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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 years

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Found myself thinking about Eddie being insecure because he doesn't see himself as Steve's type, and sees the people who flirt with him and well...

Just picture it with me.

Eddie and Steve have been together for a bit. Maybe like, a few months, but they were technically together before, inseparable in the most annoying gooey way. And things are GOOD. Eddie's never been happier.

The way Steve's been so patient with him. Eddie has no idea how relationships work, let alone the sex stuff. He's totally inexperienced. He's maybe kissed a few people before Steve. But not much else.

And Steve is.. so sweet to him. Always asking if he's okay, if this or that touch is alright. Eddie had literally cum in his fucking pants one night, so fast, embarrassingly fast. But Steve had climbed into his lap and he just... couldn't handle it.

He'd been so fucking embarrassed, but Steve had just held him. Not letting him run to the bathroom like he'd wanted too. He had let Eddie hide his face in his neck though, pressed kisses into Eddie's hair until he calmed down.

And THEN he'd let him get up and clean himself off. But only after he made sure Eddie knew he didn't have to be embarrassed.

Steve didn't tell him then, but it made him feel a little crazy. And he definitely hadn't made a plan to make Eddie do it again, needing to hear that sweet little sound that lodged itself in Eddie's throat as his hands grabbed at Steve. He felt like he could fucking fly for the rest of the night.

But it had been a rough couple weeks for Eddie. He'd walked into family video twice this week to see beautiful girls trailing after Steve, big moony, hopeful eyes, as Steve pointed out a few movie options, looking bored.

And Eddie knew he wasn't interested in these girls, or the odd guy who would come in, maybe flirt a little. Steve never returned any of the advances, just gave them his tight cutomer service smile. A smile Eddie and Robin constantly made fun of him for.

But he'd been talking to Robin about some french movie, he'd actually done pretty well in french, so he let Robin force him to sit through movies that he could vaguely understand.

But he'd glanced at Steve, just the briefest look, and had seen a pretty brunette touching his arm and laughing. And Steve had chuckled, a little, and that's fine. Eddie doesn't care if he has friends, it's not... that's not it. Not the issue.

Because Eddie loves Steve's laugh, it's not even about Steve, because Eddie's focus is never on Steve in the these moments. It's always on the beautiful people talking to Steve. Flirting with Steve.

Eddie's eyes linger on the girl's hair, it looks a bit like his, more curls, falling beautifully down her back. Her eyes are pretty, the slope of her nose is nice, and she's got a good laugh too, bubbly, pretty. Eddie swallows hard, notices Steve's eyes on him over the girls shoulder. Steve waves, smiles, leaves the girl behind as he walks toward Eddie.

His palms are sweating as Steve walks over, smiling. He steps behind the counter next to Robin, leans his elbows on it, toward Eddie, into his space. Eddie sighs, can't help but smile.

"Hey Eds, we still on for movie night?" He asks, tapping his fingers against the movie Eddie had brought to the counter, not paying attention to what it was. They never ended up watching the movie anyway. Eddie nods.

"Yeah of course. I was just, grabbing it." His head feels fuzzy, lost in thought. Steve frowns.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head, pins on the best smile he can manage.

"Yeah. All good. We're doin pizza again too right?" He asks, sliding the movie off the counter and walking backwards to the door. Steve smiles again, believing Eddie's fragile cover.

"Watch out for the-" Robin calls, her hand raised.

"Oof-" Eddie huffs as his back slams into the-

"Door." Robin and Steve say together. Eddie grimaces a small smile and waves, ducking out the door. Robin and Steve laughing as they get back to work.

~°~

They're on the couch, movie forgotten, like always. Steve is sitting in Eddie's lap, hands in his hair, fingers moving against his scalp soothingly as he kisses down Eddie's neck. And Eddie's trying to be into it, wants to be, he is. On one level.

But his thoughts have been racing all day, images of all those beautiful people flirting with Steve. Who is the most fucking beautiful person Eddie's ever goddamn met. And he's sitting in his fucking lap, offering himself to Eddie like he always fucking does. And Eddie is just, is so... distracted.

His hands are resting on Steve's thighs, his headed tilted, giving Steve access to his neck, but he just, he can't focus. Steve's mouth stops, presses a small kiss to his collar bone, and then he's leaning back, resting his butt on Eddie's knees as he looks down at him.

"You okay Ed's?" Steve asks, his voice soft, his touch even softer as his thumbs rest on Eddie's neck. Eddie blinks up at him, licks his lips, opens his mouth, closes it, and nods, his fingers squeezing Steve's thigh as he leans up, tries to kiss Steve, change the subject.

Steve's hand on his chest presses him back down, into the couch, Eddie makes a little noise, Steve smiles, but his eyes are concerned.

"Hey. What's goin on in that head? You've been so quiet. Like... all day." Steve says, his hands back on Eddie's neck, his eyes soft as he waits for Eddie to answer.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Eddie asks, cringes when his voice sounds... bitter? Steve's eyes widen.

"Whoa. What?" He asks, scooting forward a little, setting on Eddie's thighs instead of perching on his knees, getting more comfortable. Eddie shakes his head, bites his lip. Huffs at himself, because he feels like he's about to fucking cry.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's happening?" Steve asks, his hands moving up, thumbs moving over Eddie's cheeks, keeping him facing Steve.

"Nothin. Everything's fine. I'm just- nothing." He tries to smile, knows it doesn't reach his eyes, and Steve droops, bringing him ever closer.

"Eddie. Your hands haven't moved since I got on top of you. You haven't touched my ass once. Not even when I did that tongue thing you like." Steve says, cautious. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I don't like it that much." He shakes his head, keeping his eyes OFF Steve, though he's still cradling his face.

"You whimper every time I do it. And you grabbed my ass hard enough to leave bruises. So I've got proof." Steve teases, rubbing his nose along Eddie's. Eddie heart thumps, he did really like it. Fuckin Steve. He huffs, rolls his eyes again and then moves them back to Steve.

"Just tell me what's wrong." He kisses his forhead, rests his head there after.

"Please." He whispers, his hands moving back into Eddie's hair, scratching at his scalp the way he knows Eddie likes, it relaxes him. He sighs, melts into Steve's touch and clears his throat. Because he doesn't wanna say it. It's stupid. He feels stupid.

"It's stupid." He shakes his head. Steve's brow furrows.

"I'm sure it's not." He says. Eddie swallows hard again, the lump in his throat starting to burn.

"Why me?" And he sounds, small, even to himself, can't imagine how he sounds to Steve, so he closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the couch. Steve is quiet, for a moment.

"What do you mean why you?" He asks, Eddie opens his eyes to see Steve's confused face, his eyes off to the side, looking at the couch, thinking. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his face and tries again, Steve's eyes jump to him, concerned.

"I just- I guess I just- I mean you could have anybody." His voice cracks, he takes his hands off Steve's thighs, rests them on his own stomach instead.

"I just don't understand." Eddie shakes his head. Steve moves his hands, settles them over Eddie's.

"I uh... I guess." Steve says, slowly, uncertain.

"Eddie look at me."

Eddie doesn't. Steve laughs, snorts really, and grabs Eddie's cheeks, gentle with his scars. He moves Eddie's face until Eddie can't not look at him.

"Hi." Steve says, small smile starting to bloom.

"Hi." Eddie huffs, crosses his arms, they bump Steve, jostle him a bit.

"Eddie I don't want anyone else. I want you. You know that right?" Steve asks, his face so close, his eyes so fucking earnest. Eddie nods. Because he does, he does know that. He tries to look away, just moves his eyes as Steve holds his head still.

"I know. I know that. I just-" he takes a shakey breath, fights the sob that's threating to bubble out of his throat.

"I don't know why." Eddie says, and it's a whine when it leaves him, his throat is too tight for it to be anything else.

"All these beautiful people flirt with you, like... all the time. And I know you don't care about that. I know that! But I see them, and the way they look at you, and I just... I don't understand why you picked me. Over that. Over them? I- I'm not..." Steve wipes the tears away from his cheeks but stays silent, lets him keep talking.

"They're all so beautiful. And you're so beautiful. And you just- it's like you don't even see them? And then fucking come here to be with me and I just don't understand why!?" Eddie's voice is loud now, his hands flailing at his sides as Steve keeps his hands on Eddie, they're on his shoulders now. His thumbs soothing against Eddie's collarbones. Eddie's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, his face his wet, and Steve is fucking looking down at him like he fucking hung the stars.

"Why are you looking at me like that." Eddie's voice squeaks. Steve's smile just gets bigger and bigger.

"What?" Eddie's hands grab at his waist, tickling him enough that Steve's concentration breaks, and he laughs, once, before he grabs at Eddie's shirt and brings them face to face again, so close. His nose moving against Eddie's again before he pulls back a bit.

"I um... I love you." He says, biting his lip, his cheeks going red as he looks down at Eddie. And Eddie's heart thuds in his ears. There's... he wasn't expecting that. Steve's never said that to him before. He's said, lots of things, lots of very nice and sweet and filthy, other things. But never that.

"I- you?" Eddie's brow furrows.

"Yeah." Steve nods, more confident now.

"I love you. And yeah, people flirt with me sometimes, and yeah they're pretty. But they're not you. You're fucking breathtaking to me. And I just... want you. Because I love you." Steve shrugs, like it's the fucking simplest thing in the world.

"You love me?" Eddie asks, his brain feels like it's trying to walk through fucking quicksand. Steve snorts.

"Yes. Idiot." He breathes, lowers himself into Eddie's space, kisses him, sweetly. Pulls back, smiles as Eddie's hands scramble against the back of his sweater.

