#in my heart he fucked off to a cabin in the woods with his 20 dogs and never spoke to any of these bitches again

[snakeassassins]

I know people constantly bemoan the constant cuts back to ice pick joe’s subplot. It’s dreary and unpleasant and adds to the movie’s stupid long runtime, adding nothing to the plot from a pragmatic perspective, but I think people fail to understand how much it encapsulates the themes of goncharov.

Throughout the plot, it’s implied that joe was an american who immigrated to italy to reconnect with his roots. He is in many ways in indictment of the great american melting pot- how we romanticize the concept of diaspora to fit our own cultural narrative. Joe mentions that when he first moved to naples he had his bike stolen within a matter of minutes- a blatant reference to the 1948 italian classic bicycle theives. He went to italy to reconnect to his roots, and got exactly what his family left italy to escape: a life of crime and poverty.

This is why ice pick joe’s dogs are so important: he’s a dog of the mob! He represents the fate every other character in the movie is attempting to avoid. Yet he dies on his own terms with a smile on his face, his german shepherd running away into the woods. The symbolism of this is obvious: he’s been cut loose. Despite how much Goncharov did to avoid meeting ice pick joe’s fate, joe got the one thing goncharov wanted: his freedom.

People may say he’s a bad guy for all the people he killed and the crimes he committed, but ice pick joe’s only real crime was being italian.

[joelscruff]

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

--

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

--

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

--

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

--

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

--

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

--

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

--

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

--

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

--

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

--

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

--

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

--

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

--

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

--

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

--

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

--

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

--

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

[prettytoxicrevolver]

from your halloween scenarios & dialogue, scenario 31 & 20 with dialogue 10 & 19?? something with trent frederic where he starts off teasing the reader then he realizes shes actually scared so he cuddles & babys her?? 🥺❤️

this isn’t my best but i still like it tbh lol. request for more trent fics! he’s so cute (or any bruins players tbh i’m falling for some of them)

Your eyes glance warily over at your living room window where the rain is pelting violently against the glass. Thunder rumbles through the air so deeply your house shakes and your nerves deepen as a flash of lightning brightens the sky for just a moment.

Trent takes this moment to finally sit down next to you on the couch, long limbs spread everywhere and you turn in your seat to look at him. Your legs are pulled up in a criss cross fashion and you lean on your knees to look at Trent.

“Tell me a story,” you say, hoping your voice sounds relaxed enough that it’s casual and doesn’t convey the true nerves you were feeling deep down.

“Oh, I see. Is someone a little scared?” he teases and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off I’m bored,” you say trying to convince your best friend.

“Hmm,” the bruins player hums in thought for a moment before an idea strikes and he’s turning towards you with a mischievous gleam in his expression.

“There once was a family that lived in a big cabin house out near the woods. At night, the woods always grew dark and eerie as sounds could be heard from the forest.”

As Trent talks, you find yourself regretting your earlier request of a story and realize that he was only going to make your nerves jump through the roof. Your legs start to bounce anxiously, the story turning to gruesome details that will probably stick with you for the rest of the night.

“Now, whenever a thunderstorm like this happens, all you’ll ever be able to hear coming towards you at night is the thump of a peg leg hitting the ground in the woods, waiting to get you next,” Trent finishes the story and you’re staring at him with terror in your eyes.

“(y/n)?” he asks, realizing something was off when you didn’t respond to the end of his story.

“That kind of scared me,” you mumble shyly.

Just as Trent is about to apologize a million times over for being the biggest douche in the world, a flash of lightning blasts through the room and the sound shakes you so deep you jump and a shriek leaves your lips.

“Woah woah woah woah hey,” Trent says, pulling you into his arms so your face is pressed to his chest and your body is curled safely into him,

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You look up, placing your chin on his chest and staring into his soft brown eyes that convey worry and protection and care all wrapped up in one look that has your heart jumping.

Trent’s eyes trace your features, a soft sigh releasing from him as he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. When he pulls back his heart soars seeing the smile on your face.

“Come here baby,” he whispers and pulls you in close, making sure you’re comfortably wrapped up tight in his arms for the rest of the night.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.  

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

                                                  ***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him, 

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand,  awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

                                 Chapter 21 

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - The Beginning

A/N: You all need to blame both @storiesofsvu and @berniesilvas for this! I want woodsman!Sonny to be real so fucking bad, so that he can sweep me off my feet. Anyways, this covers the Cabin in the Woods square in @storiesofsvu fall bingo!

I don’t mention it in the story, but in my mind, this takes place before he’s in SVU, even before Homicide. I have him mid-late 20s.

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1330

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @dailypeterscanavino)

When Sonny was a kid, his parents would take him and his sisters to their vacation home; a homey cabin nestled in the New Hampshire woods. There were multiple cabins there, spread out over the land, close enough to be considered neighbors, but far enough for privacy. They had basic appliances—a fridge/freezer, a stove/oven, a sink, a bathtub, a shower, a toilet—but everything else was wooden. Dom Sr. eventually put a tv there, just in the master bedroom, so he could keep up with news and sports while they vacationed.

Sonny always loved the little community up there. Everyone was always so nice to him and his family. Which is why, after dealing with atrocities while on the force, he decided to retreat from city life. He hated being surrounded by monsters every day; sure not everyone in New York City was a creep or predator or murderer, but after seeing so much of the city’s underbelly, he was fed up.

He asked his parents if he could move to the New Hampshire house permanently. They would still be able to vacation there, of course—it was a massive, four-bedroom cabin—but he just needed to get away. He agreed to pay for everything, and he still had his cell phone so they could contact him if needed. It didn’t take much convincing for his parents to agree.

It was definitely an adjustment going from the heart of NYC to becoming a woodsman. Sonny grew his hair and beard out and bought plaid jackets—the things he saw woodsman do on tv when he was younger. The cabin needed work, especially clearing up the outside foliage, giving him some sense of purpose. And if he needed food, there were the local markets close by and a grocery store about an hour away.

The locals all remembered the scrawny little boy who spent his summers running around the woods with his sisters, and they all gladly took him under their wings. After Sonny hacked back the overgrowth, Mr. Piper taught him how to do controlled burn piles. Mr. and Mrs. Willis came over soon after, helping him measure out, then build an elevated garden. Mrs. Willis taught him how to make nutrient soil, while Mr. Willis gave him seeds, and taught him how to care for each and every vegetable.

When Sonny got the cabin, he inherited the small apple orchard, too. His pa taught him how to care for the trees while his ma taught him recipes for apple pie, cider, tarts, jams. He noticed how much he relied on bees to pollinate, and Ms. Walters, the local honey provider, taught him which wildflowers were 1) regional to them and 2) attracted bees. Sonny built another elevated garden, this time on his own, and filled it with wildflower seeds Ms. Walters gifted him with.

There was a creek nearby, and one day, Sonny found Mr. Adams fishing in it. Sonny proposed a deal; Mr. Adams gives Sonny an old rod that he wouldn’t miss, and Sonny would teach Mr. Adams the best way to clean and cook the fish. Mr. Adams agreed and gave him a sturdy rod. As Sonny went about cleaning and deboning the fish they had caught, he complimented Mr. Adams on his herb garden.

“Herb gardens aren’t the hardest thing to manage,” he said with a smile, and gifted Sonny with starters for every herb he could think of— “as payment for this phenomenal fish recipe!”

Third elevated garden up and running, Sonny fell into woodsman life easily. His muscles grew, though he was still thin; he was lean, though, not lanky anymore. Any questions he had, the locals had answers for. He grew his own food, fished his own fish, and bought (or traded) meat from the local hunters. Soon enough, the locals were calling him, asking for help with something or other. And Sonny loved all of it.

 *********************

During the weekly Autumn Farmer’s Market, Sonny rented a little booth. He had brought multiple apple pies, tarts, bottles of cider, apple chips, packages of herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, and everything else he had in abundance…that would also fit on only two tables. When he first started harvesting, he would give most away, or trade for other goods, but he also needed to make money some way. So, the extras ended up here.

He was in the middle of chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Willis about how his gardens were coming along when he saw you. He froze halfway through a sentence, his jaw hanging open, prompting the Willis’s to turn. Mrs. Willis looked back at Sonny, a knowing smile on her face.

“She just moved back in with her parents; she had been living in New York City for a little bit, trying to make a life there, but, well, as she said herself, she’s not a city girl,” Mrs. Willis explained.

Before Sonny could respond—or tear his eyes from you—you glanced over at him. You smiled warmly, and his heart beat faster. When you started coming towards his little booth, he scrambled to clean himself up, brushing his hair back off his face, smoothing down his shirt, trying to wipe some dirt off the front. Mrs. Willis gave him a smile before looping her arm with her husband and pulling him away.

“Hello! I’m new here, but I must say, your booth is probably my favorite,” you said, still smiling at him.

It took him a moment for his brain to process your words. “O-oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“All of your food looks delicious. I mean, look at this squash! It’s bigger than my head!” you announced, giggling.

He had never heard anything more magical in his life. “Do you like pie? I can give you a slice,” he replied nervously.

“How much?” you asked. You loved both apples and pie, and his looked amazing.

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s on the house; a sweet treat for a pretty woman.”

You felt your face heat and you smiled shyly as he unwrapped a pie and cut into it. He cut off a generous piece, and you opened your mouth to complain about taking it for free, but he brushed you off, placing the piece on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, and you swear your taste buds were dancing; it was the most delicious thing you ever tasted before, the sweetness and the tartness balanced perfectly.

You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing it. “That is the best damn pie I’ve ever had. Ever. But please, share with me, Mr.…?”

“Call me Sonny, please. Sonny Carisi,” he replied, a goofy smile pulling across his lips.

You gave him your name, then offered him a bite. You both stood and chatted while exchanging bites of apple pie. He told you about his decision to leave the city and live a simpler life, surrounded by good people. And you told him about how you had always heard of the big city and decided to live there. But after a few months, you missed the woods too much, and you came back home.

“I feel a little silly living back at home in my adult life. I’m hoping to get my own cabin one day…maybe build it from the ground up,” you finished.

Sonny nodded in understanding. “Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can always ask me. I’m not the most knowledgeable about cabin life quite yet, but I have the knowledge of who to call for advice.”

“Well, thank you, Sonny. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you replied, and he smiled. Then you leaned over the table of his goods and kissed his scruffy cheek before winking and walking back to your parent’s booth, giving him a little wave. The smile and look of absolute adoration in his eyes would be a fixed image in your mind for a while.

[asweetprologue]

drown all my shadows

Octoberfest 15: Lost (whumptober #20) - Last one!!

Jaskier wakes in a fog.

His immediate first impression is, in a way, a lack of impression. The world around him seems featureless. He’s standing, though he doesn’t remember standing up, or walking here in the first place. The fog is thick around his thighs, sending up slow, curling whisps whenever he moves his hands. It’s not much better elsewhere, filling the air and turning the world into an opaque canvas of white. He can’t see beyond his own outstretched hand, everything lost in the gloom. 

It’s unnerving. The world is dampened around him, like there’s cotton stuffed in his ears. Jaskier doesn’t know how he got here. He and Geralt had been together - on a hunt? There had been a cabin - a woman? a witch? - and they’d given chase, following her into the woods beyond… 

He remembers nothing else. His memories are as foggy as his surroundings. One moment he’d been running after Geralt through the forest of craggy, blackened trees, and then next thing he remembers is opening his eyes to this barren landscape. The silence around him is so intense he can hear his own heartbeat rushing in his ears, deafening. 

Half just for something else to listen to, Jaskier says, “Hello?” His voice falls flat in the fog, eaten up by the mist. No one answers. “Geralt? Hello?”

There is nothing. He does a once over of his surroundings once again, but in every direction all he can see is white. It’s almost like being in a box, surrounded by walls on all sides. Feeling panic starts to worm its way into his chest, Jaskier takes a few steps forward. He can’t explain why he feels dread curling through his stomach. It’s just fog, he tells himself. But it doesn’t feel like fog. It feels empty and oppressive and cold, clinging to him and tugging at his clothes and his feet. Something equally cold and empty echoes through Jaskier’s chest, a spot of fearful loneliness that he has always worked hard to keep at bay. 

With no other recourse, he walks. 

There are no features to the landscape that he can distinguish. The fog is endless; he may as well not be moving at all, for all it changes. The ground under his feet is a plain gray dirt, but he has not stumbled upon a single plant or animal since he’d started walking. It feels quickly as if hours have passed, though it also could have been only moments. There is no way to mark the passage of time or how far he’s walked. There’s no sun in the sky; the fact that he can see at all suggests that it must be there, but the fog has swallowed it along with everything else. He can only put one foot in front of the other, occasionally calling out to anyone who might be near. 

It could have been minutes or hours or days, but eventually something does change. He thinks he’s imagined it, at first, but as he moves closer there’s no mistaking. There is a shape in the fog, something just slightly darker than the rest of his surroundings. He can’t make it out, but Jaskier moves towards it with a burst of enthusiasm that borders on fear. As he nears, the fog dissipates enough for him to make out the outline of a figure.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Jaskier says, relief sweeping through him. Even if this person is as lost as he is, at least there will be someone with him. Anything to help assuage the nervous, lonely thing inside him. “I thought I was the only one out here, are you alright?” As he approaches, he can see that it's a woman, her yellow dress faded with age. Jaskier practically runs to close the last few feet between them, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. The dress is soft under his hands, but extraordinary cold. At his touch, the figure shifts like water under his hands, turning in his direction. 

She has no face. 

Jaskier screams, but the sound is consumed by the fog like all the others. He falls back, scrambling away on his ass. The thing that looks like a woman but has no face does not follow him, standing perfectly still. The flat expanse of smooth skin where her features should be does not change in the slightest or react to him in any way. Jaskier stumbles to his feet and runs back into the fog, desperate to escape the horror of it.

His heart does not stop pounding, no matter how much distance he gains. It’s impossible to tell if he is gaining distance. And it isn’t long before he stumbles across another figure, practically running into it. The man is the same, utterly devoid of features, a personless person shaped thing. Jaskier feels the terror gripping him wind tighter and tighter as he turns and immediately finds another faceless figure in his periphery. The shells never react to him, but for some reason that is more frightening than if they’d tried to attack him. 

Jaskier runs, not stopping to assess the shapes he sees blurred through the fog. He’s panicking, he knows, but he can’t stop. He’s alone in this horrible fog with these empty people. There’s no escape; no matter how far he runs, there’s no thinning of the mist. 

Finally he collapses, curling into a tight ball in the thickest part of the fog. Gasping into his knees, Jaskier thinks, frantically, that he might be trapped here forever. Who would look for him? Who would even know where this is? No one at Oxenfurt would think anything of his disappearance, his family haven’t seen him in decades. He has fans who will forget him, patrons who will mourn the loss of his art but move immediately on to newcomers. As he thinks, Jaskier feels the fog closing in tighter around him, kissing his cheeks and clutching at his shoulders. It’s so cold, in a bone deep way that scares him as much as the faceless people. No one will remember him, no one is looking for him -

Geralt, he thinks. Geralt will look.

It’s such a relief he almost cries with it. No matter what Geralt has said in the past, they’re friends, and Geralt is the most noble man Jaskier knows. Geralt would not write off his disappearance. Geralt cares about him, and he will find him. Geralt will come. 

And suddenly, as if summoned by sheer will, Jaskier finds a familiar hand thrust into his face. 

Geralt’s eyes are wide when Jaskier looks up, and it’s so good to see him, so good to see anyone that Jaskier fails to spring immediately into action. Impatiently, Geralt shakes the hand in front of him. “Jaskier,” he says, insistent. “Take my hand.” So Jaskier does. 

Instantly the fog retreats, as if blown back by a strong blast of aard. The forest comes into focus around them, the spindly arms of the trees reaching up towards the pale blue sky. Jaskier is pulled to his feet, Geralt’s hands settling on his upper arms as he is given a thorough once over. “Are you alright?” Geralt asks, gruff but clearly concerned. 

Jaskier feels a bit faint, weak in the wake of his terror. “Ah,” he says faintly. “M-Mostly, I think. Yes. What was that, Geralt? Where was I?”

Geralt frowns, glancing around the forest around them. It’s quiet, but in the way forests often are in the fall. If he strains, Jaskier can hear the rustle of animals rooting through the fallen leaves that coat the ground around them, the soft calls of birds and the chirp of squirrels and chipmunks. “The witch was kidnapping people,” Geralt says. “Do you remember?”

Jaskier nods slowly. It’s coming back now, without the fog leaking into his brain and obscuring his thoughts. “People from the village. We chased after her, when she ran from the cottage. She -”

“Hit you with a spell,” Geralt finishes. “Yes. It put you in some kind of… in-between place. Managed to get her to tell me what it was, before I killed her. It feeds off of people’s loneliness. She used it to strengthen her magic.”

“There were others there,” Jaskier says, feeling nauseated as he remembers the blank stares. “They had no faces.”

“Already gone. Eaten up by her magic,” Geralt says, gently. He’s smoothing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms now, a grounding gesture that Jaskier is grateful for. “It wouldn’t have happened to you. I found you easily, once I got her to tell me the spell. People care about you. The spell only feeds off of lonely people.”

