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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

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Part Two of Class of '85.

June 6th, 1985

1. Make Sure Eddie Lives

Convince Wayne to move away? (how??)

Befriend Eddie sooner? (tried and failed)

Graduate Early?

2. Save Max

Stop Billy on Fourth July. Save Billy? Does he deserve it?

3. Help El With Powers. How?

Save Hopper? How to learn location of Russian prison if saved?

4. Convince Everyone To Move Out of Hawkins

That's all that's written on this slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Eddie hadn't even meant to read it; when he'd shaken out the grey sweatpants it had fluttered free, slowly falling to the ground, and when he picked it up to put it back in the drawer he caught his name. And he's always been far too curious.

Eddie knows as soon as he's read it that he absolutely shouldn't have. It's too late though. He's read it, he knows now, and he can't really unknow it.

This is the list of things Steve is trying to change in this timeline.

It knocks the air out of Eddie and his knees feel a little weak suddenly. He drops himself to the floor, one hand clutching the sweats, the other the note.

Make sure Eddie lives.

Eddie lives.

Which implies that Eddie died.

Eddie's not sure what that says about him, that he's never made the connection of Steve's soft I can't lose you confessions and that he might mean Eddie is dead, and not, like, having fled Hawkins before Steve could confess his lo-feelings or something.

He's never really taken the time to stew in what Steve meant because as far as Eddie was concerned, there was no losing him. Steve's already changed the way Eddie's life plays out; he's graduated a year sooner than he did in that other timeline. He's got a part time job at the local mechanics. And though he doesn't know details, he does know that still being in high school led him to the event Steve wanted to change.

Which was his death.

He takes several deep breaths. He's not going to die because Steve's already saved him so he can deal with this. It's not even an issue.

Moving past that. Save Max. There's no last name written, but both he and Steve know only one Max. Then the line below that. They both hate Billy, yes, but what's throwing Eddie off here is the written, then stricken out, does he deserve it? The use of save gives him pause, too. It says Make sure Eddie lives and save Max. So, Max doesn't die? What does she need saved from then?

This is when Steve finds him, entering the room with a, "Did you get lost, Eds? It's the top dra- oh," Steve is stopped two steps into the room when Eddie looks up at him.

"I didn't mean to read it but I saw my name and..." Eddie says, trailing off because he doesn't actually have anything to add. He's worried for a second that Steve will be mad at him but that thought goes as quickly as it appeared. Steve moves into the room, dropping to his knees before Eddie, hands coming to cup his face.

"Oh, babe," Steve's voice is gentle, his thumbs even more so as they swipe across his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Eddie should be the one apologizing. He's done the one thing he wasn't suppose to. He's read the list! He knows the future! (sorta) "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have read this."

Steve makes his I-want-to-argue face but it smooths over. The tone in Steve's voice when he speaks, sounding older than his years and so fucking tired, it break Eddie's heart. "I should have burned that. This isn't your burden to shoulder. I'll just take that and you can try and forget."

He's reaching for the paper and Eddie pulls his hand behind his back, away from Steve's grasp. "No."

"No?" Steve looks surprised. Honestly, Eddie's also surprised.

"You don't have to shoulder this alone," Eddie says, "I can help. We can fix this together."

It's strange to see hope mixed with sorrow in Steve's eyes. "I can't- there's so much I don't even understand, don't even know how to explain."

"Sweetheart, let me help," Eddie whispers, shifting to his knees to easily slide into Steve's space, press soft kisses to his face between his words," I (kiss) want to (kiss) help (kiss). Let me (kiss)."

On the last kiss Steve angles his face, capturing Eddie's lips with his own, his hands still on Eddie's face allowing him to hold Eddie steady as he presses in, deepens the kiss, runs his tongue along Eddie's lip and Eddie flicks his own tongue out in return. They kiss in an odd, calm-but-desperate, deep-but-lazy, soft-but-messy way. They end it panting, foreheads pressed together to feel grounded, Steve's hands still on Eddie's face, Eddie's hands braced on Steve's thighs as he leans into him.

