#and i still need to fix my graphics settings

[lateralusbionics]

. i'm just a humble corporate slave driving myself into a corporate grave .

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Summary: In life, we will be confronted with difficult choices. Sometimes you won't know you've made the wrong choice until it's too late

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 12,582 words

Warnings: Dead dove: do not eat, Angst, graphic violence and torture, mentions of predatory behavior towards a minor, Phillip Graves is a major creep, lots blood and injuries, kidnapping and its aftermath, hostage situations, anxiety and panic attacks, language, very explicitly described torture, ‘mega gets hit a lot, choking, biting, ‘mega gets stabbed with an ice pick, author can’t write COD missions, vomiting, lots of heavy emotions, detailed descriptions of pain, guns, background character dies on screen, descriptions of guilt and grief, lots of POV changes, some descriptive language of gore and blood at the end, rehashing of ‘mega’s injuries from the last chapter, a lot of angst and very heavy content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe

A/N: This chapter deals with some pretty heavy content. Please, please, please read and heed the warnings. I have included content warnings for the more graphic parts before they happen, so if you don't want to read those, you can skip ahead to the next part. I suggest taking breaks if you need to, read it in installments if necessary. And I cannot stress it enough, please heed the warnings.

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“Hi darlin’.” His grin widens like he’s happy to see you. “Been a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, your brain still sluggish. You feel sick as you try to process, try to figure out why and how. You try to move your arms again, but your wrists are stuck, hands burning as you pull. You desperately want them free, desperately need them free. 

“Easy,” Phil says, putting his hands on yours, pushing them flat against the arms of the chair. They’re warm and calloused, the same hand that had been on your face a few moments ago. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. More than you already have been.” He lifts your left leg, making you groan quietly as a deep ache throbs down to your foot and up to your hip. 

Running. A gunshot. Pain.

“He had strict orders not to harm you.” Phil says, adjusting the bandage wrapped around your calf. “Don’t worry. We got you all fixed up.” He sets your leg back down gingerly, his touch lingering for a moment before he looks back up at you. 

“Why?” You croak out, trying to make sense of what happened. 

Corporal McKinney broke into the barracks and chased you into the woods. He shot you and drugged you and now you’re here, restrained in a chair staring at a man you haven’t seen for years. A man who was once your dad’s best friend. 

“A lot has happened since we saw each other last.” He says, pushing himself to stand. “I left the Marines after a few years, formed my own group of military contractors. Invited your dad to join, but you know how he is. All honor and duty and serving the country. Of course, you haven’t seen him in quite a while, have you?” 

You stare up at him, starting to get scared. You never liked Phil. There was always something about him that put you off. He always stared too long, always sat too close to you. He always greeted you with a hug that lasted too long, squeezing you too tightly against him. He was sweet on you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. He could be intense, brash and almost downright rude sometimes. He was a firm believer in traditional packs too, even if he never spoke about his own pack, his own omega. He had to have one, if he was as dedicated as he said. 

He was far too much like your father. 

Phil was always kinder to you, though. Softer. Not quite as callous and bellicose as your father in public. He was polite, always happy to lend a hand, always glad to roughhouse with your brothers to get their energy out. You saw the way your mother looked at him though. Perhaps her apprehension bled into you, those dormant omega instincts picking up on something she was projecting. 

He made you uncomfortable, and she knew it. 

What could an omega do, though, in a world where they don’t have opinions, they can’t argue, they can’t disagree. Your mother never said anything because in the world your family existed in, the world Phil existed in, she couldn’t. 

“He was so angry when he called.” Phil continues, staring down at you. “Ranting and raving about how his oldest daughter betrayed him by presenting as an omega. He couldn’t stand having such a useless child in his perfect pack.” You flinch at his words, even though you heard your father spew those very words after your presentation firsthand. 

“He called you?” You ask, the pieces starting to come together as your brain finally snaps fully into awareness. You knew he called someone, but you hadn’t thought it would ever be Phil. 

“Of course.” Phil chuckles. “We were good friends, pals, buddies. He knew I could help him.” A shiver runs down your spine. You know what he’s going to say next. “So I did. I have some contacts in some high places, people who owe me favors. So I made some calls, pulled some strings, got you into FIOT immediately, with some strings attached of course.” He leans down so you’re almost face to face. “I wanted you. They put a note in your file. You wouldn’t be placed in the registry when you were old enough, you would go to me and my pack.” 

Bile churns in your stomach as you process his words. It all makes sense now. The stares, the hugs, the closeness with your father, your rapid enrollment in an institute that can take weeks to process applications. It was all so you could be his. Something he’s wanted from early on. 

“You would have been mine,” He pushes himself up straight again, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “If the fucking CIA hadn’t gotten involved!” You flinch as his voice raises, the frustration starting to darken his scent. “They froze your file, made the claim null and void. All for what, their little initiative that never really existed in the first place?” He huffs out a laugh, a smirk tilting his lips. “Small world, though. Who knew we’d be seeing each other again after so long.” 

He steps closer, looking down at you. You hold his gaze, suddenly feeling afraid. Even though you know him, even though you spent a good part of your childhood around him, you’re afraid of him right now. Your mind starts to revert back, the urge to lower your eyes, break eye contact like you’re supposed to flashing through your mind. 

Don’t stare alphas in the eyes. They’ll take that as a challenge. It’s not your job to challenge them. Your job is to be subservient. 

You would have been subservient to him if the CIA hadn’t gotten involved. You would have been under his control, bowing to him and his will. You’d have pups by now, at least one. He’d always talked about having a big pack with lots of pups someday, always glancing at you when he said it. 

You’re going to vomit all over him. 

It’s not just the truth that scares you, though. You’re being held captive here. That thought has registered in your mind now, the reality settling in as you get over the shock of the last few minutes. Corporal McKinney kidnapped you from base, and now you’re restrained in a chair surrounded by unknown alphas. Phil isn’t going to help you, take pity on you. He’s not here to be nice, to have a little chat and catch up on life.

That possibly ended as soon as he was denied what he wanted. 

His hand cups your chin, holding your face up as he looks down at you. His thumb is rough as it strokes your jaw, a tickling feeling starting in the back of your mind again. There’s an almost bittersweet look in his eyes as he holds your gaze. You refuse to lower it, refuse to give him that satisfaction. “You’ve grown up a lot.” He says, his hand sliding down your neck to the collar of your shirt. “You always were cute, though. I knew early on you were going to be an omega. You were far too...calm and compliant compared to your brothers. Always so polite and eager to please. You can tell if you pay attention, you know. Those dormant instincts start to show themselves long before presentation.” 

His hand pulls your collar to the side, revealing your mark. His eyes harden as he stares at it, his lips turning down into a frown. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness in his scent intensifies. He’s not holding you hostage just to tell you about what could have been, what direction your life might have taken. He’s here for a reason, and you know your pack is involved. Something has happened, something behind the scenes, something John was looking into. 

“What’s going on?” You ask as he releases your collar, taking a step back. 

“Well, you’re being held hostage.” He says, like it isn’t already obvious. “You’re...shall we say...leverage to ensure your pack follows orders.” 

You blink at him. You haven’t heard from or spoken to your pack in weeks. You should be relieved that they’re apparently still alive, but what if you had been right and they don’t want you anymore? Why would they take you if your pack has abandoned you? Or did they take you to ensure they wouldn’t...

“Laswell stuck her nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been.” Phil says, crossing his arms. “It’s only so long before your pack finds out. Let’s just say...they’re not going to be happy about it. So, to ensure they don’t do something impulsive and reckless as they are known to do, you’re going to play hostage.” 

You gulp as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Your scent spikes in the air, clouding it with the bitter scent of anxiety. It was the plan all along. You knew it even if you hadn’t been told outright. Deep down you’ve always known it wasn’t about strengthening packs. It wasn’t about studying how an omega would increase or decrease the efficiency of military packs. With the events of the last few months, the idea had started to form in your mind. You know you weren’t alone in those thoughts. John and Simon were digging into the cameras for a reason. They were put up for a reason. 

It was always about control.

That was the point of the initiative. That was why they put cameras up, that was why General Shepherd was so invested in the state of your pack and if you had been mated. He needed to ensure you were close enough to them so if something happened that wasn’t supposed to, you could be used against them. 

You’re nothing more than leverage. 

Your scent spikes in the air, clouding the room as reality sinks into you. Something happened that caused this. Something called your pack away to isolate you, to leave you vulnerable. They wanted you alone as a contingency. 

Something did happen. 

Now you’re here, being held captive by a man you used to know, a man who could have been your alpha had things not played out the way they did. The thought has your stomach churning. How far will they go? How far will Phil take things? Could he be merciful because of your history? Or will his ruined plan make him more ruthless? 

You’ll be punished for something you can’t control. 

Phil makes a soft sound as he looks at you, shaking with fear in the chair. “Don’t be scared. As long as your pack does as they’re told, I won’t have to hurt you.” He turns the light back to face you, nearly blinding you. “Now, smile for the camera.” 

They’re safe. 

It had been close. A rough position to be in, but they managed it. He never doubted them and their abilities, but four against nearly fifty with no backup were not good odds. He’s been in tighter places before, and while he had his doubts, he is grateful Johnny and Simon were sent in when they were. Even if it was a bit suspicious.

“All accounted for.” John says as he sinks down onto one of the jump seats next to Kyle. 

They’re all battered and bruised from their final fight. He’s ready to get home, ready to get back to you. From the sound of it, things were not going well, according to Johnny and Simon. He has a lot to make up for, a lot of apologies to make. 

“Fucking Russian PMCs.” He says, speaking to Kate over the comms. “It’s not a coincidence Kate.” 

Kate lets out a sigh that crackles through the comm. “No, it’s not. My team and I came across some information while we were digging into the cameras.” 

“What information?” He asks slowly and carefully. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to his pack. Especially when it comes to you. 

“Not just information on the initiative, but information on General Shepherd.” 

“What information?” He asks again, slower this time as Johnny and Simon move in closer. 

“Shepherd was the one that sold those weapons to AQ and the Russians.” 

John looks at the other three members of his team. He knew something was wrong, something was off about the way Shepherd had acted while informing them about this mission. “He wanted those missiles found and destroyed so he could cover his own ass.” He says, his stomach starting to twist. He doesn’t like the way this is going. 

“But we found out the truth before you could find all the missiles.” Kate continues. “He sent you on a wild goose chase to give himself a chance to escape.” 

John’s hand tightens into a fist. “Where is he now?” 

“He’s gone dark. Totally off radar.” 

John pushes himself up to stand, the adrenaline pumping again. “I’m going to find that bastard-” 

“John.” Kate says, cutting him off. “There’s something else.” 

The twisting in his stomach intensifies. There’s a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to entertain the dark thoughts that are brewing. “What?” 

“They took your omega.” 

His stomach clenches, his breath catching in his lungs. The other three shift on their feet, all of them stepping closer. The scent in the plane thickens, anger and confusion mixing into a toxic cocktail. He hopes he heard that wrong, that there was some kind of interference in the connection and his brain made up the words he missed. “Repeat that.” 

“They took your omega.” Kate says again.

He lets out a long breath, his muscles tensing. He’s had a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind for the last few days. Something was wrong, something was off. He should have known it was all a ruse. Why would AQ and the Russians store a missile in any of the places they had been sent to in the last week? It hadn’t made sense, and he had wanted to voice his doubts, but the consequences of a missile being launched because they decided not to look in one place was greater than his own perceived doubts. 

They had been right though. 

Of course it had all been a plan. Of course there had been something fishy about it. He’s hardly ever wrong. He’s been praised on his instincts on the field and off. He should have known. Pulling Simon and Johnny when they did should have been enough evidence, even if they had been needed in the end. 

“You’re positive?” He knows she is. There’s no mistaking something like that, there’s no doubting it. 

“There’s a video.” Kate says, John’s stomach dropping. “I’m sending it to you now.” 

John pulls out his phone, his fingers white as he holds it up. He’s angry, beyond angry. If they’ve laid a hand on you...if you’ve been hurt because of his own failings, his own inability to see the truth...

He clicks on the video when it comes in, a familiar face popping up on screen. “Hi boys. Been a while.” 

“Fucking Graves.” Johnny growls, his hands closing into fists in anger. 

“I have a little something of yours I think you might be interested in.” He turns the camera around, your face popping up on screen. You’re restrained in a chair, wrists red from the zip ties, but there’s a glare on your face, looking as mean and threatening as you can. There’s a bruise on your cheek and what looks like a healing cut on your lip. Someone hit you. 

“Smile for the camera.” Graves says, a bit too cheerfully. 

You don’t smile, your glare sharpening as the camera gets closer to your face. There’s still fight left in you. Whatever has happened hasn’t been too bad. Yet. 

“Let’s make this simple.” Graves says. “You stay away from Shepherd, and I won’t have to hurt this pretty little face. She is pretty, isn’t she?” 

You shift in the chair, your leg lifting before you kick outward. 

“Ow, you little bitch.” The camera jostles for a moment before it’s straightened back up, a hand shooting out to wrap around your throat. There’s no sign of any struggle, the glare still prominent on your face. “Feisty thing. Gotta keep up with those wild boys somehow.” 

The hand tilts your face just slightly, showing the mark on your neck. It is you, not that John doubted that from the beginning. It may have been almost two months, but he wouldn’t forget your face that easily. 

“Like I said,” Graves continues. “Follow your orders and she’ll be released unharmed.” 

The screen goes dark and John resists the urge to throw his phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, turning towards the wall of the plane. He throws his fist against the metal as hard as he can. It hurts, but he can barely feel it over the rage burning hot in him. 

“Fucking Shepherd!” He shouts, rearing back to throw his hand against the wall again.

Graves has his omega. Graves has his omega and now you’re being used as leverage. They’re all being played like puppets. 

A hand catches his fist before he can punch the wall again, easing him back. “Easy.” Kyle says, trying to soothe him as best he can. “We have proof of life, we know that she’s alright for now.” 

“For now.” He growls, looking around at the members of his team. “But for how long?” 

“They knew we’d go after Shepherd as soon as we learned the truth.” Simon says. “This has been in the plans for a long time.”

“They’re trying to get us to make a choice. Focus on getting our omega back while letting Shepherd escape, or go after Shepherd and let our omega be tortured.” Kyle says. 

“Those fuckin’ wankstains.” Johnny says, shifting on his feet. He’s angry, the bitter scent filling the enclosed area of the plane. They’re all angry, angry at those responsible, and angry at themselves for falling for it. “They were usin’ us the whole time.” 

John lets out a long breath. It’s a hard decision to make. Go after Shepherd and cut the head off the snake, or go after you and let the person orchestrating all of this escape. Graves won’t stop, even if they do manage to take out Shepherd. He has his orders, and he will follow them, with or without Shepherd pulling the strings.

There might be a second contingency. They kill Shepherd, you die too. 

No matter what, you won’t be safe. If they go after you, Shepherd escapes and if they try to hunt him down later, he’ll use you again, or worse. They don’t have to kill Shepherd, though. They have proof he’s a traitor. He can be brought to justice if he’s caught. Death is too gentle of a punishment for what he’s done. He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life. 

They have to make sacrifices for the good of the world. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” He says, taking a deep breath. “None of us will be safe if we don’t.” 

“That’s dangerous, John.” Kate says. “We don’t know how far Shepherd or Graves will take this. You know how Graves is. He may not be able to be stopped, even if Shepherd tells him to.” 

He takes a second to breathe. His pack is silent, all three of them staring at him, waiting for him to make this decision. He is pack alpha, he is their Captain. They do what he tells them to do, follow his orders no matter what. Kate is right, this is a risk, but sacrifices have to be made. Hands have to be dirtied to keep the world clean. 

He just hopes you’ll forgive him. 

“We’re going after Shepherd.” John says definitely. 

“This is a bad idea, John.” Kate warns him. 

“It’s the only option we have. They’re trying to draw us away. It’s a risk we have to take.” He can see the apprehension on his packmate’s faces. They’re all feeling it, the drive to go after their omega, but deep down he is right. They’ll never be safe until Shepherd is taken care of. Going after Graves only removes one small piece of the puzzle. The job always comes first. 

“Get us locations, places he might try to dig in and hide.” He says, heading towards the cockpit. “We’ll find this arsehole and kill him ourselves. 

***

Kate lets out a sigh as the comms close off. It’s a mistake. She knows it is. The guilt is eating her alive. She fell for this, she brought you into this, and now you might get hurt because of it. How she didn’t see the reality has shame burning through her. They were all blind, all led astray, all fooled by the red herring. 

There was never an initiative. It was never about strengthening packs. It was always about control. They wanted a way to control packs. Shepherd knew if the secret ever came out, there would be no stopping the consequences. Legal or illegal, retribution would come for him if the truth was revealed. 

This was his way of stopping it. 

That's why the 141 were the guinea pigs. 

They are the most dangerous threat to Shepherd, and he handed them a way to control them under the guise of strengthening packs, experimenting on how their dynamics and efficiency would shift with an omega added in. Even worse, they all fell for it. 

John is making a mistake. Graves won’t stop so long as Shepherd knows they’re coming after him. The last thing she wants is for you to get hurt because of their decisions, their mistakes. Shepherd won’t order Graves to kill you. That’s too much of a risk. It would give the 141 nothing to lose, and that would put them at their most dangerous. 

Will Graves listen to that order? 

She can send out a team to get eyes on Graves, find his position at least. That way, if things do take a turn, she’ll at least have a direction to point them in. 

They were all too trusting and ignorant. You’re innocent in all of this. 

It’s her fault. 

They’re going to need help. 

Christine can’t sit still anymore. She can't take it. It’s been almost eighteen hours since your disappearance and there’s been nothing. No word, no news. She knows you’re alive. Kate had confirmed that, but that hasn’t eased the burning questions eating away at her mind. What is your current state? Who took you and why? Where is your pack and are they even aware of what’s happening? 

She’s been sitting and twirling her thumbs. She can’t bring herself to do any paperwork, any research. What is there to do besides sit and worry? She doesn’t have a patient to take care of because she lost the one she was supposed to watch. 

She huffs out a breath, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Kate. If Kate won’t call, she’ll call herself. Kate’s probably busy though, so Christine can’t blame her too much for not calling. She’s probably so far from the front of Kate’s mind right now. 

The phone rings twice before Kate answers, sounding tired and disheveled, just as much as Christine feels. 

“Laswell.”

“Kate, I need to be there.” She doesn't hold back, doesn’t try to make small talk. There’s no time for it. She knows how Kate is doing, and it’s not great. 

“Christine, I don’t know if I can take that risk.” She says. 

“I need to be there. I can't take sitting around here anymore, and when you find her, she’s going to need someone she knows there, someone that knows how to take care of her.” Christine lets out a breath, the relief of getting her thoughts out taking some of the weight off her shoulders. 

Kate sighs, but she has to know Christine is right. She’s not sure what state you’re in, and depending on how bad it is, and where your pack is, you’re going to need her. Even if you think she was behind this. “I’ll have a plane ready to go in thirty minutes.” 

“Thank you, Kate.” She says, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Don’t miss the flight.” 

Christine hangs up, gathering a couple things from her office before closing and locking her door. She nearly runs to her barracks, packing a bag quickly. She’s not sure what to bring, or how long this will take. She’s not even sure exactly where she’s going. 

She hurries to the airfield, phone in hand. She’s not sure where the plane is or which one she’s taking. She’s just relieved Kate is doing this for her. 

Her phone buzzes as she reaches the tarmac, making her puse. She lets out an annoyed sigh before answering the call. 

“Of course you have to call at the worst possible moment.” She says. 

“I’ve always had the worst timing.” Alex’s voice comes through the speaker, and she can almost hear the smile on his face. 

“I can’t talk long. I’m about to board a plane.” She says. 

“I know. We’ll pick you up on the tarmac.” 

She blinks in surprise. It’s been years since she’s seen her brother, months since she’s spoken with him. Ever since he retired from Delta Force, his regular calls have been happening less and less, and they’ve reached near radio silence over the last couple years. Now he’s involved in this too? 

“Kate called in a favor.” He continues, and that’s all she needs to know. “We’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Yeah.” She says, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiles. Despite everything, she’s glad she gets to see her brother again. Glad she has some support in this. Your pack will be mad. They’ll blame her. She’s not afraid of them, but she knows Alex will stand behind her no

**Content Warning: light torture, ‘mega gets punched, further injury to previous injuries, panic attack**

Your hands are starting to go numb. The constant attempts to free yourself from the zip ties isn’t helping, but you’re beginning to get twitchy. Your omega is scratching at the back of your mind, begging to be free, but you know you won’t survive it. The room is full of armed mercenaries, and you’re sure if you tried to take out Phil first, you’d be pumped full of bullets before you could even do any damage. 

He’s leaning against the wall far too casually, staring at the phone he’d used to record the first video of you. His explanation had been simple. Your pack stops going after General Shepherd, you don’t get hurt. The longer they chase Shepherd, the more Phil gets to torture you until they decide your life is worth more than Shepherd’s. 

Will they choose you over Shepherd? What if they’ve already decided to abandon you? What if your fears were right and they’ve given up, and that’s why they were gone so long? They won’t care what happens to you, if they have written you off as a burden, as a loss. They’ll let Phil torture you to death and they won’t even blink an eye. You’ll just be another casualty. 

It makes your stomach hurt, the idea of your pack letting you die. Even the idea of someone who had once been a friend of your family being so cold towards you has nausea bubbling in your belly. He doesn’t care. His only worry is money, not the past. He doesn’t care. He’ll do the bidding of whoever offers the highest price. 

He lets out a sigh, pocketing his phone as he pushes himself off of the wall. “Looks like your boys don’t follow orders well.” He bends down, putting his hands on his knees so he’s face to face with you. “They’ve decided to leave you here with me. Looks like Shepherd was wrong. They don’t really care about you as much as everyone thought they did. Makes me sad, them abandoning you so easily.” 

You try to ignore his words, try to convince yourself he’s doing it on purpose, trying to mentally break you. Yet you can’t deny those words play exactly into your doubts, your fears. Have they really left you here, choosing Shepherd over you? Would they decide to do that? How easy had that decision been made?  

Tears blur your vision as you stare up at Phil, your eyes burning as you try to put on the bravest face you can. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, playing into your fears. 

“Unfortunately, that means I have to hurt you.” He stands up straight, staring down at you for a moment before pulling his fist back, hitting you across the face. 

You see stars for a moment, your head snapping to the side. The left side of your face is numb, the taste of metal flooding over your tongue. You’re bleeding, blood pooling in your mouth. A hand grips your chin, pulling you back so you’re sitting up straight in the chair. You stare up at Phil, the fear fading away to anger as you glare up at him. Your face is throbbing, and you know it’s going to swell and bruise later, more than it already has thanks to Corporal McKinney. 

Traitorous bastard. 

They all are. 

“I do feel bad for hurting that pretty face.” He says, stroking your jaw with his thumb. 

The movement is impulsive, the anger becoming too much. You spit the blood in your mouth in his face, the droplets splattering across his skin. He turns his head away for a moment, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the blood. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” He says, looking down at you. 

“Fuck you, you fucking creep!” You yell, kicking at him with your bad leg. 

He releases your face, catching your leg easily. He pushes his thumb against the bullet wound, all the fight leaving you as pain tears through your body. You let out a scream, trying to pull your leg away but he won’t let you. He holds his thumb there as you scream, the tears streaming down your face. 

“Okay, okay please! Please stop!” You beg, the pain radiating up into your hip and side. You can’t take it anymore, your brain starting to go fuzzy as you hyperventilate. 