“I knew you would find me,” Jaskier says. He feels tired, exceptionally so. Like the fog sapped up all of his strength, both physical and emotional. “Fuck, Geralt, it was awful.” Unable to help himself, Jaskier leans forward until he’s resting his forehead against Geralt’s shoulder, fingers tangling in the familiar leather armor. 

To his surprise, strong arms come up to hold him tightly. Jaskier sighs, relief sweeping through him as Geralt’s warm palms press into his shoulders. “It’s alright,” Geralt says, in the same tone he uses on Roach when he’s trying not to spook her. Jaskier would take offense if he didn’t feel so much like he might be spooked. “I would never have left you there.”

“I know,” Jaskier says, tired but content. “I would never forget you. I’m never lonely with you.”

Geralt squeezes him tightly, once, before releasing him, though not entirely. One hand still rests on Jaskier’s shoulder, just at the joint of his neck and collarbone. “We should get back to town. Are you alright to walk?”

“Yes,” Jaskier says, though exhaustion rests in every bone. “Bit of a fright, that’s all. I’m perfectly hale and hearty.”

To prove this, Jaskier turns and starts away, not even sure that he’s going in the right direction. A hand catches his wrist as he does, and he turns back to Geralt with a questioning look. He’s met with a soft expression, one he’d rarely seen before on the witcher. “I’m glad,” Geralt says. “That you’re not lonely.”

Jaskier finds himself smiling, warmth flooding through his chest to finally chase off the cold from before. “Never with you, dear. Never with you.”

[bl--ankhaeji]

Five Months(yuta)

Pairing ~ Yuta x Reader

Genre ~ A little bit of angst, fluff, humor if you can find it and bittersweet

Warning ~ uhh I don’t really have any 

A/N ~ so for this i felt like my writing changed a little. like so far I haven’t written anything with this type of atmosphere or theme so it was something new and I really enjoyed writing this. I also want to say thank you to my beta readers Xiami and Mylin. 

W. Count ~ 2.4k

Hii, before we get into the story. Wanted to let you guys know that this is my fic for the Secret Santa collab that @neoculturechristmas held. @neonun-au I am your secret santa 😊 or 🎅🏽anon. I am sorry I didn’t talk to you that much in your asks, but when we did I really enjoyed it. I hope you enjoy.  

On to the story

You and Yuta have been broken up for around five months now. Over what, you truly don’t even remember. Some petty argument got out of hand and it caused you guys to break up with each other in the heat of anger. Usually when things like that happen the couple gets back together within a week and everything is fine, but sad to say that’s not what happened with you and Yuta. 

You both were entirely too stubborn for your own good, and with both of you refusing to even so much as speak to the other you managed to stay broken up for five months. And that’s what led you to where you are right now. Stranded on a snowy mountain trail with said ex. 

The sound of snow crunching underneath your boots was deafening,but even this noise couldn't drown out the sound of your thoughts. You ask yourself, how did what was supposed to be a quick stroll on a beautiful snowy trail to clear your mind end up becoming a meet up with your ex?

Oh, maybe it’s because life is a bitch that loves to fuck with you. What are the odds that you and your friends plan a Christmas trip to the same resort as Yuta and his friends? And what are the odds that your cabins are right next to each other? And what are the fucking odds that you both picked the exact same time to step out for a walk on the same trail, and you both manage to get lost? 

“Yuta, I really don’t think you know where the hell you’re going.” You say halting your steps, the icy tone in your words almost rivaling the cold outside. You both have been lost and aimlessly walking around for the past 20 minutes and the temperature continued to drop as it was getting later and later into the night. Yuta swore he knew the way back, but you were cold and tired and seriously doubting this ability. 

When you first realized you were lost, you tried to retrace your steps only to find out the consistently falling snow had already covered them, making it look as if no one had even been there. At first you thought, maybe this was a sign, an opportunity for you and Yuta to rekindle your relationship, but you quickly realized how wrong you were. 

Yuta’s hand reached up to his head, “Just, give me a minute okay. I know how to get back, we're almost there.” He said as he continued to pace forward. 

“Yuta, stop! Just fucking stop and admit that you don’t know where the fuck we are or where we are going! This is just like you, I see you haven’t changed in these last five months.” You scoff looking away as you wrap your arms around your waist, trying to generate some warmth.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?!” A fiery Yuta inquires, turning around to face you. 

“It means that even with our breakup, you still can’t admit when you’re wrong and don’t know something. You keep pushing at it, not listening, feeling like you have to know it all on your own.” The words fell out of your mouth unforgivingly, packing a punch in every single syllable. Finishing your statement, you roll your eyes, shifting your weight to your right side. 

“Wow, isn’t that fucking rich coming from you. I’m not the one who bottles everything up and whenever they feel is convenient enough decides to blow up on her boyfriend for no reason. Just like the one that broke us up, this argument was started by you. So don’t act like I’m the only problem.” Just like Yuta said, you may have started the argument but he seemed intent on finishing it. 

The cold was suddenly unbearable, and all you wanted right now was to just go to sleep in a warm bed. No words were spoken after that, and like that you and Yuta just pushed past it, continuing to walk forward and ignoring the venomous words you both spoke in hopes of forgetting this event. This really was no different than five months ago. 

The want to cry your heart out was almost all consuming, but you didn’t let a single tear fall. In hopes of not appearing weak and also because you believed with your whole heart that if you were to cry right, now the tears would turn to ice on your face instantly from the cold. So you kept your head down, trying to not think about where you actually were. 

You were completely zoned out until you heard, “Y/n, we’ve made it.” Raising your head, you see a wooden cabin in the distance. Finally, you thought, it was starting to get dark. You instantly start sprinting to the cabin. “Wait up.” Yuta said as he started to run behind you. The sounds of crushed snow and huffed breaths filled your ears. 

Upon getting closer to the cabin you realize something is off. Looking through the uncovered window on the door, you realize that this wasn’t the cabin that either of you currently occupied. You could tell not only from the emptiness in the house but also from the lack of lights and the quiet that rang through the air. “Yuta, I don’t know where we are but this isn’t either one of our cabins.” You tell him through bated breaths, your teeth slightly chattering, looking as he slows down until he stops in front of you, also out of breath. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks as he tries the doorknob only to see that it’s locked.

“I mean that this isn’t where we’re staying. It’s just a random cabin in the woods.” Yuta swears loudly at the revelation. You both are stranded at some random cabin at night while it’s snowing and almost below freezing outside. “What the fuck are we gonna do? We could barely manage to find our way here. There's no way we’ll be able to navigate in the dark and find our way back.” 

“We have no choice, we have to break in. Our clothes and shoes are almost soaked through from the melted snow and I can practically hear your teeth chattering. Also, I’m hungry.” At the mention of food your stomach chooses now to rumble loudly almost as if agreeing with Yuta’s statement. 

A small chuckle leaves Yuta’s lips, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go hungry.” He proceeds to take off the flannel he has underneath his snow jacket and wraps it around his hand making a fist. He lifts his fist getting ready to punch the glass before you stop him, your hands coming around fist. 

“Woah! Stop right there, we can’t just go vandalizing this random cabin hell we’re already breaking and entering. Just step aside, I got this.” You tell the man as you push him aside. You slightly tilt over, surveying the type of lock on the door and inwardly rejoice at the fact that there’s no bolt lock and it’s just a regular handle lock which seems to be quite loose. 

Good thing you brought your wallet in case you went to the convenience store. Taking out an old card, you proceed with breaking into the cabin. Sliding it in between the door handle and the frame, a smile takes over your face when you feel the door give and start to open. 

Standing straight, you look towards Yuta while inwardly praying the owners don’t have a silent alarm for the cabin. “Woah, that was kinda hot. When did you learn to do that?” He questions, leaning against the wall of the cabin watching you with predatory eyes. 

Something stirs in your stomach at the look on his face. Deciding to ignore it, you just say, “A lady never tells.” and waltz into the cabin with a wink. You hear a low whistle flow from his mouth as he follows you into the currently uninhabited cabin.    

You look around the room searching for a heater, preferably gas when the room suddenly gets flooded by light. “We have electricity, so that’s good.” Yuta says before he makes his way to the kitchen, “Now let's look for some food.” You hear a couple cabinets open and close before Yuta finds some canned food. Luckily, there’s three cans of beef soup that you guys can heat up and eat. 

Yuta gets the food going and you continue your search for a heater, finding it near the back of the room. You quickly turn it on in order to warm yourself up, while proceeding to take off your wet jacket and boots. It was a good thing the wood floor was covered with a rug. Yuta calls your name, telling you the food was ready, and you walk to the kitchen reluctantly, leaving behind the warm rug underneath your feet. 

You take the first sip of your soup, the warmth it radiates heating you up internally as it travels down your throat, and part of you feels relieved. The prospect of freezing to death wasn’t knocking at your door anymore and you had food in your system, but you and Yuta eat your soup in silence. Though the room was draped in a comfortable warmth and you guys weren’t yelling at each other you still couldn’t help but feel like something between you two just wasn’t right. 

After washing the dishes, you make your way back to the main room, tuning in on the softness of your sock clad feet padding against the wood floor. You spot Yuta standing near the heater and you notice that he had draped your wet jackets above the heater, possibly so they would be dry by the time you guys left in the morning. 

Lowering yourself to the rug, you sit down criss cross, busying yourself by braiding the tassels on the sides of the rug. You hear Yuta clear his throat as he sits across from you on the spacious rug. “Do you want to play a game?” He asks you looking up from his hands to gouge your reaction. 

“Sure.” you reply, waiting for him to tell you the game. He replies, telling you he wants to play          questions, and you prepare yourself for the possible shit show that might ensue. 

“I’ll go first. Are you still cold?” His simple question takes you by surprise. That’s not even close to what you expected for him to ask.

“Yea, just a little though.” You reply honestly shrugging your shoulders, “My turn.” What did you want to ask? you thought to yourself. You didn’t want to lower the atmosphere with a question about your relationship just yet, so you also decided to play it safe. “Are you still hungry?” 

“You know I am.” He quips a little smile playing at his lips. “Next question. Since you’re still cold, can I cuddle you right now?” Your eyes grow larger at his question and you can’t deny that the thought of it made your heart race a little. A slow nod is all the answer Yuta needs before he is scooting over behind you wrapping his arms around your torso. 

You never got to tell Yuta how good this hairstyle was on him. The bleached hair with lilac highlights fit him so well, and that’s all you could think as his head finds a home on the side of your neck and his semi long hair tickles the side of your face. You’re so focused on the sensation of his body against yours filtering his warmth to you that you don’t notice that it is now your turn for a question. 

“Y/n, it’s been your turn for a while.” Yuta speaks as his warm breath dances on your skin.

“Why have you not tried to mend things with me?” You don’t know if it’s just your curiosity or if it’s your brain trying to ruin the moment so you don’t get hurt but you decide it’s time to bring up your relationship.

“Well you can’t say you’ve tried all that hard either. It goes both ways y/n-” 

“Actually,” You interrupt him, “I did try, once. It was three months into our breakup and I was tired of missing you and missing us and I wanted it all to be over and to just put this behind us. So I went over to your house to mend things and I saw some girl leaving, and before you say I jumped to conclusions, I saw her kiss you.” Averting your eyes to your sweaty palms, you watch yourself rub them against your knees. You can feel the telltale sting in your eyes signifying future tears.

“That- Y/n no it’s really not what you think.” You feel Yuta’s arms wrap tighter around you. “That girl was a project partner and she came over so we could work on it, but she had heard that me and you broke up so she thought it was okay to try and shoot her shot by kissing me. I didn’t kiss back, nor did I enjoy it. I even ended up doing the rest of the project on my own.” 

You turn to look at Yuta to see if he’s telling the truth and you see no hints of falsity. Instantly you feel stupid, and you go to look back at the floor until Yuta grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.  

“My turn. If I were to tell you that I was willing to change for us right now would you believe me?” His eyes burn intensely as he waits for your reply.

“If I were to tell you that you don’t have to change for us would you believe me?” Was your reply and you could see the hope forming in his irises

“If I were to tell you I still love you-” His words fall off as your lips meet his and they become occupied with something else. 

Five months. It had been five months since you heard his voice. It had been five months since you felt him against you. Five months since you tasted his lips. Five months since he had last declared his love. 

If you could go back in time and make it to where you never had to suffer that drought without him, you would. But for now you just wanted to enjoy the time you would get from today forward.   

[snowgoldwaylon]

You What??? - Frank Woods X Reader

Y/N and Russell Adler are twins. But what happens when Y/N falls for a person they work with?

TW: Strong language

It was no secret that the Adler twins were the best agents the world have ever seen. Russell Adler, who obtained the nickname 'America's Monster' and Y/N Adler, who was called 'The Belladonna.'

Your team loved you both, you all had been through so much in the past couple of years.

You always felt close to Park, she was a relief. Of course your brother Adler, but he still sometimes felt like he needed to protect you.

But, you found yourself caring deeply for a man named Frank Woods. Oh, how this bad-tempered, not always thinking things through, handsome man had changed your life. And you changed his.

When he acted recklessly, you were the only person he listened to and calmed down. Adler saw glimpses of what happened sometimes, and it made his blood boil.

It's not that he didn't like Woods, it would spoil the mission if you two got together. It was forbidden to Adler.

Alcohol was your coffee, and being hyper was a blessing. You were almost unstoppable unless it came to Frank Woods of course.

Every time you saw those gorgeous, ocean blue eyes, the whole world stopped to stare.

Fast forward a few months and here you are with the team at base. You guys had finally gotten daybreak after getting relieved by another team.

So of course you strutted around the large, cozy cabin in some shorts and a loose tank top.

Park was in the kitchen, making some tea. You stepped in with her and began making some eggs and toast.

"Hey Hel, would you like some?" You asked politely. She looked up from her book and set her pen down.

"Sure, thank you! Make them scrambled please?" She asked.

You smiled and began whisking the eggs for Park before putting them into the pan, adding some salt for seasoning. You had always been known as a fantastic cook in the team!

"So, how is the whole Woods thing going Y/N? Have you shot your shot yet?" Park asked.

You almost choked on your saliva when she said that.

"Helen Park! I don't like him like that.....Even if I did, my brother would kill me!" You exclaimed.

Like he had been summoned, out came a pajama-ridden Adler, with bedhead and all. He yawned and stretched, then he took a seat next to Park.

"My brother would what? What did you get yourself into this time, my naive little sister." He smirked.

You scoffed and threw an eggshell his way.

"We're only 4 minutes apart!!! Quit that!" You yelled.

Adler wasn't mad by the fact of you yelling, he was just grumpy at the moment.

"You know Y/N, ever since you joined NATO, you've gotten quite the mouth. Drop the attitude and sass real quick. I'll send you back home to mom and dad!" He said with a sneer.

This made your blood boil. You were already stressed out, you didn't need this.

"You know what Russell, I'm fed up with you. You act like your like 20 years older than me, and you aren't. You aren't my dad, my mom, and sure as hell, not my boss. Back off." You snapped.

"Hey you two, stop it. Is this what you really wanna do on our day off? Is argue?" Park said. But she got ignored.

"Well, Y/N maybe if you didn't act like such a child I wouldn't have to do this. How about that? Maybe you should find a man to get you in shape." Adler gritted.

You cringed and almost threw an egg on his head.

"Russell, I told you plenty of times that I like someone but you always tell me to stay away. I'm not listening anymore!" You spat.

"Who is it Y/N??? Is it Sims? Baker??? Hunter??" Adler spoke, slamming his fist on the table.

"IT'S FRANK YOU IDIOT! THERE ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY JACKASS??" You screamed.

"You what????" Adler shouted. Then he leaned back into his chair.

Adler sat back in silence, so did Park. Woods approached from his bedroom and stared at you with deer eyes. He was shocked, you liked him back??

You felt like you could crawl into a hole at the moment. Here is Frank, stood at you in his glory, and your big mouth just outed a huge secret.

"Y/N.....You like me?" Woods asked in shock. He couldn't believe his ears.

You turned off the stove, put the spatula into the sink, and turned around, going back downstairs to your room to hide. You locked the door and turned on your radio.

The hard rock sounds of AC/DC filled the room, just enough sound to drown out the sound of you sobbing and crying. God forbid if you ever wanted anybody to see you cry.

Not even seconds later there were a few knocks at your door. Of course, you didn't want to answer.

It was probably Adler, and he's the one person you don't wanna see at the moment. But yet again, the knocking persisted.

"Y/N? It's Frank, open the damn door. I need to talk to ya." He said.

Your head cocked up, and you turned down the radio just a tad. With hesitation, you slowly approached the door. You wiped away the tears, ran a hand through your hair, and opened it.

Frank was now dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight-fitted shirt. He looked so good, you could feel your heart burst.

"Y/N, can I come in? I think we need to talk one on one, just you and me and no douche canoe Adler." He spoke with a smile.

You giggled at this and let him in. He shut the door behind you and waited for you to sit down. You chose a spot on your bed and he pulled up a rolley chair from your desk.

