The Dating Odyssey: Eddie

Objection! Part 8

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

6.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Authors Note: Drunks me has decide this chapters goodd to go blame the whiskey if its nots also blame the whiskey for any abd spellin and grammar drunk me is also not sorry for the cliffffhnager.

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The squad room was unusually still, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence like an ominous soundtrack. I sat at a desk, staring at my phone, willing it to buzz with something—anything. A message. A clue. A sign. My knee bounced restlessly under the desk, and my hands clenched into fists. Each passing second felt like a lifetime, every tick of the clock a painful reminder that Y/N was out there, alone, and I wasn’t doing enough to bring her back.

The air felt heavy, thick with tension that no one dared to break. Amanda was seated at her desk, her hands hovering over her keyboard as if typing might somehow help her forget the helplessness in the room. Finn leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. Olivia, always the calm in the storm, stood near her office, her arms folded as she scanned the room, likely calculating her next move. But it all felt distant to me. My focus was singular: the phone in front of me that refused to deliver answers.

Then the sound of heavy, purposeful footsteps storming into the room shattered the stillness like a thunderclap. Sonny.

His face was flushed with anger, a storm brewing in his eyes as he practically threw the door shut behind him, the loud slam making everyone flinch. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—disheveled, tense, and radiating a kind of fury that no one wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of raw emotion. “Why are you just sitting around? Why aren’t you out there looking for my sister?”

Olivia stepped forward, her tone calm and steady as she tried to defuse the situation. “Carisi, we’re doing everything we can—”

But Sonny wasn’t having it. He cut her off, shaking his head furiously. “Don’t ‘Carisi’ me, Captain! My sister is out there with some psycho, and you’re all just standing here like it’s another day at the office!”

His eyes scanned the room wildly, seeking someone to lash out at, someone to blame. And then they landed on me.

“You,” he snarled, his voice dropping to a deadly edge as he pointed a trembling finger at me.

He crossed the room in quick strides, his fury like a physical force that slammed into me before his words even reached my ears.

“This is all your fault.”

I stood, meeting his gaze, my body tense. “Sonny,” I said, my voice low, a warning.

But he didn’t stop. His hands collided with my chest in a hard shove, forcing me to stumble back a step.

“If you’d done your damn job—if you hadn’t failed Anya—Y/N wouldn’t be in this mess!” he shouted, his voice raw with grief and fury. His words cut deeper than any blow, hitting a part of me I’d been trying to bury under determination and focus.

His chest was heaving, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The rest of the squad watched in stunned silence, no one daring to step in just yet.

“You were supposed to look after her, Barba! That was your job!” His voice cracked, tears glistening in his eyes as his anger started to morph into something more desperate.

“I know,” I said quietly, the weight of my guilt making it hard to speak louder.

But Sonny wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his face inches from mine, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss.

“If Marco hurts even a hair on her head,” he said, his voice trembling with both rage and fear, “you’re a dead man, Barba. You hear me? A dead man.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for me to respond.

I couldn’t.

The guilt was already eating me alive, and Sonny’s words felt like a knife twisting deeper into an already festering wound. I looked down, unable to meet his gaze, my jaw clenched as I tried to keep my emotions in check. The weight of his blame—and my own—threatened to crush me.

Finally, Olivia stepped forward, her hand resting gently on Sonny’s shoulder. “Sonny,” she said softly, “we’re going to find her. But this isn’t helping.”

He shook her off, taking a shaky step back, his chest still heaving. “You better,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper before he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving an oppressive silence in his wake.

I stayed rooted to the spot, my fists clenched at my sides, my eyes fixed on the desk in front of me. The words echoed in my head—your fault, your fault, your fault.

Before I could find my voice, the door opened again, and two uniformed officers walked in, dragging a man between them. Marco. His smug expression was infuriating, even as his dishevelled appearance betrayed that he’d been through hell.

“He turned himself in downstairs,” one of the officers said.

“Get him in interrogation,” Olivia ordered, her voice sharp.

I watched as the officers dragged Marco into the interrogation room, his head held high, his movements casual as if he were walking into a meeting instead of a police station. My blood boiled with every step they took. From the other side of the two-way mirror, I stood frozen, watching every calculated move he made. Marco leaned back in his chair with the smugness of a man who believed he held all the cards, his posture lazy, his lips curled into an infuriating smirk.

Olivia and Finn entered the room, their expressions hard as steel. They were seasoned, unshakable, but even they seemed tense as they faced the man responsible for Y/N’s disappearance. Olivia wasted no time, her tone icy as she cut straight to the point.

“You want to tell us where she is?” she asked, each word like a dagger aimed to pierce his composure.

But Marco didn’t flinch. He didn’t cower or hesitate. Instead, his smirk widened, his dark eyes gleaming with something sinister. His gaze shifted past Olivia, locking on the two-way mirror. It was as if he could see through it, his expression a challenge aimed directly at me.

“I’m not talking to you,” he said with infuriating calm. “I’ll only talk to Barba.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb ready to detonate. My fists clenched so tightly at my sides that my nails bit into my palms. I felt the heat of my anger rising, my pulse pounding in my ears. Through the glass, Olivia turned to glance at me, her hesitation flickering in the subtle furrow of her brow.

Before she could make a decision, I acted on instinct. Without waiting for approval, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room felt stifling, the tension pressing down on me like a physical weight. Marco’s eyes lit up as he saw me, his smirk growing into a predatory grin.

“You want to talk to me?” I asked, my voice tight with barely contained rage. I stood at the table, my hands gripping the edge so hard I thought the metal might bend. “Fine. Let’s talk. Where is she?”

Marco leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as if he were about to share a secret. “Oh, Rafael,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always so direct. Haven’t you learned by now? It’s never that simple.”

I slammed my hands down on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. The force rattled the chair Marco sat in, but he didn’t flinch. I leaned over him, my face inches from his, my fury barely leashed.

“Enough games!” I barked. “Tell me where she is!”

Marco’s composure didn’t waver. If anything, he seemed to enjoy my outburst, feeding off the anger radiating from me. He tilted his head like a teacher addressing a particularly slow student. “You like scavenger hunts, don’t you?” he asked, his voice deceptively light. “I left you some clues. Why don’t you put that sharp mind of yours to work?”

I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, to force him to see the gravity of what he’d done. My voice rose, sharp and biting. “You’re wasting precious time!”

For the first time, his smirk faltered, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and his grin returned, but it was colder now, sharper.

“No, Rafael,” he said, his tone darkening. “You’re wasting time. The longer you stand here arguing with me, the more water fills her final hiding place.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer, each syllable echoing in my head. Water fills her final hiding place. The room seemed to tilt, my breath catching as the full weight of his threat sank in. Every second was precious. Every moment spent here was a moment closer to losing her.

“What did you say?” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper, my hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the table.

“You heard me,” Marco said, his smirk returning, but his eyes were darker now, filled with cruel satisfaction. “If you want to save her, you’ll need to start with my things. They’re locked up downstairs. Tick tock, counselor.”

His taunting tone was the final straw. Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, my heart pounding like a drum. His laughter followed me, low and menacing, a ghostly echo that clung to me as I sprinted down the hall.

Every second mattered now, and I wouldn’t waste another.

The moment Marco mentioned Y/N’s life hanging in the balance, a fire ignited inside me. Every second wasted felt like a betrayal to her. My feet pounded against the linoleum floor as I sprinted toward the evidence lockup, Sonny just steps ahead of me. His desperation mirrored my own, his frantic pace proof of how much he cared for his sister.

By the time I reached the evidence room, Sonny was already there, his hands moving with frantic precision as he rifled through Marco’s belongings. His face was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, and determination all vying for control. He barely acknowledged my arrival, snatching up the evidence bag containing Marco’s personal items.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sonny muttered under his breath, more to himself than to me. Without another word, we turned and bolted back to the squad room.

The others barely had time to clear the desks before we dumped the contents of the bag onto one of them, sending papers and small objects scattering across the surface. The noise of the chaotic search filled the air—keys clinking against the desk, papers rustling, receipts crumpling under impatient hands. The tension was suffocating, the silence broken only by Sonny’s muttered curses as he rifled through the mess.

I tried to focus, my hands shaking slightly as I sifted through the random items: a worn leather wallet, a set of keys on a chain with a gaudy souvenir keyring, a handful of receipts, and a few crumpled scraps of paper. None of it made sense. None of it screamed “clue.” My pulse pounded in my ears, the seconds ticking by with cruel indifference.

Then Sonny froze, his hands stilling mid-motion. His eyes locked on the wallet, a look of realization dawning across his face. He yanked it open and pulled out a folded piece of paper tucked into one of the inner pockets.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice sharp with urgency as I leaned closer.

Sonny unfolded the note with shaky fingers, his eyes scanning the handwritten words. “It says, ‘Your next clue can be found where Y/N buys Rafael’s morning coffee.’”

For a moment, I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Where she buys my coffee? I—I don’t know where she goes.”