"Once you know, you can't unknow. It's fucking terrible, Eds," Steve whispers, "I don't want to do that to you. I don't want you to hurt."

"But you hurt," Eddie counters, "and if you hurt, I hurt. Thems the rules."

Steve laughs and kisses him again, just a quick closed lip peck, "Dustin told me once, you die, I die. Mutual destruction really shouldn't be the first go-to for showing affection for the people I care about it."

"Says the man whose favorite way to show affection is stepping between someone and a fist, or claw, or whatever."

Steve rolls his eyes and pulls back. "Weren't you going to shower?"

"Plans change. We gotta finish arguing about you telling me about this," he waves the paper, now even more crumpled, between the two of them, "so that you can let me help."

"How about you take that shower, and meanwhile, I'll cook dinner and think about finishing this 'argument' you want to have," Steve says, and even though Steve doesn't physically make the air quotes motion, Eddie still hears it in his voice.

Eddie concedes on this, though, and after stealing a soft shirt from Steve's closet, does go shower. When he's done, he takes his time detangling his hair and towel drying it as much as he can before changing into the pilfered clothing and going down to dinner. Steve is washing up the dishes he used while cooking (because this fucker cleans as he goes, what kinda sicko does that?) so, Eddie gathers plates and utensils and sets the table (because they're the kinda sickos that eat at a dinner table) .

Dinner is pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It's delicious.

They just chat about the day under the silent agreement that serious conversations were for after dinner. Eddie packages up leftovers and wipes down the counters while Steve finishes dishes and Jesus Christ when did they become so normal and adult?

Well, Steve's been an adult for a while, technically, but also, he's still just barely 18 and that's just- Eddie tries not to think about it too much, the difference between Steve's age in relation to the amount of time it's been since he was born, but also since he was forced? chosen? made to? relive 3 years of his life again.

"Alright Stevie," Eddie says, crawling into his lap on the couch, his legs bracketing Steve's, pulling Steve into him, Steve's head on his chest and his head resting atop Steve's, a mirror of their first interaction, at that party that feels so long ago and also just like yesterday, "I do have a question about your list that I feel is safe to ask and for you to answer."

"Hmm?" Steve hums back, arms wrapping around Eddie as Steve nuzzles against him.

"Befriend me got crossed out, so getting me to graduate early was the option you seemed to be going with. Obviously, befriending me ended up working. So, how in the hell did you plan to make me graduate early if we weren't friends?"

Steve snorts a laugh and says, "you're gonna laugh at me."

"Of course, I am. Tell me anyway."

"I was going to attempt doing your homework and turning it in on your behalf. I even practiced making my handwriting look different."

Eddie does laugh at him, so much that his sides start to hurt, and he would have fallen off of the couch if Steve wasn't holding him so tightly.

Then Steve has the fucking nerve to say, without the slightest hint of embarrassment, "told ya you'd laugh at me."

Well, Eddie's got no choice but to take Steve's face in his hands and kiss him senseless after that.

"Can you tell me what you mean by save Max?" Eddie asks when the kissing is done and the mood changes to serious again.

"Eds-"

"No, listen. I was thinking in the shower and like, I'm not going to get all philosophical on you, but I do think you can tell me, and we can figure out things together, maybe, and I won't interfere or do anything to, like, jeopardize the timeline. Just listen and troubleshoot."

Steve pulls back from their cuddling to eye Eddie skeptically. "I don't believe any of that for a second."

"Yeah," Eddie sighs, sagging forward to rest against Steve as he leans back against the couch now, "I just- I want to save Max, too. Let me help."

"It should have been someone else."

Eddie hears the cut off sob, presses himself down like a weight blanket, "someone else?"

"To get the second chance, the do over," Steve says, voice wet and pained, "it should have been someone else. Someone who-who remembers shit, and actually knows things. Someone smarter. I'm so afraid that I'm going to fuck this up. But then I feel like shit for wishing this was someone else's problem instead of mine."