"Y/N, before this goes any further, I like you. I always have, you have always been special to me as a person, I've never really done anything though because I knew we couldn't date while hunting Perseus. Adler would have a cow but, I'm done caring what he thinks. He's one of my best friends and I respect him as a leader, friend, and your brother but it's time to make my own decision." He said, leaning towards you.

He held out a hand for you and looked at you with a dazzling smile. You took his hand and also leaned close to him.

"Me too Frank. Ever since I saw you, I saw my future. I want you to be my missing piece because you are. I love you." You spoke, a stray tear slipping from your eye.

He wiped that tear away and smiled, cupping your cheek with his gloved covered hand.

"Of course, my Belladonna. You are my kryptonite, forever and always." He spoke with the class.

He leaned forward, to where his nose touched yours and your foreheads met.

"May I have the fuckin' honor and kiss you, my gorgeous lady?" He whispered.

You nodded and grabbed onto his shoulders.

"I thought you'd never ask, Frank. Of course."

With a smile, he pulled you into a passionate kiss and held you there. After you pulled away, he held you close to his chest. All was right with you, this is all you ever wanted. Was Frank Woods.

[crushing-on-nico-di-angelo]

Okay, here's the actual chapter 3

7 Nights in Cabin 13

Nico took a small step backwards. “I’m sorry,” Will hesitated. “I shouldn’t have asked you, I know you probably don’t want to and--”

“Hey, woah, I never said I didn’t want to. I was just shocked. Not everyday I get asked to sleep with someone-- I- I mean… you know what I mean.”

Will giggled. “So does this mean you do want to?”

“...Yeah. I guess it does.”

Read (and maybe give kudos?) on ao3

~~~~

Lying in Nico’s bed, side by side, wasn’t as awkward as Will thought it would be. The comforter was very comforting and warm. The warmth of Nico made his heart beat faster, he hadn’t slept next to anyone since he was about seven years old having a nightmare about goats and crawled into his mami’s bed.

Nico turned to him, so Will made the necessary adjustments.

“I hope you don’t mind that I kept the window open. The light… helps.”

“I’m the son of Apollo, Neeks. I don’t mind at all.” Nico’s face softened. Will stared at his eyes, and he swore there was a universe of activity and stars in a dark brown expanse. He was lost in trying to pinpoint every constellation that he didn’t notice Nico’s hand reaching for his hair until he felt the tentative ruffle.

“Ah, sorry. I can stop if you’d like. Bianca…” Nico cleared his throat. “Bianca used to do this to me when I was having trouble sleeping.”

“Don’t stop,” Will murmured, once again feeling the effects of sleepiness. “Please.”

Nico closed his eyes and continued softly playing with Will’s hair. Will was simultaneously hyper-aware of how nice it felt to have someone play with his hair and extremely at peace, letting sleep overtake him.

<i> A wedding. Drinking gasoline. Pain in his right leg. Silence; eternal, deafening silence. </i>

When Will opened his eyes, he was acutely aware of the hand resting on his head. A bit of drool was pooled underneath his chin, but how could he move when Nico was still asleep holding his head? Nothing to do now but stay still and think.

<i> Alright Solace… I’ve been putting it off too long. How did I get here? …Nathan is how. But I don’t want to think about him. Which is fine, because I haven’t seen him in years, so I can’t exactly pin this on him. How did I get here <b> now? </b> ...I got into my head again is how.</i>

He remembers it, his relapse, but not exactly.

He was showing Clarisse how to complete an advanced archery move. He may not have been the best in comparison to his siblings, but he and Clarisse had been best friends after the Battle of Manhattan. They had gotten clean together. He had to help her with the archery.

But then. The way he positioned Clarisse’s arm. He remembered that was exactly how Fletcher positioned his. He remembered Michael doing the same for other campers. He finished teaching Clarisse the move and left to go to the showers.

He pushed the thought out of his mind-- or, he tried to. He couldn’t think of anything at all, and his breathing was getting so, so heavy. He turned on the water to hide the noises he was making, hyperventilating. They were dead, they were dead, and he <i> knew</i> they were dead. Why couldn’t he get it through that thick skull of his? He knew they were dead he saw it happen, saw the bridge collapse. But it was all he could think of, all just looping through his mind, over and over and over. No release. No end in sight to the looping thoughts. Breathing breathing breathing only not in the way he was supposed to. Suffocating on too much air and not enough oxygen.

And then the dysphoria kicked in.

His chest hurt. His chest hurt so fucking much. In addition to the binding he was doing, he was breathing so, so hard. He wanted to take the binder off, but his clothes were too wet and it was stuck. Thoughts looping, never stopping. Dead, dead, dead. Never going to be a real man. The sound of the explosion being nothing and everything to him all at once. Losing the first person to help him. Wanting so badly to hurt himself but having nothing to do so with. And then remembering what he did in the following months.

He let the water of the shower run over his soaked clothes while he focused on what he did after they died. The Hypnos cabin, they helped him forget it, but in the wake of his panic attack he remembered where he put them.

The last of his stash.

The next thing he knew, he was frantically searching for pennies with a flashlight in a camp that didn’t even use American currency-- his mind finally off his dead siblings-- at midnight outside of the Hades cabin. And thank Zeus for that.

...He was a weak person. As soon as things got tough, he went with the convenient solution. He’d always been a bad friend and a bad son because of it, and he likely always would be. Things got better for a bit, but looking at himself now? How could he ever think of himself as a good person after this, when it’s clear that he’ll always be fucking… <i>weak</i> like this….

This wasn’t something he was going to forgive himself for anytime soon. Not at all. Especially not for concerning Nico like this. He could have handled himself.

<i> Could I have handled myself?</i> he wondered. Nico shifted in his sleep, his arm now draping over Will’s shoulder. <i>Does it even matter right now? It’s too late to change it.</i>

He tried to settle into sleep again, but he found that he couldn’t. He also didn’t want to think anymore about what happened to get him here in the first place, when he could be messing around with his friends and cabin-mates while canoeing. He could be trying for the camp record on the lava wall. He could be doing a million things… but he fucked it up. Gods, he already said he didn’t want to think about it. So why was he?

He sighed softly, not wanting to disturb Nico. He snuggled into Nico’s embrace, not realizing how close they had gotten when they were asleep. His nose was nearly touching Nico’s and he noticed the faint freckles splashed over his nose and under his eyes. They were so light that you had to be inches away to notice them, but Will suspected that he would <i>only</i> notice them from now on. Just like his eyes, Will felt compelled to trace out constellations.

Will had posters and posters back in his home in Austin about stars and space exploration. He memorized constellations and had a hyperfixation on planets from ages seven to eleven. He still had all of that knowledge in his head, and it was remarkable to him how many constellations he found on Nico’s face. He pulled one of his hands from under the covers and started going over them, trying not to touch Nico’s face. He did lightly trace Nico’s nose, and was surprised when Nico didn’t even stir. He started feeling more and more relaxed, tracing what was almost the big dipper; he eventually fell asleep again with his hand cupping Neek’s cheeks.

He dreamt rough dreams, but was fortunate enough to wake up not remembering any of them.

~~~~~~

Will woke up and felt an absence of warmth. He saw Nico leaning against the doorframe, his silhouette framed by the hall light. He stood there, unmoving. Will would have wondered if he had fallen asleep again if not for the fact that he was standing fully upright. Nico knocked gently on the wood of the frame before walking away. Will wondered what that was all about but didn’t want to ask. He stood from the bed and walked to Nico’s bathroom to splash his face. He stood up and was hit with dizziness. There was a clock by Nico’s bed which read ‘8 P.M.’

“Ah,” he murmured himself. “That’s it.”

He fell asleep with Nico at around noon, which meant he hadn’t eaten in nearly 8 hours. He shivered from the cold. He grabbed a jacket hanging from the bed and walked out.

“Hey, Neeks,” Will felt a bit odd. They had been so intimate with each other earlier, he wondered if that would make things awkward between them.

“Hello, William. How’d you sleep?” Nico seemed to not mind, so Will decided to play it cool.

“Alright. I dreamt, so…”

Nico chuckled. “So not the best it could have been. I made us pot pie, it’s in the oven right now.”

“Holy shit, deathboy. You always cook so much?” Nico smiled and shook his head.

