious tone to his voice that makes you stop what you’re doing.

“But…but if I hadn’t been here…He might not have…”

“Eddie would have been on his own, and God knows what could have happened. So…just, thank you.”

Though you knew he meant his words, it still felt as if they weren’t true. If you hadn’t been there, Sam more than likely would have just left, right? No reason to harass Eddie if you weren’t around. It gave you a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach as you realize you could have been the reason Eddie died last night. That if you had just minded your own business and left him alone, maybe Rick or Dustin would have answered the door instead of you, deterring Sam from doing anything stupid.

“...Yeah, of course.” The words don’t feel right leaving your mouth. Like you shouldn’t accept Wayne’s sentiment with so little fight. He should hate you because you put his nephew in harms way. You might as well have put the gun to his head.

Eddie rolls back into the kitchen a few minutes later with some clothes folded up in his lap. He clears his throat and you slowly turn to look at him. “Can I take a shower before we go in to town?” You give him a nod and set the last of the dishes in the drying rack before wiping your hands on the stove towel. Quietly, you follow him back to his room, trailing behind his chair as he makes his way into the bathroom. He takes his shirt off and lays it on the counter, putting all his scars on display for you to see. It reminds you that this man has already been through so much pain in his life, and here you are causing more.

“You ready?” He asks, turning back to look at you. You walk into the bathroom and stand in front of him, taking your hands and wrapping them around his torso. You give a countdown from three and the two of you stand. Eddie makes quick work of his pants, letting them drop on the floor. You keep your eyes at a respectable height despite the way you were intimately close to him the night before, just in case. With a quick spin, you set him down on his shower chair, letting him get adjusted as you grab his washcloths from the drawer.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie’s words make you jump. Your eyes meet his to see his brows pinched together with concern. 

“Yeah, just tired,” is all you can muster to him, not wanting to upset him more with the thoughts that were currently flooding your mind. Why make him feel worse than he probably already does?

“Do you want to shower with me?” Another surprise question to rock you. 

“Eddie…”

“No, you’re right. Sorry I asked.” His tone bites at you, only making you feel worse.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think it’s a good idea because, you know, Wayne and all.” It wasn’t a lie. Wayne had no idea what had transpired between you and Eddie, and he never needed to as far as you were concerned. But the two of you suddenly showering together might tip him off to your affairs. You wondered if he would be upset if he knew you and Eddie had slept together. Would he think it was inappropriate? Maybe he’d think you’d taken advantage of Eddie in his current state. Had you?

“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Eddie said dejectedly. You fought the urge to kiss away his sadness, but settled for keeping to yourself in case the sudden affection was more than Eddie needed right now. You didn’t deserve to be selfish after everything you’d caused him.

“I’ll be listening for the water to turn off,” you say before making your leave, leaving the bathroom door cracked. 

While Eddie showers, you decide you need to clean any evidence of what the two of you did the night before. Stripping Eddies bed, you bunch up the fabric into a ball and carry it out to the kitchen, dropping them into the washing machine and starting it. You knew Eddie had clothes that needed to be washed, but they could wait for later.

Looking around, you notice Wayne is missing from the table and presume that he must have gone to bed. It makes you think that you could have slipped into the shower with Eddie, wanting desperately to wash the night before off of your skin, but it was still probably for the best. You could wash yourself in the safety of your own bathroom later tonight.

In an attempt to distract yourself from your own thoughts, you made Eddie’s bed and put away some clean clothes that were still sitting out on top of his dresser from the last load someone had done for him. At least there was an attempt to keep this house orderly while you were gone, assuming that Rick didn’t do half the things around here that you did. You wondered if he’d been with Eddie the whole time or if when Vecna decided to make an appearance in Eddie’s life again that Wayne decided to take some time off of work. Surely he needed a break with how hard working he was, but not with the thoughts of his nephew’s life being on the line.

Once everything is made and put away, you sit on the edge of Eddie’s bed and just think. Nothing good, unfortunately. Mostly just replaying the night over in your head, sans the good parts. You didn’t feel like you deserved to think about the good parts right now. The sound of the water shutting off was the only thing to save you from the spiral that was starting to come on.

Making your way to the bathroom, you find Eddie already drying himself off. Walking over to him, you take your position, hands up under his arms to help him stand. You notice that he doesn’t have anything draped over his lap, but don’t spend much time lingering on it. Why make a big deal out of something like that now? If anything it made you feel that Eddie was more comfortable with you now than he was before. Maybe he felt like what happened between you was enough to get rid of some of the boundaries between you. Once you settled him in his chair, you rolled him over to the sink and started to do his hair, combing out the tangles and massaging hair cream into it.

“Had to do this myself while you weren’t around,” he says, motioning to his hair.

“Well, you didn’t do half bad. It’s not as tangled as I expected it to be,” you say as you pull the comb through his curls.

“Learned from the best,” he says, smiling at you in the mirror. You returned it, giving a small on in return.

“I’m definitely not the best,” you say with a shake of your head.

“You are to me.”

You pause your movements, staring down at the back of his head. It takes everything in you not to embrace him. To not just throw caution to the wind and spin him around and kiss him over and over. You want nothing more than to say you’re sorry and beg him to forgive you for all the grief you’ve caused him. But, you don’t. Instead, you lean down, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. You could do that much.

The Hawkins police department was more lack luster than you anticipated. It was a small station, much like the one back in your home town. Hopper apparently wasn’t even in yet, so you had the option to interview with the deputy or wait until Hopper arrived. You didn’t mind talking with the deputy and getting this whole thing over with, but Eddie insisted that the two of you needed to speak with Hopper. So the two of you waited for about 45 minutes in almost complete silence.

“Sorry, I had to stop at the Mayfield residence on my way in,” Hopper explained as he rushed into the station.

“Call next time,” the receptionist says without looking up from her paperwork. “These two have been waiting for you.” She points her pen towards you and Eddie. Hopper spins on his heal and sighs when he sees the two of you.

“Hey, sorry, come on back,” Hopper says, motioning for the two of you to follow him. You push Eddie’s chair behind him until you reach his office. Hopper closes the door behind you, locking it.

“How are you guys doing today?” What a loaded question.

“We’re okay for the most part,” you say as you you take a seat in the available chair in front of the desk.

“Hopefully you could get some sleep last night. It was a little rough for me with everything that happened,” Hopper says as he takes his own seat across from you and Eddie.

“Did everyone get home okay?” Eddie asks.

“Jonathan is dropping everyone off now,” Hopper says with a nod. Eddie sighs with relief, settling in his chair.

“Do you want to talk about what happened last night or do you want to get the stuff with this Sam guy taken care of first?” Hopper asks, leaning forward in his chair. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Better to rip the bandaid off and deal with the pain first.

“We should probably talk about Sam,” you say, looking over at Eddie. He nods with stoney expression, not looking in your direction.

“Alright, I know I already asked, but I’m just clarifying that you want to press charges?”

“Yes. Definitely.” You say without hesitation. 

“Well I can definitely press him with some felony charges, but the two of you will have to go to court. Is that something you think you can handle again?” Hopper asks Eddie.

Shit, you hadn’t even thought about that. Would Eddie be okay with going back to court after everything that happened to him last year?

“I can handle it,” Eddie says plainly. “I don’t want that fucker to see the light of day again.” 

Hopper chuckles before looking over to you. “Well, I’ll need a statement from the both of you then. Doesn’t have to be today, but the sooner the better.”

“We can give them today. I’d like to make this go as quickly as possible,” you say, just wishing none of this had even happened. 

Hopper pulls on one of his desk drawers and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. He asks you to start from the beginning and the two of you give a retelling of the events of the previous night. It wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be, maybe because of your own experiences in the past, but listening to Eddie give his own spin on the events made your chest tighten. You wanted to take him out of the equation completely. You could handle this on your own, you’ve done it before. But Eddie didn’t need any of this.

You get to the point where you pass out and pause, letting Hopper get caught up with his writing. You hadn’t said anything about the weird dream you had, not really thinking about it until now. You weren’t even sure if it was worth mentioning.

“Then what happened?” He says looking between the two of you.

“I rolled out when I saw him hit the ground. I tried calling for her, but when I got to the car, that’s when she had passed out. I pulled her out of the car and tried to pull her away, but I couldn’t get us too far.” Eddie was getting upset the more he progressed with the story, his fists clenching, knuckles white with anger. “Then I heard his voice in my head. He said he was coming for me. I started to panic, but that’s when you all showed up and the voice went away.”

Hopper had stopped writing, probably omitting the end of that from the report for obvious reasons. You reached out, taking Eddie’s hand in yours. He gripped you tightly for a moment before loosening his grip. His eyes stayed forward, even though you wished he would just look at you.

“Well,” Hopper starts, setting his pen down and looking over the paper, “for the sake of the report, I just put that you fought back against him and knocked him out. That’ll hold up better in court, so just remember that for when they have you testify.”

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

“As for what happened after…I’d wouldn’t be surprised if some suits don’t show up at your door by the end of the day today. They’re gonna want to talk to her, too, so I would just hang out at your place until they get there.”

“Right,” Eddie huffs.

“Suits?” You ask, confused.

“The government.” Hopper says. What the hell had you gotten yourself into? “They’re involved in all of this stuff now that some people are gone. They want to keep this stuff under wraps so I’m sure you’ll be signing an NDA.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a paper saying you wont discuss what happened.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say, shaking your head.

“I know, but the big wigs want to be sure of it. Don’t let it scare you. They wont do anything to you as long as you keep to yourself.”

“Welcome to the club,” Eddie says with a faux enthusiasm.

The government did in fact show up to Eddie’s house later that day. They separated you and Eddie and interrogated you about what happened. The lady you spoke with was nice, but it still had you feeling nervous. You hadn’t really seen much, so it didn’t take long for you to tell them what you knew. It made you wonder if Eddie knew this would happen, and that’s why he shielded you away from what was going on.

After a few hours, they finally left with an NDA signed by you and a stern reminder to Eddie and Wayne. It left you feeling mentally exhausted, and you plopped down on the couch with a long exhale that you felt like you’d been holding since they arrived.

“Stuffy bastards,” Wayne says as he grabs his jacket and throws it on. “I’m goin’ out fer a smoke after alla that.”

“Count me in, too,” Eddie says, rolling over to grab his own jacket from the coat rack.

“Ya need one too, darlin?” Wayne asks, laying a hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe,” you say with an airy chuckle. Standing up from the couch, you grab your jacket and follow the Munson men outside into the cold. You know the metal from the chair would instantly freeze your ass, so you opt to stand next to Eddie instead, not bothered by the smoke that comes from his cigarette. The three of you stand in a comfortable silence after talking for hours on end, none of you wanting to speak another word for as long as possible. But someone needed to break the ice.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go soon.” 

“Do ya want to stay for dinner? Just about that time,” Wayne asks.

“I’m sure the two of you have seen enough of me today. Plus, I’m dying for a 

shower.”

“You could’a showered here.”

“I know, but I want to put some clean clothes on,” you say, not wanting to sound

rude. “Plus, I’m sure Tonya is getting worried about me. I didn’t tell her I was staying the night last night.”

“Oh, well, yeah, it’s probably good of you to let ‘er know you’re alright after being gone for so long,” Wayne says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“But,” you start, turning to face the both of them. “If I leave here, you guys have to promise me that you’re not going to shut me out again. That I’m going to come back here Monday and things will go back to normal. Or as normal as they can be now. Promise me.”

Wayne chuckles. “Promise, darlin’.” You look at Eddie and wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s staring out into the woods with a blank look on his face. You wonder if he even heard you.

“Eddie?”

He’s silent for a beat.

“Yeah, promise.”

Things return to a somewhat normal come Monday. By somewhat, you mean that things are how they used to be, just a used to be that’s similar to your time with Eddie when you first came around. You don’t know what happened in the day and a half you were gone, but Eddie seemed like he was reverting back to his old self. He barely talked to you while you were there, didn’t ring his bell once during the night. He just generally kept to himself. 

It hurt. A lot.

And it wasn’t just like this the first night. No, this had been going on for weeks now. Any time you tried to talk to him, he would give you the cold shoulder or his answers would be short. It was killing you, only making you feel worse than you had before. You’d hoped he would lighten up after some time passed, but as the cold weather began to change, melting the snow with it, you still felt frozen in time to that night.

It didn’t help that clinicals were mentally exhausting you, too. It was your final semester in college and you had so much going on that you didn’t have it in you to fight with him. If you could just get through this semester, then maybe you’d have the energy to talk to him and figure out what was going on in his head.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Eddie says as he rolls behind the couch.

“Okay,” is all you say, a mountain of school work laid out in front of you on the coffee table. You hear the door open and close, not thinking much of it as Eddie was able to get around better now. He’d unfortunately stopped going to physical therapy a few weeks ago, his reasoning unknown to you. But you’d hoped it was just because he was feeling strong enough to be able to continue it on his own.

As you continued your school work, you’d sort of lost track of time. Looking up at the clock, you noticed it was getting close to nine. You figured you’d better take a break and get Eddie in the shower, hopping up from your spot and heading back to his room. You called for him, but there was no answer. That wasn’t atypical as of late, so you just knocked on his door before pushing it open. What you weren’t expecting was to find his room empty.

You do a quick check of the bathroom, but find that empty, too. Weird. You do a check of the rest of the house and find he isn’t anywhere to be found. Did he not come back inside from taking a smoke? The weather was getting nicer, so maybe he was just enjoying sitting out on the porch. Walking to the front door, you open it and look around outside. Nothing.

Panic begins to set in as you call out his name. You rush around the house again, checking extra carefully in case he managed to fall and get himself stuck somewhere, but you were the only person in this house. You’re breathing heavily as you try and think straight. Where the hell did he go? You rush outside again and circle around the premises, making sure he wasn’t in the back yard or out by the cars, but turned up nothing there, too.

“Eddie? Eddie!” You called out for him but get no answer. Bile rose in your throat and you started to feel dizzy. You rush to the edge of the tree line and try calling out for him more, but get nothing in return. Did he go into the woods? Surely not. But where else could he have gone?

You start into the brush, trying your best to see with only the moonlight to guide you through the thicket. You continued to call his name, praying that he wasn’t passed out somewhere in the woods where you wouldn’t be able to find him. Should you turn back and call Hopper? They could get some dogs out here to look for him. But what if you turning back only led him to a worse fate? 

“Eddie, please!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. You can barely see through them, not even sure where you’re going anymore. You stumble, almost hitting the ground as you lose your footing. It hits you how hard your breathing now, barely able to get a breath in in your current state. You continue through the woods until you noticed the trees started to clear just up ahead. You walked through them, stopping and doing your best to look around.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of him in the distance. His chair was illuminated by the moon and you couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through you. He was sitting close to the edge, looking down over it. 

Thank fuck, he was alive. 

You started towards him, unable to call out anymore due to your ragged breathes that you were still trying to catch up on. Your eyes never left him as you ran, finally feeling relieved as you were almost to him. But then he started moving. His wheels were dangerously close to the edge. You tried calling out to him, but it only came out as a harsh wheeze. What was he doing?

And then he wheeled forward.

It happened so fast. You were able to grab a hold of his chair just as he started to go over, doing everything you could to pull him back. A hand landed on his shoulder and with everything in you, you pulled him in his chair back from the edge. It was like slow motion as you watched him land back on top of the cliff, his body jerking harshly from the impact.

But as he flew back, you continued forward, nothing to stop your body’s momentum as you hurtled towards the edge. You got one last good look at Eddie’s shocked face before your foot went over the edge.

And you were gone. Falling, for what felt like forever. 

Until you felt a sharp pain all over your body.

And then, there was nothing.

thank you for reading!

[pineconepie]

Yan king???👀

I had a little fun with the worldbuilding because it gave me an excuse to use one of my old ideas.

I'll explain it briefly because I didn't do much explaining in the writing: there are five major kingdoms in the nation of Lepidoptra - Rosy Maple, Atlas, Luna, Death's Head, and the one where reader is from: Comet Kingdom. Everyone has wings that resemble a moth, along with antennae. (yes moths are a huge hyperfixation of mine)

Just thought I'd get that out of the way lol. Anyway, this is probably one of the most yandere characters I've written mwehehe.

TW: Attempted murder (kind of but not really), parental yandere, manipulation, implied gaslighting, infantilization

...

Ever since you could recall, your father had been very protective over you. He homeschooled you, didn't let you leave the house much, only allowed a few select friends, but those friends were also friends with your dad, and just getting paid to talk to you.

Your father would hold you as often as he could, making sure he was the first and last thing you'd see daily.

He had told you, ever since you were just a young mothling, your wings had been cut off by a robber who attempted to kidnap you, and thus, your father had to be extremely cautious in regards to keeping you safe at home.

You never left the house alone, and even if you did, you were monitored.

Sometimes, you'd get strange flashbacks. Almost like deja-vu, but these felt more vivid in your mind.

Once when you saw Castor, your father's, sword, you had a vision of yourself getting stabbed in the chest. Or when he'd look angry at you, you'd recall seeing that exact expression on his face before. But those thoughts went away as soon as they appeared.

Sometimes you'd get horrible nightmares of him. You dreamed he hurt you somehow. And yet, you'd always wake up feeling fine. Nothing hurt physically.

But mentally? Something just wasn't clicking right.

Recently you began sneaking out of the castle, not wanting to alert your father, and you began going to this little tavern at the edge of town to spend time with your village friends, ones you know for a fact your father would never dream of approving.

"Calliope, Osmond, hey," you greet warmly, walking over to their usual table in the corner, sitting down beside them.

"Hey," Calliope says, leaning her head against her hand. "How was escaping the palace? Almost got caught again?" Her bright golden wings flutter slightly as she grins.

"Nah, Dad doesn't suspect anything at all," you proudly state.

"Good, because he would have our heads," Osmond sighs. He shares an uneasy glance with Calliope, then glances back at you. "We wanted to speak to you about something unsettling we found. About your father."

You hesitate. "If this is about him and the Atlas Kingdom again, I told you already—"

"It's not about that," Calliope mutters. She pulls out a huge book from a satchel, one that barely even fits in it. "Okay, I'm about to warn you, this is weird as hell. Even Oz was weirded out."

"Well if he was unsettled by it, then I'm scared to see what it even is," you say with a breathless chuckle.

"We found it in the royal library," Osmond tells you quietly. "And well, this should explain it." He opens up the book and starts flipping through pages and pages until he lands on one in particular, pointing down at it for you to read.

It has your name and picture on it. Your full name, everything.

At first, you find it slightly strange, but think there may be some kind of explanation. Most of the pictures on the book show you when you were younger, being held on Castor's hip while he made speeches at ceremonies. He looks the same as he does now, except maybe with a bit longer hair.

Then you start seeing yourself getting older...

There's one of a memory you don't even recall, of a headline saying the "(Y/n), Child of King Castor of the Comet Kingdom, joins Arkema Mittrei, Academy" in which you're being handed over to the kingdom's most prestigious academy.

You were homeschooled, that never even happened!

Another one shows you using magic abilities, and you look older than you currently even are. And you have... wings?!

"That was our expression when we read it too," Calliope anxiously says. "We weren't supposed to be in the Royal Library since its always locked and guarded, but we managed to get in with Oz's magic. We were looking for more evidence to prove to you that your father is terrible, but instead we just stumbled upon this."

You don't know what to say. "This doesn't make any sense. I never went to any academy, and my wings..."

"And you look older in these photos," Osmond observes. "I don't know what is going on, but this is just further proof you can't trust him. I know he raised you and you love him, but he's controlling your life and clearly keeping things from you. I knew he caused a lot of meaningless wars and was incredibly paranoid about you, but this?"

"I'm at a loss for words, here," you murmur, shaking your head as you feel tears stinging in your eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to do?! Just confront my dad and hope for the best?"

Calliope puts a hand on your shoulder. "Run away with us," she proposes. "Oz's mom is in the Atlas Kingdom, we can find sanctuary there."

"No way am I just abandoning my dad with no warning," you argue. "Besides, he'd try burning down all of Atlas if he knew I was there! I'll just ask him for an explanation. I'm sure there is one."

"And risk letting him know you've been sneaking out of the kingdom?" Osmond scoffs. "Your death wish, not mine."

"Just give us at least a month or two," Calliope says. "Please. That way we can come up with a game plan."

You exhale quietly, your antennae twitching. "Okay. But no longer."

...

"Uhm, hey, Dad? I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Hm?" He peers his eyes away from the newspaper he's reading and smiles at you. "Of course! Come sit." You hesitate as he pats the seat next to him on the couch, and you reluctantly plop beside him. He hugs you closer to his chest. "So," he hums, kissing the side of your head, "what is it?"

"...have I ever went to Arkema Mittrei Academy?" You watch as his smile drops.

He glances off, contemplating a response before returning his gaze to you. "Oh, sweetheart, where did you hear that? Of course not! I think you'd remember something like that." His laugh sounds nervous. "Have you been having those scary dreams again?"

You bite your tongue. "No. I came across a book in the royal library. I know you don't like me going in there unsupervised, but I did. And I saw pictures of myself at the school, and another one where I'm older, and have my wings. Why do I have no recollection of those moments happening?"

His smile drops even more so, and now, his expression is unreadable. "Where did you get the book, baby?"

"I... uh, I got it in the royal library. I told you that," you stutter.

"How did you get in there unsupervised? There's always guards patrolling the library," Castor explains, narrowing his eyes. "Did someone help you sneak in?"

"What? No!" you lie. You start trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he holds you still.

"Baby," he soothes, almost condescendingly, "just tell Dad what he wants to know. I'm not mad."

He's lying. He's angry. You can't see the expression on his face because he's holding you so closely, but you can feel his rage boiling beneath his skin.

"No, I'm not lying. It was just left unlocked! But that's not my question, I wanna know what I saw in those! Why is there evidence of me doing and experiencing things I have zero memory of?!"

"I knew I should've burnt that damn book," he grumbles under his breath. "I thought you were doing so well this time."

"What do you mean 'this time'?!" you nearly cry, flailing so hard out of his grasp you fall to the floor.

"Oops!" Castor chuckles, standing over you with a cold grin. "Gosh, it feels like yesterday when you could hardly walk without tripping over your feet. Always so wobbly and unstable." He stands up and contemplates on something. "Alrighty, kiddo, since I'm so nice, you have two options. Bedtime and we'll forget about this, or you keep pushing me and we'll see where this takes us."

"What does that mean?" you rasp. "What will you do?"

Castor's bright wings spread out widely, as a show to intimidate you and make you feel smaller. "I really would rather we both just go to bed."

He's never hurt you in the past... "I just want to know what's going on."

"Well, for starters, all that information you think you know is irrelevant, it's been rewritten now," Castor replies nonchalantly, looking down at you. "All those things you saw happened, but you didn't experience them because that wasn't you. Not this you. The original you was too disobedient, so I had to reset and start all over again."

"Reset?!" you repeat incredulously. "What are you talking about?!"

Castor runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. Since you think an explanation is worth it. You can't die. You're immortal, just not in the same way I am. This is like..." He pauses. "...your nineteenth life or so, I believe? Once you die, you turn back into a baby. No injuries, no sickness, no memories. A clean slate. I try to avoid it, but whenever you start rebelling or growing too independent, it has to be done all over again."

"Nothing has to be done! You're killing me, just so you can what?! Watch me grow up again, exactly the same way?! What kind of twisted logic is that?!"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Castor scolds. "I'm not killing you, at least not technically. Besides, I love watching you grow, trying to find the perfect way to raise you. But it seems like no matter how I do so—whether I give you your freedom or make sure I'm the only face you see, you always end up leaving."

You shudder at his cryptic words. "Were you the one who cut off my wings?"

Castor waves a hand dismissively. "Only because you kept trying to run away with them. But they always regrow back once you're reborn." He pulls out a dagger, one you now understand why he always carries it with him.

"Dad, please..." you quietly plead, scrambling back in an attempt to stand up. "I'm sorry. We can let this go."

His eyes darken. "Not an option anymore, sweetie. You asked for answers, and you got them. Hey, maybe the twentieth time is the charm." He lunges for you, holding you down so he can lift his blade. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I promise it'll just feel like a pinch, and then you'll wake up good as new!" His expression is sweet and adoring, but also crazed.

Just as he brings the blade down and you squeeze your eyes shut, all your hear is Castor's groan of pain.

"(Y/n)!" Calliope yells, grabbing onto your hand and yanking you up.

Castor wipes the blood running down his nose, glaring at the two of your friends. "(Y/n), you made some friends, huh? Must've been sneaking out behind my back for a while if they're jumping in their own graves for you." He gets back to his feet and starts approaching. "Step away from my child before you really regret it."

"Let's go!" Osmond demands, opening up a portal in front of Calliope after she pulled you to your feet.

The three of you tumble in, right before Castor tries attacking you as well.

Then suddenly, you're back outside, standing in the forest where your kingdom stood tall. You can hear him scream in frustration from all the way out here, likely calling for guards and barking out orders.

"He knows magic too," you whisper. "He won't be too far behind."

"I can only make portals so far," Osmond murmurs. "We need to run. Now."

[robinvomit]

†  the gentle art of cat-like courtship : tim.

♦ request: not really, just fighting burnout ♦ beta’d: nope ♦ a/n: this whole set is taken from an oc background - if y'all want that background, i can post it as a like.. adoptible oc type deal, so it's easier to imagine as reader. tiny bit of info under the cut, just for context.

+ reader is from a different earth and was brought back to life via lazarus pit after some nefarious bs. she has no memories at all but still has trained instinct. jason finds her and takes her in, attempting to help and all that. anyway- moving on. ( the oc is a she/her - i did do my best to make it gn otl if there are spots fucked up --- welp. )

------

jason had grown used to your presence in his life. months had passed since he first found you; months filled with quiet companionship, late-night sparring sessions, and countless hours of sitting in comfortable silence, watching as you thumbed thoughtfully through the books he'd bring home. neither of you had anticipated it but you'd somehow slipped effortlessly into his routine, as if you'd always belonged there. even without memories, even without a past to anchor you, you'd carved a comfortable place in jason's life.

but tonight, something felt different. off, somehow.

he stood quietly at the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely over his chest, watching you carefully as you sat curled up at the far end of the couch. your legs were pulled beneath you, your eyes unfocused and fixed vaguely on the page in front of you. you'd been like this for days - distant, distracted, withdrawn - and jason had been patient, waiting for you to talk to him first. but clearly, that wasn't going to happen tonight.

finally breaking the silence, jason set his coffee mug down gently and fixed you with a pointed stare. "alright," he said slowly, his voice cautious but firm, "what's up?"

your gaze snapped up to meet his, startled as if he'd jolted you from deep thought. "what?"

"you heard me," jason said, folding his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "you've been acting weird all day. hell, you've been off all week. you're either mad about something or you're thinking way too hard. either way, i need to know if i should be worried."

you hesitated, fingers tightening instinctively around the edges of your book. silence fell again, thick and heavy between you, and jason felt the subtle shift in the air; the quiet tension he'd learned to recognize in you whenever something serious was on your mind.

"come on," he prompted gently, voice losing its playful edge. "talk to me."

at last, after what felt like an eternity, you exhaled softly and closed the book. your fingers traced nervously over the cover as you set it aside, your eyes drifting downward. it was clear you were trying to find the words, and jason gave you the space, patient even though he was dying of curiosity.