He releases your leg, his hand wrapping around your throat to lift your face. The tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood from the cut on your cheek. There’s no sympathy, not even regret in his eyes as he stares down at you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you can’t behave, I’ll have to do just that.” He releases you as you continue to hyperventilate, your eyes starting to glaze. You’re distressing. Will Phil help you? Will he do what he has to do to keep you alive? If you die, there won’t be anything stopping your pack. The entire plan will be over. They’ll go after Shepherd, then they’ll hunt down Phil. 

Cold ice water hits you in the face, shocking you back into clarity. Phil is holding the cup of water he’d been letting you drink from periodically. You blink at him as water drips into your eyes, your breaths hitching but far slower than they had been. You’re awake and aware now. 

You didn’t even know it was possible to do that. 

“Don’t distress on me now.” He says, putting the cup down. “We have so much ahead of us.” He moves around to the back of your chair, bending down until his breath hits your ear. “Besides, you make me help you out of distress, I might not be able to stop myself.” 

Your eyes pinch closed as his lips brush the shell of your ear before he stands back up, tears mixing with the icy water still sliding down your face. 

Christine nearly runs down the ramp once the plane has stopped on the runway. She’s jet lagged and worn out after eight hours of worrying, but she’s eager not only to finally get some news on you and your status, but to see her brother for the first time in a long time. 

It’s not hard to find him. 

“Chrissy!” He grins, hugging her tightly. 

She has half a mind to complain about the nickname she’d endured her entire childhood, but she can’t find it in her as she hugs her brother tightly. She’s missed him, more than she realized. Their jobs have kept them busy, her with her medical studies and practice, and Alex with...whatever it is he does. 

“It’s been far too long.” She says, pulling away from him. She’d love to stand there and hug him for an hour, but she can’t. They have more important things to do. Time is of the essence, if her worst fears are true. 

“A lot has happened, a lot has changed.” He says. 

She looks him over, spotting the more noticeable changes in comparison to the last time they were face to face. “You could say that.” 

“We can talk about it later.” He turns to the other person with him, a woman. “Christine, this is Farah.” He introduces her. “Farah, this is my baby sister Christine.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Farah says, shaking her hand. 

“You as well.” Christine looks between them for a moment. She knows that look in Alex’s eyes as he looks at Farah. 

“We should get moving.” Farah says, ignoring him. 

“Laswell has moved off the grid.” Alex says, opening the driver’s side of the SUV. 

Smart, if things are as bad as she thinks they are. 

Christine gets into the back, letting out a long breath. She’s closer now to finding out what’s happened to you. The guilt is still eating her alive. If she just hadn’t left, if she hadn’t believed the phone call, put it above your safety. 

Things might have been worse if she had stayed. 

“Kate filled us in about everything.” Alex says as he drives away from the airfield. “At least in regards to the pack and your involvement.” 

“There’s some things she’s not telling us.” Farah says. “Though if things are as bad as they sound, I don’t blame her.” 

“I don’t know much of anything.” Christine says, staring out the window as they drive out of the city. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t left her alone...” 

“It’s hardly your fault.” Alex says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “If this was all planned, there wouldn’t have been anything that would stop it from happening.” 

“They might have done worse if you had stayed there.” Farah says, speaking Christine’s own fears aloud. 

“I wish I could see her. Make sure she’s alright.” Christine says. “If something happens to her...” 

“From what I hear she’s a hardy omega.” Alex says, trying to comfort her. “She’s withstood a lot. She can survive the 141, she’s probably giving them hell as we speak.” 

**Content Warnings: light torture, choking to the point of almost passing out, blood, very detailed descriptions of pain, non-fatal stabbing**

It’s getting hard to breathe. Phil’s grip around your throat is getting tighter and tighter, less and less oxygen getting to your bloodstream and your brain. Your mouth has an almost permanent metallic taste as blood drips down your chin. Blood stains Phil’s arm from where you bit him, teeth marks red and angry looking from where they broke the skin. 

“You fucking bitch.” He growls, jaw clenched. “Your alpha should have taught you some manners.” 

His hand squeezes tighter, cutting the air off entirely. You begin to panic, tugging against the restrains with your raw, cut up wrists. Black dots begin to dance in your vision, your legs straining against the zip ties keeping them attached to the chair. Your hands and feet are going numb, your entire body tingling. This is it. You’re going to be choked to death. 

He holds his hand there for a moment, letting you struggle before he lets go and you suck in a gasp of air. You slump over in the chair, blood splattering on the floor as you cough, your throat raw and sore. Tears burn in your eyes as you heave, trying to get the oxygen flowing through your body again. 

Phil bends down to your level as you sit there, head hanging as blood drips from your mouth. Your tongue is raw from how many times you’ve bitten it. It’s impossible to tell how much time has really passed. There’s no windows in the room. The only light source is the cracks around the door behind you. Even then with the bright light in your face constantly, it’s hard to tell anything anymore. 

“Feisty still, but everyone has their limits.” His hand cups your chin as he stands, lifting your face to follow him. His hand holds the back of your head up as he wipes at the blood under your nose and on your chin almost gently. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare up at him, unable to even care anymore that his hand is so close to your neck. All he has to do is move it down just slightly and squeeze and you’ll be unaware of anything around you, at the mercy of his bidding. 

That would almost be a relief. 

He dumps another icy cup of water over your head, keeping you from slipping too much into a panic. The cold water stings the cut on your chest and the one on your arm as it slides down your shoulders. You’ve lost the ability to feel the throbbing in your calf, numb to most of the pain in your body. 

Why haven’t they come for you? Where is your pack? 

Have they written you off for good? Was finding Shepherd more important than you? 

Phil’s phone goes off, your stomach dropping. He stares at the screen for a second before turning back to you. 

You shake your head, the tears cascading down your cheeks. “No,” You start to shake. “No, please-” 

“You know I have to, darlin’.” He moves behind you, tugging on your hair to keep your head up as one of his men stands in front of you with a phone in hand. 

He counts down on his fingers before pressing record. 

“Seems you boys still can’t follow orders. Your omega sure wishes you would.” Phil says as he reaches around your head, holding your chin in his hand. He tilts your head back making you look up at him. “Don’t you, darlin’. Tell them. Tell them how much you wish they’d follow orders.” 

You’re still crying, unable to stop as you stare at the camera. They really have given up on you. They’ve deemed you unworthy of saving. They’ve let you sit here and be beat up and tortured all because they put the job first. 

They really have given up on you. 

Are they even watching? 

“Please,” You croak out, half begging your pack to care, half begging Phil to have mercy. 

“Since you can’t seem to bring yourselves to care about your own omega,” He shifts slightly, someone handing him something behind you. You catch a glint of metal, your heart rate picking up. You’re panicking, breaths coming in shaky gasps. You know he can do worse. He’s threatened worse, but what is he going to do? “It seems you need a little more...motivation.” 

You try to wiggle out of his grasp in panic, wrists bleeding again from tugging at the zip ties. They’re coated in your blood, your leg throbbing but you don’t care. You need to get away, get free. “No, no-”

You let out a scream. 

It’s sharp and piercing, but nowhere near the sharp pain in your neck. It fires through your very nerve endings, making you aware of the very cells in your body. It shoots up into your brain, igniting every neuron in your brain. Your very blood feels like it’s boiling, your skin on fire from the pain. Every inhale feels like you’re breathing in sand, and every exhale is like glass shards dragging through your lungs and up your throat. The tears streaming down your face may as well be slicing through layers of skin, every wound pulsing and throbbing with a new kind of angry vengeance. 

You’re sobbing, nearly choking on air as the pain continues to pulse in your body. It’s too much, every sensation inside and outside of your body meshing together in an agonizing harmony. 

“Shhh.” Phil tries to shush you as he bends down, his cheek resting against the side of your head. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go limp in the chair. 

Your scream still hangs in the air even after the video ends. 

It’s otherwise silent in the room, all eight of them feeling the weight of their decisions on their shoulders. The scents in the air are full of pain and regret and guilt and anger. 

“Was that fatal?” Kate asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“No.” Christine chokes out, her voice shaky. Her hands are trembling where they’re tucked against her sides. Her arms are crossed over her chest, trying to bring herself some kind of comfort after what she had just watched. “He went for the scent gland. It’s not a fatal injury, unless you go too deep, but he knew what he was doing.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s just incredibly painful.” 

Her words hang in the air for a moment, all of them still trying to process what they had just seen. 

John slams his hands on the table, all of them jumping. “I fucking told you.” He says, his voice laced with the deep growl of his alpha. “I fucking told you Kate, she should have been flown out here as soon as you made the call.” 

“I know.” Kate says, undeterred by his anger. She’s seen it many times, though she’s rarely been on the receiving end of it. “I know, I made a bad call. None of us knew they would take it this far.” 

“But we knew something was going on behind the scenes.” John says, still radiating anger. “All precautions should have been taken.” 

“There was no guarantee her being here would have stopped them. She might not have been any safer here.” Kate says, trying to ease his anger, even though she knows it’s completely warranted. “This goes far deeper than we thought it did. Even before this plan was set into motion.” She waits a moment, letting the air settle. “A year ago, a convoy was smuggling missiles and other weapons into the Middle East in an off-the-books operation. The convoy was attacked and the missiles and arms were stolen by a Russian PMC group. The operation was conducted under the command of Shepherd, and the soldiers in the convoy were all Shadow Company.” 

“That’s how Graves is tied into this.” Kyle says. 

“It goes deeper than that.” Kate says, pulling up a file and displaying it on screen. “The missiles and weapons being smuggled weren’t being sent to aid allies in the Middle East. Shepherd sold them to AQ and the Russians. The PMC group that attacked Shadow Company was hired by Shepherd to make it look like an ambush.” 

“Fucking weasel.” Simon growls. 

“I don’t know how much Graves knows, or how much he helped hide the entire operation, but his ties to this go even deeper.” Kate says, and they all shift closer. “Graves has history with your omega.” She says, pulling up an old photo. “We combed through one of her brothers’ Facebook pages. Found an old photo of her dad with Graves. They served on the same base when her family lived in Texas before Graves left to join MARSOC. She would have still been a child at the time.” 

They stare at the photo, Graves clearly identifiable as he stands next to another man, beers in their hands. There’s two other boys in the photo, young and grinning at the camera. Standing in front of Graves is a little girl, a happy grin on her face. They’re all in various combinations of red, white, and blue. 

4th of July, they assume. 

“That’s how she got into the institute so fast.” John says, staring at the photo. He’s never seen a photo of your father before. You must take after your mother. “Graves pulled the strings.” 

Kate nods. “He did, but under the condition he would be the one to claim her when she grew old enough. The CIA wiped out that claim when they froze her file.” 

The 141 all shift on their feet, sharing looks. John feels a sick twisting in his stomach at the implications. Your position in the photo suddenly makes sense. Anger burns in him, deep and bubbling like magma. He’ll kill the bastard. 

“This is revenge then.” Johnny says. 

“In a way, I think.” Kate says. “We took away what he wanted. Graves wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” 

“This all is what the initiative was created for.” Christine says, leaning against the table. “A contingency in case this all was uncovered.” 

“A way to control us.” Kyle says. 

Kate nods. “Yes. It was all a plan to give the 141 a weakness, a way to be controlled should the situation arise. In this case it just so happened to be the uncovering of his traitorous arms deals.” 

“We were all pawns in this.” Christine says. 

“We let them walk right in and take control like that.” John says, turning to Christine. “You let them walk in and take our omega.” 

She turns to face him, undeterred by his agitation and anger. “I did what I thought was right at the time. I got a call from one of the front desk workers in the med center saying that someone was waiting in my office for me.” She explains. “They wouldn’t say who it was, and the whole thing felt off. I knew whoever would be visiting me was not going to be friendly, so I felt it was safer to leave her in the barracks than take her with me and risk something happening in a place she doesn’t know well. In the barracks at least she’d know places to hide and barricade herself.” 

She takes a deep breath, still facing down John fearlessly. He’s coiled tight like a spring, ready to jump at any moment should he deem it necessary. It’s those protective instincts, the knowledge that his omega is somewhere else, taken unwillingly and being tortured feeding into that need to fight. 

“My office door was open when I got there.” She continues. “I always leave it locked. I went in prepared to fight, but I was attacked from behind. Hit over the head and drugged with something fast acting, something that would keep me incapacitated long enough for him to strike.” She stares up into his eyes, projecting her scent just a bit to try and get him to calm down. “We all made mistakes here, things we thought were the right choice at the time.” 

She’s not wrong. They all know it. They had just seen proof of it.  

“The assailant?” John asks, turning back to Kate. 

“Corporal McKinney.” Kate says. “He was in Shepherd’s pocket from the start. Someone who could watch first-hand. Someone who could sneak into the barracks unnoticed without many questions. He was likely the one that put the cameras up.” 

“Fucking wanker.” Simon growls. “He approached her once in the mess. Early on. Tried to introduce himself to her. Backed off as soon as I intervened. Never tried again, at least that we know of.” 

“She never mentioned him.” Christine says. “Or anyone else on base that might have tried to approach her.” 

“Where is he now?” Kyle asks. They’re all angry, frustrated. How had they not seen this happening? 

“Local police tracked his car to an abandoned airfield not far outside of Hereford.” Kate says. “He was dead inside. Police ruled it suicide.” 

“I’m sure it was.” John says. 

They all know it wasn’t. 

“Shadow Company likely picked her up from there with orders to stage a suicide.” Kate says. 

“One less loose string to worry about.” Simon says. “Covers their tracks in England.” 

They all go quiet. How this had all happened right under their noses? They’re all guilty of falling for it, for being too trusting in a world they know they can’t be too careful in. Allies can turn on a dime and become enemies. Betrayals can be easily bought. Things can turn downhill within a blink of an eye. They’re supposed to be prepared for the worst, ready for every possibility. 

They had written this off as a conspiracy, and now their omega is paying for it. 

“We need a plan.” Farah says, breaking the silence. 

“We can’t let Shepherd get away.” John says. 

“We cannae just leave her.” Johnny argues against his alpha. It’s a brave thing, considering his alpha’s current mental state.  

“I don’t know how much more she can take.” Simon backs his beta up, the desperation and pain on your face still visible in all of their minds. 

“Let us go after Shepherd.” Alex says, offering up a solution. “He’s obviously watching for you to come after him.” 

“We can move undetected.” Farah agrees. “He’s less likely to expect us. You need to focus on your omega. Shepherd will show himself again eventually.” 

“Do we have a lead on their location?” Kyle asks, turning back to Kate. 

She nods. “We do now. I sent a team out to try and track location through the videos and where they were being sent from.” She pulls a map up on screen. “We have a location.” 

“Texas.” Alex says. 

“He took her home.” Christine says. 

“We have a plan then. We go after Graves, Farah and Alex start tracking Shepherd. Kate is eyes in the sky for us.” John says. 

“She’s going to need medical attention as soon as possible.” Christine says. She looks at Kate. “Where is the nearest military base from their location?” 

Kate types on her computer. “Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base in Fort Worth.” 

“Get me there and I’ll be waiting. She’s going to need someone she knows.” She says, looking at John. “She’s not going to just let anyone close to her after this. She may not even let you close.” 

John stares down at her for a long moment. She stares back unflinchingly. She doesn’t get intimidated easily, not after years of dealing with institutes and alphas alike. 

He lets out a breath, staring down at her for a long moment before he nods. “I trust you.” 

“Short reunion this time.” 

“I’m just glad I got to see your face again.” Christine says, looking up at Alex. 

“Things are...complicated.” He says. “Maybe after all of this is over we can go and get some coffee. Talk about our lives...as much as we can.” 

The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

Alex pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly. “You’re doing good work, Chrissy.” 

She shakes her head at the nickname, but she holds him just as tightly. “I’m trying to.” 

Alex pulls away, squeezing her arms. “I’d say you are. You care a lot. To the point some might call it a character defect.” 

She scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Not like you’re much better.” She glances at the car where Farah is waiting patiently. “I’m happy for you.” 

“Oh, we’re....” Alex blushes to his ears. “We’re not...” 

She gives him a look. “Mhm sure.” She looks up at him one more time. “Be safe.” 

“As best I can.” He says. “Take care of yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself either.” 

“I try not to be.” She squeezes his hand before stepping away. 

She watches the SUV drive off, stomach churning with nerves for both of them. Shepherd is dangerous, but Alex has fearlessly faced down danger since he was a kid. He’s always been brave and determined, loyal and unafraid to do what he thinks is right no matter what. She trusts him to take care of himself, she trusts Farah to help him, even if she only met the woman today. 

She trusts them both to take care of each other. She trusts them both to help put an end to this. 

**Content Warning: Blood, vomiting, 'mega forces herself into a panic attack**

Your body aches, muscles screaming. You can’t take much more. Your cheek throbs painfully, swollen to the point you almost can’t see out of your left eye. The pain burning from your neck makes the other pain in your body nearly irrelevant, nearly nonexistent. It’s like electricity, burning through your very cells. Every movement seems to make it flare, makes the electric shock jolt through you. The burning pain that follows makes you whimper, a pathetic choking sound squeaking out from your bruised throat. 

The pain makes you nauseous, vomit staining the front of your shirt and pants. It’s mostly bile and the little food you’ve gotten since your kidnapping. 

Nutrient bars, meant to keep you fed and nourished for a short period of time. 

You may never be able to eat them again. 

“Fuck.” Graves curses, staring at his phone. “They’ve backed off.” He steps up to you, looking down on your pathetic form. “Looks like your boys do care about you after all.” 

Do they? Are they really coming for you, or have they simply given up chasing Shepherd because they lost all their leads. Will they come for you, or will they leave you here to rot? What will Graves do then? Try to take you as his own omega? Kill you out of anger? 

Your stomach churns and you can feel the bile rising. 

You vomit again, the warm liquid splashing into your lap. You can’t lean far enough anymore, not without the risk of not being able to pull yourself back up, not with the pain burning your every movement. You can’t even lift your head anymore, your body weak and battered and bruised. There’s blood everywhere, on you and on the floor. You can still taste it in your mouth, mixing with the sourness of bile. 

Graves gives you a disgusted look before turning to the others in the room. “Duran, Lewis, keep watch. The rest of you come with me.” 

He leaves the room for the first time in what you assume is days. For once the cocktail of scents begins to disperse, all but two of the alphas finally disappearing. Where they’re going or what they’re going to do, you don’t know. You can’t bring yourself to care either way. You just want to go home. You want to see your mother again, your brothers and sisters, even your father would be a welcome sight after this. You want your alpha, you want him to hold you, to take you in his arms, keep you safe.

He abandoned you. He left you to suffer like this. 

Your breathing picks up as you sit there, chin to chest as you stare at your bloody shirt. The smells in the room are awful, the scents no longer there to block out the sour bile and metallic stench blood. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, pink tinted splatters dripping onto your pants. What are you going to do now? What are they going to do to you now? Will they keep you alive long enough for your pack to arrive then kill you in front of them? Will they torture them too, make them watch as the life slowly leaves your eyes in revenge for chasing after Shepherd? 

A sob rips through your sore throat up out of your lips. 

You just want to go home. 

You just want to be free. 

You can be. 

Distress. The final defense. The last ditch effort omegas have to save themselves. Distress will lead to your omega taking over, and if nothing else, a quiet death you won’t even realize is happening. Your body will give out and you’ll be safely tucked into the back of your brain, comforted by your instincts. You won’t have to worry anymore. You won’t have to care. 

If nothing else, the pain will be over. 

I’m sorry. 

You begin to breathe heavier, ignoring the pain in your body as you push yourself to hyperventilate. The alphas behind you might do something, might try to stop it. They could, but would they even know how? Would it even work if you got too far? They’re not your alpha. They can’t comfort you, bring you back from the edge without forcing you. Will they even bother? 

You tilt your head to the side, putting pressure on your injured scent gland. You sob at the pain, the burning flowing straight into your very cells, making them scream. You push through it, your wrists twisting against the zip ties, digging them further into your already damaged wrists. The pain pushes you to a point of panic, your heart rate through the roof. You can feel it, the tightening of your muscles, your joints locking into place. 

You’ve never done it purposefully before, but in this state, it’s not hard. 

They left you. They’ve abandoned you. They’ve given up. It’s all your fault they left. They’re not coming for you. You’re not worth it. 

The thoughts send you down the spiral, the edges of your vision starting to go dark. You’re floating away, hands and feet going numb as your wheezing, shallow breaths block the oxygen from getting to your brain. You’re sinking, your body floating as you begin to retreat into the back of your mind. The cage is open, your omega soothing you as you drift off, curling up in the back recesses of your mind. 

You’re safe now. She whispers. 

There’s no going back. 

You’re going to get out. 

Even if you have to do it yourself. 

The last breath you remember taking is shaky, making you cough before your vision begins to fade to grey, then to black. You’re getting out of here no matter what. You’re going to go to sleep. If you fail, you’ll never know it. Your death will be quick and gentle and you’ll never know it happened until you’ve moved on to whatever is next. 

You won’t remember any of this. That’s your only consolation. 

Your vision fades to black as all memory and awareness leaves you. The last thing you remember is the snap of the zip ties around your wrists as they break. 

“Graves has moved with some of his men to the western building. It’s likely the hostage is being held in the eastern building. Gaz and I will go after Graves. Ghost and Soap will try to secure the hostage.” 

“Keller is on her way to NAS JRB as we speak. They’re on standby for medevac.” 

“Stealth is our priority. They know we’re here, we risk losing the hostage. Quick and quiet, take them by surprise. The faster we do this, the sooner it will all be over.” 

**Content Warning: blood and slight gore, someone gets shot offscreen, some gorey and explicit imagery towards the end**

He’s not unfamiliar with high stakes missions. It’s his specialty. He’s cool and calm under stress and pressure, which is why he gets chosen for them. He can detach easily, get the job done and then go home and forget. 

So why are his hands shaking? 

This isn’t a high stakes mission, not like one he’s used to doing. The stakes are higher, higher than he’s ever had before. It’s not just eliminating some faceless target, it’s not just rescuing some faceless hostage. 

It’s rescuing you. 

He hates that you were involved in all of this. He hates that they all fell for it, blind to the truth, blind to Shepherd’s traitorous actions. They refused to entertain those conspiratorial thoughts, and now you’re paying for it. He knows why Price made the decision he did, he understands the logic behind it. 

He hated it, though. 

How far would Graves have taken it if they had chosen to go after you first. Would things have gotten this bad? Or would he still have hurt you, tortured you just out of sheer anger for what happened between the two of you? He wouldn’t give up just because Shepherd told him to stop. He’s ruthless and uncaring of who he hurts and why. He gets his orders and he completes them, no matter what, so long as whoever is giving those orders can pay a high enough price. 

How much did he get for this assignment? How much did he settle for once he learned you were involved? 

Far too much despite that fact, most likely. Maybe he should become a merc. Less rules and more money.

It’s not a bad idea. 

He lasers his focus on the building as they creep through the trees, moving silently. Two against however many are inside. It was impossible to tell with how many were moving between the two buildings constantly. 

He brought the whole squad. He planned on putting up a fight regardless. 

At least they have the element of surprise on their hands. 

“We move silently through the building.” He says as they approach the door. There’s two guards standing outside. “They know we’re inside, things could go downhill quickly.” 

“On you, LT.” Johnny says, taking point beside him. 

“Drop one, I’ll take the other.” He says, aiming at one of the two Shadows guarding the door. 

It’s quick and quiet, their bodies slumping onto the damp dirt. Simon scans the area before moving forward to the door. It’s unlocked, Johnny pushing it open slowly to check for a trip wire. 