“Just felt like it lately, I suppose. It’s almost ready, grab a seat.”

~~~~~

After about an hour of eating and delirious laughter, it suddenly came to light that Nico had never played 20 questions.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never played?” Will was incredulous. “Didn’t you used to go to boarding school?” Nico was still grinning from the laughter.

“Well, yes but I was around 10 years old! I didn’t play games like that.” Will shook his head in disbelief.

“We’re remedying that today, di Angelo.”

“How do you play?”

“I ask you a question, you answer it, and then you ask me and I answer. The cycle continues until we each ask 20 questions.”

Nico hummed to himself. “Is anything off-limits?”

Will knew what he didn’t want him to ask, but instead said, “On my end? No. Is there anything you don’t want me to ask you?”

“...I suppose not.”

“Alright. Feel free to say ‘skip’ for any question. No big deal, I’ll just ask a new one.”

“Alright. Do you go first or me?”

Will always liked to ask the same question during 20 questions. “If you had the chance to have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?”

“Hm…” Nico took a deep breath. “Does my mother count?”

Will’s breath hitched. “She-- she does,” <i> Treat it normal, Solace.</i> “She seems like she’d be a good choice. She died in the 50’s?”

“30’s, actually. Right before I was moved to the Lotus Hotel.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, Nico.” Nico waved him off.

“It’s fine, I was little. There’s just… so much I wish I knew, you know?”

“For sure…” <i> Gods, this poor kid. </i> “Still, I’m sorry. You were just a kid.”

“Yeah, well. Anyway. My turn, right?”

Will could tell that conversation was over, so he nodded.

“What’s your tattoo?” Nico asked, to which Will smiled.

“It’s… here.” He pulled down his shirt enough for the sun to show. Nico leaned forward to get a closer look.

“It’s really pretty. I saw it on that first night after you showered. Why did you get it?”

“Lee Fletcher.”

“Lee Fletcher? Who’s that?”

And who was Lee Fletcher? Lee Fletcher was the man who meant everything to Will. He had a mom and two sisters, and no father. Lee Fletcher was the first guy in his life to act as a guardian to him. He was four years older and always acted as an older brother even before Will knew that Lee was a guy. Lee taught Will archery and how to talk to girls. Later, Lee would teach him to talk to boys. Lee was powerful and smart. He was so, so brave. He would heal people just by <i>singing</i> to them. He was everything that Will wanted to be.

After he died, Will was inconsolable. Of course, during the war he was fine. He was cool and collected: a healer, the child of Apollo. But after? He started sneaking out more, trying to escape everything and everyone. Started drinking more… that’s when he met Nathan. He knew that wasn’t the question, though. Lee Fletcher, the memory of Lee Fletcher, is what kept him going through the darkest time in his life. He owed the world to him.

“Lee Fletcher… well…”

[sams-sass]

Helpless

Hi! This is actually something I struggle with a lot and I wanted to write something that I hoped others could relate to as well. Thanks for all the love.

Summary: Everyone sees you as one thing, except one man.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Language, descriptions of killing (monsters), descriptions of self doubt, fluff.

------------------

Your hands were tight around your gun, aimed and ready. You licked your lips and slid across the room without making a sound. You cocked your gun and watched the muscles in his back stiffen. The shifter turned and looked directly at you, his mouth turning into an ugly smile.  

“Hey there sweetheart.” He said, tilting his head down and moving towards you.  

“I’m not your sweetheart.” Like most people in your life this monster had underestimated you. Your hunting skills, your intelligence. You gave him a smile, knowing it would throw him off track and then you took aim. You pulled the trigger, the bullet ripped into his heart. He fell to the floor quickly. You stood and moved his head with your foot, checking for any sign of life. Finding none you began to spread the gasoline around the small cabin. Standing outside on the lawn, you threw the lighter through the door and watched the flames licking at the walls. You folded your arms across your chest and felt the heat dance across your skin. It was times like this when you felt loneliest. After a successful hunt when the adrenaline was at its highest and you wanted to relish in the high with someone. You were strong. Really strong, but you still wanted someone to share your life with. Someone to make you smile, cry, laugh, who knew the ins and outs of you. It was something you thought about often. Something you sent into the night sky after each hunt. You climbed into your car and drove to the nearest town, leaving everything behind you. You checked into the motel and took a long shower. Moving your muscles under the warm water, watching the dirt and blood run down the drain. You slipped on your favorite jeans and top after your shower, running mascara over your eyelashes. You walked into the bar and sat down at the first stool you saw, looking around for the bartender. He walked over to you and eyed your whole body before his eyes connected with yours.  

“What will it be?” He asked you, his hands sliding across the bar as he leaned forward.  

“Whiskey, neat.” You answered, picking at a chip in the wood of the bar.  

“You got it, sweet thing.” He let his eyes trail down your body again, licking his lips. You internally groaned and curled inward from his gaze. You were pissed now and couldn’t stop the string of thoughts running through you. If I had a dollar for every time some asshat looked at me like I was here for his pleasure I would not be constantly surrounded by asshats. Because I would be on my own private island. Because I could afford one. Fuck this guy. I should just go get a bottle and drink in my room by myself. It would smell better that’s for sure.

You hated that bullshit. Hated when people called you things like sweetheart or sweet thing. You were a lot more than that. You liked to read, sing in the shower, watch movies, try lipstick, go to TJ Maxx, and buy jewelry. You also liked whiskey, burgers, and combat boots. You hated when people painted you into a box based on what you looked like. Based on how they thought you should act. What they thought you should like. You shook your head and drank your whiskey, trying not to think about the loneliness crawling up your bones.  

-------------------

Zach stood next to you, his forehead sweaty and his hands shaking slightly. The wendigo ran through the woods, branches and leaves surrendering under him. You held your flame thrower against your chest, ready to spring into action when needed. You leaned forward slightly to get a better look. Zach pushed you back against the tree, his arm coming across your chest. You let out a breath as your body slammed back against the tree.  

“Don’t move.” He whispered to you. Who the fuck was this guy? He wasn’t a hunter. You were here to save his skin. You rolled your eyes and leaned the other way, checking your surroundings. The wendigo ran past you again, closer this time. You could smell the stench of rot coming off him. You leaned back against the tree and took in a calming breath through your nose and out your mouth.  

“You gotta get out of here.” You turned to Zach, grabbing one of his shoulders.  

“What? No, I’m not leaving you here.” He looked around, squaring his shoulders. This whole macho act was getting old. You were already annoyed, and it had been about 20 minuets since the wendigo had shown up.  

“Zach, you don’t know what this thing is. It will rip you to shreds. Its fast, smart, and an incredible hunter. Go, I’ll handle it.” You flicked your head towards the edge of the woods, telling him where he should go.  

“I’m going to protect you, Y/N. You don’t have to worry with me around.” He nodded and locked eyes with you, letting out a breath. About a hundred thoughts raced through your mind in that second: What the fuck? This guy? No. Absolutely not. Protect me? This asshole is the one who needs protecting. Your thoughts were interrupted when the wendigo raced past the tree you were hiding behind. You could hear his teeth grinding together as he ran past, feel the disturbance in the air he created. Gotcha.  

“I don’t need you.” You shoved Zach out of the way and stepped forward, facing the wendigo head on. His skinny body with grey and leather like skin turned towards you. You cocked your flamethrower and without a second thought you blasted him. His whole body was engulfed in flames quickly. You turned back around to see Zach watching the flames take him. He was staring at you with an open mouth, he looked like a cartoon character. You stifled a laugh and lead him out of the woods. He crawled into his car and drove off without even a nod goodbye. Typical. Just because you were the one doing the saving and he had his balls busted he couldn’t even say thank you. You cracked your neck and moved to your car. Once again, the loneliness was seeping through your skin. You felt it dripping down your spine and racing through your blood. You ached for someone to see you as you were. Everyone saw you as helpless. They always tried to take over every situation, underestimating your abilities. When the feeling of emptiness was this deep, you found it best to avoid people at all costs. It usually got you in trouble when you decided to show people how tough you were. Zach was just another person who saw you for what's on the outside, even though all you did was show him what's on the inside.  You drove back to the motel and showered before collapsing in the bed and falling into a deep sleep.  

----------------

You were hiding in the nest. Your back against the wall, knees bent and arms steady. You heard the vamps talking around you, not even aware that you were there with them. There was a loud bang and two men barged into the room with machetes in their hands. Who in god's name were these two? One was tall with longer hair down around his chin. The other had shorter hair and a flannel that moved around as he swung his machete. Jesus take the wheel. These two morons were ruining your whole plan. Son of a bitch. You leaned down and checked again, they were losing bad. One was thrown to the ground, vamps on top of him. The other was held against the wall, vamps against his chest. You rolled your eyes and climbed down form your hiding spot. Not making a sound. You slid down the wall and rounded the corner, gun drawn. You made eye contact with the taller one, his head turning to look at you fully. He was against the wall, vamps at his throat.  

“Cover.” You mouthed to him. He scrunched his face before falling to his knees and covering his head with his arms. You took aim and with pristine precision you shot each vamp. One after another they turned towards you, running at you with hungry eyes. You shot all of them before they could cross the halfway point. You watched, hands still around your gun as they all crumpled to the floor. The dead man’s blood running through their veins quickly, taking them down. You pulled your machete out and began beheading the vamps one by one. The boys stood next to each other, sharing looks of bewilderment. Your machete sliced through the last vamp. You leaned your weight onto one hip, crossing your arms over your chest and stared at the two strangers.  

“Uh, I’ll ask. Who are you?” The shorter one asked you. His eyebrows were together on his forehead. You smirked at him before offering your hand.  

“Y/N.” You licked your lips as you looked in between the two. Shaking both of their hands.  

“I’m Dean, this is Sam. Thanks for uh saving our bacon.” Dean laughed as he said it, his eyes trailing down your body. Sam stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at you with a strange look on his face. You couldn’t quite decipher what it was, but no one had ever looked at you like that before.  

----------------

Sam was walking through the woods with Dean close behind him. They approached the old barn and pushed their way inside. The vamps quickly attacked, there were more of them then they had anticipated. Sam swung his machete as fast and as hard as he could, Dean doing the same next to him. The vamps were faster, pinning Dean to the ground quick and throwing Sam against the wall. Sam was pushing the vamps off him, feeling the energy being drained from his body when she showed up. Sam saw something out of the corner of his eye when she rounded the corner, gun drawn. She was beautiful, her steady hands were wrapped around the gun as her eyes scanned the room. She looked right at him and Sam felt his stomach drop a bit inside him. She mouthed ‘cover’ and Sam shot her a confused look before dropping to his knees. He heard the shots going off, chancing a glance from under his arm. Her bullets were aimed perfectly each time, deadly precision with each shot. The vamps slowed down and eventually dropped, falling to the floor with weakness. What the hell kind of bullets kill vamps?  She took out her own machete and beheaded each one before cleaning off the blade and storing it away. She then turned to look right at him and Dean. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned on one hip, looking between them.  

“Uh, I’ll ask. Who are you?” Dean asked, confusion written all over his face.  

“Y/N.” You answered, licking your lips and shaking both of their hands. Your skin was so smooth within Sam’s. He couldn’t stop saying your name repeatedly in his mind. He loved the way it sounded echoing in his head, how it danced across his tongue. Sam was completely wrapped up in you, your skills, your beauty, everything.  

“I’m Dean, this is Sam. Thanks for uh saving our bacon.” Sam didn’t miss that his brother’s eyes were moving across your body or that you seemed to be staring at Sam with confusion in your eyes. He smiled at you, feeling the admiration sweep over him.  

“All in a day’s work.” Your voice rang within Sam’s head making him dizzy.  

“Well, maybe we could buy you a drink. Swap stories.” Dean took a step towards her. Normally Sam would have rolled his eyes or stopped Dean, but you proved you could hold your own, so he waited. You bit your lip, looking away from them for a moment. Your eyes connected with Sam’s again, there was so much behind your eyes. You had a million stories floating within your eyes and Sam wanted to learn each one.  

“Yeah ok, one drink.” You nodded and made your way outside. The three of you lit the place on fire, sending smoke and ashes into the night sky. When the building was unsavable and all traces of you were gone, you all turned and climbed in your cars. You followed them to the closest bar and parked right next to them.  

---------------

You weren't sure why you had said yes to getting a drink with them. Dean clearly just wanted to get into your pants, and you were already exhausted. Then there was Sam. He seemed different, like he wanted to get to know you. To be honest, he was the only reason you were here.  

“What’s your poison?” Dean asked you, leaning forward on the table, his green eyes holding yours.  

“Whiskey, neat.” You relayed your order and straightened your back, waiting for the inevitable.  

“You are my kinda woman” He sent a charming smile your way. Here we go. Why do men say that like I’m going to faint from joy? He walked away leaving you alone with Sam.  

“So, I have to ask. Where did you get those vamp killing bullets?” Sam asked you, tilting his head in your direction. As you looked up at him, you realized how many different colors were dancing in his eyes.  

“I made them.” You answered, nodding. And here comes the shock and disbelief.

“That’s amazing! Did you use dead man's blood?” Your eyes shot to his again, you didn’t even register that Dean had placed your whiskey in front of you. Wait...does he believe me?

“Yeah, I made a chamber of glass within the bullet so when it hit the target it would explode. Sending the toxin throughout the body.” You explained, pulling out a bullet from a spare chamber in your bag. Sam placed his beer on the table and looked at it with curiosity and interest. His large hands handed it back to you. He smiled, showing dimples in his cheeks.  

“And so that’s why you aimed for the heart.” Sam nodded at you, his smile growing wider across his face.  

“Exactly.” You took a sip from your whiskey and cocked your head to the side.  

“That's absolutely brilliant. We could probably learn a lot from you.” He leaned back slightly in the booth. Did he just actually say that? Did I die in the vamp nest? He gave me credit for something? Holy shit.  

“Thank you, Sam. People often brush aside what I say and do. I often feel like I am overlooked.” You ran the tip of your middle finger over the rim of your glass, no longer interested in drinking.  

“Sam’s right, Y/N. You were great in there.” Dean smiled at you again. “I’m going to kick someone's ass in pool, see you guys in a bit.”  He grabbed his beer and was off, leaving you and Sam alone again. The air felt thicker around you and you swallowed, trying to get some moisture in your mouth.

-------------------

Sam sat across from you in the booth. Your legs occasionally touched in the small space, sending his heart racing. You were incredible. You were smart, skilled, and drop dead gorgeous. Sam found himself nervously rubbing the back of his neck whenever your eyes lingered on him for too long. You licked your lips and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, your eyes glancing up at him.  

“So, any idea where you are off to next?” Sam asked you, his fingers twisting the straw wrapper.  

“No, I'm not really sure what lies ahead for me. The life isn't something you can just quit, but lately I have been thinking about it. When there is no one to balance out the crazy it can be lonely.” You looked down at the table, and Sam could swear you were embarrassed.  

“I know what you mean. I have Dean and he’s great, but sometimes I find myself wondering if this is all I will ever be.” Sam was being completely honest and open with you. He wasn’t sure why he felt so at ease with you, but there was something about you that he felt totally in tune with.  

“Maybe we could look for a case together. I could teach you a thing or two.” You laughed together; you were twisting your glass between your hands as you spoke.  

“I think you could teach a lot of people a lot of things.” His smile was genuine across his face, touching his eyes for the first time in a long time.  

--------------------

You stared at him for a moment before collecting yourself. What the hell am I doing? What am I thinking? ‘oh, we can find a case together’. What the actual fuck, Y/N? I mean sure he’s hot, and nice, and smart, and he’s the first person who has actually listened to you. But no!  

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly, causing the table to move. You ran outside, taking in large gulps of the cold November air into your lungs. You looked up at the night sky, the tears pricking your eyes as your mind swam with thoughts. What is this? I never felt like this. I have always been strong, not some girl who falls for some nice arm muscles. That’s just it though, I don’t feel weak like I thought I would. No, I have never felt stronger. I have never felt more at ease than when talking to Sam. What is wrong with me?  

“Y/N?” You heard Sam’s voice say your name and a tingle ran up your spine. You turned and faced him.  

“Sam.” Your voice was breathy in the quiet night.  

“I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing. I was enjoying talking to you.” Sam took a step towards you. He placed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head down, looking at you. You gulped down your nerves and decided to be honest with this perfect stranger.  

“I’m sorry, Sam. I was enjoying talking to you too. I honestly got a little nervous, people always see me as this helpless damsel in distress and so it’s easy to push them away. Then you...you didn’t see me that way and I wasn’t sure what to do. So, I left.” You were twisting your hands together, refusing to look into his eyes.  

“What? Y/N, I don’t know why anyone would consider you helpless. I just met you and I can tell how great of a hunter you are. You don’t need anyone, but that doesn’t mean you need to be lonely. I would like to get to know you better.” You were staring at him now; his eyes were sincere, and his words were running through your mind on a continuous loop.  

“I would like that too, Sam.” You took a step towards him and bit down on your bottom lip.  

You no longer had to wash down the lonely nights with whiskey and forgetfulness. You and Sam conquered together with swinging weapons and blazing guns. In the nights filled with adrenaline and heat, Sam was there to catch you on your way down from your high. In the times of peace, he was there to light your soul on fire. In the agony and violence, he was a beacon of light and serenity. You played off each other perfectly. You never felt helpless again, instead you never felt stronger. Having your other half, your balance brought a harmony to your life that you never thought you would have.

[waywardrose13]

Crimson Leaves- Chapter One: Croatoan

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Crimson Leaves- Zombie Apocalypse AU mini series

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The dead have risen. Amid a global pandemic that causes the dead to prowl the Earth, a leader of a small camp in North Carolina fights for survival. Y/N Y/L/N was certain of three things: One, only a bite would turn you. Two, the brain must be destroyed in order to completely kill the thing. Three, trust no one. When a stranger is brought to her camp half alive, Y/N must make the decision to throw him to the walkers, or let the mystery man heal within the gates. As Dean Winchester recovers from a zombie attack, he worms his way into the camp, and eventually into Y/N’s heart. Love is a dangerous game, especially when it’s played with the dead.

Warnings: Angst, language, zombie apocalypse, talk of sex, talk of injuries, zombie attack. Not enough editing to satisfy me. I need a beta lol

Word Count: 4,600 on the dot baby

A/N- Hey, look at that. My first AU series. I hope y’all enjoy! Also written for @spnaubingo​ (Square filled: Free Space) // @spndeanbingo​ (Square filled: Free space)

Tags are still open until next Wednesday before the second chapter is posted (5/27/20 by noon). Send me an ask for a tag:)

The camp was silent.

The sun had not yet risen, the sky still dark and full of stars overhead, everyone still asleep in their tents and cabins. Y/N knew people would be waking soon, the early birds up and ready to go around five thirty. The first of the days’ jobs would begin at six, and soon after, the whole camp would be up and going.

Which is why Y/N left at four.

Before the whole world went to shit and the dead began to rise, she was never a morning person. She loved the late night hours. There was something so calming about the night. Most people were asleep or falling asleep, yet she would be up under the moon. She would sleep late in the day and work well into the night.

That is, until the world went to shit, of course.

At the beginning, most people thought it was some sort of widespread hysteria. Videos began to surge around the internet of people, seemingly dead people, up and walking, half rotting and in decay. It wasn’t until more and more people began to turn did everyone realize it was real.

Once people began to turn, everything went to hell. The internet soon shut down since web servers and power plants were no longer being worked on. Some areas still had electricity through turbines and solar panels, however major cities had gone dark. Whole towns were abandoned, others ridden with the dead. Bottled water was a life source. Unless an area had well pumps. If you were in one place for a while and there was no risk of zoms, boiling water was also a way to get drinking water. But it was tedious to boil and then let it cool before having to move again.

There were three things Y/N was absolutely certain. One, a single bite could turn you. Scratches don’t matter, unless they get infected, because unless you have antibiotics, you’re dead. The only thing that will kill you and inevitably turn you is a bite. Or, if you somehow die after getting scratched, whether it be infection or a fucking bear attack, you’ll turn. 

Two, a shot to the head is the only way to absolutely kill it. Since they’re already dead, any sort of lethal wound or dismemberment won’t kill it. But for some bizarre reason, they still need their rotted brain. So unless you want to turn, a shot to the head will do it.

Finally, number three. Don’t trust anyone. If you were the type of person to not be so trusting before the apocolypse, congragu-fuckin-lations, you’re all set. No one is trustworthy out there. One minute you find a breather, thinking you’ll be working together to stay alive, the next minute they’re stabbing you in the back to steal your supplies. Literally.

It’s survival of the fittest. Risks are the only thing that could both keep you alive or kill you. Unfortunately, anything you do in the apocalypse is a risk. The only way to stay a breather is by sticking to yourself.

Y/N didn’t follow her own rules.

She had been alone for the first two years. She hopped from town to town, hunkering down in abandoned homes, barricading herself in for days. Once the town was ridden with walkers, she’d bounce to another, repeating the cycle over and over. She didn’t know exactly what happened to her family. Her family home was empty except for the few walkers on the property. She had hope that they were alive somewhere, but she knew that wasn’t likely. Still, she kept hope that they were still alive and kicking, maybe in a camp of their own. 

She had barely turned nineteen before the apocalypse. The college she had been attending was a couple hours from home. By the time she made it there, her family was already gone.

Now at twenty-three, Y/N found herself hardened and impermeable. 

She had met a small group of breathers in an empty town down somewhere in North Carolina. They invited her back to their camp. Y/N didn’t trust them of course, but she was starving and on the brink of death. They gave her food, a proper bed, even a damn cold shower. She came to realize the camp was a good one, the people kind and giving, the leaders looking out for their own. So she stayed.

She had quickly become a fond face in the camp. She worked for her spot there, becoming a runner. The runners were the ones who went out for supplies each day. The camp itself was from an old sports sleep-away camp for highschoolers. There weren’t enough cabins for everyone, so the leaders, runners, elders, and families with small children inhabited them. One was only for medical, a makeshift clinic run by an ex veterinarian. The kitchens were in another building near the locker rooms, and the farms were out in the fields. Y/N had been given the rundown after she was taken to the camp. Fences were built by the founders of the camp, traps set all around the perimeter to catch walkers. There was 24 hour surveillance, armed guards standing at posts in the trees all throughout the day, taking shifts.

When Y/N had first arrived, there were only eight people in the camp, including an old acquaintance of hers from college. However, she worked to recruit people, along with the other runners, and after a year of her living at the camp, the number grew to nearly one hundred. She had shown strong leadership skills on the runs, being promoted quickly by the founders to runner one, head of runners. 

The founders had gone out in search of more camps with a few of the other runners one day, and never returned. After a few days, one of the founders was seen out in the woods, an arm missing and intestines pouring from his abdomen.

A unanimous vote was taken and Y/N was elected leader of the entire camp. 

And here she was, sneaking out of the camp at four in the morning in order to go on a supply run. She was no longer runner one, or a runner for that matter, but she still went out in search for supplies. People would give her lists of what they were in dire need of, and she would find it. As leader of the camp, she felt as though it was her duty to still go out and do what needed to be done. Runners would get things that would benefit the camp as a whole, but there were people who needed specific things. A family was nearly out of baby formula. A woman needed a pregnancy test. One man was nearly dead from asthmatic fits. 

Y/N followed the marked trail into town. Small flowers had been plucked from the forest and planted in a way that runners would know where to go. Walkers weren’t common around the camp. Traps kept most of them away and the camp itself was deep in Pisgah National Forest. The city of Brevard was located at the entrance of the forest. It took about ten miles to get there, nearly four hours on foot with the mountainous terrain. However, hidden within the confines of the trees two miles from camp was a Jeep. Runners used the Jeep to get to town quicker, keeping it far enough from camp that if there were any walkers that followed the sound, they’d be caught by the traps set before they could even make it to the Jeep itself.

Although the camp was protected, the occasional walker would still be spotted. The fences kept them out of the grounds, but the rotting hominids would frighten the residents. Guns were only fired in dire situations for two reasons; amount of ammunition and the sound. Guards were armed with both guns and bows. Crossbows were the most resourceful, but harder to find. Longbows were higher in availability. A few compound bows were scored during a couple runs as well. Archery was a needed skill for both guards and runners. There would be the occasional runner who was bitten or an elder who passed simply of old age. Sometimes infection. But it was a rarity in the camp for anyone to pass on. Most people were younger, under the age of fifty, and the elders were all in great shape physically and internally. 

Again, survival of the fittest. Natural selection had taken its course early on.

Once Y/N made it into the Jeep, she fit her arm through the bow and ducked her head through it, allowing it to go cross-body. A pistol sat on her lap and her rifle was slung over her shoulder onto her back. She started the Jeep, wincing as it roared to life, and took off towards town.

It didn’t take her long to get there, and she quickly put the Jeep in park beside the department store she and the runners frequented. The store was picked clean for the most part. Food had been taken immediately, along with toilet paper, paper towels, and basic hygienic necessities. The shelves barely had anything, however the storage in the back of the store was plentiful. Seemed as though even during the apocalypse, people hadn’t thought to go back there. Maybe it was their subconsious morals, or simply were too dumb to think of it. Y/N’s morals had drastically changed during the time of the walkers, and she had a whole camp to think about.

She wondered what the camp would do once the back storage was picked clean as well. She didn’t want to think of that, knowing she’d have to venture further into the city. The first half was relatively empty, the other half, not so much. The retirees and blokes that were unfortunate enough to fail to get out of town continued to inhabit that part of the city. The camp had already lost three runners in their expedition to the “dark side.” She didn’t want to lose anyone else.

She unzipped her backpack and began her search of items. She grabbed a few pregnancy tests, four boxes of formula, and other basic necessities she knew people were starting to run low on. Her bag wasn’t too big, but she was able to fit a good amount of toiletries and the items on her requested list before she made her way to the pharmacy.

Like the rest of the store, the pharmacy had been ransacked. Cold and cough medicines, pain medicines, and anything of the sort was nowhere to be found anymore. However, a couple Albuterol inhalers were found within the mess of pill bottles and medication boxes. Y/N also grabbed a thing of eczema cream she had found. She knew a child in section one began to break out in a bad rash, and a rash of her own had begun to creep up on the backs of Y/N’s knees and the dips of her elbows.

Once her bag was packed to the brim, she zipped it up carefully.

Something crashed somewhere in the store.

Y/N jumped, immediately slinging her bag onto her back and unbuckling the buckle of her gun sash, holding it out in front of her. Her bow was hidden in the seat of the Jeep, and a gun would be easier to use in a store anyway. Walkers were never found inside, nor were people. No one ever came down this way and the doors were barricaded so only people could figure out how to get in.

She heard more clattering in the distance. Y/N slowly began to make her way towards the exit, ears and eyes on alert. She had her knees bent in case she needed to run, gun ready to be cocked and fired. Once she made it to the front of the store, she noticed one of the barricades had been pulled apart but not put back together. Not a runner from camp, however Y/N didn’t think a walker would be smart enough to pull apart a barricade.

She didn’t want to stick around to find out. She needed to get back to camp and begin the days’ duties and scheduling.

Slipping out the door, she rushed to the Jeep, starting it up quickly and peeling out of town and into the forest. She followed the road, turning off it once she reached the two miles till camp mark. She parked and turned off the Jeep a little ways off the main road, reapplying the branches and leaves over the Jeep, before heading deeper into the forest, following the flower marked path.

The gates were opened for her once she got to camp, closed and latched once inside, and she let out a deep breath.

Safe and sound.

By the time she had finished dropping off the requested items and toiletries, it was around seven. Residents of the camp began to wake as the sun rose. The first runners were suiting up and laying out their game plan. Y/N was getting ready for the daily meeting in the compound’s “control center.”

“How’d the run go today, Lord Commander?”

Y/N let out a sigh. She turned around from the map she was currently marking, narrowing her eyes at the man who had just walked in.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Luke grinned. “And I thought I told you that it was your own fault for giving me the books in the first place. Now you gotta deal with it.” He reached over to ruffle her hair, eliciting a groan from the woman he was teasing. “Besides, you love it. You just act like you don’t.”

A smile hinted on Y/N’s face. “Okay, yeah I do.”

Luke laughed, taking his seat at the table. “Where’s the rest of the watch?”

Y/N checked the clock hung up on the wall. It was dusty and cracked, but worked just fine with fresh batteries. Batteries weren’t easy to come by, but she had stacks of them in the cabinets within the command center.

“They should start arriving soon. If not, fuck ‘em. We’ll start the meeting without them.”

Luke shrugged, reaching into his jeans pocket for a cigarette. He lit it, took a long drag, and blew the smoke over the map. He held it out to Y/N, who shook her head in decline.

“Mornin’ campers!”

“Hey, Steve.”

A tall man with a long red beard and curly strawberry hair ducked into the cabin. A wide grin was on his face, long arms outstretched. “How are we this fine morning?”

Luke let out another puff of smoke. “Tired and horny.”

Y/N’s face screwed up. “Oh, Luke- come on.”

Steve chuckled. “I heard ya, brother.” 

“What, you and Lana haven’t done anything for awhile?” Luke asked.

“Ran outta condoms,” Steve said. “Medical said that condoms are first come first serve. They’re clean out of them. So uh, Y/N, might wanna talk to your runners about that.”

“They do the best they can,” she said, marking a few things on the map. “Just do it yourself and be done with it.”

“It’s not that simple,” Luke said. “Now I know you don’t get it since you’re the Virgin Mary-”

“Hey!”

“-But sex is different than just whackin’ off,” Luke said. He held his hands up as a, ‘what can I say’ gesture. “Humans are sexual beings. I don’t know how you have gone so long without getting any.”

“I was nineteen when all this shit started and I had never had a boyfriend, and I don’t exactly have time to find a partner now.”

“Uh, hello?” Luke said. He gestured to himself, raising a brow. “Willing participant right here.”

Y/N made a face. “No thank you.”

Luke frowned. “Oh why not? I’m great at sex!”

“No he’s not.”

A new voice chimed in. A pale head of hair ducked into the cabin. Taller than the majority of the men in camp, Alice grinned down at Y/N, giving her a pat on the shoulder as she took a seat at the table beside Luke. He gave her a hurt look.

“I mean, he’s not bad,” Alice said. “But he’s not as good as he says he is.”

“Wow,” Luke said. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Alice shrugged. “I wasn’t. I hadn’t gotten any dick in months. You’re good, just not great.”

Luke smirked. “Wanna help me get better?”

Alice raised a brow. “Seriously? You just asked Y/N to bang, now you’re asking me?”

“Smooth, dude,” Steve said, finally taking his seat.

Luke went bright pink, looking at both women sheepishly. “I mean… yeah?”

Alice took a deep breath, staring at him for a moment. “Alright, fine.”

He perked up. “Wait really?”

“Yeah, why not,” she said. She gave Y/N a look, the leader chuckling behind her hand. Steve gave Luke a fist bump, Alice rolling her eyes.

“Where’s Mikela and Richard?” Luke suddenly asked. Mikela, who was now runner one, and Richard, head of medical facilities, were missing from the meeting. Y/N checked the clock again, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know,” she said. “They’re never late.”

Alice pulled her curls back into a bun. “Maybe someone from the run this morning had an accident?”

Y/N shook her head. “They’re supposed to report to me immediately after getting medical,” she said. “The first runners should’ve returned half an hour ago.”

That’s when the horn blew.

One blow means a runner (or runners) approaching. Two blows means stray breather. And three blows means a walker.

There was one blow, and two blows thirty seconds later. Which meant both runner and breather.

The group within the cabin jogged out to the front gates, wondering what the hell was going on. Not only were the runners extremely late, but they had a newcomer with them. Newcomers were to be inspected of bites and interrogated outside the gates. Mikela was runner one, she knew this, yet she disregarded the rules anyway.

“This better be good,” Alice muttered.

As the group approached the gate, they noticed Mikela, runner three and runner six, Matthew and Gary, carrying in a man half unconscious.

“We could use some help over here!” Mikela barked. Alice and Steve immediately ran over to help the others, Luke staying back with Y/N. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked.

“Found a breather outside the warehouse on our run,” Matthew said. “Zoms surrounded ‘im. He was barely fightin’ ‘em off by the time we got to ‘im.” His voice was shaky, his southern accent more prominent when he was anxious. “We loaded ‘im into the Jeep and brought ‘im back here.”

“He’s got a serious gash on his torso,” Mikela said. “If we don’t get it sewn up, he’ll die, and he’ll just be another addition to their fuckin’ army of the dead.”

Y/N let out a deep breath, brows slightly furrowed in thought. “Get Richard to inspect him. Don’t do anything until he does.” She looked pointedly at Richard. “I mean it, Rich. Make sure he’s not bitten.”

“Whada we do if he’s bit?” Matthew asked.

Y/N’s eyes flashed to the Georgian. “Shoot him.”

“Boss-”

“I said shoot him,” Y/N interrupted Gary. “It’s like Mikela said. If he’s bit, he’ll just turn into one of them. So if he’s infected, take him out to the woods and put a bullet in his head.”

Gary swallowed thickly, a solemn silence washing over the group. The ones with the mystery man quickly shuffled to the medic cabin. 

“The rest of you.” Y/N addressed the other runners and guards. A couple of the farmers and cooks watched on. “You know your duties. Get to work.”

Murmurs were heard throughout the small crowd, people scattering to do their daily duties. Luke looked up at Y/N.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Y/N,” he said. “I know that the world has changed you- changed everyone… but you were always so gentle.”

Y/N looked at the ground for a moment, before squinting her eyes up at the sky. “Yeah well. If you wanna survive-” she looked over her shoulder at her comrade “-you’d be more lethal too.”

Without another word, Y/N turned away, trekking back towards the command cabin, wondering just how much she had lost herself.

***

By midday, the sun was hot and blaring. Y/N stood out on the porch of her cabin, arms crossed, leaning against the railing of the steps. She watched as children laughed and played. She watched the farmers tend to the gardens down in the fields. Her eyes wandered up to the guards standing on duty up in the towers. The parents of the children sat outside their cabins, reading, knitting, or simply enjoying the sun. Singles either relaxed in the cool of their tents or tended to their duties for the camp.

It was peaceful. It was the only place she knew was completely safe from zoms, where for a second, she wasn’t Y/N the leader, or runner, or fierce warrior. She was simply Y/N.

“Hey boss.”

Y/N inwardly sighed at the break of peace. It was Matthew, a somber look on his face. 

“What is it?” Y/N asked. The unfolded her arms, stepping down the stairs onto the ground.

“The breather we found- he’s waking up. Bite free,” he told her. “Figured you’d wanna talk to ‘im.”

Y/N gave Matthew a nod, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, lead the way.”

Matthew led Y/N through the camp. People waved and said hello to them both as they passed. It was hot. The days were typically mild during this time of year, however the air had turned a fierce eighty-nine degrees. Save for the fields, the camp was covered in trees, however the mugginess below the leaves still left beads of sweat on Y/N’s brow and covered her skin in a sheer layer of moisture.

Matthew jogged up the steps to the medic cabin, Y/N following suit, ducking inside as he held open the door for her. At the sound of footsteps, the inhabitants of the cabin, save for the man lying on the cot, stood as their leader entered.

“Lord Commander,” Luke murmured. The man on the cot quirked a brow, staring at the woman who had just walked in.

Y/N turned to Richard, the medic taking off a pair of latex gloves.

“Matthew said he was clean,” she stated.

“No bites as far as I can tell,” Richard said. “Dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs, and a deep laceration on his abdomen. If the runners hadn’t gotten him here when they did, he’d be dead.”

“He’s stable? I don’t want him turning in the camp, Rich,” Y/N said. Her voice was low and authoritative. The man on the cot continued to gaze at her.

“He’s stable,” Richard confirmed. “He’ll have to be here for a few days for observation. After that, we can move him to the wing. A week later, he could have a tent.”

Y/N hummed, glancing over at the man. Her breath hitched in her throat as she did. 

He was incredibly handsome, one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Green eyes locked with hers, freckles dusting over tanned skin. A beard covered the man’s face, brown with almost a ginger tint to it. His hair was light brown, slightly spiked from sleep. His lips were full and pink, a hint of a smirk gracing them as he noticed her stare.

Snapping herself out of it before anyone else noticed her staring, Y/N gripped the back of a chair, swinging it around to face her, sitting in it with her arms up on the back, facing the newcomer.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Dean,” the man answered.

“What’s your full name?” Y/N asked.

“Dean Winchester.”

“You got a camp?”

“Nope. I’m a lone ranger.”

Y/N hummed. “What were you doing out by the warehouse.”

“Scouting,” Dean replied. “Needed some more ammo. Was running low on fresh water and batteries.”

Y/N cocked her head. “Zoms typically aren’t found in that part of town. Did you do something to attract them?”

“May have set off a car alarm trying to hotwire it,” Dean said.

“Moron.” Y/N heard Luke mutter under his breath. She shot him a glare.

“So what, you got what you needed and got jumped on your way out?”

“Yep,” Dean said. “Didn’t notice them at first. Then I was surrounded. Tried shooting at them, but there were too many. By the time your friends got there, I thought I was dead.��

Y/N thought for a moment. “You got a criminal record?”

Dean scoffed. “Few charges but nothing major.”

“Like what?” Gary asked.

Dean shrugged. “Couple of fights in my early twenties. I had a brother who I was very protective over. Got charged but never convicted. So technically yes,” he said. “Like I said, nothing major.”

“Got any other family?”

“Besides my brother, no.” Dean answered. “Don’t know where he is. He could be dead for all I know. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-three,” Dean said. “How old are you?” He sent Y/N a wink.

“I’ll be asking the questions,” Y/N told him. “If we were to let you stay, would your strengths be better as a runner or a guard?”

Dean thought for a moment. “A guard.”

She sighed. “Look, we’ve got kids and families here. You get violent? You’re out. But we need the extra help. You seem strong. You fought off a pack of zoms and survived. You could be a valuable asset.”

Dean thought for a moment. “Has it occurred to you there may be a reason as to why I was a lone ranger?”

Y/N hummed, standing from her seat. She folded her arms over her chest.

“Far as I can tell, you didn’t fare too well at the end of your solo ride. Way I see it, you need security and you need a team,” she said. “You don’t wanna stay? Fine. As soon as you’re up and running, you can waltz your ass out of camp.”

She took a step toward him. “But if not, I’m Y/N. I’m the leader of the camp. You have any business, take it up with me or Luke, my second in command.” She nodded her head towards the freckled blond behind her. “Once you’re better, you’ll become a guard. You’ll have your own tent and designated locker in the men’s locker rooms near the farm. The locker rooms also have toilet stalls and showers, both with running water. You will get three meals a day and a shower everyday after your shift. If you have any sort of medical conditions, you’ll bring it up with Richard here. He’s in charge of all medications. If anything were to happen to you to impair your health or disable you while you’re on duty, you’ll be relieved of your duties and allowed to live the rest of your days within the camp. However, all incidents will be investigated. If we find you have self sabotaged, you’re out of here, got it?”

Dean gave her a nod. “You got it, Chief. Seems I’ll be sticking around then.”

Y/N smiled at him. “Great. Welcome to Camp Roanoake Dean.”

Chapter Two

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[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 9)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But   fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: long time no see!!!! Here’s the new update^^ ive been on summer vacation for a few weeks now and unmotivated to write since this is the first time in a while i can really rest but ive been playing a lot of mysme and watching a lot of tv lmaooo

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

What does this mean?

Your thoughts are jumbled together as Baekhyun falls asleep against your chest. His soft whimpers and twitches are comforting almost in the quiet of the room. This isn’t the first time that he’s fallen asleep before you after a night together, but it is the first that he’s fallen asleep like this.

Curled around you, against your chest, breaths puffing out softly against your skin.

You can recall countless times you’ve woken up in bed with him, at opposite ends of the bed, not touching any more than absolutely necessary. Pissed off at any little sound or movement that he would make in dreamland. Bothered by the feeling of sweaty skin touching your own once the lust has faded to nothing.

It’s a startling comparison to how you feel now, but there’s no part of you that feels bothered by it.

You let your fingers run through his soft dark hair absentmindedly. It doesn’t take long for you to be lulled asleep by the feeling of warmth surrounding you and the soft snores filling your room.

