#I took my sleep medication last night just to see what it's like if I only take it when I need to... not a good idea! could barely get out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivwritescrappythings · 24 days

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set me on fire, i'll keep you warm

alpha!joel miller x omega!f!reader

You get stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm for longer than you anticipated.

an: this is my first a/b/o fic so it is probably weird and awkward, but i'm trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and write different styles of relationships!

tw: a/b/o/ dynamics, afab reader, fem reader, alpha joel, omega reader, marijuana use, joel is mean, angst, comfort, SMUT, this is an a/b/o fic so everything associated with that is included (knotting, mating cycles, heat, claiming bites, scenting), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, masturbation, dubcon

word count: 12.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

The night outside the cabin was quiet, the snow drifting down in the dim light of the backlit clouds. It was too late to be sitting outside like this, letting the cool air wash over you in an attempt to rid yourself of your bad dreams. Dark circles were stamped under your eyes as you self medicated, the deep skunky scent of weed wafting from your lips and into the evening.

Nightmares were a fairly common side effect of the apocalypse, so you didn’t bother with waking up Joel as you snuck past the couch he slept on. You’d be waking Joel up every night if you did that.

“What are you doing?” The groggy voice behind you makes you jump. Apparently tonight you had.

Joel’s voice startled you, nearly making you drop the joint as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your face already felt warm from your embarrassment at getting caught, the incriminating joint still between your fingers. The smoke curled around the two of you, drifting into the open door of the cabin.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, looking up at the alpha as he stood in the doorway. You had the collar of his thick, canvas hunting jacket turned up high to cover your scent glands, his smell strong enough to cover yours. It wouldn’t be smart to broadcast to anyone nearby that you were an unbonded omega.

Joel’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, illuminated by the crisp night. You knew the jacket swamped over you, the sleeves pushed up to expose your hands and the excess tucked beneath you as you sat. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, studying your exhausted expression with a touch of concern.

“Mhm, I can see that,” he drawled, his eyes flicking down to the joint in your hand. “You smokin' again?”

Your gaze subconsciously darted down to where his biceps bulged under his flannel. You swallowed thickly, looking back up at his shadowed eyes. “Just so I can fall asleep,” you mumbled, feeling like a teenager who’d just been caught by their dad. You took another greedy puff off the joint before he could say anything else, putting it out against the porch railing before tucking it into a rusty Altoids tin from which it came and into your pocket.

You exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as you stood, crossing the porch in just your socks and ducking past Joel inside the house. “Made sure your jacket covered my scent and everything, didn’t want any passers by to smell me,” you murmured as you squeezed by him. You smelled like weed and like Joel, the sweet scent that lingered on your skin only detectable if you got close.

The sound of Joel inhaling as you walked past him was audible, as if he was testing your method and making sure he couldn’t pick up your scent. You glanced up at him to see his nostrils flare before he schooled his face into a neutral expression.

He followed you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. "You know that stuff ain't good for you," he said gruffly, his eyes following your every movement.

You were shrugging his jacket off, hanging it back up on the hook next to yours. Your sweater was threadbare, on its last leg before you’d have to look for a new one in an abandoned house or store. “I know, Joel,” you murmured softly, brushing a hand over your face. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your freezing hands into your armpits.

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy, the buzz of being stoned making your movements more languid. “Only do it sometimes, just when I can’t sleep,” you said, trying to assure the alpha across from you.

Joel's expression softened at your words, but still, a hint of concern etched his features. The set of his jaw told you he knew what these sleepless nights did to you; the bags under your eyes and the fatigue in your movements didn't escape his notice.

"Sometimes is too much," he rumbled, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently brushing an errant snowflake off your face, his touch tender despite the roughness of his hands. You closed your eyes at the contact, his skin rough against yours before he pulled away.

"If you can't sleep, you should come to me. You know that, right?"

“Joel, s’okay, it doesn’t happen very often,” you murmured, stubborn as always.

You knew Joel could help you sleep in an instant, all it would take is you crawling on the couch with him and pressing your nose against his scent gland. It was one of the easiest parts of being an omega with an alpha around. But, you were stubborn to a fault.

The corners of his mouth tightened, and he let out a low growl. "I don't care if it's once in a blue moon or every goddamn night," he snapped. "You need to start relying on me more. I don’t know why you gotta deny your nature and act like you’re so goddamn tough. Stop being so damn independent all the damn time."

You huffed, not letting Joel sway you. His frustration was obvious, you could smell it mixing with the musk of his scent. “You wouldn’t say that to me if I was an alpha or a beta,” you bite back, brow furrowing. It was rare that Joel got mad at you like this–especially over something as stupid as being hard-headed. You’d been that way the whole time he knew you: an omega fighting her designation.

The day you presented as an omega you cried yourself sick. It was like your life had ended, every opportunity seemingly disappearing in an already difficult world after the outbreak. You were hellbent on proving yourself to be worth more.

Joel's jaw tightened as his eyes flashed darkly at your words. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was towering over you. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked softly, the sneer apparent in his voice. "It's different for you. You're an omega."

Your throat tightened, frustration cutting through the relaxed haze of your high. “If you don’t trust me to take care of myself, Joel, why did you take me on as your patrol partner?” you hissed, staring up into his gaze defiantly. You were starting to get emotional, tears stinging at the backs of your eyes as you tried to suppress them. Joel stood over a head taller than you, glaring down his aquiline nose at you as you argued.

His scent was strong in the small hallway, his chest puffing up as he cornered you near the wall. His arm shot out, palm pressing to the dilapidated wood paneling near your head.

"I brought you because I trust you to shoot straight," he retorted, his voice rough. "Not because I think you can handle yourself on your own!"

His words made you flinch, the hurt clear on your face. Your mind was reeling, struggling to process what he said as you balked at him. It dawned on you how stupid it was to think an alpha would trust you. To them, you’d never be more than just an omega even if you pushed yourself to the brink.

You didn’t give him an answer, slipping under his arm and heading to the small bedroom you occupied at the back of the house. Everything in you was screaming to hide, to make yourself small. Distress scent was already pouring off of you in waves, leaving the air bitter as you tried to hold the tears threatening to spill until you got behind the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.

—

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up, just that there was light streaming in through the aged blinds covering the window. The fire in your room must have gone out when you slept, the air was frigid as you sat up in bed. Peeking out the frosted glass revealed there was more snow on the ground than when you fell asleep—meaning another day of holing up in the cabin until it passed.

You had half the mind to hide in your room all day, not wanting to face Joel after last night. You cried yourself to sleep, betrayal weighing heavy on your heart. You still felt the sting of it, part of you wondering if he even respected you as a teammate or just thought you were a pathetic, bumbling omega he got stuck with.

If it wasn’t for your stomach growling, you probably would have stayed in hiding.

The door to the room creaked when you opened it, deciding to venture out to get water and something to settle your upset stomach. The light was dim out in the rest of the cabin, the dying embers of the fire casting an orange glow across everything. Joel was a lump on the couch, but you couldn’t tell if he was awake.

Joel hardly slept, guilt and worry gnawing at his gut. He had tossed and turned on the couch all night, listening to the sound of your sobs through the door until you finally fell asleep. If he could go back and take it all back, he would in a heartbeat.

It wasn't the creaking of the floorboards that woke Joel, but the faint scent of a distressed omega. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to see you quietly entering the kitchen. He watched you in silence, guilt-stricken features as he studied your careful movements. As he slowly rose from the couch, moving towards the kitchen in a silent prowl, his eyes never left you.

“You're not gonna eat just jerky all day, are you?" he asked gruffly, leaning against the kitchen door frame. You were gnawing on a piece of it, staring out the bay window over the sink in the long-abandoned kitchen.

In your haze, Joel managed to surprise you. You yelped at the sound of his deep voice, spinning around and falling back against the kitchen counter. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you said, finding your footing again. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned to look out the front window at the snowy landscape surrounding the cabin. “Just about gave me a heart attack.”

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Joel's lips as he watched you jump, a low, raspy chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Sorry 'bout that," he drawled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes followed your gaze out to the window, the snow falling silently outside.

You didn’t know what to say to him, your chapped lips pursed as the two of you stared at one another. He looked worse for wear, his dark hair was sticking up in every direction, his under eyes so dark they almost looked bruised.

He cleared his throat, the silence between you two deafening. "Can we talk?" he asked. He cringed at his own question, knowing that of course he wanted to talk, he knew he had to talk. He just didn't know how to start. He reached out towards you, but stopped himself halfway, his hand dropping limply to his side

You sniffled, running a hand over your face as you took a deep breath. “What if I said no?” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. The smell of your distress was all too clear, the acrid scent of it covering your normal honeyed-earth smell.

"Please."

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. The pleading tone in his voice surprised him, and he knew it surprised you too. He was an alpha, a strong and powerful one at that, he didn't beg.

But as he looked at you, at your exhausted frame and red-rimmed eyes, he didn't care. He'd beg for your forgiveness a thousand times if he had to. Crawl to you on his knees. It pained him to see you like this. Especially when it was his fault.

The sound of Joel’s deep, twangy, Texas-accented voice begging made one of your eyebrows arch. He never begged, he never had to before. Not alphas like him. You sighed, hazel eyes darting to look out the window over the kitchen sink at the snow. “I’m listening,” you mumbled.

Joel let out a breath through his nose, his heart rate returning to normal. At least you were giving him the chance to explain.

The only sound in the room while Joel put his words together was the floor creaking beneath you as you turned to face him again, watching his coffee-colored eyes nervously flit up to yours. It was times like this that made it hard to believe Joel was the alpha and you were the omega, when he’d snap and then come running back to you with his tail between his legs like a kicked puppy.

You used your arms to boost yourself onto the counter, feet dangling off as you settled on the cool tile. You were nearly Joel’s height this way, leveling the playing field a bit by making him look straight at you. You pulled a knee up to your chest, the other leg still hanging down as you mashed your cheek against your kneecap.

He took a step closer, standing in front of your bent leg now as he looked at you. His rugged features softened as he spoke, his voice gruff. "Look...what I said last night," he began, "It was really shitty, and I didn’t mean it, and I'm sorry."

He reached out, calloused fingers gently wrapping around your ankle, giving it a squeeze. "I just... I worry about you, that's all." His thumb pressed the wonky stick and poke tattoo of the omega symbol on the inside of your ankle. You’d given it to yourself when you were seventeen, some rebellious act of reclaiming your identity. Now it was just a faded memory of growing up in a quarantine zone.

Joel always had a hard time with words, expressing himself more through actions than any alpha you’d ever seen. You rarely shied away from his touches, coming to expect them over the past year the two of you had been assigned together as patrol partners.

You sighed, blowing air out through your nose as your head tilted. Joel stood close to you, your hanging calf pressed along his thigh as you met his gaze. “I know you worry, Joel,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “But you gotta treat me like a teammate, not like you’re my babysitter.”

He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting to the ground and then back up to you. "I never meant to make you feel like you were just some object, or incompetent. I just…” he sighs, struggling to find the right words. “You make me so damn frustrated sometimes."

You huffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to try to justify it, Joel,” you said, an exasperated tone in your voice. Of course he’d qualify it, find it wasn’t entirely his fault. “You reduced me to an incompetent partner, useless. Just an object for breeding,” you whispered, your glare hard. “Felt like you had no respect for me unless I was bending over for you and letting you fuck me.”

Joel bristled at the words, the sting of them hurting almost as much as the pain on your face. He clenched his hands into fists, his whole body tensing with the effort to keep the need to comfort you under control.

He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on you. "I do respect you, dammit," he growled. "You don't think I don't admire how strong and independent you are? If I didn't respect you and trust you to have my back, I would have found a new partner a long time ago."

“You said all I was good for was shooting straight, Joel,” you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. You worried your lower lip with your teeth, fingers tapping nervously against your bent leg. It felt like you were going against your DNA, standing up to Joel like this.

Joel ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions sinking in. He knew you were right. He knew he had crossed a line.

"You're right, it was unfair," he said, his eyes darting to the floor. "I was just frustrated, I was worried about you. This job, it's dangerous, and you've got such a damn stubborn, independent streak. You never ask for help, and I always worry I'm gonna wake up one day and find you not there, and it’ll be my fault for not being fast enough."

You huff, your expression softening slightly at Joel’s confession. You knew he was dealing with his own demons, his own reasons to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He was still standing between your legs, fingers looped around your ankle. “Joel,” you murmured, “I’m not running away or anything, I just was smoking a joint to help myself sleep.”

Joel looked up at you when you spoke, his gaze lifting from the faded tattoo. He hated how defeated he felt, and he hated how hurt you looked.

"Damnit, you don't need to do that. Why can't you just come to me when you can't sleep, and I can help you sleep the right way?" he sighed, moving in closer.

His frustration made you even more angry. “Fuck, Joel. Does the sleeping thing really bother you that much?” you huffed, moving further back from him on the counter and turning to look out the window. You felt queasy, chewing over the idea of telling him a bit of the truth. You decided to go for it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never scented an alpha before.”

The wind against the side of the cabin was the only thing filling the silence. Most omegas got scenting partners out of the way when they were teenagers, exploring their desires and learning what they liked in a mate. But you were in your late twenties and never tried any of it because you were too busy fighting your designation. You didn’t want any part of being an omega, even if that meant not experiencing things.

You didn’t even know what you were doing—didn’t even know where to start.

Joel's eyes widened when you confessed that you had never scented an alpha before. The revelation took him aback, making his breath hitch in his chest. His mind went through a whirlwind of thought, the realization that he would be your first alpha to scent you hitting him like a truck. He can hardly consider the fact that it was contingent on if you let him.

His omega had never scented an alpha before. The possessive instincts within him roared to life, clawing at the edges of his mind. No, you’re not his. He needed to stop thinking that.

"You never-" he began, his voice rough and strained. "You never scented anyone?"

Your cheeks erupted with warmth, embarrassment rocking through you. You ended up covering your face with your palms, not wanting Joel to look at you. “I’ve scented other omegas… betas.” It felt too submissive, too docile. You didn’t want to be like other omegas you saw in the quarantine zone and Jackson—stuck bending to their alphas’ every whim, you wanted to be free.

“So don’t get so offended that I haven’t scented you, it’s not personal.”

Joel's jaw dropped at your confession, his mind spinning. He had known you were stubborn and independent, but this? He had never heard of an omega not scenting anyone by the time they were out of their teenage years.

The way you covered your face, the smell of your embarrassment and shyness filling the air, made something primal stir in his chest. The thought of no other alpha ever having the opportunity to even scent you was both thrilling and infuriating.

“I just wanted someone to treat me like their equal,” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. It was hard for you to let the silence exist between you, always filling it. You had to move from the weight of Joel’s surprised gaze, making you turn to the window and stare out of it. The snow was so heavy outside the cabin that you could hardly see the trees. “I would do it, I just don’t want to become someone’s property. Which I know scenting is really different and far from mating and being claimed but it feels like the first step.”

Joel's heart ached as you spoke. He knew you wanted equality and respect, something he always thought you deserved. But to know that you had never allowed yourself to feel comforts like being scented because of fear of being treated like property was something he hadn't realized.

He leaned towards you, trying to see your eyes. "You know I wouldn't treat you like that, right? I would never make you feel less than an equal just because you're an omega," he said, his voice low and gentle.

“You tried to last night,” you mumbled, still facing away from Joel. You leaned your forehead against the window, the glass cool against your skin. That was what made it so difficult, you couldn’t forget the tone Joel spoke to you with—it was the same tone that alphas used to force omegas to submit. It rattled you.

Joel clenched his jaw at your words, guilt bubbling up in his chest again. He knew you were right, that he had tried to reduce you to just your designation, that he had spoken to you in the way that made most omegas crumble.

He moved closer, close enough that he could smell the sour scent of your distress again. Everything at him was screaming to make it better, to fix it.

"You’re right,” he admitted. “I was a dick, and I hurt you. I won’t do it again. I swear on Ellie’s life."

You felt warmth radiating off him and onto your back. “You really scared me, Joel,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you spoke. That was the truth of it, he scared you last night. “I know you can overpower me in a second if you wanted to—I really have to trust you not to. My life is in your hands.”

As you spoke, Joel’s heart ached. He knew you were right. You were strong and fierce, but he was an alpha, and he could overpower you in a heartbeat if he wanted to. He gently squeezed your ankle, tugging on it. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to press himself against you.

“I know, I know I did. I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, the nickname coming out before he could stop himself.

You sniffled, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know what to do, anxiety binding your chest in knots. Joel stood close to you, nearly touching your back as his hand flattened against the porcelain countertop. “Alphas don’t have to think about that kind of stuff, ya know? You don’t have to constantly worry about it. You could be alone for your whole life and it wouldn’t be a problem, it’s not the same for omegas.”

Your forehead was still pressed against the window pane, your body curling up to make you small. “Don’t gotta worry about an alpha forcing a claim on you, or killing you if you refuse. I’ve got to think about it all the time, even in Jackson. And then you wonder why I hate being an omega.”

Pain and sadness wrenched in Joel's chest as you spoke, his heart breaking at the vulnerability in your voice. He knew you were right—alphas didn't have the same worries and fears that you did.

He closed the distance between you, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned over the counter. He could feel the tremors in your body, and he desperately wanted to fix it, to make it better, to take your pain away.

"I know, baby," he murmured again, hooking his chin on your shoulder. The wiry strands of his beard curled against the collar of your sweater. "I know."

There was something in his solemn tone that made you break, a pathetic whimper rocking out of you before you could stifle it. He sounded so small, you never heard him sound like that before. It cracked a hole in your defenses just enough for the whole structure to come crumbling down.

You let out a sob, turning against Joel until you could bury your face in his chest. You cried into his flannel, fingers twisting in the well-worn material. He was still your person, your best friend in the whole world. You always turned to him.

Joel's heart ached as you buried your face into his chest. He could feel your tears soaking into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.

He held you tightly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He gently guided your head to rest against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," he whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Wanted to take it all back the second I said it, I was such an asshole."

You didn’t know how long you cried for, clinging to Joel like a life preserver in a storm. He held you close, his calloused fingers tangling in your hair and his chin resting on the crown of your head. You inhaled his scent from him, the deep, musky smell of an alpha, mixed with a spicy scent that was entirely Joel’s.

Joel held you through your tears, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. He inhaled deeply, his nose buried in your hair, the scent of your distress beginning to fade and be replaced by a more familiar honeyed earth scent.

It took you a while to calm down, making you hiccup as your tears eventually ran dry. His shirt was soaked with them, but he didn't care. He just wanted you to feel better, he wanted to fix whatever he had broken.

"You all cried out, darlin'?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle.

You nodded against Joel, sniffling still. “I know you’re sorry, Joel,” you mumbled, your voice soft and thick from crying. You still held onto him, face pressed into his sternum.

Joel's heart clenched at your mumbled words, his hold on you tightening slightly. "I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby," he said, his own voice rough with emotion. He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. Your body was pressed against him, warm and soft.

Joel’s voice sounded thick, his Texan drawl heavier. You just held on, trying to catch your breath. The wind sounded louder outside, buffeting against the roof and filling the silence between you two.

Your distress scent faded, only leaving your cloyingly sweet smell behind. Joel took another breath, inhaling. It was intoxicating, the way you smelled. Almost honeyed earth after a heavy rain, it was addictive. He always had a hard time focusing when he was close to you like this.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on you and you only. He continued to hold you, his fingers still running through your hair. "Feeling better, darlin'?"

You nodded, pulling away slightly. You wiped your face off, your skin damp from your crying. “Yeah, I’m better,” you whispered. You looked up at Joel for a moment, your eyes bloodshot and watery.

Joel's eyes roamed over your face, taking in your puffy eyes and running nose and swollen lips. You looked beautiful even when you had been crying, and it took all of his self-restraint not to pull you back against him again.

He nodded, his thumb coming up to lightly trace your wet cheeks, wiping away a few remaining tears. "I’m glad, darlin'," he murmured, his eyes not leaving yours.

Your lips were pursed thoughtfully, considering. “So you’ll start trusting me to handle myself?” you asked, trying to negotiate. “And I’ll rely on my instincts more,” you offered, still whispering. “Alright?”