Sonny scoffed, frustration flashing across his face as he tossed the wallet onto the desk. “Of course you don’t. She’s been doing it for months, and you haven’t even noticed.”

The jab stung, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Sonny grabbed his coat, the movement abrupt and filled with purpose. “I do. She always gets it from the same place because they sell her favorite cannoli. Come on.”

Before I could respond, Sonny was already heading for the door, his pace quick and his movements sharp. Olivia grabbed her jacket, sparing a glance at me as she followed.

“Let’s move, Barba,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

I grabbed my own coat and hurried after them, sparing a brief glance back at the rest of the team. Amanda, Finn, and Nick were still in the squad room, their expressions a mixture of frustration and determination.

“Keep sweating him,” Olivia called over her shoulder as we left. “We’ll find her.”

The hallway outside felt colder, the sterile fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows. Sonny’s steps echoed ahead of us, his pace nearly a jog. The determination in his stride mirrored the fire burning in my chest. Wherever Marco’s sick game was leading us, I’d follow every step of the way—because failure wasn’t an option.

…

The tension in the car was suffocating as we sped toward the café, Sonny gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His frustration bubbled over, his voice sharp and accusing as he vented.

“You don’t know where she buys your coffee? Seriously, Barba? She does it every day! You didn’t think to ask? To notice?”

I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but the truth stung too much. I stared out the window, ashamed. “I didn’t ask her to do it,” I muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“You didn’t have to,” Sonny snapped, his voice rising. “You’re just oblivious! That girl would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you wouldn’t even notice. And now, look where we are.”

His words hit like a gut punch, but I didn’t have the luxury of letting them sink in. Y/N’s life was at stake, and dwelling on my shortcomings wouldn’t help.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the café, and Sonny was out before it had fully stopped, slamming the door behind him. Olivia and I scrambled to catch up as he barged inside, holding Marco’s photo up like a badge.

“Have you seen this man?” Sonny demanded, his voice cutting through the hum of the café.

A barista behind the counter paused, her eyes flitting from the photo to me. “Are you Rafael Barba?” she asked, her tone uncertain.

I stepped forward, my throat tight. “Yes.”

Wordlessly, she handed me a coffee cup. My name was scrawled on the side in sharp, black letters, and beneath it, a note in Marco’s handwriting: “Enjoy this at the table closest to the window. Best view in the house.”

I stared at the cup, my stomach churning with unease. “Keep it,” I said, setting it firmly back on the counter. The thought of playing Marco’s twisted game made my skin crawl.

Sonny and Olivia were already at the window, scanning the street outside for anything out of place. I joined them, my eyes darting over the view: the passing cars, bustling shops, and scattered pedestrians. Then my gaze landed on the florist across the street, its display bursting with vivid blooms.

“It’s there,” I said, my voice firm with conviction.

Sonny frowned, skeptical. “How do you know?”

I pointed to the florist’s display. “Magnolias. Y/N’s favorite perfume is magnolia and honeysuckle. That florist has magnolias right out front. It has to be there.”

Sonny didn’t wait for further explanation, and neither did I. The three of us bolted across the street, dodging honking cars and shouted curses from drivers. The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers as we reached the florist, and we immediately began combing through the arrangements.

I shoved aside bouquets of roses, daisies, and lilies, searching for something—anything—that stood out. Sonny did the same, muttering curses under his breath as petals flew in every direction.

“Cosa stai facendo?” a furious voice suddenly bellowed in Italian, startling all of us.

An elderly man emerged from the shop, his face red with anger as he gestured wildly at the mess we were making. Sonny stepped forward, his tone urgent as he switched to rapid Italian, showing the man Marco’s photo.

“Avete visto quest'uomo? È importante, ha mia sorella,” Sonny pleaded.

The man’s scowl deepened, but after a long pause, he disappeared back into the shop. Moments later, he returned, holding a small bouquet of magnolias and honeysuckles. Attached to the stems was a card.

Sonny snatched it and unfolded it quickly, his hands trembling. He read aloud, “Congratulations on getting this far. I promise the rest won’t be as easy. Your next clue requires some required reading. CSL.”

“CSL?” Sonny repeated, his voice rising with frustration. He crumpled the card in his fist. “What the hell does that mean? There’s gotta be hundreds of libraries and bookstores in the city! How are we supposed to figure out which one?”

“Marco’s clues have been tied to Y/N,” Olivia interjected calmly. “Think. What library or bookstore would be important to her?”

Sonny groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know! She loves reading, she’s been to dozens of places—”

My mind raced. Marco’s game wasn’t random. Every clue so far had been calculated, designed to taunt us and waste precious time. Suddenly, Sonny spoke again, his tone more focused.

“We should go to Y/N’s room,” he said. “Maybe there’s something there. A book, a receipt, anything that could lead us to a specific place.”

I hesitated. The thought of tearing apart her sanctuary, her private space, felt invasive. But there was no other option.

“Let’s go,” Olivia said, already moving toward the car.

We piled in, the silence heavy with unspoken fears as Sonny drove us back to Y/N’s apartment. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of the clock ticking down pressing harder with each passing moment.

…

Sonny stormed into his apartment ahead of Olivia and me, his frustration palpable as he pushed the door open and headed straight for Y/N’s room. I followed, not knowing what to expect but feeling an ache in my chest I couldn’t shake.

The moment I stepped inside, I was surrounded by her. The faint scent of magnolia and honeysuckle lingered in the air, her favorite perfume. It was subtle but unmistakable, and it sent a pang through me. Her room was uniquely hers—organized chaos that told a story in every corner.

Three towering bookshelves lined one wall, each one crammed full of books. Some were neatly arranged; others had stacks leaning precariously or lying flat across the tops of rows. A mix of genres, from legal thrillers to battered fantasy paperbacks, filled the shelves, alongside small trinkets that made the space so undeniably Y/N.

There were figurines of owls, a tiny Eiffel Tower, and a vintage globe no bigger than my fist. A jar of sea glass sat next to a framed photo of her and Sonny, both grinning like they didn’t have a care in the world. I stopped to look at it for a moment, the joy on her face a stark contrast to the fear I knew she must be feeling now.

The desk was cluttered but purposeful—papers, notebooks, and pens scattered across the surface. A lamp with a floral shade cast a soft glow over the space. A coffee mug sat on the desk, still half-full and abandoned in haste.

The bed, a queen size with a simple gray comforter, was unmade, the covers tossed back as if she’d just rolled out of it. A stuffed animal—a well-loved bear with one eye missing—sat propped up on the pillows. It was the kind of detail that felt so personal, so intimate, that it made my throat tighten.

Sonny tore through the room with urgency, pulling books off shelves and flipping through them for hidden notes. He yanked open drawers in her desk, scattering pens and papers across the floor. “There has to be something,” he muttered, frustration evident in every motion.

Olivia joined him, opening the wardrobe and sifting through the neatly hung clothes. She checked pockets, rifled through shoeboxes tucked on the floor.

I moved to one of the bookshelves, running my fingers over the spines of the books. “She has so many,” I murmured, almost to myself.

“She loves to read,” Sonny said without looking up. “Always has. If you paid more attention, you’d know that.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I crouched to check the lower shelves, trying not to think about how well Sonny knew her or how much I didn’t.

I opened the bedside table, finding a stack of journals and a flashlight. The journals were tempting, but I couldn’t bring myself to violate her privacy like that—not yet.

“Check the desk again,” Olivia said.

I stepped over to it, brushing my fingers over the coffee mug. It was still warm. She must have left it there this morning before this nightmare started.

Sonny cursed, pulling a pile of papers from the bottom shelf of the last bookcase. “There’s nothing here! No library card, no receipt, nothing.”

I leaned back against the desk, frustrated. The room was in disarray now, her things scattered everywhere, but we’d found nothing useful.

“I don’t know where she goes for books,” Sonny said, his voice breaking slightly.

“She has to have mentioned something,” Olivia said.

Before Sonny could respond, Olivia’s phone rang. Finn’s voice came through the speaker as she answered.

“Any luck on your end?” Finn asked.

“No,” Olivia admitted, running a hand through her hair. “We’ve torn her room apart and come up empty. You?”

Finn put her on speaker, and she repeated the clue. When Nick’s voice cut through, my stomach twisted.

“Centre Market Place,” he said. “Secondhand bookstore, below street level. Y/N took me there once to buy a present for Zara. She calls it her secret hideaway.”

“Of course, Little Italy our Nonna use to take her there all the time, it was their special place,  I can’t believe I forgot about that” For a brief moment joy flashed across Sonny’s face but was quickly replaced by determination.

Of course, Nick knew. He’d been there with her, shared that part of her world that I hadn’t.

“She never told me about it,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

Sonny glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Well, now you know. Let’s go.”

I followed him out, the scent of magnolia and honeysuckle still clinging to me as we left her room in disarray. The thought of her stuck somewhere, terrified and waiting, pushed me forward. I wouldn’t stop until we found her.