"But it wasn't someone else," Eddie says, "it was you." Then he waits for Steve to collect himself and speak.

"The Party, they think I shouldn't tell anyone," Steve presses a kiss to the top of Eddie's head that he hears more than feels, "if I change too much, I could end up fucking up a thing that has to happen for us to win. I shouldn't tell people, or warn them, because if they make decisions based on knowledge they shouldn't have? That could get someone killed."

"So tell someone not involved. Or someone who isn't involved yet. Someone not around during the events. Then none of you are making decisions you wouldn't have already been making, but someone behind the scenes can change things. Maybe even last minute?"

That seems to give Steve pause. Eddie wants to pull back to look at him, his thinking face is adorable, but instead he shoves his face into Steve's neck and just breathes him in.

"That- I hadn't even thought of..." Steve kisses Eddie's temple, "Eddie, baby, you're a fucking genius."

"I know but it's great to have it acknowledged."

"Alright, off, I've gotta make a phone call before it gets too late," Steve says, shoving at Eddie. Eddie goes willingly, rolling a full 360 off Steve's lap so he's kneeling on the couch, elbows resting on the back of it. His eyes stay on Steve, though, tracking him as he stands, adjusts his shirt as if anyone but Eddie can see him now, before moving to the phone. It's not mounted to the wall in the living room, just sat on its own table in a corner, chair nearby.

If Eddie's gaze drifts down to Steve's butt while his back is turned, dialing whoever he's calling, well, Eddie's got no shame in that. He's allowed to look.

"Hi Hopper, it's Steve. I need you to get Dr Owens to get a hold of me. I know you have a way. No- you've got to- ok. No. Yes, this is important. Something- there is something else coming. We're not in the clear yet. No! You know I cannot tell you that. We all agreed that I wouldn't tell you anything! Hop- Hop- HOPPER. I promise, I swear on my life, El will be fine. She'll be okay. I... I just need to talk to Dr Owens. Thank you. Have him call on a Tuesday, I'm always off on Tuesdays."

Eddie listens in on the whole conversation, because if it was meant to be private, Steve would have used the kitchen phone, or the one in his room. Rich people have more than one phone, Eddie's learned. Excessive. "Sounds like it went well?"

Steve wrinkles his face in a grimace. "It's still weird as fuck. They know I'm not lying about the future thing. Not when- ever since-"

Steve can't say it again, but Eddie knows what he's talking about.

Bob Newby.

Steve blames himself hard for him. With whatever happened before Steve's time travel shit -the thing that was so bad something answered Steve's prayers and wishes to change it- Steve hadn't even been thinking about Bob. It wasn't until Steve saw Bob at the Hawkins Lab that he remembered the outcome.

He'd tried to change it, to save Bob, but in doing so he'd just endangered himself more and then Bob's death, his sacrifice, had been in protecting Steve instead of the surprise attack that had apparently been what took him last time.

Steve still can't look Joyce in the face, much less meet her eye.

Eddie hates that there's nothing he can say to alleviate this guilt from Steve. He's tried but Steve... Eddie won't even forget how his voice cracked when he said 'I knew he was going to die! I knew it, should have remembered it, but instead of someone without several concussions and memory issues getting a second chance, it's me! The fuck up! I didn't remember Bob and now, this time, it's my fault he's dead.' And Eddie didn't have the words to make it better.

Still doesn't.

"So, he's going to have the Owens dude call?"

"He's going to try," Steve says, "but can't promise. So, we'll see."

June 24th, 1985

Steve is in the bathroom when it happens. The phone rings, and Eddie's in the kitchen, so he picks it up, and says, "Harrington residence."

"Is this Steve Harrington?"

"Uh, no, but if we just wait a moment he'll be available soon."

The voice on the other end hums, "I do have a time limit to this call."

What an odd thing to say- oh. Oh shit. "Dr Owens?"