"i think…" you began slowly, your voice so quiet jason nearly had to lean forward to catch it. "i think i might like one of them."

jason blinked slowly, trying to parse what you'd just said. "wait, like - what?"

you drew a shaky breath, clearly uncomfortable with this admission. "i think i might have a crush," you clarified quietly.

jason stared at you, completely frozen. of all the things he'd imagined you saying, this had honestly never even crossed his mind. he'd prepared himself for just about anything - flashbacks, doubts about your past, questions about your place here - but never this. not you, of all people, quietly admitting to developing feelings for one of his idiot brothers.

his mouth opened and closed once, twice, before he managed a coherent response. "i…wait, what?"

you looked down quickly, embarrassment flooding your expression. "it's not that big of a deal."

jason's brain, however, was vehemently disagreeing. "not a big deal?" he repeated incredulously, running a hand through his hair and pacing a few steps across the room. "are you kidding me? you.. you barely even talk to people! you still avoid using their names half the time. forgive me if this is a bit of a shock."

your brows knitted together defensively, your posture tensing. "i'm working on it," you muttered, clearly displeased with his reaction.

he stopped pacing and turned back toward you with an exaggerated sigh, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "okay, fine. fine. you're right, you're working on it. whatever. but seriously, who is it?"

again you hesitated, clearly conflicted. the anxiety radiating from you was almost palpable, and jason felt the beginnings of dread clawing at his chest. he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, bracing himself for the worst.

"oh god," he muttered, watching you carefully. "i'm going to hate this, aren't i?"

you sighed deeply, resigned. "probably."

jason let out a dramatic groan and slumped onto the couch beside you, tilting his head back against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling. "please," he pleaded softly, "please tell me it's not damian. i swear to god, if it's damian-"

you snorted despite yourself, breaking the tension just a little. "no, it's definitely not damian."

jason visibly relaxed, his entire body slumping back into the cushions with relief. "oh, thank god," he breathed, pressing a hand dramatically over his heart. "kid's already territorial enough. i don't need him acting like a jealous guard dog."

but your silence lingered, heavy and telling, and jason tensed again, realization dawning across his face. his gaze turned sharp and searching, his tone cautious but resigned. "it's one of them, though, isn't it? it's definitely one of my dumbass brothers."

you didn't respond, your face heating rapidly as you avoided his eyes. jason groaned loudly, dramatically flopping backward onto the couch and covering his face with both hands.

"this is actually the worst thing that could have happened to me," he lamented, voice muffled through his fingers. "i finally got used to you being this mysterious, cryptic little stray, and now i have to come to terms with the fact that you've gone and developed a crush on one of them."

"you're being dramatic," you muttered, trying not to smile.

jason removed his hands just long enough to shoot you a wounded look. "yes. yes, i am being dramatic. because i just got comfortable with you existing quietly and broodingly in my space and now i have to deal with feelings? and crushes? it's too much."

"you act like i planned this," you replied defensively.

jason groaned again, finally sitting up and shaking his head. he gave you a sidelong glance, resigned but determined. "okay, fine. let's just rip the band-aid off. which one is it?"

you looked at him cautiously, biting the inside of your cheek. his expression shifted slowly from confusion to realization, and then finally, to absolute horror.

"oh my god," he whispered, voice filled with disbelief. "it's tim, isn't it?"

your cheeks flared hot, and you immediately looked away. jason burst out laughing again, though this time it was equal parts disbelief and astonishment. "tim? seriously? of all my brothers - wait, of all the people in gotham - you chose tim?"

"shut up!" you groaned, half-heartedly pushing at his shoulder. jason dodged easily, still wheezing with laughter.

"i just don't understand how this happened!" he gasped out between fits of laughter. "what was it? did he ramble about some obscure computer software or historical trivia? did you imprint on him like some kind of baby duck?"

you buried your face back into your hands, regretting every life choice you'd ever made. "i hate you," you muttered miserably.

oh, it wasn't even close to over.

jason was still laughing, though - so hard, in fact, that his sides had begun to ache, and tears stung the corners of his eyes. he'd never expected this day to come, not in a million years, and certainly not under these circumstances. of all the revelations, of all the possibilities, this was the very last thing he'd imagined happening. he had been ready for anything else: resurfaced trauma, existential crises, maybe even your sudden decision to abandon the vigilante life. but this? this took the cake.

"you-" he paused, wheezing as he struggled to catch his breath, "oh, god, please tell me you're messing with me, because i cannot wait to see his face when he finds out."

he expected some sort of sarcastic retort - at worst, perhaps, you'd throw a cushion at his head, or at best, you'd roll your eyes and threaten his life. that was your way, after all; stoic, quiet, but certainly never passive when provoked. instead, the silence stretched on for longer than felt comfortable, and when jason finally regained his composure enough to glance your way, he froze.

you weren't laughing. you weren't even glaring at him with mild annoyance or irritation. your face was hidden behind your palms, shoulders drawn tight, the entire curve of your spine rigid with tension. the atmosphere shifted instantly from playful teasing to something deeper, something more serious. he could practically feel the anxiety radiating off you in waves and suddenly, all amusement drained away, replaced swiftly by concern.

"hey, wait," he said softly, lowering his voice into something careful and gentle as he shifted closer. he tried to get a better look at your face, tried to read you as carefully as he had learned to over these past few months, but you refused to lift your head. "hey. come on, look at me. what's wrong?"

you swallowed hard, your throat tightening painfully as you shook your head. "i'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible, barely there, as though speaking louder might make it all somehow worse. "i shouldn't have said anything."

jason blinked in confusion, caught off guard by your sudden and unexpected remorse. this wasn't at all what he'd intended. "wait, wait - sorry?" he asked incredulously. "for what? what do you have to be sorry about?"

your fingers curled tightly into fists, knuckles turning white as they twisted into the fabric of your sweater. the silence stretched painfully between you again, heavy and suffocating, until finally you spoke, your voice trembling and uncertain. "i just.. i don't know. is it bad? did i.. did i mess things up?"

jason's chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in your tone. it was suddenly clear to him just how deeply this was affecting you. to him, it had seemed hilarious, harmless - just a silly crush, something to tease you mercilessly about, something to hold over your head for years to come. but to you, it was serious. it was real. it was terrifying.

"you really think liking tim is something to apologize for?" jason asked gently, shifting closer until he could rest his arm lightly against yours. his voice had completely lost its earlier teasing lilt, replaced entirely by genuine concern and compassion. "look, i was just messing around. i was laughing because, well - because that's what brothers do. i never meant to make you feel like you'd done something wrong."

when you finally lifted your gaze, your eyes were wide and filled with a raw uncertainty that made jason's heart twist sharply. you drew a shaky breath, visibly struggling to keep your voice steady. "it just feels…weird," you admitted, your eyes flickering away quickly, as if afraid you'd see judgment reflected back at you. "he's a sarcastic asshole, and sometimes he's frustrating. but he's kind of sweet. and he remembers my favorite snacks.. he remembers my coffee order, even though i never told him. he just knew, somehow, and that means something. it means something to me."

jason sat quietly beside you, absorbing your words as he felt the weight of their meaning settle over him. he'd been so busy teasing you, so absorbed in the shock and humor of the situation, that he hadn't stopped to consider how deeply you must feel. you'd spent months without memories, months without an identity of your own, desperately searching for anything real and tangible to hold onto and now here it was, your first genuine connection, your first real feeling. of course it terrified you.

he let out a long, slow breath, reaching over carefully to nudge your knee with his own until you finally looked back at him again. "listen," he began softly, "is it weird? yeah, okay, sure.. it's definitely a little weird. i mean, it's tim. but liking someone - especially someone who treats you well and makes you happy? there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. you deserve to have something good, especially after everything you've been through."

your shoulders visibly relaxed at his words, tension slowly melting from your frame as though you'd finally been granted permission to breathe. jason saw the subtle shift, the relief washing through you as you absorbed the sincerity in his reassurance, and he felt the heaviness in his own chest ease slightly.

"besides," jason continued after a moment, his tone carefully shifting back toward the lighter side to ease the last lingering discomfort, "if he ever screws up or hurts you, even a little, you know i'll kick his ass, right? no hesitation. brotherly duties and all."

the tension shattered abruptly as a small, genuine laugh escaped you, soft but unmistakably real. your hand came up quickly, brushing away the lingering moisture at the corners of your eyes as you shook your head in mild amusement. "i still hate you, jason," you muttered, though the warmth in your voice betrayed the lie.

he grinned widely, looping an affectionate arm around your shoulders and squeezing gently. "nah," he retorted easily, leaning back comfortably against the couch, "you love me."

you didn't bother to argue this time, just smiled faintly and shook your head, exasperation warring with reluctant affection in your gaze. jason chuckled quietly, satisfied. he knew, deep down, he'd never tire of this—never tire of being the annoying, protective big brother you'd never known you needed.

and judging by the tiny, barely-there smile that lingered at the corners of your lips, you felt exactly the same way.

tim drake was genuinely confused.

you had been acting strange lately, though admittedly, "strange" was a relative term. it wasn't as if you were usually predictable - far from it - but lately your behavior had taken an unexpected turn, one he couldn't quite figure out how to interpret.

you weren't doing anything wrong or unpleasant; just something…out of character.

first, there was the hovering. tim noticed it subtly at first, because you'd never exactly been the type to actively seek out company. normally, you preferred your solitude, keeping to yourself and rarely initiating interactions. but lately, he'd find you sitting nearby whenever he worked at the batcomputer. you'd position yourself at an adjacent console, your presence quiet yet undeniably there, a silent comfort that he'd grown accustomed to without even realizing it. even getting coffee had changed. now he'd glance up from the counter to find you standing there quietly, as if you'd materialized from nowhere, comfortably existing in his orbit.

then there were the touches. small gestures, innocent enough to overlook at first: a gentle bump of your shoulder against his as you passed him in the hallways, the soft brush of your knee against his when you sat beside him. each time was brief, subtle, almost accidental - except tim was too observant not to notice the frequency and consistency of these small acts. they happened far too often now to simply dismiss as chance.

but it was the snack that truly threw him off.

it wasn't even the snack itself, really. people brought each other food all the time. it was the way you had dropped it so abruptly in front of him, eyes downcast, before promptly retreating without a single word. the entire exchange had felt oddly meaningful, as if you were trying to communicate something tim was too oblivious to catch. he'd stared at the snack - a bag of his favorite chips, no less - and felt utterly lost.

finally admitting that he was completely out of his depth, tim had sought out the one person who might offer clarity: dick grayson. dick always seemed to understand these sorts of things instinctively. relationships, social cues, the complexities of people; dick was good at it all. if anyone could translate your behavior into something tim could grasp, it would be him.

he'd found dick lounging on the couch at the manor, scrolling lazily through his phone. when tim had awkwardly described your recent behavior, carefully trying not to sound too confused or desperate for answers, dick had initially just stared at him blankly. then, as realization slowly crept across dick's face, he'd broken into an enormous grin.

"oh my god," dick muttered, eyes sparkling with sudden amusement. "y/n's a cat."

tim blinked, utterly bewildered. "…what?"

dick burst into laughter, loud enough to echo through the room. "no, seriously," he said between chuckles, clearly delighted by this revelation. "they're literally acting like a cat!"

tim frowned, trying to puzzle out what exactly dick meant by that. "wait - hold on. what does that even mean?"

dick's grin widened impossibly further, and he threw an affectionate arm around tim's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "buddy," he said warmly, voice thick with amusement, "they like you."

tim froze completely, eyes widening, his thoughts spinning rapidly in circles as he tried to process what dick had just casually tossed out into the air. "they.. wait, what?"

dick laughed again, giving tim's shoulder an affectionate shake. "come on, tim, think about it! they're hovering around you, nudging you for attention, bringing you gifts," he said, ticking off each point dramatically on his fingers, clearly enjoying tim's growing embarrassment and dawning realization. "they're basically courting you like a stray cat!"

tim stared straight ahead, suddenly remembering every small moment; the soft brushes of your shoulder, the silent comfort of your presence, and the snack left pointedly before him like an offering. slowly, the pieces clicked into place, each subtle action suddenly infused with clear meaning.

oh.

oh.

he'd never even realized you were capable of expressing yourself in such quietly affectionate ways. and now that he understood, now that the implications were becoming painfully clear, he felt his cheeks warming dramatically, his pulse quickening as his heart raced.

dick must have caught the look on his face, because he erupted into fresh peals of laughter, patting tim's shoulder sympathetically. "oh man, you're completely gone for them, aren't you?"

tim opened his mouth to protest, but the words died instantly on his tongue. instead, he simply stood there in stunned silence, the truth hitting him like a ton of bricks. he swallowed, trying - and failing - to calm the rapid fluttering in his chest.

because dick, annoyingly, was absolutely right.

the next day was nothing short of torture for tim drake. you, of course, were acting completely normal - normal by your standards, at least. that meant quiet, thoughtful, and unmistakably cat-like. you moved through the batcave with your usual quiet confidence, seemingly oblivious to the internal meltdown you'd inadvertently caused.

but tim? tim was absolutely losing his mind.

now that dick had so kindly pointed out your subtle affections - your feline gestures, your quiet offerings, and your gentle nudges - tim couldn't help but notice every tiny movement you made. every action felt meaningful, every brush of contact deliberate. his senses were dialed up to eleven, hyper-aware of you in a way he had never been before, and he felt entirely unprepared to deal with it.

when you walked into the briefing room that morning and lightly brushed your shoulder against his as you passed, tim nearly short-circuited on the spot. he'd been staring blankly at the computer monitor, completely focused on a set of data points, and suddenly your quiet, casual touch was enough to send sparks dancing beneath his skin, jolting him from his thoughts and leaving him utterly speechless.

and it only got worse from there.

later, when you approached him holding two cups of coffee—one for yourself and one precisely matching tim's usual order—he froze entirely, eyes wide as he stared down at the offered cup in shock. he blinked slowly, utterly stunned by the realization that dick had been completely right: you'd memorized something as simple and seemingly meaningless as how he took his coffee. something warm and sweet bloomed deep in his chest, and he barely managed a quiet, stunned "thanks," before retreating to the safety of his work once again.

but the final blow came when you stretched lazily near the batcomputer, your arms rising slowly above your head as you arched your back slightly; just like a cat waking from a long nap. tim, completely unprepared for the sight, felt heat rush to his face so rapidly he was sure he'd spontaneously combust if he didn't remove himself immediately. he quickly turned on his heel and walked away, practically fleeing the room before he embarrassed himself further.

jason, of course, noticed instantly.

"you're acting weird," jason said smugly, leaning against a nearby table, clearly amused by tim's discomfort.

tim shot him a fierce glare, though it lacked real heat. "no, i'm not."

jason chuckled, folding his arms across his chest with a knowing look. "oh, you absolutely are. you're practically twitching."

tim scowled and pointedly turned his attention back to the stack of files in front of him, determined not to engage further. jason laughed softly to himself, entirely too pleased with the unfolding drama. but jason's amusement was the least of tim's worries. he had a far bigger problem on his hands:

you liked him.

and the truth was, tim liked you too.

but acknowledging that openly - expressing it directly - felt overwhelming and complicated. he knew you weren't the type of person to declare your feelings outright. in combat, you were direct and efficient, but emotionally? emotionally, you spoke through subtle actions, gestures, quiet touches and thoughtful gifts. that meant if tim wanted you to understand how he felt, if he wanted you to really know… he'd have to learn to speak your language.

tim swallowed nervously, glancing back toward you across the room, still casually leaning against the batcomputer, reading through mission notes. his heart sped up, nerves tangling uncomfortably in his chest as he made a quiet decision.

he was going to have to be a cat too.

tim had never been the physically affectionate type. he liked his personal space, often keeping a careful distance from others unless closeness was absolutely necessary. it wasn't personal; it was just who he was. but with you, he found himself willing - no, needing - to make an exception.

he waited until later that evening, when the cave had grown quiet and calm, the soft glow of monitors illuminating the space in shades of blue. you were seated on one of the chairs, legs curled comfortably beneath you as you silently scanned through documents on a tablet. summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, tim quietly settled into the seat beside yours, his pulse loud in his ears as he deliberately brushed his knee against yours, just gently enough to seem accidental, but intentional enough to be noticed.

you paused, your eyes briefly flickering away from the screen, landing curiously on his face as you assessed the situation. tim kept his expression neutral, forcing himself not to react outwardly even as his heart raced wildly in his chest. for one nerve-wracking moment, you said nothing, clearly processing what he'd done.

he nudged you again, a little more confidently this time, meeting your gaze with a calmness he absolutely did not feel inside. your head tilted slightly to one side, eyes softening with cautious curiosity, your attention fully shifting from the tablet to him. tim continued to casually sip his coffee, feigning complete nonchalance even as he waited anxiously for your reaction, afraid he might have misread everything and humiliated himself.

then, slowly, deliberately, your lips twitched upward into the barest hint of a smile, and without breaking eye contact, you gently nudged him back.

tim's heart nearly stopped entirely, relief and joy flooding him so strongly he was sure you could sense it. he had done it. he'd taken the risk, spoken your language, and finally bridged the gap between you.

and now?

well, now there was no going back and honestly, tim didn't mind at all.

it began quietly. so quietly, in fact, that at first neither of you even realized it was happening. the subtle gestures between you and tim unfolded slowly and gradually, small moments building layer by gentle layer into something unmistakably meaningful. you weren't one for grand declarations, and neither was tim; instead, your affection took the shape of quiet touches and thoughtful gestures, a shared language only the two of you understood.

tim discovered quickly that the simplest things could hold deep meaning. he'd be hunched over the computer late at night, shoulders tight with exhaustion, eyes gritty from too many hours staring at screens, when you'd appear silently at his side, setting down a steaming mug of coffee exactly how he liked it. no words spoken - just quiet acknowledgment. and tim, feeling warmth spread steadily through his chest, would respond by sliding one of your favorite protein bars wordlessly across the table toward you, watching from the corner of his eye as you accepted it with an almost shy tilt of your head, a quiet smile tugging at your lips.

this was flirting now, apparently. this careful exchange of snacks and drinks had become your language, your gentle way of acknowledging something neither of you was quite ready to speak aloud. it became a comforting routine, these small gestures exchanged daily, the quiet affection underlying every small offering becoming a foundation upon which your relationship slowly, naturally grew.

but it didn't stop there.

tim quickly learned to anticipate the small brushes of your shoulder against his, those casual little bumps you'd give him whenever you passed by in the batcave, training room, or even just in the hallways. after a few times, he decided to test his confidence, bumping you back gently but firmly - just enough to draw your attention, enough to coax that amused smirk onto your face, the one he quickly discovered he liked far more than he should.

the physical interactions grew bolder, though never losing their subtlety. after particularly grueling training sessions, you'd collapse onto the couch in the lounge area, your limbs tired and your eyes half-closed, and tim found himself staying put instead of politely moving to give you space. at first, you'd both remain motionless, carefully gauging each other's reactions out of the corner of your eyes. but gradually, you'd allow yourselves to relax into that shared space, the distance between you growing smaller with every passing evening.

and then came the night you fully tested the waters.

it was quiet in the manor, the air peaceful, almost serene. tim was curled on the couch, engrossed in case files, hair tousled from hours of concentration, glasses sliding slightly down his nose. you appeared suddenly, silent as always, but instead of simply settling near him, you boldly dropped onto the cushion directly next to him. he glanced up, startled but pleased by your sudden proximity, and his heart immediately started racing when, without hesitation, you shifted closer and carefully leaned your weight into his side.

tim froze. every muscle in his body stiffened, his pulse roaring loudly in his ears. he felt certain you must be able to hear his heartbeat thudding against his ribs, betraying his attempt at calm. for one fleeting moment, tim was convinced he might genuinely die from sheer nerves.

but he stayed still - utterly still. he'd learned enough from you by now to understand the significance of moments like these. you'd taken the step closer, testing, waiting to see how he'd react. tim forced himself to take slow, steady breaths, gently allowing himself to relax into the warmth of your touch, quietly savoring the soft press of your shoulder against his own.

seconds passed by painfully slowly, and when he finally felt you relax fully against him, he allowed himself a small, relieved exhale, warmth flooding his chest as he realized he'd done the right thing. he had passed your quiet test. the intimacy of the moment was delicate, precious, and fragile and yet it felt perfectly natural. right.

no words needed to be exchanged. instead, he adjusted his position subtly, just enough to give you more room, inviting you silently to settle deeper against him if you wished. and when you did exactly that—breathing out a contented sigh, your head gently tilting until it rested comfortably against his shoulder; tim felt the tension drain fully from his body, replaced instead by a quiet, powerful sense of joy.

this was their language now, your mutual understanding crafted through quiet gestures and gentle touches. this was the way you communicated, careful and intentional. neither of you rushed, neither of you pushed. you simply waited, patient and observant, watching and responding to each other's small signals, your affection growing naturally through a quiet, mutual understanding.

and as tim sat there with you leaning softly against him, warmth blooming steadily in his chest, he realized that he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

the batcave was strangely peaceful tonight, bathed in the familiar glow of the massive computer monitors, the hum of their cooling fans the only ambient sound. it was the kind of quiet that rarely existed in gotham; a calm without tension, a silence that invited peace rather than caution. jason was out with dick on patrol, damian was off handling a lead of his own, and even bruce was absent, leaving the cavernous space solely to tim.. and to you.

tim had been working steadily at the computer for hours, fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard as he typed his reports, but his mind refused to fully focus. his thoughts continually wandered, drawn inexorably toward the warmth beside him, the gentle presence of you quietly seated just inches away. every now and then your arm brushed against his, causing a warmth to settle comfortably beneath his skin, making his heart quicken in ways he wasn't quite ready to admit.

neither of you spoke, but that was hardly unusual. silence had become your shared language, comfortable and familiar. tim didn't need words to know you were watching him, just as he was acutely aware of your breathing, steady and calming beside him. tonight, though, your closeness felt more deliberate, the small touches more intentional, as though you were both inching toward something inevitable.

tim forced himself to focus on the files in front of him, desperately trying to keep his thoughts in line, but it quickly proved impossible. he paused mid-keystroke, feeling your presence more keenly than ever, and finally gave up the pretense of work. slowly, he turned his chair toward you, meeting your quiet, watchful gaze head-on.

your eyes met his immediately, steady and calm, betraying no hint of uncertainty. it sent a jolt through his chest, because you'd never looked at him quite like this before - openly, gently, yet deeply serious. for a moment, neither of you moved. neither dared break the silence, afraid it might fracture this delicate, perfect moment.

your head tilted slightly, curiosity and something deeper sparkling in your eyes. tim felt his pulse speed up, the gentle tension between you stretching almost unbearably thin, until finally it snapped not with a sudden break, but with a slow, gentle surrender.

without thinking, tim leaned forward ever so slightly, and you mirrored the movement with quiet confidence, meeting him halfway. your noses bumped softly, foreheads brushing gently together in a gesture you'd both grown quietly accustomed to. it was your gesture now; an intimate, cat-like acknowledgment you'd both come to treasure. it spoke of trust, understanding and everything that had brought you together. this silent gesture had become your personal confession, your quiet way of admitting all the things neither of you could say aloud.

you paused there for a heartbeat, your breath warm as it ghosted softly against his lips, eyes half-closed and uncertain. your fingers twitched at your side, as if unsure whether or not it was safe to reach out to him fully. tim didn't rush you, didn't move to push or pressure. he waited, offering you the patience and gentle acceptance he knew you needed.

finally, you seemed to make your decision. your nose nudged softly against his once more; delicate, playful, sweetly affectionate. and tim, heart racing, tilted his face just enough that his lips brushed softly against yours, a whisper-light kiss filled with the quiet certainty he'd longed to communicate. it lasted only a second, yet it carried the weight of everything you'd both felt for so long, everything you'd tried to say without words.

when you slowly drew back, your eyes fluttered open, your expression vulnerable but unmistakably happy. a soft smile played at the corners of your lips, teasing yet warm, filled with gentle triumph. "well," you murmured quietly, voice barely above a whisper, though still rich with soft amusement, "i think that counts."

tim let out a breathless, slightly dazed laugh, the sound barely audible in the quiet of the batcave. he couldn't quite tear his gaze from yours, feeling strangely weightless, his usual composure completely gone. "yeah," he finally managed softly, "i think it definitely does."

a faint smile tugged at your lips again, softer and warmer this time, as you nudged your nose lightly against his one more time before pulling back. neither of you retreated far, just enough to comfortably settle into a new reality. your knee bumped gently against his, casual but deliberate, affectionate and unmistakably yours.

"obviously," you teased gently, a smile tugging openly at your lips now, warmth radiating from you.

tim felt something shift deep in his chest - peaceful, sure, and powerful. without hesitation, he nudged you back, the gentle push slightly firmer, enough to earn another soft, genuine laugh from you. your quiet acceptance, your simple confidence in this unspoken language of yours, filled tim with a quiet sense of wonder and happiness he'd rarely experienced in his life.

and just like that, with silent gestures and soft glances, you'd solidified everything you'd quietly built. with one gentle kiss, one careful touch, you'd transformed everything you shared from something quietly unspoken into something real, tangible, and beautifully undeniable.

neither of you needed to say another word, because from that moment onward, there was no question:

this was your language. this was your love.

this was simply you.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | eleven.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 6.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, san x oc talk a bit, talking also leads to other things 🤭, a quickie in san’s office, riding him on the chair hehehe, covering his mouth cause he gets a lil loud, flashback scene is just ppl talkin about this whole thing and switching up 😭, san x iseul x yunho moment, the start of namjoon’s stress chronicles pt. 2, some overthinking and pondering decisions

san: goodmorning my love. i hope you slept well. i'm sorry to upset you last night, and i'm sorry i put you in that position. i wasn't thinking and acted impulsively. let me know if i can get a few mins with you at some point - i still wanna talk to you. i miss you, baby. have a good day today, okay?

You wake up a little later than expected, and it has you rushing out the door before you can even respond to San's text. You do feel bad for not responding right away but truthfully, you just needed to get your mind together and be in your own space to try and figure out what the hell was going on.

You were starting to get scared and you weren't sure where this would lead you and San. You knew what you were getting into, but the last thing you wanted was for San to get in trouble— especially him, not you.

"Hey ma." You answer the call on your way to class, tugging your bag strap up on your shoulder.

"Hi lovey." She says cheerfully even though she's coming off of a shift.

"Did you just get off of work?" She sighs as she slams her car door and hops in, the call being picked up on the bluetooth.

"Yeah, we're a bit short-staffed so I picked up another shift. I came in around 7pm last night." You nod.

"Well, try to take it easy."

"I will. Are you on your way to class? How's it all going?"

"Um." You pause. "It's alright. But, yeah. I'm on my way over."

"Uh oh." She teases. "Wanna come home this weekend so you can tell me all about it while we get our nails done?"

"Actually, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Okay, babe." She chuckles. "You sure you're okay?" You nod even though you feel your heart drop, tears threatening to spill this early in the morning.

"Yeah, I am. I just have lots of stuff to update you on."

"Okay. Can't wait. Have a good day, hun. Make sure you take your breaks properly, eat and hydrate well."

"I will, mom. I love you."

"Love you too!" The call ends and you suddenly feel alone although the campus has moving parts, bodies floating around to move from point A to point B. You tuck your phone into your bag, fully deciding you'll get to San in between classes today. You do plan to stop by the lab to wean your mice really quickly at some point; maybe you'll deal with San then.

Which is crazy to think about cause that's exactly how things unfold.

Your first class of the day drags on, the lecture today being packed with a ton of overwhelming information. You've already got a few assignments for this class alone, causing you to huff out a heavy sigh when you write it all down in your planner and try to organize your to-do list. When class finally wraps up, you take your time packing up before heading to lab to work on the mice. You grab a parfait to go, quietly eating away as you make your way to the basement. The very back door to the west wing basement is the closest to the café you grabbed the parfait from, so you easily make your way over and toss your empty cup into the trash just as you tackle the steps and head downstairs to the door. When you pull out your badge and get ready to tap it against the reader, the door swings open and causes you to jump aside to prevent yourself from getting hit.

"Oh, I'm sorry—" San stops in his steps. "Y/N?"

"San." You breathe out, clutching your bag tighter. You weren't expecting to run into him now, but you suppose the universe had other plans for you.