~~~

The tension doesn’t go away.

The arguing doesn’t stop.

Better yet, it amplifies.

“If you step foot in my quarters without permission again, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Do you want to test me?” There’s a smirk fighting to break out as you say the words. He takes another step forward and you feel your heart rate picking up at the excitement visible in his eyes.

Jongin steps between you. “Please, can you not fight today? You guys have been going at it every day. We’re tired.”

You blink and look at the man amusedly. He looks genuinely exasperated standing in front of his captain like this. “Would you rather I fight with you?” You take a step towards him and watch excitedly as he takes a surprised step back and pink flushes across his cheeks. You feel playful, but it seems as though Jongin doesn’t fully realize it.

Baekhyun pushes Jongin behind him. You can still see the color on his cheeks as he ducks his head down behind Baekhyun. “Don’t flirt with my first mate!”

“You flirt with mine!” you state with a scoff.

Junmyeon blinks at your words from where he emerges from the kitchens. You cast him an accusatory glance and he shrugs before turning away and resuming his duties. You know that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, being called out for flat out flirting with Baekhyun, but you’ve still decided to give them both shit for it. They’re both naturally touchy, they can’t help it. Once Baekhyun finally got over whatever was making him pissy at Junmyeon, the two have become quick friends. Close friends.

A bit too close for your own liking –if you’re honest with yourself.

Minseok takes it upon himself to grab you by the arm and drag you away with a pointed look in Baekhyun’s direction. You let him pull you to the hull and wave away Ten at the wheel without a word.

He doesn’t seem exasperated by the arguing as he did the last time he pulled you aside, but you still expect a lecture of some kind from him. You won’t be the one to break the silence in fear of getting a talk like that of the one in the infirmary all those days ago.  

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you blankly. “Do you think that you might want to go back to doing your job now, Captain?”

“I am doing my job,” you throw back easily. His lip twitches but he doesn’t bother to humor you with any kind of response outside of a disbelieving chuckle. He turns around and you watch him walk off and grab Baekhyun by the back of the neck with a squeeze so hard that it nearly brings the younger to his knees. Minseok whispers harshly into his ear and Baekhyun nods rapidly in agreement to whatever he’s being told. It takes a full 5 seconds of you watching the scene to realize what you’re doing.

Nothing.

Maybe Minseok was right. You should go back to doing your job.

You settle at the unoccupied wheel of your ship and look out in the distance at the empty expanse of water ahead. At this point in the journey, you only know to continue sailing forward until there is a sign of Isla de Sirena. Truthfully, you wish that your crew could avoid this trial entirely.

After the first one, the storm that almost claimed your life and your ship, you fear for the state of the Storm Chaser and your men in the face of what are essentially evil mermaids. Unfortunately, the only way to advance on to the third and final trial is to face each one before it head on. There’s no shortcut in the return back to Atlantis, but fuck do you wish there was.

This time, you hope that Junmyeon is able to use his song a bit more helpfully so that you aren’t nearly killed again.

It hasn’t even been 2 weeks since the storm and your embrace with death.