"That's more like it." Steve breathes, tries to kiss Eddie again, frowns when Eddie moves his hands to his chest and holds him back. Eddie feels like he's gonna cry again, he looks up at Steve, blinks.

"I-"

"You don't have to say it." Steve cuts him off.

"But I want to. I- I do." Eddie sniffles, Steve wipes at his face again, rests his head against Eddie's.

"Well go on then." He teases, holding Eddie's neck, he scoots closer, presses himself harder into Eddie's lap. Eddie sucks in a breath, his fingers clawing at Steve's thighs now.

"C'mon Ed's, tell me." He whispers, one hand moving down Eddie's side, his fingers dipping under Eddie's shirt, he moans at the contact.

"Fuck I love you. So much." Eddie breathes, his hands moving to Steve's ass, fingers digging in, pulling him closer. Steve hums happily, rolls his hips.

"There he is." Steve breathes into Eddie's neck, his lips dragging over Eddie's skin, making him shiver.

"I do though. I love you." Eddie's voice is steady now, certain. Steve leans back again, smiling softly at him.

"I know." He says, eyebrows jumping on his forhead. Eddie gasps, dramatic.

"Oh you fucker." Eddie whispers, fists his hand in Steve's shirt and drags him foward, their noses bumping roughly.

"You love it." Steve whispers against his lips before licking into his mouth, smiling against Eddie's lips as he moans in affirmation.

Eddie's heart pounds in his chest as Steve's hands move up under his shirt, holding him closer, his entire body flushing as Steve touches him, rolls his hips into him with purpose, making Eddie whimper as he holds on, his fingers digging into Steve the way he knows Steve likes, all thoughts of anyone else gone from his mind.

Steve kisses down his neck again, smirks into Eddie's skin as he rolls his hips one more time, pushing Eddie over the egde again, for the second time, smiling into Eddie's shirt as that perfect little noise hits his ears. Eddie clinging to him as Steve shows him he has no fucking need to worry about anyone else. Eddie is it for him.

Always.

Probably forever.

As long as Eddie will have him.

#fates endless inkwell #fei #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #inexperienced eddie munson #my writing #mine #my fic

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vax-merstappen · 7 months

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on vacation with the f1 boys ✈️

i love to travel so this is just me being self indulgent lol. also disclaimer i know some of the pictures are not from the country i said the vacation is in, bear with me lol. hope you enjoy and drop me any pref requests you might have!

Lando Norris

Destination: Finland

Lando always went on a ski trip with his friends during the winter break and this year he invited you to go along. You started on the easier slopes, as you both had to get the hang of skiing again, but by the end of the day you were tackling some of the more difficult ones along with your group of friends. Afterwards, the group settled down in the ski lodge with cups of hot chocolate around a crackling fire. You all spent a few hours joking around and catching up after not having all been together for a while. To finish off the day, you and Lando went alone to the sauna where you had the chance to decompress together before heading to bed. All in all, the day was well spent and you asked Lando when you would be able to come back even though you knew the answer would be next year.

Oscar Piastri

Destination: New Zealand

During the winter break, you and Oscar did not want to travel too far from his home in Australia, so you decided to go to the nearby country of New Zealand. Both of you loved staying at the beach and so you decided to spend most of your days at the scenic shores of the country. After having a relaxing time at the beach, you decided to tour the country’s mountains together and to take in the beautiful views. A personal highlight for you is a romantic dinner with Oscar in the stunning city of Queenstown. All in all, it is a relaxing trip far from the pressures of racing that brings the two of you unforgettable memories.

Max Verstappen

Destination: Italy

For Max, a vacation was any time he could spend completely away from racing with you and his friends. So, instead of traveling far away from his apartment in Monaco, he wasted no time in going on a boating trip with all his favorite people along the Italian coast. You both spent days lounging on the deck together and nights drinking with the group at the yacht’s bar. The sea made for a perfect getaway from Max’s fast paced life and you could not be happier to get some time with your boyfriend in such a scenic place. Relaxing in the waves truly made for a great time.

Charles Leclerc

Destination: Los Angeles

Your favorite place to visit together was definitely LA. You both had friends who lived there so it only made sense to take a trip there when you both were free. You spent the days on the beach with him, either surfing if the waves were nice or simply sunbathing otherwise. Charles also convinced you to go on the most extreme rides at all of the amusement parks, giving you an adrenaline rush that kept you wanting more. So many laughs were had with each of your friends, especially when Charles insisted on winning you a giant Ferrari colored banana plush at the arcade. You had no idea where you would find space for it in your apartment, but you knew you would cherish the memories it brought to mind.

Carlos Sainz

Destination: Miami

To Carlos, it would not be a good vacation without some golf. So, you both decided to head to Miami where you could find the best of what both of you loved doing, golf and relaxing on the beach. While Carlos golfed in the mornings, you relaxed on the beachfront balcony of the house you were staying in. And during the afternoons, you would both head to the beach to relax in the sand and waves. One morning you decided to spice things up and have Carlos try to teach you to golf, but after accidentally hitting the ball into someone else’s golf cart, you quickly scrapped that idea. Your favorite memory of the trip was definitely the day you spent completely together on a snorkeling trip to see a nearby coral reef.

Lewis Hamilton

Destination: Dubai

When Lewis wasn’t racing, he still loved to be doing something adventurous. Lucky for him, you shared his love of an adrenaline rush. So the perfect destination was Dubai. Every day was filled with excitement, from riding ATVs though the desert to eating at luxurious restaurants in the city. Lewis even convinced you to go skydiving with him at the end of your trip which was an experience you knew you would never forget. There was never a dull moment when you and Lewis traveled together and you knew that once this vacation ended, you would already be planning for another.

Daniel Ricciardo

Destination: Austin

Everyone knew one of Daniel’s favorite places was Austin, Texas. So when he had a week off after the race in Texas, Daniel of course convinced you to stay with him on vacation there for the next few days. He took you to his favorite bars and barbecue restaurants to savor the food. He also took you to a ranch where you got to ride horses through the American countryside. On the last day of the trip, the two of you decided to go to a country music concert and dance the night away. Both of you loved music and so this was the perfect memory to end what was a great few days of exploring the Texan landscape. And of course you had to get a souvenir cowboy hat to remember the trip by.

Yuki Tsunoda

Destination: Mexico

As you and Yuki are both foodies, you decided to go to a place with one of your favorite cuisines, Mexico. You arranged to travel throughout the country to try different foods from various regions. Between meals, you would spend time seeing some of Mexico’s most scenic beaches and visiting some of the tourist destinations like Chichen Itza. The best part, however, was getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with your boyfriend who was always away from home. Though you knew Yuki lived the fast life, all you wanted to do with him was relax. And what better place to do it than in such a warm and beautiful country. As for your favorite food you tried? There were too many good dishes to choose!

Alex Albon

Destination: Phuket

Alex was thrilled when you agreed to go to the country he raced for. When you got there, he excitedly showed you around all of the sights and took you to eat his favorite local food. After a few days of frantically touring Alex’s favorite places, you both decided that it wasn’t truly a vacation unless you relaxed a little bit. So, you spent the rest of the week at the beach in each other’s arms, just savoring the other’s company. There were a few splash fights in the pool and the time where you jokingly pushed Alex off of the boat, but otherwise you spent your time relaxing on the sand. Thai sunsets were truly like no other and you knew you would savor your memories for years to come.

Logan Sargeant

Destination: USA

When you realized that Logan hadn’t traveled much around his own country outside of Florida, you immediately decided that you were going on a road trip to fix that. The plan was that you would go up the east coast, stopping in all of the major cities to see the sights. From Carolina beaches to the nation’s capital, there were surely a lot of things to do. And when you had a boyfriend who drove cars for a living, of course you got to the be the passenger princess. Every time a road sign showed something that sounded cool, you insisted that you stop. Your personal favorite destination was New York, where you got to show Logan a lot of the famous landmarks that everybody would recognize. Once you hit Boston, you decided to head back south to his home state and warmer weather. You would cherish these memories forever.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 preference #f1 fandom #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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hypnoneghoul · 4 months

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Sundown: Chapter 6

WC: 1,1K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain,Transfeminine Mountain, Angst, Lies, Identity Reveal, Heartbreak, Hurt no Comfort (in this chapter)

“No,” Mounty gasps, finally realizing. He scared her. “Swiss, no, that’s not–it can’t be–”

Read chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 6 under the cut or on AO3.

It took five months for Swiss’ past to catch up to him.

He knew it would—sooner rather than later, knowing his luck—but he really thought he would have more time to…come up with a plan. Anything, he would do anything to avoid more heartbreak, he had promised himself. And yet he failed at a simple task of being honest.

Life just never seems to have any mercy in store for him, so why would he even have hope?

It’s a busy evening in Mounty’s bar; it’s warm—the most important reason—but the word cozy also comes to mind. Even despite the spiderwebs, broken furniture and a distant smell of rotten wood. There are flowers, though, all year long, so very clearly Mounty’s touch. It’s her home and she loves it as it is—which makes Swiss love it, too—and such an atmosphere is inviting.

The cowboy is, as usual, hanging out by the bar, watching his girl work. She’s happy, he’s happy and it’s all good, until he hears a name he has been praying for months not to hear ever again.

“He ain’t so scary anymore!” a man from the other side of the bar laughs, and the people surrounding him follow. “He was a cunt, no idea where he got all that reputation from. The mighty Shadow nearly pissed himself!”

Another wave of booming laughter sounds and it hurts Swiss’ eardrums. He tenses, hands going clammy around the glass he’s holding, and listens in, despite his better judgment.