There is silence on the other end and Eddie's afraid he's fucked this up for Steve until he hears, "and just what else has Steve Harrington told you?"

Eddie's got a choice to make now. He can lie, or he can tell the truth. Both options have consequences, he thinks, but Eddie knows what he wants to outcome to be, so he moves to get line of sight on the hallway Steve should soon be appearing from and says, "Just listen, please. I don't know nearly enough but I want to help. I can help. Listen to what Steve has to tell you, and fucking believe him. If you think I can help with anything after that, call again on Saturday. Between ten and two."

"I'll listen," is the only response he gets, and they sit on the line for what feels like an eternity before Steve comes into view. Eddie shouts his name into the receiver, feeling bad about that only after Steve's taken the phone and Eddie has retreated to the backyard, both to smoke and to give Steve privacy.

Steve is on the phone for almost four full hours. Thirty minutes into the call, Eddie suggests he take the call to his room, so he can at least sit down. Steve agrees and hands the phone to Eddie, who listens for the confirmation that Steve has picked up the upstairs phone before he hangs up the downstairs one.

As much as he wants to eavesdrop, he wants Steve's trust more. Steve is trusting Owens, and if Owens decides it, he'll get ahold of Eddie. If there's nothing Eddie can do to help, then he'll just have to be here for whatever the aftermath is.

June 29th, 1985

To say that Eddie is shocked that when he answers the phone on Saturday and it's actually Dr Owens on the other line would be an understatement. He knows he offered, and he hoped, but no amount of hope makes something happen.

"Your juvenile record leaves a lot to be desired, Edward Munson," Dr Owens says in leu of any other greeting when Eddie picks up with the usual 'Harrington residence'. Eddie doesn't like that the government wasted no time digging into him. He really doesn't like that Dr Owens know his name. "I am not one to hold someone to past mistakes. You wanted to help, and reluctant though I am to admit it, there is something you can do."

"Anything."

"Alright. What you need to do is be at the Fourth of July carnival, on the lookout for Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper. They'll get there later in the day, but I don't have an exact time for you. As soon as you've found them, tell them to go to Starcourt Mall because that's where the kids are. Then you go home."

Eddie wants to know why he can't come with them to the mall but knows better than to do that. "Okay, I can do that."

"I hate to be the one to remind you, but lives are at stake here. Do what I've told you and nothing else."

"I know."

"And..." Eddie can hear the hesitation in his voice, "and just know you might not see some people you are used to seeing in the days leading up to the Fourth. Don't go looking for them."

Jesus H Christ. How is Eddie supposed to not do that? How is he supposed to be okay with people being missing? He must take too long to confirm because Dr Owens speaks again.

"Edward. I promise you, they will all make it through this."

"Okay."

Hanging up with phone feels very final. He doesn't like that Dr Owens didn't assure him of their physical safety. Didn't say they'd be okay. Or that they'd be unscathed. It was basically the nicest way the guy could have said no one you care for dies this time.

July 4th, 1985

Eddie spends all day at the damn carnival. He posts up around noon, which is probably way too early but he's not going to fuck this up. He hasn't seen Steve in two days and he's trying not to freak out. Dr Owens said they'd all live but fuck, in what condition? Eddie doesn't know what's happening, what was supposed to have happened without Dr Owens involved, and hates that he doesn't know how these changes Dr Owens are making to the timeline will effect Steve.

In the other timeline he knows that Steve lives, at least. This time...

The sky starts to darken when a Cadillac pulls up hot and going much faster than it should be, flying past Eddie's van to find parking closer to the entrance of the carnival. It could just be some drunks excited to ride a Ferris Wheel but Eddie's going to investigate.

Eddie recognizes Hopper instantly, the unfortunate side effect of being with Steve. The Chief of Police has become a common occurrence, with Steve inviting everyone over for pool parties, or them being invited to the Byer's for Barbeques.