"Hey." He fully steps outside and lets the door shut close. You can't help but automatically glance at him from head to toe; he's wearing denim on denim, and you realize he's the only person who could truly pull off the look. He's got on a denim button-up and jeans, chucks. Sleeves are rolled up halfway. He digs his hands into his pockets, soft black hair framing his face. You can smell his cologne from where you stand.

You're not standing very far from him when you should be creating more distance.

"Hi."

"Going into lab?"

"For a second, yeah. I gotta wean my mice before my PI gets mad at me." You look up at him and he chuckles a bit, biting onto his lip.

"For the record, I could never be mad at you." You slightly scoff and playfully roll your eyes. 

"Sure, Professor Choi." You pause. "I'm sorry I haven't responded to your text. I was meaning to come see you later, but I guess now is a good time, too?" 

"Uh, yeah. I gotta meet Jongho and Namjoon to plan out this proposal for the space in the new building." You nod. "But, it's not for a bit. Was just gonna grab some food before heading over."

"Goodluck."

"Thanks, love." He clears his throat. "Wanna give me a quick run down of what happened yesterday? With Yunho and Iseul?"

"Don't let me get in the way of you getting food."

"You're not. I can always grab some after."

"Are you sure?" He nods.

"You're more important." He lets out a breath. "So, what happened?"

"Yunho said he thought he saw me at the conference, that's all. I know he was gonna try to get it out of me, but students started walking into class."

"I didn't even know he was there."

"Well, I clearly didn't either. He said he stopped by last minute cause he was in the area." San sighs. "Iseul knew about it, too. I saw the way she looked at me when I walked out." You look up at him with innocent eyes, and it makes him weak. "San, we need to be more careful and this isn't helping."

"Well, that's why I wanted you to come over so we could talk about this in private. Why haven't you texted me back, angel? I know there's a reason. Are you still angry with me?" He asks so gently and so sweetly it makes your knees buckle. But at this very moment, Iseul is passing by the stairway, on her way back to the office after a meeting in the west wing of the Harvey Center. She doesn't typically pass this way but today, the conference room was closer to the back end, and she wanted to stop by the nearby café to grab another cup of coffee— excited to try the seasonal flavors on the menu that just arrived.

As she passes the stairway that leads towards the very back west wing basement door, she hears muffled talking echoing from below and can't necessarily help herself.

"I just.. don't know right now, San. It feels like everything is crumbling and I don't know how to feel. Jiung knows, and he thinks you forced me into this for the lab—"

"What? You told him that wasn't true, right?" His tone rises slightly, but it's enough for you to remind him to keep it down. It's also enough for Iseul to just slightly peek over the edge to confirm who is speaking near the back end basement doors;

And of course it's you and San.

No one ever passes through this way, and of course San would be taking that opportunity.

"Obviously." You sigh. "I'm just saying, people are onto us. The happy hour thing was probably the cherry on top."

"I got angry and I acted on impulse, I'm sorry." He reaches for your hand and as much as you wanna hold onto it tightly, you can't. You just let him take it in his, his lips lightly grazing the surface of your hand. "Can we take this to my office?"

"I thought you were on your way out."

"And I told you I've got a few minutes to spare. Please?" He pleads and you simply nod, removing your hand from his hold just as he badges in and leads the way to his office. Iseul lets out a breath as she continues on her way, texting her husband the exact scene that just unfolded in front of her.

iseul: i just saw san and y/n talking by the basement doors. he was holding her hand and kissing it.

yunho: so what now?

iseul: i told you i'm gonna try to catch san later. if he doesn't wanna admit to it then i'm going to namjoon.

yunho: iseul.

iseul: yunho, no. i can see the look you're giving me already. they're being way too obvious on campus now, and he better be grateful that i'm just trying to look out for him.

yunho: okay.

That's all Yunho replies with because what else can he say? He knows Iseul is stubborn, and he knows she won't change her mind. He agrees that it's wrong but he's not sure if they're overstepping.

Maybe Iseul really was looking out for him. He'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt because she's right.

This is wrong.

He's convinced this is all wrong because of her.

When you get to the basement, it's as empty as can be and you couldn't even be more relieved while trailing behind San. He looks down at his watch again, fiddling with the door lock and handle before he swings it open.

"Are you sure you even have enough time to spare?" You ask as he locks the door and makes his way over to you.

"Swear."

"We should make this quick before people come back to the basement."

"You know people are always in and out of here."

"Still."

"Why are you upset, love? Talk to me."

"I just don't know what to do. Your ex seems to be onto us the most, and they probably saw the whole thing go down yesterday. You were like.. angry-angry, San, and it was obvious—" You don't even realize you're going on and on about the same thing until San cups your cheeks, softly shushing you; trying to keep the peace by easing you.

"Baby." He says softly, his eyes looking into yours. "Baby, don't worry about this right now. I'm sure it will all blow over—"

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then, I'll face it when the time comes but—"

"San."

"We'll figure it out." He reassures again, even though truthfully and honestly, he's not sure what that means. He's not sure what he'll do if it actually unfolds out of hand, he's not sure what he'll tell you if things do go wrong. He's not sure how he'll be able to salvage everything even if he wants to more than anything in this world 

He just doesn't work on empty promises like that.

"I'll never let anything happen to you. I'll take care of this." He adds.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, though." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Nothing will. Just— just trust me like you've already been doing, okay?"

"Okay." You respond softly, hands resting on his wrists as he continues to cup your cheeks— thumb caressing the surface while his eyes roam over your features.

"I'm sorry for yesterday and I'm sorry you've been upset."

"It's alright."

"I missed you."

"I'm sorry, Sannie. I just needed a moment."

"You don't have to apologize, sweetheart." He kisses the tip of your nose before chuckling. "Although, I'll still beat his ass for trying to put his hands on you the way he did."

"He was such a dumbass." You roll your eyes. "I am grateful for you being there in time, though."

"Yeah, well. Couldn't really do much, but I'm glad you ended up okay." He's still looking at you, his thumb now lightly tracing your bottom lip. He looks deep into your eyes and he can't help but feel like mush; knees getting weak, heart melting at the way he looks at you. He prays to God nothing happens with all this going on because he's afraid to lose you.

He's afraid he can't lose you.

When he looks at you, he feels a sense of calmness. He sees the affection and adoration swirling in those orbs of yours. Your entire being radiating warmth and love. He'd hate for Iseul and Yunho to take away the one thing that has finally kept him grounded. But, he wouldn't put it past them and that's what scares him the most.

They hadn't stopped to think about their actions before. And for someone like San, who loves so hard and trusts wholeheartedly, he just didn't think the love of his life and his bestfriend would ever do that to him.

This is how everything has unfolded and he'd hate for them to be the reason behind all of this, too.

"Baby." He calls for you, and you don't respond verbally. The way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, caressing you and keeping you close, is enough for you to dip forward and meet him in a sweet kiss. You hear him exhale as he cups your cheeks and takes the kiss, deepening it as you stand in the middle of his office. Your hands grip at his sides as your tongue fights for dominance with his, the kiss easily turning into a sloppy, wet mess. "Fuck, baby." He sighs. "Need you."

"Here?" He nods. He rushes over to his chair, bringing you onto his lap. His eyes are full of desire, lust— pleading for you to give him all of you. "Sannie."

"We'll make it quick." He smirks, hands coming up your thighs to hike up your maxi skirt just enough; thumb immediately finding your clothed core. "No one's around. Just us." You shut your eyes in pleasure, already aching, craving, for him bad. "You do know how to keep quiet, right?" He teases, watching as you continue to react to the way he's touching you.

"Mm— shouldn't I be asking you?" You tease back, fiddling with his belt and undoing his jeans to release his heavy, hard cock. 

"Brat." He chuckles. "Ride me." 

"So demanding." You playfully roll your eyes the moment you position his cock at your entrance, shutting them close when you ease down his length. He lets out a soft, breathless groan, head cocked back against the chair as he tries to adjust to the feeling. "Fuck, San."

"Yeah, baby. It's all yours." He whispers, looking at you through hooded lids. You pick up your pace, working your hips back and forth; dragging your walls against his member. You let out a quiet moan against his lips, San whispering a string of cuss words as you roll your hips—

Driving him to insanity.

"Missed you so much. My perfect girl." He mutters. He can't even help himself when he feels you tighten around him, letting out a moan that might be a little too loud for your liking. 

"Sannie." You whine a bit, covering his mouth with your hand as you continue to push and push towards the edge, clit rubbing against him so deliciously you feel like you'll come undone sooner than later. You watch as San's face contorts in pleasure— pretty brows knitting together, tightly as his eyes shut close. He's murmuring small moans against the palm of your hand, whining and begging for you to cum first because you always come first.

And it doesn't take long before you do.

Your movements become sloppy while San continues to grip your ass in an attempt to help guide you; his cock filling you up perfectly as you bounce up and down before resorting back to rolling your hips against him. It takes two, three, four turns before you press your forehead against San's and unravel in his hold. 

"Ohhhh—fuck—gonna cum—" You gasp just as San fucks upward into you once, twice— releasing his load into you and filling you up with every last bit. He lets out choked moans against your hand, panting and heavily breathing when you feel like it's safe to finally remove it.

"Good god, sweetheart." He breathes. "I'll never get tired of this." You giggle, kissing him sweetly on the lips before slowly removing yourself from his length. You both let out small breaths, San keeping you near so he can wipe you down with a napkin before tending to himself. 

"Hopefully no one's in the basement still." You fix your skirt and get yourself together.

"Uh, not like you had anything to worry about. You seemed to have that under control the entire time." You laugh.

"Taking precautionary measures since we need to."

"That was kinda fun, though." San smirks. "Maybe we should do that more often." He stands to adjust his jeans and fixes his belt.

"Did our little fight just go over your head?" You joke and he sighs.

"Fine." He playfully rolls his eyes. "We'll just keep it to the bedroom."

"You're so annoying." You smile. "You should get to your meeting before you end up being late."

"I will, boss lady." He puckers his lips. "Just one more." You shake your head and meet him for another kiss.

"Bye Professor Choi." 

"Bye baby." He smiles, subtly biting onto his bottom lip as he watches you sway your hips and walk out. As soon as the door shuts, he feels empty. He misses you already and he can't wait to spend time with you again.

"Oh shit—Sunwoo!" You almost shriek just as you come out of San's office. You're afraid he might've heard something, or that he might even sense it, see it on you, with the way he cocks a brow up and tilts his head to the side. "You scared me." He laughs, though it's obvious he's kinda confused as to why you're so startled by his presence.

"You okay?" 

"Mhm." You hum.

"Meeting with Professor Choi?" He gives you a look again and you feel like your ass is on fire. Sunwoo has probably gotten wind of the whole thing and now he's trying to read you.

"Just a quick last minute check-in."

"Oh, that's nice he let you pop in. Everything all good with your progress and stuff? Think you'll stay so you can continue being my right hand?" You laugh and shrug. 

"Maybe. We'll see. But yeah, all is well!" You look at your phone. "Anyway, gonna run off to wean the mice before class." He nods, watching as you hurriedly drop your things off at your desk and scurry along without looking back.

—FLASHBACK

"So, did you hear about Professor Choi getting hella angry over some postdoc at the happy hour event? I guess he was getting handsy with Y/N and was being a total dick."

"Okay? So, he deserved it."

"Yeah, but people there said it was weird."

"How is sticking up for someone weird?"

"No like, guys. He was angry. Like the type to get angry over your girlfriend, angry."

"What are you insinuating?" Belle cocks a brow up.

"I'm so surprised you guys haven't heard about it. It's like the talk on campus right now. People think Professor Choi and Y/N are a thing. Professor Lee and Professor Jeong are also apparently fueling hella shit behind it."

"That's ridiculous, Y/N would never. That'd never happen." Belle tries to laugh it off until she sees Sunwoo sitting quietly in his chair. "Right?" Sunwoo looks at her and shrugs. "Sunwoo."

"Dude, I don't know. I've just seen Y/N go into his office a few times and I thought they were meeting about projects. But, now that I think about it.."

"Are you serious?" Belle furrows her brows. She's slightly annoyed that you'd actually take it this far, and she's not sure how she feels about it if it were true. "Is she trying to secure her spot in lab that bad? She wanted him to like her so bad she had to sleep with him?" Sunwoo knits his forehead at her.

"Yo, hold on. You don't even know if it's true. Even if it is, I'm sure there's a story behind it and not just that. Y/N wouldn't do that."

"We didn't expect her to be wrapped up in rumors like this, too." Belle scoffs. "Wow. If their so-called relationship ends up being true, bet it was because Y/N threw herself on him."

"That's fucked up. She's your friend, Belle."

"Not really, we just knew each other because of school and now we work together."

"Belle."

"What? You really can't tell me you don't think that? You're lying."

"No?! Belle, what?" Sunwoo's tone grows. "I'm saying they're two grown ass adults who are capable of making their own decisions. I'm not dismissing it or saying it's right, but I'm saying there could be more to it than that. Why are you assuming that so quickly?"

"Whatever, Sunwoo. It's gross, regardless. Especially for her as his rotation student." She rolls her eyes. "God, can't wait for it to be over so I don't have to deal with her." Sunwoo starts packing his things and shaking his head.

"That's crazy." Sunwoo chuckles a bit. "She was your friend before anything, bro. I'd expect you to at least have her back." He scoffs a bit. "I gotta go, I got shit to tend to with Y/N. Cause you know, I don't just switch up on people without having my facts straight." He almost mocks Belle's attitude as he throws the peace sign up to his other friend and starts walking off.

—END

After you tend to the mice, San gathers himself and heads out of the basement to head to the bathroom and freshen up before grabbing a quick snack on his way to Namjoon's office. On his way out, he didn't see anyone in the basement; Sunwoo must have gone to hide in one of the rooms to do some work. He's able to whisk himself away without any issues, prancing into Namjoon's office in a better mood.

Jongho definitely picks up on it, but doesn't comment on it. So doesn't Namjoon, but he needed to make use of his time wisely since he's got a busy ass schedule today.

They have a good conversation and are able to draft out some very good points about letting Jongho and San take some real estate in the new building. Namjoon is always good with words and although he's taking quick notes on his laptop, he's making a mental note on how they should present this to the dean. He has a good feeling about it, and he thinks it's perfect timing because the dean has been wondering about other ways to foster good collaboration between schools and departments and how to make their programs a little more unique and prestigious compared to others.

San is coming out of his day way better than yesterday, way better than he expected this morning.

Too bad it's all about to go out the window again.

When San heads back to his office, he powers through his check-in meetings with a select few postdocs and grad students— discussing different avenues they could take with their projects and what their goals should be by the end of the quarter. Afterwards, he finishes the remaining items on his to-do list before sending out his last emails of the day and packing up.

you: can i come over tonight?

san: course you can, baby. you don't have to ask. lol

you: yes, i do. lol. okay, see you later? i have office hours then i'll wrap it up for the day.

san: sounds good, beautiful. i'll have dinner ready for us, k? just come over as soon as you can.

you: ☺️

He smiles to himself as he slings the bag strap over his shoulder, excited to tell you about how the meeting went today and how optimistic he's feeling about everything despite the chaos that has ensued.

Maybe things will be okay after all.

Right?

"San. Can we talk?" Iseul catches him as he steps out onto the first floor of the Harvey Center from the elevator. He furrows his brows at her, unsure what in the hell she could possibly wanna talk to him about right now.

Well, scratch that— he knows, but he's also not sure why she's the one doing the talking on this. It's kinda ironic coming from her. But, San isn't gonna be rude nor is he gonna be a dick to her, especially on campus grounds. 

So, he lets out a sigh and shrugs.

"Sure." He plainly says, leading the way to one of the empty conference rooms down the hall. He sets his bag down on a chair before crossing his arms to his chest, distancing himself from Iseul on the other end of the room. "What's up?"

"You're seeing her, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Is all he can defend himself with because he's truly appalled she's doing the talking on this when it shouldn't be any of her business—

"That's crazy. All this time and effort to keep her around and you couldn't even do that for me." San's brows knit together so tightly— he's not sure what the fuck he's hearing right now.

"We're bringing this up because why exactly? Even if we hadn't worked out, you still found your way with Yunho." She rolls her eyes.

"You're being so stupid, San. How are you so comfortable dating your student? You could lose everything if anyone found out."

"I don't see why this is any of your business."

"Because if you aren't gonna get your shit together, I have no choice but to go to Namjoon—"

"You can't actually be serious—"

"Ask yourself that! You're so hung up over her that you're willing to give up everything for your little relationship." She pauses. "She's young, she's got the doe-eyed look going on. Seems sweet, but she probably doesn't even actually care about you. Get real, San. Wake the hell up!"

"Iseul, you're treading on very thin ice." He warns. "You still haven't told me what any of this has to do with you." He steps forward.

"It has nothing to do with me. It has to do with the fact that I'm trying to do the right thing. You know this is wrong." San scoffs and pathetically chuckles, hands dug deep into his pants.

"Does it make you happy, Iseul?" San almost corners her. "Does it make you that fucking happy to keep destroying everything for me?"

"No one destroyed anything for you, you continuously do that for yourself!"

"You're the only person who has ever painted me as a failure and disappointment. You don't get to do that now, you don't get to have a say in any of this!"

"She's a fucking student, San. What's wrong with—"

"And he was my bestfriend!" San finds himself seeing red as his tone grows. All of the happy, good luck shit he was feeling today went out the window in one swift motion. He should've known Iseul would've taken this road. He should've known she would've done this.

For some reason, Iseul continues to be the reason why he can't be happy.

"Hey." Yunho walks into the conference room. "You two are gonna need to keep it down." San can't help but roll his eyes because of course.

Of fucking course.

"Great to see you've been invited to this unnecessary discussion." San looks at the both of them.

"Unnecessary?!—" Iseul fires back.

"Iseul." Yunho calls for her sternly.

"Whatever, you know what? I tried. You do whatever you want, San. Risk all your shit for some student who won't give a damn once it's all been taken away. All she wants from you is your resources and to move up, but I guess that's what you wanted—"

"You know nothing about her!" San growls back. "You know absolutely nothing about her." He repeats.

"Iseul." Yunho calls for her again. This time, there's a lace of anger because this was not what he wanted out of this. He warned Iseul about getting into San's business and she wouldn't listen— now they were all here, arguing over shit when there's already so much bad blood and tension between the three of them. "Can you please just wait outside?" She huffs and clicks her teeth, grabbing her things before storming out.

"Yunho, honestly. Save it. We don't have to do this."

"San, she's right. You could get into a lot of trouble if people start putting the pieces of the puzzle together. People are already onto you after the happy hour event, and I can't exactly say you two have been the most discreet."

"What are you even talking about?" San asks, exasperated and completely over the conversation.

"You two by the basement doors?"

"Oh, so you guys are just spying on us?" San cocks a brow up. "Really makes it better."

"It could have been anyone."

"Could it have been? Exactly how long were you guys watching us?" Yunho sighs.

"I'm only looking out for you—"

"And what makes you think I want you looking out for me, Yunho?" San's tone grows. "Hm? Cause last time you ended up looking out for me, I found you tangled up with my wife." Yunho's jaw ticks, but he doesn't say anything else. Because what can he say?

"You know this will fuck up everything for you." Is all Yunho responds with. "Everything."

"So be it. Sorry, but I literally have no reason to listen to you. Or her." San pauses, his jaw clenching as he swallows thickly. Borderline aching from how hard he's been clenching. "I hope that one day the both of you will finally learn how to mind your own business. Stop coming into mine. We're not friends, we're not acquaintances, we're nothing. We haven't been anything for a very long time and I'd appreciate it if we kept it that way." San grabs his things and rushes out the door, the force almost causing the door to hit the wall on his way out.

"San?" Namjoon comes from around the corner as he watches San walk out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he tries to gather himself. To be honest, he had been standing there for a good minute trying to make sense of the arguing and loud talking going on within the conference room. It didn't take him long to realize who was inside and what exactly was being discussed— especially when Iseul storms out, mumbling a few cuss words and San slander to herself. Luckily, not too many people were around, and if they were, they didn't try to focus much of their attention on their whereabouts. Namjoon is lost because he doesn't have any actual concrete facts to have a say in this. Maybe the happy hour event. San’s little antics.

He does need to get to the bottom of it, though.

Before it all goes south and it comes raining down on San, on him.

"Not right now, Joon. I'm sorry. I gotta get home." Namjoon doesn't say anything else as he watches San hurry off, needing to take a break from this place and get some fresh air ASAP.

"The hell is going on?" Namjoon mumbles to himself before nodding to a few oncoming students when he slowly walks back to his office and pulls out his phone to send a few texts.

If not today, he sure as hell is getting to the bottom of all of this tomorrow.

San hasn't felt this angry in so, so long, and quite frankly, it scares him. He's afraid of reverting back to his old self, his old way of coping. He's afraid of taking the wrong step forward that'll undo all the progress and work he's done on himself.

But truthfully, he fucking hates this.

He fucking hates this because at this point, he feels like it'll only bring more anger. Sadness. Hurt,

He hates that Yunho and Iseul are getting under his skin this way, he hates the predicament you're both in, he hates that Namjoon was there. He hates that he knows this is wrong but he absolutely refuses to let you go—

Even though, he's starting to feel like he needs to rethink those choices.

Mainly because he doesn't want anything to happen to you, mainly because he wants you to succeed and be happy. Mainly because he wants to protect you and keep pushing you forward; even if that means he has to support from afar.

He fucking hates this.

San drives with one hand on the wheel, finger brushing against his bottom lip as all the thoughts run at a thousand miles per hour in his head. He knows it's wishful thinking to assume it'll all blow over and be yesterday's news that didn't really mean much. He feels like it's far from that, and he knows Namjoon is eventually going to talk to him about everything.

He wishes he can hold on for a little longer, push it out a bit more.

Despite his feelings and how shot his mood is, San still manages to stop by for some aburasoba— remembering how you've mentioned time and time again that you had been craving it. He makes a pitstop at a random flower shop nearby, grabbing a small bouquet of baby pink roses. He gives the florist a small smile when she asks him if it's for a special someone, his dimples poking out; heart fluttering, butterflies swarming his tummy when he thinks about you.

And only you.

He wishes he could give you the world without having to hide it. There are so, so many things he wishes he could do or say that don't involve him acting behind doors or away from people.

This shit truly is hard.

When he finally pulls into his garage and parks, he sits in the seat for a little and huffs out a heavy sigh. He grabs his things and sets the food and bouquet down on the island counter before heading upstairs to shower. He gets comfortable in sweats and a matching crewneck, heading back down to the kitchen to get everything set up and ready for your arrival. You let him know you'll be over in the next few minutes, so he lights up a candle and gets the TV going— leaving it on the home page so that you can freely choose what you're in the mood for.

"Hi!" You greet in a sing-song tone as you let yourself in and walk into the kitchen. San is washing some dishes, which gives you the opportunity to hug him from behind and place a chaste kiss to the back of his neck. He chuckles, sinking into your hold before you pull away. "Aburasoba?" You gasp. "And pink roses?" You turn again just as he wipes his hands down and faces you. "Thank you, Sannie." Your bottom lip pokes out in a small pout.

"Of course, baby." He playfully runs a finger down your bottom lip and smiles. "How was the rest of your day? Sounded like you ran into Sunwoo after you left?" 

"Oh my god, yeah. But, I don't think he really caught onto anything. I just told him we met real quick then left, and he didn't question it." You sigh. "But otherwise, the rest of the day was good. Exhausting. I had tons of students coming into office hours so I ended up being done a little later than expected."

"Planning their proposals for finals?" You nod.

"Yup!"

"I know the feeling." You laugh, helping him grab the bowls and taking it over to the living room. You plop next to him on the couch, already flipping through options for tonight. You settle for rewatching The Walking Dead, San chuckling at your pick to sit through while eating dinner. You manage to yap away in between bites of your aburasoba, San only humming or giving you short answers in response.

At first, you don't think much about it. You assume he's exhausted and he's trying his best to keep you company like the good man he is. But then, you turn and he's not really watching. He's kinda scrolling through his phone, setting it aside then blankly looking at the TV. It's obvious San isn't entirely present. It's obvious he's got things in his mind, and you're not sure if you did anything wrong or if something happened in between the time you two were apart—

But, he seems unhappy and you wish you could fix whatever it is.

"Babe." 

"Hm?" He hums.

"What's wrong?" You turn over to look at him, cupping his cheek while you crawl onto his lap.

"Nothing." He chuckles and rubs your back, eyes looking deep into yours. All he sees is a personification of love, comfort. And nothing is harder than fighting the 'what if's' in his head when you look at him the way you do, when you touch him the way you do. "Nothing baby, sorry. I'm just really exhausted." He doesn't like to lie, but he sees the soft smile that grows on your face when you receive his reassurance and he can't help but brush it under the rug.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He nods. "Yeah, baby." Though, he isn't. 

"Okay." You kiss him on the lips and caress his cheek, smiling at him. His heart aches because he thinks about all the moments you've had to share secretly or behind doors, not being able to put your relationship out there like you both wish to. He finally lets the 'what if's' free, thinking about how this could affect your future, you;

He can't help but feel like, maybe, you deserved better than this.

—read 11.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[jollyhunter]

THE BROKEN CIRCLE

Beau!Dean x hunter!reader

Characters: (mostly) Beau Arlen / (flashbacks) Dean Winchester x hunter!reader, also Denise and Cassie AU: "Supernatural" x "Big Sky" crossover, set after S15 of SPN

One Shot (???) UPDATE: A SEQUEL IS PLANNED. THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK!! 🧡🧡🧡

Warnings: - Major MC death mentioned (end of SPN spoiler), implied panic attack, angst and just buckets of tears (I'm coping with a certain someone's death here) - No use of Y/N - English is not my native language

Words: ~4,050

Setup: "Winchester" - That's the name you applied with at the police department, when you started a new life in Big Sky, Montana, 4 years ago. It's your deceased husband's name. Or rather, meant-to-be husband, since Dean died 2 weeks before he got to propose to you. Today you return from your one month time-out. But a lot has changed since you went to visit Sam; You've got a new sheriff.

And he's the same man you thought you'd never see again.

The Broken Circle

Cold.

In one word, that's your last memory of when you gingerly cupped Dean’s face. How your tender fingers caressed his bruised cheeks and wiped away the dirt from his battered skin. Shakily combed out the rubble from his damp brown hair and scrubbed the dry blood off his fingers.

The last time you squeezed Dean's lifeless hand before it slipped from your trembling fingers. Cold and busted lips scraped against yours when you gently kissed him goodbye for the last time in this life.

...Or so you hoped. Who knew what heaven had in stock for you two.

You just wished you could have been there, in that damn barn. Been with him in his last minutes. Could have held his hand next to Sam. Could have told him how much you loved him. Reassure him that you'd give up the hunting life like you both had planned. That you'd try and live a good life for him... and that you were sure you'd see each other again.

But instead you had to take leave of Dean's lifeless body. Hollow. Drained of everything that made him the man you loved and had planned to spend the rest of your life with.

Dean gave his life for so many innocent people – hell, for the entire world. But he never got to have his own life. Never got to live it the way he wished to.

It just seemed so damn unfair. You had so much planned for your future. Have yourself some rug rats, a dog maybe, a house, a garden with those ridiculous white picket fences. You’d live a cherry pie life once you’d leave the hunting life behind you.

Or so you liked to picture it in your heads. On those rare, peaceful nights where you'd rest in each others arms like an old couple. His fingers combing your hair while your thumb carefully stroked his battered knuckles. Whispers of daring dreams filling the silence.

But reality was cold. Bloody. Like an animal put down. With a last effort, put to rest on his bed in the bunker by Sam and you.

This image will haunt you for the rest of your life, you know it. It already did for the past 5 years. If only you could have —

"Winchester?"

You blink rapidly, your mind thrown off for a moment when you snap out of your spiraling thoughts.

Denise waves with a paper in front of you to get your attention back. "She was mutilated. And it wasn't a bear. Her heart had been cut out."