“He’s been hiding like a coward for months after that one failed heist, from what I’ve heard,” the man continues. “Snatched a chance when he peaked his ugly head out and now the bitch is done!”

Swiss’ blood boils and freezes in his veins at the same time. Mounty doesn’t notice; she’s too busy, and the man is grateful. The stranger in the corner keeps laughing with his companions as he insults the infamous Shadow and gloats about something he most definitely didn’t do.

Of course he didn’t.

Swiss doesn’t know what makes him snap. He only notices that he stood up when he feels the pulse of a man he’s holding against the wall by his neck under his hand.

“Swiss!” he hears Mounty call from behind the bar. The whole place is so quiet all of a sudden. “Let him go!”

The cowboy chokes the stranger slowly for a bit longer, staring into his terrified eyes. If he…if he actually were to finish off the Shadow, he would be the one to piss himself. He is about to prove it.

“You’re the cunt here,” he mutters before letting go.

Swiss storms off without sparing a glance in anyone’s direction again, not even Mounty. He all but runs out of the saloon and behind it, into the cold and dark where he sits on the wet ground and hangs his head. His eyes sting and he wants to just cry, but he can’t. He ran out of tears a long time ago.

He hears the squeak of the saloon’s batwing door and the shuffle of its additional covering that they have put on for the cold nights and he prays to anyone who’s willing to listen that it’s not–

“Swiss, darling,” Mounty whispers and the tone of it the–the fear in it breaks the man’s heart in half. He scared her.

He scared her.

He doesn’t reply, he can’t speak; it’s like there’s something lodged in his throat. Shame, most likely.

Despite her visible apprehension, the barmaid comes closer. She crouches by Swiss and just…waits. She waits for whatever may happen and she looks determined to do so for however long it may take.

He scared her.

Swiss simply breathes for a while before he dares to open his mouth again, “The–the Shadow. What do you know about…him?”

“Just the rumors,” Mounty shrugs, doing her very best to seem unbothered; casual about the whole ordeal, “but I don’t think I’d like to meet him. That won’t be a problem, though, ‘cause apparently he’s dead. Nobody’s seen him or heard of him for months and that man that you just…”

“He’s not dead,” Swiss interrupts—too sharp, too loud. He immediately hates himself for it, even more than he already did.

He scared her.

“How do you know?” she asks, much quieter.

The man swallows audibly against that mysterious something that’s suffocating him, “How many months do you think it’s been since…since he was last seen?”

“Hm…” The barmaid thinks for a moment, counting silently. “Something like five, probably.

Swiss chuckles sadly, locking his eyes on Mounty’s. He doesn’t speak—doesn’t explain—but he doesn’t need to. She’s a smart girl, and the sorrow, regret and shame in Swiss’ eyes are speaking louder and clearer than he ever could.

“No,” Mounty gasps, finally realizing.

He scared her.

“Swiss, no, that’s not–it can’t be–”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” is all he can say. He should have so much more to say, beg for forgiveness, but he can’t. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, that this is simply too big.

He gives up.

Mounty’s thoughts are racing, her breathing picks up, and her eyes widen. She’s an image of pure horror as she connects more and more dots. Swiss feels like throwing up.

“I’ve been…for months I’ve been dating–I’ve been sleeping with the world’s most famous criminal, I’ve–I’ve been…” she rambles, more to herself than the man. His whole body hurts. “I’m–I’m in love with the world’s most famous murderer.”

He scared her.

“Sweetheart, please, just–just hear me out, gimme a chance to explain before…” before he leaves, he wanted to say, because there is nothing else that can be done. He has to get the fuck out and away from her, from the most precious creature on the entire planet. One that he stained with his touch, with his lies. No hands that have so much blood on them should ever be allowed to touch something as pure as Mounty.

Thankfully, she doesn’t let him finish, “Explain what? That you lied to me and put on a whole ass fake personality to just…to just what, exactly?”

“It’s not like that, I just–” Swiss tires, but he’s not sure what it is that he’s trying to do. “I was running away! The Shadow…me, I–it’s not me, Mounty, please, let me–”

He scared her.

“Maybe I will,” she spits. “But certainly not now.”

“Momo, please,” the man falters and he’s about to fall to his knees and grab onto the barmaid’s feet and beg when she moves away. “Please, don’t be scared of me.”

“Too late, Shadow.” Mounty leaves him there, out in the cold darkness.

And Swiss finally cries.

#dont crucify me #pls #hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #swissalps' sundown

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colorful-bees · 5 months

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Volo's friendship story in the Trainer's Lodge is so interesting to me because it seemingly contradicts his usual way of thinking. He asks to take a commemorative photo with you in the event that the world disappears, obviously referring to what he wants to eventually accomplish in the future.

And I can only wonder why he does this. His exact words afterwards are, "Please remember me as you've seen me during our time together." He plans on erasing the world to build a better one, as per is goal in P:LA but the idea that he would want you to remember him as you knew him, someone who was simply friendly and nice to you, goes against how he views relationships with people. There's no transactional value to taking this photo with you nor is there for him wanting you to remember him fondly.

Volo is overly nice to people to get what he wants out of them, that's kind of his thing. You see it with the protag in P:LA, you see it with Jacq and Trevor, and later with Lear in the Mysterious Stones chapter. He likes to get in people's good books so that he might get something out of it later. But what does he want out of you in this interaction? What is he hoping to gain by telling you to remember him the way he is now? He plans on destroying the world and so... he asks to take a photo with you? I can only imagine that he wants it for himself since if the world disappears, you won't even be there to remember him in the first place. He plans on destroying the world and you won't even be there and yet, he still asks you to remember him.

I don't think Volo necessarily lied when he said, "It's just a matter of using them before they use you." Those were thoughts inside his head, he has no one to lie to there; that's what he truly believes. However, I do think there's a disconnect between the kind of person Volo is and the kind of person Volo believes himself to be.

I think maybe he does love his Pokemon, maybe he even wants to be your friend. I don't think he knows that though. His genuine view of himself is that he feels no love or care for others and relationships are just a means to an end and that is mostly how he comes across when showing his true colors. But he has moments that don't quite line up with that. He wants you to remember him fondly. He considers Pokemon tools and yet, there's that photo of him and Togepi. It's these two moments that make me question things. He looks after Togepi and in return, Togepi sticks by his side; that's their trade-off, what they both get out of their relationship. But the photo is what throws me off. If there wasn't even a little bit of love for Togepi, why does that photo exist? Why did he take it? Volo in this same conversation says, "Photos are wonderful things! They allow you to capture and isolate the best moments!" Why take a photo with something you don't love? Why consider that one of your "best moments?"

Volo honestly believes that he doesn't love his Pokemon and that he's no one's friend. That isn't a mask he's putting on, that's who he thinks he is and I can only assume that the reason for this is due to whatever event happened in his past that set him down this road to begin with. But he has these small moments that contradict that view of himself. Volo does have a capacity to care for his Pokemon, to have friends. I just don't think he realizes that. He's incapable of recognizing if he loves or even likes someone in a genuine way; so caught up in viewing every relationship like it's a barter or a trade that he has no idea that he can care and that maybe, at some points, does.

#hi these tags are long as fuck so just warning you #pokemon #pokemon volo #this friendship storyline gave me so many thoughts #these are not the words of someone who doesn't like you at least a little bit #what do you mean he wants us to remember him like that?#why? we won't even be there for it #and i'm reading a little too much into this so that's why this is in the tags #but it almost feels like an apology of sorts?#he knows he's going to reveal himself to be not as kind and helpful as he leads everyone to believe #and that will obviously be upsetting #but why is he telling us that that's going to happen? why give us a hint towards his true nature?#also the least important thing about this i just thought it was fun #it reminded me of the end of the pacifist route in undertale #when asriel asks frisk to remember him as the friend he was to them in that moment #and not the horrible monster he was and would eventually become again #so yeah not very important to anything i just wanted to get that thought out

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ghostlychief · 5 months

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OKIE, HI LOVE, I'm so excited. I would like to request Touch-starved! John. John, who didn't realize how it felt to be loved. John, who didn't know how nice it felt to be wanted for being just him. John, who's never had a hug in his life, stiffing when his partner gave him a hug before realizing how comforting it was. John, who doesn't know how to hug his partner back and is scared he'll hurt them.

Okay i love this idea so much. YOUR MIND CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME. Because John would TOTALLY be like this at first. Love touch-starved!John. For some reason the concept of the song Drops of Jupiter popped into my head when i thought of this John. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and hope you're doing well <3

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Drops of Jupiter

John-117/Master Chief x reader

no warnings, just fluff!

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John’s life can really only be measured by statistics, measured quantitatively. From the moment he was found on Eridanus II by Dr. Halsey, his life started to have meaning in the way of numbers. How fast was he growing? How much did he weigh? How much could he lift? Those numbers became one of the most important thing in his life. Besides that, he didn’t have much else to count for. His sole purpose was to train and become the best Spartan II the UNSC has ever seen.

That was until he decided to remove the hormonal pellet, lodged in the center of his lower back, resting in between his spine. Who knew how much power rested in something smaller than a quarter?

This pellet repressed his moods, making sure he was only ever objective, the thought of subjectivity a sin. It also dimmed hormones a normal person experiences in their every day life. Such as, the longing touch of a loved one. Or, the hope to feel accepted by one’s peers. These suppressors were supposed to make the ultimate, elite solider. It was supposed to help aid the Spartan’s on the battle field by making them mission oriented. Act first, ask questions later. As long as the mission was complete and a success, not much else mattered.