"Hopper! Joyce!" Eddie yells, getting their attention before they've made it past the last row of cars to the entrance.

"Eddie! Thank God!" Joyce rushes to him, Hopper hot on her heels, along with two people he doesn't recognize. "Where are the kids?"

"Starcourt Mall," Eddie says, "you have to get to Starcourt Mall as soon as you can."

Hopper looks back to the Cadillac, then to Eddie's van. "Everyone in the van."

"Oh, I'm not supposed to-"

"Van. Now."

Eddie scrambles into the driver's seat, buckling up as Hopper ushers the strangers and Joyce in before pulling the doors closed behind him. "Get a move on it, kid!"

Eddie starts the van and guns it. It'll be fine. He'll drop them off and then go home and wait. Like he's supposed to.

Except that doesn't happen. Hopper orders him to drop them off near the entrance, then park in a far back corner and wait. And how can Eddie argue with the Chief of Police?

It does give Eddie a view he never thought he'd see outside of horror movies. About an hour passes before another car pulls into the parking lot, stationing itself facing the mall, and the Wheeler's car still parked along the curb. The headlights on the car go out, and just as Eddie is leaning forward to try and get a better look at the car, something climbs atop the mall, pulling his attention from the car and holy shit what the fuck is that thing.

Eddie clamps both his hands over his mouth to stop from screaming. Then that thing drops into the mall and someone steps out of the car. The person makes it three steps from their car before what looks like the entire US military floods out the entrance of Starcourt, and several military vehicles come barreling around the mall, probably from the employee parking area.

Then there's a knock on Eddie's window and he's fairly certain he almost pisses himself in fear. He whips his head around to look and he just sees some older guy frowning at him.

"Edward," the man's voice is slightly raised but familar, "I believe I told you to go home."

"Holy shit!" Eddie unlocks his door and shoves it open, forcing Dr Owens to step back. Eddie goes to climb out but his seatbelt chokes him because he forgot he was still buckled in. He unbuckles but Dr Owens has moved back into his space, keeping him in his van.

"I'm Sam Owens," he finally, officially, introduces himself. "Care to explain?"

"Hopper made me do it."

Dr Owens doesn't even look surprised. He looks away from Eddie now, towards the flurry of movement happening around the mall. Eddie's eyes follow and he watches as Billy Hargrove, who he can now make out thanks to the spotlights from the fucking helicopters, gets tackled by two men twice his size.

"You're going to save him, right?" Eddie asks.

At that, Dr Owens does look surprised. "We're going to try."

He thinks of Steve's note. Save Max. Save Billy. "You better succeed."

Dr Owens looks like he agrees. He also lets Eddie stay. Make him sit in his car like he's in time out, and it feels like forever, but as soon as everyone Eddie's come to care about comes out the front door, Dr Owens tells Eddie to follow him, and they go join the group.

Steve looks beat to shit and Eddie runs to him, pulling himself back before he can fling himself at Steve and pull him into his arms.

"Jesus, Stevie!" Eddie says, taking in his puffy eye and split lip, and he can't stop the hand that reaches out to touch even though he absolutely should not be reaching for him in public- Steve slams into him, tucking his face into Eddie's neck. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Steve, starts whispering, "I've got you. I'm here and I've got you."

Steve finally pulls back when Joyce approaches, "Steve, let the paramedic look at you."

Steve steps back then but doesn't put distance between them. It reminds Eddie of what he said at graduation. 'I'm not afraid of a single person in this town'. Eddie wishes he wasn't afraid, either.

"Come with me?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, and follows.

They wait while Robin Buckley gets looked over, then it's Steve's turn. Robin takes Steve's place beside Eddie and they watch as Steve is examined. Eddie sees Robin giving him sideways glances, like she's afraid to fully look at Eddie, which is... something.

Once Steve is freed from the medic he steps up on Eddie's other side, the one Robin isn't stationed at, and says, "I need to talk to Owens before we can leave."