Joel's heart was pounding in his chest as he held your ankle, his thumb rubbing over the faded tattoo there. He knew you were right, that he often let his protectiveness get the best of him when it came to you. He wanted to keep you safe at all costs, but sometimes in his efforts, he ended up stifling you.

He exhaled deeply, feeling the guilt and the weight of his actions settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew he would agree to anything you asked. "I will, but you have no idea how hard it is," he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

You nodded, tears still burning in your eyes. You needed him to agree, or this wouldn’t work. “Joel, should we change patrol partners?” you asked, tilting your head. You didn’t want to, but it also wasn’t safe for him to constantly put himself in harm’s way for you. “Someone easier for you to be around might be better. And I need someone who trusts me.”

Joel's stomach lurched at your question, the thought of being paired with someone other than you making his blood run cold. "No," he growled, his hand tightening around your ankle reflexively. "No. We're not changing partners."

He stepped even closer to you, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't want anyone else. I don't want you paired with anyone else. It's you and me," he insisted, his voice firm.

Joel crowded in close, pulling you toward the edge of the counter. Your knee pressed against his waist, his belt warm through the hole in the knee of your sweatpants. You clicked your tongue softly, your small hand smoothing along the back of his larger one. “S’okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, making sure he looked you in the eye. “You and me. Just gotta start trusting me.”

Joel's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body as he heard your reassurance. The feel of your hand against his, the way your knee rested against his hip, it grounded him, reminded him of what was important.

“I trust ya.” He leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against yours. "You and me," he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "Always."

He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, honeyed scent of you. It filled his senses, calming his nerves.

You basked in the closeness for a moment, letting your eyes slip shut as you inhaled his deep, heady musk of him. It felt resolved for now. “Alright big guy, let’s make some food,” you said, lightly patting Joel’s stomach with a hand before you twisted around him off the counter in the kitchen.

Being outside of Jackson made you miss electricity. Thankfully you knew there was a chance that there would be a storm during the scouting run, packing the truck with extra food and firewood that had now come in handy.

But, neither of you realized the storm would last for so long. It was three days that you two were stuck in the cabin, watching as the snow piled higher and higher. You weren’t waiting for it to melt, just to stop coming down so Joel could see your way out without crashing into a tree or a boulder.

You cracked two cans of Chef Boyardee that Joel found in one of the houses you picked through, setting them in the fireplace to warm as you sat cross-legged on the rug in front of it.

Joel was moving around behind you, the springs of the couch squealing as he sat on them. His gaze made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. But, he stayed silent—typical behavior for him.

You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was already nearing three in the afternoon. You must have slept in later than you expected, most of the day already having gone by. Honestly, it was better that way, you and Joel were starting to get a bit of cabin fever.

Silence permeated the room, brightly patterned oven mitts you found in a drawer covering your hands as you scarfed down the food. “So you used to buy this stuff at like, the store?” you asked, finally breaking the quiet as you turned to look at Joel.

You were little when the outbreak started, you didn’t remember much of what life was like before. It was normal for you to ask him things. Joel felt like a bridge to a different time.

It always caught him off guard when you asked about life before the outbreak—he couldn’t help but forget how young you were compared to him. He nodded as he chewed, glancing up to see you backlit by the fire. It made you look like you had a gold light surrounding you.

“Yeah, we used to buy everything at grocery stores,” he said, clearing his throat a bit as he talked. “There was more food than you could imagine, really, there was too much. A lot of it got thrown away.”

You listened with rapt attention, chewing the ravioli thoroughly. You really couldn’t imagine such abundance—even in Jackson everything was grown and made to satisfy the needs of a few seasons. Nothing ever went to waste, though.

“That sounds like a dream,” you said softly, finishing your food. You stretched out on your back on the rug, the fire warming your side as you got comfortable.

“These days it seems like one,” he mumbled, the sound of his spoon scraping the can filling the room. He couldn’t look at you directly, it felt like he was staring at the sun. It was hard not to go to you. His palms itched with the need to feel your fire-warmed skin beneath them.

Joel got up sharply, running his fingers through his hair as he looked out the window. “M’gonna go hunting before it gets too dark out,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he walked away from you.

You hummed your acknowledgment, watching Joel pull on his gloves and his jacket and sling his rifle over his shoulder. He smelled the collar of the coat, your scent probably lingered from when you’d borrowed it last night.

“Be careful,” you murmured, watching Joel from where you lay. You wanted to get up, go adjust his jacket and the twisted strap of his rifle. But you stayed where you were.

“Always am,” he said, giving you a once-over before heading out the front door and into the snow.

You busied yourself with melting snow to fill the big plastic bin Joel had dragged inside from the truck, cleaning the guns and mending some clothes with a needle and thread. Normally you’d go hunting with Joel, but you could tell he needed space for a bit.

The cold woke him up, made him feel like he finally got his head out of water. Being stuck in that cabin with you—with your smell—was driving him crazy. The two of you spent a lot of time together, but it normally was outside. This was the first time you’d been smashed together in close quarters for more than a day.

It was making him lose his mind.

He’d rather be shot than admit it, but he spent the first ten minutes of his hunting trip holding the collar of his jacket to his nose and fisting his cock. As soon as he realized he could smell you on the canvas, he’d been hard as a rock.

Joel never met an omega whose scent got to him as much as yours.

He held the aging fabric in a fist to his face as he stroked up and down his shaft. His eyes were screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard it ached. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine that his spit-slicked hand was yours, the image of you stretched out on the rug stuck in his mind. The fire illuminated the contours of your body, highlighting the swell of your breasts and the indent of your waist.

It wasn’t the first time he fantasized about you. It started with a dream of you crawling into his sleeping bag while you were out on a scouting mission, pressing up close and nuzzling into him like you were his, whispering everything you wanted him to do to you in his ear.

He woke up from that painfully hard, thankful that he was in the safety of his bedroom in Jackson rather than with you. But it spiraled viciously from there—even if he didn’t start off thinking of you, he would certainly get there eventually. Knotting you, biting you, fucking you. It all lived in his head.

Joel groaned, biting down on his lower lip as his cum spilled onto the snow. The tree he was leaning against was rough on the back of his head as he slumped a bit, taking deep breaths. It took him a few moments for the ringing in his ears to stop, head finally clearing as he tucked himself back into his pants.

With the edge taken off he readied himself, wiping the sweat off his forehead before grabbing his rifle off his shoulder. There was always some level of shame he felt after he jerked off to the thought of you, knowing he’d have to face you again and pretend nothing was amiss.

The wind howled as he walked deeper into the forest, pushing his thoughts aside as he started to look for any semblance of tracks in the snow.

—

The rabbit Joel killed was a decent enough dinner with the dried soup you brought from Jackson, the meal rich enough to lull you both into silence as you thumbed through old paperback books you found in a closet.

It was long dark when you told Joel you’d be going to bed, wishing him goodnight as you made your way to the bedroom. You were tired enough to fall asleep with little fuss, curling into the thick quilt and going unconscious almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

But, of course, you didn’t stay that way.

Screams filled the space around you. You were unseeing, choking on thick smoke. Opening your mouth to speak only resulted in a scream, the sound ragged and desperate. You could hear gunfire in the distance, but you didn’t know which way to look.

You were alone in this place, that much you could tell. The air was thick and warm—smelled like the omega shelter back in Vegas, you spent two years there. You reached out ahead of you into the darkness, hoping to find a wall or furniture or something. But it was empty, each step further into the black maw that seemed to have no ending.

The sound of clicking made your hair stand on end. You were all-too familiar with that sound, the labored breathing of an infected following it. You didn’t know which way to move, the clicking was directionless. There were no weapons, no way to run.

Clicking filled your ears, directly on top of you. Teeth tore into your flesh, ripping into your arm as—

You woke with a jolt, eyes wide in the darkness as you let out a choked gasp. Screaming still haunted the back of your mind as you sat up, trembling hands running over your face as you tried to enter the world of the living.

Your nightmares were relentless, memories of the fall of the Las Vegas QZ still fresh in your mind despite it happening a decade ago. The explosions that brought the walls down, the influx of raiders and infected alike. The smell of smoke and burning flesh and hair made you choke, forcing you out of bed as you fumbled for your Altoid’s tin on the nightstand.

Joel was asleep when you crept through the living room, good ear pressed into the cushion of the couch as you tiptoed past. The night was cold, Joel’s jacket back on your shoulders as you looked off the porch and pinched the joint between shivering fingers.

It stopped snowing, at least. The sky was cloudy, the moon peaking through sections of the clouds and making the snowy landscape glitter like diamonds. You and Joel would be able to leave in the morning.

A gust of wind made you shudder, the joint slipping from your fingers. It was a scramble to catch it, sending you to your knees. The wooden boards creaked as you tried to grab the remainder of your joint as it rolled. Your fingers just barely missed it, clutching the empty air as you watched it fall through a crack in the floorboards and disappear.

“Fuck!” you groaned, sitting back on your heels. You’d be awake the rest of the night, still feeling edgy and paranoid from your nightmare. You dragged your hands over your face, exasperated.

You headed inside, defeated. Joel’s jacket was returned to its hook as you looked at the way the fire lit up the room orange. The shadows flickered along the walls, sending shivers down your spine as you remembered waking up to the same glow in Las Vegas.

Then your gaze landed on Joel, still comfortably sleeping on the couch. One leg hung off, planted against the floor as his other foot was far over the edge—he was far too tall to be sleeping on the sofa.

You paused, chewing your lip as you stared at him. If you swallowed your pride, you’d be able to sleep tonight.

It was a hard thing, letting go of your fears. You realized if there was ever an alpha you’d bend to, it would be Joel. Something about him made you trust him, even when he was harsh and rude and distant, you still knew him inside out.

Part of you knew he was yours, even if you wouldn’t admit it. It was the talk of Jackson, Joel panting at the heels of some young omega like a lost puppy—you heard the whispers.

You decided to give him a chance.

He didn’t stir as you approached, wondering if you should wake him up or just clamber onto him. The couch was already cramped enough with just him on it.

You tentatively reached out to shake his arm, Joel’s dark eyes opening almost as soon as you touched him. He sat up fast, looking ready to fight as his gaze took in every inch of the cabin. You yelped softly, moving back from him in surprise.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice thick and raspy from sleep as he started to get up.

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted sheepishly, wringing your hands together in front of you. You felt silly asking him after everything that had happened between you two, but you promised him you’d follow your instincts more. His muscles tensed, you didn’t mean to cause such a commotion, your heart in your throat. “It’s stupid… I-I can figure it out.”

Joel relaxed, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he processed what you said. Your concern made him smile softly, a hand reaching out to curl around your shoulder. “Want me to help you sleep?” he asked, voice low. He treated you carefully, not wanting to scare you off.

He was honored you were even willing to ask.

You huffed softly, brows furrowing as you nodded. His grin stretched, heart thumping with excitement as he obliged you. He was relieved you were asking, wanting to be a good alpha for you. Wanting to help you. “We can stay out here or go to the bed, up to you, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes focused on you as you considered.

“The bed,” you mumbled, turning with little fanfare. Joel followed hot on your heels, warm at your back. You were anxious, breaths short and shallow as you tried to calm down.

It was no big deal. It was just Joel. Your Joel.

You got in first, curling beneath the bedding as you turned to look up at Joel. He was toeing off his heavy boots and taking off his belt, shining orange and yellow in the dim firelight. He looked formidable from this angle, tall and broad like most alphas were.

“You alright?” Joel asked, noticing the trepidation in your gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the old quilt as he leaned a bit toward you. “I can go back to the couch. Don’t want you to feel pressured—I won’t do nothing you don’t want to do.”

You hummed, nodding. “It’s just sleeping, right?” you whispered softly. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at Joel, laying back on the pillow.

He nodded. “As easy as closing your eyes,” he assured, his drawl thick.

You couldn’t imagine the luxury of sleep coming so easy, but you nodded anyway. Joel clambered into bed with you, sliding beneath the covers with a sigh of relief. You were sure it felt better on his back than the couch, watching him stretch as he settled next to you.

“Just gotta come here,” he said, looking over at you. You looked so sweet in the dim light, eyes wide and lips parted. He wanted to reach out and pull you over himself, instead he dropped his hand, fingers tapping the top of the comforter in anticipation.

You acquiesced, scooting over to meld into his side. His arm curled around you, occupying the void between your neck and shoulder. Joel was so warm, it felt like you were cuddling with a space heater as you settled into him. His big hand pressed between your shoulder blades, rolling you toward him and tucking your face into his throat.

It was so easy to get comfortable, melting into him as you took in a deep breath. You always thought he smelled so comforting, warm and a little musky. You only ever caught his scent in passing, never concentrated like this.

Joel felt how you relaxed against him, a smile on his face as one of your arms stretched across his chest and your nose pressed into the hollow of his throat. It took you a few deep breaths to completely let go of your tension, the set of your shoulders sagging against him. “That’s it,” he murmured as he rubbed your back.

It only took a matter of minutes for you to feel your eyelids drooping, your breathing slowing as you meld into him. “M’tired,” you mumbled, sounding groggy. Your words were muffled against his neck, lips ghosting over the delicate skin of his throat.

Joel chuckled softly, fingers lightly curling at the nape of your neck. “I know, baby,” he said. He glanced at you, dark eyes watching how your eyelids got heavier and heavier with every blink. He was surprised you were so willing to scent him, and how fast it worked.

He shifted slightly, bearded cheek pressing against the top of your head as he let his eyes shut. He felt so calm. The fitful sleep he normally experienced eluded him as you both finally drifted off.

—

Sleep became a sweltering, restless thing throughout the night. Dreams took on dark silhouettes, feverish shapes and flashes of light that seared and burned through your veins. You were weightless in the murky water surrounding you, fingers reaching for something. Someone to anchor yourself to.

Joel.

All your senses smashed into one, an explosion as life-altering as the Big Bang. You were a writhing mass of feeling that had you leaning into air heavy with tension and desire.

He was in it with you, just out of sight. You were so familiar with his presence, his smell, you always knew the weight of when he was nearby. Then, all at once he was with you in the dark place.

He was everywhere. The press and slide of heated skin where your bodies met and separated. You called for him, voice catching and dying in your throat before you had the chance.

You were burning from the inside, your spine an inferno as you reached for him in the dark. You knew he would fix it, knew he was what you needed. He would get you through the blaze and onto the other side.

He was a weighted shadow around you. Completely surrounding you, pulling you tight and grounding you to the anchor of his body. He kept you from drifting off into the fathoms of the abyss.

“Joel,” you whispered. You heard him respond to you in turn, the sound of your name like honey on his lips. The press of his mouth to your neck was like napalm and jolted you—

— and you woke with a rattling gasp, lurching where you lay in bed next to him. Sweat was beaded under your arms and around your temples, heat radiating from where Joel’s arms held you to his side.

You were panting into the cool air of the cabin, blinking until the unfamiliar shapes found themselves into focus once more. It was daylight, far past sunrise from the way sunlight was filtering through the blinds.

Your skin felt a size too small. Everything was uncomfortable and itchy as you stirred in Joel’s embrace, lifting your head out of his neck to take in deep breaths of clean air. It still carried his scent, permeating the room throughout the night. The area between your legs ached like a wound, your thighs squeezing together to relieve the throbbing.

Something made him wake, the air shifted and thickened around him as he slowly blinked into the morning air. Part of him almost surged out of bed, ready to defend and protect. But he understood on first inhale.

The smell of you was everywhere. It was all-encompassing and alluring, filling his senses all at once. Saliva was rushing to his mouth, your scent was an intoxicating thing that had his nerves alight. Desire took hold of him, real and rooted in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

You knew when he woke, you didn’t even have to look at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, turning away from him as your hand snaked between your legs to feel the mess of your sex. The predicament you put the two of you into was less than ideal. “I thought we had more time—I didn’t mean to.”

He was relieved. You were still in there, in your own mind enough to talk. His mind was slow to the uptake, blood rushing elsewhere as his thoughts turned over themselves. He was trying to remember from before, trying to figure out what it meant.

A soft heat. A distant memory from a junior high health class sprung into his mind. Not a hard heat brought on by a cycle. A soft one could be brought on by stress or exposure to an alpha, but they are shorter than a hard heat. Temporary. Sometimes a single knotting is enough to pull an omega from a soft heat unlike hard heats that last a week.

Joel cursed. It was too loud in the quiet of the room. His head was swimming from the force of the blood rushing to his cock, painful and aching as you moved away from his side.

“Gotta tell me right now, do you want me to go?” Joel asked, already rolling toward you. He followed the way your arm disappeared beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, your face twisted with both pain and pleasure.

It was a sight he only thought he would see in his wildest fantasies.

You were rigid and panting, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you tried to order your thoughts. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Joel helping you through a heat before. His rough and attentive hands guiding you through it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cutting into a whine. “You don’t have to—I just, I can do it on my own if I have to.”

The air between you was aflame before Joel kicked the quilt off and turned toward you. The need to give someone, you, what you needed was burning in him. It was a reminder that even after all this time he was still an alpha, he could still do this for you.

A wet stamp of his lips on your throat made you keen, tilting your head back against the pillow to give him more space. His hand curled around your jaw and pulled you to him, lips smashing together in a fervent kiss. It all felt like it was building for far longer than the last evening, the urgency as you opened your mouth against his was the culmination of nearly a year of pining.

The kiss deepened, his body tipping into yours and setting his skin on fire. Joel grabbed you with a wide hand, shifting you fully beneath him as his mouth dropped to your throat. He bit down hard enough to make you jolt, hands grabbing onto his biceps.

You were still mumbling into the air, shaking from holding back. Joel took your jaw in his hand and pressed his forehead to yours, his dark salt-and-pepper curls already damp from sweat. “Stop, baby,” he murmured softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I know what you need, I’ve got ya.”

It was easy to give in then, nodding as you both moved together quickly. Joel stripped you of your clothes, tossing them into the room as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his flannel. You wanted to feel his skin under your hands, trace the contours of his muscles and the shapes of his scars. He was deliciously broad, all realistic working-man muscles–he had never been the flamboyant type.

He couldn’t help but press his cock into the crease of your hip as his nose traced to the curve of your throat, taking in the sweet scent there. His knot ached with the friction, a groan pulled from his throat as he devoured your mouth.

A big hand gripped at your belly and then your hip, positioning you so he could settle between your bent knees. He blindly found his rightful place between them, wide quads pressing against your own. The breath rushed out of him as he reached down and felt your soaked cunt against his fingertips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Joel breathed against your jaw. You were in a haze, hardly processing what Joel was saying as you whined, lifting your hips to the press of his hand.

The air was punched out of your lungs as he dipped his fingers lower to collect the slick pouring from you, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers over your clit in swirling motions. His other hand flattened over your belly, holding you down to the mattress as he strummed his fingers over you as carefully as he would a guitar.

“Ohh,” you gasped, letting your eyes fall shut at the feeling as your hips stuttered in his hand. “Joel.”

It was all you could manage to say, all you could manage to think. His expression made your heart trip, your hands reaching for him without hesitation. Your fingers were still slick from when you’d touched yourself upon waking, petting them over his beard as your hips rolled against his hand.

Joel caught the smell of you on your fingers, his dark eyes flashing. His lips dropped open as he sought your hand, pulling your index and middle finger into the hot, wet confines of his mouth. You whined, brows drawing together as warmth covered your face and neck. Needy, wet licks of his tongue took the flavor right off your fingers.

He couldn’t help but jolt his hips forward, pressing the hard line of his cock against the back of your thigh. A deep sound rumbled from his chest as he let your fingers drop from his mouth, rocking you with his hips again.

The hand between your legs dipped lower, two thick fingers pressing into you. An urge he couldn’t articulate spurred him on, a sympathetic moan escaping him as he watched your back break on a whine. His eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as he felt the tight press of you around every curve and bend of his fingers.

You were painfully sensitive, already feeling yourself tightening around his digits as your thighs clamped around his forearm. It felt wonderful, transcendental, but it wasn’t enough, not right now. “Joel,�� you gasped, hips tilting fervently against his hand, “I need–”

He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. He knew, of course he knew.