…

Sonny drove like a man possessed, weaving through the dense New York traffic with a reckless precision that made my pulse hammer in my ears. The city blurred past in streaks of light and color as he pushed the car to its limits. My hand gripped the handle above the door tightly, knuckles white, but I said nothing. Sonny’s jaw was set, his focus unbreakable, and I knew better than to distract him. It wasn’t just the speed or the sharp turns that had my stomach in knots—it was the fear. The fear that every second slipping through our fingers might be one we couldn’t afford.

We skidded to a stop in front of the bookstore Nick had mentioned, the tires screeching loudly enough to draw annoyed looks from passersby. The building itself was understated, its entrance a narrow, weathered staircase descending into what looked like the basement of an old brownstone. The sign above the door was small and almost easy to miss, its hand-painted letters reading Rare Finds Books.

The moment we stepped inside, the air changed. It was warm and smelled of old paper and leather, with faint hints of coffee wafting from somewhere deeper in the maze-like shop. Shelves stretched in endless rows, towering over us, each crammed with books of all shapes and sizes. Some areas seemed impossibly tight, the shelves so close together that two people couldn’t pass through at the same time. Hidden alcoves featured overstuffed armchairs and small tables, inviting readers to lose themselves in a story. Despite its modest exterior, the store sprawled beneath the street above, an intricate labyrinth of literature.

“This place is a maze,” Olivia muttered, turning in a slow circle as her eyes scanned the towering shelves. “How are we supposed to find anything in here?”

Sonny’s expression was grim but determined. “CSL. It’s gotta be C.S. Lewis. Y/N loves his books—always has.”

His confidence spurred us into action. We split up without hesitation, scanning the shelves for anything bearing the familiar name. It didn’t take long to locate the section dedicated to C.S. Lewis. The shelves were packed with his works: The Chronicles of Narnia, Mere Christianity, The Screwtape Letters. Gold and silver lettering gleamed on the spines of hardcovers, while well-loved paperbacks showed the wear of countless readings.

Olivia and I dove in, pulling books from the shelves and flipping through their pages. I worked quickly, my fingers trembling slightly as I rifled through covers and dog-eared pages, searching for any sign of a clue. The tension in my chest grew with each empty book I replaced, the clock in my head ticking louder with every passing moment.

Then Sonny froze, his hand hovering over a single book on the shelf. “That Hideous Strength,” he murmured, pulling it down carefully.

I looked over at him. “Why that one?”

“It’s the last book in a trilogy Y/N’s been reading,” Sonny explained without looking up. “She’s been searching for this one for months. I’m sure of it.”

He opened the book, flipping through its pages with purpose. Midway through, a small slip of paper fluttered free, landing on the floor. Sonny snatched it up quickly, his breath hitching as he read it aloud.

“‘Eight clues to go, but will you make it in time? Your next clue will require a steep climb.’”

Olivia frowned, glancing around as though the next clue might be hidden in plain sight. “A steep climb? What does that mean?”

Sonny’s jaw tightened. “It means we don’t have time to waste. Let’s move.”

He dropped the book unceremoniously onto a nearby table and strode toward the door, muttering under his breath about steep climbs in the city. Olivia and I exchanged a quick glance before hurrying after him.

But I hesitated. My gaze drifted back to the book, its edges slightly frayed, the cover bearing the faint marks of countless hands. Something about it tugged at me. Without thinking, I picked it up and carried it to the counter.

“I’ll take this,” I said, pulling out my wallet.

The cashier, an older man with round glasses perched on his nose, smiled faintly as he rang it up. “Good choice,” he said. “Lewis always has a way of speaking to the soul.”

I nodded absently, tucking the book under my arm as I turned to leave. I didn’t know if we’d find Y/N in time, but I clung to the hope that we would. Christmas was only a few weeks away, and if she made it through this, I’d find a way to give her the book. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small piece of normalcy in a nightmare that felt never-ending.

I jogged to catch up with Sonny and Olivia, the book pressed tightly to my chest like a talisman against the uncertainty ahead.

…

Back in the car, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with frustration and urgency. Sonny gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, as he and Olivia volleyed ideas back and forth about what "a steep climb" could mean. Their voices overlapped, each growing louder as their frustration mounted.

“Could it be the Empire State Building?” Olivia suggested, glancing at her phone as she pulled up a map. “It’s a climb, and it’s iconic.”

Sonny shook his head sharply. “Too public. Marco’s been keeping this quiet. It’s gotta be something personal to Y/N.”

I sat in the backseat, clutching the book I had bought for her, my mind racing. The clue had to mean something tied to Y/N—every step so far had been personal, connected to her routines, her likes, her life. Then it hit me.

“What if it’s the courthouse?” I said, my voice cutting through their argument.

Both of them turned to look at me, Sonny’s frown deepening. “The courthouse? Why would it be there?”

I leaned forward, gripping the back of the front seat. “She’s there almost every day. It’s a part of her routine. The steps could easily be considered a steep climb.”

Sonny’s eyes flicked to Olivia, annoyance flashing briefly in his expression, as if he was frustrated he hadn’t thought of it first. But then his jaw set, and he nodded. “Alright, let’s check it out.”

He hit the gas, the tires screeching as we sped toward the courthouse. The familiar city streets whipped past, the growing ache in my chest tightening with every block. Time felt like a physical weight pressing down on me, each second a reminder that Y/N could be slipping further away.

The moment we arrived, we were out of the car and sprinting toward the courthouse steps. The towering building loomed over us, its columns and grandeur as imposing as ever. We scaled the steps two at a time, the burn in my legs barely registering through the adrenaline coursing through me.

At the top, a man leaned against the railing, his clothes tattered, a worn backpack slung over his shoulder. He straightened the moment he saw us, his sharp eyes locking onto me.

“Hey!” he called, his voice rough but clear. “You Rafael Barba?”

I stepped forward, my chest heaving. “Yes. Did someone leave a message for me?”

The man nodded, digging into his pocket. From the folds of his jacket, he pulled out a crumpled $50 bill. “Some guy gave me this. Told me to wait here and say, ‘Water liberty seat.’”

“Water liberty seat?” Sonny repeated, his voice rising with frustration. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The man shrugged, pocketing the bill and wandering off before we could press him for more information. Sonny threw up his hands in exasperation, pacing back and forth along the top step. “This is ridiculous! How the hell are we supposed to make sense of that?”

Olivia placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Sonny, we’ll figure it out. We just have to stay focused.”

But I wasn’t paying attention to them. My mind was already working, the words tumbling over each other in my head like puzzle pieces sliding into place. Water liberty seat. It wasn’t random. It wasn’t a riddle—it was a description.

“Battery Park,” I said, my voice cutting through Sonny’s muttering.

Sonny stopped mid-pace, turning to face me. “What did you say?”

“It’s Battery Park,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “Y/N eats lunch there sometimes when she’s working late. She told me once she likes to sit where she can see the Statue of Liberty. ‘Water liberty seat’—it fits.”

Sonny blinked, his frustration giving way to dawning understanding. “That’s... yeah, that’s gotta be it.”

Olivia nodded, already heading for the car. “Then let’s move.”

We were running again, my legs burning as we pounded back down the courthouse steps. The sense of urgency clawed at me, each step feeling heavier, each second more precious.

As we raced through the streets toward Battery Park, I couldn’t shake the thought gnawing at the back of my mind: time was slipping through our fingers, and we couldn’t afford to lose another moment.

…

Sonny slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt in front of Battery Park. Before the engine had fully died, I was out of the car, my feet pounding against the pavement. My focus zeroed in on the bench, the one Y/N always sat on, the one I’d overlooked so many times before.

The bench faced the water, perfectly positioned to catch a view of the Statue of Liberty. I dropped to my knees beside it, ignoring the curious stares from passersby. My hands groped underneath, searching for something, anything, out of place. My fingers brushed against the edge of a crinkled paper bag, wedged in a spot so hidden it was almost invisible.

“Got it,” I muttered, tugging the bag free and sitting back on my heels. Olivia and Sonny crowded around me as I opened it. Inside was a neatly wrapped sandwich and a single folded piece of paper.

The note was maddeningly vague, written in Marco’s infuriatingly smug handwriting: “You know where to go.”

Sonny snatched the note from my hand, scanning the words as his frustration boiled over. “What the hell does that even mean?” he shouted, crumpling the note and hurling it into the trash along with the untouched sandwich. “This guy’s screwing with us! We’re running around the city while Y/N—” His voice broke off, and he turned away, pacing angrily along the sidewalk.

I sat on the bench, the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a tidal wave. My head dropped into my hands as I tried to piece together Marco’s twisted logic. He wouldn’t leave something vague without expecting me to figure it out. It wasn’t random; it was deliberate.

The steady rhythm of the waves caught my attention, pulling my gaze toward the water. For a moment, the chaos around me faded. The answer wasn’t in the note—it was in Marco’s mind. Every step of this game was a taunt, a deliberate jab at me. This wasn’t about Y/N, not really. She was the bait, a pawn in Marco’s personal vendetta.