None. 

Sloppy, or perhaps on purpose. They can’t be too careful. Shepherd will have let Graves know they’re not on his trail anymore. He’ll be expecting them. 

They split up, combing the bottom floor of the building. He takes out two more Shadows, checking every room for a sign of their target, but they find none. 

“Second floor.” He says, waiting at the base of the stairwell for Johnny to join him. 

“You think she’s in here?” Johnny asks as they creep up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. 

“Well, we’ll find out.” 

It’s far too unguarded to where they’re holding you. Graves will have assumed they’d split up. He must have moved most of his men to the western building to put up as much of a barricade as possible. He can picture Graves standing there, the smirk on his face as he holds a gun to your head. Will he take that risk, shoot you in front of them and give them nothing to live for? Or will he use a knife, letting you die a slow, painful death in front of them? 

Or, maybe he moved them to the western building to make them think that’s where you are. Focus their attacks there so they leave you behind. He gets cornered, he send the word to kill you before any of them can get to you. 

More red herrings. 

He pauses before he reaches the top of the steps, taking out the shadow standing down the hallway. They split up again, looking through rooms at the top of the stairs, making their way down the hallway. 

One of the doors is open, and he silently motions for Johnny. He counts down silently in his head before rounding the corner, rifle up as he scans the room. His stomach churns as he looks inside, taking a couple cautious steps forward. He’s seen a lot of things in his time, done a lot of things, but this is different. 

“Screaming Jesus.” Johnny says, lowering his rifle as he steps in behind Simon. 

There’s blood everywhere. 

It’s coating the floors, leaving a sticky residue as it dries. It’s the room you were in. He recognizes it from the video, and the bright light in the corner is a dead giveaway. The chair in the middle of the room has been broken, the wood of the arms snapped off and splintered. There’s four bloody zip ties on the floor, along with several instruments on the floor including the ice pick. 

He wants to shove that into Graves’ eye for what he did to you. 

There’s two bodies on the floor, one of them dead in a pool of his own blood, the other choking as blood seeps onto the floor under him. He steps up to the shadow, putting his boot on his chest and pushing. The Shadow lets out a groan, coughing up blood. 

“Where the fuck is she?” He growls, staring down at the quickly paling face. 

“Fucking bitch went crazy.” He chokes out. “Went running.” 

Simon steps back, pulling out his handgun and firing two bullets into the Shadow’s head. 

“Price, we found the room.” He says into his comm. “The hostage isn’t here. A half-dead Shadow said she bolted.” 

“LT.” Johnny says, motioning to the door, the only other exit from the room. There’s a bloody handprint on the door, one too small to be one of the Shadows’. 

“I think she managed to get out.” He says, staring at the handprint. His stomach drops, his hand tightening around his rifle. He glances down at the bodies, throats cut and faces bloody. “I think her omega took over.” 

“You and Soap go after her. She’ll do the one thing she knows to do, the one instinctual thing she can do if she has nothing to fight.” Price says. “We’ve got Graves cornered.” 

Simon pushes the door open, cool air flowing into the stuffy room. There’s bloody shoe prints heading down the stairs. He can see the rapid turn on the concrete below before they head off towards the trees. 

“I’ve got a trail.” He says. 

“Go.” Price says. “Simon...you know what you have to do.” 

He does.

He motions for Johnny to follow before hurrying down the stairs. The longer they delay, the further you’ll get. He doesn’t doubt some Shadows followed you if you made that much of a ruckus. The more time they waste, the more dangerous things get, and not just because they might lose you or the shadows might catch up. 

He races towards the treeline, rifle in hand, but there’s no one else standing guard. Price and Gaz will have taken care of those in the other building, and those that were outside probably went after you. 

He slows once they break the treeline, trying to catch any hint of your scent that might be left. His only hope is that you’ve left a trail. He’s a tracker, he knows what he’s doing. His senses are stronger, more in tune. He can find you. He can track you down. He has to. 

The guilt is eating him alive. If something happens to you, he’ll never forgive himself. He’s right here, so close and yet so far. You’re running on borrowed time and there’s only so much of it left. Eventually you have to slow, eventually your body will start giving up. Will it be too late then? If a Shadow finds you when you can’t fight back...

“Dead Shadow ahead.” Johnny says, motioning to the slumped over body ahead of them. “We’re on the trail.” 

“Let’s hope she left more markers on the way.” He says, kicking the Shadow, but the stab wound in his neck is all Simon needs to know. “Keep going straight.” He says, continuing on the path they’ve been following. He needs just a whiff, a hint of your scent. Something. 

They come across another dead Shadow, this one off to the side of the path they had been following. He turns, making an adjustment before moving forward. Johnny keeps close, both of them watching for more Shadows, or for any glimpse of you. All they can hope is they’re on the right path. 

He nearly sets off in a run as he hears a sound ahead. It’s a yowl, almost like a mountain lion. It sends a tingle down his back, his alpha blaring warning alarms. A threatened omega is a dangerous thing. Fierce and protective of themselves, capable of great feats and lethal if you get too close. 

It’s you, no doubt. 

Price had been right. 

He has no choice. 

He pushes forward, his steps quick as he makes his way through the bushes. He spots you near a boulder, trying to fight off a Shadow. He’s got the upper hand, using his size against you. You’re getting tired, your movements slowing. Simon aims with his rifle, a shot to the head dropping the Shadow. You drop into a crouch, surveying the trees. You’re covered in blood, a knife in your hand as your wild eyes search for them. 

“Distract her.” He says to Johnny. “Make yourself as unthreatening as possible. I’ll go around and get her from behind.” 

He doesn’t even wait for an acknowledgement before he’s moving, slipping around to the side of the boulder. Johnny steps into the clearing slowly, holding his hands up, talking to you quietly.

“Easy, kitten. Ye know who I am.” Johnny is careful not to get too close, his steps slow as he moves to the side, getting you to turn. “We’re just here to help ye. Get ye home and safe.” 

You’re holding the knife up, brandishing it at Johnny. Simon isn’t sure if you’ve ever thrown a knife before, but he doesn’t put it past you to try in this state. 

He hopes Johnny’s reflexes are fast enough. 

He slips out from behind the boulder as you pause, wasting no time as he races up behind you and grabbing you before you can bolt or go for Johnny’s neck. You let out another yowl, struggling against him as he wraps an arm around your chest. Your teeth sink into his arm and he lets out a curse, but he doesn’t let go. He lets go, they won’t get another chance. It’ll be too late. 

He doesn't want to do it. His mind flashes back to his father and mother, one of the few times his mother fought back. It hadn’t lasted long before her body went limp, practically a ragdoll in his father’s hold. Simon had grabbed Tommy and ran, barricading them in his room. They didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. 

He doesn’t want that kind of control over you, he doesn’t want to put you through that trauma. The disorientation, the fear, the confusion. That must have been what it felt like after being sedated during your heat. You had been sick for days, crying in Johnny’s room. He had heard every sob, every attempt to soothe you. 

He put you through that. He made you face that down despite the fear on your face as Johnny escorted you to the med center. 

And now he has to do it again. 

He has to this time. He has no choice. His only other option is to let you die. Price will never forgive him. Johnny won’t even look at him again. He’d betray them worse than you did, worse than Shepherd, worse than Graves. 

You never really betrayed them in the first place, though. 

You were afraid, untrusting of them, unsure because of your past. He had been foolish to blame you, foolish to think it was somehow your fault. You acted out of fear, out of terror. How you must have felt in those moments when that beta showed up, when you faced down Shepherd alone, when you returned to find your space invaded and those cameras all over your room. They weren’t there to protect you, they weren’t there to support you. They left you alone and you hid it from them because you didn’t know any better, because you were so afraid. 

He’s a goddamn fucking prick he’s been. 

Tears blur his vision as he tucks his free arm behind you, shifting your position just enough so he can get his hand around the back of your neck. You kick out with your legs, releasing his arm, your head tilting back in a last ditch, instinctual effort to protect yourself. 

His eyes squeeze closed as you let out a yelp, his fingers digging into the back of your neck. It’s hard enough it will leave a bruise, but he has to be sure. It’s the only thing that might save you. It’s his only option, his only chance to keep you alive. 

“There you go.” He says quietly into your ear. “Need you to relax for me.” 

Your body goes limp in his hold, head resting back against his hand as he holds you there. Your muscles twitch as the tension leaves you, eyelids fluttering before they close. His arm stings where your teeth had sunk into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t care. 

“Keep resting.” He says, easing his hand from the back of your neck as he shifts you in his arms. “Gonna get you somewhere safe.” 

You’re like a ragdoll in his arms as he lifts you up, cradling you against his chest. You’re warm, hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Call it in.” He tells Johnny, his eyes still glued to your face. “We need that medevac now.” 

“Price, we got her.” Johnny says into his comm. “We need medevac stat.” 

You look so peaceful despite the blood soaking your body. Partially yours, partially the Shadows you killed in your escape. You look like a gruesome painting, a gorey depiction of an omega pushed too far. Something they’d put on display in a museum, a photo that would win prizes in celebration of such a natural state caught on camera. It would be circulated for decades, something talked about centuries from now. 

A raw view of humanity’s inner beasts. 

He can’t stand it, seeing you like this. They did this to you. They are the reason you’re like this. They made the bad call in the end, they put you through this. You won’t forgive them, not after everything. You went weeks without them, without a word and then this happened. Innocence tainted in the blood of the guilty. The bloodstained omega held in the arms of the blood-tainted alpha. He should be the one covered in their blood. He should be the one carrying the weight of torture and desperation on his shoulders. 

The guardian dog covered in blood in the name of protecting his innocent sheep. 

How he’s failed you. How they all failed you. 

He pushes past the pain, past the grief, past the guilt and the horror of what they did to you, what they put you through. 

They’ve got you back. You’re safe. 

It’s over. 

NEXT ->

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[zablife]

Missing You

Benny Cross x gf reader

Summary: After a wreck puts you in the hospital, Benny takes off. Will he return or leave you with more than just a broken leg?

Warnings: hospital setting, injury, brief mention of motorcycle accident, fear of abandonment, angst with fluffy ending

A/N: My first fic for The Bikeriders, pls be kind! Comments are love so leave me some 💕 No spoilers here!

Divider credit @firefly-graphics

Benny Cross Masterlist

You turned in the narrow hospital bed, head throbbing from the pain and the bright overhead light in your eyes. "Benny," you mumbled, head fuzzy and mouth feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton.

"Isn't there anyone else we could call?" a tired voice asked from far away. "A relative? Parents?"

There was a shuffle and whispering that sounded like a passing cloud over your head. "No one...she doesn't speak to...don't make it worse, please. He'll be back."

You tried to sit up to see what was happening, but you felt a wave a nausea which stopped you suddenly. Screwing your eyes shut to will it away, the gentle rocking only continued, making you whimper.

"Shhh, lie back, honey," a warm voice instructed, pressing you down into the soft pillows. You felt the warmth of a hand encasing yours as reassuring words poured over you like honey. "They put you under to fix that busted leg, but you're gonna be fine now. Just need a little rest, that's all."

You blinked slowly and opened your eyes once more, fixing your gaze on Johnny's wife, Betty. She gave you a small smile and you felt yourself relax at the sight of her kind eyes. Much like Johnny had for Benny, she had become a role model for you, teaching you how to make a life with the Vandals. Now she was more of a mother to you than your flesh and blood.

"Wh-where's Benny?" you asked, a bit more coherently than you'd managed before.

Betty busied herself pouring some water into a cup for you and your heart began to race, wondering if she was stalling. The memories were coming back to you in full force now, Benny carrying you into the hospital after the crash, yelling at the nurses and doctors. Had he abandoned you then because of the trouble or later when he learned of the care you'd require? You felt hot tears welling in your lash line as you realized this might be the end.

As she turned back to you with the cup, Betty's face fell. Sighing gently, she confirmed your worst fears. "He's not coming back tonight, Y/n."

You couldn't stop the sobs that wracked your body, shoulders shaking and chest heaving with the weight of her words. She allowed you a moment of despair, a hand stroking down your back in soothing circles. When that didn't seem to comfort you, she asked, "Don't you remember the nurses asking Benny to leave?"

Stifling a cry, you sniffed, "No, what are you talking about?"

"I thought you knew."

"Benny stayed?"

"Sure he did, paced all night. Got himself so worked up, he punched a hole in the wall over there! They told him he had to show himself the door or the cops would," Betty explained, the rush of words leaving her mouth so quickly you barely comprehended it all.

You inhaled a deep breath, feeling lightheaded from the relief. "He still wants me?" you mumbled to yourself. There had always been a deep fear coursing through you that someday Benny would take off and never come back. You'd been warned many times he was a man who liked his freedom.

"He still what?" Betty asked, looking at you in confusion. "Sweetie it's none of my business, but I think you should try to sleep now."

Nodding in agreement, you sunk beneath the hospital blankets, exhaustion quickly overtaking your tired mind.

When your eyes reopened, sunlight was pouring through the blinds. A lazy smile spread across your face as you realized your head was no longer pounding with the incessant pain from yesterday. Though your leg now ached in its place and an irritating itch inside your cast was nagging you, somehow you had a good feeling about the day ahead. Stretching your arms above your head, you startled at the sound of a familiar, deep voice.

"Hi baby."

Your heart caught in your chest, too afraid to look if it was actually him.

"Ain't you gonna say hello?" Benny asked, his handsome face hovering over you like a blue eyed angel.

"Oh, Benny," you whimpered, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey...don't cry," he urged, sweeping your hair away for a cautious kiss. You strained to meet the soft press of his full lips against yours, leaning into the gentle touch of his fingertips lacing through your hair. He kept his weight from you, careful not to worsen the bruising he knew you'd sustained to your ribs.

As his beard brushed your cheek, the gravel in his voice rumbled into your chest along with the words you'd longed to hear, "I missed my girl."

"I missed you. What the hell happened?"

Benny chuckled, his teeth shining in that mischievous grin he wore when he knew he'd been caught. His gaze turned toward the crumbling plaster he'd left in the wake of his anger, straightening his denim jacket as he confessed, "Mighta made some trouble."

"I heard," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Betty told me, but she didn't say why," you prodded with a raised eyebrow.

Benny pulled up a chair, taking your hand between his large calloused palms. "Listen, I want you to know somethin."

You furrowed your brow uncertain where he was headed.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand as he spoke, his speech slow and tender as you'd never heard him before. A man of few words you weren't prepared for what came next. "I know you don't have kin...kin that claim you anyway." You stared down at his rings, watching them glimmer in the light as he chewed his lip in concentration, choosing his next words carefully. "We been riding together a couple of years now and you gotta know by now that I'll never leave you behind."

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you realized how wrong you'd been, misjudging your boyfriend in a moment of fear. The reputation Benny had as a loner who only looked out for himself simply wasn't true. The love you felt for each other was real, he was telling you so right now. The thought stirred butterflies in your stomach the likes of which you hadn't felt since you met.

Reaching for his face, you cupped his blonde scruff as you proclaimed, "I want to be with you too."

His eyes fell to the floor, thick lashes downcast as he was overcome by a sudden rush of shyness. Perhaps he'd already said too much, revealed a part of himself he kept hidden for fear of exposing weakness. However, you were reveling in it, especially when he raised his head to add another word of praise just for you.

"I was proud of you when we went down. Took it like a champ, you know?"

It was your turn to look away, blush creeping up your neck as you shook your head in vehement denial.

"No, I mean it. The first thing you asked when they got you in here was when you was gonna ride again!" he chuckled at the memory.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"Yeah, the nurses all thought you were crazy. Said so too," he recalled, bitterness rolling off his tongue. He sighed heavily as he admitted, "That's why I punched the wall."

Staring up at the ceiling, you finally connected all the pieces and let out a little huff. It was soon followed by a snort, then a rolling wave of laughter as you were unable to contain your amusement at your boyfriend's classic impulsiveness. All the hurt and pain melted away as you realized it had all been a wayward attempt to defend you.

"M glad you think it's funny I almost got arrested," he protested.

"And I got a broken leg, Benny!" you countered sternly.

"You win," he conceded with a grin.

Looking down at the cast you turned sullen. "Can't ride with you now."

"Says who?" he asked, drawing close to you. His bright eyes danced with spirited challenge, daring you to defy him.

"I just thought..." you stumbled, feeling all willpower leave your body. When Benny asked something of you, the only answer was yes.

"You go where I go. We make trouble together, remember?" he said, sliding an arm over your waist and pulling you into him for another slow, sensual kiss.

"Sure do, don't we?" you agreed, moving in unison with him. Clutching onto his jacket you asked, "We going home now? I'm done missing you."

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[holdmytesseract]

🩷Salut mon amie🩷

I just can't let this perfect opportunity slip... What about a Daryl x f!reader post-outbreak song fic with “So High School“ by Taylor leading your wonderful mind??? 😊

Clandestine Meetings

Daryl Dixon x fem!Greene!Reader

Summary: You sneak out to meet Daryl in the watch tower - the first moment of privacy you share since months.

Warnings: 18+!!! Minors do not interact! veeery suggestive smut/'smut' (not very graphic, but it's there), fluff, we ignore the age, humour?

Set in Season 3!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Thank you for requesting, my friend! I don't know if it fits 'So High School', but that's what my mind came up with. Hope you like it! 🤍

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The sun was about to set when you made your way out of the C-Block. Snuck was probably the more fitting word, though. You snuck your way out of the C-Block. To your luck was everybody else occupied with other things, so you had more or less free rein to get unnoticed to your destination... The watch tower. Once you reached the yard, you adjusted the rifle strapped around your shoulder; a victorious smile spreading on your lips.

You crowed too soon.

"Y/N?" A very familiar voice suddenly cut through the air and caused you to stop dead in your motion. "What are you doing out here? Where are you goin'? It's almost dark..." Maggie... Your sister.

"Damn..." You cursed under your breath; now seeing her approaching you, wearing some of the police gear. A bloody knife was in her hands.

You lifted your head to meet her eyes. "I could ask you the same, y'know," you retorted playfully; hoping that you'd somehow get out of this situation. Maggie frowned for a moment; stepping closer. "Been out with Glenn; fixing the fence and gettin' rid of some walkers." "Ah..." You nodded, "Ya sure do look like it." and giggled; still hoping to get away.

"Where are you goin'? We shouldn't walk 'round here alone. Especially at night. Even though the yard is cleared." "I'm not plannin' to walk around," you immediately said; lifting your hands in surrender. "Don't worry, sis." Your sister crossed her arms over her armoured chest; a stern expression on her face - and you knew immediately that she wasn't up for jokes anymore. She was being serious now. "Spit it out, Y/N - and it better be the truth." You sighed defeated; knowing that you had lost. Well, perhaps you were just really bad at lying and keeping a pokerface. "I wanted to go to the watch tower," you finally admitted; nodding towards the tall building at the foot of the prison. "The watch tower?" Maggie raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Since when are you on watch this late?" "I'm not." You shook your head. "But, uh, Daryl is."

Maggie looked at you surprised. "Daryl?" You nodded; biting your lip. "Uh.Huh. Thought I keep him company for a bit." "Keep him company?" "Mhm."

Your sister gave you a suspicious look, before crossing her arms over her chest. "Is there somethin' I should know about?" "No," you said, but the pink on your cheeks was betraying you. "Y/N..." Maggie pushed; your awkward behaviour rising only more suspicions. "Okay, fine!" You sighed once more. Yeah. you had lost. For real now. Maggie wouldn't let you go without telling her the whole truth. She took her sister role very seriously.

"I, uh, I really like Daryl. Have been since the farm and well, uh, we're kinda together?"

A big smile stretched over Maggie's face. "Honestly? I suspected that you two were a thing." You blinked; shocked and surprised. "W-Wha'? How?" Her smile widened as stepped closer; wrapping an arm around you. "The looks you give each other? Him always making sure you're safe? Especially when we were on the road? I noticed, sis. You two were being not quite subtle..." Your cheeks reddened even more at her words. "Hey, sweetie. No need to be embarrassed 'bout it. I'm happy for you, truly. Daryl is a good man - but if he hurts you, I'll still cut off his balls." You couldn't help but giggle; your nervosity finally melting away. "He won't, Maggie. He's a keeper." "I know. I'm just sayin'..." Your sister said and started to walk away. Halfway, though, she turned back to face you; a smug grin on her lips. "Hey, sis?" "Yeah?" "If you need some, Glenn and I can spare a few condoms," she hollered over; winking and causing you to blush once again. "Maggie!" "What?" She laughed. "Wrap it 'fore you tap it." You rolled your eyes and reached inside your pocket; fishing for something. Once you found the little foil package, you lifted it up for Maggie to see. "I know! I'm prepared!"

Your sister's smirk even widened, "See you in the morning then." and winked at you once more. Before she could walk away, you stopped her. "Maggie?" Again she faced you. "Don't tell daddy yet, okay?" Your sister nodded, "I won't. This is up to you." and truly walked away this time.

Your gaze lingered on her for a moment, before you made your way to the watch tower; silently closing the door behind you and walking up the steps to reach the top door. Cautiously, you stepped inside; finding Daryl gazing out of the window.

"Yer late," his deep, gruff voice urged to your ears as he turned with the tiniest smirk twitching on the corner of his lips. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I, uh, ran into my sister on the way." He shook his head, "'No need ta apologise, darlin'. Hell, 'm happy ya even came." and put his crossbow carefully down; leaning it against the wall beside you rifle.

You raised a playful eyebrow at him. "Why on earth shouldn't I? This is the first time we have some real privacy since the farm." Daryl shrugged his shoulders; chewing on his bottom lip. "Dunno. Coulda lost interest in me or somethin'." "Lose interest in you?" You asked almost in disbelief, "Daryl..." and stepped closer to the archer. You casually leaned against his broad body; hands playing with the buttons of his ruby coloured shirt. "I will never lose interest in you. I love you way too much for that - and the things you make me feel."

A small, smug smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "The things I make ya feel, huh? Tha' good?" You scoffed and playfully slapped his chest. "You know damn well it is."

The archer held your intense gaze for another moment, before he cupped your cheeks and without further ado connected your lips with his; dragging you into a fierce, passionate kiss. A kiss which was enough to light up the fire between you.

With his lips still hungrily moving against yours, Daryl's big hands went to grab your waist and swiftly turn you around in order to urge you forward. When the back of your thighs collided with the edge of a little desk, you knew what Daryl had in mind. Before you were even able to finish your thought, one of Daryl's strong arms engulfed your waist and effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft squeak escaped your lips at his sudden movement, but it quickly faded into a moan as the archer started to latch on your neck; his arm still firmly wrapped around you.

"D..." You gasped and tried to somehow signal him that you were in desperate need of more; arms clinging to his broad upper body. But the man was so lost in you and your sweet scent, that he didn't notice. So, you had to take the steering wheel.

Wrapping your legs around his thighs, you urged him closer; hips colliding with yours. A deep, guttural grunt left Daryl's lips. He pulled back to look at you; pupils blown wide - swallowed by love and desire. Now he got the hint.

Wetting his lips, he made quick work to open your tech-wear pants. "Get rid of 'em, will ya?" He grunted with a nod; now undoing his own rugged jeans. You giggled at his sudden impatience; shedding your pants and underwear, before hopping back onto the desk.

Daryl stepped between your open legs; calloused fingers dancing over your bare thighs, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

In a swift motion, he hooked his palms underneath the back of your knees and pulled you forwards; lips crashing against yours once again. Before your hazy brain was able to catch up, were Daryl's hips moving against yours. All you could do was moan into his kiss and hold onto the archer for dear life.