"Jesus," Cassie breathes with a look of shock and disgust, shifting uncomfortably next to you.

"Yeah," Denise's face grimaces into a painful one. Her eyes are darting from Cassie, down to the report and back up to your still slightly absent gaze. "What do you make of it, Winchester?"

"Sounds like a werewolf." Damn it. The words slipped your lips before you could fully snap out of your memories. “I mean, sounds like a bit far-fetched but I’ll let Sheriff Tubbs know.” You force a wry smile when you grab the piece of paper from Denise’s hands, ready to head out of this messed up conversation.

“Sheriff Arlen,” Cassie calls after you and you stop in your tracks to look back at them with arched eyebrows.

“Sheriff who?” You inquire with a puzzled look. How the hell could you have missed this much in just one month off duty?

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” Cassie repeats and Denise quickly adds with a teasing hum, “And his ass is just- mmmh-” she makes a chef’s kiss hand gesture while Cassie rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle.

You let out a huff in mock-annoyance but can’t help the faint grin on your face. Maybe, one day you’d dare to befriend them. Maybe, whenever you’d feel ready for letting people into your life again. But not today.

Ready to pick up your work at the police department, your eyes immediately land on the new name on what used to be Sheriff Tubbs office. ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen’ is written in an arched, golden text across the door’s glass.

You raise a sceptical eyebrow at the name. “Beau” you spit out the name under your breath, already feeling a distaste for this new sheriff.

In your defence, it wasn’t personal. It is just in your nature to feel sceptical towards anything new, especially people. Perhaps you gave up your hunting life. But any hunter will tell you between a swig of whiskey and a loaded shotgun that you’ll never lose your hunter instincts, no matter how hard you try. That’s not how it works. You don’t end this business by walking out the door.

It ends you.

In some way you were like trained bloodhounds. Always one chase away of your next kill. Unable to ignore the smell of blood. You were painfully aware of that fact. You could never live a fully normal life without the occasional hunch or a nervous look over your shoulder.

But you’d learned to accept it and make the best of it.

Here you can still help people. Save people. And once in a while nudge the sheriff into the right direction when you suspected something more than a suicide. Or you’d discreetly plant anti-possession charms on people when you had a hunch that demons were involved in a case.

Yet Sam believes you had retired fully from hunting like he did. And you liked to belief so, too. But on some days you weren’t so sure whether you even wanted to.

In some twisted way, hunting will always connect you with Dean. And at the same time it pains you, like a slow poison. Because you know it’s what he hated and never wanted for you.

And what took him from you.

It is a walk on a tight rope, really.

With a little huff of defiance you push the door to the sheriff’s office open. Your eyes dart around the empty room as you lean slightly forward, “Sheriff Arlen?”

Nothing. Oh well. With a quick glance over your shoulder you decide to take the chance and just drop off the report. You step inside, your fingers tracing the edge of the paper as your mind is instinctively drawn back to the case. I’ll have to look into this… bloody werewolf —

“Ah, Deputy Winchester, ain’t it?”

You freeze in mid motion.

And so does time. The paper slowly slides from between your trembling fingers and flutters to the floor. The unmistakable voice jolting through your mind and body like a lightning bolt. Your breath is caught in your throat, your mind and body paralysed.

The world holds its breath.

This is impossible.

“...Winchester, innit?” he repeats as he steps into the office and casually walks up to you, a wide smile spread across his face.

It can’t – NO.

You don’t dare to turn around.

Not that your body would be capable of any movement anyway. Every muscle is tense, your spine’s gone completely rigid. And your heart’s hammering against your ribs like it’ll crack your chest open from the inside.

You stand there like a deer caught in headlights. Headlights of a ‘67 Chevy Impala called Baby.

It has to be my imagination.

“Ya got somethin’ for me there? Oh-” You feel his elbow briefly brush your side as he bends down to pick up the paper next to your foot.

You don’t move an inch and stare ahead.

He straightens up again and steps around you to place it down on his desk. When he finally moves into your view and turns around to face you with his warm smile – your heart stops.

Emerald green eyes look back at you. Deep and sparkling green oceans. Alive.

Your brain freezes. Your mind scrambling for an explanation but failing to come up with anything.

This can’t be.

After a moment of tense silence, the tremors of your bottom lip make way for what your mind refuses to believe in.

“Dean?”

His name slips you in a mere breathless murmur. Afraid that whatever this is, will shatter the moment you dare to breath again.

Beau raises a brow. “Dean?”

He repeats the name with such nonchalance, such valuelessness, like it’s just some random clerk who he’s got no business with. As if that name didn’t mean the world to you once. Still would. Still does.

But the way his name dropped from his lips…

It clogs your airways. And the question mark at the end was him ramming a dagger into your heart and twisting it, without him even realising.

“Uh, no ain’t that.” He gently shakes his head and his lips melt into a cheeky smile as if that would make his next words any less painful.

“I’m Beau.”

Silence. Once again you feel like the air’s sucked out of your lungs. Like someone had pushed you off a cliff.

Someone who is an imposter of your deceased husband.

Beau. Your jaw clenches. And the name bounces off your mind. Your initial reaction being immediate rejection. No, you’re not... Beau.

Your eyes flicker across the man in front of you.

He might look quite… changed. He’s got a beard, neatly trimmed even. His hair is longer and… soft. Gone was the rugged and calloused man you loved. But it is still him. His eyes with their hidden secrets lingering behind those intense glinting, emerald green pools. His bow legs you’d recognize out of a hundred. His voice, his features, his – everything. Everything on him seems much softer but still… in your eyes, it’s Dean. No doubt.

“Why are ya lookin’ like you saw a ghost?” Beau questions with a tilt of his head, leaning back against the edge of his desk.

His voice snaps you out of your intense gaze. Your mouth opens, but no words make it past your quivering lips. All words drowned out in a flood of a million questions. Your focus drifts off, your eyes darting around the office like you’re expecting Gabriel to pop up any second and laugh at you.

But the room stays reduced to the two of you.

You feel like you’re on a tipping point.

Hands clenched, one subtly moves back to your hidden silver dagger – you do what you were trained to do in situations like these; Your mind grips for the lifeline and kicks into hunter mode. You rattle off the list of possible monsters; Shapeshifter? Ghoul? Am I dreaming? Is it some sick game of a trickster God? —

“Darlin’? You alright?” he asks, his voice now more concerned. You look terrified. As pale as a sheet, the blood drained from your face. Close to a panic attack, he guesses by your rapid breaths. Beau reaches out with his hand, gently patting your arm to get your attention. “Hey… Easy, just breathe.”

At his touch you jolt and finally snap out of your state of shock. The hand hovering over the concealed weapon falters. His worried eyes lock with yours.

The life-line snaps. Your mind tips over. Enough to make your stomach twist and turn, about to throw up. With only one shared look, everything’s back; The pain, the poignant grief, the cold skin under your fingertips, Dean’s lifeless expression, emerald eyes gone dull, the stench of decay, of old blood and dirt and his burning flesh and-- it all crashes down on you. All the emotions and memories you had buried in the depths of your mind, now laid open.

Fresh and hungry. Slowly swallowing you whole. Again.

“I- I don’t feel so… good – sorry,” you sputter, your hand clutching your chest in an effort to keep it together. The same second you spin around on your heels and storm out of the office without looking back once.

Beau. His mere presence was suffocating.

You remember the moment you and Sam cleaned up Dean’s lifeless body. How your fingers brushed against a folded paper, carefully tucked away in his jacket’s inside pocket.

Sam’s face had contorted the moment you pulled it out. Clearly, he had known what secret the paper held and before you got to question his knowing look, he suddenly got up. While walking out, he said he’d give you some time alone with his brother.

Once you unfolded the notepaper halfway, your breath stopped. Your eyes slowly shifted from one scribbled word to the next, each of them hitting harder than the next, each of them taking more of your breath. You swallowed past the lump in your throat when the realization of what you’d been holding in your hand slowly set in.

They were notes of Dean. Notes for your upcoming anniversary in two weeks.

You unfolded the rest of it and your eyes widened. The paper began to crumple in your shaking hands while wet stains swallowed some of his jotted down keywords. When your burning eyes reached the last four words, it had felt like whatever was left of your broken heart had just been ripped out entirely.

The raw emotions rolled down your cheeks, your tears mixing with his last unspoken words…

“Will you marry me?”

Beau was left back staring at the slammed door in bewilderment and a little stunned. After a moment, he sighs and pushes off the desk to follow after you.

“Winchester!” He calls down the corridor, watching you stumble out the front door into the outside. He jogs after you, slightly panting, while his eyes dart around the parking lot in search for you.

The rain crashes down on him the moment he steps outside. His head briefly tilts up to face the grey sky with an annoyed groan. The raindrops are pattering against his creased forehead, running down his cheeks to pool at the tip of his beard.

But then he hears a muffled sniffle next to him. Strands of his soaked hair fall into his face when he whirls his head around, spotting you leaned against the wall.

“No- no – it can’t be you – Damn it – it can’t…” you mutter under your rapid breaths, somehow trying to fight your scrunched up, stinging eyes with words of common sense. Your chest feels constricted. Your heart’s hammering in your ears and your breath’s clipped, feeling like you might faint any moment of lack of oxygen.

Leaning back against the wet wall for some support, your mind’s on the brink of a breakdown. There’s no explanation for this. This can’t be happening.

Beau suddenly appears in front of you and before you get to react, he places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch but don’t pull away. His hand feels heavy against your soaked jacket, grounding, gentle – but casual, like you would with a stranger. You are strangers.

“Hey, hey take it easy. You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack. You’ll be okay.” He says as he crouches down to your level. He glances over your trembling body and how your eyes try to avoid his, your expression like you’d just witnessed a murder in slow-motion.

“Look at me, deep breaths.” Beau speaks in a firmer, yet gentle tone, trying to break through your panicked state.

When you refuse to look up, he tilts his head down to meet your eyes behind some soaked stray hair that sticks to your skin. He pushes them out of your face, his intense gaze searching your contorted face for some form of hint for what’s got you so spooked.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. While his soothing words just keep coming, his voice now a lower whisper as he’s desperately trying to understand what is going on in that head of yours, “Hey, c’mon… talk to me, Winchester…”

Your eyes are burning from the tears that have been building up until now. Eyelashes heavy and clumped together by the droplets of the rain. And his intense eyes staring into yours, the very same eyes you fell in love with over 10 years ago, do nothing to ease your pain.

You try to tear your gaze away from his, but find yourself caught in them. It’s like you’re staring into a beautiful forest after years of living in a desert. They pull you in, and you feel like you are right back where you’d always longed to be. Home.

But a home that isn’t yours any more. The soul behind those eyes looks familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. You thought you’d never see those eyes again – but those very same eyes hold no memory of you.

The same question keeps repeating in your head, ripping at your heart and soul like a Hellhound.

Dean… is this you?

His voice cuts through your thoughts like a soft knife. “Take deep breaths darlin’, it’s oka-”

“Please- just-” you cut him short, a painful, shaky breath rippling through your voice, “Just stop talking.” Beau’s voice is like a dagger to your heart, twisting it whenever he speaks up. Mocking your memories with that uncanny tone of his.

I’m just tired. You hear Dean’s voice in your head and just like him, you wished you didn’t feel a damn thing.

Beau raises a brow and tilts his head forward, studying your face. For a moment he opens his mouth about to speak again, but when he sees you flinch, he forces himself to shut it closed.

His jaw’s clenched from fighting the urge to talk and feeling a bit overwhelmed with the entire situation. Not knowing where to go with himself or what to do without making things worse. He isn’t sure what it is, but something about you tugs at his heart in a way he can’t quite understand. But he quickly dismisses it, for now.

His eyes snap up to the sky when the rain starts to increase. Heavy drops splatter off the both of you, coaxing a single tear to let go of the corner of your eye. It was like the sky cried for you. Eyes that parched exactly 5 years ago.

Without a word he moves closer, gently wrapping his free arm around your waist. But you stop him before his palm touches your side. Your hand's shaking as it clings to his wrist like a lifeline.

Beau’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t comment on it. His expression grows pensive and his eyebrows slightly furrow, watching your trembling form. Your chest's heaving heavily, like you’re struggling for air. And your eyes are out of focus, like they're reliving some nightmare.

He suddenly feels a strong protectiveness - decides to hold himself back, though, afraid he might make things worse. But it pains him terribly to see you this way, even if he might not know you, yet.

You don’t say anything. Unable to form the right words as nothing could express the storm of contradicting emotions you are trapped in. The wavering grip on his arm is clenching and unclenching subtly as if unsure whether you want to push him away or pull him in.

“Sorry,” you finally croak between shuddering breaths, unsure what you were even apologizing for, “I’m sorry…”

Why were you apologizing? A strange feeling settles in his guts, one of this being a lot bigger than he could comprehend.

Next moment you know, you’re pulled into a tight hug. Both his arms wrapping around you to pull you close and hold you together.

At first you stiffen. Standing there like a fragile, shaking tree. Your arms pressed against your sides, unable to comprehend any more what is happening.

But he keeps you in his embrace, murmuring soothing words, muffled by your hair and the heavy rain. You lift your head slightly, just enough for your wavering eyes to meet his again.

That’s when the realization hits you. He looks so whole. So unbroken. His skin and his hair was smooth and tender beneath that thin layer of rain. He lacks any form of scar, any edges or any memory of the horrors you and he had faced and committed. Your heart twists; This isn’t what a scarred hunter looks like. And at the same time you feel your heart sink at the next conclusion… Beau would have been Dean’s idea of a perfect life, without ever having been born into the hunting business.

And it makes you wonder whether he was granted that alternate life.

Beau feels your trembling body against him and how your gaze is searching his face for something he doesn't know. Why are you looking at him like that? A lump forms in his throat. His hand gently caresses your back in a circle motion, while his other keeps stroking your hair.

“It’s alright, s’okay. You’re okay.” Beau says in a soothing, comforting tone and he tugs you a little closer, allowing you to rest against him.

Your wet hair falls into your face once more when your head drops to his chest. You both stay still, the only sound being the pitter-patter from the raindrops against the hood of his truck and the puddles around you. Your ragged breath’s nearly drowned out by the rain. The world seems to have shrunk to the beat of his heart softly thudding against your ear.

And that breaks the dam. Tears it down as the floods of emotions search their way out. Your shoulders rise and buckle against his chest. The tears finally break free, streaming down your face, mixing with the rain soaking your clothings. Your body wracked with sobs – raw, desperate, painful. Liberating.

You begin to shake uncontrollably, the sobs growing more and more powerful. They start to rack through every fibre of your body. Your legs grow unsteady beneath you, daring to crumble from the weight of every emotion you had buried in the past 5 years released and unloading all at once.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll stay right here as long as ya need me to. C’mere…” He reassures you, and pulls you even closer. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, his facial hair brushing against your scalp and his warm breath wafting down at you. “Just let it out… you’re gonna be okay… you’re not alone, ‘kay?”

You clutch at his jacket tightly, holding onto him like you’re drowning. Like you’re afraid he might be a dream after all. Might disappear from your grasp at any moment. Everything spills out of you, incoherent words bubbling from your wet lips. “Y-y-you’re alive- you’re alive- a-alive- I missed you so much, Dean- so so much-”

Beau can’t exactly make out the words that are tumbling from your mouth, but he can feel you shaking against him terribly. He quickly takes his big jacket off to drape it over you, to try and keep the rain and cold off you.

His heart tightens at the sight of your curled-up body, clinging to him while shivering badly and breaking apart in his arms. He slowly begins to speak again, a hint of an encouraging smile on his face, “Hey, ‘m gonna pick ya up. Ya ain’t gonna stand that cold and rain. Ya’ll get sick.” He then places his arms on your back and under your thighs, before lifting you up off the ground in one smooth motion.

He holds you close against his chest, wrapping his jacket over you for extra warmth. The rain patters against the concrete floor while his boots splash through the puddles, carrying you over to his truck.

You don’t protest as your body was giving in at this point. Like a run down shed in a storm.

Your fingers slowly going numb from the death grip, the wet and cold. You choke on your sobs while the tears keep rolling down your reddened cheeks.

But from joy.

You don’t know whether he is Dean or not. Whether this is real or you finally lost it.

But in this very moment you didn’t care.

You let yourself drift back to the happiest place in your mind. One you hadn’t dared to visit for many years. Locked up and keys buried along your husband. Deep down in your broken heart.

When you close your eyes and press the side of your face against his chest, you can hear his heart pounding. When he speaks, you hear Dean’s voice above you, soft and peaceful.

And you feel his body through the drenched pieces of clothings between you.

He feels warm. Warm.

A/N: it was meant to be a drabble IT WAS MEANT TO BE A DRABBLE

I'M NOT CRYIN'- OKAY FINE I'm still coping with his death - I haven't even watched it since I'm still catching up with the seasons. GAWD I HTE THIS - I JUST NEEDED CLOSURE DAMN IT

Anyway, I just had to get this story off my chest before next year. I don’t know yet whether it deserves more parts but do let me know if you think so!

Tags:

@aylacavebear ❀ꗥ Want to join my TAG LIST? Fill out this form!

[ficnation]

Dead Girl Walkin'#1

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader

Warnings: sickness, usual the walking dead themes

Word count: 500+

A/n: So I had this little idea for a one-shot for a while now, it was supposed to be just something really really short but it kinda turned out to be more than that, so it'll be a smoll shortie series of flashbacks and late night conversations between Daryl and Rick, maybe someone else too??? We shall see. Hope you enjoy it!

I'll add the taglist in the comments later on, probably

Main Masterlist || Daryl Dixon Masterlist

NEXT CHAPTER

The fire crackles between them, casting long shadows on the ground. The night is quiet—too quiet—but neither of them seems to mind.

“I had someone… 'fore it all began,” Daryl mutters, breaking the silence.

Rick glances at him, just for a second, before casting his gaze back to the fire. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask. If Daryl wants to talk, he’ll let him.

Daryl exhales, shaking his head. “Real dead girl walkin’.” A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Would’ve fit right in.”

Rick frowns, waiting.

“She’d have liked me callin’ her that, too,” Daryl continues, voice quieter now. “Had a sick sense of humor. Always laughin’ at shit she shouldn’t. Couldn’t ever tell if she was tough as hell or just didn’t give a damn.” He huffs. “Got along with Merle, though. Ain’t many could say that.”

Rick tilts his head. “That so?”

“Yeah. Thought he was funny. Thought I was funny, too.” Daryl lets out a breath, almost a laugh. “Never did get why.”

A beat of silence stretches between them before Rick asks, “What happened to her?”

Daryl’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t look up. “Hell if I know,” he mutters. “She was barely survivin’ before the end of the fuckin’ world. Always sick, never gettin’ out much. Was born like that.”

Rick watches him carefully, but Daryl just stares into the fire, lost in his own head.

It was a shitty day, too damn hot, and Daryl was already in a bad mood when he stomped up the rusted steps of the trailer.

Merle had dragged him out here to some backwoods lot, said they were meetin’ up with an old buddy for some “business.” Daryl didn’t ask too many questions.

But when the trailer door swung open, the last thing he expected to see was a girl—no older than him—leaning in the doorway with a cigarette between her lips and an amused look in her eyes.

“Merle Dixon,” you drawled, exhaling smoke. “Figured that was your ugly mug pullin’ up.”

Daryl blinked. You were pale—like real pale, the kind that don’t see much sun. Dark circles under your eyes, too, like you never slept. But there was somethin’ about you, the way you looked at him like you already knew him.

“And you,” you said, flicking your cigarette. “You must be Baby Dixon.”

Daryl scowled. “The hell’d you just call me?”

You grinned, tapping your temple. “Good guess. You just got that look, y’know? Like a kicked dog with a temper.”

Merle barked out a laugh, slapping Daryl on the back. “Shit, girl, you nailed ‘im.”

Daryl huffed, crossing his arms. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

You leaned against the doorframe, smirking. You introduced yourself like you were proud of your name. “Ain’t got no fancy title like ‘Baby Dixon,’ though. Guess you’ll just have to come up with somethin’ for me.”

Daryl scoffed. “How ‘bout ‘pain in my ass’?”

Your laugh was loud and real, shaking your head. “I like you, Dixon.”

He rolled his eyes, but damn it if he didn’t kinda like you, too.

Daryl swallows hard, the memory fading. He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face.

“She’d have made it fun,” he says, voice rough. “This whole end-of-the-world shit.”

Rick doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, finally—

“What’d you call her?”

Daryl huffs a quiet laugh. “Dead Girl.” His throat tightens. “She thought it was funny.”

Rick nods, watching as Daryl pokes at the fire with a stick, lost in thoughts of a girl long gone.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Cardigan

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader (BAU Agent) -> A case, a cardigan and a life time of memories help both you and Spencer realise something about yourselves.

Disclaimer: Not proof read. Mentions of Criminal Minds level violence. 16+. Fluff, pining. Descriptions of being attacked and falling into a river (but ends safely). Garcia sorting out two blind oblivious idiots. Happy Ending.

23:49

Usually, people were asleep close to midnight. Usually, people were dreaming of their favourite TV show and character, imagining a world where they worked alongside them or danced the night away with them in a ballroom that could make a Disney Live-Action movie jealous. 

However, that was not what you were doing. 

Instead, you were opening up your bathroom door and walking back inside your hotel room. The carpet a little rough beneath your feet, you unravelled your hair from the towel and began ringing out what was left of the water from your shower. 

Moving over to your closet, you pulled open the door and found what you were looking for. 

A cardigan. 

The Cardigan. 

The one you wore whenever you were in need of a little comfort because, despite owning it and washing it multiple times over the years, it was still him. 

One touch of the fabric and it was like being transported back to the day he gave it to you. Or, at least, let you borrow it then proceed to keep it. 

The case had been in Colorado. 

Four female students had gone missing in the space of two months. And, as much as it could be considered a coincidence, they all matched the same description and had last been seen at a convenience store, with fresh spray paint of their single initial. 

And, on the fourth night of the case, you were at such a place. 

All it had been for was a snack run for yourself, JJ and Morgan. However, as you began walking back down the street, you heard the shake of a spray-paint can and, the minute the stranger found your eyes, they set off running. 

And so did you. 

Making a call on your way, you shared your location with Garcia who patched in Morgan and Reid from the precinct. 

“Hey, wait! Stop!”

Round a back alley corner, you lost them. You walked further up to see if you could find a trail, however, all you found was a small bridge and a river. 

And as you looked around, from behind you, you felt someone try and run you down and it became a struggle. 

Fighting back and forth until he took hold of your jacket and pulled you over the edge with him. 

Disorientated from the fall, you struggled to find your way back up to the surface and when you did, you were only dragged back down. 

However, in all the commotion, a light came from the bridge and your attacker suddenly let go and, from the waves of the water, began swimming away as fast as he could. 

Coughing up the last of the water, you pulled yourself up the edge of the riverbank, laying on your back until your heart rate slowed down enough for you to catch a decent breath. 

“Hey, hey! Y/n! Look at me.”

Turning on your side, you tiredly pushed Morgan’s hand down from your face. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Do you think you can stand it?”

You nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

“What the hell happened?”

“You mean other than me being dragged into a river giving me flashbacks of college?”

“Y/n!? Y/n?! Are you okay?”

“She’s fine, pretty boy.” Morgan called back up the riverbank as Reid made his way down. 

“Are you sure?!”

“I’m fine, Spencer. I swear.”

Having made his way to your side, he kneeled down a little, checking you over. Only when he touched your skin did you realise you must have hit your head under the water on something because it was stinging from an open cut. 

“Sorry,” Spencer said as you hissed. 

“It’s okay, Just…help me up.”

Spencer did as he was told and Morgan led the way back up the bank. 

By the time you made it back to the precinct, considering it was closer than the hospital and they already had a paramedic waiting, JJ and some other officers had found the Spray Paint runner, and had pictures taken of the job he had done outside of the store. 

Having taken a shower in the locker room, Emily passed you through some of your spare clothes which consisted of a black t-shirt and some grey joggers. You were sitting in the hallway, your hair was damp and still dripping a little around your shoulders. Meanwhile, in your hands lay one of the pictures the CSI had taken. 

It could have been a coincidence, but more than likely it wasn’t. 

It was your initial. 

A shiver had taken hold of your body, whether from the truth or the cold you didn’t know. 

“Hey, here.”

From down the hall, Spencer approached you and removed his cardigan. “You’re cold.”

“I’m fine, Spence.”

“You fell in a river and now have washed, wet hair in a building filled with AC. You’re cold. Here.”

With a slight smile, you took the cardigan from him and in almost an instant, it warmed you. It had been warmed by him and now it was warming you. 

“Thank you.”

Spencer smiled, looking around before picking up the towel that was laid over the back of your chair. 

“Here.”

Slowly pulling your hair around to one side, Spencer rang out the last of the water with the towel. 

“Did they get him?”

Your voice was quieter than usual. 

“The spray painter? Yes. Hotch has him in interrogation right now. Morgan and Emily are out looking for the guy who attacked you.”

You just nodded, part of your brain reliving the attack. 

From the back of your neck, Spencer could see a large bruise. It wasn’t too bad, but he knew it still hurt you considering whenever you moved in your seat, it seemed a struggle. 

“But I don’t match the MO.” 

This was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. You were out of college age range. The girls kidnapped didn’t have the same features. Similar, perhaps. But not the same. You hadn’t been in any similar places, other than the convenience store. 

“We’re thinking that perhaps he revisited some of the old sites.”

“And I’m the one that is closest to his victims…”

Spencer nodded and you took a deep breath, handing him the picture. “I can’t keep looking at that.”

You both sat in silence for a few minutes until Spencer finished and placed the towel down on the back of the chair again. 

“I was thinking about picking up some food, how about you come with me?”

Taking in a breath, you collapsed your hands between your knees and stood. “Yeah. Let me just use the bathroom.”

Spencer nodded, watching you push the door to the ladies room open, before Hotch walked over. 

“You’re taking her out?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be best.”

Hotch nodded. “Maybe try and get her to talk about it. See what she remembers. Anything that can help us track down the attacker.”

“Ready to go?” Spencer said, watching as you came out of the bathroom door. 

“Yeah.”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Spencer drove through the small town, and a little down the highway towards the only decent diner close to the town. 

In the passenger seat, you kept your eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window whilst the scent from Spencer’s cardigan blocked out the scent from the cheap shampoo one of the officers had found in a locker. 

Every now and again Spencer would glance over at you, that swirling feeling in his stomach getting stronger and stronger. When Garcia had patched the call through, he had heard your voice and something dropped in his stomach. He tried his best to remain calm, asking where you were and what you saw but when you went quiet, just before he heard a grunt in pain, his heart dropped. 

Spencer had met you in the Academy. 

Like himself, you too had been a child prodigy of sorts so you were around his age, too. Often, you found yourself in the same circles, however a small part of each of you seemed to compete against one another. 

An exam, a race, a training course. 

However, neither of you were too focused on your small rivalry to not help when the other needed it. 

After all, after Hotch, you were the one to help Spencer continue to hold his gun licence. 

And he was the one to help you finish up paperwork on those late nights. 

And when he saw your body unmoving on the side of the riverbank, it felt like his heart was shattering. 

It felt like you had been there for most of his life and you had, at least, for his adult life. And the thought that you wouldn’t be there for the rest of it brought such pain to him…he didn’t know what to do other than try his best to remember your voice and the way your hand fit into his as he helped you up from the grass and how you felt, leaning against him on the drive back. 

He didn’t want to let you go, so when Hotch said someone should watch you, he was the first to say yes. 

He’d known you the longest and, for what it was worth, he knew you trusted him enough that if you wanted to open up, it, in one way or another, would have been to him. 

And he was right, by the time he pulled up outside of the diner, you explained all that you could remember to him. From the turnings you took, to the feeling of being under the water and having a split second of thinking you wouldn’t make it back to the surface. 