At first, John felt disoriented. He felt unbalanced by the new coming of emotions and hormones that spiraled around in his body. There was a crash of emotions washing over his entire body that he forgot he felt before, in a distant past life he wasn’t even sure really existed. It felt rickety, yet exciting. Everything seemed brand new to him. The clouds looked different, the grass brighter, the sun felt warm against his skin. He appreciated the stars that blanketed the sky on a moonless night.

For once, he felt like he completed the orbit around what his life was really about. He finally understood. Life wasn’t just about missions and killing the Covenant. No, there was so much more to it and he finally felt like he touched back home after a long, grueling journey, pulled down by the gravity of the new world he found himself in.

Shortly after his pellet was removed, he met you. You were a linguistic technician that worked closely with many of the people John worked with. You were an expert in Sangheili, which became a hot commodity skill to have in the impending months leading up to the human/Covenant war. John had actually crossed paths with you before, only in passing, but you have met, though not officially.

The day you sat across from him in the cafeteria was Johns’s first encounter with you since feeling different, feeling new. You were already half way seated when you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” John looked up at you, brows furrowed and nodded, but at this point you were already sat down at the table.

“I’d like to pick your brain about something if you don’t mind?” Your sweet voice traveled across to John in the noisy cafeteria and he found himself staring at you for a second before he mentally shook his head. “Sure?” He was still perplexed why you were here sitting with him. Usually no one approached the Spartans unless they were instructed to do so.

“Okay, so I’m in the linguistics department, specifically Sangheili, and I wanted to ask you about the encounters you’ve had with the Sangheili, specifically the higher ranked Sangheili.”

John felt himself slightly smiling at your rambling, but he made sure to hide it from you. He cleared his through them said, “Yeah, I remember you. We met in passing a couple years ago.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think you’d remember.” This time John made sure you noticed his smile, “Spartans have eidetic memory.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well, that’s good for all the questions I have for you then.” You then proceeded to talk to John about the Sangheili culture and how it related to their patterns of speech for the next two hours, time slipping away, fast through your fingers.

After that, John always felt a pull towards you, seemingly stuck in your orbit. If neither of you were on duty, you’d usually end up going on long walks. John told you about his past, like what it was like being in the Spartan program, and other adventures, like his mission on the Halos. You never interrupted him, and typically had follow-up questions, always curious to learn more about him.

The first time you touched him was when he was explaining how he was taken as a child by Dr. Halsey to be entered into the Spartan program. You rested your hand on his bicep, and your fingers slowly rubbed back and forth in a comforting notion. He at first stiffened, but then soon relaxed under your enchanting touch, longing to feel it again after you left his quarters that night.

He started to see more and more of you, and his feelings slowly and quietly developed into something akin to love, though he was never really sure what that word meant. Not until you. He imagined what love might have been, but could never quantify it since love never dealt in numbers or absolutes. It was abstract, confusing, with no concrete answer to it.

Though all of these new emotions felt confusing at times, John never felt confused by you. You simply loved him, not Master Chief or John-117, just John. Slowly but surely, John felt more comfortable with you, emotionally and also physically. Although Spartans are massive in their stature, people still forget how freakishly strong they actually are. Such as, John can easily flip over a Warthog. So, in dealing with you, he was extra cautious.

The first time you wrapped your arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug, he was worried about hugging back, afraid he would crush you, hurt you. He doesn’t remember ever receiving a hug like that, and he wanted to savor it, and feel it over and over again. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he would always pull you into random hugs through out the day, comforted by your beating heart against his.

John’s life, once measured only in numbers, in quantity, now could be measured by so much more. He was lucky, after all.

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an0nymousmessenger · 1 year

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For I'll Keep Every Promise

Synopsis: He wakes up. Word Count: 2.4k tags. fluff, angst, happy ending Sequel to 'A Thousand Wishes Unheard' note: I was going to post this later but I think you guys need it. Ao3 Link

Darkness. That was all he could see. He felt nothing– as if he was floating in a neverending void.

He was dead.

He had to be. He remembers the bitter taste of blood coating his mouth– the way he struggled and choked on the very thing that ran through his skin. He recalls the loud ringing in his ear, growing ever louder as his vision faded out.

Well, he supposed he tried his best. Really. He gave it his all.

It just wasn’t enough.

What remained of his heart ached. He supposed he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to you. He hopes you won’t blame him…he had held on till the very end.

Death wasn’t so bad. Before he went he was able to see his students, laughing and smiling, he even got to hold you close before he had left. Not to mention he even saw his friends again, and he had gotten to say goodbye.

He had no regrets.

Well…he supposes there is still one that lodges itself in the back of his mind.

It was you.

He had never gotten the chance to…

“Satoru,”

He turned his head to look at you, who was savoring your lollipop as you leaned back on the balcony.

Lemon flavored. The very sour kind.

He had a snide suspicion that it was to keep him away from stealing it…

“Satoruu~” you repeated, drawing his attention again.

“Hm?”

You flash him a smile, the kind of smile that lets him know that you are about to either stir up trouble or say something random.

It was the latter.

“What do you want to do when you're older?”

He snorts, “What kind of question is that? Of course– a sorcerer.” He wanted to add ‘what else?’ but decided it was obvious enough. Adding the last part would also ruin his good mood. His path has already been pre-designed and pre-routed for him. He has no other choice.

“No, what I mean is if all this didn’t exist.”

“Aw~ are you saying you would rather not have met me?” He sings out in a fake-pained voice, knowing that it was not what you meant.

You roll your eyes, having been used to his antics for a few years now, “Perhaps,” you say with a playful smile, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be better off.”

“Nah, I doubt it.”

You sigh before turning to face him. You widen your eyes when you notice he is already looking at you, but quickly move on, but Satoru doesn’t let the red creeping up on the tip of your ears go unnoticed. “I’m saying if you didn’t have cursed energy and stuff…like normal people, you know?”

He wanted to laugh and point out that it sounded like you were indicating that people like you and him were the odd ones, but he decided to let it slide.

“I dunno, maybe I’ll start a singing career, something like that.”

“Pfft, so what? That you’ll get even more admirers and fans?”

“Exactly! What? Don’t you agree? My face is pleasant to look at.”

Scoffing, you say, “One of these days I’ll make sure to crush that ego of yours.”

He rolls his eyes before looking back out at the school grounds, watching the sun slowly set behind the forest of trees. Although he had said the first thing that came from the top of his mind, he supposed singing wouldn’t be that far reached.

After all, he excelled at everything.

"How about you?" he asks. "Do you have something in mind already?"

Observing the setting sun, you reply, "Mhm, yeah. Something like that."

"Really?" He sounds surprised, not realizing how seriously you were considering it. "What is it?"

Hesitating, you eventually respond, "It's... nothing."

His interest is immediately piqued.

"Come on! What's your idea? Share it with me!" He playfully pesters you with a grin.

"No!"

"You can't tease me like that! I told you mine, didn't I?" He whines a bit more before eventually coaxing it out of you.

It was when he saw you sigh, watching as the tension left your shoulders that he knew he won.

“Fine, I’ll tell you then. But you can’t tell anyone else– okay?”

He makes a gesture of zipping his mouth and throwing the zipper away, his curiosity increasing. It always does when it comes to you.

“I want to be…” you wait a bit, as if for dramatic effect, “...an author.”

You turn to look at him after a moment’s silence before breaking out in laughter.

“Haha- what’s up with your face? Surprised?”

Indeed he was a bit surprised. An author? He had no clue. When it comes to you it seemed as if he's only ever scratched the surface. It made him want to know more, want to ask more.

He never does.

"An author," he echoes thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

He wanted to ask why, but you had already started talking.

“An author. I guess it’s because I want to write stories, I grew up reading them you know? Made me feel safe.”

A hint of melancholy graces your smile as your thoughts drift elsewhere; it's a different kind of smile than the one before–a sadder smile.

"Who knows? I'm sure being a sorcerer has provided ample material for incredible stories. I'll be entirely unique. Maybe I'll even include tales about overcoming curses and how people like us save the day."

"Why not add in a ridiculously handsome guy who defeats all the curses with seamless ease too? Make sure 'remarkably attractive' is emphasized."

Laughing, you playfully smack his arm. "Okay, Satoru. I'll consider it."

He couldn’t help but break out into an amused smile. What an odd dream, he thought. Though he supposed he wasn’t against it.

Satoru Gojo excelled at everything, yet nothing he achieved seemed to measure up to you.

He felt his mind start to drift and fade away, threatening to join the other souls in their lost journey home. Wait…he called out. He didn’t want to go just yet. He wanted more time, more time to replay his memories, to live in them just for a second longer.

“Satoru,”

He could hear your voice, calling him in that familiar and recognizable way that was only special to you.

“Satoru.”

He wished he could’ve told you how much he loved hearing you say his name, it rolls off your tongue so nicely. He was never one to care about names, it never mattered to someone like him.

All he needed was Gojo – a name denoting his status, lineage, and power. His first name barely held any weight compared to his clan's. No one needed to know who Satoru was, no one ever did…so he couldn’t have cared less for his name- and yet you somehow made him love his name– only when you say it does it sound special– like it’s his name like he is someone.

Someone other than the honored one. Someone other than the strongest.

“Satoru!”

There were a lot of things he never got to tell you, another thing to add to his regrets. If only he had been brave enough…if only he had picked up his courage and told you everything.

“Satoru- please!”

He paused. Ah- what is that feeling? He could feel something wet fall onto his face. Was it raining? How could that be? How could he feel if he was dead?

And yet that warmth around his face only made him more confused. He could feel as if someone was holding them, cupping his face carefully as if he could break.

"Please wake up… Satoru, I beg you…"

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

The first thing he saw when his vision came back into focus was your face. Your crying face looking down at him with your hands cupping his face.