You hear the sound of boots against wood and feel a presence behind you. A glance to the side and you see Junmyeon stopping a few feet from your right with his eyes trained out on the horizon.

“Junmyeon?”

He blinks a few times as if clearing his mind from a stupor. Something about the look in his eyes worries you.

“I…I don’t have a good feeling about where we’re heading.”

Your eyebrows pull together in concern. You feel as though you may need to talk to Junmyeon in private, but you can’t do that at the helm. You look over the ship for someone to take your place.

“Sehun!” you shout across the ship once you spot the man. Sehun turns from his conversation with Jongin by the entrance to the crew cabins at the sound of his name. You motion him over. He jogs up to you immediately and you step away from the wheel. “Can you steer for a while?” you ask. He frowns slightly but nods in agreement. Sehun looks between you and Junmyeon, who has turned back to staring off with a sort of glazed look in his eyes, with worry.

You grab at your first mate’s arm and pull him off to the side where you can talk to him out of earshot of anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper once the panic clouding over his eyes disappears yet again. You don’t like the way he’s acting.

He shakes his head at your words. “The tune of the song is off. There’s something wrong about the song,” he says softly, fearfully.

“What do you mean? Are we not going the right way?”

“No it’s not that, we are…I’m still sure we are. I just…” His eyes lose focus just behind you; you squeeze his arm to bring his attention back to you. You frown at the blank expression on his face. “We should be extra cautious of what’s to happen next…”

His behavior and words fill you with unease. For Junmyeon to be so out of it is abnormal –extremely so. Of anyone on the ship, he’s always the most aware of everything going on at any point in time.

And he was fine earlier.

“Do you need to lie down for a bit? You’re kind of scaring me,” you admit. When he blinks again and his look is suddenly clear and focused, you shudder.

“No, we all need to be on high alert. We’ll come across Isla de Sirena at any moment from now to tomorrow. We only know the general location of the island, and that doesn’t help us out very much-”

“Captain!” You whirl around at the frantic voice. Yeri pants as she runs up to you. “Captain,” she gasps out again through desperate inhales of air. “We see something up ahead!”

You catch the way Junmyeon swallows nervously before you make your way back to the hull where Sehun is still steering. You squint out ahead of the ship.

You see nothing.

“Where’s my telescope?” You bark out. You scan the deck of your ship to find a few of your men at the bow, surrounding Baekhyun with your telescope up to his eye.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell him not to use my shit…”

Yeri flushes at your side. “I’ll...uh… I’ll go get it from him Captain,” she says apologetically before jogging away to the huddle of people trying to catch sight of whatever has been…sighted.

Yeri taps on Baekhyun’s shoulder and waits until he investigates who has disrupted him, before she snatches the device directly from his hand. You watch as he stares at her retreating figure with an offended look at her curt behavior. You smile proudly to yourself. When Yeri returns to your side and your telescope is back in your possession, you catch Baekhyun’s eyes and flick him off.

He sends you a finger back with an upwards twitch of the corner of his mouth.

You turn your attention back to Yeri before he can catch sight of you own lips itching to break out in a smile. “What’s the report?” you ask, bringing your telescope up to your eye so that you can find what has caused the commotion on the ship.

“It seems as though we will be approaching the island within the next few hours,” Yeri starts. You’re finally able to train your sights on a mass of land. It is small, even taking the distortion from how far away it is into account. The ship could easily just go around it.

You lower your telescope.

“Sehun, can we just go around the island?” you question.

“No!” Sehun says loudly just as Junmyeon nearly screams the same. You look back and forth between them in confusion.

“We can’t go around it. We can’t,” Junmyeon’s voice shakes as he says it, eyes wide with fright.

Your mouth opens at his fear shrouded expression, but no words come out.

Sehun cuts in to save you the trouble of trying to figure out why your first mate looks so terrified. “The island may look small, but that's because that is the only part that you can see. There are rocks and reefs that stretch out for miles on either side of it. They’re just hidden enough to be invisible from a distance, but it’s nearly impossible to maneuver around them. The ship would crash if we tried to go around at this point.”

“There’s a passage in the middle of the island that is large enough for a ship to sail through without problem,” Chanyeol’s voice booms from behind you. Confusion paints your face as you try to figure out where the hell he appeared from.

You try to figure out the reliability of going directly through the island versus around it. “Is it safe?”

Chanyeol sighs heavily at your question. “No, but it’s faster than trying to dodge reef and rock and inevitably crashing by going around.”

You swallow at the prospect of your ship crashing from something as dumb and avoidable as coral. “Alright, so we’ll sail through the island. That’s fine; that was the initial plan.” You speak mainly to yourself, trying to reason with the part of you that fears this will end horribly. Junmyeon’s behavior, the conveniently placed passage in the middle of the island, it doesn’t bode well.

“Sehun, you can navigate it?”

“As long as it’s through the island and not around, I can get us through safely.”