And when you cried, wiping away the tears on your cheeks with the sleeve of his cardigan, Spencer unbuckled his belt and reached over, hugging you so tight it was like if he ever let go, he would stop breathing. 

You thought back to that night as you slipped your arms through the sleeves. 

There had been a couple of different nights after that, that you thought of when you took in the feel and smell of The Cardigan. 

One such night had been when Spencer and JJ had been out in the field. You had stayed back with Garcia, however that same feeling of having someone pull your heart so far back in your chest it began to hurt your spine, washed over you again. 

The only thing that helped settle it was wearing his cardigan. 

It was rare you did wear it, however when you did it was often for comfort and to settle your nerves from whatever was happening. 

Garcia didn’t say anything, but she smiled. 

She’d seen you wear The Cardigan when you came back from the Colorado case, and when you were stuck in the office late at night a few months later, and whenever she called someone on the jet when you fell asleep on Spencer’s shoulder, his head resting on yours. 

But this was the confirmation she needed. 

Both against you, and Spencer. 

So, when nightfall came and you had decided to wait for the rest of the team to get back, she finally said something. 

You had been sitting at your desk, leaning back in your chair, a pencil poked through your hair whilst a pen twirled in your hand. 

“You should talk to him.”

“What?”

Garcia smiled. “Reid. You should talk to him.”

“Why?” your stomach dropped. “Is everything okay? He’s not-”

Garcia shook her head. “He’s okay. But, you should talk to him.”

“Why?”

Penelope placed a hand on your shoulder, the soft wool of the cardigan under her palm. 

“This is his.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. 

“If you're worried he doesn’t feel the same?” Garcia pinched the fabric and shook it a little. “This is proof he does.”

“What are you-”

“For being a top profiler, you guys sure don’t know how to read a love story when it’s right in front of you.”

“Pen-”

Garcia just smiled again. “Talk to him. You’ll be surprised.”

She took her leave from there, calling out her goodbyes from the entrance door. Not too long after that, the rest of the team walked back through the door to collect the rest of their things, and if you weren’t mistaken, they all seemed to have a quiet smile on their face when they spotted what you were wearing. 

However, in the end, it was just you and Spencer. And Garcia’s words kept circling around in your head. 

“Hey, Spence?”

He turned around. 

And you chickened out. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I- it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, okay. Well…goodnight.”

“Night.”

What you didn’t notice as Spencer left was when he took another look. You had your back to him, so he could take a slightly longer look. The feeling in his heart grew a little more as he took in the memory of you in his cardigan. 

You had tried to give it back, sneakily. However, he thinked you looked better in it. And, due to the feeling in his heart, it would forever be yours. So, he made sure to be out of the office before you one night so, when you found it looped through your bag, you had no other option but to keep it. 

And now, with it holding your body. Holding your soul. You took in its scent. 

You had been in love with Spencer since shortly after you had both joined the BAU. He was the first familiar face you saw when you landed in the office. He’d already been there at least five years, maybe bordering on six when you joined. And all it had taken was a simple coffee order. 

You had changed your coffee order since you’d both been graduates since the Academy, however, despite the change…Spencer didn’t have to ask. 

He turned up at the door of your apartment, holding out the cup for you when you opened the door to let him inside. 

All he did was stand in your apartment and look around, whilst you drank him in. You’d both changed over the years and of course you had liked him, ever since you first met him. Anyone that took the time to know him, liked him, too. 

But there was something. 

Maybe it was his confidence. 

Maybe it was the fact he knew your favourite coffee order after six years of not seeing one another. 

But either way, you knew. 

You knew you loved him. 

A familiar knock came to the door of your hotel room, knocking you out of your memories and back into reality. 

An hour later, you were sitting downstairs with the others, examining all the old case files, begging for something to jump out. 

JJ sighed and threw one of the finished case files onto the table. “I’m beat. I can’t find anything. I think if I close my eyes, I can see the text written on the back of my eyelids.”

The others felt the same so it wasn’t long before they, one by one, went to bed. 

Leaving just yourself and Spencer by the warming fire. 

As it approached four in the morning, you closed your file and rubbed your eyes. 

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed. If I look at this case file much longer, I’m gonna be like JJ.”

However, despite wishing to go to bed, you must have fallen asleep on the sofa as a few moments later, Spencer’s hand was on your shoulder. 

“Hey, you fell asleep.”

“Oh.”

“I would have left you, but you’ll probably wake up with a stiff neck.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Spencer helped you sit up and you watched him tidy away a couple of the case files. They were safe enough in the boxes considering the entire team had all the rooms in the hotel booked out. 

Once he had done that, you tidying up a few of the boxes, Spencer fixed the fire guard in front of the diminishing flames when you stood and said;

“Goodnight, or…Good morning or…whichever it is. I’ll see you when I wake up.”

“I love you.”

That stopped you in your tracks and woke you up. 

With you back still to Spencer, you took a moment to breathe. Maybe you had just imagined it. 

You heard Spencer whisper something to himself, a small battle growing large in his head over letting those three words slip. 

Until, he said them again. 

And this time you heard him crystal clear. 

“I love you.”

Turning around slowly, you were soon met with his own back.

“What?”

Your voice, despite how much you thought you had your emotions in check, wavered. 

Spencer turned around to face you. “I-I’m sorry. I-I should just let you-”

“Spencer, wait-”

You practically jumped forward, reaching out for him to stop. And he did. 

“Say it again.”

Standing so close to him, the heat you felt…you couldn’t tell if it was from the diminishing embers or from Spencer himself. 

“I love you.”

“Do you…” you swallowed, looking down for a moment, feeling his fingers trace yours. You finally looked back up to his face. “Do you mean it…as in…”

“M-more than what we are.” 

It was his turn for his voice to shake. 

“Are you…sure that you…”

“Sure enough, like how I know how…how to…breathe. Although, right now I don’t know how much of that is true because…because I don’t know how to-”

You placed a hand on his chest but Spencer’s own hand came to cover yours and moved it over his heart. 

“I’d say you’re breathing.”

Spencer smiled. “Good.”

“I love you. I-I don’t know what this means, or what it will do and, honestly, I didn’t mean to tell you like this but I was thinking and then, I started overthinking and, I don’t know, when you said goodnight, I meant to say it back and then I-”

“Spence. Spencer,” you tried your best to slow him down. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. “I love you, too.”

“You-you love me, too?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

You nodded, holding his face in your hands. “I do. I love you, too, Spencer. I-I always have.”

From your hips, one of Spencer’s hands stopped at your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer until your body was flushed with his before allowing his other to move further up, brushing the hair from your face and across your back. His finger traced the shape of your face, before settling under your jaw, bringing your face closer to his. 

He took it slow. 

Even despite the fact you had reciprocated his feelings of love, he gave you time to opt out. To say no. to push him away. 

Flicking his eyes from your own, to your lips and back again. The first touch of his lips against yours was soft, barely fleeting. 

Until you kissed back. 

Your relaxed hands pulled him slightly closer, first by his neck, then by the collar of his shirt. All the while, his arms snaked around you, holding you flush against him. 

“I might be a few years late in asking, but,” Spencer said once he finally managed to catch his breath. “Can I take you on a date?”

“Yes. Yes, Spencer. You can take me on a date.”

Years Later...

“Did I ever tell you you look good in this?”

“Your cardigans, you mean?” You smiled as Spencer took hold of your hand and pulled you closer. “Oh, every day. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well, you do.”

With a smile as he pulled you down and onto his lap, you kissed him, your arms coming around his neck and across his shoulders. 

“Good.”

It had been four years since Spencer had first admitted his feelings for you and, even if life had sent you both through trials and tribulations, you’d both made it alive, together and stronger than ever. 

It hadn’t taken that long for the rest of the team to figure out something had finally happened between you two, however, it still had taken a while. It was only because Morgan recognised a second cardigan that had belonged to Spencer less than a week earlier suddenly wrapped around you one late evening. 

“And speaking of cardigans…” you sat up a little straighter to see Spencer as he leaned his head back to take you in fully. 

He still looked at you with as much love and adoration as he had done that early morning in the hotel. Perhaps even more. 

“We’re gonna need to buy a couple more.”

“Didn’t you just buy one yesterday?”

“Perhaps,” you nodded. “But this one isn’t for you, well…us…exactly.” 

It hadn’t taken long for you to start wearing Spencer’s cardigans on a daily basis, but he was more than agreeable to it considering whenever he saw you in one of his, his heart soared and he knew you felt safe in them, too. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, considering ours might be a little too big…”

Then it clicked for Spencer. 

“You’re…”

From a small pocket in your cardigan, you pulled out a positive pregnancy test. 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Spence.”

Tears already starting to fall from your eyes, you watched as Spencer welled up and with a shaking hand took hold of the test to look at it. 

“You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant!”

In a sweeping kiss, Spencer pulled you closer as you slid down and lay against his side, your legs still over his. 

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Spencer smiled, turning from the pregnancy test to you with a smile unlike any other you’d ever seen on his face. 

“We’re gonna have a baby.”

[lilbitdepressed27]

JENVERSE

Jenna Ortega/Fem!Reader

Summary: where they all meet

Warnings: death, angst, confusion?

WC: 8.4k

Author's note: This was supposed to be posted a while back but I was too busy moving and completely forgot, so sorry about that. Hope you guys enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes :) also italics means flashbacks

You weren't sure where you were at. One second you were at home and the next you literally blinked and the next thing you knew you were in the middle of the woods. You didn't know how to react. The first thing you thought of was that you had fallen asleep. With the thought it mind you finally got your legs to move. Walking in the wet woods. The more you walked the more confused you got.

Where exactly were you?

It wasn't long till you found an opening, a path leading into a town. The town looked small, unfamiliar. With things still feeling a bit, hazy? You crossed the street leading into town. Not seeing the car driving towards you. The sound of screeching tires, and the impact of the car hitting you was like an ice cold water being dumped over your head. The pain being too real for this to be a dream.

"It can't be."

Was the last thing you heard before your world faded into darkness.

*

Before you actually opened your eyes, you felt the soft bed you were laying in, a smell that seemed like you smelt it before but you couldn't place it anywhere. The pain from being hit by car was still there.

"Fuck, so I'm not dreaming." You finally opened your eyes. The room was unfamiliar, you had no clue where you were. Obviously not a hospital. Getting out of bed was a bit painful but you only had a bruise on your right leg from where the car hit you. "Where the hell am I?"

The room was spacious. Probably bigger than your apartment. You made your way towards the door, limping as you walked out of the room. The house seemed like an old moderen home. A home that reminded you a lot of the Addams Family. You loved that movie.

As you walked down the hall, you heard a few voices. Quietly following the voices. Rounding the corner only to freeze in your steps. You were now in a big living room. But the luxury of the big house wasn't what had you freezing in your step. It was of the people who were standing in the room looking at you like they knew you. The weird thing was how they all looked the same but weirdly different in their own way.

"Uh hello." You gave a small wave lamely. The women in room also seemed frozen in their shoes. But the sound of your voice had them snapping out of what ever they could be thinking of.

"H-How are you feeling?" The one with a southern accent spoke. She was cute, some cute overalls with a yellow striped shirt underneath, but they all were cute really.

To be honest your leg was killing you but it wasn't broken or anything. But seeing the concern shinning and what seemed to be tears misting the girl's eyes you didn't have the heart to worry her more. "I'm okay, don't worry."

But they did worry. They were worried. They didn't know what brought them together but they came to realize that they all had something in common. Something they all had lost. That something was you. The more they got to know each other, the more they spoke about their own Y/n. And their Y/n shared more than a few things in common. One of the things that was shared was, how you would push away any and if not all of your own feelings to make sure their were okay.

They had considered this your only flaw.

"Sit down, how are you really feeling?" The one wearing all black, had walked towards you, directing you towards a chair. Seeing that she didn't seem like she takes no for an answer. You sat down on the chair.

"I'm good really, what's your girls name? Are you guys like sextuplets, that's so cool. I've never met some before. Also who hit me with a car? I'm not mad or anything. Was just wondering. Um I'm Y/n by the way." You cleared your throat feeling your cheeks heating up at the way the women were looking at you.

"N-Yes, we're sextuplets. I'm Cairo." Cario, who also had a southern accent although hers wasn't as strong as the woman in overalls is. She had cut off the one in baggy clothes, you couldn't get over how beautiful every single one of them are. How they all looked the same but yet different by the way they dressed and styled their hair.

"I'm Vada." The one with baggy clothes said. Her eyes also seemed to fill with unshed tears as she tried to avoid your eyes. Her voice coming out shaky.

"My name is Lorraine." The one with overalls.

"Tara." She was sitting in between Vada and Lorraine. She also refused to look you in the eyes though.

"Mable." This one the other hand couldn't take her eyes off of you. You didn't mind. A part of you wanted to be looked at by the beautiful women in front of you.

"And I'm Wednesday. My friend was the one to hit you with a her vehicle. You had come out of woods so quickly she barely had enough time to stop. So I know you're lying." The one in all black said. But her name had you taking a closer look. She did give off the Addams Family vibes.

"Well it's a bit sore, but I'm fine really. Nothing I can't handle." You said with a beaming smile. Hoping that it could prove that you were, really fine. But all you got from the girl standing in front of you was a look of pure sadness. "Okay what gives? Why are all you looking at me like I'm dead or something? I swear it's not the first time someone's hit me with a car."

The six pair of eyes looked away from you. You could feel the grief coming from all of them. You weren't sure what to do. They all looked like they could use a hug. You were never really good at comforting people. But the strong desire to comfort every single one of them, was strong.

"Are..Are you guys alright? I'm sorry if I said something wrong, I didn't mean to. My mouth tends to run before I can actually process what I'm thinking. I consider it a flaw. But you know, well not that you do know cause I'm basically a stranger-uh I'm gonna shut up." You scratched your neck felling stupid and extremely embarrassed. You could feel your body over heating and your cheeks burning.

Man I gotta learn how to keep my mouth shut.

The women in the room could only look at you in a sort of awe, a yearning look. They all missed their own Y/n. Seeing a version of their Y/n standing in front of them was, sorrowful. They knew you would go back to your earth. Just like every single one of them would. A world where their Y/n wasn't there.

From the corner of your eye you saw Wednesday walk towards you. You looked towards her and even though she had a straight face, you could see a storm in those dark brown eyes. Which was weird. You could never read people like this.

"Do you know how you got here?"

That was a good question. You don't know. Last thing you remembered you were editing your video, your eyes had felt dry and they were burning from looking at your computer screen for too long. You had shut your eyes for not even a full minute. When you opened them you were in the middle of the woods. You honestly would have still thought this was a dream if you didn't get hit by that car.

"Uh I don't know. This is going to sound crazy but one second I was in my room editing one of my videos and the next I was in the woods." Saying it out loud did in fact sound crazy. If these girls thought you were high on drugs you certainly wouldn't blame them.

"Y/n do you believe in the multiverse?"

The sight of you straightening up and smiling down at Wednesday it had been the first time in three months since she's seen that familiar smile in person. She knew how much she missed yo-her Y/n. How much she craved her Y/n's presence. How empty she had felt since her Y/n...died. Y/n had died a painful death. Her Y/n had been shot and killed during a school shooting. She remembered that day like it were yesterday. How she wished she had been with you. Or wished that she would have stopped you from leaving the class room.

But she wasn't the only one to lose you in a school shooting, taking a quick glance at Vada, who was already looking at her. She knew that look. And she was sure she had the same look in her eye.

The only difference was she avenged her y/n, killed and tortured the man who took her y/n away from her. That man died a long painful death. No one could prove it was her. Vada didn't have that same privilege.

"Oh yeah! Just the thought of there being more earths is so fascinating, other versions of yourself is such a scary but yet pretty cool thought." You answered. Everyone in the room paying close attention to you.

"Do you know of someone named Jenna Ortega?" Cairo asked as she leaned back into her seat. Her eyes intensely looking at you. Refusing to look away.

"Uh name sounds familiar. But personally I don't think so." You lived in Alaska, didn't have any type of social media. Just your YouTube channel. You absolutely loved living in Alaska, making little survival videos was a lovely pastime. It was also your income.

"Alright we are going to cut this short. I'm tired biting around the bush. Is your name Y/n Y/mn Y/ln? Were you born in y/ht? Is your mom Y/mn and dad Y/dn? Was your first camera a Polaroid 600?"

The girl you know as Tara finally spoke. Her eyes misting with unshed tears. Her gaze was strong, this was the first time she actually looked at you. And her eyes held so much pain and, regret?

"What the..? How-How do you know that?" You were now a bit more than just confused. A little weirded out, that someone you just met, knew so much about you.

"Y/n we aren't sextuplets, we aren't from this earth and neither are you." Tara said her voice firm and serious. It felt like it's been too long since she last saw yo-her Y/n. Her Y/n had died in the attacks in New York. Her Y/n died in her arms in that theater. She remembered begging. Pleading for her Y/n to not leave her. Begging for forgiveness for not trusting you. Hating herself for not trusting you, for turning her back on you. Everything that was left unsaid. The guilt, the grief, it had almost lead her to her own death.

"I don't know why you're here or why we're here but we have some theories." Tara said her gaze no longer looking at you. She couldn't keep looking, feeling like she was unworthy to look in your eyes.

"Alright, so what are those theories?" A part of you didn't believe her but yet she spoke so seriously. It was kinda hard not to believe her.

Every single one of them pulled a phone or in Wednesday's and Lorraine's case, a picture. You furrowed your eyebrows confused as they all handed you their phones and pictures. Only for your eyes to widen. In every single picture there was a version of, you.

Your hair styled differently in every photo but you nevertheless. In every picture you looked happy with every single girl being close to you in a romantic way. The first picture was of you and Lorraine. This version of you was on a horse in a open field, a cowboy hat on your head as Lorraine sat in front of you, your arms wrapped around her waist in such a loving way as Lorraine looked at you with so much love.

The next picture was of a different version of you with Wednesday, you were both in uniforms, in what seemed to be in a dark dorm room, it was clear that you were the one holding up the camera taking the picture. This version of you was smiling as well as you had Wednesday pulled close to you.

The next picture was of you and Mable in front what seemed to be a wrecked boat. Mable was smiling wide as she hugged your side, one hand under your shirt as you had an arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaning down as you kissed the top of her head.

The next picture was of you and Cairo, although this one seemed more platonic than romantic. You were both seating at what seemed to be a couch in a room, someone else was clearly taking the picture, Cairo looking at you with such longing as you just smiled at the camera.

The next one was with you and Vada, with her on your lap as you sat on a bench. The phone was propped up by something as you both smiled at the camera. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her cheeks pressed to yours.

The last picture was of you and Tara. You both were cuddled up on a couch, most of her body was on top of you her hand had been creasing your cheek, as your own arms were wrapped around her waist.

You honestly never seen yourself so happy and in love. In every single picture, you were happy. But the question now running through your mind now. If you were so happy and in love in these pictures.

Where were you.

It was like they could read your mind. Cause the next words out of Cairo's mouth were the answers to why your other yous weren't present.

"You're dead in our earths."

"Oh."

It explained why they always looked so sad when they looked at you. You wanted to know how you died. But you didn't want to offend or bring back bad memories for them. Clearly losing a version of yourself was hard for them. Judging by the way they all avoided your eyes.

"Like Tara said, we don't know why we're here. But it seems that you are a common factor in our lives." Wednesday spoke after a moment of silence.

"Okay, okay so what exactly do you girls want-Wait, um how did I, uh how did my...doppelgänger? I'm not sure if I should even ask."

Wednesday took mercy on you, "It was different. Which is why we think it's best if everyone has their own moment with you."

*

She didn't know what was going on, she remembered going to sleep after a busy, hectic day. She had been tired, so exhausted. She loved her job, it was something she had worked so hard to do and to be the person she was today. Loving every single roll she had done, but with those rolls came the exhaustion of having to be the best she could. Her fame had grown and cause of this there wasn't much she could do without being seen and stopped.

She loved her fans, but what she loved more was a moment of peace.

The celebrity life came with so much opportunities and luxuries, it also came with so many down falls. What she longed more than anything was someone to trust, someone to love. Someone who loved her for who she was, not because she was Jenna Ortega but because she was just a girl who longed to be loved. She had tried to find that type of love. But it had been hard, especially since she was celebrity. People only wanted to date her cause of what her name could give them.

The noise of laughter brought her back to the situation she was in now. She seemed to be at a farm house, one she never seen before. The noise from outside was so, quiet, but yet loud. Not the type of loud that busy cities brought. The loud noise that she gotten used to. No it was the nature type of loud. The birds, the slight noise of the wind. It was peaceful.

But where the hell was she.

Walking towards the window, the sight of acres of farm had her freezing at the sight. Fear gripping her heart. The confusion doubled when she glanced at the mirror. Double taking when she realized what she was wearing. More like who she looked like.

Lorraine.

The character she played in the movie X. But there was no cameras here. There was never a farm where her lived, other than the one in the movie. And this was nothing like it. Lorraine's character never had a room and this one was clearly hers, based off all the pictures. Her eyes stopping at the sight of a beautiful woman with gorgeous y/ec eyes standing close to her character Lorraine. The way those obvious strong arms wrapped around Lorraine shoulders from behind. As they both smiled to camera.

There was more pictures of this y/ec eyed woman.

"What the fuck is happening."

*

The house was empty. But the more she explored the house the more confusion and questions came. Her character Lorraine never had parents, but this one did. She was so confused and she didn't even know where to start to get answers.

"Lorraine? You okay in there? We were supposed to go horse back riding."

The voice was the most gentle spoken voice she had ever heard. This causing her to open the door. Her jaw dropping slightly at the sight of the most beautiful, handsome woman she's ever laid eyes on.

Feeling a warm hand on her cheek, had her leaning towards that warmth subconsciously. Something about this person calmed her, made her feel safe?

"Hey you okay? You're looking a little pale. Let's go lay you down? I could call Wayne, tell them you're not up for that trip?"

"Uh..." She couldn't focus, this persons hands were so soft, she was completely in awe at this woman's beauty.

So was this a dream? A weird dream of a movie she was in, but the person in front of her wasn't in the movie. She was a complete stranger. A beautiful stranger. Back to the said trip was something that ends up killing her.

"You can't say no."

The eerie sound of her own voice talking to her, had her looking away from the girl in front of her. Looking at...her character Lorraine.

"What?" The cowgirl didn't move she was oddly still. Her eyes not even blinking.

"You can't stop what's going to happen."

"You're not real-But I am. This is real. You're not dreamin'. If anything I'm the one who's dreamin'."

"Her name is Y/n. She's beautiful ain't she."

Jenna stood shocked, eyes wide when Lorraine's hand moved to touch Y/n's cheek only for her hand to go through like if she were a ghost.

"What's going on? Where am I? How are you even real?" The questions left her mouth before she could process them.

"Do you believe in the multiverse?"

"No, yes, maybe. I don't know. You're telling me you're from another earth?"

"This may have been a movie for you, but for me, it was real." Lorraine couldn't look away from you. You were as beautiful as the last time she saw you. How she wished she could touch you, kiss you, hug you one more time. She would never let you go.

*

Jenna only blinked and she was no longer at that warm farm house but now she was that familiar cabin. Except now there was no camera crew. No camera, filming equipment other than Owen-RJ's camera and sound equipment. But now here she was getting ready for that scene she films with Sco-Jackson. Except it wasn't Jackson. It was Y/n.

"She was the best I ever had. Not because she knew what she was doing. But because how she made me feel. She made feel so loved. I loved her. More than I could ever love anyone." How Lorraine wished she had more time with you. More time to show you how much she really did love you. You never got a chance to hear her say I love you.

The scene changed before she could see the scene. Watching the after math. How Y/n cared for Lorraine. How the taller girl made sure she was alright. Those y/ec eyes filled with so much love. She never knew someone could look so in love. But then the scene changed again. No longer was she in the cabin but in the kitchen.

Watching as y/n rushed into the kitchen. Getting Lorraine out of the basement. Instead of panicking and running out of the kitchen like she did and getting shot. Y/n was able to calm Lorraine down.

She watched at Y/n put the safety of Lorraine first before her own. Watching as the taller girl was obviously injured as well. As the two hid in the attic, she also watched how you held Lorraine close. How Y/n tried to comfort Lorraine.

The next moments were like in slow motion. How you struggled to keep the attic door closed as Lorraine tried to look for a way out. Her own heart lurched as they barely made out of the window. From the distance she could hear the police quickly approaching. But it had been too late.

The sound of Lorraine crying out, her own arms reaching to catch the tall girl from falling off the roof. It was too late. Watching as Lorraine jumped from the roof as the gun shots rang out. Landing right next to you in pile of hay.

Hearing her cries, begging Y/n to stay awake. Begging, the cries of pure anguish, her own eyes filled with tears.

*

It felt like wipe lash when she blinked again and was in a completely different environment. This time she was in a place that resembled the bar that was back in Massachusetts. She could still feel Lorraine's grief, it made her want to cry out as well. Feeling like she was the one to lose Y/n.

"Hey baby." Mable had came into the bar with a smile, although it was more of a smirk. Hugging someone from behind, Mable's arms wrapping around the person sitting back on the couch shoulders. Before getting on their lap.

She watched as her, doppelgänger? Was this another universe? The confusion came back watching as her character from yet another movie she made was an actual person kiss...Y/n? But yet this Y/n looked different but yet the same. This y/n was dressed a lot more laid back then the cowboy Y/n. Cowboy Y/n had been dressed for farm work.

She could only watch as Mable was a lot more affectionate with Y/n and that was saying something seeing as her character Mable was only affectionate with Toby-Charlie behind closed doors. The smile that Mable had on her face was the same look as the one Lorraine had. The look of pure love.

"How about you and me get outta here?"

The smile on Y/n's face made her blush a bit. The turmoil of emotions she was feeling was giving her wipelash. She just saw a version of this person die. And now this version of the person was smiling and clearly suggesting something...

"Mmh come on. I know the perfect spot."

It felt invasive. She felt like she shouldn't watch this moment. Feeling she was intruding on something that she had no business doing. But the way she saw Mable interact with this Y/n was, something she longed for. But she couldn't get the way Lorraine's Y/n had died out of her head.

~

The scene had changed so drastically, she remembers this scene, even though it wasn't in the movie. How Mable was beat to get information on the drugs. But this time Mable wasn't alone. Y/n had been with her. This Y/n did the exact same thing, the cowboy version of Y/n had done. Risked her own life to protect Mable.

"Stop it! I swear. I swear I don't know where it is!"

Mable cried as she was held down as she watched them beat you. You had tried to fight back but you had been quickly over powered. She could only watch as their fist came down hard on to your face and body.

"Mm I don't know. Seems to me like you're lying."

The sound of the gun clicking had her thrashing hard trying everything and anything to get out of this guys hold.

But it wasn't enough.

"No!! Please! Please!! Stop it! Don't do this please."

"Show her why you shouldn't fuck with me or my money."

The sound of y/n chocking on her own blood had her tears blur her vision, "it's it's okay Mable. It's okay. It's-"

Her eyes widen in shock as the gun shot rang through her ears, the cry leaving Mable's mouth falling on deaf ears as her own hands covered her mouth as she also cried out. Her legs had moved forward without realizing as she had tried to stop the gun men but her hands had gone right through.

Her eyes refusing to looking away from Y/n's unmoving body.

*

She wanted to wake up from this horrible night mare. She didn't even know this Y/n but seeing her die twice already was, too much. The ache, the loss she felt was too much.

But she knew, that this wasn't over. Not when she saw the familiar school. Which meant one thing. This one she could prepare herself for. Hopefully.

School shooting.

"Hey there my precious little Adam Sandler."

The mock scuff which was more of snort of laughter was what the taller girl got in response. Leaning down to kiss those lips.

"Shut up, we should totally ditch."