Then he looked around, realizing that the battlefield on which he had been sliced in half was gone. He was in a room, a hospital room.

He looked down and saw the rest of his body, no longer split into two. Had Shoko done this?

“Satoru!”

He returned his gaze to you. You were smiling, smiling, and crying.

Questions, so many questions flooded through him at that moment, but he decided that he could ask those later. Right now was more important, right now felt like it was all happening inside a dream.

“Hey…crybaby, seems like you you missed me?” He teased with a small grin.

You gave him a look through your tear-soaked face as if you couldn’t even believe what he was saying.

“Y-You! You bastard! You annoying– infuriating- stupid dumbass!”

“Aw, come on…” he drags, “You don’t mean those…do you hm?” Although the tone in his voice is light– playful even as if he hadn’t just returned from death, as if all he wanted right now was to live this moment to the fullest, he was dearly wishing this– whatever this was– to last a little longer.

He slowly brings his trembling arm to hold onto yours, he wanted to hold on to you tight, as if everything he was seeing was about to break, to fall apart for him to realize it was all a dream.

He waited for you to disappear, to return to the part of his imagination that was playing tricks on him.

Instead, you move sideways to hug him, crying onto his shoulders.

"No...no, I don't," you managed through choked sobs.

He hummed softly, "I guess I kept my promise after all, huh?"

You nod into his shoulder, still holding him tightly.

You and him fall into a comfortable silence, he lets you cry on his shoulders just as how you let him hold onto you.

Several minutes passed before you pulled away, sniffling and attempting to compose yourself while wiping away tears with your sleeve.

Satoru wanted to reach out and wipe them for you, but his newly healed injuries did not allow him to, moving his hand had already been hard.

It went on like that for a while; you sniffling and crying as Satoru stared at you quietly, taking everything about you in as if this was the last time he was going to see you, just the same way he did on that night underneath the torii gate, using his eyes to try to imprint every detail, everything, every aspect of you into his memory.

That night felt like a lifetime away.

He was the first to break the silence, “Where are the others?”

By now you had calmed down, and were able to answer in a coherent way, “Recovering…everyone is- they’re fine.”

Fine. Not good, but fine.

He’ll take it for now.

“We managed to win and…” you give him a look, “you know…the students declared their victory for you,” You say with a smile.

His students. They managed to do it, just as he thought they could. He sighed contently.

You then spend the next half hour going over exactly what had happened after he had passed out, how Kashimo had come out right after him, and how eventually the rest of the students joined in.

In the end, they had managed to pull through, but it wasn’t over. Sukuna had been dealt with, Megumi’s condition was unknown, and Kenjaku was nowhere to be found.

Shoko had indeed been the one to heal him. Immediately after the battle they were able to recover his body and managed to heal him back together just in time.

“We- we almost- I didn’t know if we made it in time or not…” You say, choking up again. He could see the tears you were desperately trying to hold back, to look brave in front of him, trying to break through.

“Hey, I’m right here, aren’t I?” He beckons you to come closer.

He eventually holds you in his arms, drawing slow circles on your back, as he knows it calms you, “Shhh, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere else.”

You mutter, “Better not,” which causes him to laugh.

He wanted to let this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, just you and him.

“This…this is real– right?” He says quietly, and in such a small voice he doubted you had heard him.

You raise your head to look at him, the soft kind of smile he’s always known playing on your face, “Yes, Satoru. This is real, as real as it can be.”

He can feel himself start to tear up, because if he had to be honest- he was scared too, he was terrified, but he had no choice. He had to play his role, his role as the strongest.

But now he could just be Satoru, just him holding onto you, keeping you close.

“Then I’m glad.”

Bonus:

“Gojo Sensei!” Yuji, the always energetic kid exclaimed as he ran into the room, followed by You, Maki, Yuta, Nobara, Panda, Inanumaki, Shoko, and everyone else.

They all had recovered for the most part and seemed to be relatively okay. They all wore relieved expressions as they entered the room to see that their Sensei was alright.

Yuji was the first to arrive at his Sensei’s bedside.

“Hey, kid!” Gojo Sensei waved. He had recovered enough to prop himself up and do basic movements, which to Shoko had been a miracle itself.

Yuji then began launching himself into the things that had happened while Gojo had been recovering, and Gojo returned the energy. Everyone got their turn, talking until visiting times were over and they had to be ushered out.

You were the last to leave. Just before you turned the doorknob Satoru called after you, “Hey- wait.”

You turn around, waiting for what he wants to say.

“When- uh when this is all over and when you have some free time, let me take you out, yeah?”

You barely ever heard Satoru Gojo stumble over his words, and when he did you know it was because he was nervous, and everyone knows Satoru Gojo is never nervous, yet that always seemed to be the exception when it comes to you.

You found it cute, the way he would try to seem aloof as the back of his neck became a beautiful shade of bright red.

“Yeah, but let’s save that for when you recover.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be up and ready by next week,” he says as if it were a fact, his blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter.

You sigh, even after coming back on the brink of death he still acts like a child, but you smile nonetheless, “Next week it is then.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #fluff

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mountains-and-muses · 3 months

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Lord Darigan x King Roo Part 2

A gathering of the leaders of Neopia wouldn’t be complete without the moments of letting those who were deemed “lesser” know their place. That’s how Lord Darigan found himself once again appealing to the kindness of King Roo.

“I appreciate you allowing me to stay in this wing with you,” Darigan said, a genuine gratitude in his voice. After his altercation with King Skarl earlier in the meeting chambers, Darigan had found that his lodgings for the trip had been set up in the alabriss pen. He hadn’t been surprised by this necessarily, this was the kind of treatment he’d endured for the two decades since the war.

King Roo only nodded, which seemed unusual to Darigan, even though he’d only known him for a short time.

“Is something wrong?” An uncharacteristic concern was knocking at the back of Darigan’s brain. Perhaps, after seeing the interaction with King Skarl earlier had changed Roo’s mind about this budding friendship. How could Darigan be so stupid, letting in someone like that, a well-liked and respected member of society? It was foolish. It was…

Darigan’s thoughts were interrupted by the tail end of King Roo’s response, so quiet that he almost missed it entirely.

“…unkind.”

Darigan blanched. Of course, Roo thought him unkind. He shouldn’t have antagonized Skarl. The alabriss pen he could have dealt with, but this…this was painful.

“I mean, the way he treats you is heinous! You were making a valid contribution at least. Not like me and my idiotic suggestion of a game.”

“Wait. What?” Darigan’s mouth hung open, barely believing the words he was hearing. Was King Roo upset…on his behalf?

“Oh, come now, anyone with eyes could see how you were treated in those chambers today. I’ll admit, when you told me about it I thought, or perhaps hoped, you were exaggerating. I mean, I can only imagine the things Count Von Roo would say about me. Plenty would be justified, as you well know, but that…the anger and vitriol directed at you,” King Roo looked at him, eyes shining on the brink of tears, “How do you stand it?” A fat teardrop rolled down the blumaroo’s face.

Lord Darigan stood, shell-shocked and silent. No one, in all his life, had ever cried for him. Cried because of him, certainly. And he himself had cried in frustration, anger, rage, and grief. But there was something about the tears from Roo that were different. Darigan wanted to reassure him, comfort him in some way.

“I keep to myself. In my chambers at the Citadel. I bother none, and I do not leave. It was only the summons from King Altador and Queen Fyora that permitted me to travel here.”

More tears welled up in the King’s eyes. “That sounds so, so…lonely,” he cried, covering his face.

Darigan considered this, thinking carefully on a response. He would do anything to stop those tears. “I do not find it lonely. I often have meetings with Galgarroth, one of my Generals. Though we no longer have an official army, it felt wrong to strip him of a hard-earned title. And every so often a random Neopian finds their way into my chambers,” Darigan paused for a moment, “Perhaps…I should create a game for them to play there?” At this, he attempted a smile. It felt strange on his face.

King Roo choked out a laugh, “Now you are mocking me!” He wiped his eyes and looked back at Darigan.

“Not at all. I think I heard just earlier that they’re great for cheering people up.”

Roo blushed a deep blue. “I just hate the idea of a war. Weapons, fighting, armies and battles. If this greyification is causing sadness, how will that help?”

“Don’t fret. I thought it was a novel idea, and better than others that were voiced. King Kelpbeard has been itching for another war for ages…winners usually do,” he added, ruefully.

“And what about you, Lord Darigan? Do you wish for a war?”

Darigan shook his head vehemently, “No, never again. The last war…so much was lost.”

“Your general, you mean? Not the one you meet with now, but another, I’ve heard stories.”

“Kass. My general, and my friend. The voices of the Three corrupted him. Specters of the worst parts of Neopia. Greed, Revenge, and Ambition. They appeared to me as well, but found me to be…lacking. In him, they found their champion. When he failed them…” Darigan paused, reliving what he had relived a million times before, “He is gone now.”

King Roo reached out, taking Darigan’s hand and squeezing it. “I am sorry for the loss of your friend. That must have been very painful.”

Darigan simply nodded.

“Do you think the Three are involved in what’s currently happening?”

Darigan took a deep breath, meeting the eyes of King Roo. “If they are, I fear all hope may already be lost.”

Roo opened his mouth to respond, at the same moment a Roo Island courtier bounded in, looking frantic.

“Your Majesty!” The green blumaroo looked between Darigan and Roo for a moment before beginning, “I have grave news.”

King Roo tilted his head, concern darkening his eyes, “What is it, Antoine?”

“The voids Dr. Landelbrot asked to be collected. They…they’re being found in just three places. Brightvale, Meridell, and…and Roo Island.”