"Oh, uh, I'm kind of the Byers' and Hopper's ride. And the weird dudes they came with. They don't speak English."

Steve barks out a laugh at that. "Murray speaks English. And hooboy did we have to hear it from him. He doesn't trust the government."

Eddie doesn't know which of them was Murray, but he agrees. He gestures towards the mall, which some people seem to actively throwing gasoline on in an attempt to burn it faster? Eddie doesn't know. "Well, can't say I trust 'em either if this is the result."

"This is the Russian government's fault," Robin says.

"Oh, no, the Russians wouldn't be this kind of particular problem without our government," Steve says.

Robin just blinks at him. "Are we... still drugged?"

"You were drugged!?" Eddie whips around to Steve.

"Truth serum," Steve nods then seems to realize how quickly he said that and frowns. "It's taking longer to wear off. Or maybe this whole issue was resolved sooner than last time?"

"Shhhh!" Eddie shushes him with a hand on his mouth, looking frantically at Robin to see if she caught was Steve just said. "Stevie. Do not talk anymore tonight."

Steve licks his palm.

July 13th, 1985

It's an uncomfortable gathering around the table. Dr Owens, Chief Hopper, El, Joyce Byers, Steve, and Eddie are sitting at the Harrington dining table. They've all only just sat down, eyes on Steve.

"What do you mean you can't find me?" Steve asks as a whisper. With how silent it is, though, everyone hear.

El frowns. "You are gone. I cannot find you like I could Billy, or Dad, or Dr Owens. I do not know why."

After El had some rest and recovery, Steve had asked if she would look in his memories. Or be present while he remembered them. It was Dr Owens idea; maybe El could remember details that Steve himself did not pick up consciously, but heard to saw nonetheless. They'd attempted it last night to no success.

"Perhaps this has something to do with what... brought you back to this time," Dr Owens says, picking his words carefully with how slowly they left his mouth.

Steve nods before slumping in his chair, his brows furrowing as he thinks. Eddie thinks he's ridiculously cute when he makes that face. Joyce asks Dr Owens a question but Eddie's focus is on Steve. They're sitting next to each other, so he braves bumping his knee against Steve's. Steve responds by flashing him a smile and immediately hooking his ankle around Eddie's before falling back into his thoughts.

Eddie half listens to the conversation around him, half worries about Steve and what it means for him that El cannot find his mind. That being a by-product of the time travel thing seems logical. If Steve's consciousness was dropped into a younger body, the two minds couldn't exist at the same time. So perhaps, because El is searching for a Steve that, technically, no longer exists, she might not be able to find him?

"What about Project NINA?" Steve asks, bringing all conversation to a halt.

"How do you know-" Dr Owens cuts himself off. "No, I know how. Better question. What happened that we needed to actually use Project NINA?"

Steve looks haunted again, like he does when he remembers the timeline he destroyed. "Vecna happens. Spring break of '86. I- we can't talk about that here. I think- he can get inside people's head. Read their minds."

No one says it out loud, but everyone's eyes go to El for a moment and she looks uncomfortable.

"What if," Steve starts, like he's having a realization himself, "what if the reason I can't be found is for my protection? Vecna can read minds, get in there and make you think things- what if I'm being protected by whatever sent me back? Vecna doesn't know that I know what he's up to, 'cause he can't read my mind and know what happens in the future. Can't stop me from trying to stop him! Project NINA is like, a bring back memories thing, right? Take me there. Set it up away from Hawkins and take me there."

They discuss some more, trying to say a lot without saying anything incase Vecna was listening in right now. That's a thought that will keep Eddie up for months.

It's gets decided on that El will go with, to be able to try and reach Steve while he's trying to find his own memories. Hopper is going with because he's not letting El go alone, and that's when Eddie speaks up.

"Then I'm coming, too."

"Eds," Steve looks torn, like he wants to smile and frown at the same time.

"No. If Hopper's going for El's emotional support, than I'm coming for yours."