Y/n’s back was quick to face the shorter girl, crouching down a bit so she could reach. "Hop on my lady."

Jenna watched with a small sad smile. Knowing what was to come. She was still confused, but that last two, it was starting to connect in her own mind. She had two theories. This Y/n was obvious a common factor, someone her cha-doppelgängers cared for.

This time she wasn't surprised when the scene changed. Hearing the soft cries of Vada, Mia and Quinton. The sound of gunshots going off in the distance. The distant noise of the police sirens and shouts followed by more gun shots.

"Y/n, open your eyes. Come on. Please."

Even though she had tried to prepare herself for what she was going to see. No amount of preparations could prepare for what she was seeing.

"Don't leave me. Please." Vada had refused to accept you were gone. Even though she could no longer feel your chest moving. She couldn't help the sobs that left her body.

The pure anguish was too much to bare. She could only watch as the cops came into the bathroom. Faces full of hidden anger, anguish and so many other emotions. They took Mia and Quinton. She watched as the cop checked Y/n's pulse on her wrist and when he got nothing he looked away. Trying to hide his tears.

"I'm sorry kid. She's gone."

Vada shook her head. Pulling you closer. "No, please help her. You have to help her." Your head falling limply on her shoulder. She never felt this type of pain. Her heart felt like it had been torn to shreds.

The police officer looked behind him helplessly. The paramedic that was with him nodded and put her bag down. Doing her job. But the paramedic knew it was no use. The kid was cold to the touch. There was no pulse.

"I'm sorry, but she's gone. There's nothing I can do."

~

"Oh my god Y/n for the last time. I know what I'm doing. I'm eighteen. I'm not a child."

"But Cairo, he's a grown man and married. It's wrong. He's your teacher."

You had found out by accident, having come across them awfully close outside a what appeared to be a library. You were worried, afraid that Mr.Miller was abusing his power as her teacher and making her do things for a better grade. Not that she needed a better grade. Cairo was smart.

"I don't care. I know what I want, if you're here just to complain about my life choices, I think you should leave."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, you hated when Cairo closed off like this. How she always turned in to being so mean when she felt like she was being put in a corner. You didn't want her to feel like that. "Cairo, I just don't want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of."

"I don't need you to keep saving me Y/n. I don't need it."

This one was different from all the others. This one for obvious reasons, her doppelgänger and Y/n weren't romantically involved. This one she could see the hurt look on Y/n's face.

The second Y/n was out of the room, she saw the look of regret wash over Cairo's face.

~

"Come on Cairo, hurry up!" It had been two weeks since your little fight with Cairo. As much as you had been a bit hurt and extremely disappointed, you couldn't control Cairo. If she wanted to be with that man, you couldn't stop it. She was her own person. So you had live with that.

But you had been so close to talking to the principal. The person to stop you had been Winnie. Talking in to not saying anything. In the fear of damaging more of Cairo's reputation and chances at a her preferred college. So that had stopped you.

With the hopes that Cairo would open her eyes and see what that man was doing was wrong, you stepped back. Although, you still kept a close eye.

From the interactions she saw of Cairo and this Y/n, they held back so much emotions it was almost overwhelming. The confusion of the way these two completely ignored their own feelings. In the fear of rejection. How she watched this Y/n, pour her own feelings in letters. Accepting that Cairo would never feel the same way. How you tried your best to move on.

Cairo's story was a bit different than all the others. It angered her so much that Cairo couldn't see how much she had been hurting Y/n.

But she also saw how much Cairo herself had hid her own feelings towards Y/n's. So if obvious when this Y/n started dating her soccer coach, how jealous Cairo had gotten. She watched as Cairo saw reason and started pulling away from Mr.Miller. What she also saw was how angered Mr.Miller had gotten.

The scene changed, she heard the struggle of a fight before anything. Then followed the gun shot, then an echoing silence. Before a gut wrenching sob broke the silence. She couldn't find it in her self to turn the corner to see Cairo. To see Cairo's Y/n dead. Just like the others. She couldn't keep going through this. The pain of it all was too much.

The cries became muffled.

Another y/n lost.

*

"Wednesday?"

That was the voice of Emma Myers. Standing at the entrance of the dorm room was a sad/worried looking Enid. Wednesday stood by a board, a man in his mid thirties in the center of it all. There was no sign of Y/n. Maybe this one was different, maybe-her eyes stopped at the sight of five pictures. Her eyes finding the picture she was scared to find. There she was, Y/n in the nevermore uniform along with the other nevermore students. Under the word victims.

"Y/n wouldn't want this Wednesday.

"Y/n is dead. And I'll make sure she gets the justice she deserves."

~

Jenna had to witness Wednesday's fall into madness. Part of her felt relieved that she didn't have to witness another Y/n's death. But this, this felt worse. To witness the grief, the anger, the need to get the desired revenge in Wednesday. When Wednesday finally found the man, it had been. Worse than she could imagine.

Behind the anger, the grief was always growing. Seeing the way that Wednesday tortured the man. He's cries for mercy going ignored. He's pleas of forgiveness, they were met with even more brutal force. Broken bones, all the blood in the room. It did nothing to fill the emptiness in the Addam's heart. And Jenna knew that.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't bring her back."

*

She hated this. She was now somewhere that was a bit more quiet. No sounds of violence. No cries for help. No begging for the other to stay.

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!"

She was tired of seeing this. Seeing her doppelgängers suffer. Losing someone they loved.

"We don't know. But for some reason. Y/n seems to be in the center of it."

Turning around to see Tara. This Tara seemed older. Which was weird. She never really had to try hard to look young. But Tara, she looked like she was in her mid twenties. No longer a high school student. Or a college student.

"Why is this happening? How are you, real?" She was finally talking to one of her chara-doppelgänger. It was something she still couldn't believe. But it was hit more easier to accept. With Lorraine it felt like the girl wasn't talking directly to her but more to herself.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Jenna took in the appearance of Tara. As well put as she was, Jenna could see the sadness in those eyes. Tara was more mature. She was afraid to ask. Afraid of the answer she would get to the question she already knew the answer to. Every single one of the doppelgängers were different, but they all shared the same look in their eyes.

"Mmh how about you come with me. We could lay under the stars-In Alaska?!" Tara's laugh cut you off. Your own laugh joined hers. You knew how easy Tara got cold. Winter time was always a struggle for the girl.

"We'll be in the proper gear, bundled up nice and warm. Watching the northern lights together." Your arms pulled her closer to you, she was quick to wrap her own arms around your torso. Craving the warmness that you always provided to her.

"She wanted so badly to go to Alaska."

Wanted. Past tense. She let out a soft sigh as she let Tara reminisce. The memory of them changed again. The memories played like a movie.

You stood in the kitchen, ears covered with headphones as she cooked for the group. Tara sat on the counter scrolling on her phone. She had wanted to be in your presence while you cooked but didn't want to bother your deep focus on your craft. She also loved being your little taste tester. The way you would spoon feed her some of the food. How you would stand between her legs, when you had few minutes to spare before you had to return to cooking. Gently rubbing her back as you embraced, it was a peace of quiet and comfort that she always looked forward to.

"Was it ghostface?" Jenna couldn't help but to ask. Tara and Y/n had looked so happy. So at peace.

Tara sighed as her eyes refused to look away from what she was seeing. This memory was one of her favorites. The peace that you brought her had always calmed her in a way no one else could. "Yeah." But she had ruined it.

Of course it was ghostface. She felt stupid that she even asked that question.

*

Jenna stood in the kitchen. The air was tense. It was completely from the comfort and warmth that she felt in the kitchen.

"What? You think I'm just gonna take a knife outta my ass now?" You were fed up. Angry, hurt, feeling betrayed. First they didn't let you go with Anika, cause they wanted to keep their eyes on you and now they refused to even let you speak. You tried so hard to ignore the need to cry. You felt like you were loosing everything.

"So who are you working with. I mean you were obviously in the apartment when the other ghostface was attacking. But now Gale is on the verge of death." Detective Bailey wasn't letting up. If anything he was the one to continue hammering you with questions.

You were tired of defending yourself. So you just stayed quiet. "Got nothing to say?"

"Detective, stop. She hasn't left our side." Tara said from leaning on the wall. Her eyes refusing to meet yours. The little moment you had when she defended you outside the apartment long gone.

Bailey scoffed, "of course she hasn't Tara. It's why there's always a second ghostface. Always someone else to continue killing people while the other plays the victim. Don't think I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull if I even see you raise a finger at these girls."

You didn't know what else to do. How else to prove your innocence. Not when no one else believed you and the one person that did was in the hospital fighting for her life. How you wished you had gone with Anika.

"You thought she was ghostface?" Jenna couldn't even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. She felt like she knew where this was going. Seeing the heartbroken and lonely look in those y/ec eyes had been just as gut wrenching.

Tara hated seeing the way she had treated you in your last hours. Seeing you like this again had her heart breaking once again. "I—I was scared."

Jenna wanted to scoff but she bit her lip, "and you think she wasn't?" She couldn't help herself. Seeing this version of Y/n so broken and lonely made her feel so, protective? She always had been protective of the people she loved family, friends. But this type of protectiveness. It was new.

Tara teared her eyes away from you. "I have no excuse. In her final moments, I didn't deserve the love she had for me. I let my fear win over everything I felt for her."

"No he's lying!!" "Please Tara, you have to believe-Oh Y/n they didn't believe you then. They sure won't believe you know. I mean, you always called them your family. But that wasn't the case with you was it? You should have seen them, when you became a suspect. How easy it was to hack your phone, make them believe you didn't answer their calls."

The broken and betrayed look in this Y/n's eyes, had been so immense. Jenna could only watch helplessly once again as a version of Y/n was at a life threatening situation. A death that would be unavoidable.

*

"You let her die, if you'd had just believed her. She would have had better chance at surviving." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. The anger she felt at seeing y/n die once again but this time with the feeling of feeling of being unloved. All the other Y/n's deaths they dead still feeling loved. Scared but loved.

This y/n. This y/n died thinking no one trusted her. That no one loved her enough to believe her. The look in those y/ec eyes made he want to punch Tara. Tara and all the other friends.

"I've seen her die so many different ways. But in all those ways she died with the person who she loved showing her she was loved in her final moments. But you. You at every chance let her down."

"You don't think I know that? You don't think that every day that's passed since she's been gone I haven't blamed myself. I don't know what I was thinking alright! All I felt was fear. Amber did it to me and and the thought of Y/n doing it to me crossed my mind and it stayed." Tara cried in anger. She didn't deserve you. She let her own fear win over and now she lost the one person that she loved the most.

Jenna looked away from Tara, the scene now at a cemetery. The grave with Y/n's name, picture, date of birth with the date of death. The grave filled with flowers.

"She died thinking I didn't love her. It's never left my mind. It's enough for to want to end it. And I know that's selfish. We all lost our Y/n in a brutal way. I think it's why we're here." Tara spoke in a different tone. Her fingers creasing the stone.

"We're all connected to y/n. A different version of y/n, but the same person. I think it's the universes way of saying that maybe one version of ourselves deserves their happiness with Y/n. Maybe it's you."

**^

Jenna woke up with start, feeling nauseated, disoriented, her head was spinning, the ache in her heart was too strong. She wouldn't say she didn't believe in soul mates but, something about this Y/n. To see this Y/n and her doppelgängers love so deeply so purely. But then to see that love be taken away from her doppelgängers. It had been soul crushing. To see the agony, the heartache in their eyes. It affected her as well.

She didn't even know how to find her Y/n, cause that who you were right? Her soulmate. The confusion on why this was happening still remained but it wasn't as much anymore.

"Jenna!? Do you plan to sleep in the whole day?! Come on get up!" The sound of her sisters voice Aliyah, she remembers now being on a long well deserved break. After the success of Beetle Juice 2 and Wednesday season 2. Her manager had her take a good few months off. Granted she still had some interviews and photo shoots to do. But those weren't as draining.

She was back home. Barely a day but yet it felt longer. This made her feel even more confused as she got up and got ready for the day. Stepping out of her shared bedroom. Her mind wondered back to Y/n. She couldn't explain this new sense of loneliness she was now feeling. The love that her doppelgängers shared with their own Y/n.

The love and happiness that they had shared was something she always feared in a way. To love and give yourself to someone like that had always scared her. But what she feared now was finding that love only for it to be taken away from her.

"—most people sell these off grid cabins with all their equipment and other things still here. Because of how deep, the snow gets, getting moving trucks down here is a big no. Also the roads here are all muddy when it's not covered in snow."

Her heart felt like it picked up its pace at the sound of that voice coming from the living room. Turning into the living only to see you on the tv screen. There you were in what looked like a small cabin in the middle of the woods. You were recording yourself with an excited smile on your face.

"Oh check it out, it's a log splitter. And it works! Oh man this will come in handy."

Her eyes couldn't look away. Your smile, your eyes. So full of life and happiness. "Is that—That's Y/n, a YouTuber dad started watching. She's pretty interesting, makes survival hunting fishing all in one videos. So what's your plan...You okay?" She couldn't hear her younger sister talking. All she could focus on was how you looked.

She had to find you. Had to find a way to get to you.

*

You couldn't wrap your head around what happened. Your neck ached from the passion you woke up in. Here you were, at your house in Alaska editing your latest video. You didn't remember falling asleep. But seeing those women suffering in such way had been gut wrenching. The pain they had felt it, you felt. The ache of it all had been so intense, so overwhelming.

You never knew love like that. Feeling like you'd always end dying alone. Always referred as the cool aunt that lives in the middle of butt fuck no where. To have someone love you so deeply, so strongly like that was so bizarre. You didn't even know where to find this person. Jenna Ortega. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. Quickly going on google to type in the name. Your jaw dropping at the sight. There she was as beautiful as ever. A star actress from the hit show Wednesday, age twenty two, big movies such as Scream and Beetle Juice. She was a big star one that was guaranteed hard to get in contact.

*

The sound of knocking on your door grabbed your attention, as you exited your bathroom from taking a shower. You were quick to put on a hoodie, as you hurried to the door. You weren't sure who could it be seeing as your closest neighbors were almost twenty miles away. With the how cold it was outside you knew no vehicle without some strong durability to these roads was going to be out in these conditions.

With the door being pulled open your greetings stayed stuck in your throat. It had been two weeks since that dream. Cause there was no way it could be real, right? Did you take a little chance and follow the actress. Yes. Did you DM her? Yes. But nothing came out of that. So you chucked it up to being a crazy dream. The huge bruise on your left leg, you brushed it off as hurting yourself while you filmed your videos and just never noticed.

Those dark brown eyes looked at you in way that made you feel so exposed. Her gentle smile felt like a spark starting to burn in your chest. A cold breeze and her shivering pulled you from your thoughts.

"C-Come in."

It took a bit longer for her to find you. But thankfully she was Jenna Ortega. She had ways to find people. And she the money to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was to find you. And here you were looking absolutely breath taking. Looking, alive.

The warmness off the house was enough to warm her completely. But the warmness that you brought without even trying was even better.

There was no awkwardness in the room. Just a lingering shyness, words unspoken.

"So it wasn't a dream. Right? I mean that's why you're here, right? It's uh bit crazy you know, I didn't want to believe, not that your not great cause you are but because it's that your so great and incredibly beautiful, uh I just thought it was some weird dream cause l mean I don't really know what I mean I just, oh my god please say something, I can't stop talking. I'm just really nervous all of sudden—Hey take a deep breath."

Her hands had taken your in hers. Your hands had felt so warm and much bigger than hers. She couldn't help but smile, your rambling was so adorable. Making her feel warm inside. It was odd, to feel this comfortable with someone she just met. But yet it felt like she knew you. That feeling that she's felt since she woke up, that emptiness was gone. At the feeling of your hands in her it was like a missing piece in her puzzle.

At the sight of the redness of your cheeks as your breathing settled into a much calmer pace.

"Sorry."

With a squeeze to your hand, "It's okay. I know all this is crazy. And there's no way to actually prove what we experienced."

You didn't say anything on how she kept your hand in hers. You liked the feeling of having her soft small hands holding yours.

"Well seeing as we're still strangers. hi my name is Y/n, a pleasure to meet you."

"Jenna Ortega. The pleasure is all mine."

***

In separate universes, six woman gasped awake. Breathing heavily as tears streamed down their cheeks. The agony that they had to relive was almost too much. As they cried softly to themselves, a noise coming from their side had them snapping their heads to the noise. Only to see their own version of Y/n. Their cries of relief were muffled as they took y/n in.

Sleeping soundly next to them.

Alive.

It had felt so real.

Y/n had survived the attack of those crazy old people.

Y/n had survived vicious beating of those drug dealers. The sound of the gun shot had hit the cabinet door behind her.

Y/n had survived the school shooting. Barely making it.

Y/n had survived the poisonous bullets.

Y/n had survived the psycho that was Jonathan Miller. Finding a way to be with Cairo.

Y/n had survived the ghostface attacks. Working to repair the broken trust with Tara.

You had survived.

:)

[burningcheese-merchant]

PLEASE MERCHANT LISTEN TO ME

I started watching Burning Spice Cookie's flashback in the game and suddenly I started thinking "is that all? How stupid" because there are characters older than him and who apparently haven't had this problem of "boredom from "same old thing" so he leaves the Burning Spice Cookie thing as childish. but then I started thinking, what if I developed this? You see, if a person doesn't have a proper childhood they can develop psychopathic traits (more or less what I've seen in Burning Spice Cookie) so what if he and the other Beasts didn't have childhoods? We are not given any clue that they have grown, which gives us to understand that they appeared among the common cookies as adults.

Imagine that you barely have time to know your own name and suddenly you are thrown into... (I don't know, a battle?) expecting you to help calm everything down. What if, as soon as Burning Spice Cookie was born, he began to be burdened with many responsibilities and having to fight to unify Beast-Yeast into one nation? It would be a good reason why he "got bored" with everything, since some psychopaths have that trait of enjoying causing harm or hating monotony and social rules (it could also be an explanation for your au's Burning Spice Cookie).

I am SO glad someone else sees the problem with Burning Spice's "boredom". We have a million immortal characters in this universe and not a single one has had this issue with their lives. The Ancients live forever thanks to the Soul Jam, and they don't seem bothered by it at all (hell, look at Golden Cheese. She is actively pursuing immortality, for herself and especially for her loved ones). The Elementals are immortal, and they have zero complaints about it. Millennial Tree and Sugar Swan are older than the world itself, do you see them crying about it? Nope. They live and carry out their duties happily. You don't even see this with the ones that actually WERE mortal once. Fire Spirit? He loves who he is now, he's said so out loud in cutscenes in Ovenbreak. Sherbet? Though he misses being with Cotton, he otherwise loves being free to travel and see the world almost entirely unburdened, the way he always dreamed. Frost Queen? She adopted her role and upholds the balance of nature with grace. Life and immortality are only what YOU make of them. The Beasts are a bunch of stupid, selfish babies. The end.

"Not having a childhood" IS an interesting point to raise, though. You're absolutely right: having a tumultuous youth can and often does lead to psychological issues of all kinds, big and small ask me how I know lol. And for all we really know, they WERE born adults right from the jump. How Cookies are born and how they age are SUPER weird in this series and neither is ever explained properly besides "baked in oven", so... What's keeping anyone from imagining characters just born fully grown right away?

With this in mind, and with the points you've raised, we can maybe look at the Beasts like this: people who were brought into the world without being asked (although no one is), and burdened with nigh-impossible responsibility right away. Immediately told to sacrifice themselves for people they do not know or care about, who do not know them or care about them. To uphold a balance they may not understand, nor did they create themselves. Never having been allowed the chance to live and grow as all sapient beings are entitled to; to go out and have fun and be foolish and make mistakes that they end up learning from. They were born abnormal, and they never never allowed to escape that abnormality once. They live only for others, never for themselves, not even for small things. One has to wonder if they even counted as people at all in the eyes of those they fought for, or if they were just archetypes whose faces and actions were used to placate and justify whatever anyone wanted them to.

... Yeah, that sounds pretty shitty when you put it that way lol. It just goes to show how the Ancients are the true rightful owners of the Soul Jam, in my opinion. They EARNED that power, it was not given to them on a silver platter. They were able to live life as regular mortals for a while, then actively sought out that power and proved themselves worthy of it. Hollyberry united an entire region of warring houses. Dark Cacao tamed dragons and brought peace to a long-devastated land. Pure Vanilla endured the many arduous trials of the Sugar-Free Road in pursuit of truth and enlightenment. These are all things that require hard work, dedication, humility, and a certain wisdom that you gain from experiencing life in general. Wisdom that the Beasts may or may not have possessed, because they may or may not have ever been able to attain it in the first place.

As for my Yandere AU Spice... Yandere Spice is well and truly a psychopath (all the Yandere Beasts are). It's the thing you see often with actual stalkers: he's more in love with the IDEA of Golden Cheese than the woman herself, as she actually exists. It's all about what HE wants, what HE needs, what HE expects from her. Pure, utter selfishness, projection and delusion, as psychopaths are fundamentally incapable of empathizing with others (that's what marks them as psychopaths in the first place). With the Accidental Yandere Golden Cheese one, he's the same, but A) leaning a bit more into his bloodlust/enjoyment of harming others (which is also common in psychopaths, like you said), and B) him actually being clever/manipulative enough (at least to some degree) to know how to play into Golden's wants and feed her ego in order to sway her (Golden in this AU is also just kind of a fucked up person on her own, independent of Spice, so it's an unlucky combination). She's not "boring" like everything and everyone else is. She captivates him, she surprises him, she keeps him on his toes. He "loves" her. Therefore, he owns her and vice versa, and he will do whatever it takes to have her all to himself, up to and including hurting and killing innocents (it's not like they mattered, anyway). What caused him to be this way ultimately does not matter; maybe it's that overwhelming burden of responsibility and lack of a choice or a chance to live life that we addressed earlier. Perhaps he was just born broken. Whatever it is, he's a bloodthirsty, selfish, uncaring monster and it is Golden Cheese that he has chosen to make pay for it, unfortunately.

TL;DR Not liking immortality is a skill issue. The Beasts are dumb little crybabies. Yandere Spice is disgusting and should face a wall. I like writing deranged people far too much. I enjoy engaging in meaningful conversation with others about things. Thank you for the ask, I vibe with your thoughts and ideas, I hope you find lots of money on the ground today

[thesilvertheorist]

• unprofessional •

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Fic summary: [set in s4] Five is forced to go into mandatory active therapy in order to ensure that he can perform well at the CIA, he finds himself opposite a young lady (21+ ish) who's taken him on as her first client. Five is resistant at first but soon begins to develop ALL kinds of feelings for this woman.

Warnings/tags: ptsd related traumas, flashbacks, self harm, self loathing, resistance to help, attitude, scandalous age gap (five is mentally 60+, body of a 21 year old), developing feelings, inappropriate relationship, unprofessional relationship, anguish, angst, sexually explicit content, mdni, stalker!five, reader should really contact the authorities in all honesty.

you have been warned

Masterlist

CHAPTER THREE

[12k words]

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Five felt his own breath catch and suffocate him inside his lungs. He dared not move for fear of ruining the agonisingly tense, teasing spell she was casting over him…he finally found himself to be a willing victim. All this time he had spent roaming the earth and various differing timelines, imposing himself on others and ensuring they knew that it was his way or the highway seemingly fell silent under his own will to submit to her. This time, he was being imposed on, on someone else’s highway – and better yet, he wasn’t even driving, she was.

Five snapped himself back to reality when his lungs finally opened and swallowed a breath larger than he expected. Fucking hell, he’d just been caught red handed in her office, palming himself through the expensive fabric of his trousers, and she wanted him to keep going. It took all Five had not to cum in his boxers then and there. She had given him permission to do something so vile and revoltingly invasive…and she’d done it with such a soft smile that seemed genuine and welcoming. Those lightly painted lips of hers instructing him to surrender himself were all too alluring and surely couldn’t be real. Yet, here she was, plain as day and holding his hand in her own – pulse against pulse…beckoning him to continue offending her.

Fuck.

He didn’t move, not even an inch. He couldn’t. He just locked her gaze and felt her hand in his own, relishing in some human contact that wasn’t a bloody fistfight. Five had all but forgotten that humans could hold each other so softly, so gently, and with such kindness. He never wanted to let go.

She must have noticed his fawned expression; she was softly squeezing his hand whilst slowly undoing his belt for him, freeing him from two prisons with one single action. One physical and cotton bound, one mental and trauma bound…

“Do you want to keep going, Five?” she asked, her expression calming from something so sultry to an expression which carried much more care.

Five took a moment before realising that she probably needed some sort of response, some sort of indication that he was actually into this and didn’t want to bolt again. He needed to assure her that this was all he’d actually been yearning for. He wanted her, and now she was here, checking on him. Fuck, he needed to say something.

He managed to force the muscles in his spine and neck enough to nod, feeling his eyelids droop heavy and his mind fall heavier. She didn’t seem content with his pathetic response though.

“Words, Five. You know I need you to say it.”

Her words were calm yet firm, forcing Five to open his mouth and say something, to agree to crumbling beneath her as he knew he would…to agree to showing her this – showing her him.

“Y-yes, I want this…please-” he managed to choke out, feeling his voice break upon airing the first syllable.

“That’s it. Very good, Five. Aren’t you just so good when you behave, hm?”

This was infuriating… she was right. He was behaving…and it did feel good…and he was being good…and he was behaving…and it felt good…and he was behaving…and he was being good…because he was behaving…he felt good because he was behaving…he felt good because he was behaving…he felt good because he was behaving…

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiiiit…

…this felt too good and she hadn’t even started yet.

“Okay, Five, here’s how this is going to go…I’m going to give you very specific instructions… and you’re going to be really good for me and do exactly as you’re told…sound good?”

Five felt himself fall deeper and deeper into the cloudy fog of her presence with each word she spoke to him. How on earth could she expect him to focus enough to listen when she’d already reduced his brain to a useless pile of grey matter? She was asking too much of him – but oh, did he want to impress her… to show her that he was strong and good…worthy of her praise.

“Mhm,” Five began in response, “sounds perfect- please, tell me what to do”

He could do this, he could show her that he wasn’t broken, that he didn’t need her stupid therapy for emotionally stunted sexual deviants. He was going to prove to her that he was capable of beating her at her own game. She’d never expect him to listen, never expect obedience out of him… not him, so that’s what he hit her with.

He didn’t realise he’d actually enjoy it though…

“Let me see you, I need to know what I’m working with.”

Five’s hand flew from where she was holding it, freeing himself from the last tethers of below-the-belt clothing he needed to before she could see him spring up. He felt the cold air pinch at his engorged tip as he tucked his waistbands under his thighs to keep them in place.

She gestured to his vest and crisp dress shirt. Those too? That was fine, he could call her bluff…and he did. He unbuttoned them both but left them on his shoulders, giving him some semblance of modesty in this exceedingly whorish position she had him in. His tie was still tight around his shirt collar, he hadn’t been instructed to remove it – so he didn’t…even if it did feel as though it were choking the fight out of him, forcing him further under her whether he was conscious of it or not.

She leaned back a little from her spot on the coffee table, adjusting her legs and crossing one over the other, leaning forwards towards him again once she’d ensured to give him a pervy preview of her tits in that ridiculously tight fitted blouse. She was drinking him in, not touching him…watching intently as his cock stood proud against the pinching air of her draughty office…as his nipples hardened under the same ridicule…

He swore he saw her take mental notes. Cataloguing him in her meticulously organised therapist brain under ‘filthy, free-use whore’. He was nothing more than a porno mag to her; his pages ruffled and ruined, some desecrated in dried cum and others stuck together – hiding his vulnerability from her. His beauty positioned exactly as she wanted so she could snap images of him for herself, mounting them on the walls of her psyche.

“Well, aren’t we excited? Enjoying yourself?”