Darigan felt the legs of the King go out from under him as he collapsed. Without a moment’s hesitation, Darigan held him up, one arm around his waist and the other pressed between the two of them, where his hand was still clasped tightly in the King’s.

#neopets #the void within #neopia #king roo #lord darigan

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unseededtoast · 1 year

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Light As A Feather | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Inspired by Hozier's "I, Carrion (Icarian)"

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: General violence, angst, pining. Poorly Edited

a/n: howdy folks. I'm still in my spencer reid/hozier brainrot era and so here's another. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you for all of the support I've received, it means the world!!

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather.

You had never been to Colorado before, and now you wish you could be here under different circumstances. It's the beginning of fall and it seems as if the people of Boulder are head over heels in love with the season. Which is understandable, you think you'd love fall this much too if you lived in a place this beautiful. The trees are painted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red and the distant mountains stand proudly in the background with their snow capped tops. Your eyes are glued to the lush landscape as the SUV drives through Boulder to reach your destination.

You, along with the rest of your team, were called by the Park Rangers from the Rocky Mountain National Park about a few bodies they had discovered. Your superior, Hotch, decided their case was odd enough for you all to pay a visit. At first you hadn't wanted to come, convinced that there would be something closer to home to tend to, but now you're glad you agreed to come. Fall time in Quantico just isn't as picturesque.

Eventually, the SUV you're crammed into alongside three of your other team members drives up a long winding driveway to a hidden cabin in the woods. Hotch had booked the place, seeing as how close it is to the National Park and how secluded it is from potential people of interest. Once again, you tried to argue that the cellphone reception would be terrible up here and that it might hinder the case, but you were outvoted, and the rest of the team wanted to stay here. You hadn't understood why, but when the venue comes into view your jaw almost drops and you understand.

The cabin isn't at all what you had been expecting. Instead of some run-down, small, stuffy house, you see a large, sprawling log mansion. There are large windows adorning the front, accompanied by a wraparound porch on the second level. It's very reminiscent of a tasteful ski lodge.

"Wow." You breathe out as the car comes to a stop outside the front door.

"Still think it's a bad idea?" Hotch smarts off as he opens the trunk and starts handing people their bags. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab your bag from him and stare up at your home for the next few days.

The rest of the team wastes no time in going inside to claim their room, but you're happy to meander around for a little bit to familiarize yourself with the layout. You'll let them fight over the rooms and take whatever is left. After all, in a place of this size, even the smallest room is bound to be plentiful.

As you go through the halls admiring the artwork on the wall you spot Spencer doing the same, staring at a particular painting on the wall. You take just a second to appreciate the way he looks, standing there and analyzing art. You've always had an appreciation for Spencer, and not just for his good looks, but also his intelligence and his company.

Since your first day at the FBI you've felt drawn to him, he made you feel important, and heard, when others dismissed you. In fact, he's the reason you're on the BAU team in the first place. He was the only one to recognize your abilities and talents. You try not to hold a grudge about the fact the rest of the team was ready to let you transfer out after your internship. But instead of standing there and gawking at him like some braindead fool, you walk up to him, setting your bag on the floor beside your feet.

You look at the painting that's caught his attention and try to see what he does, try to think about how he interprets it. His mind is an amazing, complex thing, and you hope that one day you'll be able to understand just a small portion of it. It's a painting of the Great Rocky National Park, you can tell from the mountain formation and the river running through it. The painting is almost an identical match, as if it's actually a picture rather than painting. However, there's one small spot on the painting that looks like it's been painted over and over, it sticks out to you.

"What do you think happened there?" You point out the flaw and look up to Spencer, whose eyebrows are drawn closely together as he leans in and looks at the spot. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he stands back to his full height.

"I'm not sure. It looks like maybe the painter had difficulties finding the right shade." He says, still staring at the spot. Your eyes linger on his face before tearing them away before he catches on.

"You're probably right. I'm going to go find what room they left me." You say, grabbing your bag from beside you. Spencer bends over to pick up his as well,

"I should probably do the same." A small smile adorns his face, and the two of you begin walking through the cabin to find the empty rooms the team left you. According to the venue's website there should be one room for each agent, and you're thankful for that. You had never been a fan of sharing room with your coworkers, something about it just feels wrong, but when there's no way to avoid it you endure without much fuss.

The two of you check every room on the first floor only to find that they had all been claimed, meaning you two had to climb the stairs for rooms on the second level. Of course the rest of them would all claim the first floor rooms first, nobody likes to bother with stairs first thing in the morning.

You and Spencer find the empty rooms, side by side with direct access to the porch. You suppose there are worse rooms to have. Eager to step out onto the porch, you toss your bag on the bed and open the sliding door. Colorado's crisp air envelopes you as you step out and you take a deep breath. The air out here feels so clean and refreshing. Great Rocky National Park is directly in front of the porch, giving you an eagle's eye view of a portion of it as you lean onto the banister. Might as well enjoy a little bit of peace before you start working the case.

-----

"Three women were found in the same spot days apart from each other. All bludgeoned and stabbed through the heart." The Park Ranger speaks, indicating to the crime scene that's been barricaded with yellow tape. The Ranger stares at the scene, which is now an inconspicuous patch of dirt and grass, as if there weren't several dead women resting here. The scene is right beside a big body of crystal blue water.

You hang back from the rest of the team, opting to look at the surroundings instead of the immediate scene. The team knows now that finding the tiny details is your forte, and they leave you to your own devices in the beginning of investigations. The cold breeze causes you to hold your too-thin jacket closer to your body as you begin your observations.

"They were all found in the same spot?" Hotch asks the Ranger, who confirms that all of the victims were found in the exact same spot. As you examine the landscape, your eyes narrow in an attempt to find even the subtlest detail. Before too long, you see something out of place in the lush grass and walk over to it while pulling on a pair of gloves.

There's a pamphlet laying in the grass and upon further examination you see that it's been marked up like someone gave the traveler directions. Directions right to this spot. The killer lured at least one victim here. This trail is far off the beaten path, it's not marked by the Rangers. Only someone familiar with the area would know about it.

"Look at this." You call out to your team, and soon a few of them join your side to examine what you found. Spencer and Morgan look over your shoulder at the pamphlet, which is in better condition than you would've thought considering it was laying in grass beside a body of water.

"They're familiar with the area, they had this planned." Spencer speaks up and you nod your head, agreeing with him. Morgan holds out an evidence bag once he's done looking at it and you slip it inside, protecting it from any further damage. Morgan walks off with the pamphlet, leaving you and Spencer together, both deep in thought.

"What have you come up with so far?" You ask softly, curious to see if his theories line up with yours. Spencer shifts his weight and sighs, looking back to the crime scene.

"The killer is organized. They lured at least one victim right to this spot, and I'm assuming they did the same with the others. And they had to have brought the weapons with them. While there are branches to bludgeon people with, there's no evidence of anything nearby being cut down recently. If they used a natural object, it's likely they would've tried to blend it back in with nature." He explains and you nod your head along with what he's saying as you observe the scene and the scenery surrounding you.

"Unless they tossed the weapon into the water. They could have easily used a rock to bludgeon the victims." You counter his explanation. Spencer and you always did this with one another when forming theories. Not as to dissuade, or prove the other wrong, but to make your theories and explanations stronger. It's one of the qualities you most like about him. His eyes drift to the water.

"They could have. But they had to have brought the knife, there's no natural substitute that would leave that precise of a wound." He says, and you relent, agreeing with him.

"I want to question the Rangers, get their work schedules, and see the call logs. I also want to know where the victims were staying and if there's any camera footage of them in the welcome center." You shiver with a gust of wind and hold your arms tighter around your body as you walk off to gather the information you want.

Spencer decides to join you in going to the welcome center, claiming that in a huge national forest that none of us should be traveling alone. He has a good point, but you wouldn't have objected to his company either way. The Ranger from the scene escorts you two to the welcome center in his cruiser, the warm air letting your fingers regain their feeling.

"Who found the bodies?" You ask as you hold your hands in front of the vent emitting warm air. The Ranger looks at you through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"I found one and Birch found the others during his patrols." He answers and you mentally make a note to find Birch.

"Is that area regularly patrolled?" You push further for more information and the Ranger shakes his head.

"No, it wasn't, until I found the first girl. She had to have been out there for at least three days. After that I sent Birch out to keep an eye on the area. He found victim two a couple days after the first, and found the third a single day after the second." He says and you look to Spencer, both noting the decrease in time between kills. A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that if you don't find the killer soon, then you may be finding a fourth victim any day now.

Once you reach the welcome center, the Rangers are more than happy to provide you with the security camera footage, work schedules, call logs, and anything else you may need. In fact, it's Ranger Birch that hands over the information himself. He's a young man, maybe mid twenties, with meticulously groomed hair and pressed uniform pants.

"Thank you." You tell him with a warm smile, taking the footage and other information off the counter and into your hands. He nods back with a wide, white-toothed smile and tells you and Spencer to come back if you need anything else. The moment you step out of the welcome center you give Spencer a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think?" He asks you before you can ask him. You lick your lips and glance back into the welcome center, Ranger Birch still looking at you. Your eyes find Spencer's and you motion for him to follow you.

"I think he takes pride in both his appearance and work, and he knows the park well." Hotch pulls up in a black SUV to pick you and Spencer up to return you to the cabin, where the entire team will discuss what's been found so far.

-----

The trip up to the cabin only takes about ten minutes. Your mind works to put pieces of the puzzle together the entire trip back, but there's just not enough known information yet, and it bothers you. You like to have answers quickly because the faster you get answers, the less people will die. Your leg bounces up and down the entire way back, eager to begin deciphering the evidence.