"D-Daryl..." You breathed; fingers clawing into his angel-winged vest. You could feel him shaking his head against your shoulder. "I-I know, s-sunshine," he grunted; biceps bulging at how tightly he grasped the edge of the wooden desk. You moaned; burying one hand in his hair, which had grown quite a lot in the past months.

Moments later, you fell into the sweet abyss of pleasure together.

The archer was panting hard against your neck; palms now resting on your thighs. "I love ya, too." You giggled and turned your head to press a lingering kiss against his scruff cheek.

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @celtic-crossbow @erebus-et-eigengrau @sweetz1919 @fuseburner @in-this-minute @stitchintimefan @suniloli @mandywholock1980 @mischief-dream @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @marvelcasey05

[oneforthemunny]

baby, you're a haunted house |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: eddie is horrified to find out you don't decorate for halloween, and is determined to fix that. based off this ask request sent in by @harmonib for the spooky stories series :) thank you!!

contains: mentions of shitty parents/ shitty childhood. nothing extremely graphic but touched upon. really the rest is sweet sweet fluff. alludes to smut bc it's them, but nothing graphic. for timeline purposes, set after the engagement.

"That's it?"

Eddie's brow lifted so high that the silver hoop piercing disappeared under his curly bangs.

"Yep." You gave a short nod, hands resting on your hips, looking down at the large plastic bowl, covered in an array of Peanuts characters all in various costumes.

"That's- Baby, are you serious?" Eddie's eyes widened, lips pulling in a look of shock, maybe horror.

You frowned, looking down at the bowl resting on top of the counter. You thought it was cute, you thought Eddie would find it adorable too.

"Yeah, I mean, I know it looks small but I don't get a lot of trick-or-treaters, honestly-"

"-Probably because they think no one's here." Eddie scoffed before he could help it, grimacing at the frown you gave him. "Sorry, but... Sweetheart, this is it? This is all you have? All your Halloween decorations?"

You wrapped your arms around yourself, scowl only deepening on your features making Eddie cringe. "So what? It's a candy bowl. That's all kids care about anyways." You muttered, eyes darting from his gaze back to the bowl.

"But what about you?" Eddie twirled the bowl around, examining the wrap around design on the lip. "You don't like to decorate for yourself?"

"No, not really." Your chin ducked down, toying with the edge of the cream fur trimmed sweater you'd bought yesterday. You had been so excited to go shopping for fall, at the first dip in temperatures. Eddie had promised you he'd take you somewhere with real seasons, back home to Indiana where the leaves actually changed.

"What?" Eddie gawked, lips curling in a soft smile, hoping it would ease you out of your own defenses. He'd grown used to coaxing you out of yourself when you got like this, guarded and snippy when you felt challenged in any way.

"That's shocking. I thought you'd be like, the biggest decorating fan. give Martha Stewart a run for her money." Your lips twitched in a smile you tried to hide, eyes finally meeting his.

"I mean, I would like to. I just... I don't know. I've never really decorated before." You admitted, twirling the puffs of fur at the end of the zipper. "My parents didn't ever really decorate so I guess I never got in the habit."

Eddie's eyes widened, blinking in shock. "Ever? They never decorated ever? Not even for Christmas or-or Valentine's Day or something?"

Your face twisted, tight the way it always did when you were talking about something painfully uncomfortable- when you talked about your childhood. "No. Well, we did a few times when I was younger for Christmas and my Dad's parents were still alive. They'd come over and spend Christmas, but my Mom would just hire one of those staging companies to come a few days before Christmas and bring decorations and make it look nice."

"You didn't even have a tree?" Eddie gaped. "Even I had a Christmas tree."

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing in annoyance. "Yeah, congrats, Ed. I had shittier parents than you, I guess." Your tone clipped, dripping in surly sarcasm.

Eddie sucked in a breath, biting his tongue to keep any sharp retorts back. It was still an adjustment, even now that you were engaged, to keep his retorts soft when they needed to be- to be soft with you.

"I didn't-" Eddie's breath huffed, a strangling sigh that kept in the rest of his words. "Go put your shoes on."

"Why?" Nose scrunched in confusion, still lingering with hints of an attitude Eddie was hoping wasn't going to be a problem.

"Because," He grinned, dimples creasing softly into his cheeks. "We're gonna go shopping."

Your eyes lit up, perking at your favorite activity- or so Eddie said since you were always shopping for something. "Shopping?" It was your turn to grin. "For what?"

"Decorations." Eddie nodded firmly, patting his pockets for his wallet, chains jingling on his jeans. "We need some for our house."

"Don't you have some we could use?" Your voice was softer than before, shoulders a little deflated.

"Yeah, but those aren't ours, those are mine." Eddie shook his head. "We need some for both of us. That we both like. So when we're old as shit and putting 'em out, we still like them." He grinned, pinching your cheek gently, heart skipping at the giggle you gave him.

"C'mon, it'll be fun, babe, I promise. You'll like it. Just like when we decorated this house, but better because this isn't boring stuff. It's actually fun." Eddie grinned, motioning towards the painting behind him- a real Van Gogh given to you as a wedding gift, bought off your registry, of the infamous 'Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette'.

"We'll go to that one store you like. The Pierce-"

"-Pier One-"

"-Right. That one. We'll start there, and we can just look everywhere. As long as you want." Eddie's hand slid down the soft cashmere of your sweater, giving your forearms a gentle squeeze that had your skin tingling with excitement.

"As long as I want, hm?" You hummed, brow quipping playfully. "That's a risk, Munson. You're sure you're committing to that?"

"Always committing to you, Munson." Eddie's lips curled. "You know that. As long as you want, wherever you want. We'll hop on a flight to New York if you want to. They might have better stuff, actually. More fall than the places here."

"Hm, that's pretty tempting." Your lips twisted in thought. "I do love New York."

"I know you do." Eddie grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar sparkle of wild that had your knees shaking. "Fuck it, let's go to New York. Go pack."

"Eddie," You gawked lightly, a breathy giggle slipping out with his name. "I- We can't go to New York."

"Why?" Eddie frowned. "I don't have anything to do. Do you?"

"No, but-but I haven't told Jacques. The jet won't be ready-"

"-LAX is still a thing, baby." Eddie teased lightly. "We'll just take the plane down there. Call Jacques and get the jet set up for us to take back. That's when we'll need it, anyways, for all the Halloween stuff we're gonna buy." Eddie's grin only widened, eyes getting more and more wild with the excitement of the trip.

"Go pack. I'll call Nelson, tell him to get us a hotel room at The Plaza- You want The Plaza, right?" Eddie pointed at you, walking towards the phone on the wall in the newly renovated kitchen.

You hesitated, tummy flipping with excitement and rushes of adoration, nodding gently. "I can get Jacques to call instead. He knows the manager there."

"Yeah, you know what, that's probably a good idea." Eddie placed the phone back on the hook. "Last time we stayed there, we kinda fucked the place up. Don't know if they'll let us back. Good call, baby. You call Jacques, and I'll start packing."

Eddie walked past you, ringed hand skittering across your waist, stopping to pull you into him, lips smashed to your in a sweetly steamy kiss.

He pulled back with a wet smack of his lips, grinning wide and bright back at you. "This is gonna be so fun. I can't fuckin' wait."

You giggled in response, brain fuzzy and gooey with a warmth you'd never felt before, not with anyone other than Eddie. Love blinded, completely and utterly by him. Willing to follow him anywhere, and do anything with him, which is why you dialed the phone, feeling like you could float on air as you leaned against the counter, chatting with your family's personal assistant about the spontaneous plans. Jacques' snarly tone of disapproval when you mentioned Eddie couldn't even soil your mood, too stricken with excited affection to be anything other than giddy.

"Oh, what about this one?" Eddie lifted the metal Jack-O-Lantern, spinning it by the painted stem towards you. "This looks like you."

Nearly two hours after landing, you and Eddie hadn't wasted any time. Throwing your bags in the presidential suite before stepping into the chauffeured car, hauling to 5th Avenue.

"I do like that." Your lips curled, running a hand over the smooth surface. "That's really cute. Do they have two?"

"Yeah, they've got a bunch. Look this one has a different face." Eddie beamed with pride, grabbing the other pumpkin, a little taller than the others, making a more shocked face rather than smiling like the other. "Do you want the exact same one?"

"No, I like the different ones. I think that would be pretty by the mantle. On the ledge?" You looked at him, and though you didn't say it, he knew you were looking for approval. Still a little apprehensive at the newness of decorating, unsure that you were doing it right, and just needing that extra push of confidence that Eddie always gave you.

"That would look amazing, yeah." Eddie grinned, curls bobbing as he nodded. He handed the two back to the eager sales person behind him, nodding with a muttered thanks as she took it to the front.

"What about some ghosts?" Eddie reached into the shelf, turning a stuffed ghost holding a stack of pumpkins around to show you. "That looks pretty cool."

"Can you... Do you think it'll match the other?" You bit your lip, fingers twirling the small pumpkin coasters against your palm nervously.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's all Halloween." Eddie grinned softly, a hand on your hip, giving you a sweet, reassuring squeeze. "That's the great part about it, it's all on theme because it's all Halloween. Can't mess it up."

You relaxed under his touch, giving a quick nod. "I do like that." Your head tilted lightly, reaching out to feel the felt ghost. "It's cute."

Eddie nodded with a wide smile, picking it up and curling it against the leather of his jacket. "What about witches hats? Feel like you'd really like the witchy stuff."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You frowned playfully up at him, swallowing back a smile.

His hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing the skin that peeked out gently. "I dunno, you seem like a witchy woman, I guess." Eddie grinned playfully, giving a small shrug at your exaggerated gasp. "Seems like you'd really like that kinda stuff."

"Are you calling me a witch?" You pressed your lips together, slipping down the aisles towards the brooms and pointed hats.

"Nah, you're definitely more of a vampire vibe. Like Camille from Undying Love." Eddie snorted lightly.

"Why? Because I suck the life out of you?" You rolled your eyes, manicured nails raking over a pointed hat covered in stitched beads that made a sparkling spiderweb.

"Well, I mean, you're pretty good at sucking. Give amazing head, baby." Eddie snickered, his own cackles growing watching you squirm, eyes darting around to make sure no one heard.

"You're gross." You rolled your eyes, lips curling in a smug grin you couldn't fight back.

"Yeah, I think you like it." Eddie's hand dipped lower, squeezing your left ass cheek hard enough to have you squealing lightly, ducking down and nipping at the tip of your ear.

"Put it on." He nodded towards the hat your hand was still lingering on. "Wanna see you in it."

You scoffed lightly, picking up the witches hat. "Thought I was more of a vampire type."

"Yeah, I think you are, but I can't know for certain." Eddie shrugged, stepping back. "Lemme see you in it, then I'll make up my mind."

You snorted lightly, situating the witches hat on your head, spinning it so the long sheer fabric was in the back. You threw your hands out gently, pivoting from side to side sillily so Eddie could see, exaggeratedly modeling for him.

The loud wolf whistle he let out took you by surprise, had you jumping and snatching the hat off with a glare. "Ed-"

"-No, baby, that's definitely a keeper." Eddie laughed, uncaring about the others who turned towards the two of you. "I was wrong, you're definitely more of a witch. That looks so good on you."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "You're relentless."

"And you're hot." Eddie grinned, tossing you a wink that had you bristling with excitement, turning and hoping he didn't see how flustered it made you.

"We'll be taking this, and definitely this too." Eddie turned to the sales associate, passing off the finds.

"Why are you getting the hat?" You lifted a brow, hand running down the bark of a 'witch broom' that hung on the rack. "Are you going to wear it?"

"Shit, I will if you want me to." Eddie flirted, smoothly sliding his hand back over your waist. "Was thinking you could wear it later tonight. Stop at Vivienne Westwood and pick you out something black and sexy. Really put you into costume."

"Is that right?" Your tongue ran over the inside of your cheek, trying to still yourself, hide your fluster.

"Yeah, c'mon, you know how I love when you dress up for me." Eddie's breath was hot on the shell of your ear, leaving you shuddering.

"Thought we were here for Halloween decorations?" Your voice was tight, far squeakier than what you were hoping.

"We're here for that too, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun." He teased, fingers tickling up your waist. "Dressing up in a costume is apart of Halloween, anyways."

You hummed, grabbing at the ceramic bottles of potions, each etched with a different deadly name. "I like those, get those." Eddie nodded, grabbing one of each.

"I like the broom too." You tilted your head over to the one hanging. "And the cauldron. It says it turns on and makes sound."

"See?" Eddie smiled, chin hooking over your shoulder. "Knew you'd like the witchy stuff."

You giggled, turning so your noses were nearly touching. It was nice to be open and affectionate, not have to worry about sneaking around any more or saving the love for behind closed doors.

"It's more fun than the other stuff. Don't you think?" Your eyes batted sweetly at him. Eddie didn't know how to tell you that he'd agree with anything you said in that moment. Instead, he leaned forward, lips pressing against yours, a short but sweet kiss that had you both reeling.

"I love you." Eddie muttered, eyes rounded with affection, nearly drunk off his affection.

"I love you." You giggled, pressing your cheek to his. "This is a lot of fun. I can... I can see why you like it so much."

"Yeah, told you. This isn't even the best part. The best part is when you get to put it all up, ya know? Putting stuff where you want and makin' it all spooky and weird and Halloweeny." Eddie gushed with excitement.

"Yeah." Your tone dropped, looking down at the cauldron in your hand. "Guess I really missed out, huh?"

Eddie frowned, pulling back to look at you, his hand sliding over your jaw, cupping your cheek softly, pulling your gaze up to his. "Hey, c'mon, it's alright." He muttered, voice low in case others could hear.

He leaned forward, tip of his nose to yours, heart aching at the way your lip jutted lightly in a sad pout. "You're never gonna miss out again, alright? I promise you. I'll make sure you never miss out, and when we have our own kids, they won't miss out. Promise."

You moved into his hold, lips beginning to curl in a soft smile. "Thank you." Your voice barely a whisper, taking a slow, steadying breath in.

"I mean it." Eddie nodded fiercely. "You're locked in for life with me, baby, and I swear we'll decorate every single fuckin' holiday until we're a hundred years old."

You held his gaze, locking eyes in such a passionately fierce yet soft way, like you two were the only ones in the store- on the planet, maybe. It felt like that, it always did when you were with Eddie.

"Um," The timid voice of the sales associate brought you both back to reality. "I-I'm sorry, are you still finding everything ok?" She hesitated.

You pulled away, chin ducking with light embarrassment, but Eddie didn't seem bothered. "Yeah, we're gonna take these too." He nodded, passing her the ceramic figures and broom. "Oh, and this." He took the cauldron from you, passing it to her with a muttering of thanks.

"Let's keep looking. I think they said the outside stuff was over here." Eddie's hand found your back, pointing towards the next aisle.

"Outside? I thought you said you had your own outside stuff." You looked at him.

"I do, but I don't think it's really... you." Eddie looked at you with a small smile. "It's kinda scary shit. Not sure that's what you want."

"Do kids like it?"

"I don't know, actually. Never really had trick-or-treaters. I always have a party on Halloween, you remember." Eddie nodded lightly. You did remember, the infamous Halloween rager he had just a year ago. How you'd shown up in a skimpy little costume, resting on the arm of his sworn rival just to piss Eddie off. It had worked, of course, much to your discomfort. Your tummy flipped with heat, hairs raising on your spine at the memory.

"That's right. Are you doing that again this year?" You asked, passing by the plastic graveyard signs.

"I can, if you want." Eddie shrugged. "Up to you."

"Maybe have it start after trick-or-treating is done." Your eyes lingered over the costumes in the corner, a tiny bat onesie that had your heart swelling. "I want to pass out candy this year."

"Done." Eddie nodded. "Usually doesn't start until ten or eleven anyways. Gives us time to change. Shit, that reminds me, we gotta figure out a costume."

"I thought I already had a costume." You nodded towards the front where the witches hat was waiting behind the counter with the rest of your things. "Isn't that why we're going to Vivienne Westwood after this?"

"Nah, that's just for me, baby." Eddie grinned, pulling you close to him, pressing a kiss to your head. "That's your costume for me. We need something for the party. Somethin' cool and weird. Gotta be a good one, ya know? Our first Halloween together, together."

You giggled, shaking your head lightly. "I'm sure you'll come up with something good. You always do."

"Needs to be perfect." Eddie nodded, picking up a plastic headstone with Frankenstein's Bride etched on the front. "For my bride." He droned dramatically, leaving you laughing.

"Oh shit, wait, that's actually a good idea." Eddie's eyes lit up. "Bride of Frankenstein and Frankenstein- oh shit!" Eddie exclaimed, a little too loudly, other patrons glaring at him with cutting eyes.

"I gotta call Ricardo, see if his costume guy can make somethin' happen. Oh man, this is gonna be so good, babe. Gonna be the best fuckin' Halloween ever." Eddie babbled, excited and bubbly with ideas.

Your heart swelled, squeezing his hand in yours as you pulled him down the aisles, letting him ramble about his ideas, decorations, Halloween traditions- everything. You listened, just as excited as he was. You finally would get to have traditions of your own, with a man you loved, in your own home that you decorated with items you both picked out. No longer would the holidays feel meaningless and boring. You finally had what you always wanted, finally found with Eddie.

[yourlocaljonghoe]

A Smile From Me To You. || Choi San.

Summary: sometimes, even a man like choi san gets jealous and insecure over the most trivial things. and sometimes, all it takes are your words to help him through it.

Pairing: choi san x fem. reader

Genre: fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings: slightly suggestive at the end

A/N: happy (belated) birthday to one of the kindest people ever aka my yessabunnyboo aka @skteezcursed <33 i genuinely love you so much, the way you always listen to my ramblings and whining without ever complaining and the way you're so kind and sweet to everyone just shows what an amazing person you are and im so glad to have you as a friend. this fic here is super short and nothing special unfortunately, but i promise you a better one next year, just you wait!! as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

“San,” you called out softly, leaning slightly toward him, “are you okay?”

Beside you, your lover was staring intensely at the TV, his lips pressed into a thin line. You’d noticed it about fifteen minutes ago, the way he suddenly went quiet, his comments getting less and less until he remained silent completely. At first, you thought he was just tired after a long day at work, but then you caught the way his eyes narrowed every time the lead actor came on screen.

It had started as a casual movie night, the two of you curled up on the couch under a warm blanket, enjoying each other's company like almost everyday. You had picked a romantic kdrama you'd been eyeing for awhile, something light and easy to watch, and San had agreed, though you knew it wasn’t exactly his favourite genre. He didn’t mind, though; he loved spending time with you no matter what you were watching. But now, after just two episodes, he was practically glaring at the TV, his arms crossed over his chest in silent protest.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the screen where the actor was delivering a heartwarming monologue in front of the female lead. It was only when you nudged him gently with your elbow that he finally tore his eyes away, setting his eyes on you instead.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely curious now.

San shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, though his tone suggested that there was, indeed, something.

You raised an eyebrow. “San, come on. You really suck at lying, and you know it. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “...You're smiling too much at him.

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Huh?”

“That actor,” he replied, getting more and more frustrated. “You’re smiling at him like way too much!”

It took you a full moment to process what he was saying, but when you finally did, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. “Sannie, my baby, he’s an actor. On TV. He… he doesn’t even know I exist.”

San’s pout deepened, and he glanced back at the screen as if to verify if the actor was still on screen. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t, instead the female lead was seen with the other male lead you deemed as ‘annoying’. “But you were smiling,” he insisted, sounding almost hurt. “I saw it.”

Your gaze softened. This wasn’t just about that damn actor - it was about San’s insecurities, which he rarely showed. For all his confidence and charm, there were moments when he needed reassurance, when he worried that maybe he wasn’t enough, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Instead, it was you who would never be good enough for him. Choi San was the closest thing to perfection humanity could ever achieve; he was kind, funny, gentle, pretty, sexy and so, so much more

“San,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand in yours, “It seems I haven't shown you how much you make me smile, hm? Have I made you feel neglected recently?”

“No, I… Well, what if you like him more than me? He’s good-looking, and-”

You cut him off, shaking your head firmly. “Stop right there. San, no one on a stupid screen or anywhere else could ever replace you. I mean, I was smiling at him, but no one will genuinely ever make me smile or laugh like you do.

San finally met your gaze, his expression softening just a bit, though he still seemed a little unconvinced. “But what if one day you smile for everyone else, even a stupid actor like him, except… me?”

In a way, this whole situation was weirdly endearing, really. No man would ever take it as seriously as him. You could truly see how much he wanted to be the one and only who made you smile, and it made your heart swell. San was always so passionate, so intense in his emotions, and that was one of the things you loved most about him. 

You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. “San, I promise you, no one else can make me feel the way you do. You’re the one I love, the one I want to spend my time with. I’m sorry if I seemed a bit too distant lately.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes now focused on the way your fingers traced small circles on his side. After a few moments, he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. “I just… I sometimes get too scared you're not enjoying our time together as much as I do. What if one day you decide that I'm just… too boring?”

You pulled back slightly to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to lose me, San. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I’m the one who's enjoying your company more than anything. Hell, I want to be with you 24/7 and it scares the shit out of me, because I've never felt this way before.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a breath he’d been holding, his posture relaxing a bit. “God, this was so lame,” he admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I'm sorry for getting jealous over something so stupid.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “It’s not that stupid. It’s actually kind of… cute?”

San chuckled, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed how flustered he really was. “Cute, huh?”

“Very,” you confirmed, moving closer until your lips were just a breath away from his. “And since you’re just so cute, I think you deserve some extra attention.”

Before he could respond, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was soft yet passionate. San responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away as you continued to pour all your affection into that single moment.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were slightly out of breath, but the smile on San’s face was worth everything. 

“Still jealous?” you teased, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

San shook his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Hmm.. maybe a little? I definitely wouldn’t mind a few more kisses though, just to be sure of course.”

You laughed softly, leaning in to give him exactly what he wanted. “I can also give you way more than just a kiss, just to really reassure you, hm? Would you like that?”

His dick immediately twitched at your words. “Of fucking course I'd like that.”

[mybworlds]

Everything's gonna be okay

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Joel just had an argue with Ellie, when he comes back home you find a way to help him relax.

Warnings: established relationship, lot of fluff, use of petnames, use of you, videogame references.

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

The sun was setting when Joel returned to your house. You were waiting for him sitting on the sofa. Joel came back with heavy foot and laid on a chair on the porch. You were reading one of the few novels Joel found during his last patrol not to far from Jackson with Tommy and other few men. You saw the light on the porch and closed the book joining him.

When you greeted him and looked at his face you immediately understood that something unpleasant had just happened. Indeed, his somber expression meant a thing only, he had had an argue with Ellie. No one had the power to hurt him like Ellie, that little girl was so hard sometimes.

He sat down at his wooden chair, elbows resting on his legs "Joel..." you said kneeling before him to look him in his eyes, his eyes were so sad and full of tears, you took his face in your hands, "She's a grown-up kid, now, Joel. Give her some time."

You knew what Joel did in that hospital, you knew he saved her because he learned to love that kid and he didn't want to loose another person who means to him. You knew all the horrible things he did for her, but you knew what Ellie did to Joel and the way she changed him.

"Please, come in, my love." you said placing your hands on his big warm hands.

"Okay, babe." he whispered getting up and following you inside.

You closed the door behind you. The two of you sitted on the couch, Joel was lying placing his head on your thighs and you caressed his dark curls. This was a your habit since a while, since he had a hard time with Ellie or after a long patrol or after his work day as a carpenter. You knew how to help him.