“Obviously-”

“Ah- less of the backchat. Good boys listen. Now, stroke yourself for me…nice and slow…that’s it, good boy. Base to tip. Just like that. Keep going for me. Let me watch you.”

Five followed her instructions as she demanded. He took himself in hand and began to stroke himself base to tip in long, slow strokes, twisting his wrist on each upstroke to demonstrate his talent. He felt himself pulse against his own hand. Felt his cock get angrier as it pleaded for more. Unyielding, Five remained doing exactly and only what she’d told him.

Slowly…

..,base to tip…

……let her watch.

She watched him like this for what seemed like an eternity. Five only realised that time was passing as his hand grew tired and cramped along with the aching call from his cock for something more.

“Need more, Five?”

“Mhm,” He nodded back to her, holding her hazy gaze as he had since he sat down, “need it.”

“Speed up for me, perfect. So good for me. Feeling good?”

Why did she need to know if he was still feeling good? Surely she could fucking see that from the dire state of his prick and his oh so snappy temper. His enjoyment should have meant nothing to her in this moment; she was treating him like a puppet, his strings tied in knots from her honeyed voice and fraying from her relentless teasing. Yer, he still managed to be pulled by them, by her. Her wishes were his to grant and her demands were his to meet. So much so, that Five began to feel possessive over this moment, over having her here like this. He’d allowed her this amount of control, and he was well aware that he could withdraw it from her at any second and take the upper hand by force – only, he didn’t want to. He only allowed a breathy ‘yes’ to leave his lips in response.

Five wanted to feel small, powerless, and used. He craved the feeling of relinquishing that detrimentally heavy, demanding boulder of expectational control he carried over every situation. He longed for someone else to take the weight off his shoulders and allow him a moment to breathe, to offer him instruction as opposed to the time-crunched hell of anxiety ridden, self-imposed insistence of his own expectations.

She offered him exactly that, and he accepted her help.

The heaviness of Five’s balls and the overwhelming burn in his cock were familiar signs of an imminent and unstoppable release of his pent up whatever-the -fuck was going on inside him. He felt the need to alert her so she could move back a little. His instincts were crying out at him to shower her in his cum, to mark her as his, dishevel her good image and disgrace her reputation…he wanted to…but he wanted to listen more.

Pulling himself together for only a millisecond, Five managed to bid his vocal cords and tongue to move and voice his upcoming explosion, hoping and praying to any and all deities that she wouldn’t tell him to stop.

“Close-”

“Okay, Five. Listen carefully. Make yourself feel good, I want to see you come fully undone. Don’t rush it, just spill for me, relax.”

He did as she asked, even if it was plain old torture to do so – and it was. He’d usually have cum four times by now if it were up to him, dragging it out felt hellish. Regardless, he followed her instructions. He focused his attention more towards his tip and began to neglect his length, knowing he felt a torturous relief around the sensitivity of his glans. Swirling his fist over his tip sent him reeling and the protruding muscles and veins in his neck pushed against the cage of his top button and tie, collaring him in his own dresswear.

Feeling himself twitch in his hand, Five met her gaze again and felt himself inhale sharply, his mouth dropping agape. He put himself on display for her, leaning into the imagery of being her x-rated programme.

Her tongue slightly darted over her painted lips before she bit down on the lower one, leaning forward to hover just over and between Five’s manspread knees, her eyes locked on his as her elbows pushed her cleavage together…which he could now catch out of the corner of his eye…oh fuck…when had she undone that button?

Five came hard, shooting into the air as his body convulsed and his highly-strung nerves finally snapped. He felt reams of cum release from his rigid prison, landing on his belly and abdomen. One splodge of his incriminating evidence landed on the leather of her chair, damning it along with him as the debauched stage for his tragic undoing.

His hand didn’t stop as he came, he made himself feel good as she’d said. He pushed and pushed his pleasure until whiny gasps and pathetic whimpers fell from his lips, pleasure on the edge of pain, his ears filling with water as his eyes followed suit. That’s when she stopped him, her hand reaching over his just before he inflicted any of that pain onto himself.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” She whispered over to him empathetically.

He deserved it though…he deserved to feel hurt. It was the price of pleasure; pain. He felt so good only a moment ago, better than he had felt in years and she was telling him that there was to be no retribution for that. Five didn’t understand what she was getting at as he finally hid his eyes from her and allowed his salty tears to spill down his flushed cheeks.

She engulfed him, leaping forwards, covering him in care and blanketing him with a welcoming hug as he cried. She let him hide himself in her shoulder and bury himself into the fabric of one, very sexually confusing, blouse. The once sensual item now providing him an oasis to drown his sorrows into. The duality of her sent Five reeling once again, lost inside his head.

She didn’t stop him though, never hurried him through it, never forcing him to regain his composure. She just held him there. Entirely unstartled when Five’s pathetic, half-hearted and scared swatting turned into grasping at her for dear life. She was immovable. There. He clung to her, finally accepting a reality that was tangible.

 “It’s okay, I’ve got you…” she began as she traced her fingers under his tie to loosen it along with his damned top button, the air returning to his lungs was something Five was familiar with around her by now – but this felt different, “I’ve got you, Five. You did so well. I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay? I’m not angry with you.”

She wasn’t angry with him. She didn’t hate him. All this and she still didn’t hate him? Five had absolutely no clue what to do other than steer into her skid. He felt himself lean into her more as his heaving began to slow and his tears dried. She ensured not to let go first, holding him for as long as he needed to be held. Her heartbeat setting the pace for his own. A tuning fork for the petulant ringing in his ears.

Five’s senses did eventually come back to him; only through the warm embrace of her words and gentle affirmations of pride and care. Five relished in her feeling, feeling wholly undeserving of whatever she was treating him with. She had no idea what she was in for when it came to him, none. Clearly, he wasn’t her regular kind of client. She needed to run fast and run far – away from the hellscape of his emotional range and subsequent lack of growth. Yet, her insolent and arrogant self only stayed at his side, stubborn and boarish – thinking she knew best. She needed a reality check.

Five managed to pry his face from her shoulder once he regained control of his breathing, avoiding her eyes altogether, turning his face in any other direction than her. She wasn’t offput by this, following his movements ever so slightly and insisting she remained in his space. After all, he still hadn’t let go.

“I’m sorry, I should really go…”

“It’s okay to stay, Five. Do you really want to leave?”

“No, yes - hell if I know what I want! It’s not right, I’m not right!”

Five’s snappy words and harsher demeanour still hadn’t put her off; neither of their hands moved to let the other go, his fearmongering tactics weren’t working…

“I dispute those statements but I’ll put a pin in them for now,” she sighed, swiping Five’s hair from his eyes once again, finally meeting his gaze once more, “I’ll make this simpler for you. If you’d like to leave, forget this ever happened, and transfer to a new therapist the same second you step out of this office – let me go. If not, don’t. There’s no expectation of you either way.”

Five remained still. He’d heard her, and he remained still.

“Staying here?”

“If that’s okay?”

She didn’t reply immediately, she just pulled him back into her embrace and allowed him to breathe in her perfume. Once intoxicating and suffocating – now welcoming and as necessary to him as oxygen.

“Of course that’s okay.” She whispered.

It wasn’t long before her laptop pinged over in the corner, it was an alarm of some sort, a notification perhaps. Five didn’t care what it was but he was truly hurt to know that it meant their time together today was over. Her lunch break had nearly ended and he needed to fit himself back into his trousers before making himself scarce.

She assured him that he didn’t need to feel ashamed about what had happened here today. She even helped him back into his clothes, repositioning his tie, leaving it a touch looser than before. Before Five stood, she made her way over to her desk and wrote something down on a blank notecard, slipping it into Five’s blazer pocket.

“Just in case.”

After a final check over Five’s appearance, she unlocked and opened the door for him to leave, though still not forcing him out the door. They would continue their normal appointments, and now Five could see her on her lunch break – he was content with those facts. He stepped over the threshold with a grateful glance over at her, thanking her wordlessly for the time she’d allowed him today. She smiled back and watched as he turned the corridor corner on his way back to the lifts.

He didn’t have to hide in stairwells now.

She had fed the stray, knowing he’d be back for more.

As Five stepped away, he noticed that he felt content enough to step into the lift alone this time. He didn’t feel that same anxiety-fuelled suffocation that he usually did. As he descended the floors back to the foyer, he couldn’t help but notice his own ease. Only a few minutes ago he was having a nervous breakdown with someone he’d essentially committed a crime against…and she’d comforted him…and it worked.

Stepping outside of the main building and getting some fresh air gave Five a moment of contemplation. The hustle and bustle of life wasn’t irritating him as much as usual – his usually boiling blood cooling down to a gentle simmer. This was comfort; relaxation.

The realisation of this comfort didn’t fill Five with as much dread as he initially considered that it might, though it did rush his veins full of a mild enough confusion that he began to bite a little at his nails and pick at his hangnails for the remainder of his shift. He felt utterly weirded out that he was still experiencing her comfort, even though the event of his emotional plunge had ended. He couldn’t even smell her, but he could feel her energy, like a warm-weighted blanket given to traumatised rescue animals in shelters.

The thought of being her rescue didn’t scare Five…

…it enlightened him.

It gave him the strength to finish his shift instead of bolting. She’d unlocked his tenacity, his resilience that was so downtrodden after yet another timeline reset, she brought the shine back to his shaggy (and somewhat ill maintained) coat.

The end of the day unfortunately brought Five’s usual nerves back to him after dealing with his other colleagues and filing his report on the case he’d almost forgotten about, he was left all alone with his thoughts – knowing her work day was soon to be over and she was soon to be no longer around. He deemed it too much of an imposition to follow her around again after she’d shown him so much kindness, so he just watched the clock on his office wall as the final few minutes of her day concluded.

He imagined himself waiting downstairs for her, clocking their ID’s out together, and walking the same way home…but he didn’t quite recognise the direction. It wasn’t to his place, or to hers, they were heading somewhere new.

Only, they weren’t, because Five was stuck sulking in his office because his pathetically short social battery had already run out despite having been completely charged at lunch. He began to recall their entire interaction today: how she’d caught him, teased him, encouraged him, and then held him through one of the worst emotional dips he’d ever experienced…and how she’d slipped a note into his blazer pocket!

Thank fuck.

Five wasted no time in pulling the note from his inside pocket, reading the writing on the embossed card.

It was her address, and at the bottom she’d written ‘just in case’.

Five’s jaw went slightly slack as he began to finally realise the depth of her infuriating cleverness. This little notecard gave Five coordinates to set as his centre. A safehaven. A place of sanctuary…and, best of all, it gave him the opportunity to use this at his discretion. Perhaps she wasn’t such of a control freak after all…

His own sense of self control began to return to him as Five decided not to act on this card tonight. The door was unlocked and open for him, though he didn’t need to step through it just yet. He wouldn’t force himself into her space and hand himself over just like that. No, he thought it best to see her more first, to get comfortable with her scheduled absence. So he did.

He went home alone that night, contented. He had a shower, had a small meal with whatever the hell hanging around his kitchen cupboards, and finally managed to steal more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep for the first time in what felt like centuries.

Five visited her office every week as scheduled for their appointments, where in which they had their standoffish (and mostly redundant) admin-bound check in with one another to prove Five’s sanity after collecting their coffees from the foyer café and sharing a lift ride for seven anticipatory floors.

Though…

…the two met in her office each lunch-break…five days a week…for something much more therapeutic than one measly and mandatory hour a week.

Five was at her mercy like this, and that freed him. He valued the way she kept him in line and handled the heavy shit with him as opposed to for him. In this hour, they were equals, a willed push and pull keeping them both fluid and open to one another.

She would handle his avoidant issues with healthy attachment and correct his temper with an edged discipline that only servicemen truly recognise. She gave him release in every way – only, she wouldn’t touch him, and it was driving him insane.

She would rile him up and open his heart (and his pants) just to talk him through it each time, only touching him when his high hormones fell into despair and shame. She was surely reinforcing that her touch was one of aid and not one of torture, though Five began to fear that this very curved thought was coming full circle.

One Friday lunchtime held the catalyst. Their routine was set and Five was in her chair again, their Monday positions paralleled. Five was no less the subject, even if he was sat in her physical position of command. It buzzed his senses to realise that her control was not bound in the leather of that chair, not held together by the meticulous stitching, seemingly allowing for multiple stages to be presented all at once. The duality of a mundane leather chair, the chair they shared, the chair she utilised quickly evolved into the duality of her. 

Five was sat where she usually berates him, trousers round his ankles, shirt open all save for his top button and tie, hand on his cock, praises ringing in his ears as he meets her demands – the usual. His uniquely prescribed kinaesthetic therapy, doctors’ orders. She had her rescue dog working for her once again, earning his keep. Collared and panting. Jumping and humping for treats. Performing tricks. Earning praise.

“Aren’t you just so well behaved today? Making me so proud.”

Five hadn’t neglected to notice that she had increased her praise and affections as time went on and their lunchtime encounters became more relaxed, more reliable. It was clear that she’d grown truly fond of him and not only in his state of undress and dishevelment…she smiled at him in passing, saved space for him in the lift, backed him up in meetings with his superiors. She liked him.

The shock and abject horror of a knock at her locked office door punched the air out of Five’s lungs once again…in the worst way possible…after he’d only just re-learned how to breathe freely. Five felt terror run through him and seize his muscles. His eyes wide and his heaving manic, he searched between the door and her for answers – for what to do. Their safe space had been disturbed and was soon to be invaded if she unlocked the door.

She reached for him.

She actually touched him.

Cupping his face in one hand, pulling his hand away from his dick gently with the other, leaning her forehead against his. Care. Though, it wasn’t enough; just as her comfort had began to blanket him once again, another ripping knock reverberated in his ears – drying up her honey. Five was spiralling. No help in sight with the consistent onslaught of whoever the hell decided to ruin his one place of true solace.

“Let me handle it, stay put for me,”  she began, lifting his trousers for him, urging him to get the point, “I’m not leaving you, I’m still here.” Were the words she uttered before standing straight again and telling the dickhead on the opposite side of the door that this was her lunch break and if they needed her, they were to wait another twenty-six minutes for her to become available, no sooner. Ending her rant with a harsh ‘get lost’.

Five appreciated her defending this space as she did, he could hear the arsehole feign an apology and retreat away from the door, leaving what they presumed to be just her in peace as she ate her lunch. However, the damage had already been done, and it felt irreparable.

Buckling himself back in and doing his buttons back up, Five insisted that he had to go. He had to leave. Had to bolt.  Even though their threshold was never crossed, it came all too close to being discovered. He knew all too well that the best things never last long if they’re discovered; they get raped of their exclusivity and safety. This space was still theirs but, this was too close of a call for Five to ignore. If she’d have been caught seducing one of her clients, her life would be ruined. She was too young for that, too kind. He couldn’t allow that to happen, especially not because of him. So he straightened himself up, and ran.

He ran straight home, trapping himself in. Caging himself inside. A useless mutt like him belonged in isolation, deserved to run away and die hungry – after all, that was the story of his life. He slumped against the back of his locked door, hoping as though somehow it may absorb him and make his existence redundant. He didn’t make it more than two hours into this obscene self-isolation before he heard a light knock above his head. One notably much softer than the one he’d been shot with earlier.

He never cared to make friends with neighbours so this came as a surprise, though all became clear when honey began to seep through the cracks in the varnished wood, seeping past the lock and key, straight back into his ears – drowning out his fears.

“Five? It’s me, I know you’re there…” she waited for him to respond, but Five couldn’t mutter a sound for fear she’d stop speaking, “You don’t have to let me in, I just came to check on you.”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuckshitfuck.

She’d come to check on him…come to his rescue…to bring him out of this…and she meant it.

Five felt the door shift as she slid down the other side of it, the two of them now back to back kept apart by a cheap wooden door – a threshold. She wasn’t pressing him for answers, but she must have known he was listening to her; she just spoke to him and shared the boundary, shared the space. She spoke about how sorry she was that she got him into this and that she put him in that position. She explained that she’d have been with him earlier but she had to find his address, along with signing him out for a ‘medical day’ as not to get him in trouble with the higher up��s. She’d done her best by him, done as much damage control as humanly possible…and now she was here, apologising for having upset him and telling him that he never had to speak to her again if he didn’t want to.

He must have spent half an hour listening to her. Not replying. Just listening. Bathing in her. Accepting her presence. Controlling his anger over her sorrow. She was not at fault for him feeling this way or isolating; he was terrible for her and she deserved someone much less complicated to deal with. His fists tightened as she apologised, wondering if his larynx might actually permit him to oppose her…it didn’t.

He sat there, in cowardice, letting her take the blame for doing everything perfectly and handling this with such grace.  She couldn’t have done anything more for him, and yet here she was, doing just that.

His world shattered when she slid a piece of paper through the letterbox, asking him if he would read it and telling him that if he signed it and passed it back through, she’d submit it and he’d never have to see her at work again. She’d given him the option of a transfer. She’d given him the option of losing her forever. The worst thing was, she was going to handle it for him if he agreed; her final act ever concerning him would be one of care and service…for his comfort.

He didn’t sign the form.

She didn’t seem to mind though, his lack of response was something she was very well acquainted with. She knew what that meant…or he hoped she did.

“Okay, well, you know where to find me if you need me.”

‘just in case’

She moved a moment later,  her weight lifting off the back of the door as she stood, shaking Five’s foundations yet again. Untethered. Lost. Unbalanced. He listened as her kitten heels made small clicks against the floor of the hallway outside, grateful that he could still hear them. He dreaded them fading into silence as she took herself home.

Five couldn’t stand as she did, only feeling himself reach to grasp the door handle from where he was sat, forgetting that he’d locked the bastard thing behind him when he returned home. Defeated, he sat there wallowing in his own agony as he did hear those kitten clicks drift away…ticking like seconds, a countdown to his demise.

He let himself feel it, let himself taste the despair and revel in the separation, allowing her to fade into a nothingness. He didn’t manage to stop her leaving. He wouldn’t have wanted to influence that decision for her. Though, he was outwardly reaching for her and that was something he just couldn’t give up.

So, he got up.

He willed his legs to lift themselves, forced his knees to shift his weight as he demanded that his spine hold him upright. He stood facing the door, hand on the lock, for what felt like an eternity and yet no time at all. His blood had almost stopped in his veins and he was on the verge of cardiac arrest when he felt a tear drop down his face…and he unlocked the door, springing after her.

Five had never resembled newborn Bambi as much in his entire life totalled together as he did in that moment, if he were to play the moment back he’s sure he’d be humbled by his comedic scrambling and falling over his own feet. All the moment called for was for him to trip and fall flat on his face before reaching the lift, though he did manage to save himself that particular embarrassment.

His eyes burned and his throat tightened as his body fought through cries to push him forward, converting his all-encompassing angst into pure, forward-moving, kinaesthetic energy. He’s only ever felt this type of need to move once before…and that was back in the barn. Only, now he couldn’t blink. He was at the mercy of his own humanity. This desperation felt the same on his nerves as he loathed his frazzled endings into reforming themselves into some semblance of working team.

The lift didn’t arrive quickly enough; she’d taken it down. Five decided that the stairs were the better option, thinking perhaps he could intercept her on her way out of his shitty apartment complex. He couldn’t move quick enough, the lack of powers spiting him increasingly as the detrimental moments slipped past him. Practically falling down the stairs, Five reached the outer door of the complex realising that he’d just missed her. Following her outside, he knew which way she’d be headed. He knew her route home from here, two underground trains and a short walk. He had time to gain on her.

Or, he thought he did.

Rushes of people began to slow him down, traffic lights and crossings adding to his infuriation with the human race and their stifling urban jungles. He missed her by a hair at every step, seeing her board a train that drove off just before he could reach the doors, shouting after her despite knowing she couldn’t hear him from that distance. There were no alternate routes to get to her connecting train…Five needed a new idea. He reached inside his blazer pocket – ‘just in case’ had finally come.

Committing the address to memory, Five raced back outside of the station and got into a cab, angrily barking at the driver to take him straight there. This plan went swimmingly until they got caught in some sort of emergency pile up, the traffic went back miles. Oh, how the emergencies of others inconvenienced his own…could they really not have done this on a different day?

Throwing some screwed up notes at the driver, Five ran back on himself before realising how close to her address he actually was. He could probably beat her there at this rate. Pulling himself together once again, Five ran his little cantankerous heart out. His dried up tears causing his skin to feel tight against the air pushing past him. He was only a few moments away from her, she flashed in his brain with every step he took. Her stupid hair clip, her ridiculous shoes, her annoying perfume…her sickly, honey-like voice. He wanted those things for himself, and it’s well known that when Five Hargreeves wants something, he’s going to get it. No two ways about it.

He reached her door with adrenaline clouding his judgement. This was such a stupid thing to be doing. She’s not his…but oh, was he hers. Her neighbourhood was nicer than his, she lived in an apartment the same as him, but she was much more distinguished with her upstairs flat in a converted townhouse as opposed to his cheap-arse, dingy, murder complex that he gets on the cheap.

He saw her light turn on upstairs, likely her living room light. She’d just got back. Five didn’t know what to do other than knock on the outside door hoping that her downstairs neighbour might let him in. No one answered. He grabbed pebbles from her neighbours gravel garden, pelting them against her window with the force of an Olympic javelin competitor, cracking the upper corner in the process.

It worked, she answered.

Opening the window he’d just cracked, she looked around steaming with an irritation Five hadn’t yet seen from her.

“Five?! What the hell? I have a doorbell, you know!”

Oh yeah, doorbell.

Dickhead.

“I have to talk to you!”

“Yeah, I gathered that! Hang on-”

Five waited patiently as she came down the stairs and unlocked the outer door for him to enter through, his irritation matched hers as she seemingly took years to make her way down. He blatantly ignored the irony of his initial rush and her then apparent laziness. Eventually, she opened the door, stepping aside a little to let him in – as if her being stood there would have stopped him from entering, which it most certainly would not have done.

He ascended the stairs without even sparing her a glance, adjusting his hair on the walk up to her flat, huffing ever so kindly about her under his breath. He didn’t even wait for her to enter her flat first, he just barged in and stood in the entryway waiting for her to get her frustratingly alluring behind inside. She followed him tentatively, likely wondering if he was going to break something else if she eased her attention on him for even a second. Her eyes never held condescension or belittlement over him though, she looked at him with the same care as she always had, even in their most deliciously deviant moments – that care never seemed to change…and, it was absolutely not a look one would bestow upon a client of theirs.

He had her, hook, line, and sinker…

…but she had him first.

Five closed her door gently behind her as she stepped into the flat. His energy dissipating with every passing second. His outrageous attitude for himself was the only thing keeping him upright; he could have just fallen into her when he laid eyes on her again, had her hold him as he fell into something other than complete despair for once. He wasn’t entirely sure what being held would feel like, but he yearned for it nonetheless.

“What was it you wanted to tell me, Five?”

Running his hand through his sweaty hair, Five had apparently lost all semblance of sentence structures and phonemes because he couldn’t utter a single word in response. What did he want to say to her? He couldn’t remember. Her comfort was already consuming him – his previous panic-fuelled marathon closing off behind him. That’s how he remembered, he couldn’t be away from her. That’s what he wanted to say.

“Why did you give me this form?”

“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me around work. I felt it easier to just give you a quiet exit if that’s what you wanted-”

“-It’s not what I want. Ever. Never be under that impression.”

“Oh, okay,” She smiled, “that could have been an email, you didn’t come all the way here for that did you?”

Fuck her.

Five scoffed and stepped further into her space, she didn’t back away though. She didn’t for a single second let him intimidate her away, or let his attitude consume her. She held her ground, firm but fair. He held the letter up slightly, gesturing to it.

“This,” he said as he wafted it closer to her, “is an abomination and a disgrace.”

“Mhm, seems so.”

“You do not speak for me, this form is an insult.”

“So much for the gentle approach, huh?” she smirked, matching his energy now, getting into his space, “You don’t have to sign it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be signing shit-paper.”

“It would appear not.”

“Why did you post this personally?”

“Duty of care, personal touch.”

“Surely even you aren’t blind to the irony of what you just said.”

“Well, Mr Hargreeves, it’s not my fault that you’re afraid of your own feelings. Far be it for me to leave you in pain.”

“I am not an injured bird, and for the last time, don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, did I hit a nerve, Bitch Boy? I never said you were.”

Five was losing it with this back and forth they had going on. He could feel his own tension build and his jaw clench with every irritating answer she gave him. ‘duty’, what utter horseshit. She knew it, and now – so did he.

“Y’know, it’s highly inappropriate for you to be here, especially in this state. You must have come with intention. Spill it.”

 “You already know.”

“Don’t just assume that. You doubt my intelligence daily – you’re doing it now. Spell it out for me won’t you? I’ll get my notebook.”

Five snapped, his tense patience pulled too tight and breaking clean in two. He closed the gap between them and kissed her, harsh. Though, he regretted his rough approach immediately; she was so gentle with him regardless of her words or his temper. She took all his brash energy and converted it into something so much softer. She absorbed him entirely.

Five struggled with where to put his hands, but luckily she was one step ahead of him, as she traced one hand through his hair, she took back that ridiculous form with the other, throwing it somewhere to the side of them both. She then led both his hands to her waist, allowing him to take hold of her as she had him.

Five had found gravity.

He soared and yet had such a strong tether that he felt comfortable in this new experience. This was nothing like he’d imagined it to be or like he’d experienced with Delores in the past. This was real. She was real…

…and she wanted him.

She led their kiss as Five’s frustration melted away under her touch. He was drinking her in as she gained entrance into his mouth, clashing their tongues together. He pulled her impossibly closer to him, begging silently for her to flush with him, become one. She complied and let her hands trace back up over his arms, over his shoulders, and under his blazer. Leaning back, she let Five catch his breath, asking one simple question in a tone no louder than a whisper:

“Are you sure?”

“God, yes,” he replied instantly, “take me.”

Without another word, she engulfed him again, tongues resuming as small whines of pleasure left Five’s throat. She pushed his blazer off his shoulders, freeing him from his first layer. Five was too focused on the magic happening inside his mouth (and his boxers) to pay attention to the layers he was losing. Before he knew it, she had his shirt undone and his tie loosened around his neck.

Something must have clicked in her brain that the entryway of her flat wasn’t the best place to do this because she led him with kisses all the way to her bedroom, careful not to trip on his discarded clothes en route. Five was only vaguely aware of the change of scenery until the edge of her plush bed met the back of his knees.  He wanted to fall on it and pull her down with him, directly on top of him, but she held his hips in place.

“Hang on, pretty boy, I want you to be comfortable,”  she said as she moved away from him to set up pillows against her headboard and ensured her sheets were straight, “lay back for me.”

Five did as he was asked, falling back onto her mattress with a ‘duf’, the only things keeping him awake now being the raging boner in his pants and his crippling desire not to miss a second of this. She leaned over him slightly as she began to undo his laces and remove his shoes, socks were next. She placed them both by the side of her bed. She looked him dead in the eye before unbuckling his belt, waiting for him to give her a slight nod, a confirmation of his ongoing want. He did just that, but it accompanied a whoreish whine and him gripping the sheets underneath him.

“Both, take them both off-”

“Okay, if you’re sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life, it fucking hurts.”

He wasn’t lying either; when she got his pants and boxers down after lifting his hips for him, she was faced with his cock. Rock hard, solid, leaky, and painfully red. He dripped precum onto his abdomen as he waited for her to faff around with whatever the hell she was doing. Probably folding his trousers knowing her. Regardless of how long she took, Five couldn’t rip his eyes open. He just laid there in growing anticipation, willing himself not to cum untouched.

When she came back to him, she crawled over him, Five’s hands finding their place once again on her hips…that were now bare save for her underwear. He inhaled and sighed out as he traced his hands up her waist, finding her skin smoother than he thought it would be. If ever there was any supporting evidence for the argument that she wasn’t a dragon or poisonous snake – this was it; her skin was too silky to have scales.