The SUV comes to a stop outside the cabin and before Hotch can turn the car off, you're out and making your way to the entrance. A man dressed in a casual flannel shirt hunched over the flowerbeds stops you in your tracks before you get to the front door. He wipes the dirt from his landscaping gloves onto his worn overalls as he greets you.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm James, I do the landscaping work around here and a few other cabins nearby." He offers you a warm smile, which you try your best to return, but your anticipation is causing you to become short.

"Nice meeting you." You go to walk into the cabin, but James' voice stops you once more. Spencer and Hotch approach, engaged in a conversation likely pertaining to what happened at the welcome center.

"Wait, ma'am. I never caught your name." James smile is reminiscent of an old friend, and he looks at you expectedly. Against your best wishes, you answer him, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude to your host.

"We'll, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I'll catch you around before you head out. Are you here for work?" He continues his conversation as Spencer and Hotch walk into the cabin undeterred by the landscaper. Maybe if you had just slowed down one of them would've been caught instead. James' eyes linger on the items in your hands.

"Yeah, the whole team is here for work." You answer, shuffling some items around in your grasp. James nods his head and tears his gaze away from the items, the warm smile returning to his face.

"Must be some important work if a whole team is here. By the looks of you all I'd say you're some sort of police." He guesses, eyeing the firearm that's strapped to your thigh. Your eyes narrow at the man, and you nod.

"Yeah, something like that. I really have to get going, they're probably waiting for me in there. Have a nice night, James." You find your exit route out of the conversation with the friendly mannered landscaper. As you step through the door you hear his voice call out to you once more.

"If there's anything I can do to help, number's in the guestbook." The door closes, and the conversation finally ends.

Taking a cleansing breath, you join the rest of the team who are all gathered around the rectangular dining table, which has been designated as the investigation headquarters. On the table are a slew of files, photos, and papers. You add the information gathered from the welcome center to that collection and Hotch starts the conversation.

Hotch reviews the known information and circulates photos of the victims. They're all beautiful young women, and according to Garcia, were staying at nearby resorts and cabins for vacation. The photos get passed to you and you look at them intently, committing to memory every detail you can absorb before you pass them along. It's obvious that these victims were chosen because of their physical appearance, they all share the same basic features such as hair color, eye color, and stature. And eerily, you seem to match the profile as well.

"The physical appearance of the victim is important to the unsub. Having three victims with similar features is no mistake, nor is it a coincidence." You add to the conversation, seeing your team members look from you to the photos on the table.

"Maybe the victims represent someone who scorned the unsub? Extracting revenge through them." Spencer suggests, and it's a good theory. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip as your mind races with theories and trying to piece the information together like a puzzle.

After the general briefing, Hotch assigns Morgan and Prentiss to interview the Park Rangers to establish alibis, JJ and Garcia to continue conducting their online investigation, and Spencer and yourself to go over the welcome center footage. Hotch was going to speak to the people running the cabins the victims were staying at to see if there are any leads there.

You and Spencer are on the second hour of footage when your eyes start becoming heavy. Reaching for the remote, you pause the footage and stretch, needing to take a break.

"You want some coffee?" You ask him, needing something to keep yourself awake. He nods his head,

"Yes, please." You stand from your seat and go to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some coffee. You're sure to put an ungodly amount of sugar in Spencer's, knowing that if you don't you'll hear him complain about it. And most times you enjoy the sound of his voice, but you don't know if you can stand hours of CCTV footage and him complaining about a lack of sugar right now.

You return to the table and place his mug in front of him, steam rising from it. You sip your own and resume your position at the table and reach for the remote. Spencer reaches for it at the same time, your hands brushing one another's. His hand is warm and soft, perfect for the chilly autumn air.

"Sorry." You say, pulling your hand away and forcing any other thought than the footage from your mind, knowing that there's already a faint pink adorning your cheeks. No matter how long you've worked with him, even just simple touches is enough to send you spiraling if you let it. You try not to delve into what that might mean; you profile people for a living, the last thing you want to do is profile yourself. Without a word, Spencer just smiles back politely and presses play.

The footage rolls and you two identify the victims who all showed up unaccompanied, which you find odd considering they were on vacation with their families. Your hand jots down quick notes in sloppy handwriting as you critically examine what you do, and don't, see in the footage. Spencer and you replay the footage showing the victims easily five times each, both silently taking notes, knowing you're going to compare soon. After watching the third victim's footage for the last time, you look over to Spencer, who's face is illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun.

"Do you want to go first?" He asks and you nod, trying not to stare at how the sunlight reflects the amber color in his warm prismatic eyes. You look down to your notes and try to get your thoughts straight before speaking.

"I noted that all three victims walked into the welcome center with a pamphlet already in hand. None of them took the ones provided by the park. They all showed up alone. I can only assume that the unsub gave them the pamphlets with instructions on how to find the scene. Only, I'm willing to bet it was framed as a good-intentioned suggestion. There's no way those women would have gone if they didn't trust the unsub to some degree." Your eyes glance from your horribly written notes up to Spencer, who's leaning on the table, clinging to every word you say. He hums in consideration before he speaks up.

"I would agree. And if the victims were all staying at tourist destinations, those pamphlets were likely already there. So now the question is whether or not the unsub talked to them at their cabins or before they walked into the welcome center." He says, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unsub to speak to them at their cabins? I mean, if the unsub caught them in the parking lot there's a chance they might have their families with them. But if the unsub spoke to them at their cabins, the women might be persuaded to leave their families behind for some reason." You say, going with the logical deductions that pop into your mind. Spencer mulls over your words, his eyes narrowing, staring back at you in deep thought.

"You're right. The unsub likely works for the resorts. It would give them access to the victims and it wouldn't be weird for them to give suggestions to guests." He confirms what you thought and you look back to the screen, seeing the third victim frozen in time.

"We should let the team know." You say and Spencer nods. The two of you finish off your coffee and wait for the rest of the team to arrive. You're confident that the two of you have a solid lead on this case. You only hope you can find the unsub before there's a fourth victim.

-----

The sun sets on the scenic landscape and you lean against the banister of the wraparound porch. The rest of the team isn't back yet, and the last thing you want to do is stay inside when it's so beautiful out here. The snowcapped mountain in the distance gleams brilliantly, and it's almost blinding, but you can't look away. Sounds of water rushing and birds chirping fill the air and if you let your mind relax enough it's almost like you're not here to solve murders.

Your head rests atop of your arms on the railing and you breathe in the cool air. The breeze gently blows your hair around, sending a shiver up your spine. You had severely underestimated how cold it would be here, and as a result, you failed to pack adequately because you were basing your packing off of Virginia fall time temperatures, which are noticeably warmer.

The sliding door opens and you turn to see Spencer walking out of his room. He joins your side and leans forward on the railing, looking out at the breathtaking view. His curly brown hair gets blown into his face, and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. You're also enjoying the breathtaking view.

He looks at peace, which is not something you usually see in him. His mind works overtime almost twenty four hours a day, especially on cases. It has to be torturous sometimes, to never get a reprieve from your own thoughts; and that's something you know all too well. There are some nights where you can't sleep because gruesome memories from the job haunt you.

Noticing that you're staring at him, you turn your gaze back to the colorful trees. The two of you enjoy a moment of tranquility together, a rare moment in the fast-paced career you pursued. A bird flies by, and you can only imagine what that freedom feels like. Most times you feel like your job keeps you cemented in one place, always dealing with death and the most heinous monsters that reside in this world. You often forget just how beautiful and free life can be.

A particularly crisp breeze comes through and you visibly shiver, which Spencer notices. Without a word, he goes into his room and comes back moments later with the throw blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed. It's burnt orange in color and is made of faux fur, warm and soothing. Spencer drapes it over your shoulders and you hold onto the ends, keeping it secure around you. If you could stay in this moment forever, you would.

Spencer stands so closely beside you that you feel his warmth coming through the blanket, and without much thought, or care, you lean into him just slightly. He makes no effort to move, and the two of you stay like that for what seems like an eternity. His warmth and his smell are so comforting and makes you feel safe. Deep down in your heart you know he makes you feel at home.

The two of you enjoy each other's company in a peaceful silence. There's never been the need to fill the silence with him, like there is the others. While you two are quite talkative in the team dynamic, when you find yourselves alone it's often relaxed with no expectations. You two talk when you want, or is needed, but when there's nothing to say you're more than happy to just be around him. And you hope he feels the same about you, and you think he does, but you're never brave enough to ask for fear of ruining whatever relationship it is that you two share.

Sighing, you cuddle yourself further into the blanket as the sun dips lower and lower, the golden hue turning orange. Spencer moves beside you, and you see his fingers twitch, like he was going to reach out for something but doesn't. Your head turns to look at him above you, and his head lowers, so that your eyes meet one another.

You had always known his eyes were beautiful, but up this close you can truly admire the depth of them. The golden hues remind you of the sunsets, the green in them is like the rich moss that adorns the sides of the rocks; or like the pine needles on the tall trees, and the brown is reminiscent of swirling espresso. Taken aback from his closeness and the heat creeping up your spine, your lips fall open and his eyes glance between them and your eyes. He's so close to you, your bodies practically pressed against one another. You feel yourself being drawn to him, like he has his own magnetic pull.

But whatever was about to happen is cut short by the rest of the team arriving back to the cabin. You and Spencer seem to come back to reality and step away from one another. Flustered, you unwrap the blanket from your shoulders and hand it back to him, already missing the warmth.