There was an ache of emptiness as he pulled his fingers from you, taking his cock in his hand and smearing your arousal over it. His weight pressed down above you as he hitched your thighs over his, nudging his hips against yours. You keened at the blunt press of the head of his cock through the seam of your sex, the wet sound of your lips parting for him loud in your ears.

He teased you for a few moments, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit to make you whine sweetly. The grin on his face was diabolical, he knew it was mean to keep you on edge like this right now–but he couldn’t resist.

“Joel, fuck,” you groaned, digging your nails into his arms. He got the message, rocking forward to find purchase against you and filling you with a hard slot of his hips. You were wet enough to take him in one go.

You both stilled against one another, panting and holding on as you adjusted to the new sensation. Joel never thought in a million years that he would be so lucky. To have you pressed into the mattress beneath him was a dream come true, making him let out a strangled noise as he dropped his weight to his forearms to press his nose back against your neck.

Your cunt pulsing wetly around him brought the dying man back to life, pulling him in as your pants grew more desperate. He let instinct take over, pupils expanding like ink dropped in water as he set his teeth against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It wasn’t gentle. You didn’t want it to be. Joel grabbed you hard and fucked you senseless, driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The repetition of him filling you over and over was merciless, reducing you to mush beneath him as you forgot everything aside from his name. He nipped at your collarbones and anywhere else he could reach, each sharp feeling of his teeth drawing a ragged sound from you as your head pressed back into the mattress.

Joel was completely running on instinct, focused on filling you. To pin you down and knot you deep where you were begging for it.

The walls of your weeping cunt were starting to flutter around him, spine arching like a bow pulled too tight. He grabbed your hip with a wide hand, forcing you to take him deeper. You were whining, mumbling pleas Joel couldn’t quite understand as your hands spasmed on his arms. He pressed his lips against your neck, stamping wet kisses up and down your throat, licking at your heated skin.

He rutted his hips hard against yours, making shivers run up your spine as you tried to catch your breath. You felt frantic, euphoria clouding the edges of your vision as he worked you higher and higher. Everything in you became painfully tight, a strangled whine coming from your throat as your legs shook and squeezed around his hips.

The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot and practically making you pass out as Joel hitched your leg up, pressing into you as he grunted like an animal. Your whole body spasmed, cunt clamping down around him like a vise as you desperately tried to stay conscious.

Joel’s hips bunched against yours, his teeth setting into the junction of your neck. The tease of a claiming bite, just enough to make you whimper. He jerked back away from your neck at the last moment, lifting his weight off of you as his dark eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure was licking at the base of his spine, muscles of his abdomen knitting together.

He groaned, spilling inside you and grinding your hips together. Too caught up in his instincts, his head whipped to the side to bite the calf that rested on his shoulder, teeth digging into the meat of it. You keened, pleasure and pain mixing as he pressed in close as his knot began to swell inside you.

The soft sheets embraced his body as Joel collapsed, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you shared each other’s breaths. Your pussy was still pulsing around him, making him tremble as he panted into your throat. The ache of his knot inside you was satiating, drinking a cool glass of water after a long summer’s day.

You brought his mouth to yours, the two of you shifting so Joel was on his back and you sprawled over his chest. He was greedy, thick fingers snaking between your bodies to feel where you two were joined. A broken sound came from his mouth as he felt how you were stretched around his knot.

You traded breaths and open-mouthed kisses, breeching whatever semblance of a chance at a professional relationship after this. Joel’s big hand pressed against your spine, pulling your belly to his as he nuzzled at your cheek, the curve of the bridge of his nose mashing into your heated skin. His beard tickled your face, making you scrunch your nose on occasion as you stamped your lips to his.

He softened enough to slip out of you, making you whine as he dragged his fingers through the mess between your legs and pressed it back inside your cunt.

It was his intention to pull away, to go to the living room and give you some space now that you no longer needed him. But you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into his chest. Your knees hooked around his thighs, moulding your bodies together as the sun casted stripes across you.

You fell asleep that way, hopelessly tangled as your heart rates slowed and breaths grew heavy.

–

You needed him twice more, waking him up at sunset and in the middle of the night as the moon rose high in the sky. Each time was feverish, you woke him desperately by teething at his throat and pressing your bare pussy against the hard muscle of his quad. It was too easy to press his knot inside you both times, the two of you whispering nonsense to one another as you bedded down, Joel sucking lazily at your breasts before you licked and nuzzled the scoop of his throat.

He felt something terrifying as the moonlight illuminated you after taking his knot for a third time, spend and slick leaking from your puffy, abused cunt as you drifted off. The need to keep you wrapped around his heart like a cage, delirium making him want to hide you away in this cabin with him and never go back to Jackson.

He blearily reminded himself as sleep closed in that you just were in a difficult situation, he was the only alpha you could have turned to. It was nothing personal.

–

Waking up was a luxurious thing, rest seeped into the marrow of his bones as he stretched in the body-warmed sheets. He was lucky you were feverish enough to keep them both warm through the night, the fire in the hearth long burned out. Sun painted his eyelids orange, a hand scrubbing his salt and pepper beard as he finally opened them.

You were curled at his side, eyes open as you looked out the window. Upon his waking you turned to him, pensive and thoughtful as you took in his expression. You were returned to yourself again, calm without the storm threatening to swallow you whole.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you used his arm as a pillow. The smell of sex and sweat was starting to fade, the evidence only in the marks Joel had sucked onto your throat… and your chest… and your stomach… and your inner thighs. He blushed at how carried away he’d gotten, over a year of hidden-away need manifesting as him greedily taking all you were willing to give yesterday.

“You didn’t have to take care of me,” you whispered, the silence from Joel making you panic. He was just looking at you, his curls sticking up every which way as the back of his skull remained pressed into the pillow.

“‘Course I did, baby,” he murmured, his Texas drawl even thicker first thing in the morning. He reached out to you, gently squeezing your shoulder beneath the grasp of his fingers. “Wasn’t gonna let you suffer.”

You both stared at one another, neither of you daring to move first as though the dream would fall apart. Joel studied you just as you did him, taking in every twitch of your features as his brown eyes turned molten in the morning sun.

It was impossible to say who moved first. Your hand was on Joel’s jaw as his fingers pressed into your waist, lips smashing together in a fervent clash of teeth and tongues.

You straddled him this time, giving his aching back a break as you leaned over him and kissed his jaw. For some reason you felt more desperate now than in your soft heat, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you curled your fingers into his beard.

There were no excuses this time, truth revealed in the morning light. No biological need driving either of you together aside from your lust.

Joel’s big palm smacked the curve of your ass, making you squeak against his throat before a giggle poured from you. He grinned, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands as he pressed his lips anywhere they could reach.

“Can I?” you whispered, eyes wide as you pulled back to meet his gaze. You looked vulnerable, as though you thought he would reject your advances despite the fact that his cock was already swelling with arousal. He couldn’t even imagine a world where he could reject you.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathed, ready to burn the world for you if you asked.

You smiled, relief flooding through you. You didn’t think Joel would push you away, but you weren’t sure. Thank god you guessed right.

You spat in the palm of your hand, lifting yourself up just enough to reach between the two of you and take Joel into your hand. Without the haze of your heat blinding you, you were shocked by the size of him. It was hard to believe you were able to take his knot at all given the swell of him beneath your fingers.

Your eyes widened as you bent your head to look down at your hand. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you murmured, the awe in your voice making his chest puff with pride. You glanced back up at his face, lips parted as you experimentally stroked him along the entirety of his length.

Joel’s nostrils flared as his eyes closed, pride warming your belly as you repeated the motion. The skin of his cock was overheated and velvet-soft, a quiet moan falling from your lips as you watched his expression twist. Precome leaked down to mix with your spit, the head of his cock flushed–part of you was tempted to ignore the aching between your legs to get your mouth on him.

You weren’t that generous, though.

It took a bit of contortion to line Joel up with you before you were pressing down on him, the two of you gasping in unison at the stretch. There was a twinge of pain, but you were too impatient to let him open you up on his fingers. His hands were iron around your hips, the force of his hold almost bruising.

He could see all of you in the morning light, his eyes tracing up as though he was seeing God for the first time. Joel was mesmerized, watching the bounce of your breasts as you rode him, the slight jiggle of the soft flesh of your thighs and lower belly. Your eyes rolled back in a way that made his heart twist, the roll of your hips making him root deep.

Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the long-healed scars by knives as you moaned. Joel’s hands smoothed into the creases of your hips, gripping you tight as he brought you down on his cock, hips fucking up into you.

It took all your focus to stay on top of him, thighs trembling as you dug your knees into the soft mattress. Your breath hitched every time he hit the deepest parts of you, eyes rolling back and mouth lolling open. The pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost painful, making you want to sob above him.

Despite your desperate coupling over the past day, this felt entirely different. This was something new and unknown, your bodies moving together as hot flashes of euphoria drip through your veins.

Joel was in awe, the feeling of your soaked cunt gripping at him was almost too much to handle as the bed creaked beneath his back. He didn’t even realize how loud the springs were last night, too delirious to care. Each rock of his hips made your body pitch up before he shoved you back down in a dizzying loop that had you both groaning.

Everything in you tightened as he railed into you, nails digging into his chest as the feeling hooked into you and dragged you toward the undertow. You were at the edge of a cliff, balanced dangerously at the edge of it as you whimpered.

“God, can feel you squeezin’ around me,” he breathed, his voice strangled. He railed into you in a frantic rhythm, brows drawn together as he held you so tight you knew you would be sore.

It only took another one, two, three snaps of Joel’s hips against yours before you fell. You barely were able to catch yourself in time, your orgasm spreading through you like a lighting strike as your muscles convulsed and your cunt spasmed around his cock. He cursed, an arm curling around your back and making your spine arch as he held you against him.

Joel couldn’t get enough of you, the wet squeeze of your cunt felt like a heaven he shouldn’t have been allowed in. He was vaguely aware of his mouth running, your name spilling from his lips as he fucked into you, treating you like a toy for his pleasure as he manipulated your hips.

You took everything he gave you, leaning over him to press your mouth against his. You were moaning against one another, begging in whispers. It didn’t take him long to bring you down onto him and keep you there, teeth gritting and breath stuttering as he pumped you full of him. Joel let out a groan through clenched teeth, sounding like a wounded animal as he forced you into stillness for a few moments before letting go.

The rest was easy, you collapsed onto him as Joel kissed and nosed at your hairline. He scented you where he could, feeling possessive in the aftermath.

You didn’t talk for some time, communicating through touch as you let bliss keep your bodies bound to bed for a little while longer. But the sun was shining in the sky, the truck bed full of supplies for Jackson occupied the back of your mind as you looked down at Joel, soft and sweet.

“Let’s get going?” you asked, sounding more like a demand than a question. You didn’t know what else to do, lifting your chest from his as the air began to cool your sweat. Your legs were shaking like a colt’s against the floorboards, spend dripping down your legs before you wiped it away with your sweatpants. You would change into jeans for the drive home anyways.

Joel watched you with curious eyes, seeing the way you distanced yourself as you dug through your pack for fresh clothes. He stood, groaning a bit with the effort after spending so long in bed. It was only a few strides to get to you, pressing his body along your back.

“I want to do this your way,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips against the crown of your head. “I’ll do whatever you want, just wanna be yours.”

You felt giddy, a smirk quirked the edges of your lips that you tamped down, hands still clutching the sweatshirt and jeans like life preservers. “You mean that?” you asked, leaning back against him. “What if I never let you bite me?”

“Then I won’t bite you,” he said, no hesitation in his voice. He squeezed you once, letting you go and allowing the cold air rush against you once more. “Just think about it, you don’t gotta know now.”

Joel stamped a kiss along your hairline before leaving the bedroom.

Packing up went quickly, the two of you working in tandem to make sure everything was still bound down and tarped in the back of the truck before clambering in. You watched the cabin disappear in the rearview mirror, already feeling nostalgic as it vanished behind snow-covered pines.

It wasn’t a long drive, maybe five hours if Joel went slow. He was going to go slow, milking every moment he got you all to himself before returning to Jackson. It only took you ten minutes into the drive to slide across the bench seat, lifting his arm to curl beneath it.

“So my way, huh?” you asked, pressing your nose against the canvas jacket he wore.

Joel chuckled, a victorious grin stretching on his face. “Yeah, your way, baby. You’re in charge.” It felt odd to say, a bit unnatural to give himself to you like that. An alpha bowing to an omega.

You grinned, an arm wrapping around his thick torso and pressing close as he followed the snow-covered road. The landscape sparkled like diamonds, the two of you silent as you didn’t want to break whatever that moment was.

Unsure of what lay ahead, but excited to find out–knowing it just may be something special.

#joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #alpha joel miller #omega reader #alpha!joel miller #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #reader insert

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sailorholly · 1 year

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Stressed

Summary: Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1.4k

See my Masterlist here

“Who drank the last of the coffee and didn’t make another pot?” Spencer propped up on his cane, asked the crowded police station. One of the officers set his mug down beside the case files spread on the table before him.

“I did. I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t think that anyone else would want coffee, when we have barely had three hours of sleep?” The officer looked stunned, obviously caught off guard by the grumpy FBI agent.

“Kid, like I said, I’m sorry.” Spencer limped over to an empty chair, taking a seat. “Don’t call me kid. It’s Dr. Reid to you.” Hotch shot him a warning glance. “Reid.” Spencer dropped his gaze. The officer put his hands up in defeat, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

You wait until the room clears before going over to Spencer. You walk slowly as if you were approaching a wounded animal. “I started a fresh pot just for you. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s finished.” You smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

You can tell he’s still upset. He has been moody for a few weeks. Even though you all had agreed not to profile each other, the team had been taking guesses about what was wrong. You still didn’t have an answer. Hotch tried to speak with him privately, but he wouldn’t open up.

At the end of the day, everyone was glad to be back at the hotel. It wasn’t like the comfort of your homes, but at least it was a place to lay your head down. You all had been running on fumes.

You took a shower, thinking of every detail of the abduction. Something didn’t make sense to you, and you couldn’t get your mind off it. You dried your hair, deciding to knock on Spencer’s door to talk through it.

If anyone could help you figure it out, it was him. He answers the door, looking grouchier than before. “I’m trying to sleep. What do you want?” He snaps. You take in his attire. He’s wearing a cardigan over his button up and dress pants, the same outfit he had on earlier.

You frown, pushing your way into his room. “Since when did you start sleeping in your work clothes?” He closes the door, gripping his cane as he walks toward you sitting on his bed. He sits beside you, keeping his distance.

“You’ve been a real asshole lately, Spencer. It’s so unlike you. Is there anything you want to talk about?” He looks away, avoiding your face. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you. I’d love to help you, especially if it gets you out of this bad mood.”

You watch as he considers your words. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He asks quietly. You place a hand on your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” The faintest of smiles appears, the first one you’ve seen in a while.

“Now spill.” He sighs. “I am unbelievably stressed. My mom is on a new medication, and she’s giving her doctors a hard time. I got a new neighbor and he plays loud music late at night. I’ve asked him to stop, and he does for a while. Until I go on a case, when I get back, he’s started again. And I’ve been getting these headaches that won’t go away.”

He rubs his left eye, shoulders sinking in relief after he confessed. “Well, all those are valid reasons to be stressed. You really need to get laid.” You giggle, elbowing his side. “I’ve tried.” You stop laughing. You weren’t expecting a sincere answer. You were only joking.

“Wait, you’ve tried to have sex, but can’t find a partner?” You ask, a little surprised. “Yeah, I think it’s my awkwardness paired with the cane. It freaks them out. They probably think I’m an unsub.” He pushes his hair behind his ear.

“I like the cane.” You admit. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah! I think it’s sexy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but couldn’t you just take care of yourself?” You wince. You were having the most awkward conversation of your life with your favorite coworker.

“I tried that. But I couldn’t finish. My mind would race with a million thoughts. It kills the mood.” You lower yourself to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. “Wha.. what are you doing?” Spencer asks nervously, his voice raising.

“Helping.” You state matter of factly. You unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down. You’re careful when you tug his pants and underwear down his legs, going slowly so you don’t hurt him. He takes a deep breath when you wrap both hands around his hard cock.

You lower your head toward his lap, taking him between your lips. You suck slowly, waiting for his reaction. He lets out a shaky breath when you take him to the back of your throat. You suck harder now, saliva dripping down your chin.

Spencer watches you intently. He can’t believe this is happening. All the nights he had laid in bed, imagining this exact scenario as he pleasured himself. His biggest fantasy was playing out before him. He grips the white comforter on the bed with one hand, the other holds your head in place as you bob up and down on him.

This was too much. He was going to come, and he hadn’t seen you naked yet. “Come up here, I want to touch you.” He sounds almost like he’s begging. You release him, standing to remove your clothing. “Take everything off.” You command as your panties hit the floor.

He wastes no time, throwing his cardigan and shirt beside your discarded clothes. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt. You didn’t know how he managed to get it off. “Lay back against the pillows.” He scoots until his back hits the cushiony wall. You climb on top of him, legs positioned around his hips.

You start grinding against him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. He tilts his head back, greasy curls splayed out on the pillows. You pepper kisses against the sensitive skin of his neck, while large hands cup your breasts.

He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more turned on. “I want you to sit on my face.” You notice the faint blush rising on his cheeks as he said the words. “You sure?” He nods his head, confirming. “I want to taste you.”

You place your thighs on either side of his head. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to where you need him the most. His curious tongue meets your center, collecting your arousal and bringing it to your clit. He moans, the sound vibrating against you. You clamp your legs tighter around his ears, letting him devour you.

His tongue swirls around you expertly. He could be writing in Morse Code for all you know. You reach for the headboard when his lips wrap around your most sensitive spot. The suction and heat of his mouth tip you over the edge. You reluctantly remove yourself from him, still feeling needy.

“I need you inside of me.” You kiss above his belly button and his cock twitches. “I can’t get on top because of my leg.” He points to the offending appendage like you had forgotten about it. You beam at him, as you you straddle him once more. “I got this.” You line yourself up with his hard length, sinking down on him.

He gasps when he fills you all the way. You move yourself on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders for support. You rock your hips back and forth, letting your head tip back when he brushes your g-spot. You call his name, tilting your hips so he hits it again.

“You like that?” Spencer asks, gripping your hips, working your body with his. You feel the pressure building inside you. It’s unbelievable. You’re lucky if you get off once during sex, and your second orgasm is quickly approaching. Spencer feels you clenching around him.

“Already?” He is in complete awe of you. You were even better than he imagined. “Oh God, Spencer! I’m so close.” His hands hold you harder. He sits up, pressing his chest flush against yours. Your peaked nipples rub against his chest, adding fuel to the flames.

He removes a hand from your waist, bringing it down between you. The pad of his thumb drags across your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. He looks down at where you’re joined, admiring the view. “You’re taking me so well, Angel.” He swirls fast circles against you, and your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

Spencer watches as you come undone. He follows closely behind you, a string of curses leaving his lips. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. “I need to be in a bad mood more often.” Spencer thinks out loud, his lips curling upward into a smile.

Tagging some people I think would like this.

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lamentis-10 @megharat-barnes @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid

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angelicqsa · 3 months

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.ೃ࿐ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 3, 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌𝗌𝗌!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ”, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.” – ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

────────────˚🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆────────────

Being with bellamy was everything to me. You two were a perfect picture couple, ever since yall met; on the dropship the first day the 100 came down, you and Bellamy had chemistry. Despite you not liking his 'whatever the hell we want' motto you decide to give him a chance, and to let him in your heart. Since then its been nothing but pure bliss and a strong feeling of content. He'd always hold you and whisper sweet nothings and treat you like someone. And for once in your life you felt like you was important to someone, and you felt like you had meaning in life which is something you had never felt before. But now, its as if a summertime sadness has hit.