You slowly caressed his soft hair with a very slow motion that let him closed his brown eyes, then you let your hand run along his forehead, his angular nose, his patchy beard and then you place a your fingertip on his plushy lips that he kissed. Then you kissed him back, "I love you, my love" you said.

You knew Joel wasn't the kind of guy who likes to say these things, but you needed to tell him because you wanted to let him feel all the love he could receive from you.

He mumbled an I love you back against your lips while you brought your lips closer to his, you loved to kiss Joel because every time he kissed you he put a hand through your hair causing you shivers and because you knew that deep down he needed love.

" 's that coffee?" he asked sniffing the air with a huge smile on his face, you nodded with a shy smile "You always know how to help me or make me feel better even though..." he stared at the ceiling losing his sweet smile "I know I messed things up with Ellie, she's still mad at me."

"I know... but I'm sure, she'll understand, my love."

He looked in your eyes "You sure?"

You nodded, "Give her a few weeks or maybe a few patrols and the two of you will be buddies like before," you said in an attempt to cheer him up.

"I hope so." he said.

"You want a cup of coffee?" he nodded then you got off the couch and when you were in the kitchen you shook your head. Joel cared so much for that little girl, you had no idea if Ellie could really forgive him, but as Joel you too hoped time could fix their relationship.

You came back handing him his cup, "Thank you," you kissed him and he kissed you back, it was a quick kiss, but later you’d give him more kisses in your bed.

He sipped a few times his coffee, then he got off the couch saying "I’m gonna play a lil..." you saw him got his guitar and go out onto the porch, you looked at him with a sad smile. A few moments later, you heard him sing that sad song and you felt your heart breaks.

Despite your love, you were well aware that there were some wounds in his soul that you couldn't completely heal. Initially, Joel rarely spoke, barely saying a few words, then over time, you learned to know him, understand him and accept hin for who he was and you loved every single aspect of him, even his flaws. You remembered about your different movie nights with Joel and Ellie, it was something the three of you used to do almost every night and every night it was so funny. Ellie used to sit cross-legged and after a few minutes she started to laugh or to comment what you watched using a nasty language that made you smile and often meet your eyes with him. He loved so much that girl.

You heard footsteps, but you intentionally didn't come out. By now you recognized those steps and then to confirm your doubts, you heard her voice.

It was Ellie.

The two of them had lots to talk about so you gave them some privacy and went upstairs, took a quick shower and then climbed into bed.

You had just dozed off when he entered the room, you heard him take off his boots and take off his clothes, then quickly wash himself and finally join you.

He hugged you tightly to him with one arm around your waist and placed his head on your shoulder, "My love" you said, turning partially towards him, he stuck his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent. With one hand he moved the strap of your pajamas, his beard teasing your soft skin as he kissed your shoulder causing you to giggle “I love you.” he whispered in your ear, you searched for his mouth and found it immediately.

You loved him, and still love him, so much.

"Did something happen?" you asked him after exchanging kisses, cuddles, caresses, looks full of love and lust, while you stood with your head resting between his shoulder and his chest "You in a good mood."

Joel tenderly scratched the skin at the base of your scalp, "You were right, maybe things with Ellie can really work out." you looked at his face, even though it was semi-dark, you could see his eyes shining with joy and you couldn't help but smile at him and feel happy for him "Darlin', now I have everything. A home, you by my side, my brother's here close to me and things with Ellie will slowly be able to work out."

"You're so beautiful when you smile," you told him, caressing his face marked by age, "I love you,"

"I love you too, baby girl," he said, holding you in his strong arms, cradling you all night long.

"Will you stay with me tomorrow morning? Maybe you could help me prepare something to take to the inn." you suggest giving him a kiss on his bare chest.

"I'd like to, but tomorrow I have another patrol with Tommy." he sighed "A lot of snow is forecast, but I will be back in the afternoon and I promise I will eat your excellent vegetable stew."

You smiled at him shaking your head "You hate vegetables,"

"Yeah, but I would make an exception for you, my love." he said kissing you while you started caressing him again.

A/N This is a kind of missing moment between that famous ball evening and the day that you all unfortunately know, if you know, you know. There are references to Ellie and Joel relationship in the videogame, hope you like it.

[jobean12-blog]

Helping Hands

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 704

Summary: Joel's working on fixing something that you'll love but as soon as you come to see what it is he gets distracted...in the best way.

Author's Note: This is just 700 words of pure indulgence because these small moments are everything for me and if I had Joel I wouldn't want his hands anywhere but on me all the time and I love when two people just can't get enough of each other and just the smallest touch is everything. Anyway hehe thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluffy fluff

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“What are you working on?”

Joel’s head whips up at the sound of your voice and he blinks, clearly pulled from concentration.

“What’s that darlin’?” he asks, his attention now completely focused on you.

His gaze wanders slowly down your body and he leans back in the chair, smoothing his large hands over his spread thighs.

With a gentle smile you walk to the table and lean your hip against the edge.

“I was wondering what you were up to.”

“Oh,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I found this old record player and I was going to try to get it to work again but it’s a mess.”  

Your face brightens at the thought of hearing music.

“I know,” he says with understanding. “I’ll do my best.”

You lean in and kiss his scruffy cheek and with your lips still pressed to his skin he turns his head and finds your mouth, whispering softly, “wanna help?”

“Me?” you ask as you pull away slightly. “Are you sure? I have no idea how to use tools or anything.”

Laugh lines appear around his eyes and then he pats his big, thick thigh.

“Get over here.”

You drag your teeth over your bottom lip and move around him to climb onto his thigh. You can feel the rough material of his jeans on your skin and every flex of his muscle.

With a shaky inhale you scoot back and get comfortable.

He wraps his left arm around your waist and secures you against his chest.

“Ok hold this,” he instructs before pointing to the needle on the record player.

He then grabs the screw driver and begins unscrewing something with his right hand. When it pops off he sets it down and studies the machine.

“Hmm…” he muses. “We might need parts…good thing I have this old thing.”

He leans forward to grab the old radio on the table. The warmth and weight of his body is so welcoming that you let out a contented sigh and snuggle closer.

“Where did you get that?” you ask, turning your head to find him only a breath away, his dark brown eyes trained on your mouth.

The arm wrapped around your belly flexes and his large hand splays along your skin.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” you murmur. “I want this thing fixed.”

“Thought that’s what we were doin’ angel,” he smirks.

“If you keep this up it’ll never get fixed.”

“Keep what up?” he asks with feigned innocence even as his hand slowly slides along the curve of your body.

You melt against him as warmth spreads across your skin.

“Joel,” you breathe out.

“It’ll get fixed darlin’…but it’s hard to concentrate now.”

“Well that’s your fault,” you whisper. “You asked for help.”

His calloused fingertips ghost over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then find your neck, trailing along the delicate skin until he’s pressing them under your chin and tilting your face closer.

“Joel,” you hum with one last weak attempted warning as your eyelids flutter closed.

“Hm?” he grunts as he brushes his lips to yours.

“Thought you wanted help.”

He pulls back and traces his thumb over your lips.

“This is helping.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck and wraps around it before he tugs you down to his mouth.

Your own hand smooths up and over his chest and your fingers curl into his hair, giving it a sharp tug.

“Angel,” he growls.

He stands in one swift motion and takes you with him, gently letting you slide down his body until your feet hit the ground, his mouth still on yours.

With sure steps he walks you backward toward the wall and pins you there with his large frame.

You let out a moan of his name and reach your fingers under his shirt to feel his skin.

He rests his hands on either side of your face, sweeping his thumbs softly over your closed eyes.

“I promise,” he starts on a murmur before kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it fixed.”

His lips are just a breath away, his nose lightly brushing yours…” just need you first darlin.’ Please.”

@lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814

[vyxated]

[Reshade add-on] Clean UI for DX11

After so so sooooo many crashes later, I finally managed to create a working setting for this add-on for DX11 games by using an older REST version 🫠

You can read the whole post on Patreon here, or below the cut for those who can't access the site.

As using REST 1.2.0 and above cause crashes whenever I create a setting or attempt to use it for a brief amount of time, I decided to use a much older version of REST (1.1.0), which turns out to be more stable to configure and use. While this means being able to use the add-on for the DX11 game, it has its own set of problems, which may/may not be a dealbreaker for some.

I decided to make a new post since the original one is quite lengthy and I want to keep DX9 and DX11 versions separate due to the different information each version has.

➡️ For the DX9 version, find it here. And here for the Patreon post.

In short, with the help of REST (an add-on for reshade/gshade), you can block/prevent shaders from affecting the UI.

// Things to know if using this version ⚠️

Some shaders will not work properly and will cause some gamma issues. If your preset look different than how it normally is (a lot darker/brighter), enable/disable your active shaders and see which one is causing it. It's easily fixed by using an alternative shader that achieve a similar look.

Shaders affected (ones I've known so far): SMAA & MartysMods_SMAA (FMAA is not affected, use this instead), FilmicAnamorphSharpen, ArcaneBloom & NeoBloom, Glamarye_Fast_Effects, MagicHDR, CRT_Lotte.

You will not be able to change your window resolution, either via graphic settings or by using SRWE. This will cause your game to stop and eventually having to force stop it with the task manager. It is recommended that you have your game in Windowed Fullscreen to avoid issues and have the add-on disabled if you want to change the resolution in-game.

// Required Files

REST add-on v 1.1.0 (testing)

REST config for v 1.1.0 (simfileshare only)

// Installation

Have ReShade with full add-on support installed for this to work.

Download the REST_ x64_1.1.0 add-on from the github linked in the requirements section as well as the config.

Extract the ReshadeEffectShaderToggler.addon file into the game's \Bin folder where your TS4_64.exe is (where you had also installed ReShade).

If you use GShade: place the .addon file in the gshade-addons folder.

Still in the \Bin folder, drop the x.x_ReshadeEffectShaderToggler_DX11.ini file you downloaded.

If you use GShade: place the .ini file in the gshade-addons folder along with the .addon file. If my config doesn't show up in the add-on menu, move it back to the \Bin folder.

Rename the file and remove the prefix and suffix. Both .addon and .ini file should share the same name for the add-on to recognize my settings = [ ReshadeEffectShaderToggler.ini ]

Open up your game. If you see the same menu as below then you’ve successfully installed the add-on & settings! Restart if needed.

I've set the shortcuts for Clear UI to match with my Effect toggle key, which is Ctrl + F2. If yours are set differently, match the shortcut of this toggle group with your effect toggle key:

Reason being, having the toggle group active will prevent you from enabling/disabling your preset. Changing the shortcut will allow you to disable & enable your preset and toggle group at the same time.

To avoid the add-on from not working, make sure to do the following:

Enable post processing effects

Disable laptop mode & edge smoothing

Set 3d scene resolution to high

As long as all of the above are met, you should not encounter any problems. This has been tested to work on all graphics settings from low to ultra. External modifications (like Simp4Settings) may/may not have an effect, but from the testing I've done it has shown no problems so far.

[reiderwriter]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 

You accepted understanding from him, though. 

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.” 

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 

“What?” 

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 

“I live down the hall.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 

“I have three PhD's-” 

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

[fandomtherapy44]

Five Hargreeves X reader Coffee and Sarcasm One shot!

Summary: Y/n works at Griddy's Coffee House to make money for school. It's not the best but it's not the worst. But everything gets more interesting when a certain customercomes in her life changes in best way.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

WC: 1.8k

divider from

Firefly Graphics

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cafekitsune

AN/ Hey Ya'll so... I hated the ending of TUA if you liked I'm happy you did but to me, it was the worst way to end such an amazing beloved show. I know it works logically with how the show is set up but it's just so dessperseing to think they never existed. And there was a lot more that was wrong with this season. But one of the biggest to me is LILA AND FIVE like WTF. I hate the excuse of oh Five needs a love interest, like no he does not his love story was always getting back to his family and saving them, and for Lila oh how they destroyed two great characters in the last two episodes how she was just was willingly cheat on Digeo and not to mention their kids!? So this is my take on Five and Having a Love Interest. I hope you enjoy it.

My life wasn’t perfect but good, I didn’t have adventures every day, and I could barely afford to go out of state to see my family every year. Like I said not perfect but good. I worked in a little coffee/doughnut shop named Griddy’s my boss was so sweet that she let me do my schooling on the side and would let me take the extra tips from the pool knowing that I didn’t have all the money when going to school.

“Ugh I can’t do it that guy is a total asshole, Y/n can you take him.” My coworker Becky asked me with pleading eyes. I looked up from my textbook. “He’s really that bad?” She huffs and puffs. “Well no he’s just so arrogant and sarcastic.” I looked back down at my book knowing I had to finish this section. “I would but I have to finish this-”

“You can take my tips from tonight.” That shuts me right up. “Did he already order any doughnuts?” I tied my apron back over my pink polyester uniform quickly. Becky was just able to give that up because she only had this job because she was rich and her parents forced her to get this job to teach her responsibilities even though they still paid for everything she was lucky. She gets a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip. “That’s what I thought, and no.” Correction she was a lucky bitch.

I walked out to this apparently horrible guy and surprisingly he was around my age and wearing a suit, interesting. “Hi I’m Y/n welcome to Griddy’s coffee what can I get you.” he puts down the newspaper and he was one of the cutest assholes I have ever seen. “Coffee black, and try not to burn which I know can be really hard but I need my fix so try okay?” And there is the arrogant and sarcastic part.

The guy had become almost a regular and came in every night at two am on the dot and in the same suit. He looked about twenty-one but around fifty years old in his eyes. This time he came to the bar. “Ahh so we are venturing out to the bar instead of our corner booth today are we?” I asked him teasing him as he sat down. He gave me his usual roll of his eyes and groan. “Y/n just the usual okay?” I wrote it down even though I had it memorized. A black coffee and one glazed doughnut. “Aye aye, captain.”

I got started on his coffee while he was going through some type of file. I put it in front of him and see what he’s going through. “You are in the CIA, no offense but wouldn’t you be like a kindergartener at our age to them?” He looks up at me a little caught off guard. “I tested very high in ninth grade.” That sounds very real. “Okay, then I should be in the same place I was the highest tester in every grade in eighth grade.” He gets a puzzled look. “Really?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I questioned in defense with my hands on my hips. He realizes what he insinuated by accident. “Not that you are dumb I know you are very smart.” I now think he was just trying to save his ass from hot coffee being poured on him. “How?” He glances down at my textbooks. “You’re studying to be a lawyer a public self-defense one at that so that’s how I know. And even if you weren’t you are working every day for the future which I would know is important. I’m… sorry if I made you think otherwise.” I accepted his apology but he wasn’t off the hook yet. “Tell me your name then.” He was baffled. “What?”

“Yeah if I’m going to be serving you coffee for the perceivable future and you are truly sorry I would like your name.” “I can’t do that I’m a CIA agent.” I picked up his cup and canceled the doughnut. “Ok well have a nice life, sir.” I step away and head back to the back doors. I can hear him sigh and mumble something under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this it’s five.” I turn back with a smug smile. I put the coffee back and lean down to him.

“What was that I couldn’t hear you?” He rolls his eyes and answers me. “It’s five.” “Five as in the number?” Five I guess, huffs. “No Five as in the letter, yes the number.” I go back to my standing pose. “Hey Five you just apologized for being an Ahole so watch it, and I like it ‘Five’. ” I said as I put my hands up like it was a headline. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He jokily waved me off. “So what else can I get you Five.” Oh, I was so going to use his name as much as possible.

Five and I had been having fun being sarcastic Aholes to each other but we knew not to push the limits. This night I was very stressed because I had a major test the next day and just couldn’t obtain the information. Five walks in on the dot with his usual snarky attitude. “Hey, waitress I can’t wait forever.” Of course, he was kidding, and had only been thirty seconds since he walked in. “Not in the mood Five,” I said without looking away from my textbook.

“Oh come on you know I can’t function without the best coffee in the world.” I gave him a side eye wanting to blow him off but when I looked in his deep brown eyes I couldn’t say no. “Fine, just so you dont act like a cranky old man again.” I go over to pour it when he looks at my textbook. “You have a test tomorrow?” I sigh and walk over shuffling a little.

“Yes, I do, that I’m totally going bomb that it’s not even funny.” He’s confused. “Why, you are one of the best students in that class.” He stated so straightforwardly with no question. It felt… good when he did it was different than when my friends or parents said the same thing. “For some reason, I can’t get any of the practice questions right.” I pointed at the sheet of questions. “I’ll help you study.” 

I was a little shocked I mean we were friendly but I didn’t know we were friends. “Five I can’t ask you to do that I’m sure you have an important CIA thing to do tomorrow or whatever.” He chuckles at my little jab. “You didn’t ask I’m offering, so better fill up that pot and sit down because you are going to pass this test.” I sit down across from him. “Thank you Five.” 

“Yeah yeah don’t say I never did anything for you.” 

I had the coffee fresh pot made and an extra glazed doughnut laid out when Five walked in. “What’s this- Whoa!” I threw my hands around him hugging him. “Thank you thank you thank you!” He seems unsure but then hugs me back. “I’m assuming that it went well.” I lean back with my arms still around him.

“Top of the class thanks to you!” For the first time, he gives me a genuine smile. “Good.” I then notice the tension between us I awkwardly let go and try to change the tension. “Um, I have everything ready for you. I got to go to do something I’ll be back.” I quickly scurry back to the doors I think about that moment and how it shifted how I saw him. Fuck I think I like Five.

It had been a couple of months after that moment and that I think I like Five has now changed into I know I like Five. So how the hell was I managing this crush good question, I wasn’t. Every time I looked at him my stomach did flips and would not stop. 

One day I was whipping down a table when a guy walked in and sat down at the bar. “Hi there what can getcha you.” He looks around like he was seeing something nostalgic. “Wow, it looks just like the other one.” He muttered. “What was that?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing I’ll talk a vanilla latte and chocolate eclair.” He then looks at the nametag. “Wait are you Y/n?” I look down I mean I think I am. “Right silly question my brother talks about you all the time. You know five.” Five? These two are brothers? “Five is your brother? And he talks about me?” 

“Right that does sound a little silly with how young he looks- I mean is, we are all adopted and my name is Viktor.” He holds out his hand and we shake. “Well, that makes more sense now.” I laugh. “Yeah he talks about how you want to public defense lawyer and how happy you make him so I wanted to thank you it’s been a while since he’s had a good friend.” Right friend what else would we be. “Of course but he can be a…” He finishes my sentence. “An asshole.” “Yes.” We both laughed.

Before I realized it had been six months since I first met Five and it was also Christmas the dinner was being decorated with a disgusting amount of Santas and jingle bells but I liked it reminded me of home. Five walks in an hour late. “Five you are late is your old mind finally catching up to you,” I smirked. “Ha ha, no I had to do something.” I was turned and there was a present on the counter. “Aww Five are you going soft on me.” “Just open it before the sun rises.”

I pull back the paper and there is a jewelry box. I opened it and there was a handmade bracelet. “Uh, I can take it back If-” He reaches for it. “No no, I love it thank you.” I go around the counter to hug him. This time tighter than last to show him I truly loved it. We let go slowly and he puts his hand on my cheek and we lean in. The kiss was slow but still passionate his lips a little chapped but still soft somehow. We let go and put our heads against each other giggling. I looked up and there was mistletoe. “Well, Five we just turned into a Hallmark cliche.” 

“I’m fine with that I’m just sad I didn’t do it sooner.” “Oh really, how long.”

“After I helped you study and you hugged me, Y/n I like you It’s just I’ve really never had a healthy relationship before to be honest I’m a little scared.” 

“Well it’s the same for me Five but we will figure this out together.” “Can I kiss you again?” I grip him by the tie and pull him down into another kiss. And I can’t help but think all this happened because of coffee and sarcasm.

To me, that's how you do a romance. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

[pinoyhawks]

i'll see your heart and i'll raise you mine

takami keigo/hawks x gn!reader

Description: You can read him just as well as he can read you and he's not yet sure whether that's a blessing or a curse.

He's starting to edge toward blessing when you reach for him.

content warnings: hospital setting, whump, graphic description of injuries, brief descriptions of medical procedures, bodily trauma