“May Poseidon be merciful…”

~~~

The first tendrils of music begin to float around the ship once you have sailed an hour closer to the island. Isla de Sirena is still too far in the distance for music to logically be able to reach your ears.

The song is beautiful, tinkling and melodic. Alluring, but it makes your skin crawl regardless of the beauty of it. It’s haunting, the harmonies, the mix of voices.

It makes you a bit dizzy.

You climb down the stairs to the main deck and walk over to the side of the ship to peer into the water. For the music to be reaching you, the sirens must be closer to you than they seem. As you expected, you can see movement beneath the waves.

Squinting, you try to make out whether the movement is just that of normal fish or of mystical creatures trying to drag your ship to the depths. Whatever it is, is too quick for you to clearly see.

You’re yanked away from the railing with a force that makes you stumble backward over your own feet. You collide clumsily into a disturbingly familiar chest.

You can feel one hand on your wrist and the other curled around your shoulder.

“Stay away from the edge of the ship. If they catch sight of you then they can shift themselves into your lookalike,” Baekhyun says against you, voice vibrating in his chest against your back. You twist your head to look at the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Embarrassment floods your veins at the intimate contact and you shrug yourself out of his hold. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Keep away from the sides of the ship. We keep moving forward no matter what,” Baekhyun commands to your crew. Frozen in their spots, looks are thrown your way as if asking whether or not to follow his words.

You shrug. This isn’t your area of expertise. “You heard him, full sail ahead,” you call out. Your words snap everyone into action as members work to keep away from the edges of the ship while continuing to do their jobs.

It’s not long before the music gets louder, more insistent and the island is visible to the naked eye. It’s distracting, but you will not fall a fool to its melody. “Keep your minds clear! Do not trust anything that you may see outside of the Storm Chaser herself,” you shout as you walk around ensuring that things are going smoothly. You have to keep yourself busy to keep from listening too closely to the tune.

The call of the sirens starts to affect the members of your crew the closer the ship veers towards land. The younger crewmen are the most susceptible to the melody as their senses are blurred and beautiful images are projected in the waters. 3 members have to be forcefully dragged below deck as they’re caught, zombie-like, walking to the edge of the vessel hypnotized and willing to throw themselves into the sea.

They don’t seem to realize what’s wrong even as others try to explain to them that it’s just an illusion. You warned the crew ahead of time, but to see the siren song impacting your men so easily is frightening.

“Mom? Mom!?”

The music has dulled down to a faint buzz in the back of your mind, but you have a feeling that it must still be loud, if not louder, to others. Johnny struggles to restrain one of your newest boatswains, Lucas from jumping into the water. There are tears in the boy’s eyes as he screams out for his mother, eyes wide and hands reaching towards the waters. When you follow where he’s desperately trying to escape to with your eyes, you see a grotesque creature atop a rock peaking out of the ocean. It’s mouth is open in song, a grin so large on its face that it’s sharp teeth gleam in the light.

A siren.

Its skin is a shade of grey so dark that you dare liken it to a dark blue. Torn fins stretch between skinny fingers. Spikes made of its own bone protrude from its back and undulate with every note that floats from its mouth. You feel sick at the sight of it.

Lucas continues to scream towards the siren in anguish. Your heart hurts watching him look out at the monster with all the sadness, love, and regret you know that he had for his mother. You all know that his mother died earlier in the year, and that he hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye.

The sirens have already begun to resort to despicably low tactics.

Chanyeol runs over to help pull Lucas below deck as he thrashes against Johnny’s arms in an attempt to crawl overboard. You turn away, unable to watch the scene any longer. You know that with the two of them, they’ll be able to get Lucas safely below deck and calmed down.

Sehun is still at the hull, intensely focused ahead as he tries to safely keep the ship moving forward while trying to ignore the call of the sirens. As soon as the ship enters the passage that splits the island in half, the music stops.

You look around in confusion at the sudden silence, and only feel the feeling deepen at the sight of some of your crewman covering their ears as if they can still hear the singing.

You’re the only one who can suddenly hear nothing.

The rocks on the island sparkle like diamonds under the sunlight. The water that cascades down in miniature waterfalls tinkles pleasantly. The air feels crisp and clean, and if you were not aware that this is all meant to lower your guard, you would appreciate the beauty of the small paradise. A paradise or a well-disguised hell.

If you look beyond the shining rocks and the crystal clear waters, you can see signs of destroyed ships, shredded pieces of clothing, bones too similar to that of humans. Beneath it all is death. The end goal for the sirens is the death of you and your men. They’ll sing you to your demise.

Movement catches your eye from one of the rocks that overlooks the passageway. A woman with blonde hair and black eyes that pierce into your soul sits lazily overlooking your ship. She catches your eyes and a smile breaks out across her face. One dainty hand comes up to wave with nothing but a wiggle of delicate fingers.

You feel pulled into her bottomless gaze. It’s only when she stands up atop her rock that you realize she is naked save for a thin dress that seems to be made of water. The water moves with life, as if sentient around her body. It acts like some kind of clothing although it does nothing to cover her body.

She laughs and it chimes through the air like precious jewelry clinking together. You glare at her as she stretches out her muscles from above.

And then she jumps down from the cliff into the water below.

Like awakening from a spell, you snap out of your entrancement. Stricken by panic, you run off to find someone, anyone that you can to let them know of what you saw.  

Yixing is massaging his temples near the crew cabins when you catch sight of him and run up to him. You grab the front of his shirt tightly, frenzied. “I made eye contact with one of the sirens.”

“You what?!”

“I- Fuck I don’t know I wasn’t thinking. She didn’t…do anything to me…she jumped into the water though after. I think she was able to get a good look at everyone currently on deck. She jumped into the water I don’t know where she went,” you rush out. “If she manages to get aboard we are fucked. She could see everyone, and she definitely saw me.”

Yixing blanches. “Fuck…”

You swallow.

“Fuck!” He curses again. He looks around frantically at the members left above deck trying to ignore the pull of the sirens’ song. “Stay here. Stay up here; do not leave this deck. If they can transform into you now, there’s a better chance at catching them if we see two of you in one place, and this will be where they first appear,” he commands. “I’ll go inform Junmyeon and the rest of the crew about the one you saw.” Yixing rushes off and you stand in your spot unsure of what to do.

You can no longer go below deck or else you will put everyone’s safety in jeopardy. You’re a liability now.

All because of the blonde siren.

The song begins to fill your ears again and you almost want to laugh at the timing of it. It’s like they’re mocking you. Soft notes curl around your body and try to sway you towards the water.

You shudder violently and run up to Sehun.

“How much longer until we’ve cleared the island?”

“20 minutes if we keep moving without issue…as long as we can keep everyone aboard and safe,” he says through clenched teeth. His knuckles are disturbingly pale as he grips the wheel tightly and tries to maintain concentration.

So long as Sehun stays right where he is, things will be fine.

Just 20 minutes. You all can survive that.

You begin to wonder if the siren’s song has distorted the Atlantian song. Maybe that is why Junmyeon said that it was off earlier. The song may have been warning of distortion between the songs. He has to have some kind of cryptic advice or warning now that the music is audible to everyone on the ship.

You turn in circles in search for the black haired Atlantian. He’s nowhere to be seen above deck. Did he go below?

A splash shakes you from your thoughts. You turn in the direction of the noise, and then you hear the shouting.

Hesitantly you make your way toward the edge of the ship where the splashing and shouting has picked up volume.

You see Junmyeon thrashing wildly in the waters below.

Your blood goes cold.

“J-Junmyeon?” Your voice comes out weakly at the sight of him barely keeping himself afloat in the water. It has to be an illusion. You watch him struggle to keep his head above the water and your own body starts shaking in horror.

That can’t be Junmyeon. There’s no way that Junmyeon would fall overboard like that.

But the sound of his voice, the desperation in his tone as he screams out your name, that all sounds just like him.

The body in the water seems just like him.

But no one else seems to hear him. It’s only you.

That’s not him.

You pull yourself away from the sight of him.

Kyungsoo rushes by you and you reach out to stop him in his tracks. “Where’s Junmyeon?” you ask him worriedly.

He blinks and looks around the ship quickly. “I last saw him going below with Yixing,” he says with a frown. You nod and let go of his arm so that he can return to whatever he was running to do.

Trying not to let the sound of the false Junmyeon’s shouts trick you, you close your eyes and take a few steps away from the edge of the ship. It’s getting quieter, but the sound of his screams is still there.

Distracted, you bump into another body. You whirl around and come face to face with Baekhyun. You blink at him and all of a sudden the sound of Junmyeon yelling is gone.

Baekhyun looks at you with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you furrow your eyebrows and try to gather your thoughts, try to calm your racing heartbeat. The song of the sirens buzzes lightly in the back of your mind. “I thought that I heard Junmyeon fall overboard.”

Baekhyun frowns deeply and shakes his head. “Yixing took Junmyeon below deck. He said that he’d made eye contact with one of the sirens. Junmyeon didn’t want anyone to get confused and wanted to stay below to keep it clear where the real him is.”

You swallow at his words and turn to look back in the direction of where the fake Junmyeon had thrashed and called out for your help. Baekhyun grabs your arm and gently turns you away. “Hey, don’t fall for it. We have to keep going forward remember? That’s fake; that’s not Junmyeon,” he says while looking into your eyes.

You nod along to his words, but something in the pit of your stomach feels off. Something feels wrong.

If Junmyeon had gone below deck, he or Yixing would have told you. They would have told you the same way that Yixing went off to tell Junmyeon about what you saw.

Yixing told you to stay above deck after you made eye contact with that siren. Why would he take Junmyeon below deck if the same happened to him?

Baekhyun’s words feel off.

You look into his eyes, “You’re right.” You try to keep your tone even. “I’m going to go make sure that Junmyeon is alright then,” you say.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go check on him,” Baekhyun says quickly. He plasters on a smile to cover up how rapidly he decided to take the task upon himself.

It’s then that you know this is all wrong.

You shrug off the hand on your wrist and hold in a shiver. “I can do it,” you press on.

“I’ll go with you then!” he says. You give him a measured look. If not already looking for a break in the facade, you would have missed the way that the image of him wavers like a mirage in a desert for a split second. Sick rises in your throat.

This isn’t Baekhyun.

Your skin breaks out in goosebumps at the realization, but you try to maintain composure. You don’t want the siren to know that you’ve seen through her illusion.

“Okay, we can go together. Just give me one second,” you say. You spin on your heel and try your hardest not to let how unsettled you are show in your steps up to Sehun. At his side, you give Baekhyun a thumbs up and then pull Sehun down so that you can whisper in his ear. “Stop the ship right now,” you whisper quickly. You let go of him and ignore the look of confusion on his face in lieu of squeezing his arm as another silent “stop the ship”. Baekhyun watches your interaction closely but doesn’t mention it as you make it back to his side.

“Let’s go,” you say. Normally, you would grab Baekhyun’s wrist or arm to drag him along, but the thought of touching the siren makes your skin crawl, so you settle for walking in front and leading the way towards the ladder below deck. Your senses are on high alert as he follows silently behind you.

There’s no plan, but you know that you need to get rid of the siren as soon as possible. You just hope to the Gods that you’re right in your assumption and that it’s not actually Baekhyun following you.

It would really be fucked up if it’s the real him because of what you plan on doing next. You can’t think about it for too long.

You turn on your heel and with a quick inhale of breath to brace yourself –you shoot Baekhyun right in the chest.

He stumbles backwards, once, twice. From the wound, instead of warm red, out spills inky blue blood. Your hand wavers in relief, still pointed at who you thought was Baekhyun. The Baekhyun imposter looks down at the wound in shock, and then up with eyes shifting to full blackness. It releases a hiss and piercing screech that fills the ship; you fire another two shots right into its head. It falls to the ground with a thud. You watch it shift from what looked like Baekyun back into the ugly grey creature it is with fury.

“What the fuck!?” Kyungsoo shouts. You cock your head to the side and find that he watched the entire encounter. You exhale the breath you’d held in and lower your gun.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” you growl at Kyungsoo. He flinches at your tone and looks away from the body at your feet.

“He was helping calm Lucas down…he’s been in the crew cabins for a while now. Wha-”

You turn on Kyungsoo in the middle of his question in order to shout to anyone who can hear. Your fear from earlier has transformed into pure rage. They tricked you.

Fully and completely the sirens tricked you and now you know that what you saw earlier was the truth.

Junmyeon is no longer on the ship.

[lovelyshawnn]

ill take care of you

Alpha!Y/N x Omega! Shawn

a/n: hey yall this is my first werewolf imagine so pls bare w me!! in all the werewolf! shawn imagines ive read, its always shawn thats the alpha so i thought id switch it up a bit lol *SMUT WARNING *

I rubbed my hands together, trying to conduct some heat within the palms of my hands. Even though I am a werewolf and that should mean I’m basically warm all the time, I still had a hard time defrosting my fingers in the middle of my living room. Shawn, who was the complete opposite of me, reached his warm hands out and rubbed them against mine, blowing some of his hot breath on to it while my fingers slowly regained feeling. This even colder than usual weather could only mean one thing: winter was approaching. And with winter approaching, that meant my heat was also approaching. As a female alpha, my heat would hit me 10x harder than average werewolf. Which is exactly why I called a pack meeting today at our usual spot in my living room. I quietly thanked Shawn before returning my attention to the rest of my pack.

“So,” I stated clearly as I stood in front of the group, “I’m sure you all know what this cold weather means.” Knowing looks were exchanged within the pack.

“That means I’m going to be at the cabin all next week. Brian, you’re going to be in charge while I’m gone.” The beta’s face instantly lit up at the sound of his name, a look of surprise and confusion plastered his face.

“Me? Doesn’t Shawn usually take your spot?” Brian questioned.

I cleared my throat and answered sternly, “Shawn is coming with me.”

A look of realisation flashed by his face, as his eyes travelled to his best friend who was standing there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. “Bro...nice!” Brian whispered his sexual innuendos to Shawn, giving him a fist bump and a pat on his back as the rest of the pack roared with laughter and clapping. I rolled my eyes at the sight. Everyone in the pack assumed Shawn would be the dominante one in the relationship considering he was about a foot taller than me and built purely from muscle. But little did they know, Shawn was always a whiney little mess when he was underneath my finger tips. And with an alpha’s heat in sync with her omega’s rut, there was no way he was going to last a week in that cabin with me.

“Yeah yeah, whatever Brian. Just try not to get anyone killed while I’m gone,” I said with an assertive but joking tone, “Pack meeting adjourned. We leave tomorrow and I still haven’t started packing.”

“Aye aye Captain!” Brian said with a sarcastic cheery attitude before leaving the house with the rest of the pack trailing behind him. I watched them through the window, making sure each one got into their cars safely before making my way up into my room with Shawn hot on my heels. His huge smile spread across his face as he pulled out my duffel bag from my closet before plopping himself on the bed and making himself comfy.

I eyed him suspiciously, “Why are you so excited to help me pack?”

“I’m glad you asked!” he perked up immediately before heading to my drawers. He opened one of the drawers before picking out a black lacy matching underwear and bra set, holding the delicate and dainty fabric between his hands. “I’m thinking you should bring these,” he replied with a devilish smirk and a wink that made me weak at the knees.

I laughed and rolled my eyes before snatching the fabric from his fingers, “You sure you can handle that, baby boy?”

His demeanor instantly changed as he heard the pet name that he adored hearing in bed. “Y-yes. Of course,” He nervously chuckled as I took a few steps closer to him, pressing my body against his. His throat felt dry all of a sudden as he stood with a clear view of my breasts in my v neck shirt.

“Oh, I don’t know, Shawn.... remember what happened the last time I wore this?” I said, biting my lip to hold back my smirk. Shawn’s face immediately blushed a bright red from the memory, his eyes instantly shutting close as he cringed.

“You almost came in me and got me pregnant with your pups, baby.” I said in a hushed tone as I trailed my fingers up and down his chest. I leaned closer to him, standing on my tippy toes to plant kisses all over his neck before whispering into his ear, “Only this time, I don’t think I want to stop you.”

Shawn’s eyes immediately widened, his hard on aching from the tight jeans he was wearing. In the few months that we’ve been dating, he had never experienced sex with me during my heat, and even though he mentally prepared himself to be able to handle the intesity, my last statement basically erased all of his hard work. His head immediately tilted back, mouth open in pleasure as I palmed him through his jeans. He was overwhelmed with my smell, even stronger than all those times before because of my heat approaching. He let out a quiet groan, grasping at my wrist as my hands worked faster. “Baby, I-“

Thats when I removed my hand completely, backing away from him and walking across the room to my closet before lifting up hanger with a black shirt on it. “So I was thinking of bringing this shirt to match with my jeans?”

He stood there gobsmacked, chest heaving as I clearly left him high and dry. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a nearby pillow and tossing it at my face playfully, “You’re such a goddamn tease. Pack the pink shirt instead, it matches better.”

I laughed at him trying to adjust the growing tent in his tight pants. “Me? A tease? Never.”

Shawn flopped back onto his bed and rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re gonna be the death of me, honey,”

I carefully folded the pink shirt Shawn was referring to before placing it into my duffle bag and making my way to him. I leaned over his body, giving him a quick peck on the nose, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you. Just wait one more night.”

Shawn nodded, completely understanding. It was too dangerous for you two to go at it right now, especially with my nosey ass neighbors who would definitely file noise complaints. Shawn was actually really excited to be spending the week with me at the cabin, which was far out and isolated in the woods. He’d been there a couple times but always with the pack, never alone with me. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he could finally take you wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted on every surface in the house. He had his thoughts especially on that white marble countertop in the cabin’s kitchen, wondering what I’d look like bent over it while he was making love to you. “You okay?” My sultry voice called out to Shawn, who looked zoned out and deep in thought.

“Never better,” Shawn replied, shaking his head to rid his dirty thoughts before helping me out with packing to distract himself from his growing erection.

~

“Hey Bri!” I chirped, picking up the phonecall from my packmate and putting it on speakerphone as I drove.“Hey Y/N! Hows it going so far? Have you guys made it to the cabin yet?” Brian’s voice sounded from the phone.

“Yuup, just pulled up right now,” I replied with one hand on the steering wheel of my blacked out Jeep and one hand on the phone. Shawn was sitting on the passenger side, his hand resting on my thigh and rubbing circles on it with his thumb the whole ride here. To say I was excited was an understatement. His seemingly innocent actions were enough to get me hot and bothered, wanting him to inch his fingers up just a little higher. That was probably why I drove 20 mph over the speed limit to get to our destination faster.

“Great! You guys got everything you need? Food, clothes, protection?” Brian said through the phone. I instantly blushed, looking over to Shawn who surely heard the whole thing. He looked at me with wide eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, fuck off, Bri,” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me, “Tell the others we got here safe, okay?”

“Yup! Have fun, lovebirds,” He replied before ending the call. He was so going to get whats coming to him during the next pack training. By the time I ended the call, Shawn was already grabbing our things and heading inside the cabin. I followed him inside and immediately made a beeline to the kitchen to look for some snacks.

I heard the loud thumps of Shawn’s footsteps before seeing his body emerge from the hallway. “Babe?”

I looked up from the bag of chips I was currently devouring, “yeah?”

Shawn walked towards me until he was right in front of me, placing one of his hands on my waist while the other flew to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously. “I... sort of, uhm, forgot the condoms?” he said.

I chuckled at how he looked so cute when he was nervous. “Thats okay,” I said while looking at him through my lashes, “We don’t need it.”

“You know I like feeling all of you inside me,” I said, fingers sliding beneath his sweatpants and briefs before palming him in my hand. His breath hitched and I instantly heard his heart beat pick up, pounding in my ears. His smell was always so damn intoxicated when he was aroused, a strong mix of musk.

“Fuck, please,” he whined while throwing his head back in pleasure, his hips lightly thrusting against my hand. “What do you want, baby boy? Use your words,” I said with a slight smirk before I attached my lips to his neck, sucking soft bruises that would heal quickly anyways.

“I want your mouth, please,” He panted. I gave his lips one last peck before I turned his body so that his backside was leaning against the counter. I dropped down to my knees, taking off both his briefs and sweats in one swift motion before circling my tongue around his tip.

At the feeling of that, he immediately let out a moan and threw his head back again, fingers immediately finding the back of my head. I pushed his hand away, “Touch me and I’ll stop.”

Shawn lightly pouted, but didn’t want this feeling to ever stop, so he gripped the edge of the counter behind him until his knuckles turned white. I licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip before circling it one last time and finally taking him into my mouth. I bobbed my head slowly, making sure to not to give him too much too soon.

He whimpered as he desperately tried to stop himself from grabbing my hair to pick up the pace. His thighs tensed under my fingertips as he held himself back from thrusting into my mouth. I smiled, lips still wrapped around him. “Good boy,” I praised him, knowing how much he enjoyed that, before sinking my mouth onto him and taking every inch until it hit the back of my throat.

He let out an animalistic growl, eyes starting to shine a golden brown as he couldn’t control how good it felt. Watching how his chest rose while his cheeks became a bright shade of pink, I moaned with his dick still in my mouth, sending vibrations through him. I released him with a pop before standing up on my feet again when Shawn instantly grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him, kissing me passionately before turning me over and bending me across the counter.

He lifted my skirt and pushed my panties to the side before trailing his finger up and down my slit, gathering the wetness before pushing his digit inside. He pumped in and out a couple times, moans tumbling out of my mouth. He withdrew his fingers and rubbed the wetness all over his dick before sliding in his cock effortless. He hissed at the feeling of my tight pussy around him. “Mm, you feel so good baby,” I moaned out.

My praise only egged him on more, his thrusts quickening. My fingers found my bundle of nerves, bringing me closer to my orgasm. “Shawn, I’m gonna-“

At the sound of my voice, Shawn quickly pulled out, leaving me high and dry. I growled at the loss of contact, eyes flashing red momentarily at him. “I’ll take care of you,” Shawn let out quickly before I could get any angrier, “Ride me. Please”

The sound of his whimper made me smirk, making me instantly hop off the counter and taking his hand before dragging him to the bedroom. Pushing him onto the bed, back against the headboard, I made my way up and sat myself on his lap, lowering myself onto his cock. I gasped at his girth, one hand flying to his hair with a firm grip and the other scratching down his chest. Shawn moaned at the heavenly feeling of my claws dragging down his skin.

I began kissing on his neck, sucking harsher than I could control. But Shawn wasn’t complaining. He obviously loved the extra attention on him, which was evident in the way he was a total mess under my touch. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach, an urge to sink his teeth into my neck. He sucked and nipped at my neck, leaving behind a hickey so deep that not even my werewolf healing abilities could fix. At the feeling of his harsh teeth breaking my delicate skin, I felt a feeling of white hot pain for a split second, before my body flooded with electricity. The pleasure was almost too much for me to bare. “Honey...,” He trailed off as he threw his head back. I understood the cue, rocking my hips harder as I felt my own orgasm coming on.