When Pike and Bellamy had been having these hush conversations he started acting a little off and the soft love touches were soon replaced with intense stares. It was as if a switch had flipped in him, a battle with dark vs light and the dark took over the light inside him. He walks out of the bathroom into your shared room and you ask, "Is everything okay Bellamy? You're acting a little off. You can talk to me you know?" You whisper as he climbs into bed and just stares at me as if i said nothing.

With a gruff sound he responds in a monotone way, "I'm fine. Just some stuff with Pike and Kane." he turns his back towards me before you could even respond he turns off his lamp on his side of the bed. Feeling disappointment wash through me, you turn off my lamp and let out a sigh then turn your back on him and lay there, with him consuming your last thoughts for the night.

That was about a week ago and since then, Pike has became the chancellor with Bellamy's help, Bellamy keeps distancing himself farther and farther away from you it's a contrast to how just a few weeks ago you two were a perfect couple, laughing together, secretly running off, fixing the cars together and just overall enjoying each others company. Everything has changed.

You finish up my work in the library, fixing books and collecting books that were once borrowed. You walk to the bar spotting Jasper, "Hey Jasper. How you holdin' up?" You ask curiously as you pull up a seat next to him. you were secretly hoping he wouldn't blame me for Maya's death for the 15th time in the past month which of course you felt somewhat guilty about, but you're aware that it wasn't you who killed her, and the ones responsible held an immense amount of guilt, not only for her, but for all the victims.

"Hey.." Jasper says drunkenly, while nodding off. He had bags under his eyes as if he never sleeps, which could be possibles considering the grief he was feeling. His grief and his drinking go hand in hand, everytime you see Jasper he's either drunk or on his way to being drunk. It was sad seeing your friend destroy himself.

"How are you tod-" You quickly get cut off to Lincoln being dragged out of medical by one of Pike's goons while angrily cursing at them in Trigedasleng.

"What the fuck is going on!?" You rush over to the scene while looking at Lincoln getting dragged away and you spot Bellamy standing next to Pike without a care in the world that Lincoln; one of his friends, was getting dragged out.

You rush over to Bellamy, anger quickly filling my veins you grab his wrist and mutter to Pike "Can you excuse us for a moment?" you don't even give him a chance to respond before dragging Bellamy to our room.

He looks confused when you first started dragging him, "Hey! what's wrong!" You ignore him.

He tries again and says, "Why are you angrily dragging me like i did something wrong?" Again. Silence.

He sighs angrily and says, "Now you're ignoring me!?" You simply roll your eyes, still angry and stay silent.

"Im so confused! What did i do!?"

The last sentence was shouted as soon as you hit the door and you soon as you shut the door the anger in you swells, the anger that has been continuously increasing these past few weeks that you ultimately end up ejecting at Bellamy with full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now Bellamy!? 'What did i do', 'What did i do wrong?' You fucking know what you did wrong!," Bellamy looks at you in surprise at the burst of anger you just threw at him and tries to interject,

"Is this about Lincoln? I really coul-" You hold your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and also yell,

"Im not fucking finished talking Bellamy! Im gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen! I've been feeling like shit for these past few weeks! You've been cold towards me. You've been putting Pike and your loyalty before your loyalty to your friends whos been with you when we were dropped on this planet to die! I-.. I don't know who you are anymore Bellamy, it truly hurts to say that." You feel a pool form in your eyes as you explode, your emotions feel all over the place and you can almost see how this is gonna end. And the 'end' that formed in your mind wasn't a happy ending.

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes soft, opposite to the rough and intense eyes you'd been getting these past few weeks. Bellamy opens his mouth then quickly closes it processing what you had said.

He whispers, scared that an increase of volume might get his heart broken. "Im sorry, i- i didnt mean to make you feel like that. I had no idea you felt like that."

The tears fall down your face as if youre a window on a rainy day, you look down deep in thought and prepare for the answer you might get for this next question. "Do you love me anymore Bellamy?" You say as your voice cracks. You're too afraid to look at his expression, but suddenly you feel his fingers on your chin forcing you to look up at him. He looks broken, he also had tears in his eyes.

"You think i don't love you...? How- How could you think that? I live my life for you. Anywhere you go i go. You've became a big part of my life and showed me what being truly loved is like. I love you always and forever, and i promise ill do everything to make you feel the love i feel for you." He says while crying in guilt for making her ever feel that way. How could he make her feel like that? This girl is the love of his life. The person he wanted to spend all his years with and build a family with.

"I love you Bellamy. So so much." you smile while connecting my forehead with his. "We'll get through this together." you kiss him passionately, all the anger already gone and replaced with love and happiness. See this is the boy you fell in love with.

You two passionately kiss and the kiss progressively gets deeper and more needy. He back away first, breathlessly he says, "Can i show you how much i love you? Baby let me worship you."

You nod your head and kiss him again before he picks you up and you yelp in surprise. "Maybe a warning next time" You giggle as he places you on the bed and starts to move his hands around your body making sure to touch everywhere.

Your body tingles as you feel his hands all over you. He towers over you and kisses you slowly before moving to your neck and making sweet love spots.

'Mmm Bell..' You mutter as he licks and sucks, those mutters eventually turn into moans.

"You gotta keep it down baby. Can you do that for me?" He asks as he pauses from sucking your neck. You nod and he proceeds.

You feel the warmth on your neck suddenly disappear and then you feel your pants being slid off slowly and look down to see Bellamy making eye contact while playing with your panties.

"You're so gorgeous.. how'd i get so lucky?" He says. He then rises up and removes your shirt, exposing your bra. He ends up taking that off and looking at your boobs as if he's seen a million dollars. He starts sucking on one of your nipples while kneading the other one in his hand. You whimper at the blissful sensations while making eye contact with him which just increases the nectar coming out your pussy.

He kisses the nipple he had just been sucking on and moves on to the next one making you bite your lip in pleasure whining at the good sensation.

He then moves to the valley of your breast and starts making open mouthed kisses down to the part where your panties were. He mumbles "These shouldnt be on" and rips them off.

"Hey! i liked those!" You say gasping as you feel the air on your vagina.

"Theres plenty more baby." He says while looking at you with a smirk. He then licks a long strip from your clit down to my entrance. "You're getting my fingers and my tongue today ok baby?" He says while breathing hard out his nose. You love how he still was somewhat dominant even when its supposed to be soft and him worshipping your body you still love the sense of dominance he brings.

"Yes baby thats ok." You whimper out while looking at him with anticipation. He attacks your clit first, circling your clit slowly before sucking which he repeats for a minute. He then places open mouthed kisses on your vagina as he did when he was working on your chest.

You moan at the sensations feeling it deep inside your core almost close to coming. But you didn't want to come that quick and have the night be over with already. You arch your back into his tongue while he licks and suck as if you vagina was a lollipop. You felt close and felt pure bliss ignoring the words he had once muttered earlier 'you gotta keep it down baby' well being cautious of your volume was long gone as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit.

He sucks on your clit which brings you closer to the edge. "F-fuck Bell.. im-im close!" You struggle to say, lost in the sensations and tingles your body was feeling. One last lick did the trick for you and you cum all over his tongue. He smirks and groans as he feels your hot cum. He swallows it before coming back up to kiss you, and when you kiss him you taste yourself all over his lips and tongue.

"Your moans sound amazing, i want more out of you.." He says softly before going back down and sticking a finger inside of you making you moan loudly as you arch your back with your lips parted and your eyes magically shut as he pumps in and out of you. You moan loudly calling out his name as if he was a god.

And that was how you night ended. Feeling worshiped and cared about by the man you love most. But everyone else the next day had heard you being worshiped and you calling our Bellamy's name. An embarrassment but with a good outcome.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 🤍

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────────⋆˚࿔ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────────

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amoreva · 7 months

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GHOST IN THE WIND

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: after a rough turnout of the quest assigned to you, you began to see your ex-boyfriend as the poison slowly kills you.

warnings: angst, post luke betrayal, poisoning, mentions of effects of poison

a/n: so sorry, was taking a slight break on requests for this fic and the fic series that is in the works. I promise i will answer the requests at some point.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Medic!” The door to the medical cabin slammed open. The door knob made a hole in wooden walls at Annabeth’s strength. “Will…”

She rasped out, carrying your dead weight. Your breath coming in short bursts as if your lungs couldn’t hold any more air. Veins darkened to the color of night, crawling up your flesh like a parasite itching to take over the host.

“Oh my gods…” Will Solace, head counselor of Apollo Cabin, gasped and helped you onto one of the uncomfortable cots.

You were mumbling nonsense as black liquid dribbled out of your mouth. Will called out your name, desperately trying to grab your attention. Annabeth was standing over you, concerned.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!” The other Apollo kid on duty piped up, scrambling to find the ambrosia. It was scary how you looked.

It was like something from the Underworld took hold of your body. There was a puncture wound on your abdomen, which was the probable entrance for the poison.

“Hey, hey—stay conscious for me, okay?” Will spoke as your vision began to get cloudy. He can see you withering away and demanded for information.

“Will…” You managed to croak out. Your friend looked at you with worry, to see the brightest camper succumb to an unknown illness was…bone-chilling.

“Don’t sleep—just don’t black out.” Will muttered as you tasted your favorite fruits as ambrosia slid down your throat easily. “Please…I don’t know if you’ll wake up—”

You were out like a light. The ambrosia combating the poison overwhelmed your body. It was too much for your mind to even find a sliver of energy to try and stay conscious.

Your name was shouted, but sleep pulled you away from the medical cabin and throwing you into a different scene.

It was dark, like you were walking in an empty void. “Judgement.”, you think. You must’ve died and was waiting to get judged on whether you can enter Elysium or not.

What a shitty death. Dying from poison, it wasn’t hero worthy nor significant to a war. Just death to some ghastly poison that you were careless to figuring out what it was.

But…it’s not Judgement. It’s not because you see him. He’s walking around in clothes you last remember him in. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. The beads on his necklace moving each time he walked.

You know he isn’t dead. He Iris-messaged you yesterday to apologize for his betrayal. He can’t be dead. You wouldn’t have it.

“Luke!” You tried to call out, but no sound is made from your mouth. It terrified you. You tried to scream your lover’s (ex-lover’s) name again as you saw claws wrap around Luke from the ground and drag him in.

You tried to scream his name again, running to him, but your legs felt like sludge. He stared at you indifferently, accepting his reality—maybe…maybe just maybe you could save him if you run fast enough.

He slipped between your fingers. His chocolate curls disappearing into the floor of whatever abyss you’re in. You let out a silent, dry sob. If…if you had just noticed sooner…you could’ve saved him.

The same hands wrap around your limbs, tugging you down into the floor. Crying out for help, your heart tightened as if someone had a grip on it—squeezing ever last bit of life out. A sharp pull engulfed you into the void.

You gasped deeply. Body launching forward as you grabbed at your chest. You expected the familiar wood floors of the medical cabin or even Will’s warm smile, but…you were on Half-Blood Hill.

Soft, calloused hands were gently placed in your spine. It doesn’t take an Athena kid to figure out who it was.

“You alright?” His deep warm tone filled your head making yourself dizzy. For moment…you allowed yourself to believe he was here, truly.

“Yeah.” You spoke, surprised to hear your voice again. What happened before becoming less and less memorable as you turned to look at Luke.

“You can tell me, y’know? What’s bothering you.” Luke reassured and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

A familiar smile graces your lips, allowing yourself to relax, you lean up against his chest. “I know.” You mumbled as his toned arms wrap around you. “I just…miss you.”

“Miss me? I’m hardly ever away from you.” Luke playfully teased.

The breeze blew against the two of you causing Luke to squeeze you a little tighter. You always claimed he was a human body heater.

Everything dropped. Faded in an all too quick manner before you could even scream for Luke. He was ripped away from you—but you were supposed to be in his arms.

“Hey! She’s up!” Someone called out.

You mind felt fuzzy. Mumbles, moans and groans tumbled out of your lips. You felt like you were outta your own skin—you jerked. Uncomfortable with this sudden irritation.

Annabeth yelped. The sudden reaction from you almost hit her in the face. Another groan of discomfort and pain escaped. Accompanied by it was another struggle to get whatever was out of your body.

To you, it felt like you were shifting a little to get comfortable. In reality, your body was violently twitching and reacting you hit a few Apollo kids. The veins darker than before, your skin paler than usual. What did this poison do?

“Get her—restrain…I—” Will demanded, worried you’d end up hurting yourself.

You screamed as something grabbed you, someone grabbed you. Your brain could only register it as danger and hurt and agony and—

“Stop it—!” You begged. Your voice sounded demented, as if it was the poison talking.

Black liquid oozed out of your mouth as you begged for whatever to stop. Ambrosia was forced down your throat. Lights were too bright. The panic was defeating.

You fell.

But you felt no pain.

It was “Judgement” again. The endless void surrounding the distinct figure, you. “There you are…” Luke grinned once he spotted you. Your legs carrying you to the Hermes’ counselor before you could think of the action.

The void morphed into the familiar forest used to play Capture the Flag. Luke laced his hand with yours. “S’just up ahead.” He tugged you along.

Once more, you let yourself relax like this was the reality that fate has set and not one where Luke betrayed Camp, betrayed Percy, betrayed Annabeth, betrayed…you.

“Where are you taking me?” You laughed. A bright smile on your face as you maneuvered through the forest.

Slipping through the trees and branches, Luke brings you to the dock. The water washing up on the small beach.

A small cliche red and white checkered blanket laid out across the wooden dock, masking the potential splinters. There was chips and two soda cans on the blanket and six roses bunched up to make it look like a bouquet.

“Oh Luke…” Any confusion or anger evaporated when you saw the scene.

He smiled, smiled that charming grin and pulled you to sit down on the blanket. “Used up the rest of my money for the snacks and to bargain with a Demeter kid for these.”

He held up the six roses. The petals a delicate red, soft as a baby’s bum. They smelled nice. He went through all this effort for you?

“Luke…” You repeat in the same tone and took the roses from his hand. You noticed the thorns were cut off and a couple of band aids were around his fingers.

A show of his effort to rid the thorns so you didn’t prick your fingers.

“This…this is all wonderful.” You said, albeit a bit breathless. The roses, the snacks, the blanket—all the thought put into this date. It made you forget you were dreaming. You should’ve known…this was too good to be true.

But you stayed oblivious and in denial, tackling your (ex) boyfriend in a grateful hug. Luke laughed and wrapped your arm around your waist.

Yet, your subconscious pulled you from the happy moment. An uncomfortable feeling itching to tear your guts and organs to shreds. It was as if your own organs and nerves did not belong there—like they were in the wrong body. A warbled scream left your throat. Hands desperate to claw at your flesh.

You wanted it to stop—you would do anything to get this feeling to stop. Your heart breaking. To be ripped away from Luke again and again. In both subconscious and reality was cruel.

Your veins now tendrils crawling up your face, stopping just a little above your eyebrows.

“Hey, hey—breathe!” Someone comforted. You couldn’t recognize their face. It was like as if your sense of familiarity disappeared, triggering your fight or flight (mostly fight) response.

“Will—the antidote?!” A girl called out. Her voice somewhat familiar.

You struggled against binds. You wanted to run far, far away and stop this pain. The pain in your body, the pain in your mind…the agonizing ache in your heart.

“Luke—” The name left your lips desperate for any sort of answer to what was happening.

A small pinch.

Fire. White hot pain sprouting in your body. Burning your insides out. Another cry for help. Another scream of desperation. His name leaving your mouth. It hurt—it hurt all too much. Both the burning in your body and the reality of him being gone. Truly, gone.

“Luke! Please…please—help!”

Overwhelmed, you were sucked back into the dream. This time on a cabin bed. It was unclear on whose cabin you two were in. Luke had his arms around your waist, head on your stomach. The pain fleeting, but lingering.

The stars shined brights whilst the moonlight blessed you two. It was peaceful, almost…dare you say—normal. No gods, no goddesses, no prophecies, no quests, no betrayal, no hurt. Nothing.

You found yourself humming, running your fingers through his curls, and feeling your eyes close with fatigue.

“Falling asleep there, sweetheart?” You could feel his smile against your skin. He pressed a kiss to the flesh nearest to his lips.

“Mhm…” Your body flared up due to a burn—but there was no fire in the cabin. You stayed put. “I—I could spend all of eternity with you.”

“I could spend all of my time in Elysium with you.” Luke mumbled and turned his head to look up at you.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, so he was close to you. Lips connected like hands clasping for prayer. It was soft, yet it spoke a lot of words that he could not get out.

“I love you. Never forget that, okay?” Luke whispered against your lips.

His beaded necklace hovering over you. You placed your arms around his neck slowly and kissed him again. Never wanting the moment to stop.

Even then, you never had the courage to say those three simple words to Luke. Realizing this might be the last time you see him, dream or not. It made you sad he never heard it from you.

Maybe this will make up for it?

“I love you—I love you. I love you.” You repeated. Your voice shaky, holding back tears. This wasn’t real and you know it’s not real—but…you missed Luke. You missed him so much that it hurts. You didn’t believe he would betray Camp Half-Blood and you without Kronos’ manipulation.

“Hey…” Luke cupped your face and kissed your forehead. He grabbed your arms to sit up. It wasn’t good to cry laying down. “Don’t tear up. Everything will be okay, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you—?”

“I’m sorry, but you have the wake up.” Luke sighed and pressed his forehead with yours.

“Wait—“

“You have to wake up.” Luke grasped your hands. He held you as if this was the last time.

“What?”

“I love you very much and—and I’m so sorry for leaving you there—“

“Luke—wait!”

Your eyes shot up to be met with wooden walls of the medical cabin. Will and Annabeth shot up, ready to take necessary precautions. A dry sob left your mouth.

“Hey…” Will spoke softly.

You sat up, tears cascading down your face. You started to helplessly wipe them. You could feel his touch lingering. His hands grasping yours. Will pulled you into a soft hug when he deducted the poison was out of your system.

The mind is cruel, the poison was cruel. Fate was cruel, life was cruel.

You missed him.

You buried into Will as if it was him. Will and Annabeth thought you were crying because of the overwhelming feelings of what happened when you were poisoned.

You missed him.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan fluff

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carolmunson · 1 year

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always something there to remind me (s.h.)

summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.

tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops

His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.

It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."

You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'

"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.

He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."

Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.

You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'

"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."

"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.

He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.

"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time.

Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."

When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.

A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’ ‘And? It’s my meat.’

“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"

“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste.

The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half. "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"

Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.

A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."

"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'

The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.

"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."

Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"

You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.

"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."

"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.

"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."

"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"

"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."

"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.

"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.

"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."

You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides.

“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week.

You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."

His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.”

His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."

His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.

"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"

You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.

"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.

"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"

He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."

"Steve."

"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."

"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."

"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."

"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.

"Everything good?" she asks.

You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."

She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."

Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."

"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down. “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.”

He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.

You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.

His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”

Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge.

Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.

“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.”

You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy.

“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts between statements.

“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?”

You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.

“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?”

“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.”

“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?”

“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn.

“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?”

You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled.

“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”

“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo. “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’

“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.”

thanks for reading. <3

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic

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godsfavdarling · 2 months

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My guardian angel

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader words: 790 summary: You get sick but thankfully, your boyfriend, Spencer is there to take care of you! warnings: none! a/n: This was a request for a male!reader, but when I finished, the gender wasn't really specified anywhere, so I changed it to gn!reader. I hope that's okay <3

The BAU had been called out on a particularly challenging case, one that had taken you and the team to the outskirts of a small, remote town. The days were long and grueling, filled with interviews, searches, and endless paperwork. Throughout it all, you had been feeling off—more tired than usual, slightly achy, but you pushed through, not wanting to let the team down.

By the time the case wrapped up, you could barely keep your eyes open. Spencer noticed immediately. As the jet landed back in Quantico, he took your hand, his eyes filled with concern. "You don't look well," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "Let me take you home."

You tried to protest, insisting that you were fine, but a sudden wave of dizziness hit you, and Spencer had to catch you before you fell. That was the last thing you remembered before everything went black.

When you woke up, you were in Spencer's bed. The room was dimly lit, and you felt disoriented. Your body was drenched in sweat, and every muscle ached. You tried to sit up, but a gentle hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Spencer's soothing voice filled the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at you with worry etched on his face. "You're burning up. Just rest."