It's decided. Dr Owens will work on Project NINA, and arrange for them all to be picked up when it was ready.

"One last thing," Steve says, "once you're away from Hawkins, call me. There's someone I don't want involved in this. He's done enough damage. Oh, also, invest in some goddamn swim caps. If you think you can shave my head, or anyone else's, for your dunk tank, then you're going to get hit."

That night, Steve finally tells him what happened. What Dr Owens and he had planned. Steve only told Dr Owens about the Fourth of July, wanted to only change the last possible moment for worry of alerting Vecna to what was happening, worried about Vecna changing the plan if he knew.

He talks about Billy being possessed, how Will was, too, once. Dr Owens thinks they've managed to do that for Billy, but just to be safe, they're taking Billy somewhere. Steve didn't ask, but they're telling his dad that he got a scholarship to some college or other, full ride kind of thing. Max knows the truth, but she also knows he's alive. And knowing he's alive means Max isn't going to pull away from her friends.

Steve says he hopes that means Max is saved.

Eddie learns that Steve and Robin are going to become insufferable best friends, so Eddie had better make peace with that now.

Ha takes it all in, listens as Steve tries to downplay what he went through with humor. Like it was easier to endure just because he knew it was coming this time. It does end with Steve crying, just repeating they lived, this time, no one died, they're fine. And Eddie's smart to enough to know Steve isn't meaning all the people who did become a giant flesh monster; he's talking about they people he cares about. Hopper, who apparently died-but-didn't-die, and Billy.

He learns that last time El lost her powers, probably due to losing Hopper. But she didn't lose Hopper, or even have to fight the giant flesh monster. With the plans Dr Owens made, they'd already stormed and cleared the Russian base below Hawkins. It wasn't Dustin and Erica who freed Robin and Steve from their restraints, but some US military men. They'd waited until the Mind Flayer attacked the mall, dropped down inside it before torching it. They still needed the mall to burn down - there was a Russian base below it, after all.

Once Steve is finished, Eddie kisses his forehead and maneuvers them down in bed so he can spoon him. Steve melts into his touch, pulling Eddie's arms more firmly around him. Steve likes to be the little spoon, Eddie's happy to learn.

"I'm going to come out to everyone. Before we leave," Steve says, long after Eddie thought he's already fallen asleep. "You don't have to. We don't have to tell them we're together, but I want them to know."

The thought terrifies Eddie. He's been beaten up for the assumptions, it's hard to him to imagine what might happen if that words are made true by speaking them out loud. "Can I think on that?"

"Of course."

July 15th, 1985

Eddie does think about it. He thinks about coming out to this little family they've cultivated and it's hard. Coming out to Wayne had been rough, and he was one person! And he'd told Jeff. But Gareth and Brian had just kinda... put the pieces together and told Eddie they didn't care who he liked so long as he never picked his boytoy over Hellfire night (and so far, Eddie hasn't!). Eddie can't imagine telling up to fourteen people all at once.

Fourteen separate people who could hate him.

But Steve seems so sure they won't. That he won't lose anyone when(if) he comes out to them. And fuck, the scariest part if that he kind of wants to. If he and Steve do this together, if they know they're together, he could hold his hand when they're all together. Sit as close as he wants to without the fear of being found out because they'd already know.

But if they aren't okay with it. Or they aren't okay with Eddie.

These people, this group, was Steve's first, so they might be willing to forgive Steve for his temporary lapse in judgment, but Eddie hadn't done anything to earn their trust. Respect. Willingness to not beat him to death for being gay.

And also, a tiny part of him is afraid of losing Steve if he can't commit to coming out.

"Steve," Eddie whispers as they sit on the couch, a movie playing but Eddie's not watching. "I'm scared."

"What?" Steve sounds so confused, and he quickly looks between Eddie and the movie. It's so enduring that Eddie must laugh about it, just a little.

"Not of Footloose. Of telling people. About us."

Steve's face softens and he looks so fond that Eddie aches. "That's okay, Eddie. You don't have to."