I felt myself tightening around him as he reached out to me, fingers rubbing my clit in tight circles. “Give me your cum, baby,” I whispered into his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. Shawn’s thrusts faltered, eyes wide as he took in what I just said. He couldn’t tell if it was what I really wanted or if it was just my heat talking, but he seemed to lose all self control as he locked eyes with me. “Fuck!” Shawn yelled, reaching his orgasm just as I reached mine, his hot load squirting in me.

We sat there post-high, chests heaving as we came down from our orgasms. “Did I...” Shawn asked, eyes hooded and barely open in his state of exhaust.

“Mark me?” I finished, reaching up to trail my fingers on the pink bite mark on my neck, “Guess so.”

He instantly grinned, smile taking up his whole face ad he pulled me into his chest and engulfing me into a hug. I giggled at his goofiness, noticing how our heart beats were completely in sync. “You’re mine now,” he whispered as he peppered kisses on the little scar where my neck met my shoulder.

“I’ve always been yours, babe.”

[hartigays]

17. “Because I love you!”

17. “Because I love you!”

“what the fuck were you thinking?”

steve bristles at billy’s tone, groaning pitifully in lieu of a response. his lower leg is torn to hell, and he hisses in pain when billy peels off more of the shredded fabric of his jeans from the gaping wounds covering his calf.

“going out there on your own,” billy mutters, his brows furrowed in concentration. there’s the barest hint of anger in his eyes, and it has steve’s cheeks burning in shame. “did you smoke fuckin’ crack for breakfast? i mean, seriously. the fuck were you goddamn thinking?”

steve just lets his head fall back against the couch, throwing an arm over his face. “maybe save tearing me a new asshole for when i’m not bleeding to death? thanks.”

“can’t help it that you’re a fuckin’ idiot,” billy tells him.

it’s then that billy does it, tearing away the remnants of steve’s pants leg with one final tug. steve can’t help but yelp in pain, biting down on his fist.

he hadn’t intended to go out and get attacked by a fucking demo-dog. he just wanted to do a short sweep. hop did put steve in charge of his cabin for the week, after all. it’s the least he could do. steve never thought there’d actually be anything out there. not when things have been this quiet, this peaceful, in recent months.

if steve had thought there was any immediate danger, he never would’ve gone out alone.

“what the fuck were you doing out in the woods anyway?” steve asks, his voice somewhat strangled as billy continues to staunch the blood spilling from his leg.

“the chief said you’d be out here,” billy explains, like it should be obvious. “brought you some food since lord fuckin’ knows you can’t cook.”

steve can’t help the way that knowledge makes his stomach flip-flop. because either billy had been asking around about where steve had run off to, or the chief had let it slip and billy took it upon himself to come out here to check up on him.

a quiet voice in his mind whispers that billy cares, and the butterflies suddenly fluttering around in steve’s stomach start going so crazy that it feels like they’re bound to burst right out of him.

“i don’t see any food,” steve says, finally taking a moment to look around hopper and el’s cluttered living space. trying to focus on the situation at hand rather than the messy feelings he may or may not have for another boy.

billy pauses his patch-job, giving steve a pointed look. “yeah, cause i dropped the shit. saving your dumbass.”

steve winces, scratching his head sheepishly. “oh. right. sorry about that.”

they both fall silent, billy working on steve’s leg, and steve trying not to be a total pussy by breaking down into tears. but the shit fucking hurts - the dog had ripped his lower leg to shreds, and steve is pretty sure there’s still teeth embedded in some of the wounds.

billy confirms that suspicion when he says, “gonna have to get these out with tweezers. pushing antibiotics won’t do shit if you’ve still got these stuck up in there.”

he’s gesturing to a particular set of gashes on steve’s leg, and steve braves a glance, seeing the sharp edges of what can only be teeth sticking out from tissue and muscle.

“it’s gonna feel like shit,” billy continues, clearly waiting for a signal from steve before continuing.

steve tries to steel himself, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. “just do it.”

“deep breath,” is all billy says before taking the medical-grade tweezers into his hand, and starting the process of pulling the teeth free from steve’s flesh.

for a few moments, steve keeps quiet. but the pain is too much, somehow worse than being bitten and torn up in the first place. steve starts cursing and crying out after a few short minutes, his eyes blurring with tears.

it feels like it takes a century, billy pulling out tooth after tooth, the pile beside him growing higher and higher. billy at least isn’t making fun of him for crying, instead just reminding him to breathe and telling him every now and then that it’s almost over.

the next time billy says it, that they’re almost done, steve grits his teeth, blowing the air out of his nose harshly. “would you quit fucking saying that? jesus christ, you’ve been at it for 20 fucking minutes. we’re not almost done and you know it.”

billy just sits back on his heels, blinking up at him and looking wholly unimpressed. “that was the last one. quit fuckin’ whining.”

then, billy’s covering steve’s calf with a clean, rubbing alcohol-soaked cloth, and steve can’t help the way his leg kicks or the way he screams. it burns like hellfire, and steve can feel the tears leaving warm, salty tracks on his skin as they run down his cheeks.

“hey, you’re okay, you’re fine,” billy shushes him, and steve barely registers the fact that he’s now squeezing one of steve’s hands. “worst part is over. like ripping off a bandaid.”

“is it bad that all of this has felt like the worst part?” steve asks through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as billy starts to roll on the gauze and bandages.

a moment later, billy sits up, releasing steve’s leg from his grip. “done. you did good, c’mon. let’s get you some pants that haven’t been half-chewed off.”

“don’t think i can walk right now,” steve says honestly, giving billy his best puppy dog eyes. “could you bring me the pair of sweats from my bag?”

billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, just heads into the back room like he’s been here a million times before to get steve’s belongings. he returns with steve’s favorite pair of sweatpants, kneeling down and helping him out of his torn-up jeans.

“wouldn’t have to act like your fuckin’ mom if you hadn’t been running around outside alone like an idiot,” billy grumbles as he tugs steve’s sweatpants up over his hips, carefully minding his injured leg.

“i didn’t think there’d be anything out there,” steve says, his own irritation starting to fester. “just wanted to do a quick perimeter check before locking up.”

“you should’ve waited.”

“waited for what?” steve snaps, throwing his hands up. “it’s not like i fucking knew you were coming.”

“it doesn’t matter,” billy argues, “you know better. because shit like this happens. you’re fuckin’ smarter than that, harrington, jesus.”

steve gives him an incredulous look, trying and failing to quell his mounting frustration. “why the fuck do you care? why are you even here in the first place? ‘s not like i asked you to come. i don’t need protecting.”

“because i love you!” billy blurts, whirling around to level steve with a wild-eyed stare. “i don’t need you going around getting killed just because you want to play the big hero or some shit. and you clearly do need fuckin’ protection, because look at you! you could’ve died!”

the silence hangs heavy between them when billy finishes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. steve feels like he’s been slapped, but not entirely in a bad way, billy’s words ringing in his ears.

“you... did you just say you love me?” steve finally asks, looking at billy with something akin to wonder.

“i - no. that’s not... i didn’t mean it like that,” billy rushes to say, his cheeks burning bright red. he’s staring at something above steve’s head, refusing to meet his eyes.

steve just keeps watching him, his heart feeling like it’s about to beat right out of his chest and plop onto the floor. “what if - what if i said i wanted you to mean it like that?”

billy looks at him sharply. “what?”

only hesitating for a moment, steve takes a deep breath, patting the spot on the couch beside him, chewing on his lip. “i want you to sit here. and i want you to tell me again.”

a long stretch of silence. then, billy’s slowly walking towards the couch, seating himself next to steve. he’s rigid as a board, looking like he’s bound to bolt at any second.

“can you tell me again?” steve asks, his voice soft.

billy glances at steve, looking uncertain. “i... love you.”

and this feels different than all the other times steve has been told he’s loved. it’s different than all the other times steve’s told someone they’re loved. because billy isn’t soft and feminine and all the things steve is used to. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s everything that steve wants, the realization suddenly clear as day.

so steve makes the first move, leaning in and sealing their lips together with a soft sigh. billy squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, one hand coming to rest against steve’s cheek.

it’s not like any kiss steve has ever experienced. billy is sturdy and solid beneath his hands, all broad shoulders and toned muscles, and his stubble scrapes across the delicate skin of steve’s face as they kiss. but steve chases the feeling, something warm and hot blossoming in his stomach.

steve thinks he could do this forever, could hold and kiss billy just like this all the time. except maybe minus the injured leg. he could do without the underlying throb, the only thing distracting him from the heat of the kiss and the softness of billy’s lips moving with his easily. like they belong together.

“i love you too,” steve says easily when billy pulls back to breathe. he presses a gentle kiss to billy’s cheek, smiling against his skin. “maybe a little too much sometimes.”

“you could never be too much,” is all billy says.

billy kisses steve this time, soft and sugary sweet and with enough purpose to make steve’s toes curl.

“and you know, love me all you want. you’re still an idiot, harrington.”

steve just tosses his head back, laughing loud and unabashed. because yeah, he is, but it’s okay.

billy still loves him anyway.

[captainsassmanes]

I am a sucker for (well written) angst. I can't stop thinking of Alex finding out all the nice domestic things Michael is doing with Maria. Or god forbid.... If Michael actually brings up his fight with Maria to Alex to rant or get some kind of advice... i'll flip tables

Took your energy and twisted it into this guy!

The cabin was dark but Michael figured he’d take a chance. It wasn’t too late and he’d been dying to tell Alex about the breakthrough he made with the ship. He’d stopped by Alex’s house and got no answer after pounding on the door for a bit so he thought he’d take a drive.

Their friendship had started growing into something he really valued lately. Everything was going shockingly well. His relationship was in a great place, he was making progress for Max, drinking less and stepping up for everyone in his life. 

He was proud of himself.

Shutting the truck door, he jogged up the steps and knocked on the door, a cute little rhythm that mimicked his mood. Michael knew Alex had been having a couple of rough days. That asshole, Forrest, had gone as quickly as he’d come and left Alex confused and hurt, although Michael could tell he was trying to hide it as best he could.

Michael wasn’t fooled.

He knocked on the door again, knuckles stinging from the unfinished wood.

“Alex? You okay? Open up.”

He waited a minute before knocking again. Michael felt a pang of anxiety as Alex kept him waiting. It was too early for him to be asleep. Maybe something happened?

As he prepped to use his powers to open the door, a light flicked on and he heard Buffy’s muffled paws trotting across the floor.

The relieved smile on Michael’s face fell when Alex opened the door.

His hair was a matted mess, dirty and uncombed. He looked thinner, like he’d lost a bit of his bulk, and his clothes hung just this side of too big. The usually radiant skin of his face was pale with dark circles framing his bloodshot eyes. How long had it been since they’d seen each other?

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?”

Alex nodded, gulping before licking his dry, cracked lips. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think so. What’s wrong?”

Alex refused to meet his eye. “I’m fine. What do you need?”

Michael’s heart pounded, blood rushing in his ears.

He cleared his throat and said, “uh, I made progress today. I was able to push a penny about 20 minutes back through the ship.”

Alex nodded, still looking at a spot over Michael’s shoulder. “That’s good.”

Michael stood with his mouth hanging open. He’d literally just told Alex he’d figured out basic time travel and that was the response.

“Okay, seriously, what’s going on?”

With a sigh, Alex rubbed his hand across his face and shook his head. “Nothing but, um, can we do this another day? I’m just really tired.”

Putting the pieces together, Michael made a quiet, “ah.” sound. “This is about Forrest, right?”

Alex finally caught his eye then, brows furrowed and head tilted to the side. “Look, Alex, he was shit, alright? If he didn’t want to be with you then it’s his loss. I never really thought…hey!”

Alex had moved back and started to shut the door in Michael’s face, his features schooled into a fury Michael hadn’t seen before. “What the hell, Alex?”

“Fuck off, Michael.”

“No way! I’m just trying to be your friend here.”

“I don’t want your friendship!”

His voice echoed in the woods, bouncing from tree to tree, reaching through the needles of the pines, into the darkness.

Michael felt his eyes fill with tears. “I don’t understand.”

Alex huffed, a sad smile painted on his lips as he shook his head at the floor. “Yeah, Forrest breaking up with me sucked. Just another person who didn’t want me.”

Michael took a breath to protest but wasn’t fast enough.

“But my heart wasn’t in it. It was temporary for me. A relationship to wait in.”

“To wait in?” Michael’s voice was too loud in the quiet that floated between them. Alex nodded and said nothing for a minute, gathering his thoughts. Buffy made an appearance then, sitting silently next to Alex and nudging his knee with her nose.

“I’ve been waiting for you like the idiot I am.”

Michael was stunned.

“I know you told me it was over but I kept thinking we had a chance. I’d help you, we’d be friends, I’d get your trust back and then we could try again.”

Michael swallowed. “I don’t really know -”

“But you’re in love with Maria.”

Michael’s eyes widened. He’d said it to her only a night or two before and meant it, but there was something about hearing those words come from Alex that didn’t sit right.

Alex sniffed and looked away, quickly rubbing his face. “You were supposed to like her. Care about her. Sleep with her. Be kind to her. Be happy with her. But not fall in love with her.”

Michael brought his hand to his face when he realized he was crying, too. He’d been so confident when he’d been with Maria that night, at peace. It was beautiful. But Alex -

“Bye, Michael.”

“Wait,” he pushed his weight into the door to keep it open, desperate not to let the conversation end there. “How do you know that?”

Alex scoffed. “That’s your concern, Guerin? Who the gossip is?”

Michael bit his lip and dropped his arm. He didn’t know why that was what he chose to say.

“Liz. She’s team Maria and Michael all the way. Couldn’t wait to share that the happy couple took the next step in their relationship.”

Michael dug his hands into his pockets, emotions pulling him off balance. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Michael, look at me.”

He took a deep breath before looking up into those sad, dark eyes.

“I’ve done everything I can for you. Good luck with your experiments and I genuinely hope you can figure it out, for all of your sake. But I don’t want to see you anymore. I’m done.”

Panic gripped at Michael’s throat as he reached out and connected with Alex’s arm. “No. No, what? You gonna just disappear? We’ll still see each other. I, I don’t know, we can figure something out, okay? You can’t just lock me out, Alex!”

He pulled his arm out of Michael’s grasp and stepped back, hand back on the door. “I’m done tying my happiness to you, Michael.”

Michael stepped back with the weight of that.

“I fucking died when you told me you liked Maria. But I was still naive enough to hope.”

He whispered, “if you can fall in love with someone else while I’m standing right here, I know we’ll never make it back to each other.”

Alex shut the door and locked it, the dim light in the kitchen going dark seconds later.

Michael couldn’t move. His hand flew to his chest and squeezed the fabric of his shirt. He’d been out of control before, relished in the chaos he could survive, but this was different.

What the fuck was happening?

[naughty-noodles]

The omega and Alpha thing with Toby was fucking awesome- Could you do a part two when you have time? Like Toby kidnaps the omega and kinda forces themcto like him. You're writings really good ☺️

Y/n awoke groggily, head pounding like a motherfuck. The light from a nearby window shone directly on their face, making them move to pull the blanket up. Confusion knit their eyebrows tightly as they realized their arms were restrained beside them.

Y/n's head shot up to see the leather cuffs that kept them from moving too far. Their feet were free to their relief but that emotion quickly faded when the events from the night before came flooding back.

"HELLLLP!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!" They cried, thrashing their feet and pulling against the restraints. Y/n fell back onto the bed with a thud, realizing their efforts were fruitless. They were alone and likely well hidden.

After Y/n caught their breath, they began looking around. The walls were made of logs so it was probably a cabin located in who the fuck knows where. The light coming in from the window was bright and direct. Depending on their direction, it was either early morning or late evening.

The bed smelled like mothballs as if it hadn't been used since its last wash... whenever that was, and the only other furniture in the room was a small dresser and a nightstand.

Y/n laid there, listening to a ticking clock in the hallway until the exhaustion set back in and pulled them back into unconsciousness.

A door slamming shut caused y/n to jolt back from their sleep moments later. Scraping footsteps and a groan made their heart pound fast.

"Can't do anyth-thing right, can they?"

That voice struck fear into y/n's chest as they struggled against the restraints more.

"Oh, hey. You're up."

The masked man had peered his head in. Y/n laid there too fearful to say anything. The killer removed his goggles and pulled his hood off but kept his face guard on. With a huff, he knelt by the bedside.

"Look... I know you're a-afraid... but I'm not going to hurt you. What yo-you saw was strictly business." His eyes crinkled, showing a weak smile.

"Why..." y/n coughed, their voice strained from the yelling from earlier. "Why do you stutter like that..?"

A maniacal laugh erupted from the killer.

"Of all the things y-you could say to- to me first, you ask about my f-fucking t-tourettes?!" He fell to the floor, seemingly amused by the question. After his laughter subsided, he stared with a bemused look at the omega in front of him. "You're a weird one"

He got up and shut the door before pulling out a pocket knife. Y/n's eyes widened at the sight, breath hitching in fear.

"Relax, omega. I said I'm not going to hurt you." Toby reached for the restraints and began sawing at their bindings.

"The name's T-Toby. I had to restrain y-you while I was g-gone so don't take it personally. Also..." he turned and gave them a look. "Don't try to run when these are off. I'm stronger, faster, and f-from the turnout of l-last night... smarter. If y-you are to live, then you a-are to live here."

Y/n nodded quickly.

"I'm serious, d-despite these f-f-fucking tics" he struggled to get out. "Don't be stupid."

When the bounds were removed, Toby helped the omega sit up, warning them to move slow to avoid getting too dizzy. He seemed more gentle now, not wanting to terrify them.

Y/n rubbed their sore wrists with a wince.

"I'll get you some water. S-Stay here. You won't be f-fit to walk yet."

He left the room, leaving the door cracked. If y/n had said the thought of bolting hadn't crossed their mind, they'd be lying. With how weak they felt and how sure they were of being killed if they tried, it was best that they listened.

Toby had returned shortly with a glass of water. He had even put ice in it, which y/n was grateful for.

"Drink slow."

The cold water had soothed their dry and sore throat. Despite trying to hide it, a relieved hum left their lips. Toby chuckled and took the glass when they finished. He didnt want to risk them shattering it for a weapon, as little as the risk seemed.

Smart little omega, he thought to himself.

A moment passed before y/n dared to speak. "If you're so certain you could kill me if I escaped... then why dont you take your mask off? I mean, if I'm to stay here or risk my life... then can't I at least see my captors face?"

"Captor?" Toby snorted in amusement. "Well if we are b-being tech-technical then I guess that's true."

After a moment of thought, he reached behind his head and began untying it. "Just... prepare y-yourself. It's pretty gnarly."

The mask fell off with ease, revealing a large gash in his cheek. Y/n could see his teeth and gums with how wide it was. They scooted a bit further away with a grimace on their face.

"Told ya."

"How...how did that happen? I've never seen anything like that..."

"Along with tourettes, I also hav-have this thing called CIP. I can't feel pain. It doesnt h-hurt but as a kid, when I got n-n-nervous, I'd chew on my cheek. Only the p-pain wasnt there to stop me."

He removed the gloves on his hands and held them up. Each had was riddled with scars and teeth marks.

"Also developed a n-nasty habit of chew-chewing on my hands.."

Y/n frowned and shakily raised a hand to trace the scars while Toby sat with a blank look on his face.

"You think I'm s-some sort of mo-monster, don't you?"

The omega's eyes shot up to meet his brown ones with shock. "No...no... it actually makes you seem more human, really..." y/n gave a weak smile "I mean, killing everyone else in that bar and threatening to kill me then keeping me captive is scary but honestly, seeing your flaws kinda... puts me at ease."

Toby raised an eyebrow. "You... are taking this surprisingly well, omega."

They shrugged. "Trying to make the most of my current situation seeing as if I leave, I die. No offense but i still dont like you."

Toby frowned. "Understandable, I guess." After a moment he stood up. "You should get some more sleep. That pill had en-enough dosage to take down a m-man twice your size."

A week had passed and y/n was beginning to lose all hope of a normal life. Toby was rarely at the cabin and the isolation was beginning to make the omega crack. It got to the point where the omega was excited for the mornings he'd return from what he called his "job".

They rarely went outside, despite being allowed the privilege of staying within 20 feet of the cabin. Toby had trusted that y/n would stay but only for one reason. He had showed them a picture of what resided in these woods if y/n had ventured too far. A creature he called the rake.

The mere sight of it was enough to keep y/n indoors. If they did go outside, it was only to the cabin porch with the door open to allow easy access back inside. Some nights, the omega could swear they heard the creatures cry of agony at not being permitted near the cabin.

Toby had told them that the only thing keeping that creature back was due to the nature of his job and the man he worked for. It made the omega shudder, thinking that someone was that powerful enough to control the beast.

Toby had another residence where he stayed at more often to keep up appearances. When asked if they could go with one day, he gave a firm no. He had told them the place was full of other alphas, and some were so messed up and bloodthirsty that the thought of an omega in their midst would drive them more wild.

The more respected of the bunch each had their own cabin where they were permitted some privacy. No one was allowed over unless invited. The lack of trust was obvious but the mutual gain was enough to keep them from tearing at each other.

So y/n remained where they were, cleaning, cooking, pacing, and finding whatever ways to amuse themselves while the time passed.

Toby had attempted to win them over with gifts, their favorite foods, and a basic level of trust. Slowly but surely, he was winning.

Everything slowly became second nature... until y/n's omega nature kicked in and they began nesting. Every blanket and pillow in the cabin was taken. The closet was emptied and replaced with every comfy piece of cloth the omega could find. Not a thing was out of place, just how the omega liked it.

But once they snuggled down to rest, they became irritated. Something was missing. Something vital. And the omega in them would not rest until they found out what.

Y/n searched the entire house, sniffing every couch cushion and curtain but nothing was right. They began pacing and biting at their nails. By the time the door opened, the omega was nearly pulling out their own hair.

Toby stopped at the door and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Um... what are you doing?"

"Its missing something." The omega grumbled right before their nose caught onto his scent. The whipped around to face him.

"Um??"

"Jacket. Now." The omega glared.

"Excuse me? T-The fuck?"

"Jacket." The omega walked forward and grabbed at it. "I need it."

Confused but slowly becoming more amused, the alpha complied. "Have at it, I g-guess?"

Y/n snatched it and ran toward the bedroom to their closet. Toby attempted to follow but only got so far as the bedroom door before the omega growled. It was then when it got through Toby's thick skull. They were nesting. He's only seen it happen twice. Once when his sister was beginning to present and again when Jeff's brother Liu chose a place to nest at the mansion.

He decided it was best to leave them alone.

The omega began placing the jacket in its correct spot before plopping down, purring happily. An hour or two passed before they began to get antsy again. Something more was missing and the omega begrudgingly knew what. With a small growl, they went back to the living room where Toby lay on the couch, eyes closed in rest.

His eyes opened when he sensed the omega's presence. Pouting, y/n grabbed his hand and began pulling.

"Can I help you?" He chucked, getting up.

"Come." The omega dragged him toward the closet and pointed to their nest. "You go here."

Confused, Toby obliged.

"Okay, 'mega. Now what?"

"Now we sleep." Y/n plopped beside him, now content again. Toby remained at a loss for what to do. The omega stared at him expectantly.

"Well...?"

Racking his brain and wondering that the fuck it was the omega could be wanting, he lay there confused. Until it hit him. Omega's often seek approval of their nests. Without another Omega here to approve, he had to fill that role.

"Its comfy. I like it."

With a happy hum, the omega snuggled up beside him and drifted off while Toby lay there dumbfounded at what he got himself into.

Until he realized. After nesting, comes heat.

.....fuck.