"Spence?" you mumbled, your voice hoarse. "What happened?"

"You fainted," he explained, brushing a cool cloth over your forehead. "You have a high fever. I'm taking care of you."

You tried to protest, but the fever had made you too weak to argue.

Spencer gently held out a glass of water and the medication, his eyes full of concern. "You need to take these, okay?" he said softly. "They'll help bring your fever down and make you feel better."

"Everything's spinning," you muttered, feeling the world tilt around you. "Like... like a carousel."

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes filled with sympathy. "I know. Just try to rest. I'll be right here."

For the next few hours, Spencer stayed by your side, never leaving you for more than a few minutes at a time. He read aloud from one of your favorite books, his voice a calming presence in the midst of your feverish haze.

At one point, you reached out and grasped his hand, holding it tightly. "Don't leave," you whispered, your eyes glassy with fever.

"I'm not going anywhere," Spencer assured you, squeezing your hand gently. "I'm right here."

As the night wore on, the fever slowly began to break. Your breathing steadied, and you drifted into a more restful sleep. Spencer stayed awake, watching over you, relieved to see the worst of it passing.

When you woke up again, the sun was just starting to rise. Your fever had significantly reduced, and you felt more coherent, though still weak. You turned to Spencer with a tired smile. "Thanks for taking care of me, Spence. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Spencer leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You don't have to thank me. I'd do anything for you." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes filled with love and relief. "Just promise me you'll take it easy for a while, okay? No more running around getting sick on cases. And you tell me next time you’re not feeling well."

You chuckled softly, nodding. "I promise. As long as you promise to always be my guardian angel."

Spencer smiled, his heart full. "Deal."

Over the next few days, Spencer continued to take care of you, ensuring you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He brought you meals, kept you hydrated, and even managed to make you laugh with his quirky sense of humor.

One evening, as you were starting to feel more like yourself, you looked over at Spencer, who was sitting next to you, reading a book. "You know," you said, "I've always known you were smart and caring, but.. the way you take care of me… I love you."

Spencer looked up from his book, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I love you too. I'm just glad I could help. You mean the world to me, and seeing you like that... it was hard."

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "You don't have to thank me. Just promise me you'll always let me take care of you when you need it."

"Promise," you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the fever.

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bxtchycaprisun · 6 months

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obstinate (6) | a. anderson

summary: you’re a new medic in the WLF base. you’re young, hardworking, and the thing that abby anderson hated the most, stubborn.

notes: fem!reader, medic!reader, protective!abby, soldier!abby, mutual pining, fluffyyy, they are both horny fr, no smut yet but like… you get a little something, manhandling?

taglist: @caitlinisfruity @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @shady-lemur @sweet-lover-girl @novadanversss @paleidiot @ratdungeon @elliesrealw1fe @feelsoseencantdream @mai5mai @thatonementallyillsimp @stunkbiggu @ellabsmasc @vii-v

an: this isn’t my best work and i know this series is probs long forgotten but i still wanted to put this out there! plus there’s a surprise at the end 😚

MDNI!!

after shutting the door gently behind manny, and staring at the wood, abby grins giddily. you were approximately ten feet away, in her room, sleeping under her sheets.

last night, you and her had both given in. you had quit your fighting, you had come to her. and she knew that now it was her turn.

she looks over her shoulder, seeing your figure below the covers, and she sighs. the clock reads 5:51 in the morning.

your face, while peaceful, was still sunken with exhaustion. she walks, her steps gentle and as quiet as she can make them, to your side. once again, she settles beside the bed, against the thin sleeping bag.

she took your hand that was still hanging over the bedside, pushing it silently towards your chest, and pulling the covers up your shoulder.

she turns to the side, leaning up on towards her window. she tugs the blinds down, securing any crooked ones individually with her thumb, to ensure the room was as dark as possible.

she wanted you to sleep as long as you could. she’d let you sleep for days on end if you’d wanted.

she sighs quietly, laying on her back with her hands clasped at her stomach. the sound of your breath coaxes her into the exhausted state she was in only ten minutes ago, and she quickly falls asleep.

. . .

the sun is already shining bright above the stadium when you’re eyes finally flutter open. you groan softly, rolling on your stomach, and clutching the sheets. you nearly fall back asleep when the smell of pine that had been invading your nose all night finally registers in your mind.

your eyes shoot open as you quickly remember where you are, and you sit up. you scan the room with parted lips, your cheeks growing hot as your memories return.

“i want you to stay this time” she had pleaded. and you told her you would. you smile to yourself as you realized you had meant that. most mornings like this would be filled with regret, followed by you silently grabbing your shoes and fleeing.

but not this morning.

you slide to the edge of the bed, eyeing abby’s shelf of cds to your left. as your feet hit the floor and you take your first step, you quickly feel yourself get caught on a firm, warm body.

“oh shit-”you yelp, tripping over abby’s sleeping form and practically kicking her in the ribs as you fall, sprawling embarrassingly across the floor with the groan.

abby springs up completely, her eyes blown wide as she clutches her stomach. her sleepy gaze focus on you, leaning forward worriedly.

“what is it? are you okay?” she asks quickly, reaching out to you as you pick yourself up.

you turn around quickly, your ears ringing from the awkwardness.

“you- you overslept” you quickly stammer, clutching your surely bruised knee from the fall. “its almost ten!”

you expect abby’s face to contort into worry, but it turns into something else entirely. she starts laughing, clutching her tensed stomach and doubling over.

“what?” you question with furrowed brows, your cheeks hot. “abby..”

“sorry im sorry-” she practically snorts, her cheeks growing pink from her laughter.

“you just-” she giggles breathlessly, “you stepped on me.”

“i didn’t mean to!” you whine, still not finding the situation very funny. “i thought you were gone, you were supposed to be gone.”

“i- i got manny to take my patrol” she breathes out, her laughs slowing but a bright grin still tugging at her lips.

“you-” you look away, finally letting out a small laugh. “i’m so sorry, are you okay? i could’ve broken your ribs!”

abby shakes her head, still clutching her stomach as she laughs uncontrollably again.

“i’m fine, i’m okay.” she assures, watching you like you’re the most inexplainable thing to enter her life. which you are.

“you’re so…” she stops, looking away with a grin. she wanted to say something far too endearing, like adorable, or sweet. but she decides on something tamer.

“clumsy” she finishes, shaking her head. “are you okay?”

you let go of your knee, and rub your ankle absentmindedly.

“just bruised,” you laugh weakly once again. “probably less than you are.”

she sits up, grabbing you gently by the arms and pulling you to your feet. you look up at her, brushing your hair out of your face.

“you missed your patrol?” you ask her with a small frown. “why? i would’ve… waited. like you asked”

abby blushes, shrugging her shoulders gently. she holds your wrists in her hands, not wanting to let go.

“manny owed me.” she says simply. “i didn’t want to make you wait. we’ve got important things to do.”

“important things?” you ask with furrowed brows. “like what?”

“like… training you” she says with a coy smile. she finally lets go of your arms after giving them a gentle squeeze.

she adds on to her statement before you can open your mouth, bending down slightly to meet your eyes.

“just… for a little while,” she nods quickly, her voice slightly nervous.

“i may have been.. wrong. with the way i handled things with isaac” she finally admits, pressing her lips together.

“okay…” you say slowly, watching her with careful eyes.

“but,” she sighs with a smile, “i still want to.. give you some pointers. y’know, before i send you out there.”

your eyes flicker up to meet her, lighting up completely, and your lips pull into a beaming smile.

“you- you’re going to approve me?” you ask hopefully.

“i will..” abby breathes, bringing up her fingers to your forehead. she pulls a piece of hair out of your eyes, her touch fleeting but electrifying. “as long as you entertain this. okay?”

“depends…” you start to hum sneakily, watching her reaction. she narrows her eyes, and tilts her head, preparing to insist .

but you quickly smile, laughing to yourself.

“kidding,” you finally assure. “i’ll entertain it. as long as you let me go.”

“i will,” she nods. “i promise you. just give me today. one day.” she takes a step forward, her eyes sincere. “that’s all i ask.”

you smile, your lips pressed into a fine line. after a short moment, you give her a nod.

“okay,” you say gently. “i’ll give you today.”

abby’s face brightens even more, and she rocks on her heels with her shaky palms now clasped together.

“okay,” she repeats back, looking off to the side and up the stairs.

“use my shower,” she nods towards her bathroom door.

you follow her eyes, seeing the full sized bathroom shared between her and manny; a luxury most wolves didn’t have. all of your showers took place in a communal restrooms where privacy was out of the question.

“all my soap and everything is in my room,” you sigh out.

“use mine,” she says once again, trying not to sound too excited about the idea. “i don’t mind.” she adds nonchalantly.

you nod, turning your head and smiling to yourself. but you quickly furrow your brows and look back.

“but my toothbrush-” you start but are quickly cut off.

“don’t worry about it- we’ve got a whole bunch of unused ones in the closet.” she responds, but her cheeks turn pink.

“cause of manny,” she quickly adds on. “he.. has a lot of guests.”

“ah,” you laugh slightly, “and you don’t?”

you immediately regret your question, as you quite frankly didn’t want to know the answer. it wasn’t your nature to be so flirtatious, but with her, you couldn’t help yourself.

“no,” she says immediately, her tone more sincere than the previously playful exchange. “no, i don’t.”

you blush, mimicking her mannerisms and rocking on your heels. you’d never say it out loud, but you were beyond happy to hear her say that. you didn’t want anyone in her bed. that is, anyone but yourself.

“alright,” you breath, breaking away from her as you walk towards the bathroom.

“take your time,” she calls out, watching you as you shut yourself in. as the door clicks, she springs into action, rushing giddily to the kitchen.

. . .

after finishing your far too long shower, you finally shut the water off. it had been a long time since you felt so.. clean, so rejuvenated. in fact, maybe it had been forever.

you groan softly as you dry yourself off, leaning over her ceiling high mirror.

the soap you used smelled like her. you smelled like her. not just from the shower, but from everything. the last night had restored you, and it had been in her room, in her bed. it wasn’t just the sleep that made you feel better, it was abby.

your fingertips run over your bare skin, and you sigh as you feel where her hands had grazed you the night before.

she cups your shoulder, pushing your dazed, and cried out frame backwards on the bed. “you should get some rest,” she mumbles, pulling the blanket over your figure, and waiting for you to lay down.

your skin feels hot, and you let your head fall into your palms.

shakily, she moves closer to you, tilting your face down. she keeps an unsteady hand on your neck as she brings her lips to your forehead.

you sigh out frustratedly into your hands, suppressing the noise into your skin. abby was just outside the door, preparing to train you.

but there was so much left unsaid.

she wasn’t just letting you go on patrol; she was letting you in.

and you were letting her in too.

you hear a small knock on the door, and look over as abby cracks it open.

“clothes,” she calls out, sticking only her hand through the opening.

you smile, chuckling to yourself as you take the fabric from her fingers. she closes the door gently, and you turn back to the mirror.

“fuck…” you sigh out, staring at your reflection. “okay..”

you silently get dressed into the outfit she had given you. the cargos were too big for you, but you belted them securely around your hips. the shirt was soft and loosed. it smelled, once again, of pine. of her.

you both knew you could just go back to your room to retrieve an outfit. yet you didnt. and she didn’t ask you to.

you take several minute to compose yourself before finally opening the door to the bathroom. you are immediately hit with the smell of bacon.

abby peaks her head around the corner, sporting that signature grin you had grown to adore.

“i made us some breakfast,” she smiles, handing you a piece of toast as she flips the bacon.

“gotta get my-” she starts but falters with wide eyes. “-you ready for our day.”

you lean against her counter, watching her as she finished up.

she looked so good. her muscles half flexed as she flipped the bacon, hair loose and wavy, her hardened nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt…

“you’re staring,” she interrupts your spiraling thoughts with a sly grin, turning to meet your eyes.

you’re breath hitches, surprised but also not at her boldness. you shake your head, brushing off her flirtation. baby steps, you thought.

“i- im just starving,” you immediately defend.

she nods, plating the bacon and an unnecessary amount of toast, and handing it over.

“eat up,” she smiles, and you take it gratefully.

you grow oddly silent as the two of you eat, but it’s comfortable. it feels familiar.

the two of you keep your eyes on your plate, both glancing up at each other, yet your eyes never meet. abby’s foot brushes against your ankle. she thinks about pulling away, but she doesn’t.

“so..” she trails off, watching you with a curious and careful expression. “do you want to talk? about last night?”

you pause, furrowing your brows in thought. you knew this would be brought up eventually, but you remained hesitant.

“i don’t know..” you shake your head. “i don’t have much to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” she says immediately back, leaning towards you and clasping her hands over the table.

“just.. just know that there’s nothing wrong with you. everyone has a breaking point…” she trails off, frowning. “hell, it’s a miracle you didn’t reach yours earlier.”

you look away, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your unannounced arrival last night, but her voice calling out your name breaks you out of it.

“hey,” she whispers. “i’m glad you came to me. in fact, i want you to come to me.”

she pauses, her tongue rolling on the inside of her cheek.

“you’re my friend,” she finally speaks, her voice slightly caught in her throat.

you watch her with a quivering bottom lip, feeling like you could cry from her words. it had been a long time since you’d had a friend. someone you could go to no matter what.

“thank you,” you whisper, and you both fall quiet again. the window is cracked at the edge of the room, and you sigh as you take in the fresh air.

“so,” you finally break the silence, finishing as much as you could of your food. “what does our.. training consist of?”

“well,” abby leans back, stretching her arms behind her head with a long yawn. “i want to see you shoot.”

“can do,” you nod, “what else?”

abby smiles at your line of questioning, tilting her head as she watches you.

“i want to see what you can lift,” she says.

“uh-” you laugh weakly to yourself. “you won’t be impressed.”

“i just want to see,” she assures, laughing along with you. “i mean- i know you can’t compare to..” she trails off teasingly, gesturing to herself with her large hands.

“oh hush,” you shake your head, “don’t get all cocky on me.”

“okay okay,” she puts her hands up, her eyes never leaving yours.

“anything else?” you sigh out.

“yeah,” she says, a little more slowly this time. “i want you to uh- you know- fight me.”

you’re face gets hot as memories run through your mind.

her knee digs into your thigh, pinning your leg down as she glares at you from above. each of your hands are in hers, sprawled out above your head.

you shake your head, struggling to snap out of it as you look up at her.

“we’ve already done that once,” you reply, almost in a whisper. you keep a gentle smile on your face, but your heart races at the topic. “you don’t need to prove what we both know again.”

“yeah?” she leans forward. “and what is it that we both know?”

you narrow your eyes at her, sighing in slight frustration. even though you were getting along far better than you ever had, you both had the same stubborn and teasing nature.

“abby,” you breath. “just because i can’t- overpower you, doesn’t mean i’m not ready.”

“i know, i know,” she nods, looking off to the side with a sigh. “you said you’d entertain me on this. i’ll play fair this time, i just want to give you some tips in combat.”

you breath in, rubbing your temples gently as you shut yours eyes.

“fine, fine,” you agree. “you’ve got a deal.”

“alright then,” abby smiles, standing up and reaching a hand out to you. “let’s get started.”

. . .

abby had been pleased with your shooting skills out on the rooftops, and even with your lifting in the west gym.

she knew little, next to nothing actually, of your past before coming to the wlf. but she did know you were training to be a soldier in your childhood.

as she walked by your side through the stadium, glancing down at you fondly every few seconds, she finally had the chance to talk to you about it.

“so you came here a few months ago,” she confirms as the two of you converse. “and you came with a group but they all got stationed at unit 10?”

“that’s right,” you nod, staring down at your feet as you make your way towards the field.

“does that- you know- make you sad?” she asks you softly. “being separated from the people you came with.”

“not really,” you reply honestly. “i wasn’t particularly close with any of them. they were sick of fedra, and so was i. we were all helpful to each other on our way here but..”

you trail off, pressing your lips together. “it was just that. they weren’t family.”

abby frowns, looking forward as your words make her chest tighten.

“do you miss your old qz?” she asks.

“most of the time no,” you say simply, looking up at her. “but sometimes i miss the freedom.”

you cross your arms over your chest, padding quietly beside her.

“most of the people i was around weren’t.. good people,” you say softly. “but with that.. there wasn’t any friendship. any real emotional attachment.”

you pause, feeling her watch you as the two of you make your way outside into the cloudy arena.

“you make that sound like a good thing,” she says with a laugh, but her tone was devoid of any humor.

“sometimes it was,” you admit. “made loss a lot easier.”

abby stops walking, turning to you fully as she observes you with a gentle expression.

“is that why you’re so reserved?” she asks softly. “you don’t want to get attached to people?”

you’re suddenly very aware of the sincere tone in her voice. if it had been any other person asking you these questions, you would have fled long ago. you weren’t one to open up, or complain about your past.

in fact, you had it a lot better than a lot of people this day and age. you never knew your parents, or had any family. you never had many close friends, and you never fell in love.

you’re life may have been pretty lonely, depressing even. but it was free of heartbreak. it was free of grief.

you had the feeling abby’s was the opposite. and so did she.

“i don’t want to be reliant on anyone,” you respond simply. part of you hoped that would be the last of her questions, but another part of you begged for her to ask more. you wanted her to pick you apart, bit by bit until she knew you inside and out.

“you can love people without being reliant on them,” she says, but you can’t help but shake your head in disagreement.

“i don’t know,” you whisper, “i think loving is reliant.”

abby smiles bittersweetly, watching as a gentle breeze travels through your hair.

“maybe,” she shrugs. “but it’s worth it.”

you shrug in return, looking up at her.

“maybe..” you repeat back as she takes several steps away from you.

the grass is dewy below your feet, brushing against the too-long cargos that cuffed your shoes. you shuffle backwards as well, looking around at the outdoors surrounding you.

you were still in the base, on one of the few outdoor patches that was left open for training. to your left were dogs, and horses, and ducks shut in stables. and on your right there were yards of garden boxes.

“don’t get distracted,” abby teases gently, watching as your eyes gloss over and take in the scenery.

“sorry,” you smile, looking up at the sky. “i haven’t been out here in ages.”

abby frowns to herself, that familiar feeling of regret settling in her stomach. it wasn’t often she second guessed her decisions, but when it came to you, things were different.

in her attempt to protect you, she somehow missed how unhappy you had been. she was harming you more than saving you. but she was determined to change that.

“okay..” she finally sighs out, going into training mode. “i’m not just gonna- come at you again i swear. i just want to show you some self defense.”

you roll your eyes ever so slightly, finding the whole situation silly.

“you know i’m not completely inexperienced in combat, right?”

abby shakes her head, her demeanor still playful, but also genuine.

“scars fight different than what you were used to. guns won’t be enough. once they get their hands on you…”

“okay okay..” you say with a small groan. “i get it. axes, and torches. show me what to do.”

abby smiles, straightening her back.

“alright,” she nods. “turn around.”

you furrow your brows slightly, but do as your told, turning your back to her.

“i’m gonna… im gonna grab your waist okay?” she whispers, quickly coming up behind you and snaking her fingers just below your ribs.

you shut your eyes, trying to breath steadily as she wraps her strong forearms tightly at your belly button.

“the worst position you can be in is getting attacked from behind,” she says quietly into your ear, causing an eruption of goosebumps to run up your spine.

she was thankful you couldn’t see her face, her red cheeks and forehead glistening with an anxious sweat. the wind whipped your hair slightly against her skin, and she nearly lets out a sigh.

“okay… now if they lift you.. you need to crunch your abdomen and kick your legs,” she instructs. “try it.”

“o-okay…” you stammer, holding your breath as she lifts you like it’s nothing.

“now..” she laughs weakly, her nose against your neck. “pretend i’ve got a dick, kick me there.”

“kick you?” you gasp out, eyes widening at her instruction.

“just- do it gently,” she chuckles. “i’ll be fine, just kick me.”

you bring your ankles up, and slowly bring one foot back down, kicking gently on her right thigh, just beside her crotch.