I stood abruptly, the answer snapping into focus. “The DA’s office,” I said, turning to Olivia and Sonny. “It has to be the DA’s office.”

Sonny stopped pacing, his frustration giving way to determination. “Why the DA’s office?”

“Because this about Y/N,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my chest. “It’s about her. Every clue has been personal, tied to her life, her routine. The DA’s office is the center of it all—it’s where he wants me.”

Without hesitation, we piled back into the car. Sonny floored the gas, the tires screeching as we tore through the city streets. Inside the car, the tension was a living thing, suffocating and thick. The blare of horns and shouts of frustrated drivers barely registered over the pounding of my heart.

Sonny broke the silence, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice low but edged with anger. “Why Y/N? Why did Marco go after her? Why would he think she’s your weakness?”

His question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Olivia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. Her gaze was heavy with sympathy, but I looked away, unable to face it.

I knew why. We, Olivia and I, both did. But the words stuck in my throat, the admission too raw, too close to everything I had ignored for far too long. Y/N was targeted because of me—because I had let her into my life without considering the danger that came with it. Marco saw her as my weakness, the one way to make me pay for what he thought I’d done to him.

But I couldn’t say it. Not now. Not with Sonny’s anger simmering and Olivia’s quiet understanding pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t lift.

“I don’t know,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.

The silence in the car was deafening after that. Sonny’s jaw tightened, and I could feel his frustration radiating off him, but he didn’t press further. Olivia glanced back at me again, her eyes soft with unspoken words, but I kept my gaze fixed out the window. The city blurred past, the familiar streets a reminder of how close we were—and how far Y/N still seemed.

As we approached the DA’s office, my chest tightened. The closer we got, the heavier the weight on my shoulders grew. Marco had dragged us here for a reason, and I could only pray we weren’t already too late.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans

The Dating Odyssey: Steve

Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Jim Hopper/Jonathan Byers x fem!reader

2.8k word count

fluff, idiot reader, reader who can't say no, choose your own adventure-ish

Part 1 / Eddie's Ending / Jim's Ending / Billy's Ending / Jonathan's Ending

 Sleep that night was a stranger to you. You tossed and turned nodding off only to be jerked back awake by the consequences of your actions. Before long the first light of day was breaking through your window. You decided to abandon sleep and instead start getting ready for work. You showered, dressed and collected the large pile of assignments before loading them into your car and driving to the school. You made it through the day by drinking copious amounts of coffee and plastering on the best fake smile you could manage. Making it home that night you abandoned all thoughts of food and went straight to bed. Yet once again in your quite apartment you were meet with the thoughts of the decision looming over you. Maybe the best solution was to leave Hawkins. Move somewhere new and try again after all isn’t that why you moved here in the first place, for a fresh start. You quickly abandoned that idea, you didn’t have the money and it was hard enough landing the teaching job in Hawkins let alone looking elsewhere.

And so you went another night with very little sleep. Your week went by at a snail’s pace. You thought you were doing a good job hiding your inner turmoil but apparently one particular student had noticed something was a miss with you and decided he needed to check in.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N I was just wondering if your okay you seem very distracted this week, I mean normally you laugh at all my jokes but you haven’t even laughed at one, I’ll admit some weren’t that funny, but I thought a few were pretty good” Dustin rambled standing in the doorway of your classroom

“I’m fine Dustin just some adult drama you don’t need to worry about” You smiled at the curly haired boy

“Is it to do with Steve?” Dustin pushed “Cause his like my best friend I can talk to him if you like”

“No it’s not Steve, but thank you Dustin”

“Well the offers there, see you next week Miss” Dustin smiled walking away

“See you next week” You smiled

You finished packing up your desk glad it was Friday and walk out to your car. In the parking lot you found Dustin, Lucas, Will and Mike goofing around with Eddie who looked like he was picking the boys up from school probably to go play Dungeons and Dragons. You wanted to hurry to your car to avoid being spotted by him. But you stared in the boys direction just a little too long. Eddie looked up from loading the boys into the back of his van just long enough to see you watching. He said something to the boys that you were too far away to hear before jogging over to you. You froze in place, wanting to run but your feet not allowing you to.

“Hi” Eddie smiled coming to a stop in front of you

“Hi Eddie” You gave a small smile back

“Uh oh someones not happy, kids give you hell?” Eddie chuckled

“Eddie” You looked to the ground “I…”

“Y/n whats the matter?” Eddie became serious

“I’m so sorry” You whispered

“What was that?” Eddie asked placing a hand on your elbow “I didn’t quite catch that”

“I’m sorry” You looked up at him

“Sorry? For what?” Eddies face was filled with worry and concern

“Last weekend…I loved our date I really did but I also went on a few other dates and now I don’t know what to do, I messed up and I don’t know what I’m suppose to do, I’m so sorry Eddie” You rambled a few tears escaping to run down your face

“Jesus H. Christ” Eddie turned away from you running a hand through his hair “How many other dates?” Eddie asked still facing away from you eyes closed

“4”

“4!” Eddie shouted turning to face you as he did “4 fucking dates and you didn’t think to at least have the decency to tell me”

“I wanted to but I was scared of this” You said

“Look I’m sorry” Eddie tried to calm down “I just thought a girl finally might give Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson a chance, I guess not”

Eddie stormed off back to his van while you stood in the parking lot and sobbed. You really had fucked up. You needed someone to comfort you right in that moment but at the same time you didn’t really know anyone here. You hoped into your car and decided to go find the one person you had been honest with right from the start. You drove the busy after school streets all the way to Family Video knowing today being Friday that Steve would be working. You walked in the doors looking immediately to the counter for Steve. But he wasn’t there. You began looking down the aisles hoping Steve was just out the back and would be back out soon. A woman you knew to be Robin soon came from out the back having heard the door chime.

“If your looking for Steve his not here” Robin walked over placing a few DVDs on the shelf.

“Is he home sick?” You asked

“I honestly have no clue. Mr Perfect called to take the week off for family reasons” Robin scoffed “Like we all don’t know his parents are rarely ever home and his never mentioned any other family”

“Oh okay well thank you Robin I guess I’ll be going” You managed a smile heading for the door

“If you see the dingus tell him he owes me for working all his shifts” Robin said

“I will” you chuckled

You made your way back to your car and began driving mindlessly around town. You had no clue what to do, no idea where to go. A small piece of you wanted to drive to Steves but you didn’t want to be a burden on him. You drove and debated with yourself on if you should go to Steves or not. It would seem that your unconscious mind made that decision for you because before you could process where you were driving you found yourself in front of Steves. You would have kept driving if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve was sitting on the front step having a smoke. He stood up and waved at you. You silently cursed as you pulled up in front of Steves house. You braced yourself and climbed out of your car and walked towards Steve. At some point between your car and Steve you had begun to shake. By the time you got to Steve you were completely sobbing. Steve pulled you into his arms, gently shushing you and rubbing small circles into your back.

You stayed like that for quite a while before you were able to compose yourself enough to move away from Steve. He guided you into his house, leading you to his lounge room where he had you sit on the lounge while he fetched you something to drink. Part of him was glad you had come to him, yet part of him was scared you where only here to tell him you had picked someone else over him. He came back into the lounge room carrying a glass of water which he handed off to you. Steve sat silently by your side as you sipped at your glass of water waiting for you to speak when you were ready.

“I think I really fucked up” You said after a short but comfortable silence

“Well you don’t say” Steve gave a small smile “What happened?”

“I told Eddie everything” You sighed

“Only Eddie?” Steve questioned

“Yep and given how he reacted I’m not sure I could tell anyone else”

“How did he reacted?” Steve asked

“He snapped at me, he screamed at me, he was very angry”

“Honestly knowing Eddie I’m not at all surprised that that’s how he choose to act”

“What am I suppose to do Steve?” You asked

“I can’t answer that I’m afraid, it’s your choice” Steve sighed running a hand through his hair

“I can’t make a choice Steve, I don’t know even know what I want but it certainly wasn’t this”

You began to sob, dropping your head into your hands. Steve pulled you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest while he rested his chin gently on top of your head. He began to rock the both of you slowly. He truly felt bad for you but at the same time he wanted to be selfish and tell you not to worry about the others and just choose him. But he knew he couldn’t do that, it wasn’t his choice to make. During Steve’s inner turmoil he missed the slowing and evening out of your breathing and the occasional hiccups you made. It wasn’t until he went to ask you if you wanted him to cook you both some dinner that he realised you had fallen asleep. The stress and panic had finally worn you down and you had passed out in the safety of Steves arms. Not wanting to wake you Steve pulled you onto his lap and stood up. He carried you upstairs to his room and place you on his bed. As he went to stand up you clung to his shirt as if he was your life line, your safety net to the situation you found yourself in. Steve tried several times albeit not very hard to get away from you. When he realised he wasn’t getting away from you he moved you further across his bed before joining you. He made a silent prayer to whatever possessed him to wear sweatpants instead of his normal tight jeans before pulling you close to him and falling asleep himself.