[crossposted from my ao3: link]

~~~

“So you’ll never guess what I saw today.” Hawks tugs at the curtains, blocking out the golden rays of the setting sun. He knows you hate it when the sun’s in your eyes. “Do you remember that one photoshoot where I had to stick paintbrushes and scrub brushes through my hair and behind my ears and in my mouth?” 

Hawks glances back at you. The slight dip of your head urges him to continue. He gives the curtains a final tug before making a beeline for the electric kettle on the counter of your hospital room’s mini-kitchen. The water within begins to boil at the push of a button.

“When I was on patrol, I saw a billboard advertising some sort of brush for feathers and—wouldn’t you know it?—I was on it! Apparently, that was what the photoshoot was for! Brushes for feathers!” 

He shakes his head in disbelief as he tears open two packets of peppermint tea, the electric kettle beeping loudly as steam pours out of its spout. “They didn’t even tell me what the photoshoot was for while we were taking it. Wanna know what the kicker is?” 

He pauses for one or two seconds, for both dramatic effect and for the space where your answer would be, before pressing on. “They didn’t even give me one of those feather brushes!” 

Hawks dips two bags of peppermint tea in and out of two paper cups, one for you and one for him. “I mean, I’ll admit, my feathers don’t really need brushing nor did I really want one, but still. Would’ve been nice to receive some sort of care package or branded gift basket from them, right?” 

The smell from such a small portion invades his nostrils and feels like toothpicks sticking into his brain. How you drink this every night without getting overstimulated, he’ll never know, but there’s no way he’ll make a fuss about it. Not when recovery from your incident demanded that much of your independence and daily rituals be taken away from you. 

Hawks figures it must have been painful to be denied the simple joy of having a cup of peppermint tea before bed during the worst parts of your recovery. So he makes two. One for you to drink, one for him to hold. You’ll finish yours and he’ll give you his. 

He picks up the two cups and makes his way to you, treading carefully so as not to spill. From your seat on the hospital bed, you carefully pull the overbed table towards you, a safe place for two cups of tea to land. “I know it’s stupid,” Hawks says, gently placing one cup in front of you, “but hey. You asked me to talk about my day and that was the only thing I could think of.” 

You beam up at him before shaking your head as if to say, No, I don’t think it’s stupid. I’d ask for a gift basket too if they made me stick a toothbrush up my nose and took a picture of it without telling me what it was for.  

Something in his chest aches at the thought of your possible response. His grip on his paper cup tightens as he watches you breathe in the minty steam before taking your very first sip.

It’s been two weeks since the incident, hard to tell from how quickly you’re recovering physically. Dark circles still bruise the bags of your eyes, your face looks gaunter, and your skin looks a little duller than usual, but the scratches on your face are shrinking and with every change of bandages he stumbles upon, the gauze wrapped around your abdomen comes away with less and less blood. 

Yes, you’re healing, no doubt about it, but the silence that hangs over your room and fills the air like a wicked miasma tells him a completely different story. 

A quick tap on his arm startles Hawks out of his spiral. You fix him with a concerned look, brows knitted together. Hey. You’re flying off again. Come back to me . Hawks tacks on those last two words, just for himself. You’d never say those last two words, but he lets himself be selfish in that way. It’s hard for him not to be selfish when it comes to knowing ( knowing , not guessing ) what you, his very first, genuine friend, would say. 

Hawks plasters a placating grin on his face. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, patting the back of your hand. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Your lips press together briefly before splitting into an affirmative smile, but Hawks catches the microexpression quick enough. You don’t really believe he’s fine, but for his sake, you’ll help him keep up that silly little illusion. You can read him just as well as he can read you and he’s not yet sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse. 

He’s starting to edge towards ‘blessing’ when you reach for him, palm up and fingers opening and closing. Hawks switches his cup to his other hand to take yours. As soon as his hand is in yours, your thumb brushes over the back of his, back and forth, back and forth. It’s okay. It’s okay, you seem to say. You smile up at him as you squeeze his hand tightly. It’s gonna be okay.

Hawks swallows down the lump in his throat at how the situation has turned itself around. He’s here to comfort you in your trying times, not you comfort him for not being fine. 

You’re the one who got caught in the crossfires of a villain attack, not him. You’re the one who suffered multiple blunt-force injuries in the chest, the stomach, and the head from being tossed around so violently, not him. You’re the one who could barely breathe the moment you entered the hospital’s treatment room, your breath rattling as your lungs fought to push air in and out of you from within your battered ribcage, not him. You’re the one who’s nonverbal thanks to a mix of trauma from the incident and vocal cord paralysis from your injuries, not him. You’re the one relying on body language and the notes app of your phone to ask for the simplest things, not him. 

Between you and him, Hawks is the most selfish person in the room. How dare he call himself a hero? 

Hawks drops your hand. 

For a moment, your expression falls before he takes your hand in his once more. His thumb strokes over the cracked and scarred skin of your knuckles in the same way you did his. Your smile makes his heart hammer against his ribcage. He sets down his paper cup on the overbed table to cup your hand in both of his. 

I’m here. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you, he hopes he says as he raises your hand to his mouth. 

Briefly, he presses his lips to your knuckles. Short, but reverent in every way. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Hawks looks up at you with bated breath, taking in your softened gaze, your teary eyes, and the pleased curve of your smile.

You set your cup down on the overbed table, right next to his, and cradle Hawks’s cheek in your palm. Something blooms in your chest, something much more powerful than fear and injury.

“Love you, too.”

[xxacademy]

tender

husband!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: succumbing to injuries inflicted by a B.O.W you fight the mental and physical battle to recovery. meanwhile, your husband does everything in his power to support you.

any leon timeline works, except re2. i did have older leon in mind though <3

a/n: inspired by lil a snippet from an anon request, find it here. anyhow, i love how this turned out, i was 🥺 writing it. pls lemme know what you think <33

content//warnings: depictions of blood & injury, hospital setting, non-graphic description of an IV, pain medication, y/n is used ONCE, pet names (dear, sweetheart, honey), hurt/comfort.

harsh white light wakes you revealing an image of horror. your trembling hands painted with your own dried blood, hooked up to an IV and a pulse oximeter. dazed, you know you’re in pain, but it’s not registering. it’s like you’re floating, possibly in a dream. a bad dream. but the reality of your condition is enough to confirm this is in fact not.

there’s a small group of medical staff standing at the end of your bed, talking quietly amongst each other. “the bloodwork came back, she’s not infected. all though the acid is wreaking havoc on her immune system, sending it into overdrive. the patient needs to be monitored for at least another two days.”

one of the nurses walks over to check on you, first, he looks at the monitors at your bedside, then goes to place a hand on your forehead. he notices you’re waking up, your heavy-lidded eyes focused on your hands.

he calls the doctor over, who pulls a chair up next to you. “hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is soft and calm.

“w-why am i here?” you mutter shakily, unable to make out much more.

“you sustained serious injuries on an extraction mission against a bio-organic weapon. you came in contact with its lethal acid, which is primarily why you’re here. your ankle is broken and you have puncture wounds in your arms.”

you’re still fixed on your bloodied hands, images of what you endured flood back. it was so intense- the last thing you remembered is a sharp talon-like claw piercing your upper arm. it all went fuzzy after that.

“you had surgery early this morning, and we have you on a morphine drip to help with the pain. please let us know if you begin to feel ill.”

you respond with an unsteady nod.

“you’re gonna be alright.” she smiles sympathetically.

another nurse comes into the room walking directly to the doctor. their speaking is hushed. “doctor, there’s a man here to see the patient. he says he’s her husband.”

“we can’t risk exposure from an outsider, we can’t have visitors yet.”

“he seems antsy.”

“well, assure him that she’s okay”-

the room is dead silent, so you can rather clearly make out what they’re saying.

“bring him in.” your voice quivering.

their heads turn, giving you a look of disappointment. similar to the one your mother gave you as a child. a sullen expression of remorse when she couldn’t afford to buy you new toys.

they do not want to hold your loved ones away from you. but it’s what has to be done. after all, it could mean life or death.

you sigh. you’re in no place to put up a fight.

“i’ll talk to him.” the nurse whispers. leaving the room.

“i’m sorry mrs. kennedy, you’re just not in a well enough state for visitors yet.”

you respond with yet another dreary sigh. fidgeting with the ring finger of your left hand.

your wedding ring is missing. you know you were wearing it prior. you’re always wearing it. sometimes you would loop it around a necklace chain, but you didn’t before this mission. surely it was on your finger.

“-doctor” you whisper.

“yes mrs. kennedy.”

“do you have my wedding ring?”

your tattered and blood-stained belongings were placed in a biohazard bag. a nurse picks up the bag feeling through the plastic for a ring.

“it’s not in here.” the nurse admits, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

“that’s okay.” you exhale.

it’s not okay. your beautiful diamond ring was more than just a pretty thing. it was one of the only sentimental pieces you coveted so highly. hand-picked by leon, it was a symbol of his undying affection. despite all the odds pinned against your love.

wanting to cry, but your bloodshot eyes are dry. the medication numbs you enough to let the pain run by, but you still feel broken, physically and mentally.

the hours pass as you bob in and out of sleep. your wavering limb’s finally settling. nurses and doctors are always present, constantly checking your vitals.

the next day two nurses come to bathe you at your bedside. gently wiping the sticky dried blood from your skin. the other trying to get it out of your hair.

“thank you, i mean it, thank you,” you whisper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

it was a relief. the sweet, metallic smell was driving you crazy. it felt itchy and uncomfortable against your skin.

…

leon hasn’t left the hospital. confined to a chair in the waiting room for the last day and a half. constantly flagging down staff for updates on your condition.

“she’s doing really well, the blood transfusion took perfectly.” the nurse smiles reassuringly.

“does that mean i can see her?”

“not yet, but soon.”

leon sighs. “well anyways, thanks for the good news.”

he sullenly returns to his chair. the stress and lack of sleep painting his under eyes dark. in his grasp is a picture you two took together, one he always carries in his wallet. it was taken a few years ago and you’re kissing his cheek. it’s the only solace he can find in the depressing waiting room.

leon had fallen asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours. slumped over in his chair, chin resting in his palm. he jerked awake when his chin slipped. it was dark outside and the lobby eerily quiet.

3:47am

leon walks to the front desk heavy-footed and groggy. “my wife, y/n kennedy, is she okay?” his voice is grave.

“yes sir, she’s sleeping- and everything is looking good. but, you should get some sleep too sir, it’s gonna be a while until she wakes up.”

“-thanks.”

the pain of not being able to see you cuts like a knife. leon can't stand the image of you suffering and alone. but he’s borderline delirious from the sleep deprivation. he returns to his chair, lays his legs out across another, and falls asleep.

leon is jolted awake by a nurse tapping his shoulder. it’s morning- warm sun seeping through the windows and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the lobby.

“do you need me to move?” he asks, still half asleep. voice deep and raspy.

“oh no mr. kennedy, your wife is on the right track to her recovery. you can go see her now.”

…

you feel much more alert, the daze the blanketing your apprehensive thoughts finally lifting. they switched you onto a far less invasive medication, which was probably helping.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen leon, and about two of those he’s been here, but just barely out of reach.

whenever the nurses praised you for the progress you made- you jump straight to asking if you're well enough for visitors. In your defense, it’s been unbelievably hard going through this journey alone.

the door creeks open, a very common occurrence of your stay. but instead peaking through the door is your blonde-haired husband.

you immediately start to cry- tears welling up and streaming down your cheeks. leon tears up too, casting a glossy filter over his blue eyes. he delicately wraps his arms around you, careful not to inflict any more pain. and you bury your face into his chest, immediately staining his shirt with your cry.

“i missed you, leon, i can't believe you’re here, i’ve missed you so much.” you sob.

“it’s really you, you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you, dear.”

you take your time, relishing in the comfort of your husband's arms. he gently rubs your back, consoling you with his touch.

“how're you feeling?”

“ugh okay, i guess. my whole body hurts and i can barely move. but the doctors say i’m improving- so yippee” your deadpan tone emphasizes how exhausted you are.

“that’s what i heard. and look, i know it’s been hard, but i’m so proud of how strong you’ve been, sweetheart.”

“i love you.”

“i love you, too” leon squeezes his embrace around you a little tighter, gently kissing the top of your head.

you smile, the first one in a while. but it quickly fades. “leon, can i tell you something.”

“of course you can.”

you fidget with your hands pressing your face deeper in his chest. “i lost my wedding ring- i think it was during the mission. i’m so sorry.”

“is that really what’s on your mind right now?” leon chuckles.

you look up at him with, tears streaming down your face. “you do understand how much that ring meant to me.”

“of course, i know, dear. but how can i care about the stupid ring if the wife i thought died is actually alive and in my arms?”

leon wipes the tears from your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw. “i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“okay.” you say sniffling your runny nose.

with a big yawn, leon stands up raising both arms up into a stretch, his shirt lifts up slightly showing off his abdomen. “i’m going to find your doctor, see when you’re coming home.”

you smile. it’s nice not being alone. you feel bad knowing leon anxiously waited at the hospital for days. but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in knowing how much he cares. leon had always cared about you- before you were even dating. that’s one of the many reasons why you married him. aside from the ongoing list of shared interests- he’s so protective, it’s one of his beautiful ways of loving you.

leon comes back to the room, “looks like they need to run more blood tests, make sure that acid is out of your bloodstream before you come home.”

you’re totally spaced out, it feels like you haven’t even had a chance to take in what’s happened to you. it’s all become a blur, taking in the moments a second at a time. you were so worried about the details it almost failed to compute that you were nearly infected by the very thing you swore your life to rid of.

like a time release valve finally triggering; anxiety washes you cold- it could have been the end. leon would have been widowed, and all your friends would have been at your funeral. your mind is playing devil's advocate. what if i don’t get better? are the doctors just hoping i stay positive?

“are you okay?” leon’s bloodshot eyes are nearly aching with concern.

“i’m scared.” your chest is sinking deeper with each anxious breath.

“why? why would you be scared?”

it may not make sense to you now- but having leon there was a sort of reality check. alone, you just survived. with him, everything has weight.

“i dunno… i just want things to be okay. i want you to be okay, i want to get better.”

leon rushes to your bedside, holding your hands in his. “but it will get better- you’re doing better, so much better! i’ll be there every step of the way. i promise you.”

you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. trying to hang on to his words.

you sob, absolutely overcome by emotion. “i love you, leon. thank you for being here, thank you for everything you’ve done.”

a nurse knocks at the door but you don’t let go of leon’s hand.

“mrs. kennedy- so sorry to intrude. but the doctor wants to do a scan of your ankle. is that okay?”

you wipe the tears from your face, trying to compose yourself.

“yes, of course, that’s alright, thank you.”

leon whispers “you got this, dear,” before standing up and sitting in a chair by the window.

…

leon has done everything possible to make the next few days easier for you. like ordering takeout and watching your favorite movies with you. serving as a distraction while you recover.

it certainly worked. he’s good at keeping you calm, and the energy light-hearted. you didn’t even think it was possible, given the grim reality of your circumstances. but somehow he can have your eyes filled with tears, giggling with laughter.

four days you’ve been in the hospital, and today is your last one. you’re able to stand up and the effects from the B.O.W are finally gone. granted you still have a long journey to recovery, at least you can go home.

…

after the agonizing hours of travel, you make it home. leon helps you into the house, guiding you to your bed. “i want to take a bath, i feel disgusting.”

“i’ll draw one for you, you want it now?”

“hmhm” you nod.

“sure thing, sweetheart.” leon tenderly kisses your forehead.

he runs a hot bath, adding a little lavender soap, just the way you like it. he walks you to the tub and helps you undress. he holds your hand as you shakily step in, slowly adjusting to the hot water.

“god my first real bath in a week, can you believe it.” you sigh, sinking your body in the bubbly water.

leon chuckles, “i know, you poor thing, those nurses really tried their best to help. but it’s never the same, is it?”

“…especially considering i was covered in congealed zombie guts”

leon laughs, “but look at you now, covered in…” he pauses to read the name on the soap bottle “…lavender dreams”

you both giggle, in love and delighted by each other's company.

“okay, i’ll leave you to it, holler if you need anything.”

…

“leon! will you fetch my bathrobe!” you yell from the bathroom. you hear his feet patter across the hardwood, “coming."

you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your wet hair, inspecting the scars, bruises, and stitches that litter your body. it feels like you came home to a different person, a body you’re now unfamiliar with.

leon peaks through the door. head cocked to the side. “everything alright, baby?”

“i don’t know- it’s hard to wrap my head around it. i-i feel off.”

“c’mere i got something to show ya.” leon swoops you off your feet carrying you in his arms.

“what are you doing?” you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you’ll see.”

he delicately sets you down on the couch in the living room and sits next to you. he fumbles around in his pocket pulling out a little black velvet box.

“leon-honey, oh my god, what is that.” your eyes are round and doe-like, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

he opens the box, presenting it to you as if his hands were a clamshell, revealing a glimmering ring set in pearlescent white satin.

“for you- i know it was hard losing the ring, but that one was beaten up anyways. you deserve something a little nicer.”

tears swell, gathering in the inner corners of your eyes. chocked up and rendered speechless, you mouth the words, i love you.

he reached for your trembling left hand, sliding the diamond wedding ring onto your finger.

“i love you, most.” he beams, the words fluttering with tenderness.

“i-i love the ring, it’s beautiful-truly. but how’d you do it?”

“do what?”

“get a new ring, you were with me the entire time…?”

“i have my ways,” he smirks, planning on keeping that little secret to himself.

leon holds your hand, admiring the way your hand looks adorned by his diamond ring.

“remember when we got engaged?” he muses.

“of course i do! you took me to milan, i should have known you were going to propose.”

“you have the same look in your eyes as you did then.” leon swipes his thumb along your cheek, smiling to himself, gazing into your eyes.

“and you’re as smooth as ever” you look at him through your lashes, pupils wide. “but really leon, thank you, means more than the world”

“you are my world.” his soft lips meet yours, kissing you gently.

somewhere in the crystal pools of leon’s eyes, you find the hope you were looking for. his unbreakable faith in you, alongside his never-ending acts of love, is reassuring.

hell, it’s not going to be easy, but at least you're not alone.

⭐️tags

@yourgentlegirlfriend

[mayhem24-7forever]

Need You Tonight

Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson Fic

Author’s Note: IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER, THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, DO NOT INTERACT! This is dedicated to and inspired by the lovely Shan/ @bvcksmurdock. Hope you like the title as a cheeky little inside joke. Special thanks to Arne @lovearne for finding me the floor plan of Eddie’s trailer and to Ashley @likedovesinthewnd and Nina @chaseadrian for helping me get the pipe smoking correct since I have only done edibles lmao. Also huge thank you’s to Vee @a-reader-and-a-writer , Leah @ohtobeleah and Shelby @rhettabbotts for beta reading/editing/giving advice when I was lost. I made the executive decision to set this in late 1987 specifically so I could include a reference to the song that gave me the title, which means it’s set like a year after season 4 so uhhhhhhhh fix it fic I guess. fic dividers from @firefly-graphics

Content Warnings: not canon oops, fix it fic kinda, SMUT, smoking weed/doing drugs, drinking/getting drunk, getting crossfaded (high and drunk at the same time), explicit consent despite mind-altering substances but I was still advised to say dubious consent because of this, blacking out/passing out (not any of the main three), dirty talk, swearing/language, dirty talk (like absolutely filthy, including the word “cunt” and “slut”), Dom!Eddie, Switch!Steve, Sub!Reader, M/M/F threesome, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), handjobs, fingering, penis in vagina sex, anal sex, double penetration (penis in vagina and penis in asshole), bondage (handcuffs and rope), gags (cloth/bandana gag), light spanking, BDSM elements, dom/sub elements, masturbation, brief love triangle that is ended by a threesome (as most love triangles should end), Steve and Eddie are consent kings, all three are unbelievably horny, spanking as flirting, orgasming so many times you pass out, Eddie is currently in charge of the singular steddie brain cell, aftercare, usage of a ridiculous amount of pet names (Reader calls them “Eds” and “Stevie”, Steve calls them “baby” and “lover boy” and Eddie calls them “princess” and “big boy”), Robin awkwardly walking in and seeing something she shouldn’t have.

“I swear to god, if you put Cyndi Lauper in my cassette player, I’m throwing the tape out the window.” Eddie warned.

“Oh, come on! I love this album!” Y/N replied incredulously. “It has all my favorite songs!”

Eddie was leaning back against the wall casually, beer bottle in hand as Y/N stood at the player, shoebox of cassette tapes in hand. Nancy and Jonathan sat behind them on the couch and even with just four people, Eddie’s trailer was already beginning to feel a little crowded. Jonathan was smoking a joint, his arm around Nancy as they talked quietly, making lovey eyes at each other. Nancy was sipping on a can of soda, having decided to be his designated driver. The whole group was having a party, although Steve, Robin, and her girlfriend Vickie hadn’t arrived yet. 

“Sorry, princess. This is a Lauper-free trailer. It’s out of my hands.” Eddie said, putting his hands up in a mock surrender with a shit-eating grin.

“Fine.” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Then I’m putting in ABBA.”

“Fuck no, you’re not!” Eddie said, pushing off the wall to get closer to her.

“God, you’re so picky Eds!” she scoffed, mildly annoyed. “Why’d you tell me to bring the music for the party if you’re not gonna let me play any of it?”

“Just let me see what else you have.” he said, walking over to her, taking the shoe box and immediately making a face as if the collection personally offended him.

“Oh, come on! I know it’s not heavy metal and rock ‘n roll but my taste in music is just as good as yours!” she exclaimed defensively. 

“Queen, Billy Idol and Oingo Boingo are good, you can play those. Tears for Fears and Duran Duran are a stretch that I’ll allow because you’re so cute, but the rest of this pop shit is staying in this box the whole night.” Eddie said and her jaw went slack with shock.

She knew that they were just playing, it was just something she and Eddie did, like how she and Steve were very touchy with one another. Everyone in the friend group, except for her, knew that Eddie and Steve both had crushes on her and were engaged in a (mostly) friendly competition to get her attention. And everyone in the group, except for Steve and Eddie, knew that she was head over heels for both of them but couldn’t pick between them. Unbeknownst to the three, Robin had even been taking bets from as to which one of them is finally going to do something and when. Even in his weed-induced haze, Jonathan knew that the bickering and flirting was only going to get worse the longer it went on and he decided to speak up.

“Oh, come on Eddie! Just let her play her music!” Jonathan interjected from the couch and Y/N shook her head in agreement.

“See, Jonathan is fine with my music!” she said with a pleased smile.

“Jonathan is high as a kite, I could put on whale sounds and he’d think it was the greatest thing ever made.” Eddie replied.

“Hey!” Jonathan protested before Nancy spoke up.

“Eddie, it’s her turn to pick the music for the party, you don’t get to control it just because we’re having it at your place.” Nancy said.

Eddie looked back to Y/N. She put her bottom lip out in the most pitiful pout she could manage, batting her eyelashes for good measure. He stared at her for a moment, trying not to think about what those big pleading eyes would look like under him, begging for release.

“Fine, I yield, my lady.” Eddie finally said, giving a little bow and a flourish towards the cassette player, using the same medieval-style voice he used in D&D. It was a flirting tactic he used often because the character she played in his campaigns was a princess, and Eddie was nothing if not thoroughly dramatic.

“Oh, thank you Eds!” She squealed in joy, grinning from ear to ear as she pounced into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a grateful kiss on his cheek.

He returned her embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist until he had to pull away so she wouldn’t feel a certain appendage of his that was rising to the occasion in his pants.

 “I never can resist that lovely pouty face of yours.” he said with a charming smile and she blushed deeply before turning around to the cassette player.

She slipped a Hall & Oates tape in and hit play, the opening notes of “Maneater” booming from the speakers. She began to sway her hips to the beat, dancing as she smiled at Eddie, victorious. He shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling. He took another swig of his beer as she danced, taking the opportunity to let his eyes rake over her body and thoroughly appreciate what he saw. She had taken off her heels almost as soon as she had arrived, preferring to traipse around the carpet of the trailer barefoot—not that Eddie minded in the slightest—as it allowed her to dance more freely. She was wearing a low cut blouse and a short skirt and as she moved around, her breasts bounced in her top, glimpses of her ass visible through the ruffles of her skirt. A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts of what she’d look like without all the clothes and he called out that it was unlocked, the door opened and Robin and Vickie coming in.

“We’re dancing already?” Robin exclaimed and pulled Vickie closer to the stereo, joining in as Y/N laughed.

“Thanks for the help Robin!” Steve said sarcastically as he stepped through the door, three pizza boxes with a few packs of beer on top in his arms, his sunglasses riding low on his nose.