“good.. good,” she praises, smiling to herself. “you just gotta do that but harder.”

she reluctantly lets you down, her hands sliding away from your waist a little too invasively to be considered platonic. you turn back around to face her, your mouth pulling into a grin.

“and if my opponent isn’t a guy?” i ask.

abby’s expression falls slightly, her lips tightening into a thin line. she knew you were only messing around, but she didn’t like to imagine the idea. to imagine a situation where you wouldn’t be able to fight back.. a situation you couldn’t escape from..

she narrows her eyes, crossing her tensed arms over her chest.

“kick harder,” she says firmly, and looks away.

. . .

the two of you continue your training session for nearly two hours, and abby shows you just about every defense mechanism in the book. how to block, how to kick where it hurts, how to punch without shattering your knuckles.

while she was admittedly pleased at how quickly you caught onto things, the entire situation as a whole was getting her riled up.

she knew that ending this training meant sending you out. something that, while she knew was going to happen eventually, she wasn’t prepared for.

it wasn’t often she allowed herself to truly care for anyone beside her close circle of friends she had grown up with.

she was living in a war, and while she had many great relationships in the wlf, she also had a lot of loss. death was an every day occurrence, and losing a peer, whether that be a familiar grunt, medic, cook, or even comrade, was something abby often experienced.

she had grown used to detaching from the people around her. she was someone everyone could rely on, yet it was rare a loss fazed her.

but you were different.

she liked you, she cared about you. you didn’t fall into the large sum of people she could tolerate to see die, you never had.

you were one of her own now. like nora, manny, owen, and mel. maybe something even more important.

you were hers.

and she wasn’t going to let you go.

“now duck!” she yells, throwing an only half charged punch your way and grinning as you successfully dodge.

“block, now throw!” she had shouted over a dozen times, the two of you maneuvering around each other as abby commands. “good, good girl now back up- back.”

you shuffle your feet backwards, this time not waiting for abby’s cues to start your movements.

duck, block, throw, back.

“you’ve got it,” she smiles, her entire body now shining with a thin layer of sweat, the strands of her braid clinging to her neck and forehead.

“cmon now, i’m done telling you what to do,” she finally urges, panting as she raises her fists.

“show me you can do this.” is all she says before you march forward, successfully dodging her soft hits, dancing around her stance as you push her chest back.

the two of you go silent, the only sounds filling the outdoors being the grass crunching below you and your short bursts of breath. you circle around each other, touching, and pulling, and grazing your dampened skin as you train.

abby’s eyes narrowed, her irises fiery as she leans in. she grabs your belt loop, tugging you a little more aggressively towards her chest.

you’re surprised for a moment, whimpering as she goes to bring a gentle but firm hand to your throat, when you roll away from her grip, using your newly trained skills.

abby smiles at your maneuver, going once again to tackle you, but you’re already prepared.

this was it.

it was time you prove to her that you can do this, that you can be out there.

you weren’t a defenseless medic waiting to be killed off in the field. you weren’t unprepared, or stupid, or reckless.

you were reliable, and strong, and caring, and capable.

and in this moment, you were a girl, now straddling the hips of abby anderson, pressing her face into the dirt with a hand pinning her left arm to the ground, and your booted foot pinning the other, breathing heavily as you feel her racing pulse.

you clench your teeth together, tensing as you notice the buckle of her belt rub enticingly between your thighs. you feel her hips buck, and watch as she groans into the grass.

abby goes quiet, her chest heaving and her face flushed as you finally let go of her cheek, pulling your hands up but remaining on her lap.

she turns her head, looking up at you with a now toothy yet sly grin. she sits up with a grunt, looping her arms around your waist and holding you steadily against her.

and she leans in, her nose brushing against yours teasingly, her pupils focused on your parted lips.

“you’re ready,” she sighs out.

and she kisses you.

. . .

an: only took six chapters 🤷‍♀️

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson #obstinate #abby tlou #abby anderson fic

272 notes · View notes

nexysworld · 1 year

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Chapter Summary: Waking up after your night in the woods leaves you grappling with emotions and uncertainty. There's only one lifeline you have - Leon. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

Read on AO3 || Ask Box Open || Masterlist

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Everything felt sore and raw the next time you opened your eyes. Sleep had built up crust in the corner of your tear ducts, mouth cottony and dry. Despite feeling physically worse than the first time you woke up, mentally you were a little more there. ‘He has soft sheets. ’ You curled up more under the soft blanket, not yet wanting to acknowledge your own consciousness. The soft blanket that encompassed you had the faintest smell of Leon’s cologne, it was familiar and comforting.

Only when your eyes began to itch did you finally decide to join the waking world. Sitting up felt awkward, one foot was heavy and numb. Tossing the gray blanket to the side you found the culprit, a thick cast hardened around your ankle and foot.

Your brain flashed you images of the darkened forest, the root that had caused you to trip, feeling your ankle crack with a burning pop. The memory made your chest feel heavy.

“Leon?” Your voice was cracked and raspy as you called out for your friend. Vague bits of your previous conversation came back to you. “Leon?” You tried to call again, louder this time. A muffled, “Be right there!” Was heard through the closed door.

To distract yourself, you decided to take in your surroundings more, with it surprisingly having been the first time to see the inside of Leon’s apartment. His room was plain in another way that just seemed so fitting for him. The bedding, a soft and expensive cotton, different shades of gray. The walls plainly wallpapered, no real decor besides a few shelves with some knick knacks. Only the basics were there, a brown dresser and matching nightstand alone with a TV. You noted the carpet looked far more plush and newer than the one in your own apartment – in fact despite the lack of decor it was clear that Leon had made upgrades.

The door opened and Leon entered, a cup of water in his hand. “Sorry, that took a minute, I had to finish a work call. Hope you’re feeling better, you seemed really out of it earlier.” He reached out to hand the cup to you, from his other hand he produced two little red pills. “Ibuprofen, it’s what the hospital recommended.”

You popped the medication into your mouth before greedily gulping down the water, relishing the way the cool liquid felt as it ran down your throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He took a seat at the end of the bed, shooting you a weak smile. “So uh, you wanna talk about it? I was really worried, you know.” Handsome features melded into a concerned look as he scooted a little closer to you.

You pondered his question for a moment, more memories of the previous night coming back in short bursts. “Well I–” Something just felt wrong, it was like you were watching someone else’s memories, not your own. Of course your current physical state aligned with them – but the thought of Derek’s face twisting and morphing into that thing felt surreal. ‘No, that couldn’t have happened. It’s not possible.’ Realizing you’d left Leon hanging in silence, you finally looked back to him. “I don’t really know … Do you know where my phone is?”

“Yeah, I think I left it on the coffee table. Hold on.” He stood, exiting the room, returning quickly. “Careful, the screen’s pretty cracked.”

Taking the device from his hand, you tested it to see if it would even work. Luckily the screen lit up, Apple Logo coming to life underneath the cracked and rough glass. Breathing a sigh of relief, you immediately opened your contacts list scrolling to find who you were looking for. “This can’t be right.” You said, mostly to yourself. Derek’s contact was nowhere to be found, your last text thread, completely gone too.

Leon said something, but you didn’t register the words far too engrossed in your phone. Facebook? Relationship status set to single, no sign of Derek’s profile. Snapchat? Nothing. All the couples’ dates and holiday photos were wiped from your Instagram too. Chewing your lip, you checked the gallery of photos on your phone, nothing there either.

Anxiety began to overtake you once more, heart picking up speed. “What the fuck.” Searching through messages with friends, there wasn’t even a mention of your boyfriend. Everything was exactly as it should be, minus one person. “What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.”

“Is everything ok?”

“No!” You snapped at the blonde, hands shaking. “No I am not o-fucking-kay.” In one last ditch effort you dialed his number from memory, bringing the phone to ear. There was the familiar ringing sound on the other end of the line, before it stopped abruptly. The narrator’s voice picked up, “We're sorry you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

“No. No, fuck!” You dialed it again. Then a second time. A third time. A fourth time. By the fifth time, tears were staining against your cheeks. Each and every time you tried, the automated voice said the same thing. Derek had that number since highschool, you’d known it by heart there was no way you dialed it wrong. Before you could try again for the sixth time, Leon’s hands came forward to cup your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Hey, look at me.” He cooed gently. His features unblurred as your eyes adjusted through the tears, blue orbs looking back at yours. “Sweetheart, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Derek. Derek, he’s gone. He’s not in my phone, he’s gone Leon.” Your hands came up to grip his wrists desperately trying to ground yourself. “How can he be gone, I was just with him and, and –”

“Shhh. Shh.” He shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks, swiping the wet tears away. “Take a deep breath, in, and out.” Doing his best to follow his instructions you gasped in and out, chest heaving with each one. “Just like that. In, and out.” Soon the breaths evened out and returned to normal. “Good girl, shhh.” He moved his hands from your face, to wrap his thick muscled arms around you in a tight bear hug. “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

Leon held you against him, rubbing your back as you clung to him for dear life trying to calm yourself down. He waited a few moments after you calmed down, not letting you out of his arms as he spoke. “Derek, you said that name earlier when you woke up. Is he someone important?”

Brows knitting together you brought your face out of his chest enough to look up at him in confusion. “Important? How could you even ask me that, you know how important he is.”

It was his turn to return your look of confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who that is.”

Astonishment. Absolute astonishment was the only feeling you had, launching backwards out of his arms, hitting your back against the pillows again. “Leon Scott Kennedy, that is not funny. You know damn well that Derek was important to me. I told you I was moving in with him. I texted you –”

Leon’s hands came up defensively. “Look, I know you’re a little out of sorts right now. Whatever happened last night must’ve been scary. But I promise you, I’ve never heard you say anything about a Derek, or a boyfriend for that matter.”

“That’s…that’s not true. It can’t be I was with him last night and –”

“What exactly happened last night. Do you remember?”

“I think so…not entirely…I don’t know.” You admitted honestly, looking down at your hands. “I was supposed to be camping with him. And while we were out in the woods, he was acting really strange…and then…and then…” Trailing off you weren’t even sure what to say.

“Did he hurt you? Is that why you’re cut up all over, your ankle?”

“I guess you could say that – but it’s not what you’re thinking. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t in the right state of mind.” Leon gave you a knowing look in return. “No, no it’s not like that. Leon, I swear, he looked so ill. Black veins, red eyes and then suddenly he was chasing me and I remember tripping over a root. My ankle popped….and then he exploded….Leon I held his eye ball in my hand….oh god. I know I sound crazy but Leon, I swear to you I’m not. I remember, something blew him a part.”

The concern returned to Leon’s face and you could tell he wasn’t buying your story, despite that he still smiled and nodded. “That is definitely a wild evening.”

“You’re not taking me seriously. You don’t believe me.”

“I am taking you seriously. I think you just had a really rough night, maybe you were drinking, something bad happened in the woods.”

“I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t on drugs, I was stone cold sober. Leon please .” You pleaded with him.

He sighed, pushing some of his loose fringe out of his face. “Ok, you were sober.” He conceded softly.

“You think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think that either. I think that something happened, something very bad and you are just maybe not remembering things exactly as they happened.”

“I didn’t make him up.” You said firmly.

He reached out again, putting his hand on your shoulder. “Look, I won’t pretend to understand what’s going on, but I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s going to be ok.”

If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have trusted them in the slightest. If it had been anyone else, you’d have made an excuse to leave and hide in your apartment to figure things out on your own. But this wasn’t anyone else, this was Leon . “Thank you.”

He nodded in return, pulling his hand back. Leon had convinced you that before anything happened, what you really needed was food and fresh clothes. At least knowing he was on your side gave a boost to your mood, enough for you to temporarily calm down for the time being.

You picked at the plate of pancakes, fork twirling up some of the fluffy food before letting it fall off, repeating the action – lost in thought. Suddenly something warm was against your lips, eyes looking up to see Leon holding his fork to your mouth. “Come on, don’t make me do the Choo Choo Train bit too, eat it.”

Wrapping your mouth around the piece of food, you couldn’t hold back the small laugh that escaped at his words. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you’re not eating, so I figured I’d help.” He raised a brow, forking another piece of the syrupy breakfast and held it up to your mouth, you accepted it the same as the first.

“If you’re feeding me, who’s feeding you then?” You mimicked his action, taking the piece of pancake onto your own fork and reaching out to him.

A bead of syrup began to pool off of the food, slowly dripping threatening to drop against the table. Leon darted his tongue out to catch it, the pink muscle lingering for just a moment before circling the fork. The action made your face heat up for a second, averting your eyes as he finally pulled the food into his mouth.

“Messy but delicious.” If he noticed the flush on your cheeks, he didn’t say anything.

The moment felt so normal. It brought you back to all the other moments you’d shared with him, the butterflies were working their way back into your stomach. The night at the movies, the way he’d licked the milkshake off his thumb. ‘ Wait– the movies… the argument with Derek. ’ Your head snapped up to look at the man across from you.

“Leon?”

“What’s up?”

“A couple of weeks ago, do you remember picking me up from the movies?”

He tilted his head back for a moment as he thought about the question. “Oh yeah, I remember. I was staying at a friend’s place in town and you needed a lift home.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was with my boyfriend and he left me?”

His brow raised in confusion. “Er, no? You said you got into a fight with your friend and she ditched you there.”

“My friend? No, it was a date with my boyfriend and we got into an argument over you.”

“Over me?” He looked genuinely shocked.

“Yes, you!” You slammed your hand onto the table, frustration bubbling within you again. “We had a fight because he thought we were getting too close, and then I wound up telling you a few days later that we needed to distance because of it! Don’t you remember?”

“I remember that you told me your best friend was starting to get jealous.” He said with a shrug. Tapping your fingers against the table, you brought your phone out again, flipping to your call log from that night. Sure enough, no calls to Derek, but there were the outgoing and incoming calls with Leon. Just above that where Derek’s name should have been, it was your friend’s contact. ‘ That’s not right…’ Back into your messages, you found her contact, and scrolled back to that night. There was no mention of the movies, in fact, there were no messages with her from that day at all.

Something was up, even if you couldn’t put a finger on it. Setting the phone down, you looked over at Leon, not sure what to say, and definitely not wanting to push him into thinking you’re crazy – which despite his kindness, he probably already does. ‘But last night.’ You had to resist the urge to cringe at the memory of the eyeball in your hand, the blood splatter. You swallowed down the growing nausea. It occurred to you, that regardless of your memory one thing was likely true – Derek was dead. It made you want to cry again, a black ball of agony settling in the pit of your stomach. You ignored it long enough to get yourself together.

“I want to search for him…or a sign of him at least.”

“Huh?”

“I want to search for Derek. I can’t have just imagined him. I just… I just want to stop by some familiar places.”

Leon nodded. “Why don’t we go together? You shouldn’t be walking around alone, especially with your leg out of commission.”

“Would you really be ok with that?”

“I told you, I’m here for you. If it makes you feel better, if you feel like it’s what you need to do, then we’ll do it.” His words were casual as he tucked back into the remaining food on his plate. Not a hint of mock or suspicion in his tone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon had fetched the hospital crutches you needed to use while your ankle healed, and helped you back to your own apartment. You shooed him off for the time being, insisting you were fine enough to get cleaned up on your own.

Stepping back into your own apartment felt so odd. Everything was exactly as you’d left it upon first glance, like the previous night had never even happened. It was so normal, it felt like you didn’t belong in it – like it wasn’t yours anymore.

“Fuck, I look rough.” Your mirrored image was exactly what you expected. Hair a mess, eyes sunken and tired, body littered with bruises and cuts – grateful that your image was soon covered by the fog of the shower heating up.

The hot water against your skin was euphoric, working out some of the soreness. It just felt good to be clean, fresh.

Sitting on the corner of your bed, slipping into some clean clothing, you looked around you. Nothing in your bedroom had been amiss either, all your plushies exactly where they were, even the pumpkin one. A thought occurred to you. ‘ Digital stuff is easy to mess with, but what about… ’ You hobbled over to your closet, flipping the light on. It took some careful effort to balance on your one good leg as you rummaged as far back as you could go. “Got it!”

Successfully, you found the old worn down shoe box, making your way back to your bed. It made sense, anyone could’ve messed with your phone, your social media while you were unconscious. But physical items, those would’ve been a lot harder to tamper with, especially unnoticed.

The box contained your entire life, photos, memories, everything physical that you held dear. A few birthdays ago your friends had gotten you one of those modern-mini polaroid camera, while you weren’t great about remembering to bring it all the time, you knew for a fact there had been pictures of you and Derek taken on it.

Sifting through the contents, you tossed all non relevant images to their own little pile while you looked through them. Childhood photos, baby pictures, some images of you and your friends. It was all there – except any photos of you and Derek. For good measure, you sorted through all of them again three more times just to make sure none were stuck together or were missed. You would’ve gone through them a fourth time if your phone buzzing hadn’t brought you back to the moment.

A text from Leon:

‘ Hey u ready? ’

You were not sure what was happening, but you were desperate to find out what the hell was going on. Replying to Leon, you grabbed your jacket, and headed for the door where he was waiting for you.

“Hey, while I was out, did you notice anyone strange in the apartment building?” He helped support your weight in the rickety and uneven elevator.

“Hmm, not that I know of. But you know I stay inside most of the time if I’m not helping Mrs. Wilson. Why?”

“I think someone may have been in my apartment.” For a brief moment you swear his grip on you tightened.

“Why do you think that?” The tone of his voice sounded off as he asked the question, restrained almost in a way you couldn’t fully put into words.

“Just some things are missing…but honestly I don’t know who’d steal them. They were just photos.” You shrugged, stepping out of the elevator, using the crutches to support you as you made your way through the parking garage over to his Jeep. It was a little odd that Leon was trailing behind you instead of taking the lead but you weren’t in a state of mind to question it.

“Are you sure you didn’t misplace them?”

“I guess I probably could have.” You shrugged, not really wanting to go into further detail or make yourself sound crazier than you already knew you appeared.

“Where to first?”

“Do you know that little cafe in the center of town?”

“The one with the pink cups and the $8 coffee?”

“Yeah that, one. He worked there, I just want to see if anyone knows the last time he was in.”

“You got it.” Turning the key, the jeep roared to life and you were on your way.

The fresh air felt nice, hair drying in the wind. A small part of you wished that the drive had been longer, admittedly nervous about what you’d find. Every time you looked back over to Leon, you felt grounded again.

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

“No, I got it.”

“Alright, just holler if you need me.” He shrugged, leaning back into his seat.

The bell rang as you opened the glass door, with only about 30 minutes to closing there was no one left inside despite a few employees – one being Derek’s direct manager. The smell of coffee and sweets wafting into your nose.

“Hey Mike.” His face warped into a confused look as he gave you an awkward wave.

“Uh..hey? Do I know you?”

The question had thrown you off completely, almost halting you where you stood.

“Dude, she probably got the name from your tag, chill out.” The man next to him said with a laugh. “Shouldn’t have smoked on break man, you’re paranoid.”

“Shut up, don’t say that in front of the customers.” He whispered to the employee before smiling at you again.

“Anyway, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering the last time Derek was in?”

“Derek? I mean we don’t keep tabs on the customer like Starbucks so I couldn’t tell you.”

“He’s not a customer. He worked here, usually the closing shift. Derek, Derek Shultz?”

Both employees looked at each other then back to you. “We’ve never had anyone who works here by that name. Are you sure it was here and not the Dunkin down the block or the Starbucks the other way?” Their words made your mood shift instantly. “I know he worked here .” You insisted, too many nights were spent waiting for his shift to end, sitting at the cornered table by the window. “His picture is on the wall in the employee room, for crying out loud!” You moved to storm back there – well as much as you could with two crutches and a broken ankle.

“Ma’am, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to show you.”

“Ma’am you can’t go back there.”

“Like hell I can’t.” Frustrated entirely you kept moving forward, back behind the counter towards the slightly ajar door in the back.

“We’re going to have to ask you to leave.” The man said, trying to block your path.

“I’ll leave after I look!” Not taking no for an answer you angled the crutches so you could begin moving around him.

“Please don’t make us have to call the cops.” He pleaded with you, attempting to put a hand on your shoulder. The other employee had moved running into the breakroom, you caught a glimpse of the pictured wall before the door closed, but not enough to confirm what you were looking for.