The next morning you woke up when sunlight filtered though a nearby window hitting you in your face. You blinked taking in the plaid walls and matching plaid curtains. You started to internally panic, how had you ended up in Steves bed? If you fell asleep why didn’t he just wake you? Better yet why was Steve holding you in his arms. You tried to keep your breathing calm as you attempted to free yourself from Steves arms. You placed a hand on Steves wrist that was currently draped over your waist and tried to slowly lift his arm up. You managed to successfully move his arm from your waist but as you went to move his arm to the bed you lost your grip. Steves arm came down on the bed with a thump startling the man awake. He groaned and you froze. Steve brought his arm up to his face and rubbed his eyes before looking at you. He gave you a half awake smile. In that moment something happened you weren’t quite expecting. Your heart started to race and you couldn’t help but smiled back.

“Morning” Steve yawned

“Good morning, uh, why am I in your bed?”

“Well I didn’t want to wake you up or risk you trying to drive home with how upset you were” Steve shrugged

“Okay and why are you in your bed with me?”

“That would be your fault” Steve smirked poking your nose “You refused to let me go so I had no choice but to stay, I was going to be a gentle man sleep on the floor again”

You started laughing at the absurdity of it all and pulled Steve’s blankets over your face. Steve quickly pulled the entire blanket away from you wrapping himself up like a burrito in the process. He gave you a big goofy grin from inside his burrito causing you to laugh even harder at the man.

“And this is for being the worlds worst blanket hog” Steve got out between his own laughter

Steve unwrapped himself before holding out a hand to you. You gladly accepted it. Steve pulled you from his bed and guided you down stairs to the kitchen where you took a seat at the kitchen island. Steve began running around the kitchen making you both a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs. He poured you a glass of orange juice which you took with a thank you. You sat in relative silence and watched the man work hard on making you both what your sure from previous experience would be an excellent breakfast. At one point Steve spilt some oil on the floor, waved it off and then almost immediately slipped on it. He landed with a thud directly on his butt. You couldn’t help but laugh at him even if he did seem a little mean. Steve quickly stood up and gave you the most over exaggerated look of betrayal. You tried to apologise between laughs but Steve just waved his arm around while saying he would never be able to forgive you. All in good fun of course no actual feelings where hurt. You found yourself deep in thought as Steve finished cooking the bacon and plating breakfast. Steve placed the plate of now ready bacon eggs in front of you. He took a seat beside you and began eating his breakfast. This seemed to bring you out of your head and cause you to start eating for your own food in response.

“So I feel like we need to talk about this situation” Steve said after taking a bite of a piece of bacon and swinging it around in the air

“Uh we’re two adults eating breakfast what is there to discuss?” You tried to avoid what you knew was coming “No y/n I mean this situation you’ve found yourself in” Steve sighed

“I really don’t know what to do” You sighed

“You can’t just avoid everyone forever”

“I’m not avoiding you”

“Y/n no that’s” Steve groaned in frustration

“What do you expected me to do Steve I screwed myself over is that what you want to hear?” You sighed

“You can say that again” Steve sighed “Look I can’t tell you what to do or who to choose and yes I know its hard and it would be easier if I made the decision for you but it doesn’t work that way I’m afraid”

 “Can I just have today and then I’ll make my decision tomorrow?” You asked

“Sure but I’m going to subject you to the worst romantic comedies I can find” Steve smirked moving to put his plate in the sink

After breakfast was finished the two of you moved to the lounge room where Steve quickly picked out Grease as the first of your movies. You settled down on the lounge while Steve went to get snacks and drinks. By the time he came back Danny and Sandy where in the middle of singing about summer love. You had left some space between you and Steve so as not to create any awkward situations. As the movie played on you could feel Steve looking at you. You turned to look at him and he quickly looked away. You shrugged it off and went back to the movie. Several more times during the movie you could feel Steves eyes on you but anytime you looked to him he would be back looking at the movie. Steve even started singing along to the movie at some point. Then as the final number started Steve stood to dance around.

“Come on y/n join me” Steve smiled grabbing your hand pulling you up from the lounge

Steve spun you around while you laughed your way through the song. As the song and the movie came to its close you found yourself in Steves arms smiling from ear to ear and trying to catch your breath. This was the man you wanted to began with. The guy you had basically been crushing on since you got to Hawkins. Would you really be happy with someone else knowing you never gave him the chance? You didn’t want him to be the one who got away.

“Steve I made my choice” You said

“Really? I thought you were going to wait until tomorrow?” He said getting nervous

“I was but I changed my mind” You shrugged

“Okay well what have you decided”

Rather then giving Steve an answer you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first but soon settled into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. You smiled into the kiss. He stole your breath away just like the first time you’d kissed. You pulled apart for air resting your forehead against his. This felt right. Steve felt right.

“So this mean your choosing me?” Steve asked

“No doy” you giggled

Heyy are your requests open?

Yep! Always happy to take requests!

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 16

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2.4k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings MDNI 18+ unprotect p in v, oral F recieving

Authors Note: I'm terrible at writing 18+ content so sorry in advance.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

By the time I got back to the bunker, the plastic bags were digging into my hands, and my mind was still spinning from what Cas had said. I pushed the door open with my shoulder and made my way to the kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter.

The bunker was quiet as usual, save for the faint sound of metal clicking in the lounge room. I peeked in to see Dean sitting on the couch, a gun laid out in front of him as he cleaned it with practiced ease. His bandaged hand moved a little slower than usual, but he didn’t seem to care.

As I started unpacking the bags, I felt his eyes on me. A few seconds later, I heard the soft scrape of the gun being set down on the table.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Dean asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

I froze for a moment, my hands still on a carton of eggs. “What do you mean?” I replied, trying to sound casual.

Dean leaned back, crossing his arms. “I know that look. Something’s weighing on you. What happened?”

I sighed, abandoning the act. There was no point in trying to hide it from Dean—he could always see right through me. I turned to face him, leaning against the counter.

“Cas came to see me,” I said quietly.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his expression shifting from curiosity to something darker. “What did he say?”

I hesitated, but then the words came spilling out—the whole conversation, God’s so-called plan, and how we were apparently breaking it. By the time I finished, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, though I blinked them back.

Dean stood up, pacing a few steps before turning to face me, his green eyes sharp. “You can’t listen to a word Cas says about that crap. He’s been too close to God’s playbook for too long—he doesn’t get it. We’re not pawns, Y/N. Not you, not me.”

“But if we’re really screwing up some grand plan—”

“I don’t give a damn about his plan,” Dean cut me off, his voice firm but not unkind. “I care about you. About us. Whatever comes at us, we’ll handle it. Together.”

I looked at him, his determination so unwavering that it made some of the tension in my chest ease.

Dean must have noticed, because his tone softened as he added, “Look, Sam and Theresa are out on their date night. Maybe we should have one too.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, feeling a small smile tug at my lips despite myself. “A date night? In the bunker?”

“Why not?” Dean shrugged, his usual cocky grin starting to appear. “I’ll grab some beers, we’ll put on a movie, and it’ll be just as good as anything those two are doing.”

I reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tray of ground beef. “How about we start with this? I make a killer burger.”

Dean’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, sweetheart, if your burgers are half as good as your chili, I’m sold.”

“Are you really still going on about my chilli all these months later?”

I laughed softly, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “Just wait. You’ll be begging me to make these every week.”

As I started pulling out spices and ingredients, Dean moved closer, grabbing a cutting board and a knife. “Alright, chef, tell me what to do.”

“Step one,” I teased. “Don’t get in my way.”

Dean chuckled, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

For a little while, the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling meat and lighthearted banter, the weight of Cas’s words temporarily pushed aside. And for now, that was enough.

…

The smell of freshly cooked burgers filled the bunker as Dean and I settled on the couch, plates balanced on our laps. The Nightmare Before Christmas was playing on the TV, and I couldn’t help but hum along to the opening song between bites.

Christmas was just a few weeks away, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a little spark of excitement. I glanced over at Dean, who was completely focused on his burger, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You know,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence, “we should really do something for Christmas this year.”

Dean arched an eyebrow at me, chewing thoughtfully. “Like what?”

I grinned. “The whole shebang! Christmas shopping with Sam and Theresa, decorating the bunker, cooking a huge lunch—turkey, ham, roast veggies, all of it. Eggnog, gingerbread, maybe even one of those cheesy holiday movies Sam secretly loves.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Cheesy holiday movies, huh? Can’t wait to see Sam squirm through that.”

“Exactly!” I said, my excitement growing. “It could be fun, Dean. We’ve never really done Christmas right, you know? Not like this.”

Dean tilted his head, his smile softening as he watched me ramble on. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

“Not yet,” I admitted, taking another bite of my burger. “But I will. I was thinking about dragging Sam and Theresa out to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow. There’s gotta be a few stores still decked out with trees and lights. We could pick up some decorations for the bunker.”