"But what if...."

"If?" Steve prompts.

"What if I'm never ready to come out? What if I- if we can't- What does it mean for us, if I never get there?"

"Oh," Steve says, like the thought that Eddie would never come out hadn't ever occurred to him. "Well, then I'll just be the bisexual who never dates again and lives with his best guy friend for the rest of his life."

That's like a gut punch in the best way. That Steve says it so easily, like he plans to stay with Eddie until he dies. Eddie can't fathom that. "Careful, Stevie. With words like that I might get ideas about you."

Steve looks serious now, but with a little upturn to his mouth. A small, secret smile. "Ideas, hmm. What sort?"

"That you might adore me."

"Well, I do adore you," Steve says simply, easily, "I love you, Eddie."

Eddie freezes because that's not- Steve couldn't possibly mean- that's. What. Eddie and he haven't even said the word boyfriend to each other yet and Steve's... Steve is looking at him with such fondness, adoration, love. Butterflies erupt in Eddie's stomach and as quickly as that little bit of dread had filled him, it's gone even faster. Eddie flings himself into Steve's lap, the need to kiss him until both of them are light headed is the only thing left inside Eddie.

Eddie doesn't say it back, can't really, but Steve must know because he keeps repeating it, with every breath Eddie allows him to take in between kisses.

The next morning, Steve wants to comes out to his found family at their Good Luck Project NINA BBQ, because Hopper, El, Steve, and he are going to be heading to Indianapolis that evening to be picked up by Dr Owens men tomorrow morning and everyone wanted a last get together.

Steve is fearless. Steve is fearless, and so strong, and he loves Eddie.

So, when he calls attention to everyone and starts the speech he rehearsed with Eddie, Eddie steps up. Slides his hand into Steve's, gripping it probably to the point of pain, but there. It doesn't matter how they'll react, because Steve loves him. And he loves Steve.

(And if he clocks Lucas and Max exchanging money about it, well, he can't even be mad about that.)

#steddie #my fic #i have taken some liberties with the starcourt scene because lets face it #the timeline/amount of time that has passed between scenes is unreliable anyway #so im gonna be unreliable in a better way #which is lowering the amount of trauma these kids have just a lil bit #also i know it is a mix bag on how we feel about billy hargrove #i just think that steve would try and save him because of the whole Max almost getting Vecna'd in the graveyard thing yknow?#steve can hate billy and still want him to live for max #also STOP SHAVING ELS HEAD #especially when the scenes are of her fainting/passing out/being DRUGGED and waking up with her hair gone without her consent or knowledge #ew wrong ick YOU KNOW WHAT THE TROPE IMPLIES DUFFER BROTHERS IM ONTO YOU

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ma1dita · 12 days ago

Note

Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!

freaks come out at night

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song

monster mash-terlist

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“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”

Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.

“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.

All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.

“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.

“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”

He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”

Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”

“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.”

Impressive.

Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.

“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”

“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.

“You look like a Spencer.”

“Do I?”

Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.

“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.

“Right here should be fine.”

He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”

“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.

“Not like what, Spencer?”

His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”

“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”

And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”

“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”

So your confidence does put you into difficult situations.

But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.

The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.

“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”

“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”

“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”

“Yes! Stop asking!”

He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.

“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.

“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”

“Doctor Reid…”

He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.

“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.”

It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.

One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there.

“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”

“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”

His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.

“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”

Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.

“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”

He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.

“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”

“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”

Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

#ma1dita's monster mash 𓉸ྀི #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds x reader #kinktober #made by ma1dita ♥︎#criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfic

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kedsandtubesocks · 4 months ago

Text

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

#I blame both playlists I have for hades & perspjone & all the sleep token songs I’ve on repeat but again here we are lol #if you’re reading this know I really do appreciate it and me and hades Joel love you to the ends of the world #Pedro pantheon #hades!joel miller #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #Joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #Joel 🤎#pedrostories #cw dark content #tw dark content

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