She didn’t stop him as he continued tracing his hands up her body, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and he felt her straddled him and let him find his way to her bra. That ripped his eyes open, causing him to let out a slightly startled moan at what he saw, finding her to be more gorgeous than that ridiculous blouse could ever do justice for.

Her cleavage sat pretty in her bra, and her necklaces hung off her in such a way it nearly hypnotised him. Hell, he knew she was hot but he didn’t quite grasp how hot. He looked at her from under his lashes and she nodded and allowed him to palm her over the cups of her work-bra. Five must have pulled his confidence out of his arsehole because after he’d had a good grope of her over the top of the offending article, he shimmied his hands underneath the wires and took her tits in hand fully, neglecting the sting of the unforgiving underwired scraping against his hands.

“Here,” she said, reaching behind herself to unclasp the wretched torture-device and let it fall off her shoulders – though, in this moment, it was only torturing Five, “better?”

Five didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He was utterly beholden to touching her. He felt the weight of each breast in his hand, massaging them as he felt his stresses melt away. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples. At first, he’d only caught a quick glance, but that led him to looking at them completely. A small, almost inaudible, giggle caught his attention as he realised he’d been subconsciously sticking his tongue further and further out the longer he stared at her chest.

Embarrassed, Five put his puppy-like tongue away and got too far into his head about acting like a small abandoned little mutt as opposed to the wolf he’d convinced himself she’d trapped in the first instance. She was soon to show him that all dogs could be domesticated with just a little encouragement.

“Go ahead,” she spoke gently, “no need to be shy, pretty boy.”

“Ohhhhmmmmmh-” Five moaned as he leant slightly forwards to take her left tit into his mouth, gliding his tongue across her nipple, relishing in her small sigh of relief at the contact.

Five swirled his tongue and sucked at her as if she were his very life essence. His own whines adding to the heat of the moment. He couldn’t stop the small moans of pleasure from escaping him and vibrating onto her as he latched further and further onto her, reluctant to let go, spit dribbling down his chin. She held the back of his head as he sucked and slightly nipped at her, moving his messed up bangs from his eyes as she combed her hands through his hair yet again.

Five didn’t even try to hide his pleasure, he felt his hips rut up as he tried desperately to drink her in. The warm air of her flat was ironically more unforgiving than that of his unheated one; it allowed his treacherous cock to get comfortable and prepare to offload – dangerous territory when you’re in bed with someone for the first time, especially when you’ve been pining for them for weeks.

Unfortunately his hips were met with nothing, he wasn’t given the opportunity to end this quicker than he wanted. He was rutting into air and that just wouldn’t cut it, not how he’d felt her. She was magnetising, she had him in clutch, ready to fling himself over the edge at the word go. Five craved this moment, and now he had it, and it was flooding his senses.

“Give me your hand, baby.”

He did as he was told without leaving her tit, he let her take his left hand in her right and lead him down to the hemline of her panties. She let him feel around and pull at handfuls of her arsecheeks. Five was bewildered at how firm she was, how perfectly shaped, how she fit his palms so well. He was getting impossibly harder and started to make a leaky mess all over his belly. He hadn’t cum yet, but he felt like he’d been edging himself for hours already. Only, he was at her disposal. She’d been edging him without even realising it.

She helped Five gather himself enough to hook his fingers under the band of her panies, pulling them about halfway down her arse before meeting the resistance of her open hips. She gently tapped Five’s head to have him release her tit from his warm mouth, a line of saliva lewdly connecting them both. He whined at the lack of contact as he fell back against the mattress and headboard, watching under lidded eyes as she lifted her weight fully onto her knees to remove her panties fully, a similar string of wetness following the telling wet spot on the fabric between her legs as it is removed from her cunt.

Five’s mouth was watering again. Oh, how badly he wanted for that slick to run down his chin, to coat his tongue and throat, to settle his dangerously anxious stomach. Though, she seemed to have other ideas as she took his left hand once again, letting him touch her, feel her wetness as he explores her folds.

Five all but combusted when he feels her slick beneath his fingers. His moan was loud this time, airy and desperate as his law slacked and his eyes fought not to roll into the back of his head. He followed her as she showed directed him wordlessly to her clit, rubbing in slow strokes and small, firm circles as she ground down onto his hand.

“Just like that, good boy.”

Her praise rang in his ears and he wanted nothing more than to have her spill that same sentence time and time again as she released more of this sweetness onto his hand. He lost himself in the movement as he watched her, she threw her head back and kneeled straight above him, entirely on display.

A goddess made flesh.

The next thing she did was straight out of some cheesy porno; she took her hairclip out and let her hair down, cascading down her like the waves of pleasure flowing through the both of them. What on earth had Five done in his life to deserve this honour?

She began to grind harder and harder against Five’s hand, forcing his long strokes on the outside of her pussy to go further and further to where Five’s limited theoretical sexual education told him her entrance would be. Did she want him in there?

“Inside, baby. Put them inside.”

She stilled so that he could position his hand as to access her hold without hurting her or adding to the potential of a hand cramp. Five tentatively felt around her hole with nervous fingers, her hand returned to offer him support as he began to push his middle finger inside her, seating it entirely as she clamped and clenched onto him – swallowing him. She’s the wolf.

“You’re doing so good, Five. Add another.” she breathed out, her eyes locking onto his as he carefully collected enough of her wetness on his fingers to enter into her smoothly.

She was truly all encompassing. She was so hot inside, scoldingly so.  Her walls were tight and responsive to every little movement Five made. Thanking his lucky stars, Five let out a sigh of relief when she began to fuck herself onto his hand in tune with the small movements he could muster up. She found her own rhythm and Five followed sit, matching it perfectly. The constant thrusting of his fingers inside him had a ghostly feeling mirror the same thing on his cock. It longed to be inside her and now was emulating the feeling of thrusting up into her. She was mind fucking him, with little mercy, in all respects.

“Please-” Five uttered, voice outrageously hoarse, “Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Please what, baby?”

“Take me…”

She lifted her hips off his hand, removing him from her wetness. Five wondered if he’d upset her by trying to hurry her along, though he was quickly pulled from this thinking when he felt her grasp his cock in hand, giving him a few teasing strokes before aiming his tip at her folds. Gathering slick along his length. Coating him. Preparing him. She leaned over him as he prodded at her entrance, kissing him softly as she began to seat herself along on his cock. Five broke their kiss to moan into her mouth, overwhelmed by the feeling of being enveloped by her warmth.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhfffffffffffuuuuuuuckkkkk”

Once seated and comfortable, she kept him there, still. Clenching. Tightening. Milking him. Five was a mess beneath her as the two shared air and saliva. He squirmed and writhed in pleasure, his senses alight. He had all of about a second of caught breath before she rocked her hips against him. His hands firmly planted on them, feigning themselves as guides, moreso just hanging on for the ride.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! Please please please- so good, so wet-”

“Mhm, you feel so good, baby. Feeling good?”

“Too good- am gonna-!”

How humiliating. All of thirty seconds inside her and he was already about to bust. She wasn’t helping him though; she didn’t stop her hips, she just kept going – letting him lose himself. Enabling it. Encouraging it. Catching his eyes again, she held his face as she gave him four very sacred words of permission.

“Let go for me.”

Five couldn’t stop his body, he couldn’t halt the pouring of cum as he spilled himself into her. His moans bordered on screams and fell silent in a deafened scream of pure pleasure. His hips finally sprung to life as he fucked his milky ropes further up into her sopping cunt. Mixing fluid. He came so much he felt it leak down his length and pool on his pelvis. He committed everything he could to memory before he lost his brain servers. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she tasted…the way she felt.

It all became too much for him and he all but passed out from the lightning shocking it’s way through his system. He wrapped his arms around her back, pulled her flush to him once again, and his face in her neck as he rode out his high, finding her to be the only thin tying him to reality.

She was so kind to him through it, too. She praised him to no end. Calling him her good boy, saying he was doing such a good job, making her feel so good, filling her up so well. It was in that moment that Five’s lack of brain servers actually gave him some enlightening clarity: she was no wolf, no hunter – she was a sanctuary.

She didn’t even rush him as he came down from his climax. No mention of disappointment in his embarrassingly early finish. Nothing. Only careful kisses and praise. Comfort.

Love.

Five was receiving love.

And he didn’t feel guilty about it.

Fuck.

Talk about bombshell.

She held him close until he caught his breath and his heart rate slowed. He moved his head back from her shoulders to reveal a tearstained face that he hadn’t even noticed was stinging until the air hit. He was crying…not because he was sad – but because he’d finally felt love.

She kissed away his tears and brushed his hair through for him once again, tracing his skin with love and covering him in an unwavering devotion. One that he didn’t feel he’d ever earned and yet would continue to lap up until his dying breath.  

“You did so well.”

“-m’sorry.” Five forced out, falling out of his headspace fast, worrying she’d hate him for his lack of reciprocation in her pleasure, “m’ so sorry, I didn’t mean to…so quickly…”

“Shhhh, baby. You did nothing wrong. I’m so pleased with you.”

Nothing else was said, but she held him increasingly close as he let tears fall onto her skin. She didn’t rush him, she just held him, keeping him safe and warm whilst he slowly softened inside her.

An indeterminable amount of time passed as Five let himself be comforted. He sat inside her as she kept him there. The intimacy grounding him, chasing away any lingering sense of insecurity or imbalance. Five had little idea what this meant for him, for them; they’d clearly crossed their professional boundaries and this wasn’t something he was likely to forget, nor did he want to forget it. It was clear to Five that, if he were to keep her, he’d have to surrender – in every aspect.

Willingly.

He was now no longer her willing victim but her willing counterpart.

Feeling her shift on top of him, Five wondered if she’d begun to regret this turn of events – hoping and praying that she wouldn’t evict him from the empathetic embrace (which closely resembled the benefits of a weighted blanket) they had tangled themselves in. To his comfort, he found that she was shifting in effort to lay down beside him…yet never forcibly removing his cock from inside her.

“Here, baby, let me get next to you.” She said softly as they both turned to the side, still linked together but in a position likely to be much more comfortable for her in the long run.

She had her leg hooked over Five’s hip so that he didn’t have to leave her warmth and though the comforting weight of her on top of him had shifted, he felt equally as comfortable in this new position, finding it easier to lean into her and come down from his rather dramatic emotional highs. He heard her whisper about getting some rest and that she’d still be here when he woke up. Although, it became apparent that he had absolutely no control over his body because as soon as those words left het lips, he was out like a light, not even responding to her.

He couldn’t have slept for too long because it was still dark when he opened his eyes. He was elated to notice that they were still in the same position as when he drifted off; she stuck to her word. She hadn’t left. She was still there.

“Hey,” she spoke gently, feeling Five stretch and shift as his servers came back online, “how’re you feeling?”

How was he feeling?

Rested? Comfortable? Happy for the first time in decades? All of the above.

“M’good. You?”

“Fantastic.” She shot back at him without even a hint of irony in her tone… she meant it.

“How long was I out?”

“Mmm a little over two hours, I think.”

Five simply hummed in response to her, snuggling deeper into her, nuzzling into her neck once again. She started to trace lines up and down his arms and back, letting out small giggles upon finding Five’s ticklish spots. Making constellations with the freckles that trickled down his shoulders and arms. Five could have stayed like this forever, could have stayed here forever – with her, however he’d become acutely aware of how they were still connected. He felt himself twitch inside of her and cursed himself for ruining such a pleasant moment.

To his surprise, she didn’t scold him. She pulled him in closer with her leg and ensured that he’d stay put. Yet, she didn’t seem to give any indication of wanting anything from him either. It appeared she was back to her ridiculous mixed messaging.

Memories of their earlier encounter came flooding back to Five as he hardened inside her. The heat flooding him once again. Visions of her teaching him, guiding him, finishing him came back like a pornographic highlights reel in his head. Oh, he wanted to do that again. To prove that he could last longer than all of a few pumps. To please her. That’s when he remembered the one thing he didn’t get to experience in their last encounter: tasting her.

As his blood began to boil back up and his mind lost more blood, he started kissing and nipping at her neck, neglecting to realise that he was leaving adorable little love bites along the way. He shifted slightly so that he could get at her tits once again, this time paying adequate attention to each one and being gentle with his biting tendencies. He noticed as her breathing quickened and her pussy clenched around him. He just couldn’t stop himself.

“You don’t have to-” she started, having realised his intentions

“-I want to…please- I’ll be good I swear.” He pleaded with her.

“Okay, baby. Go ahead.”

Her permission hit him like a truck and he almost came on command then and there, but he managed to get himself together enough to shift them so she was on her back, and he was kneeling between her legs – still connected. His hands were all over her, less nervous than before. He groped at her, loved up on her, and pleaded with her body as he made the harrowing realisation that he’d have to exit her warm cunt in order to taste it.

Finding that to be a hard but worthwhile decision, Five softly thrusted inside her a few times before leaving, both building the courage for the next event and satisfying his need for friction all at once as he warded off thoughts of remaining there for the rest of eternity.

He trailed wet kisses down her belly and pelvis as he positioned himself between her legs, feeling his dick get trapped between him and the bed, providing that damning friction he craved. Looking up at her, he silently asked for some guidance on how to please her, and he was met with her hands in his hair – reinforcing her love.

Five watched her face closely as he licked one long stripe up her cunt, delighting in how she arched her back and moaned at the contact he gave her, earning a moan from himself in return. He then took to lapping at her folds, tasting every inch of her and leaving nowhere unexplored by his tongue. Her hands tightened in his hair and forced a groan from his throat that he didn’t realise he was holding back. She guided him to where she wanted him most, making her clit the centre point of his devotion. Five latched onto it similarly to how he’d latched onto her tits, suckling like there was no tomorrow, as if his very life force depended on it…

…because it did…

……she tasted too good, he just couldn’t put his finger on what she tasted like – it was addicting.

Her pleasure was now his goal.

She locked her legs behind his neck and kept him in place as she began to grind on his mouth, relishing in the fact that even this couldn’t shut him up; he was arguably being louder than she was. The vibrations of his sweet moans send shockwaves up her spine that Five was proud to be the deliverer of. His own tension built and built inside his abdomen, finding that his hips were grinding on her bed the at the same pace in which she ground down against his tongue.

Five lost count of how many times he came during this.

He got more and more overstimulated with each climax he had, finding it impossible to tear his mouth away from her for even a second to tell her that he was cumming. She must have known; he was erratic.

Her own climax came shortly after this realisation. She kept Five in precisely the same placed, holding him there tightly, grinding down harder and stronger with every slick trace of his tongue against her. Five had no idea how to handle it, he was drowning. The only thing he thought he could do was bring his fingers up to enter her, working two digits immediately inside her, feeling her clamp down on them familiarly as she came undone above him.

“Ohhhh fuck, good boy, good boyyy. Fuck. Doing so well for me - just like that! Oh!”

She rode out her high for what seemed like forever, seemingly overstimulating herself with his mouth as his fingers worked on that soft spot inside her. Five would never admit that he actually lost his breath throughout this, finding this to be the only thing worthy of his wordlessness. Though, one thing was set to throw him over the edge yet again. As she released her hold on him and let him do as he pleased against her cunt, he made the gratifying mistake of removing his fingers and swallowing up the cum from inside her hole, realising that it was mixed cum. His and hers.

He came again, harder than any of the other times; this is what she tasted like...what they tasted like.

Honey and salt.

He must have blacked out from his climax because when he came to, she was fussing over him. Fanning him and checking him over.

“Oh thank- thought I’d lost you for a minute there, fucking hell.”

“Your fault…” he smiled back to her as she pulled him into another loving embrace. He couldn’t get enough of their closeness.  

“I’m sorry I pushed you too far.”

“God no, don’t apologise. That was…everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They sat together for a moment, enjoying the calmness of their combined company. Relaxing into each other. Floating on intimacy clouds. Nothing would ruin this moment for them, not even the traffic outside of her window or the chill in the air now that her central heating had automatically clicked off. A comfortable and contented silence set the tone, their breathing setting a melody, their heartbeats keeping them both in tune.

Five realised this is what he must have been after all along – closeness. A devotion so deep for another person that he cared deeply about their experience and their pleasure as opposed to purely his own selfish interests. He longed for love, yearned for connection, sought closeness…even if his methods were a little untoward and unorthodox. He couldn’t let go of this, of her.

He wouldn’t.

“What does this mean?” he whispered to her, fear stricken.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear that I cant just be your therapist.”

Five wondered what that meant, scared she thought this would be their last encounter. Was this all her saying goodbye? Was she going to leave him? After all this? He locked eyes with her, tears forming along his waterlines as he prepared himself to hear the worst…but he never heard it; she said something rather to the contrary.

“I care about you, more than our boundaries at work will allow for…but I want this to be your choice. I won’t force it on you.”

“Yes.”

“’Yes’ what?”

“I don’t really know what you’re going to ask me but…if you’re asking me if I’ll be yours – whatever that means – then the answer is yes. If you’re asking me to leave you alone or if I want to transfer, then I’m afraid that answer is going to be a resounding no…I just don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“I see,” she began, “well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go on a proper date. Not one that happens to be in my office.”

“Oh…I’d like that.”

“I would too, obviously. Also, we don’t have to tell work right away. I won’t have you transferred, and we can see where this goes because…as far as I’m concerned, you’ve got me, Five Hargreeves.”

They spent the rest of the evening into the next morning talking about the parameters of their new arrangement, which did wonders for Five’s overactive mind. She put every concern he had to bed. Quite literally. Her honeied chirps smoothed over his open emotional wounds and healed his scars. She made their situation quite clear: they liked each other, she was positive about this turn of events, and they’d see where it went…even if they could pretty much see where it was headed already.

If the CIA found out before they declared it, they’d be in heaps of trouble and forced to split at the very least, it wouldn’t be surprising if they were both fired…so they’d keep their, rather unprofessional relationship, to themselves for the time being. They’d disclose it later, but for now – it was theirs…and that’s how they liked it.

link to: Chapter One

link to: Chapter Two

All rights Reserved ©thesilvertheorist 2025

Do not repost - reblogs welcome <3

TAGLIST NOTES - PLEASE READ:

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[ceceswithnopizza]

Lorena and Joshua have a close but undefined relationship. She hopes for more but doesn’t push it. After a night out, she goes to his hotel, only to find another woman there. Heartbroken, she realizes she’s been waiting for something that may never happen.

Starring: Joshua ‘Jey Uso’ Fatu x Lorena black!female!oc

1.7-1.8k words

the word nigga is used but we’re all black here tbh

Bold and italics is a flashback

---Lorena’s POV

The club was booming, the drinks were flowing, and me and the girls looked damn good standing in our section as Bianca, Liv, Trin, John, Jade, and I were sipping and getting low.

“So, sis, where your man at?” Jade said, sipping on the shiny black straw in her glass as she turned to me.

“What man I got?” I said, turning to face her on the booth, making sure my bits and pieces weren’t out due to my dress.

“Don’t let lil bro hear that,” John said, his arm around Trin, his beer in the other. Trin made an “o” motion with her mouth before making a messy face at John, then turning back to me.

“Why you playing, girl? You know he don’t play about you!” she teased, referring to when Jaida tried to check me a few months back.

-

Walking to my car, exhausted after defending the women’s tag team titles at NXT against some new tag team, I stood with my rolling suitcase, waiting for valet to bring my car around.

“Aye, Lorena, I need to talk to you for a minute,” I heard an echoed voice call out in the garage. Turning around, it was none other than Jaida, still in her gear with some Yeet sweatpants on.

“I wanted to give these back to Jay, but he hasn’t been answering me,” she said, handing me Jey’s favorite hoodie that he often wore and his Prada shades I got him for his birthday.

Blinking, fighting the urge to slap all the seven gates of hell out of her, I regained my composure. Ain’t no bitch ever gonna bother me.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to see him and give those back,” I said sweetly, looking at her just as smug.

“Look, you ain’t got to be jealous. I’m sure if you ask Jey, he’ll give you some,” she shrugged, curling her arms in and pressing the items to her chest.

“I don’t know who you think you are, better yet who you think I am, but that ain’t got nothing to do with me,” I said as valet approached, holding out my keys.

“And it ain’t got nothing to do with me either! Why you playing and lying like we been together?” Josh said, seemingly popping up from nowhere.

Sighing, I grabbed my keys and walked away as Joshua continued confronting Jaida. Hopping into my truck, waiting for my car to heat up, I heard a knocking on my window. It was Jey.

“Roll the window down, Lora!” he tapped as I paused, looking at him smacking his teeth. “Lora, don’t play with me.”

Scoffing and rolling the window down, not wasting a moment. “Me? Stop playing with you? You playing with your damn self, having a girl come up to me holding some shit I bought you! If you ain’t out your rabbit mind, you for sure out your donkey ass mind if you think that’s cool!” I ranted, looking into his beautiful eyes.

As he tried to reach in the car, unlocking it, I saw his shadow disappear over the front of the car before opening and unlocking my door, getting in.

“Look, Lore, it wasn’t like that. We never did anything. I just let her borrow my jacket, and those shades aren’t mine,” he rushed out before digging in his pocket, pulling out the shades.

“I don’t even let John wear or touch these. And you know how he begs! Do you really think I gave those to her or did something with her?” he asked, looking into my eyes as I suddenly felt hot at the hand he had on my leg.

“Maybe you didn’t, but what’s she coming to me for?” I asked, playing with the leather on my steering wheel.

“Because you’re my girl, and she wishes she was,” he said softly. Oh, how I loved when his voice got soft and low while still being the voice that would give me goosebumps. He began rubbing his hand up my thigh.

“You mad at me, Lora? Hm?” It was sickly sweet, the way he was talking to me, as he reached over and trailed kisses up my neck, up to my sweet spot.

“You my girl?”

I stilled, fighting the pleasure and searching for my brain—the one he always scrambled with a smile or a look. Was this just words, or were we actually trying?

---

“First of all, I don’t know how y’all know about that. And second, if it was up to me, we’d already be together—actually, a long time ago,” I said, sipping on my favorite drink.

“Well then, it’s settled. I’ll talk to Josh!” Trin said, cheesing with a little shimmy, which made me instantly shake my head in a no motion.

“Absolutely not, Trinity. Don’t stick your nose in this! Juce is a grown man with a mouth. If he wanted us to be something, we’d already be it!” The last thing I needed was Trinity’s nosey ass meddling.

“Girl, hush,” she started, waving me off. She wasn’t taking me seriously, so I knew she was just going to do it anyway.

“Trinity, I’m not playing. Please leave it alone. What Juce and I have going on is between us.” We’ve had talks about this, and it was always decided that the sex, flirting, and the somewhat dates were just that. There was no need to complicate it.

Yes, I wanted him, but I wasn’t begging him. I was just going to enjoy this for a little longer. It wasn’t like I was rushing to be in a relationship, but I did want to settle down a lot more.

“Yeah, girl, you right. How about we go get a drink? At the bar and stuff?” she said, doing a complete flip. She grabbed my hand, pulling me up, and led me to the bar.

“Are you okay? That was sudden. What’s going on?” The Trinity I knew would never let that conversation go.

“Yeah, girl, just look this way,” she rushed.

“Trin, you’re being weird,” I told her.

“Look, girl, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for pushing you. You and Juce have an understanding, and I should respect that. I am going to respect that. It’s just—I know you’ve waited for so long to get married and have kids because you wanted to do it right. I just want you to be happy,” she said sincerely, and it really made me feel better.

Sometimes it did feel like I was holding myself up for Josh. I’m twenty-eight. I’m at that sweet spot in my career. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do—for now. With my sponsorships, campaigns, my WWE schedule—it’s been a lot of back-and-forth traveling, barely having any time for myself.

I’m living all of my dreams, except one.

“Okay, enough with all this stuff. Let’s have fun,” Trin said, taking my hands and leading me to our section, where we turned up.

---

**Later at Joshua’s Hotel Room**

Taking a deep breath in, I began knocking. The door was sleek, light-washed wood in more of a boho standard. The hallways were lined with a patterned emerald green carpet on the floor.

Reaching my fist again, I knocked, standing there, my feet shifting in my So Kate’s.

What could he possibly be doing?

I only knocked once more before the door went flying open, and a taller, muscled, chocolate-skinned woman huffed in what I assumed was Jey’s shirt.

“Can you stop knocking? My nigga got work in the morning!” she said, rolling her eyes, opening the door just enough to give me a little peek inside, where, low and behold, Jey was sleeping.

Just nodding my head, I began walking down the hallway.

Damn.

[voxiteri]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions and ✨Marijuana✨

Let them get high!!!!

tw: drug use

Halsin

Has 100% smoked before and still does

Definitely had his own grow room at the grove

Likes to mix it with tobacco, since sometimes the taste is too strong for him

Usually just takes a couple puffs to relax

However, when he does smoke more than just a little, he likes to revert to his bear form afterwards and take a little nature walk

Sharing is caring, the man always offers

Big cuddler when he's high

Astarion

Alternatively, and surprisingly, he has never done it, seeing as he didn't have much access to, well, anything

HATES the smell, and refuses to be around it at first

It takes quite a bit of convincing, but the idea of being under the influence of something other than shitty wine sounds appealing

Also hates the taste

Coughs like a bitch lol

Says "this ain't shit" and then proceeds to smoke way more than he probably should for his first time

Gets paranoid and has to lay down

Oddly enough, the best sleep he's gotten in a very long time

Gale

Stoner virgin pt 2

He's probably never smoked anything in his life

YAPS about the effects of marijuana (he read it in a book once)

Coughs so hard he almost pukes

Doesn't mind the taste or smell, but he's not a fan of the burning feeling from smoking

Would use a bong if given the chance

Would also be godly at making edibles

For the first time ever, he shuts the fuck up

Non-verbal stoned moment

Gets REALLY horny

Wyll

He smoked during his rebellious years as a teen

Sometimes finds himself missing it

The smell gave him flashbacks

Handles it well, considering it's been a while

A little giggly

TOUCHY but in a platonic way

He gets the munchies BAD, and usually craves sweets

Tries to keep up with more seasoned smokers but ends up passing out at some point

Shadowheart

Doesn't really remember if she's smoked before or not

A little put off by the smell

Doesn't think smoking is healthy in general, but she's out of wine, so

Takes one hit and realizes she's DEFINITELY felt this before

I imagine pre-game she wasn't smoking a lot, but maybe a couple of times here and there, seeing as she was far too focused on her Sharran worship, so it makes sense that she wouldn't really remember after getting her memories back

GIGGLY

Also touchy in a platonic way, but not nearly as much as others (*cough cough* Karlach *cough cough*)

She gets really focused on the Owlbear and Scratch, and practically ignores everything else around her in favor of baby-talking and loudly smooching foreheads

Lae'Zel

Thinks such activities are useless and that time spent smoking is time better spent training

Finds the smell revolting

Thinks it makes everyone stupid

Won't

But if she did, her personality does a total 180 and she gets oddly sentimental and will openly tell you she cares about you

Likes shining her sword if she's high, it's therapeutic

Karlach

TOTAL STONER

It was a great escape when she had down time in the hells

Smoked with Gorty once, back when they were buddy-buddy

LOUD

Doesn't stop yapping

Giggly

TOUCHIEST TOUCHER

She WILL squeeze

Out smokes everyone, even Mr. 350 Years Old

Minthara

Thinks it's poison, and won't do it

Even if she wanted to, nobody else does

Nightmare blunt rotation member

Jaheira

Smokes with Halsin

Can grow her own instantly, and does so consistently

Appreciates it's medicinal properties, even allowing it to be used by the Harpers as such

Quiet when high, but is more prone to opening up about her life/past when probed

Prefers edibles

Minsc

Definitely smokes consistently

Makes sure Boo isn't right in the smoke

LOUD pt 2

At least he's sitting still for once

Likes telling stories

Will do "funny voices", but to everyone else it's just his normal voice