Dean shook his head, his grin turning into a smirk. “Decorating the bunker? You do realize this place isn’t exactly a Hallmark set, right?”

“That’s the point,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “It needs some holiday magic. Imagine it—twinkling lights in the library, a tree in the corner, stockings hung up in the war room.”

Dean let out a small laugh, shaking his head again, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked at me, his expression softer now. “You’re really into this, huh?”

“I am,” I admitted, glancing back at the TV as Jack Skellington started singing about Christmas Town. “I just think we deserve to have something nice, you know? After everything.”

Dean didn’t respond right away, and when I looked over, he was staring at me, his burger forgotten on his plate.

“What?” I asked, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice low. “Just... you’re really something when you’re excited like this.”

My cheeks warmed, and I quickly turned back to the screen, trying to hide my smile.

Dean might not have been entirely convinced about the Christmas spirit, but I could tell he didn’t mind indulging me. And for now, that was enough.

…

The plates were abandoned on the coffee table, the remains of our impromptu dinner forgotten as Dean and I found ourselves tangled up in each other once more. His lips on mine, the warmth of his touch—it was all-consuming, electric.

Dean grabbed my hand and lead me to his room, the world outside the door fading away as we gave ourselves over to each other completely. He freed me from my clothes, allowing his hands to trace each inch of skin that was revealed to him. Once he had me completely nakes he pushed me gently onto his bed, hovering above me. He connected our lips in a hungry kiss, stealing my breath away. He kissed slowly from my neck down to my breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth sucking and licking before moving on to the next. I bit down on my lip to keep from being loud.

“It’s just us here sweetheart no need to be quiet” Dean looked up at me like a man starved of touch.

He returned to my breasts earning a breathy moan. I could feel him smile against my nipple as he kissed in and moved on to kiss down my stomach. He reached the place I needed him most. He spread my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them out to the sides opening me up in front of him. He licked his lips before placing a soft kiss on the sensitive bud waiting for his attention.

“If you want me to stop just say so” Dean looked up at me. I mustered up small nod before looking off to the side now embarrassed to be naked in front of Dean while he was still completely clothed.

Dean made himself comfortable between my legs before placing my legs over his shoulders. He licked one line up my folds causing me to shake and let out a small squeal mixed with a moan. He immediately went to work licking and sucking at my clit causing my back to arch. The moan that escaped my lips was nothing short of pornographic. Dean knew what he was doing with his tongue and mouth. And he knew it. I could feel the smirk that was plastered on his face. I could feel the heat building in my belly.

“D..Dean I’m going to…” The band tightening in my belly snapped before I could saying anything more. I could feel my legs shaking. I closed my eyes and let the pleasure wash over as Dean worked me through it.

Dean stood up and told me to move up the bed as he pulled his shirt off. I wriggled up the bed not taking my eyes of Dean, wanting to see every part of him. As he pulled down his pants his dick now free from its denim cage sprung up and smacked his stomach. I was far from a virgin but never had I seen a dick so long and thick as his. I was sure he was going to break me. Dean, however, quickly ruined the moment when he hit the ground with a crash as he tried to remove his boots. I couldn’t help but laugh at him. He gave me a cheesy grin from the floor as he got his boots and jeans off. Once he was completely stripped he climbed onto the bed taking his place in between my legs.

“Just remember if you want me to stop…”

“Just say so I know” I smiled up at him.

Dean dipped his head, capture my lips in a kiss full of love. While I was distracted by his lips he took the chance to sneak a hand between us and guide himself into me. The sudden stretch caused me to gasp, throwing my head back onto Deans pillows. Dean stilled once he was completely inside giving me a chance to adjust. But now being in this position I froze up. I think Dean could feel something was wrong. He leaned down and kissed me. The movement caused him to move inside me sending an intense feeling of pleasure ripping through me. I moaned into his mouth as he began to move. Slowly at first but soon he began to move faster. Soon he had my legs up over his shoulders as he found that one spot deep inside me that he hit with precision with each thrust of his hips. Before I knew it I was a babbling mess under his as my release hit me for the second time. Deans movements became sloppy and I felt his hips come to a stuttering holt as his own release washed over him.

 The way he held me, whispered my name like it was the only thing that mattered—it was as though all the tension, all the fear and doubt, had melted into something softer, something unbreakable.

Afterward, I lay against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers lazily trailed up and down my arm, a comforting gesture that made me feel safe, grounded.

“Never thought we’d get here,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dean chuckled softly, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek. “Yeah, well... guess the universe finally got something right.”

I smiled, closing my eyes. “Let’s not jinx it.”

His arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “Not a chance.”

Before long, the comforting rise and fall of his chest lulled me into sleep.

A sound startled me awake—a flutter of wings that sent my heart racing. My eyes flew open to see Castiel standing at the foot of the bed, his expression a mix of disappointment and worry.

“Cas,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with sleep. Dean didn’t stir beside me, and I turned to him in confusion.

“He won’t wake,” Cas said flatly, his gaze steady on me. “I’ve ensured it.”

My stomach twisted at his words. “What do you want?”

Cas stepped closer, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m very disappointed in you, Y/N. And I’m scared.”

“Scared?” I echoed, sitting up carefully. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t bear the thought of seeing my daughter or my granddaughters hurt,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

I froze, the words crashing over me like cold water. “Your what?”

Cas sighed, his usual stoicism faltering. “When you were born, you were dead. There was no life in you. Your parents prayed, begged for a miracle... and I answered. I gave you part of my grace to save you, Y/N. You are my daughter—a Nephilim.”

The world tilted on its axis, and I stared at him, unable to process what he’d just said. “I’m... I’m a Nephilim?”

“That is why you heal so quickly,” Cas explained, his tone measured but soft. “It’s also why God’s plans have been so... complicated where you and Dean are concerned.”

“But the granddaughters—”

“You’re pregnant,” Cas interrupted, his voice low. “With identical twin girls.”

My breath caught, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. “That’s not possible. I can’t—”

Cas held up a hand. “You can. And you are.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to know what’s at stake,” Cas said, his tone firm now. “And because... I’ve said too much already.”

Before I could say another word, he vanished, leaving only the faint sound of wings in his wake.

“Cas?” Dean’s groggy voice broke the silence, and I turned to see him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “I heard him. Where is he?”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The weight of Cas’s revelations had left me rooted to the spot. Dean frowned, his gaze locking onto mine.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I stared at him, wondering how I was supposed to tell him what I’d just learned.

Oh no mistakes were made! Tumblr what have you done to me!!!! I confidently finished and submitted my Web Design assignment only to then go back and look at the Tumblr screenshot I used for my example and welp....

I am mortified! My Uni assignment has now been smut bombed and by Eddie Munson none the less!

I literally took a whole University Unit on fandom, about Rice, The X-Files and Star Wars fiascos and now how some companies will take peoples fanart and use it has free advertising for the movie/TV show/game or whatever else. When I first started making fan content I would only share it with my close friends. I had a folder I carried everywhere with my physically copies of fanart and fanfics in it. I never kept any digit copies of any of it. I had 12 stories, 3 poems and 7 drawings in my folder the day my school principle destroyed all of them. A fellow student took my folder and handed it to a teacher saying I had brought 'porn' to school. It was an X-Files fanfic and the porn was my badly described take on the scene where Moulder is directed to the warehouse of human clones or human/alien hybrids I don't quite remember. My principle gave me a huge lecture about how I was infringing on copyright and that because I printed the story off at school I had opened them up to a lawsuit too. I started a new folder that I kept hidden in a hole behind my bed. It took me like 5 years to even considering sharing my work again after that and even then I use to put massive disclaimers on everything.

So I’m on AO3 and I see a lot of people who put “I do not own [insert fandom here]” before their story.

Like, I came on this site to read FAN fiction. This is a FAN fiction site. I’m fully aware that you don’t own the fandom or the characters. That’s why it’s called FAN FICTION.

A Well Kept Secret

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

1.3k word count

Summary You and Spencer have been in a secret relationship for a year. When you unexpectedly become pregnant it becomes harder to keep that secret.

fluff

Warnings none

Part 2

The suffocating fluorescent lights of the apartment were a welcome change from the sterile white of the doctor's office. Relief washed over You as you closed the door behind you, the positive pregnancy test clutched tight in your sweaty hand. Today was the day you'd tell Spencer.

Your little secret – the apartment you shared just a few blocks from the office – felt like the perfect place to break the news. Stepping into the dimly lit haven, you called out, "Honey, I'm home!"

The sounds of rustling papers filtered from the living room. Spencer emerged; a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose. A tired smile spread across his face as he saw you. "Y/N! You're back early."

"Yeah," you said, you voice uncharacteristically small. "There's something I need to tell you."

Spencer's brow furrowed. He set his papers down and walked towards you, his concern evident. You took a deep breath, you heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"So, remember how I wasn't feeling well and left work early yesterday?" you started, your gaze flickering around the room before settling back on him.

"Of course," Spencer said, his brow furrowing further. "Everything okay?"