“You’re welcome, Steve!” Robin responded with a laugh.

“Looking hot tonight, baby!” Steve said shifting the weight onto one arm so he could give Y/N’s ass a playful smack as her walked by her.

“Calm down, Stevie! You only just got here!” she giggled and Steve smirked as he entered the kitchen.

Eddie downed what was left of the almost empty bottle and put it down as he pushed off the wall to join Steve in the kitchen area. Steve put the pizza on the counter, took off his sunglasses, and was sticking the beers in the fridge when Eddie walked in.

“We need to talk, Harrington.” Eddie hissed lowly.

“Yes, her ass felt spectacular.” Steve replied with a smirk.

“No, Harrington. I’m serious.” Eddie shot back.

“Me too.” Steve said with a chuckle and Eddie grumbled, leaning in closer.

“Dude, I’m losing my fucking mind right now.” He said as Steve finished putting the beers in the fridge and stood up to look at Eddie properly. “If I watch her dance like that any longer, I’ll be cumming in my jeans. We have to do something.”

“Munson, we agreed that if anything with her is gonna happen for either of us, she’s gotta be the one to start it. We can flirt as much as we want, but no matter how sexy she is, or how much we want her, we can’t be the ones to make the first move. We agreed, man!” Steve replied, popping the top off of a beer bottle and taking a swig. 

“Harrington, fucking look at her right now.” Eddie hissed, swiping the bottle from Steve’s hand and taking a large swig. 

Steve sighed, grabbing another bottle and popping the top off before peeking his head around the kitchen cabinets to look into the living room.

He watched her dance for thirty seconds or so and then turned back to Eddie, adjusting the front of his pants awkwardly. “Yeah, we need to figure this out—and fast! I can’t look at her in that top all night and not ask her to fuck me. One of us needs to drop out.” The pair silently looked at one another, waiting for the other to just give up but neither of them said a word.

“Let’s just pull her aside together and tell her we both want her and see who she picks. It’s not the smoothest move but at least it’ll end this.” Steve finally suggested when it became abundantly clear that neither of them were ever going to volunteer to step out of the running. “She picks whoever she picks and the other one, probably you, just takes the loss like a man and moves on.”

“You seem very confident that she’ll pick either of us. We drop a bomb like this on her and ask her to make a choice and she’ll freak the fuck out.” Eddie said. “She’s never been able to make snap decisions, even for things she feels strongly about, so even if she’s already interested in one of us, she’s gonna get so overwhelmed that she’ll choose neither of us.”

“Well, what the fuck are we going to do then?” Steve asked. “Only one of us can have her… and that’s if she wants us after all.”

“Harrington, you just gave me an idea.” Eddie muttered, his face growing into a grin. 

“Enlighten me then, Munson.” Steve huffed impatiently.

“We don’t ask her to choose.” Eddie said.

“I’m not following.” Steve replied.

“We tell her that we’re both interested in her and that we’d like to share a night with her. Together.” Eddie explained, Steve’s eyes widening in recognition.

“Are you suggesting a threesome?” Steve replied and let out a small laugh in disbelief as Eddie nodded.

“As long as we can get along and share, then she wouldn’t have to choose between us. If she says no, then at least she’ll know we’re both interested and she can act on that information later if she wants to.” he said.

“And if she says yes…” Steve trailed off as they grinned at one another. “Fuck, Munson, I could kiss you right now.”

“Save that energy for later, big boy.” Eddie joked with a wink, giving Steve a light slap on the ass as he walked out of the kitchen with a smirk.

Several hours and a pack of beer or two later, Nancy announced that she was going to take Jonathan home, the pair walking out the door to a chorus of ‘bye’ and ‘have fun fucking’. Less than thirty minutes later, Robin and Vickie had passed out, super drunk, cuddling on the couch together as Steve covered them with a blanket.

“And then there were three.” Y/N joked, lying on the floor with one of the couch pillows underneath her head.

“I’m gonna smoke, wanna join?” Eddie asked, his back leaning up against the wall as he sat on the floor.

“Drinking and smoking?” she asked, clutching a hand to her chest and pretending to be scandalized. “How positively devious of you!”

“Princess, I’m barely even tipsy.” Eddie replied.

“Fuck, me too. I could use some weed.” Steve said, sitting on the ground beside Eddie. 

“That’s two. Princess, care to join us?” Eddie asked.

From their viewpoint, they could see the side profile of her body, her head turned towards them, one knee bent up in the air. They could see the swell of her breasts with every breath and part of her skirt had hiked up, providing a tantalizing tease of her panties. Every curve and dip of her body was on display like a statue of Aphrodite from a museum in the flesh. Her hair was fanned out on the ground and her eyelids just a touch hooded by alcohol, her wide pupils gazing at them through her lashes. Her lips were pursed slightly as she considered his proposition and the boys couldn’t help but imagine what they would look like wrapped around a cock. Eddie moved his beer bottle to cover the growing bulge in his pants and Steve tried to stifle a groan into a cough, both praying she wouldn’t notice.

“I want to Eds, but I’ve only done edibles.” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve never smoked, I don’t know how.”

“No time to learn like the present.” Eddie said and she glanced over at the sleeping girls.

“Won’t we bother them?” she asked.

“They’re out cold, nothing we do is gonna wake them up.” Steve assured her.

“Maybe we should move somewhere else, just in case. Eds, can we smoke in your bedroom?” she asked and the innocent tone in her voice made Steve stand straight up and pretend he was getting another slice of pizza, just so he could hide his boner from her as he tried to calm himself down.

“If that is what you desire, princess, then we shall make it so.” Eddie replied, getting up and moving to stand by her feet, trying to ignore the sexy way she looked laid out below him, like a spread from a porno mag come to life.

He lowered his hand to her and just as she took it, he hauled her up to her feet quickly and then over his shoulder in one swift motion. Steve took one look at her gorgeous ass on Eddie’s shoulder and bit his fist to stop from making noise, his eyes telegraphing to Eddie that if he kept this up, he wouldn’t last long. Eddie only smirked at him, very pleased with himself. When she realized what he’d done, she playfully slapped at his back, her legs kicking up a little in fake protest. 

“Eds! I can walk to your room myself!” she laughed.

“But my lady, a princess requires a royal steed! Her royal feet must not touch the same ground as commoners such as us.” Eddie replied in his D&D voice and she giggled, rolling her eyes. 

“Lead away then, stable boy.” she said.

“Stable boy?” Eddie said in mock offense. “I’m at least a coachman.”

“Are we going to smoke or just stand here arguing until the sun rises?” she said.

“Ooo, bossy tonight, huh?” Eddie replied, giving her ass a light pat before he started walking towards his room, her giggles filling the trailer as they went.

“Stevie, can you grab the boombox please?” she called as they passed through the doorway to Eddie’s room. 

“Ye- uh yeah.” Steve croaked out, his voice cracking a little as he grabbed it and followed.

Eddie dropped her on to the bed and her body bounced once before coming to rest on the mattress, her breasts bouncing and her skirt flying up for a moment. With great difficulty, Eddie pulled himself away from staring at her jiggling tits so he could rummage through the drawers of his dresser for the metal tin he kept his weed in. The bed was in the corner of the messy room and Y/N sat up with her back on the wall, leaving room for Eddie and Steve on either side. Steve entered the room, setting the boombox on Eddie’s dresser before plopping down at the end of the bed against the wall next to her.

“Heads up Harrington!” Eddie called before he tossed the metal tin at Steve who caught it easily as Eddie headed over to pick a tape for the player.

Steve opened the tin up and began grabbing what he needed to roll some joints. Eddie put in an INXS tape he had just bought.

“Haven’t smoked to this album yet, it should be good.” he said as he turned around.

“What’s with all the handcuffs, Eds?” she asked with a smirk, gesturing at the hook on his wall where he kept a bunch of them.

“Oh, they can come in handy sometimes, no pun intended. The ladies seem to love them and I haven’t had any complaints from the guys either.” he said with a wink. It was an open secret within the group that both Eddie and Steve enjoyed men and women, although they were generally pretty quiet about it. “Why, princess? Are you curious?”

“Just asking.” she said casually.

“Well if you’d like to try them on to see how they feel, that can always be arranged.” he replied and she blushed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you, lover boy?” Steve muttered, trying to keep his tone sarcastic and playful instead of revealing the jealousy he was feeling.

The boys made tense eye contact for a second but she didn’t notice because she was too busy reaching into the tin and pulling out a pipe to look at it curiously.

“How does this work?” she asked and Steve chuckled. 

“Just like a regular tobacco pipe, but with weed.” he replied.

“Can I try it?” she asked, looking over at Eddie with a smile.

“Whatever you want, princess.” he replied before walking to the bed and sitting next to her but with his back against the headboard so he could talk with her easily. “Steve and I are probably gonna share a joint though so we don’t have to keep repacking the bowl all the time.”

“My Stevie and my Eds playing nice and sharing something together? Voluntarily? Without trying to kill each other? Is the world coming to an end?” she questioned, surprised but pleased with their sudden cooperation.

“I think you’ll find that ‘Eds’ and I have recently realized our interests are aligned. We can play nice and share all sorts of things, baby.” Steve said, finishing rolling the joint and lit it, taking in a few puffs before passing it to Eddie.

To reach Eddie, he needed to lean over her. His head was near her chest as he stretched and she stopped breathing for a moment, just taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of hairspray, a scent that had become oddly comforting to her, lingering even as he pulled back. Eddie took a few puffs and then handed it back to Steve, leaning in as well. She could feel a few locks of his hair just barely grazing the bare skin on her chest and suppressed a shiver. His usual scent of cigarettes had invaded her senses and together with Steve’s hairspray were making it hard to think. 

Eddie sat back as Steve put some weed into the spoon-like end at the end of the pipe, explaining that it was called “packing the bowl” and she tried to rouse her thoughts back to the present. Steve leaned in to hold the pipe up for her and press a flame from his lighter under the bowl and Eddie gave her instructions on when to suck the air in, when to hold it, and when to let go, his voice low in her ear. 

As she blew out the last of the smoke, she heard him coo “There’s a good girl, you did it perfectly on your first try.”

She tried to ignore the way those two little words, just a simple “good girl” made her stomach flip, fanning the spark from deeper below until the desire was burning within her. She wondered if that was what his bedroom voice sounded like. They talked her through another one and as she exhaled, she heard Steve whisper in her ear, so low it was almost a growl.

“Doing so good, baby.” he said and she squeaked, trying to play it off as a cough.

Steve and Eddie knew exactly what they were doing to her, it was the same thing she had been doing to them all night, what she was still doing to them as she drew the phallic-looking pipe to her luscious lips and sucked in. Steve took another few hits of the joint and she watched as a single strand of his hair fell in front of his face, resting on his forehead. He leaned over again and passed it to Eddie, who brought it to his lips for a hit. He was taking a long drag when she found herself admiring how his mouth curled around the end and when he leaned his head back and let out a long exhaled cloud of smoke, she was struck by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his neck stretched ever so slightly. She was still staring when he finished the breath and his eyes caught hers upon him, a smirk growing on his face.

“Like what you see, princess?” he asked and her mind just stopped.

Suddenly, it was like someone had taken her brain and stuck it in a blender, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to explain why she had been watching him like that. She couldn’t exactly tell him that she had been staring at him because being this close to him and Steve was making her unbelievably horny.

“I…umm, I just… I was just…I-” she stammered out and Eddie smiled.

“It’s alright princess, I don’t mind your pretty eyes watching me.” he told her, moving closer until his lips were only inches from her face. “Steve and I have been watching you all night.”

“You… you have?” she asked, barely a whisper.

“Baby, Eddie and I have been trying to get your attention for a while.” Steve whispered into her ear, now hovering just over her neck and she shivered.

“We were in a bit of a competition, both of us wanted you but neither of us seemed to be getting anywhere.” Eddie said, his fingers reaching under her chin to turn her head back towards him. “It’s been so frustrating, wanting you so bad, hoping we could make you want us before the other could. Tonight we decided to put our differences aside and come clean with you.” 

“You want me?” she breathed out and Steve’s hot breath was back on her ear as her body instinctually leaned towards him.

“We do.” he said. “And we’re willing to share, if it’s what you want.”

Oh god, did she want it. Her mind was screaming at her to say something, to tell them just how long she had been waiting for one of them to make a move, how never in her wildest dreams had she imagined they’d both want her and especially not that they’d want her together. She wanted to tell them how many times she had collapsed into her pillows with her hand between her legs thinking of them. But her mind felt like jello and all she could do was suck in a breath. Steve’s fingers inched along the skin of her thigh, Eddie’s dancing lightly on her arm, only further scrambling her thoughts with the finger-light touches. She closed her eyes, unable to do anything but feel and want and burn.

“Come on princess, I know I’ve been thinking about it all night.” Eddie said, still so close that she could almost feel the tip of his nose on hers. “The tentpole in Steve’s jeans assures you he’s thinking the same thing. And the way you’re squeezing your legs together so hard they might turn red makes me pretty damn sure you’re thinking about it too.”

“If you don’t want this, we can leave and pretend it never even happened. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.” Steve said, lips ghosting over the skin of her neck. “But if you say the word, you can have us, baby. Whenever you want. Wherever you want. However you want. One at a time… at the same time…”

She gasped and her eyes shot open. She found herself staring straight into Eddie’s gorgeous brown eyes, darker than usual with lust.

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” he asked, smirking. “Want one of us buried deep in that tight, wet cunt of yours while the other fucks your pretty little mouth?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, I do, I do…” she whispered and was rewarded with Steve’s lips on her neck, his hand finally finding hold on her thigh and she struggled to continue speaking as Steve attacked her neck with his skilled mouth. “Haven’t… done this… before. Not with… more than… one person.”

“That’s alright, princess.” Eddie assured her, his hand light on her cheek, his rings cool on her hot skin. “We can go slow. We’ll take real good care of you.”

Eddie’s lips crashed into hers just as Steve found the most sensitive spot on her neck and she gasped into Eddie’s mouth, quickly turning into a moan. She could feel Steve’s smile on her skin before he resumed to leaving a trail of hickeys on her neck and shoulder. One of his hands was gripping her thigh, the pressure keeping her grounded as the other hand splayed right in the middle of her back, pushing her closer to them. Eddie didn’t give up his assault on her lips, kissing her as if he needed it to breathe. One hand remained on her cheek, his thumb rubbing her cheekbone lovingly, a harsh juxtaposition of his mouth’s ferocity, his other hand resting on her chest, right on top of her heart.

“Wait.” She breathed out into Eddie’s mouth and suddenly their hands and lips disappeared from her skin, her body whining at their absence.

“If you don’t want to do this we can stop.” Steve said, his hazel eyes screaming his earnestness to her. “I told you we can pretend it never even happened if that’s what you want.”

“No! No, I really want to do this… but I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know how to do it.” she said, breathing hard as she watched them both pant, devouring her with hungry eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

“Oh princess, you’re already good at it.” Eddie said with a smirk and she blushed, her self doubts and anxiety beginning to melt away.

“We want you to be sure this is what you want. That it’s your decision, even with the weed and alcohol in play.” Steve told her and neither of the boys were expecting the firm reply she gave.

“I had one beer a few hours ago, I’m not even buzzed. And as for the weed, I’m pretty damn sure I’m in my right mind.” she said and the boys smiled. “So how do we start?”

“Maybe Steve and I should show you what to expect.” Eddie said, turning to look at Steve.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Steve said. “Let’s get her a front row seat.”

Eddie smirked and got off the bed as Steve led her by the hand to sit in the chair that Eddie pulled up next to the bed.

“Don’t be afraid to ask questions.” Eddie said as he and Steve sat back on the bed, facing one another. “It’s an interactive presentation.”

The boys smiled at one another and leaned in, their lips meeting softly at first, then slowly building in intensity. Steve had one hand on Eddie’s cheek, the other on his waist as one of Eddie’s hands came up to cradle the side of Steve’s neck, the other surging downwards. Steve groaned into Eddie’s mouth as his hand found the bulge in his pants, pressing against it firmly. His hand continued to palm Steve’s junk as he began to suck on Steve’s neck with the same ferocity Steve had for hers. Steve’s head fell backwards and he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as Eddie left what would probably be a very large hickey on his neck.

It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Better than the dirty magazines she had found hidden under her mom’s bed, better than any scene in a porno, better than anything she had ever imagined about them. Her hands flew in between her legs, as if the pressure or the friction of rubbing up against her arms could relieve the fire in her loins. It only made it worse. Her eyes flicked to the handcuffs on the wall, considering all the delicious possibilities and when her eyes returned back to the boys, they met Steve’s eyes, smirking at her as Eddie continued his movements on his neck.

“She’s looking at the handcuffs, lover boy.” Steve informed him quietly with a smirk, his gaze never once leaving hers. “Maybe we should show her how they work.”

Eddie pulled back with a wicked smile and a glint in his eye as he looked to her. “A fantastic idea. Take your shirt off and sit against the headboard, big boy.” he ordered, and Steve obeyed.

Before he went to grab handcuffs, Eddie stopped to press a brief but hard kiss onto her lips. “Because you’re being such a good girl watching us. Don’t worry princess, it’s almost your turn.” he said as his hand cupped her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing her mouth teasingly before he returned to the bed.

“Got a safe-word, stud?” Eddie asked.

“Red.” Steve replied before Eddie advanced. 

She could see only Eddie’s back for a moment, hearing the distinct clicks of the handcuffs locking but then he sat back on his haunches and she took in the delicious sight before her. Steve had a hand cuffed to both of the far posts of the headboard, stretching out his arms and putting his well-defined muscles on display. Steve looked at her and although he was the one handcuffed, she was the one who felt tied down by his intense gaze. He smiled at her and she felt her stomach flip once more.

“For my next trick, I’m going to need an audience volunteer.” Eddie announced dramatically before setting his eyes upon her. “How about you princess?”

She nodded and he smiled, reaching over and pulling her chair up against the bed in a swift motion. She was now close enough to touch them and she eyed the pair with anticipation, waiting for Eddie’s next order. 

“Doesn’t he look so pretty? All spread out like this and just itching for us to touch him…” Eddie spoke lowly and she kept her gaze on Steve’s restrained torso. “Go ahead and touch him, princess.”

Hesitantly at first, she reached out towards the top of his chest, near his collarbones and when just the very tip of one finger had grazed his skin, Steve bucked against his chains, holding on to them so hard his knuckles were turning white. His reaction spurned her on, her touches growing more bold by the second as she explored his body.

Her fingers trailed down Steve’s toned chest and through the patch of dark hair she had seen before when they had gone to the pool together. His breath hitched when she slid a fingernail against his nipple, catching it between her fingers and she repeated the movement on both sides a few more times. When he put his head back and groaned, she gave him reprieve, continuing on with a small but pleased smile. She stopped at each of the scars on his chest from previous adventures gone wrong and took an extra moment to skate the tips of her fingertips over the raised skin. 

“So beautiful…” she muttered, not even realizing she had said it aloud until she heard Eddie in her ear.  

“I agree. You’re doing such a good job playing with him but it’s time we stop teasing him and get to the main event, don’t you think?” he said and she nodded. “Unbuckle his pants and get his cock out for me, princess.”

Her hands continued on their journey and finally made it all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. Steve’s breath hitched, his hips bucking slightly when her fingers stopped on the button. She carefully undid it and unzipped his fly, biting her lip as she reached to pull down the waistband of his boxers, letting him spring free. 

She had often wondered what Steve’s dick would look like and she certainly wasn’t disappointed. She hadn’t seen too many dicks in person, mostly just in dirty magazines or the kinds of movies that were hidden behind a curtain in the rental store, but she knew enough to know Steve’s was larger than average, even only at half-mast. Steve had a smug and proud smile on his face and she looked to Eddie to find he was surprised but pleased by Steve’s cock.

“Not bad at all, big boy.” he complimented before leaning into her ear and whispering. “Get him hard for me, princess.”

She leaned over and pressed her lips to the head of his half-erect cock. Steve groaned, instinctively surging forwards before the cuffs pulled him back. She opened her mouth and let drool dribble down to coat his dick in a layer of slick spit. The tip of her tongue darted out and licked a bead of pre-cum off the tip of his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Steve moaned and she smiled, continuing to rile him up by teasing just the head of his cock as his cock got harder and harder.

When he was fully erect, she carefully slid her hand down his length, moving so slowly and holding him so lightly that it was like torture, not allowing him the pleasure of release yet.

“Good girl.” Eddie whispered into her ear, his hand reaching out to guide her own in a few more slow and teasing movements. Steve bucked his hips desperately but Eddie simply pulled his hand and hers away completely. “Looks like he’s ready for me. Sit back and enjoy the show, princess.”

She followed his instructions and moved back to her chair although now she sat on the literal edge, as close to the bed as she could be. Eddie flashed a wicked smile before leaning down and pressing a feather light kiss to the tip of Steve’s cock.

“Fuck, please-” Steve choked out, rattling his chains, desperate for the torture to end. “Please, Eds I-” His plea was answered and cut off as Eddie began to take his length into his mouth.

She couldn’t see specifically what Eddie was doing with his mouth but from the lewd noises Steve was making, it apparently felt very good. Eddie raised his head up and Steve whined at the loss of his warm, wet mouth on his cock.

“Tell her how it feels, Steve.” Eddie ordered, in almost a growl. “Tell her what my mouth on your cock feels like. Tell her how it feels to have your hands cuffed to the bed and to be unable to do anything about it.”

“Fuck, it feels so good.” Steve whimpered, his words getting caught in his throat briefly when Eddie returned to his ministrations, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity like a dagger. “Oh baby, it feels so fucking good. I don’t have to be in control, I just have to trust Eds will take care of me. I love it, fuck, I love it.”

Steve was getting close, it wasn’t hard to tell. His hips bucked as much as Eddie’s hands would allow, the sounds of him pulling on the chains getting louder and more frantic as his cries grew louder too. He was begging Eddie over and over again, chanting “please let me cum, please, please, please Eds.”

“Cum for me, big boy.” Eddie moaned around around his cock and only seconds later Steve was screaming in pleasure as he came.

Eddie kept him there in his mouth, working him through the waves of ecstasy, milking his cock and swallowing every last drop. Steve was panting like he had run a marathon as Eddie pulled himself off of Steve with a wet pop. Steve leaned back against the head board, letting his body relax.

“Good boy.” Eddie purred as he reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, Steve’s arms falling to his side as he looked at her through hooded eyelids.

Eddie crooked a finger to her, beckoning her to join them on the bed. In one swift movement, he removed his shirt, throwing it onto the floor in a ball as her eyes raked over his body. He wasn’t as toned as Steve, he was more lean, and the only hair he had on his chest was a light treasure trail leading down into his pants. She knew that he and Steve had matching scars on their chests but seeing them at the same time only made it more clear just how identical they were. She also knew he had a lot of tattoos, she’d seen the ones on his hands and arms many times but this was the first time she got to see the ones on his chest more than just small bits peeking out of his shirt collar. He was beautiful and the colorful art dotting his skin only made him more attractive. He grinned when he saw her looking at him and let her hand trace the lines of ink for a minute.

“Alright princess…” he said lowly as he pulled her hand from his chest, his firm grip on her wrist. “It’s time to show Stevie how much you liked our little show. Go on and let him find out what it’s like to kiss and touch you. Put on a show for me now.”

She crawled up Steve’s body, his back still leaned against the headboard as she tentatively straddled his hips, hovering over his lap nervously. His hands instantly went to her waist and he pulled her down onto his lap, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. She had made out with people before but never with someone so hungry and deliciously rough. His hands moved her waist to roll a little, grinding his bare cock against her pantied pussy as her skirt rode up once more. The feel of his cock against her core, separated only by the thin fabric layer of her panties caused her to gasp against his lips, a moan quickly being smothered and swallowed by his mouth. Her hands hooked around his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly to earn a few pleased hums. 

“Get that shirt off of her.” Eddie ordered calmly, and she could hear his belt being undone and his jeans being unzipped.

Steve obliged immediately, yanking her blouse above her head and throwing it across the room, so quickly and expertly that his lips barely left hers. Eddie spit into his hand before beginning to stroke himself, a groan slipping out as he moved his fist up and down his length. Steve continued to grind up into her, one hand snaking up her back to undo the clasp of her bra as the other found hold on the back of her head, tangling into her hair.

“I didn’t say to take off the bra, Steve.” Eddie warned and Steve’s hand disappeared from the clasp, making her whine into his mouth as it found purchase on her hip. “Patience, princess.”

Steve’s length dragged against her clit and she felt like she was on fire. She took a hand from around his neck and slipped it behind her, needing to free her aching nipples from their torturous confines. Just as her finger grazed the clasp, Steve’s hand on her hip shot up and grabbed her wrist. His large hand encircled her wrist tightly and held her arm against her back.

“Eddie told you to be patient…” Steve warned, pulling away from her to meet her eyes, a smirk when he saw the desperation in her features. “Don’t be a bad girl. You owe him an apology.”