“Just let me back there, damn it!” Under normal circumstances you would never act this way in public, but you were so desperate and overwhelmed you couldn’t help it. “I said let me in there!” You repeated, wacking the man in the leg with one of your crutches.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He demanded grabbing at his leg in pain. You maneuvered around him as quickly as you could, grasping at the door to the employee room and flinging it open. “Brady, call the fucking cops.”

Your eyes landed on the wall, and just like every other thing you’d checked for – there was nothing. His picture wasn’t there, replaced by some pimply teenager you didn’t recognize. Suddenly a pair of arms was tucked under your own, dragging you backwards. You kicked and flailed against his grasp. “Let me go, I just wanted to look!”

In the background you heard the second employee mentioning something to what sounded like a 911 dispatcher, the man holding you not easing up in his grip. The commotion must’ve been loud enough to have been heard outside, the chime of the bell signaling the door had been opened.

“What the hell is going on?” Leon’s familiar voice rang out. “Hey, just calm down and let her go.” He said attempting to take you from the man.

“No way dude, she’s crazy. She hit me with her crutches, I’m just holding her until the cops get here.”

“Leon!” You shouted his name, tears once again covering your face as you struggled in the man’s grasp.

You heard the blonde sigh before walking closer. “She’s with me, just let her go – she’s been having a rough day. That’s all.” He reached out, putting his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll even have her wait here until the cops show up.”

“Fine.” The manager said, releasing you forward into Leon’s grip. “But I’m keeping the crutches back here until the cops decide what to do with her.” Looking up at him, you could see the muscles in his face tense before he smiled. “Understood.”

He opted to lift you up, carrying you back to the jeep. “You wanna tell me what happened in there?”

“I just wanted to see the picture, and they wouldn’t let me back and – I don’t know what came over me. I don’t even know what to tell the police.”

He didn’t question your barely-coherent explanation further. Instead, he patted your back gently. “It’s ok, I’ll handle them. You just relax and catch your breath.”

You wanted to question what he’d meant, but the first cruiser had already pulled into the small parking lot, causing Leon to immediately walk over. Feeling ashamed, you shrunk down in your seat as much as you could, wiping the tears from your cheeks and waited for your turn to speak with the officers.

You watched as Leon spoke with the cops, it looked like he’d pulled something out and showed it to them. Both officers nodded and the whole exchange barely lasted 5 minutes, it was the weirdest thing, and instead of walking to you they got into the car and left.

Leon returned to you a few minutes later, stuffing both crutches in the back of the jeep.

“They don’t want to talk to me?”

“Nah, I explained things and they don’t think it's worth pursuing y’know? I told them I’d get you home and make sure you’re not beating anyone else with your crutches.” He let out a dry laugh, but when he didn’t see you calm down he patted your back again. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, I’m guessing you didn’t find what you were looking for?”

You shook your head, looking out the side of the jeep at nothing in particular, just not wanting to look at him or the coffee shop anymore.

“Sorry to hear that. Maybe you’ll find something at the next place?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stayed silent the entire ride back to the apartment building, the sun beginning to set in the sky – Leon stayed quiet too and while odd, it was definitely appreciated. He helped you back to your apartment again before saying goodnight.

You were exhausted still, physically anyway, despite the rest you’d gotten after Leon had found you, but your mind wouldn’t shut off. Nothing was making sense, nothing at all. How everything could be so normal, how the world could keep turning while you lay in confusion and misery you’d never know.

Surely Derek must’ve been real. Who else would you have been in the woods with? The pumpkin plush he’d gifted you was still in your room.

But then, his job claims he was never there. Leon doesn’t remember him. The photos were all gone.

It made your head hurt, and every time you closed your eyes all you could picture was that thing in the woods. Heart racing as if you were being chased again, making it impossible for you to settle. The more you tried, the worse it got too – especially the thought that someone may have been in your apartment.

Every creak, noise, bump in the night was beginning to make you jump and put you further on edge.

Grabbing your crutches and sneaking out of your apartment, you made your way to the outside of Leon’s door. It was late, so you listened closely for any sign of consciousness on the other side. There was some shuffling and the sound of the TV, so you decided to knock on the door gently. The movement stopped and you heard the lock click on the other side of the door before it opened.

Leon stood leaning his arm against the frame looking down at you, only clad in a pair of pajama pants. It took the entire use of your last remaining brain cells to keep your eyes locked with his, not allowing them to travel down his well formed body.

“I can’t sleep.”

He nodded, “Come on in then.” He turned, letting you follow behind him. Your eyes making their way over the expanse of his back, even his shoulders were toned. Smooth pale skin, looked soft against the hardness underneath, and it was a delightful distraction for the time being – not having to avert your eyes or feel shameful since there was no one looking, not even Leon. He stopped to grab two beers from his fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything”

“I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“I tried sleeping, but every time I close my eyes I just see the woods. And when I’m awake and alone with my thoughts, all I can think about is the coffee shop and those missing photos.”

“That’s rough, I’m sorry.” He patted the seat next to him on his couch. You took the invitation leaning back against the plush cushions. Somehow even it felt expensive and far out of your own paygrade.

“I just wish I could stop thinking about it entirely, just for a little while.” You settled into the spot taking a sip of the beer he offered before looking over at the TV, some documentary was on – he’d muted it though. “This might be something really weird to ask, so feel free to tell me no but… could I stay over here tonight? I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“Of course. Me casa es su casa. You’re always welcome here.” He grabbed his own beer off the coffee table, taking a sip. “You can have the bed again, wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to make an injured girl sleep on the couch.”

“Mm, that’s true and if I know anything about Mr Leon Kennedy, it’s that he’s nothing but a gentleman.”

“I’m flattered.”

You both laughed, feeling less tense already between being in his presence and the alcohol warming your system up. While you did consider yourself a bit of a lightweight, the exhaustion of everything must’ve been affecting you because halfway through the bottle you were already feeling the tingling of a buzz coming on. It wasn’t unwelcome though.

“You know.” You began, alcohol giving you a small boost of confidence. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I’d feel like I was putting you out – and besides your bed is pretty big we could both uh…” Not as smooth as you’d hoped, but he at least seemed to get the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing the bed, if that’s what you mean.”

“Are you sure? If I’m being honest, I actually think I’d prefer it to being alone right now.”

“Yeah, besides then I keep all those bad dreams away.”

You finished the rest of your drink, nearly chugging it relishing the warm burn in your stomach. He offered you another, which you nursed between some more light conversation and him flipping through the TV channels, a nice foggy feeling taking over your brain.

It was around 2am when you both finally agreed to go to bed, giggling like crazy as you stumbled towards his room, barely coordinated enough in your inebriated state to use the crutches properly.

“Easy now.” He said, as he sat on the edge of the bed holding his arms out to you, much like a parent goading a toddler to walk.

“I’m fine, I got this.” You said, focusing hard on moving towards him. One crutch caught on the carpet though, making you wobble a bit. Not willing to give up the adventure to the bed, you tried lifting it, only to stumble forward, letting go of both wooden tools. “Woah!” Leon had caught you before you fell completely on top of him.

“What was that about being fine?” He asked, a smirk on his face.

You wanted to reply, but the close proximity to him wasn’t helping the state you were in, eyes locking on his face. You could smell the beer mixed with mint on his breath, his lips looked so plush and soft up close, barely ghosting over your own from the distance. If this had been a movie, it would’ve been the part where you finally gave in to the tension – but it wasn’t and you knew better.

“S-sorry.” You pulled away slightly. “Guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought.”

“European beer will do that to you.” He still held you at the waist for a moment, looking you over.

“We should get some sleep.”

He didn’t reply, instead helping adjust you so you could more easily crawl into your designated spot on the bed, tossing the blanket over you once you were there. He laid himself on the other side of the bed, facing away from you before switching the light on his nightstand off, encompassing the room in darkness.

Silence washed over you both for a few minutes, sleep still not quite coming over you as fast as you had hoped. “Hey Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you hold me?”

The bed shifted against his weight as he rolled towards you, pulling you back against him a little. You could feel his warmth against your back, his heavy arm settling over you, hand resting against the skin of your stomach that was exposed as your night shirt had ridden up a little. The feeling of him against your skin affected you more than expected, heat twinging between your legs slightly – you squirmed slightly before squeezing your thighs together, trying to ignore it.

“Everything ok?”

‘Fuck .’ You groaned inwardly, not having wanted him to notice. “Yeah, just getting comfortable.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, pressing himself closer to you, chin resting atop your head. A few more moments of being wrapped in his warmth and any horniness you felt slowly transformed into sleepiness, eyes heavy. It wasn’t long until you were out like a light, all thoughts of Derek gone for the time being.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bad news.” Leon said once you were conscious enough to understand words. He had clearly been up well before you – a part of you disappointed that you hadn’t woken to his warmth. “I got called into work.” He was rummaging around the room, a closed suitcase on the bed and a blue suit laid out next to it.

“Oh.”

“We’ll have to postpone our next visit. Just for a day or two though.”

“That’s ok. I appreciate you taking me at all.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Better than expected – probably thanks to you.”

“There’s that flattery again.” His phone buzzed. “Hold on, I have to take this.” He answered, putting it up to his ear. “Kennedy here…Hunnigan? Yeah….” He walked out of the room to take the call in private.

You eyed the suit on the bed. Strange, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Leon in something so formal, it was hard to even picture him in it. It made you further wonder what his job even was – though you supposed it made sense that someone who worked for the government would need to dress a certain way.

Reaching forward, you pulled the hanger towards you inspecting it a little, the tag inside read ‘Hugo Boss.’ “Damn.” A brand name suit? Their cheapest ones were easily more than half your rent, and this one looked tailored too. Most people you knew who worked for the government weren’t making that kind of money, but you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised given his affinity for jackets, or the expensive cologne and watches he wore. Hell, he could even apparently afford to update his apartment.

It did pique your curiosity though – and you were glad it did, needing desperately to focus on something else for a little longer.

The door opened and he returned. “Like it?” He asked, noticing you checking the attire out.

“Not sure, I can’t picture you in it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah it just doesn’t seem…Leon, you know?”

He laughed at the comment. “I have to agree with that. It’s not my favorite.”

“You said you worked for the government right?”

“Mhm, why?”

“I was just curious what you did?” It was subtle, but you watched him tense up again at the question. His hands gripped the suitcase lingering there for a moment, his face forcefully becoming neutral. “Only if you’re ok telling me.” You added, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

“No, it’s ok.” He returned to zipping up the suitcase, before, beginning to take the suit off the hanger to wear. “I can’t go into a lot of detail. I guess you could say I’m a federal agent in a way.”

“Like…DEA?”

“No, I don’t really deal with drugs.”

“Secret service?”

“Something like that, yeah. I do miscellaneous work, we’ll say.”

“Oh… dangerous work?”

“What’s with all the questions?” It was the first time you’d ever heard annoyance in his voice and it made you jump a little. He let out a sigh as he finished buttoning the white undershirt. “Look, I'm sorry. I get it, everyone has questions once they find out. Sometimes it can be dangerous. I really can’t say any more than that. So, no more questions, ok?”

“Sure, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not that you should have expected any differently, but things were harder without Leon there. While he said only a day or two, he wound up being gone longer and everything felt like it just took so much more out of you. Basic needs like food and water were ignored – returning to your job was something that was simply autopilot for you.

You barely slept the first two nights, the same thoughts and images running through your mind. If it wasn’t that awful horror reel replaying itself over and over, you were thinking about the upcoming trip when Leon got back. What would you even say to Derek’s family? What if the outcome was the same as all your other efforts? The very idea deflated you more than you cared to admit.

The remaining nights you spent in Leon’s apartment, curled up in his bed like a cocoon of safety. He’d left you with the key in case you couldn’t handle your own apartment again – clearly he knew you better than you knew yourself because he’d been spot on.

You missed him more than you expected too – he’d become sort of your lifeline since you’d woken up in his bed that morning. Always so kind, caring, there for you in a way even your closest friends couldn’t be. Of course, being surrounded by him definitely added to those feelings, and if you thought hard enough about it, you had missed him long before this while reconnecting with Derek.

Part of you felt guilty about it too – if Derek was real, you were already cozying back up with the very man he’d been so jealous of. But you couldn’t help it, and justified that Derek was likely not coming back even if you could prove his existence.

That thought brought little comfort as well, so instead you opted to push it to the back of your mind trying to grasp at any other thoughts.

Leon hadn’t really told you when he’d be back, and you probably should’ve checked in with him. You figured he would at least check in with you – but you were wrong – curled up under his blankets, your fingers ran themselves down between your legs, images of the blonde dancing behind your eyes.

This time you were picturing the night before he left, hand on your belly, back pressed to you. You took the image farther, picturing him running that hand down to rub at you gently through your pajamas, the feeling his hardness pressed to your back. Maybe he’d play coy while you squirmed and whimpered against him.

“L-Leon –” Your actions and voice were cut off by the sound of the front door opening. “Oh shit.” Yanking your hand back up, you tried to even your breathing out and flicked the light off. The sound of padded feet down the hallway grew louder before the door opened. Leon quietly made his way in, setting his suitcase down as you pretended to be asleep.

He didn’t say anything, only changing into his pajamas before lying down next to you. Thankful you hadn’t been caught, you closed your eyes, curling into his hold when he wrapped his arm around you – letting sleep overtake you for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek’s parents lived a bit out of the way, but you knew the drive by heart having visited numerous times. They’d never liked you, always considering you not good enough for their son – he came from money. Good money too, which is why he was able to live in the nicer building in a more expensive part of town. His job was primarily for spending money.

This was your last hope for answers, for a sign that you weren’t crazy. You needed this trip to fair well.

Your confidence was rattled severely after the coffee shop incident, and knowing his family wasn’t your biggest fan made it worse. Regardless, you pressed on and opted to go with the ‘fake it until you make it’ approach – not speaking about your nerves and trying to not give any hints of it.

Instead, you treated it like any other car ride with Leon – watching the trees blow past as you went down the winding road in the middle of the woods. Singing along with him as music played, playing dumb car games like I spy.

If your destination hadn’t been such a mood ruiner, you would’ve genuinely had a good time.

As the road forked off into two paths, you told him to take the right one, knowing where it would lead. Only about 10 minutes away, your nerves began to pick up making you feel a little queasy again.

The large home came into view as his jeep wheeled into the massive multi-car driveway. It was just as you remembered it, huge, limestone painted brick covered the exterior of the walls. Hedges were trimmed and shaped, everything about it screamed ‘rich’.

“Do you want me to stay here again?”

“Yes please.”

“Are you sure, after what happened–”

“I’m fine! I will be fine. I won’t beat his mom with my crutch, if that’s what you mean.” You tried to make it sound like a joke, but the wavering of your own voice gave away that you couldn’t really be sure of that. “Look, you’re right here at the end of the driveway this time. I won’t even go inside.”

He gave that knowing look of his, but didn’t push it with you, turning off the ignition letting the vehicle come to a rest. Grabbing your crutches from the backseat, you took in one deep breath before heading to the double french doors.

The lion knocker was the same as you always remembered it, grabbing the bottom end and knocking it against the door several times. A few moments went by, but no one called out or answered. You looked around and you could see the cars were there through the garage window. Not wanting to have made Leon drive all this way for nothing, you rang the doorbell a few times.

“Alright! I’m coming, I’m coming!” The shrill voice of Mrs. Shultz came from somewhere within the house. There was a budding sense of relief beginning to come over you – there’s no way a mother could forget her very own child, surely there must’ve been something you could glean from this visit.

The doors opened, and there she was in her full glory. Hair curled into a teased perm as if it was still the 80’s, red lipstick shrewdly covered her pencil thin aged lips. She was always pursing her lips in judgment, the very stereotype of a rich stay-at-home wife – but you had never been so glad to see her as you were in this moment.

“Mrs. Shultz!” You exclaimed, arms opening in a hug. The woman did not return the gesture, in fact she took a step back as if in offense.

“Excuse me?” Her penciled-on brows came together in a disgusted look. “Who are you ?”

“I’m – you don’t recognize me?”

She eyed you up and down, clearly unimpressed with her findings. “I don’t tend to associate with the…less fortunate.”

“Mrs. Shultz, I’ve been dating Derek for the past few years. I know you never really liked me but –”

“Who?” She looked complete aghast at your words. “Young lady, I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I have half a mind to call the police and have you removed from my property.”

“What? No, I’m not playing any game. Derek, your son? We’ve been dating–”

“Then you have the wrong house because I don’t have a son!” She snapped, heel clacking against the ground as her annoyance raised.

“Yes you do! Derek, Derek Shultz, he’s your son!” You insisted, your own frustrations growing – though you did your best to keep your promise to Leon, not wanting a repeat of the last incident.

The older woman stared you down, before leaning forward nearly nose to nose in your face.”My husband and I have never been able to have children.” She spat at you. “And I don’t know what sick mind you have to play this kind of prank, but it’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to prank you! How the hell do you not know your own son, you gave birth to him!”

“You have five seconds to get off my property before I have someone escort you off of it.”

“How dare –”

“One.”

“Listen here you raggedy old bit–”

“Two.”

Anger fueled you this time, far more than desperation. Call it one of the five stages of grief, but she’d hit your button just right. Not wanting to assault her, you stood there, angry tears making your face puff up as your mouth conorted. You felt like a child, wanting nothing more than to scream back at the adult in front of you, but forced to stand in line while you were being berated.

“Three.”

Again you felt someone touch you from behind – this time Leon’s arm wrapped around you. “We’re just going to be leaving now.” He said, trying to move you from the spot.

“No. We. Are. Not!” You said firmly trying your best to yank out of his hold, while remaining upright.

The look he’d given you stopped any further protest you had. You’d seen Leon be annoyed before, with other people. You’ve heard him be irritated with you only once. But this, this was different and you could tell in his eyes this wasn’t a request.

He gave the woman one more nod, apologizing to her on your behalf, before walking you back to the vehicle.

“Do you know how much trouble you could’ve gotten in? Public spaces like a cafe is one thing, but one some rich lady’s private lawn?”

“I–”

“No, you promised me.”

“But I didn’t even try to –” You stopped, the feeling of him being upset with you was somehow worse than even your last failed attempt to prove that Derek existed. Like salt to the wound. “I just don’t understand how you can forget your own child.” You added.

Leon turned to look at you, his mouth opening as if he was going to say something, but instead he went back to looking in front of him as he drove. The rest of the ride home was silent, not even the sound of music was heard.

That meant you were left alone with your own thoughts – dangerous. ‘ Everything is wrong. What the fuck do I do now? ’ You pondered further, trying to piece everything together. Nothing was fitting into place though. ‘ The photos are gone. My phone has no mention of him. His own mother says he isn’t real. ’

You pushed it further, reimagining the night in the woods, forcing yourself to picture every gorey detail – even the sound of his face splitting open again. It made you sick to your stomach, a hot flash came over you. Still, you ignored it, trying to remember anything significant – but it didn’t work.

Looking down at your ankle, and the now yellowing bruises on your skin, you gave up. ‘Are these memories even real? Something clearly happened to me but…monsters don't exist. There’s no sign of him anywhere.’ A deep longing panged in your heart, settling on the idea that maybe Leon was right. Something terrible happened in the woods, something so awful your brain wasn’t working right – a psychotic break, amnesia, false memories – whatever you wanted to call it.

Could you ever even accept such a thing? The last few years of your life, just…gone – rewritten entirely.

So lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Leon pull back into your apartment building until the sound of the jeep went silent. He got out without saying a word, only silently offering you a hand and getting the crutches for you. Nothing like your usual walks back to your respective homes, he hadn’t even invited you inside either – closing his door as soon as he entered. Of course you couldn’t relax either – if pacing with crutches had been possible, that’s what you would’ve been doing. Instead you bounced your good leg anxiously on the floor as you sat on your bed, this time clinging to the teddy bear that Leon had gifted you.