"The doctor figured out why I've been feeling so..." you hesitated, a shy smile playing on your lips.

Spencer reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek. "So? Why have you been feeling so...?"

"We're going to be parents, Spence," You blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in a rush.

Spencer froze, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly. The colour drained from his face, replaced by a mixture of shock and something that looked suspiciously like fear.

"Pregnant?" he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. It was cold and clammy. "Yeah," you said softly. "A month and a half."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. You could almost hear Spencer's mind racing, cataloguing the implications, the potential career consequences.

"But... but what about work?" he finally choked out. "No one knows we live together, let alone..."

You squeezed his hand gently. "I know, Spence. But they don't need to know everything, do they? We can figure this out, together."

A flicker of hope ignited in Spencer's eyes. He looked at you, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. "Together?"

"Of course," You said, a warmth spreading through your chest. "We're in this together, you and me. We always have been, even if no one else knows it."

Spencer pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. Relief and a touch of nervous excitement mingled in the air of your secret haven. The future was uncertain, but for now, you had each other, and that was all that truly mattered.

The morning commute was a blur. You sat beside Spencer in the passenger seat, the weight of the previous night's conversation heavy in the silence. You stole a glance at him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel.

You knew his reservations stemmed from your hidden relationship, the unspoken pact you'd made to navigate the professional world without letting your personal lives interfere. Now, the carefully constructed barrier threatened to crumble with the news of your baby.

"You okay, Spence?" you finally asked, your voice breaking the tense silence.

Spencer startled, then let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, just thinking." He shot you a quick, worried smile. "About everything, I guess."

You understood. This wasn't just about a baby; it was about a complete overhaul of your carefully constructed world. Your secret apartment, your stolen moments of normalcy, all of it would have to be re-evaluated.

"We'll figure it out," you said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. The touch seemed to ground him, a silent reassurance in the face of the unknown.

He offered a small smile back, his grip tightening on yours for a brief moment before he focused back on the road.

The rest of the ride was filled with a comfortable silence. As you pulled up to the familiar brick facade of the FBI headquarters, You couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension. Today wasn't just any day at the office; it was the day your carefully constructed world would begin to shift, one way or another.

Stepping into the bullpen, a familiar buzz of activity greeted them. Morgan was already at his desk, barking into a phone, while JJ, Garcia and Emily chatted by the coffee pot. You offered weak smiles, your mind preoccupied with how to navigate the coming day.

Settling into your own workspace, you found yourself lost in a case file, the words blurring before your eyes. Every few minutes, you'd glance up at Spencer, who sat across from you, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked on a profile. Your usual comfortable silence felt strained now, laden with unspoken anxieties.

Just as you were about to reach out to Spencer, the bullpen door swung open, and Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner entered. His sharp gaze swept across the room, landing on you for a brief moment before moving on. You felt a familiar knot of tension tighten in your stomach. Telling Hotch about the baby, even without revealing Spencer's involvement, was another hurdle you needed to overcome.

"Sir, could I speak with you for a moment?" You requested standing from your desk.

Hotch nodded, gesturing for you to follow him into his office. Briefly explaining the situation and your concerns about inter-office relationships, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders when Hotch confirmed it wasn't against protocol as long as you remained discreet.

“Why do you ask? Are you seeing someone in the office I should know about?” Hotch asked arching an eyebrow.

“Oh no Hotch but I did loose a bet with Spencer so thank you for that” You smirked at him.

“Let it be a lesson never to place a bet with Spencer” Hotch chuckled.

Elated, you returned to Spencer, a grin plastered on your face. "Hotch says we can be together, as long as we keep things private."

Spencer, however, remained apprehensive. "You told him?"

"No, I just asked about the dating rules," You clarified. "But I will have to tell him about the baby”

"I know" Spencer sighed. "And for now, let's keep me out of it."

You, understanding his reservations, agreed. You returned to Hotch’s office this time revealing your pregnancy but withholding the father's identity. Hotch, to your surprise, offered congratulations and even a hug.

"Does this have anything to do with the question you asked earlier?" he inquired, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Uh no not at all” You giggled at the awkwardness of the situation.

“So whose the lucky guy?” He chuckled.

"He wants to keep it quiet for now," You explained.

"Fair enough," Hotch said, a playful smirk crossing his face. "Just as long as it's not Morgan or Rossi."

"Definitely not!" You chuckled. "Wait, so you'd be okay if it was Reid?"

"He's intelligent and dedicated," Hotch admitted. "Besides, Morgan wouldn't settle down, and Rossi's a little past his prime."

"What about you?" You teased.

Hotch chuckled. "We wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Returning to the bullpen, you announced you pregnancy to you colleagues. While everyone showered you with congratulations, they were naturally curious about the father. They had never heard of you seeing anyone and they knew you weren’t the type to just sleep around.

"His name is Spencer, but don't worry, it's not our Spencer," You assured them with a wink.

"Well, whoever he is, we'll have to meet him," Rossi declared, a glint in his eyes.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Just to make sure the newest member of the BAU family is being well looked after," Rossi winked.

The day continued with a new case, and although You was relegated to paperwork due to your condition, a warm feeling bloomed within you. You had a supportive team, a loving partner, and a future filled with exciting possibilities.

Thought it was about time I gave an update/schedule. I'm going away for a week over Christmas to see family but I'm hoping to post something New Year's Eve before I hit the town. I'm not going to give exact dates for when I'll post parts cause lord knows I will never stick to it lol. Also I'm working on a novel that I hope I'll actually finish this time and get published so we'll see how that goes I guess. So for now this is the plan:

Dec 2023:

Supernatural: Hunting, Living and Love (SHLL) Part 3

Dating Oddessy: Eddie

Jan 2024:

SHLL Part 4

Dating Oddessy: Jim

SHLL Part 5

Dating Oddessy: Billy

Feb 2024:

SHLL Part 6

Dating Oddessy: Jonathan

SHLL Part 7

I also have a bunch of other ideas that I may drop in here or there just to break it up a bit. If you have any requests let me know and I'll add those to my list too!

Objection! Part 6

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Sonny’s P.O.V

I woke up with a stiff neck and a sour mood. The cot in the bunk room wasn’t exactly built for comfort, but it worked when you needed a quick nap. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had taken up permanent residence there, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours, tops. Not enough, but it’d have to do.

Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed my jacket and headed back to the bullpen. The precinct was buzzing, the low murmur of voices filling the air. Olivia was leaning over Amanda’s desk, talking quietly, while Finn stood off to the side nursing a coffee. Rafael was pacing with his phone in hand, looking as sharp and stressed as ever.

But something was off. It took me a second to realize what it was. Or rather, who was missing.

“Where’s Amaro? And Y/N?” I asked, my voice cutting through the noise. Everyone paused for a moment, looking at me.

Finn was the first to answer, taking a sip of his coffee. “Think they went chasing a lead. Y/N was deep in something earlier. Looks like she had a breakthrough.”

I frowned. “A lead? Nobody told me about a lead. When’d they leave?”

Amanda shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Maybe an hour ago? She and Amaro were at the board, talking about something. Didn’t catch the details.”

That didn’t sit right with me. Y/N wasn’t the kind of person to rush off without looping someone in, but Amaro? If they went off together, it had to be important. My gut twisted, that bad feeling I couldn’t quite name settling in.

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Y/N.

“Hey, where are you? Finn says you and Amaro went chasing a lead. Let me know you’re okay. Don’t make me come find you.”

I hit send and stared at the screen, willing it to light up with her reply. Nothing. The seconds dragged on like hours.

“Anyone hear from them since they left?” I asked, glancing around the room.

Rafael looked up from his phone, frowning. “No, but that’s not unusual. They could be following up on something.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to convince myself that was all it was. But my gut wasn’t buying it.

Olivia must’ve noticed the look on my face because she walked over, her expression soft but serious. “Sonny, what’s going on? You think something’s wrong?”

I hesitated, weighing my words. “I don’t know, Liv. It just doesn’t feel right. Y/N’s not impulsive, not like Amaro. If they went after something, it must’ve been big. And if they’re not checking in…”

Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder. “Let’s give it a little more time. If we don’t hear from them soon, we’ll start tracking them down.”

I nodded, but the knot in my stomach wasn’t going anywhere. Something was wrong—I could feel it. And I couldn’t shake the thought that whatever Y/N and Amaro had gone after, they were in way over their heads.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

The air down here was suffocating, thick with the stench of mildew and something far worse I didn’t want to identify. My flashlight cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the crumbling walls around us. Ahead, the tunnel forked into three paths, each one darker and more foreboding than the last. The labyrinth’s promise was clear: choose wisely or regret it.

Nick stood next to me, his flashlight aimed toward the middle path. His jaw was tight, his usual calm demeanor strained by the growing unease that matched my own. I could tell he didn’t like this any more than I did.

“So,” I said, trying to mask the anxiety creeping into my voice. “Which way do you think our mystery sadist wants us to go?”