“I- I’m sorry Eds!” she said quickly, glancing over her shoulder to gaze at him as his hand increased in speed in jerking himself off.

“For?” Steve prompted, applying an infinitesimal amount of pressure on both her wrist and the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry for being a bad girl and not listening!” she cried out, shivering when Eddie laughed darkly.

“It’s alright princess, it’s a learning experience. Just don’t do it again.” he warned, holding her gaze intensely before flickering to meet Steve’s gaze. “How wet is she?”

Steve’s hand released her wrist but stayed on her back, a silent warning not to try unclasping the bra again. Her hand returned to snake around his neck, once more finding and hold on his hair. Steve removed his hand from the back of her neck, dragging it down the valley between her breasts before slipping under her skirt and pushing aside her panties. As his fingers ran against her slick folds, she leaned forwards, burying her head in his neck with a pathetic whine. 

“She’s fucking dripping.” Steve said before nipping teasingly at her ear, her face still nestled in the crook of his neck. “Aren’t you, baby?”

She nodded but this wasn’t good enough for Steve, his hand roughly cupping her pussy, his thumb tantalizingly close to her clit but not close enough to give her the release she sought. 

“I said… aren’t you, baby?” he growled as she cried out in surprise.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please, I need it so bad. Something, anything, please!” she pleaded and was surprised to feel a spurt of warm ropes on her back, Eddie groaning as he came onto her.

“Reward her with a finger, big boy.” Eddie ordered, panting as he came down from his high and within seconds one of Steve’s fingers slipped into her cunt.

Her walls clenched around it, desperate for more as he languidly pushed it in and out, curling it slightly to hit a spot that made her see stars. She vaguely registered Eddie wiping his cum off of her back with a piece of cloth, probably one of his many bandanas. She cried out and arched backwards, thrusting her tits into Steve’s face when suddenly she felt Eddie press his chest against her back. His breath was hot on her ear and she whimpered. 

“Good girl.” he cooed and she keened into his touch as much as she could. “It’s my turn to play too now.”

She couldn’t see it but Eddie held up two fingers with a smirk and Steve grinned wickedly. A second finger penetrated her and she panted as he continued his torturously slow ministrations in and out. Eddie’s hands went to unclasp her bra, finally, and he tossed the offending garment to the side. Cool air teased her heated breasts for only a moment before Eddie’s hands clasped around them firmly. A lewd moan fell from her mouth as his fingers rolled and squeezed, kneading the flesh and teasing her nipples. His hands continued their assault on her breasts as his mouth began on on her neck, deftly finding the spot that made her cry out. 

The sensations were all too much and yet not enough. Steve’s hands in her pussy, Eddie’s on her breasts, their mouths on her lips and neck, but no relief was given to her aching little bud, taunt with need. Steve was purposefully ignoring her clit, succeeding in making her more desperate for him to touch her there with every passing moment. Slowly, she slipped a hand down and was inches away from her fingers brushing against her clit when Eddie’s hands left her breasts and grabbed her wrists, wrenching them behind her back and away from where she wanted them. She whined and could feel Eddie’s smirk against her skin, shifting to whisper into her ear.

“Bad girl. Steve didn’t tell you that you could do that, did he?” Eddie asked lowly and when she didn’t respond, too overcome by the feeling of Steve’s fingers curling inside her, he moved her wrists to one hand, the other snaking around to the front of her neck and applying just a little pleasure, growling “I said, did he, princess?”

“No.” she moaned and his hand disappeared from her neck, moving somewhere behind her. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, she felt something cool against her wrist and a loud clicking noise. She gasped as she realized that Eddie had just cuffed one of her wrists with the handcuffs.

“This alright, princess?” Eddie asked, voice firm in his dominance yet with just the edge of softness as he checked in with her.

“God yes!” she moaned out and Eddie clicked the other cuff onto her other wrist.

“Oh, you like them that much, huh?” Steve asked, feeling her clench around his fingers at the sound of them locking.

“Yes, fuck, I love it.” she cried out, testing her bonds as Eddie let go of her wrists but they held fast.

With her hands trapped uselessly between her back and Eddie’s chest, she had to just feel them playing with her, their hands and mouths all over her body, bringing her closer to the edge but never all the way.

“What a dirty girl… a dirty girl who likes having her hands bound together like some kind of slut.” Eddie taunted and his words touched something deep inside of her.

“Fuck, Eds. She liked when you called her a slut, she squeezed my fucking fingers like a vice.” Steve groaned and Eddie chuckled.

“Give our slut another finger as a reward.” he ordered and Steve obeyed, smirking when she gasped at the stretch of another finger added to her wet, hot cunt.

“God, she feels so good Eds, I can’t even imagine what she would feel like on a cock.” Steve said through grunts as he continued thrusting up into her with his fingers.

“We won’t have to imagine pretty soon, big boy.” Eddie said. “If you’re a good girl and you ride Stevie’s fingers like a cock, Steve will play with that pretty little clit of yours and we’ll let you cum.”

She moaned at the challenge before bucking her hips, intent on riding Steve’s hand like a cowgirl on a bull at a rodeo. She put every bit of effort she could into moving her hips and she was rewarded when Steve placed his thumb on her clit. A few small swirls and she was on the edge, begging the boys to let her cum. Eddie gave her permission and suddenly she was coming, her walls clenching down on Steve’s fingers as she threw her head back onto Eddie’s shoulder and cried out in ecstasy. She continued riding him through the shockwaves of pleasure and felt a little disappointed when it ended. He removed his fingers from her cunt, bringing them to his mouth to taste her cum as she panted.

“She tastes delicious.” Steve said with a smirk that made her shiver before holding out his fingers to Eddie. “Want a taste?”

“Oh I do, but I think I’m gonna get it straight from the source.” Eddie replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are we gonna do with her now, lover boy?” Steve asked him as he brought his fingers to her mouth and slipped them inside for her to taste herself. “All tied up with no where to go, isn’t that right baby?”

She moaned a yes as best as she could with his fingers in her mouth, the taste of her own arousal only heightening the pleasure. The muffled sound went straight to their cocks and Eddie’s face lit up with an idea.

“What would you say to a gag, princess?” Eddie asked and Steve removed his fingers from her mouth. “Be honest if it’s not something you want.”

“What kind of gag?” she asked in anticipation.

“I have a ball gag around here somewhere but if thats too much for your first time we can just do a cloth gag. I have plenty of bandanas.” Eddie answered.

“Can we try the cloth gag?” she asked, her innocent yet intrigued tone making him smile (and making his cock twitch).

“Of course, princess. Steve, can you get her hair out of the way?” Eddie said as he pulled his favorite bandana from his back pocket and although it was phrased as a question, Steve knew it was an order.

“Yes, sir.” Steve said, gently brushing her hair from her neck and pulling it all up with one hand. “Open up, baby.”

She opened her mouth obediently and watched as Eddie slowly placed the bandana between her teeth and pulled the ends together at the back of her neck.

“Is that too tight?” Eddie asked and when she shook her head, he tied the ends off and Steve released her hair, covering it.

“You’re always beautiful but you look even more lovely like this.” Steve told her and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Alright Harrington, we need to huddle up and make a game plan.” Eddie said and she whined as he began to move away. “It’s just for a moment, princess.”

Once Eddie was clear, Steve carefully lifted her off of his lap and laid her down on the bed on her back. His weight disappeared from beside her and she turned her head to the side to see the two of them moving to the far end of the room, Steve tucking himself away. When they reached the far wall, they stopped and leaned into one another, whispering too low for her to hear, especially with the music still playing quietly and them so far from her. She watched them, both shirtless with only their jeans still on, a sight that made her press her legs together in need, despite having just orgasmed.

After what felt like an eternity of planning, they returned to the side of the bed, smirking down at her with her hands tied underneath her in only her skirt and panties and a bandana gagging her. Steve reached down and stroked the side of her face, chuckling when she leaned into his touch.

“Are you ready for the next part of the show?” he asked and she nodded vigorously. “Good girl.”

Eddie pulled her upper half off of the bed and held her up as Steve took his place sitting against the headboard again, taking his pants off so that he was only in his boxers. Steve pulled her from Eddie’s arms and nestled her to sit between his legs, leaning back on his chest. The way they handled her so nonchalantly yet still careful, like she was a precious doll, reignited the fire in her core. Eddie took off his pants to reveal his briefs before kneeling on the bed in front of her. He reached around and un-cuffed one of her wrists before pulling them both up over her head, re-cuffing them so her hands were bound behind his neck, stretching her out.

“Don’t pull on these too hard or you’ll hurt Stevie, alright princess?” Eddie asked and she nodded.

Steve lifted her hips up as Eddie pulled off the skirt and panties, leaving her completely naked, all of her bare for their hungry eyes. Eddie spread her legs and groaned at the sight of her pussy laid bare before him. Putting her head down in embarrassment as her cheeks heated, she tried to close her legs but was stopped by Eddie’s hands keeping her thighs spread.

“Are you shy, princess?” Eddie cooed and she nodded. 

“Do you want us to stop?” Steve asked and she shook her head. “Can you knock on the wall behind us?” She answered with a few knocks on the wall. “If you want us to stop, knock on the wall in groups of three, alright?” She nodded.

“You’re so beautiful.” Eddie told her, fingers stroking her wet folds delicately.

She shifted against Steve’s chest and whined, trying once more to close her legs. Eddie gave a light smack to her inner thigh.

“Bad girl! Am I going to have to tie your ankles to my bedposts to get you to stay put?” he scolded and she looked away in embarrassment. “Oh that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you want. Usually I wouldn’t reward bad behavior but this is a special circumstance.”

Eddie leaned over to a dresser drawer and pulled out two lengths of black rope. Carefully, he lifted one of her feet and tied the silky rope around her ankle. He pressed a light kiss to her calf before pulling her leg down to lay straight on the bed sheets between Steve’s spread legs. As Eddie secured the rope to the bed post and moved to repeat his actions with her other leg, Steve began to lazily drag his fingers across her breasts. He let his nails lightly rake on her nipples, teasing her in the same way she had teased him. She gasped through the gag and squirmed in his arms as he continued his ministrations. His lips moved to her ears and she shivered when she felt his hot breath against her skin.

“What, baby? You don’t like it when you get a taste of your own medicine?” He murmured in a low growl and she could practically hear his smirk. “Guess you can dish it out but can’t take it.”

Eddie finished her other leg and sat back on his haunches to admire his work, Steve stopping his teasing so she would be still for him. Her glistening cunt was laid bare before him and his eyes shone with excitement. Her cheeks heated under his attentive gaze and she averted her eyes away in embarrassment. She felt completely exposed with her legs spread wide open and the silky rope that wouldn’t relent to her tugging, she couldn’t close her legs to staunch the self-doubts that began to pop up. Eddie and Steve were far more experienced than her and had probably seen far prettier girls’ bodies. Every imperfection of her physique suddenly felt mortifyingly unattractive and for a moment she considered tapping out so she could throw on her clothes and run away in shame. She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes as she imagined how hideous she must look to them, every curve, line, and mark mocking her in her head. Suddenly she felt Eddie’s hand on her cheek, gently pulling her attention back to him.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop? There’s no shame in that, princess.” He said softly and her heart flipped at his earnestness. 

She shook her head. 

“Are you feeling self-conscious?” He asked, Steve’s fingers trailing comforting circles on her sides.

She nodded, eyes shimmering with vulnerability.

“Oh princess, you have nothing to be self-conscious about. You’re fucking stunning. I’ve never seen anyone who looks so beautiful naked as you, except for perhaps Steve.” Eddie assured her and she smiled, tears of comfort and joy pooling in her eyes as Steve chuckled behind her. 

“I’ve been wondering what you would look like without clothes forever and never in my wildest dreams did I even come close to how gorgeous you are right now.” Steve said in her ear and she craned her neck up to look at him, admiration shining in his eyes. “So just lay back and let us worship you the way you deserve.”

As soon as he finished speaking, her attention was drawn back to Eddie gently stroking her folds with skilled fingers covered in those god-damned rings of his. He teased her for a minute or two, simply admiring her pussy as he hummed some rock song, paying no attention to her squirming or mewling. Her handcuffed hands right at the back of Steve’s neck grasped onto his hair and tugged on it in pure anticipation, needing to feel grounded to him as Eddie inspected her. When Eddie felt he had admired her cunt properly, he dove in and began to eat her out. She gasped out through the gag in relief and felt Steve’s chest rumble with a chuckle behind her, his hands roaming her skin until they found purchase teasing her breasts deliciously.

“Thought I wouldn’t get you back for that, did you?” He whispered in her ear and she keened, lost in the sensations caused by both boys. “Think you can tug my hair and play with my nipples and I won’t take advantage when I get the chance? Eddie may be in charge of the both of us tonight but right now, I’m in charge of you, baby.”

It didn’t take long for her to reach her second orgasm, not with Eddie’s lips on hers and his tongue coaxing her to the edge as Steve played with her tits like a violin and whispered dirty things into her ear. She came hard as Eddie looked up at her, grinning like a mischievous devil from between her thighs.

“Good girl.” Steve cooed in her ear as she rode out her pleasure, breathing hard through the gag until Steve removed it, tilted her chin up towards him and captured her mouth in a breathless kiss.

“Ready for the finale?” Eddie asked, pressing soft kisses to the inside of the thighs.

“So ready!” She replied with a wide smile.

A blur of movement later and her restraints were removed, Steve helping her stretch out her limbs as Eddie grabbed condoms and lube.

“Get on your knees.” Eddie ordered and she complied as the boys removed their underwear and she saw that they both had long cocks almost the same size except that Eddie’s was a smidge girthier. 

“How do you wanna do this, baby?” Steve asked her, stroking his gorgeous cock. “Where do you want us?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to do anal, at least not yet, but I don’t have a preference for who goes where.” She replied, gazing hungrily at them.

“Dealer’s choice, then.” Eddie said with a smirk. “Steve, you’ve been such a good boy tonight following my instructions, I think you deserve to pick.”

“I want her pussy.” Steve said, smiling when she blushed and shivered under his intense gaze.

“Are you still sure you want this?” Eddie asked her as he passed a condom to Steve, who began to put it on. 

“I’m sure, damn it! Just fuck me before I lose my mind!” She said before realizing herself an adding as an afterthought “…please.”

“Mouthy girl, such a brat.” Steve commented and Eddie chuckled as he stepped towards her, gently gripping her chin to look up at him

“Normally, I’d punish an attitude like that but you’ve been so good for us tonight and it’s a special occasion so I’m going to overlook it… for now.” He said, a dark and sexy look in his eyes as she nodded. “Hands and knees for the big finish, princess.”

She got into position as Eddie moved in front of her and Steve behind her, groaning when she wiggled her ass a little.

“Spank her if she does that again.” Eddie said, tapping her lips with his cock until she opened them and he slipped in.

She was so distracted by Eddie’s cock in her mouth that she almost forgot Steve was lining himself up until he slid into her wet cunt. Eddie chuckled when she moaned around his cock. It only took a few moments until they began to move, quickly setting a deliciously brutal pace. The boys were seemingly naturals at it and for a moment she wondered if they had ever actually shared a partner before with how practiced they seemed to be at anticipating one anothers moves. She-d never been fucked so fast and rough, bouncing between their cocks in a rhythm that made her feel better then she ever had before.

“Fuck, princess, suck just like that!” Eddie exclaimed, his fist wound around some of her hair just enough to be felt but not hard enough to hurt.

“You feel so good, baby.” Steve moaned, throwing his head back as his hands gripped her hips tighter allowing him to thrust into her even deeper. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You don’t come until she does so if you want it, you’d better help her along.” Eddie commanded and Steve moved one hand off of her hips and snaked it between her legs.

His fingertips quickly found her clit and it wasn’t long before she was clenching onto his cock with a loud moan as she came.

Steve and Eddie’s hands were the only things keeping her up, her body feeling like jelly as her orgasm hit. Eddie unraveled next, shooting his load into her throat and coaxing her through swallowing it.

“Good girl.” He panted and she felt her pussy clench around Steve’s cock, those two little words inadvertently causing her to help bring Steve to orgasm.

“Fuck, baby!” Steve groaned, his hips stilling against hers as he rode out his high, her pussy clenching around his as if to help milk every last drop.

They all stayed there for a moment, the boys catching their breath. Eddie was the first to pull out, wiping droplets of cum from around her mouth as she slumped forwards and he led her down to lay on the bed. She groaned as Steve carefully removed himself, disposing of the condom before helping her place her head on the pillow. 

Very sated from orgasming three times in one night, she reached out and latched onto Steve, needing physical contact. She heard Eddie murmur something to Steve about caring for her but she couldn’t comprehend his words with how euphoric she felt. Steve laid down with her and held her, stroking her hair and whispering about how well she did while Eddie helped clean her up. Even in her haze, she felt something was missing.

“Stevie, I want Eds too…” She whined into Steve’s chest.

“You heard her, get over here.” Steve said, pulling both himself and her towards the edge of the bed to make room for him.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.” Eddie replied, settling in on the other side of her.

“My boys…” She sighed contentedly, drifting off to sleep from her post-orgasmic haze nestled snugly between Steve and Eddie’s bodies.

She awoke the next morning with her head on Eddie’s chest and Steve spooning her, his arm draped around her waist and his hand on Eddie. She smiled, feeling truly happy there with her boys.

“Morning princess.” Eddie said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Morning Eds.” She said, unable to contain her smile.

“I take it you had a good time last night.” He commented with a smirk.

“I did.” She said simply, gathering the courage to ask the question on her mind. “Eds… do you think you and Stevie would be alright with doing it again sometime? I don’t want you to think I’m indecisive or selfish, I just really like both of you. A lot.”

“Steve and I were talking about it last night after you passed out and we came to the conclusion that we’re both so head over heels for you that we’re willing to share if that’s what you want.” Eddie said and she felt like a weight was lifted off her chest. “Besides, Steve and I may have something deeper than just competition going on, we’ve just been too distracted to see it for what it was.”

“So, the three of us against the world?” She asked.

“Always, princess.” Eddie replied, pulling the comforter up to cover the three of them more fully and placing a kiss on the top of her forehead.

They were almost back asleep when the door swung open, revealing a very sleepy and apparently hungover Robin who looked very surprised to see them. Her eyes went wide with realization and shock at Eddie and Y/N, not even noticing Steve as he was covered by the comforter.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I thought this was the bathroom door!” Robin exclaimed, shielding her eyes before adding with a huge grin “...but also this is fantastic, Dustin owes me so much money!” 

With impeccable timing, Steve raised his head from behind Y/N’s body and sleepily said “I don’t think you’ll be making any money today.”

“I just learned way more about your love life than I ever needed or wanted too and now none of us are winning the bet.” Robin replied, a mix of shock and disappointment on her face as she turned to leave. “I’m going to go bleach my eyes… and my brain.”

She slammed the door behind her and all three inhabitants of the bed began to laugh. They sunk into a comfortable silence, content with each other’s quiet company.

“Robin was wrong.” Y/N said assuredly.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed in confusion.

“She said no one won the bet. But she’s wrong, the three of us won it.” She replied and Steve laughed.

“I agree, princess.” Eddie added with a fond smile, holding his two lovers close to him.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Perv!Charlie Walker headcanons

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warning : perverted behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, obsession, nothing graphical, mention of nudeness, clueless reader, obsessed love

second part , third part, fourth part

masterlist

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°It all started when you switched to his history class. When you came in and chose a seat diagonally opposite to him. You hadn't noticed his presence when you entered. But his gaze fixed on you the whole class. You were perfect. More perfect than Kirby could ever have been.

°My beautiful victim he thought as he walked past her, trying to catch a glimpse of her scent. You smelled so sweet and innocent. He would make her his Sydney. Keep her forever.

°A few weeks passed and his obsession with her grew from day to day. Every day he tried to talk to you as often as he could. No matter if it was the little talks during the break. Trivial or not, it was all the same. Your affection was enough for him. He just needed to have you with him. Just for him.

°He could hardly believe his luck when one day you asked him if you could come to the film club.

°Of course he immediately agreed and couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks when you pulled him into a thankful hug. You are so soft and warm...she's everything he thought as his arms wrapped around your body. It was only a moment but it meant so much more to him.

°The weeks went by and besides the activities at the club he helped her with her homework almost every day. Acting a little foolish with his own, knowing that you would help him. That you would pull him into the library and the two of you would sit together at the table next to each other. Yet you didn't see the look in his blue eyes. But he saw her and his heart beat with happiness every time you pulled him here by the wrist. She likes me he thought delightedly and continued to watch you.

°Soon he would find a way to get to know you even better. To see you whenever he wanted. To record you in his camera. Just for himself.

°It was the last lunch break before the weekend when he approached her. A smile played around his lips as she waved at him. A simple plan but it would do. ,,Hey, I was wondering if you would like to work together on the history presentation?" he asked and immediately saw her nod. ,,Of course I would love to, how about tomorrow afternoon, my parents are at work so we can relax" she suggested and there was joy in her eyes as she almost proudly told him about the free house. ,,Cool, see you tomorrow," he said, knowing that you would already have him in your house forever.

°As soon as he was in your house the next day his heart beat faster with joy. It was your house, your home, just you and him. He looked at your shape as you walked up the stairs in front of him and showed him your room. ,,You have good taste," he commented and smiled. You couldn't have been more perfect. Several horror movie posters and fantasy books were on the wall. Some he had read and watched himself. She's perfect for me he thought, letting his fingers roam over some of the books and posters.

°Everything here seemed to reflect you as if he could see and understand you so indirectly. He could touch you. He heard you say that you would fetch something to drink from the cellar. He just nodded before waiting for the door to close. His smile widened, his gaze determined as he pulled out of his backpack the many small cameras. They were not cheap, but for you, anything was enough. He quickly thought of the right places and set up the cameras. Before he saw on his mobile phone that he could see the whole room.

°He listened, but you were still searching in the basement. Before his gaze fell on your dresser with clothes inside. A blush crept into his cheeks. He knew he was close to being caught. But he wanted to finally possess something of you. To finally have you. Just a small part. Carefully he opened one of the many drawers. Your clothes came out, with the same engaging smell. It's almost like she's embracing me, he thought with a sigh as he reached for one of your t-shirts and stuffed it into his backpack.

°Then his eyes caught a pair of black folded panties with black lace. His cheeks grew even darker. His fantasy of what you would look like in them began to come together in his head. She's only wearing it for me he thought and a furtive smile crept onto his lips. It smelled just like you. Hastily he stuffed the garment into his backpack before the door to your room opened only a moment later.

°The remaining hours he was full of enthusiasm and admiration. He enjoyed the contact, touched you as often as he could and finally wanted to have you for himself. Only when you said goodbye to him in the evening did he practically run home. Connecting his mobile phone to his computer and opening the programme, he finally saw your room.

°You had already gone back to your bedroom and had just closed the curtains to your window when you started to undress. ,,So beautiful," he murmured and zoomed in with the camera. He saw you take off your pullover and fold it carefully. He saw your torso, saw the dark red bra with black lace that nestled comfortably against your breasts. His heart beat faster, you were so unbelievably captivating. He saw her take off her trousers and put them with the pullover. A matching pair of panties in the same colour showed itself to him. They clung to your hips and your body.

°He thought you were going to bed when you turned to one of the cameras. For a moment he was afraid that you had seen him. Instead you walked to your full body mirror and took off your bra. For a split moment, all thought was gone from his mind. Before he felt the slight tug at his centre. He could see your naked breasts and you seemed to almost present yourself to him as you looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Before she finally went to her bed and lay down under the covers. It turned him on, nervous and crazy for you, knowing that you slept only in your underwear.

°For him, for his image of you, you seemed to long for him. Seeming to wait for him. Loving him too. He continued to watch you through the hours. Taking in every bit of your features that he saw and loving you more and more. ,,Charlie" he heard you murmur as you moved slightly and seemed to almost hug the blanket. She's dreaming of me, the brown-haired man realised, and at that moment he would have loved to look inside your head.

°But for him it was just another proof. Another proof that maybe he should slip into your room tonight. Into you. Not just watch you anymore. Finally kiss you and finally have you to himself. Not kill you no you were better than Sydney he would keep you with him. You loved him as much as he loved you, he just knew it. But in the end you would have no choice. For no matter how much time passed he would always be watching you. Because love would always find its way. Willingly or not.

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