Not being able to take in anymore, you made your way over to his door, knocking on it not even caring if he was asleep this time or not. You couldn’t be alone right now, and you couldn’t let him be angry with you.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at him the second the door opened. “I’m sorry.” You repeated for good measure. “You’ve done nothing but tote me around and take care of me no matter how absolutely insane I’ve sounded – you asked for one thing and you’re right, I didn’t keep my end of it. I’m really sorry.”

“Sweetheart, it’s alright.” His voice was soft, as looked at you. “I know that it’s been hard. I know you’re frustrated.” Despite it not being a common occurrence, the pet name comforted you more than it surprised you.

You nodded in return. “I think you were right.”

“Was I?”

“I think something bad happened to me that night – something I can’t remember, because ever since then, nothing has felt right. There’s no sign of Derek – I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just want to feel ok again Lee.” You wrapped your arms around him, and he returned the gesture, pulling you into his apartment with him and closing the door.

“It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.”

“How do you even know that?”

He tilted your chin to look up at him again. “Because I’m here. Because I say so. It’s going to be alright.”

“I don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want to cry anymore.”

“Then don’t think about him.” He leaned his head down, so your foreheads were touching, so his lips just barely grazed over yours as he spoke.

“Make me forget him, please Leon.”

He replied by connecting his lips to yours, his lips plush and soft. His hands moved, one in your hair to hold you in place, the other supporting your lower back. It was soft, sweet, and he pulled away just long enough to look at you again. “I can do that.” The second time your lips connected, it was in a frenzy of heated kisses as he walked you both backwards to his couch, sitting and pulling you down on top of him. He was careful of your bad leg, gently pulling it into place where you were straddling him.

You could feel him filling out beneath you, your own arousal making itself known. This was what you’d been craving for so long. Craving since you and Der– you froze again, looking down at Leon. He mimicked you, halting any movement, looking into your eyes – you could see the concern there.

Guilt.

He wasn’t real.

But the guilt.

You shouldn’t feel guilty over someone who never existed.

And yet, guilt.

“I can’t do this.”

He looked at you confused.

“I’m sorry Leon, I can’t do this. You’re one of my best friends, I – we shouldn’t be doing this.” You backed yourself off of him slowly, using the coffee table and then the wall to support yourself back to the hallway to grab your crutches.

“Wait –” He called out, standing but not immediately following you.

“God, I am so sorry.” You repeated again, opening his door. The look on his face killed you, and you couldn’t even put into words what was wrong. Why you couldn’t handle this right now, or maybe ever. Instead of trying, you left as fast as your crutches would take you back to your own apartment – not even bothering to close his door behind you.

“Fuck!” You shouted once you were inside your living room, slumping to the floor. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Mega FUCK!” You let it out of your system as you banged your head backwards into the wall, not enough to damage anything, but enough to try and work out the unexplainably icky feeling you had.

Logically, there was no way the man you’d fallen in love with was real. Logically . But something inside of you just ate at you – like a small 6th sense telling you not to trust what was before you. And god if you weren’t fucked in the head for using Leon to try and work your emotions out – treat him like a tool, just a distraction after all he did for you.

And if Derek was real, then you’re double fucked for just running off with the man you weren’t even supposed to be friends with, much less anything more.

You screamed into your own hands, until your voice was raw. “I’m so fucking fucked!” Either you were insane, or some cosmic universal event had entirely fucked up your life – and you weren’t sure which was worse.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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sofasoap · 7 months

Text

Te Amo

Summary: From the beginning, to the future.

Pairing : Alejandro Vargas x medic! F!Reader

Warning: M Rating, mention of injuries, hints of child/kid. hint of pregnancy. use of alcohol.

Author note : For @glitterypirateduck's Amor a Alejandro Challenge. I am not native Spanish speaker... I rely on my friends help and google.. please please let me know if there are any mistakes! And ... my first ever Alejandro fic. LOL.

“Colonel.”

“Doctor.”

“Have a drink with me?” He offered. “Nothing too strong, I promise.”

“Getting used to life here?”

“Slowly, I love the people here. I can see why you and Rudy and the rest of the Los Vaqueros are fighting to protect this place.” You slowly took a sip of the liqueur, cocking your eyebrow as the hot burning sensation slowly slid down your throat. Alejandro chuckled at your expression.

“I thought you are used to strong alcohol with whisky.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that strong for me. I just… wasn’t expecting it. Since you said it’s nothing strong.”

“Sorry.”

Footsteps and quiet chatting noises come and go outside his office as the two of you sip on the drink, in silence.

“Thank you for your drink. I better get back to my report.” You drain the last bit of the alcohol, before standing up and taking your leave. “Doctor.”

“Mmm?” “Have a drink with me.. Every night?”

You paused. “Only because you're cute.”

He laughed.

“Doctor.” “Mmm? What is it? Colonel.” “Do you trust me?” “Of course.” you mumbled. “Then sleep.” “Why?”

“You look like you are about to drop onto the floor. Come on.” He opened his arm, pulling you into his lap.

The whole room soon filled with your light snoring sound.

“Doctor.”

“Mmm.”

“Have a drink with me.. Every night?”

“Or the rest of your life?” You smiled.

“I thought we already established that.”

You chuckled. “ You assume so.”

He cock his eyebrow. “I thought what I said to you last night was enough.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You teased.

“Colonel.”

“Mmm?”

“You should be more careful.” you sighed as you finished off the bandaging.

“I know.” “The baby won’t be happy to know their Papa is coming home with another scar.”

“Sorry…”

“....”

“Papa?”

“Colonel.”

“Mmm.”

“Sleep.” You whispered.

“I can’t.” “You earned it. You've done enough. Time to rest.”

“ But…” you shushed him.

“Cariño. Rudy and the team will take care of the rest. You got nothing to worry about. Trust them.”

“Mi vida.”

“... mmm?”

“Te amo.” “Love you too Ale. Love you too.”

Tag list: @siilvan @gamergirlbones @writeforfandoms @nrdmssgs @cumikering @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @roosterr @mini-metal @homicidal-slvt @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

#Amor a Alejandro #call of duty #Alejandro Vargas x reader #Alejandro Vargas x F!reader

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mmilkbreadd · 3 months

Text

—oh my god, they were roommates—

Previous || Masterlist

╰┈➤ when is my heart going to stop beating fast every time i see them?

╰┈➤ someone help me PLEASE.

╰┈➤ call a medic.

notes: tsukishima can’t handle his feelings like a big boy [yes, i ended this fic three years later, so?]

word count: 3.2k

[third and last part]

It’s been three months since the lights went out —when Tsukishima discovered your eyes were stars burning brightly in the night.

Three months where you hadn’t even exchanged anything but a few glances here and there.

Three months where he had definitely been avoiding you.

The three most uncomfortable months of your entire life (and it wasn’t because of the apartment that you were living in; in fact, it was by far the loveliest and calmest place you had ever slept in).

Yet, why was sharing an apartment such a difficult relationship?

But still, did you even have a relationship? A friendship, at least?

Companionship…?

You weren’t even sure what that word meant! But it certainly wasn’t what your ‘rommate-ship’ was about. Besides, you couldn’t point out when it had changed —the ‘lights out incident’ was just a funny anecdote to you: a way to remember some of your first days at your new home.

On the contrary, to Tsukishima, it was as his life had taken a huge turn: a wave of feelings had suddenly hit his heart. His emotions fluttered as he was a hormonal teenager in love. But Kei was never one of the popular jocks who had every person falling for him —he had a few students following him around during his high school days, but they were never that serious—, therefore he had never felt what having feelings for someone meant.

He felt weird around you, like he was making a fool out of himself every time you shared the same air, the same room, the same bathroom! He was out of words whenever you asked him how his day had been.

Him! The Tsukishima Kei! Who would’ve thought? Not even Yamaguchi Tadashi would’ve, to be honest.

Tsukishima didn’t know what to do anymore. His palms were always sweaty, his minds constantly occupied with thoughts about you —he used to be so serious about volleyball practice, but it was completely difficult to concentrate when he knew that he would have to come back to meet you in the apartment! He made so many mistakes during matches that his coach even thought about benching him for a few games afterwards.

So, three months after the lights went out, he made a decision: he was moving in with Tadashi for a few days until his heart calmed down.

His best friend’s apartment was too tiny to fit them both. But a place on the couch had Tsukishima’s name in it and he didn’t bother sleeping on it —even if it was half his size.

And there he was: bag at his feet; baseball cap on his head; mobile phone with three missing calls from his pretty roommate; and his right index finger was pressing the doorbell, repeatedly.

The door opened only to show Yamaguchi wearing his baby blue pajamas; his hair, a tangled mess.

“It’s six in the morning,” he stated the obvious. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Tsukishima simply said as his best friend moved to the left to let him in.

“So, you decided to pack a bag and just… come over?” Yamaguchi asked after closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Tsukki, but I just don’t believe you at all.”

Tsukishima slowly made his way to the small green couch in the center of the living room area. He sat on the left side as his eyes took in his newest home.

A big plasma T.V stood in front of him, along with a coffee table cluttered with magazines, video game controllers, and a few empty snack wrappers. Yamaguchi's apartment was cozy but undeniably lived-in, unlike the sterile cleanliness of Tsukishima’s place.

Yamaguchi sighed, rubbing his eyes before sitting down next to Tsukishima. “Alright, spill it. What’s really going on?”

Tsukishima hesitated, looking down at his hands. He wasn’t good at this—talking about feelings. But he needed to get this off his chest. “It’s my roommate.”

Yamaguchi raised an eyebrow. “The one you’ve barely talked about? What’s wrong with them?”

Tsukishima took a deep breath. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know. It’s just… every time I’m around them, I feel like I can’t think straight. It’s affecting everything, even volleyball.”

Yamaguchi leaned back, a small smile forming on his lips. “Ah, I see. You like them.”

Tsukishima’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What? No, that's not—

“Tsukki, you’re not fooling anyone. Not even yourself,” Yamaguchi interrupted gently. “It's written all over your face. You like them, and it’s driving you crazy.”

Tsukishima groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don't know what to do, Tadashi. I can't keep living like this.”

Yamaguchi patted his friend's shoulder. “You need to talk to them. Maybe they feel the same way.”

“I can’t," Tsukishima said firmly. “I don't want to make things awkward. It’s bad enough as it is.”

“Then you need to find a way to deal with it,” Yamaguchi said. “Running away isn’t going to help.”

Tsukishima knew he was right. But the thought of confronting his feelings, and you, was terrifying. “I just need some time away. To clear my head.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Alright, you can stay here for a few days. But promise me you’ll talk to them eventually. You can't avoid this forever.”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima muttered, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. For now, he just wanted to escape the turmoil inside him, even if it was only temporary.

As he settled onto the couch, Tsukishima couldn't help but wonder what you were doing right now. Were you worried about him? Angry? Did you even notice he was gone? He pushed the thoughts away, closing his eyes and trying to find some semblance of peace in the midst of his chaotic emotions.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, you were pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You had noticed Tsukishima’s absence immediately. It was hard not to when the apartment felt so empty without him.

You had called him three times already, each time more frantic than the last. Where could he have gone so early in the morning? And why hadn't he told you?

The morning stretched into afternoon, and Tsukishima remained at Yamaguchi’s apartment, wrestling with his thoughts while Yamaguchi went about his daily routines. The quiet hum of the television played in the background as Tsukishima sat on the couch, lost in contemplation.

Then the afternoon became night, then morning again. And suddenly, two days passed without further notice.

You sat down on the couch, staring at your phone. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe he just needed some space. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Three months had passed since the ‘lights out’ incident, and in that time, you had grown accustomed to Tsukishima's presence, even if he was distant and aloof. There was something comforting about knowing he was there, in the next room or sharing a meal in the kitchen.

You had tried to break through his walls, to get to know the person behind the cold exterior. But it seemed like every time you made progress, he would retreat even further. It was frustrating, but you were determined to be patient.

As you sat there, you realized just how much you missed him. His snarky comments, his occasional smirks, even the awkward silences. It was all part of the strange, complicated dynamic that had formed between you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that when Tsukishima returned, you would confront him. You would tell him how you felt and hope that he would finally open up to you.

“What if something happened to him?” you muttered to yourself, biting your lip anxiously. You knew Tsukishima was independent and capable, but the fear of the unknown nagged at you.

Finally, unable to sit still any longer, you grabbed your keys and rushed out the door. Maybe he had gone for a walk to clear his head, or perhaps he was at a nearby cafe. You had to find him, to make sure he was okay.

As you walked down the familiar streets, you replayed your interactions with Tsukishima in your mind. Despite his aloofness and occasional sharp words, you had noticed glimpses of something more beneath his tough exterior. There were moments when his guard seemed to lower, when he would share a small smile or a thoughtful comment.

But now, faced with his sudden disappearance, you wondered if you had missed something important. Had you pushed too hard, too fast? Were you the reason he had left?

Lost in your thoughts, you almost missed the familiar figure sitting alone on a bench in the park. Tsukishima sat with his head bowed, staring at his phone with a troubled expression.

Relief flooded through you as you approached him cautiously. “Kei,” you called softly, unsure of how he would react.

He looked up, surprised to see you there. His expression softened slightly, but there was still tension in his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been worried about you,” you admitted, standing in front of him. “You left without saying anything. Are you okay?”

What the hell? What’s going on with me? Tsukishima thought. Say something!

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away. “I was at Tadashi’s, and then I came to get some air. He lives ten blocks from here.”

“I understand,” you said gently, sitting down beside him. “But you could have told me. I was really worried. It’s been two days.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't mean to cause you any concern.”

“Tsukishima,” you started, gathering your thoughts. “We've been living together for three months now, and... I feel like we barely know each other. I want to understand what's going on with you, but you keep pushing me away.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. “Am I supposed to be sorry?” he murmured. “It wasn’t my intention or anything.”

Yeah, right.

As you listened to Tsukishima’s response, frustration and hurt welled up inside you. His dismissive tone and lack of remorse grated on your nerves, making it difficult to hold back your emotions.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tsukishima,” you replied, your voice tinged with disappointment. “But a simple ‘I’m sorry for worrying you’ would have sufficed.”

He looked away, a hint of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. “Oh, forgive me for not realizing I needed to report my every move to you,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Maybe not to you,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin. “But to me, it was. I care about you, even if you don’t seem to care about how your actions affect me.”

You felt a pang of hurt at Tsukishima’s cold response, his words cutting deeper than you expected. His aloof demeanor and sharp tongue were nothing new, but somehow, this stung more than usual.

“We’re not even friends, [Y/N],” he continued, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact. “We’re roommates. We don’t have to get along, it wasn’t on the contract.”

His dismissiveness struck a nerve, and you struggled to contain your emotions. “You’re right,” you replied, your voice steady despite the hurt bubbling inside you. “We’re roommates, but that doesn’t mean we can’t treat each other with basic respect.”

Tsukishima scoffed lightly, crossing his arms defensively. “Respect? Spare me the lecture, please.”

“You know what?” you said, your frustration simmering to the surface. “Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I thought there was more to you than this sarcastic facade. But clearly, I was wrong.”

He glanced at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me,” he retorted sharply.

“Then why don’t you tell me?” you challenged, your voice tinged with both anger and sadness. “Why don’t you let me in instead of pushing me away at every turn?”

Tsukishima looked away, his jaw tightening as if grappling with his own emotions. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, which was rare for someone usually so quick-witted.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered finally, his voice quieter than before.

“Try me,” you urged softly, your frustration giving way to genuine concern. “I want to understand, Kei. I want to know why you’re like this.”

He met your gaze then, his eyes guarded yet holding a hint of vulnerability. “Because it’s easier,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier than letting people in and risking getting hurt.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the walls he had built suddenly making sense. “But that’s no way to live,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. “Closing yourself off from everyone… It’s lonely, isn’t it?”

Tsukishima hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But that’s a me problem. I don’t need your help nor words of encouragement.”

You paused, taken aback by Tsukishima’s sharp rebuttal. His words stung, cutting through the fragile moment of vulnerability he had just shared. The raw honesty of his admission had felt like a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the person buried beneath the sarcasm and aloofness.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “But sometimes, we all need someone to lean on, even if it’s just a little.”

Tsukishima glanced up at you, his expression guarded once more. “I don’t lean on anyone,” he stated firmly. “I manage on my own.”

Your heart sank at his insistence on pushing you away. “You don’t have to face everything alone, Kei,” you said gently, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. “Let me be there for you.”

He tensed under your touch, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. “Why do you even care?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and defensiveness.

“Because I see more in you than you see in yourself,” you replied honestly, meeting his eyes with unwavering sincerity. “And because despite everything, I care about you.”

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly, though his defenses remained intact. “You’re too persistent,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Then, I’ll cease,” you answered, saddened by his awful attitude. “I’ll be at home. Let me know if I have to start looking for another place to live, though.”

Tsukishima watched you live without even flinching. He saw your move from side to side, and deep inside, he desired for you to turn around. To come back, to beg for him. Was he always this selfish?

He should be the one to be for you, to be for your forgiveness. Three months with nothing but a few words. Three months of ignoring his roommate. Three months with an unnoticed suffering.

“That was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Yamaguchi, arriving from behind Tsukishima. “And I’ve seen you reject multiple people in high school with the most monotone voice and evilness.”

Tsukishima’s expression hardened again as he turned to face Yamaguchi. “I don’t need your commentary,” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration.

Yamaguchi crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you clearly need something. What were you thinking, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I don’t know, okay? Everything’s just... complicated.”

“Complicated?” Yamaguchi echoed, shaking his head. “You like them, don't you?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly at the blunt question. “What does it matter?” he deflected. “They deserve better than someone who doesn’t even know how to talk to them properly.”

Yamaguchi stepped closer, his tone softening. “Then tell them that. Tell them how you feel. It’s better than pushing them away and hurting them even more.”

Tsukishima looked down at his feet, the weight of his own insecurities bearing down on him. “I’ll just ruin it all over again. I hate this.” he mumbled.

Yamaguchi’s expression softened further, empathy clear in his eyes. “You’re not going to ruin anything by being honest,” he said gently. “You’re human, Tsukki. You’re allowed to have feelings and make mistakes.”

Tsukishima clenched his jaw, grappling with the swirling emotions inside him. His mind raced through the memories of the past three months—your late-night cleaning sessions, your disdain for cold breakfasts and black coffee, the way you immersed yourself in the volleyball magazines he left lying around, your eyes lighting up whenever you found his name mentioned.

The way your eyes sparkled with genuine interest and admiration—it was something he had never experienced before. Something he didn't know how to handle.

He couldn't help but recall the countless times he had caught himself staring at you, wondering what it would be like to be close to you, to share more than just a living space. But he had built walls around his heart, walls he thought were impenetrable.

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima straightened his shoulders. He knew what he had to do, even if it terrified him. Yamaguchi was right—he couldn't keep pushing you away and hurting you. He needed to be honest, to take the risk, even if it meant exposing his vulnerability.

As he made his way back to the apartment, he replayed the conversation he wanted to have with you over and over in his mind. He practiced what he would say, how he would say it. But as he reached the door, all the rehearsed words seemed to evaporate.

Gathering his courage, he opened the door and stepped inside. You were sitting on the couch, looking lost in thought. Hearing the door, you looked up, surprise and apprehension flickering in your eyes.

“[Y/N], we need to talk,” Tsukishima said, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotion.

You nodded, sitting up straighter, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice raw. “I’ve been pushing you away because… because I was scared. Scared of getting close to someone. Scared of getting hurt.”

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest.

“But the truth is,” Tsukishima continued, his voice softening, “I’ve come to care about you more than I ever thought possible. I’ve been hiding behind these walls, but I can’t do it anymore. I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

Your eyes widened, tears threatening to spill over. “Kei… I…”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to try. I want to get to know you, to let you in. If you’ll give me a chance.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you smiled through it, the weight of the past three months lifting from your shoulders. “I’ve liked you too, Kei. Despite everything, I’ve always seen the good in you. And I want to give us a chance, too.”

Tsukishima let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. In that moment, the barriers he had built around his heart began to crumble, making way for something new, something hopeful.

If he was the moon, he hoped the stars would never leave his side again.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukki #yamaguchi tadashi

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