Nick sighed, stepping forward to peer into the tunnels. “None of them, if he has his way. He’s probably banking on us wasting time or walking into a trap.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. It’s not like we’ve got much else to go on.”

He reached for his phone, his fingers moving quickly as he pulled up a map app. “Let’s see if we can make this easier. Maybe there’s an old city blueprint or something we can—” He stopped, frowning at the screen. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I glanced over his shoulder. The screen showed a single, dreaded message: No Service.

“Perfect,” I muttered, my frustration boiling over. “Because of course the psycho picked a spot with zero reception.”

Nick slid his phone back into his pocket, his shoulders tense. “We’re on our own here. No maps, no backup, no way out but forward.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting real tired of forward being such a bad option.” I swung my flashlight across the tunnels again, trying to make sense of the choice in front of us. The left path was narrower than the others, with streaks of something dark smeared along the walls. The middle one had standing water at the entrance, the faint ripple of movement suggesting something alive down there. The right path looked the most “normal,” if you could call it that, but the air felt heavier when I aimed the light toward it.

Nick stepped back beside me, studying the same paths. “We can’t just pick one and hope for the best. There’s got to be a clue, something we missed.”

I turned in a slow circle, scanning the walls and floor for anything—anything at all—that might point us in the right direction. My eyes caught on a faint marking near the base of the left tunnel, a symbol scratched into the concrete. A spiral.

“Hey, look at this,” I said, crouching down to get a closer view. “It’s the same symbol that was on the last clue. The one on the note.”

Nick knelt beside me, studying it. “You think it’s pointing us this way?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just another trick.” I glanced down the tunnel, the beam of my flashlight barely cutting through the gloom. My stomach churned at the thought of what might be waiting for us.

Nick stood, his voice firm. “We’ve got to make a call. If we wait too long, he’s going to start wondering why we’re not moving.”

I nodded, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Alright. Left it is. But if this spiral ends up leading us straight to whatever nightmare this guy’s cooked up…”

Nick gave me a grim smile. “Then we do what we always do—figure it out and fight our way through.”

I tried to take comfort in his steady presence, but as we stepped toward the left tunnel, my gut was screaming that this was exactly where he wanted us to go.

…

Sonny’s P.O.V

Five hours. Five hours since anyone had last spoken to Amaro or Y/N. I’d been staring at the board, trying to piece together what she might’ve seen. My coffee had gone cold hours ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every clue, every detail—none of it was adding up, and it felt like the answers were just out of reach.

“They’ve been gone too long,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. My voice broke the silence in the bullpen, making everyone glance up. “What the hell did Y/N see?”

Finn, leaning against the edge of his desk, finally spoke up. “The only thing all the dead ends had in common? Each spot had an entrance to an old, unused sewer system. That’s all I got.”

I blinked, my mind racing as I turned back to the board. Sewers. I should’ve seen it earlier, but everything else—the dead ends, the letters, the missing teens—had been such a distraction.

Before I could say another word, Rafael stood abruptly, his face pale as if something had just clicked in his mind. “That’s where they are,” he said, his voice sharp with certainty. “The tunnels.”

Olivia straightened, her expression turning grim. “You’re sure?”

“Think about it,” Rafael said, gesturing to the clues on the board. “The guy keeps sending us to places connected to these tunnels. He’s been teasing this the whole time. If Y/N figured it out, and Amaro went with her…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “That’s where they are.”

I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, adrenaline kicking in. “Then we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

The bullpen came to life around me. Finn grabbed his coat, muttering something about knowing the nearest access point. Olivia called for patrol officers to stand by in case we needed backup. Rafael looked like he was trying to keep his calm, but I could see the tension in his hands as he adjusted his tie.

“Alright,” Olivia said, her voice steady but firm. “We stick together. If they’re down there, we find them and bring them out.”

I nodded, clutching my phone tightly as we headed for the door. Every step out of the precinct felt like it took too long, but the thought of Y/N and Amaro down in those tunnels kept me moving.

I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut, the one that had been eating at me since I woke up. They were in trouble—real trouble—and if we didn’t find them soon… I didn’t want to think about what might happen.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

My legs ached, and my back wasn’t doing much better, but the adrenaline kept me moving. The tunnel seemed endless, the walls closing in more with every step. Nick and I had been at this for what felt like hours, shining our flashlights into every crack, crevice, and too-small offshoot we passed. Each one was a dead end. We’d check, just in case, but nothing. No teens. No way out. Just more darkness and the echo of our footsteps.

The tunnel finally widened ahead, revealing another fork—this time, two paths stretched into the gloom, one veering left, the other right. I stopped, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, and turned to Nick. “Well, here we go again. Left or right?”

He didn’t answer immediately, scanning the floor and walls like he was trying to read the mind of the psycho who’d set this up. I joined him, squatting down to inspect the ground for any markings, scuffs, or clues that might point us in the right direction.

That’s when I saw it. A faint scrape on the floor to the right, almost like something heavy had been dragged through. My stomach sank as I followed it with my flashlight, the beam catching on a glimmer of something small and metallic further down.

Nick was already moving to grab it, crouching down to examine it. When he stood, his expression was grim. He held up a bracelet—one of those cheap charm ones you find at gift shops. A tiny heart charm dangled from it, the kind a teenager might wear.

“This has to belong to one of them,” he said, his voice low. “The missing kids.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. The right path wasn’t just another tunnel—it was leading us to one of them. Maybe alive. Maybe not.

But then there was the left path, dark and foreboding, with no clues at all. The logical part of my brain screamed at me that it had to be the way out, the next step in the sick game we’d been pulled into.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. “So, what’s it going to be? Do we keep looking for a way out, or do we go after the kid?”

My heart pounded in my chest as I looked between the two tunnels. Left meant survival, maybe a chance to regroup and call for backup. Right meant walking headfirst into who-knew-what—probably a trap—but also a chance to save someone.

I turned to Nick, my voice steadier than I felt. “If that bracelet’s theirs, we can’t just walk away. We go right.”

Nick studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if this is another dead end, we’re turning around and finding a way out.”

“Deal.”

With one last glance down the left path, I turned toward the right, gripping my flashlight tighter as we stepped into the unknown.

…

Rafael’s P.O.V

We reached the third entrance, and it was the same as the others. Locked. Rusted. Impenetrable. The padlock stared back at me like it was mocking me, its cold steel glinting under the faint streetlight. I clenched my fists, my chest tightening with frustration.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered under my breath.

Olivia moved to inspect the lock, her flashlight steady in her hand. “This one’s been sealed for years,” she said, her voice calm. Too calm. “We’ll call Finn, see if he’s had better luck.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, the helplessness, the damned guilt—it boiled over. I slammed my fist into the door, the sharp clang reverberating down the empty street. The pain in my knuckles was immediate, but I didn’t care.

“Rafael!” Olivia grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “What the hell are you doing?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “This is my fault, Olivia. I should’ve stopped her. I shouldn’t have let her go chasing clues on her own, not even for a minute.”

“You didn’t ‘let her,’ Rafael,” she said firmly. “Y/N’s capable. She’s smart, and she’s with Amaro. She’ll be fine.”

The mention of Amaro made me tense involuntarily, and Olivia noticed. She always noticed. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she tilted her head, her tone softer but pointed. “This isn’t just about her being out there, is it? Why are you so worried about Y/N?”

I looked away, staring at the graffiti-covered wall beside the door, trying to will my emotions back under control. But it was no use. The truth had been clawing its way to the surface for months now, and there was no hiding it anymore.

“You care about her,” Olivia said, more an observation than a question. “No, it’s more than that. You’re in love with her.”

The words hung in the air between us, undeniable and suffocating. I ran a hand over my face, letting out a bitter laugh. “Does it matter, Liv? She doesn’t know. I never told her. And now—” My voice caught, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

Olivia’s expression softened, her voice gentle but insistent. “You’re going to tell her. When we find her, Rafael, you’re going to tell her how you feel.”

I shook my head, the thought of it almost laughable. “What if we’re too late? What if—”

“No,” she cut me off, her tone firm. “We’re going to find them. Y/N and Amaro are out there, and they’re alive. You don’t get to give up on them, and you don’t get to give up on this. On her.”

I looked at her, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Olivia’s smile was small but knowing. “You’re smarter than that, Rafael. You know she does.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. She wasn’t just saying it to reassure me—she meant it. And for the first time in hours, a spark of hope flickered to life inside me.

“Alright,” I said quietly, the promise forming in my mind before I could stop it. “When we find her, I’ll tell her.”

Olivia nodded, her hand briefly squeezing my shoulder before she stepped back toward the car. “Good. Now, let’s go find another entrance. We’re not stopping until we get them out of there.”

I followed her, the determination in her voice pulling me forward. No matter how many locked doors stood in our way, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I saw Y/N again—and told her everything.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight

Bobby coming up to Buck's side and Buck was holding his head wound*

BOBBY: Kid, What the hell happened

BUCK: See that pole?

BOBBY: yeah..

BUCK: I didn't