"Thank you." Your voice is soft and tender, and his hand brushes your own as he grabs the blanket from you.

"Of course." He smiles softly back, and the two of you part ways to join the rest of your team downstairs to catch up on the latest information. But you can barely pay attention to what is being said, for your mind is drowning with flashes of Spencer out on the porch.

-----

The next morning you wake up as the sun shines in through the windows, illuminating the room beautifully and warmly. Hotch had given everyone the night to mull over the information and said that the investigation will pick right back up in the morning. After you get dressed and ensure your service weapon is properly attached to the harness around your thigh, you make your way down the stairs for a morning cup of coffee. Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch are already sat at the table, picking at some toast for breakfast as they get the sleep rid from their systems.

You make a cup for yourself and Spencer, knowing he will be up any moment now. As per usual, too much sugar gets put into his and then you pour your own. The warm drink calms your nerves and you close your eyes, trying to get your mind prepared for whatever the day may bring. You know there may very well be a fourth victim found soon and you need to be on the top of your game to find the unsub.

"Good morning." A raspy voice makes your eyes open, and you see Spencer walking into the kitchen, dressed in a button up and tie. It's quite casual for him, but you like it, it looks nice on him.

"Good morning, made yours right here." You say and nod over to the mug on the counter. He looks from you to the mug with a smile on his face.

"Thanks." He says, and the two of you stay in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee and waiting for Hotch to give everyone orders.

"Feeling good about today?" It's something you always ask when an investigation seems to be coming to a close. You think it sets a tone, an expectation that the team will succeed. Spencer sips his drink and nods,

"I feel good about today." He confirms, flashing his bright white smile.

Last night, after the team had arrived, Hotch had shown everyone the list of employees from the neighboring resorts and cabins and today the team will be interviewing those employees. You're convinced the unsub has to be on that list and you intend to find out who it is. The questions have already been sorted in your mind, though you're able to adapt to anyone's personality and are prepared to get answers.

"Same teams as yesterday, we're going to divide and conquer." Hotch says, handing each team a list of names. You look down at the list he handed you and see that there are a total of fifteen employees for the small resort that you and Spencer are covering. It catches your attention that seven of the fifteen are women, and you mentally place them lower on your suspect list. This doesn't seem like a crime women usually commit, no, this seems like the work of a man as evidenced by the brute force used.

Morgan and Prentiss take off in one car, Hotch takes another, leaving you and Spencer with your own SUV. The two of you gather your needed materials, such as photos and notepads, before you head out. Spencer grabs the keys and tells you that he's going to warm up the car as you finish organizing your things, and you're grateful for that. Sitting in a cold car doesn't really appeal to you right now.

Once you're content with the items you've chosen to bring along you head out of the cabin. The bright light almost blinds you, and you squint in order to see. From the corner of your eye you see something move, and when you turn to look you see it's the landscaper from the other day, already flagging you down. Resisting the strong urge to just ignore him, you wait for him to reach you on the porch steps. He looks like he's already been hard at work today, he's covered in dirt and sweat.

"Well good mornin'. Got anything interesting going on today?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the light with his gloved hand. You shift your weight and look to the running SUV, already planning your escape route out of this conversation.

"Uh, yeah, you could say it'll be an interesting day." You reply as politely as you can. James smiles widely at your response.

"What sort of thing you have planned?" He asks and you sigh, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.

"I'm not at liberty to say, but I've gotta go, my partner is waiting for me." You excuse yourself from the conversation before he can get another word in. From behind you, you hear him say.

"Well alright then, I'll be around if you need anything." As you slide into the driver's side of the car and hand your bag to Spencer, you see the man heading back to the tool shed.

"That's twice now that he's singled me out." You say, keeping your eye on him for a moment longer, watching his moves. The fact that you match the victim profile is not lost on you, and you think it might be making you just slightly paranoid.

"I noticed that too. Could be that you were the first one there the last time, and the last one out this time, but it's definitely something to keep note of." Spencer says as you drive off to the tiny resort the two of you had been assigned. You know he might be right, but the man went out of his way to flag you down this morning and completely ignored everyone else. An uneasy feeling in your stomach tells you that the landscaper should be looked into more thoroughly.

When you and Spencer reach the resort you waste no time in beginning your investigations. The two of you are laser focused on the task at hand, and agree to split the list equally. Spencer volunteered himself to question the extra person. Luckily, the front desk attendant was more than helpful and secured two rooms for the interviews to be conducted.

The first four interviews go by without incident, all front desk attendants and kitchen workers who have no indication of manipulative traits and answer your questions openly. You've done this enough times to spot exactly what you're looking for, you know what gets under the skin of unsubs, especially the organized ones who think they have it all figured out.

A couple other interviewees give you good information about the victim who stayed here. They tell you how they remember seeing her with her family in the hall, and how nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room when it was cleaned. Hotch had questioned the families last night, and cleared them from the suspects list.

By the time you reach the end of your list, you know you can safely cross every one of them off. None of them responded to the misinformation you sprinkled in the questions, things the unsub would've been known to be untrue. And none of them had any sort of reaction to you insulting the intelligence of the unsub, something that would have surely set them off in some way. But to your dismay, none of them had any clue of who could be capable of this kind of malice. Typically, there's at least one person who's able to spot something weird about someone, but not this time.

You group back up with Spencer, the two of you comparing notes in the room he used for his questioning. He had the same results as you and you both were hoping someone else on the team was more successful.

"We got all of them except for James Hilton. The others said he bounces around to each place and some days he's not even here." Spencer says, pointing out the only uncrossed name from the list.

"James Hilton. That's the landscaper." You say, barely able to recall his name from yesterday. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grows.

-----

In the afternoon, the team reconvenes in the cabin around the table to compare findings. Every other agent was able to interview everyone but James Hilton. Granted, his job requires him to go from location to location, but it seems like he's been hanging out around this cabin often. However, he was nowhere to be found when everyone came back. But maybe he went to another location to work on their flowerbeds.

"We'll need to get his statement today. Anyone up to track him down?" Usually you volunteer to go after someone like this, but something is telling you not to, and you listen to your instincts. Thankfully Morgan offers to track him down, and Prentiss joins him once more. You pick at a piece of paper on the table as your mind works, mulling over what you know about the case and the overly-friendly landscaper.

Before Morgan and Prentiss leave, Spencer informs the team about the conversations that James has dragged you into. You tell them exactly what happened, and they all agree that it seems suspicious. Hotch goes off to make some calls to JJ and Garcia, leaving you and Spencer at the table.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks, leaning forward on the table. His voice snaps you out of your trance and you cease to fiddle with the paper.

"Me? Yeah I'm fine, why?" You ask, not sure why he's concerned. He looks conflicted, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he answers.

"Well, it's just that you fit the victim profile and the conversations with the landscaper seem to be suspicious. And you keep playing with the paper which is an indication of anxiety." He says, trying his best to not profile you in front of your face.

"Spencer, I'm okay, promise. I was just thinking." You tell him, and it's the truth. While James makes you feel uneasy, you're confident that nothing will happen to you. Spencer nods and you stand from the table, wanting to inspect the cabin with finer detail and stretch your legs.

After going from room to room looking for the tiniest thing that might be relevant to the case, you find yourself staring at the same photo that caught Spencer's eye when you all first arrived. There's something about it, something about the discolored spot, that you just can't let go of. It's bothering you for some reason. Frustrated, you take it off the wall and bring it to where Spencer is in the main living area, nose in a book. He looks up from the page when he hears you coming, his eyebrows scrunching closely together.

"What are you doing?" He asks, putting the book on a side table. You place the painting on the large coffee table and put your hands on your hips.

"There's something about this that's driving me insane." You say, eyes drifting from Spencer's face to the painting. It takes Spencer all of ten seconds to analyze the painting again.

"It's the same place the bodies were found." He says and your eyes widen, taking in the scene again and realizing he's right.

"Wait. If this is the same place the bodies were found, then that, is the exact spot they were in." You say, pointing to the discolored spot. The discoloration is where the grass meets the water, the mountain in the background. Your eyes drift to the bottom corner of the painting where you see a cursive 'J' painted in white.

"Do you think the killer is the one who painted this?" Spencer asks you, and you nod.

"I'm sure of it. There's a J painted in the corner. It has to be Hilton. Can you call Garcia?" You ask, mind feeling like it's running a marathon. Spencer doesn't hesitate to get Garcia on the phone.

"Hello my beautiful boy genius, what can I do for you today?" Penelope's voice sounds throughout the room and you smirk at her entertaining phone greeting.

"Hello my beautiful computer genius, can you do me a favor?" You speak first and you can hear her laugh through the phone.

"Oh my darling anything for you." Her voice is melodic and you shake your head at her antics. You love Garcia, she's one of your closest friends inside and outside of work.

"Can you find anything on a James Hilton from the Boulder, Colorado area?" You ask her, knowing your answer is about to be served on a silver platter in just a few moments. Garcia's quick typing echoes through the phone.

"James Hilton, born and raised in Boulder. Has been working as a property manager for the last ten years at the property you all are staying at. Has one traffic record from the nineties, but other than that he's clean." She says, but you were hoping for something more incriminating.

"Anything about a wife, or a girlfriend? Maybe even a sister or mother?" You ask her, staring down a the painting.

"It looks like he was in a long term relationship with Valerie Wilson, also of Boulder. But according to her Facebook page, they are over with." She says, Spencer and you looking at each other, knowing you may have just found a potential piece of the puzzle.

"Perfect. Can you tell me what she looks like and how to contact her?" You ask and write down the details Garcia recites. After you get the needed information, Spencer hangs up and calls Hotch to inform him of what the two of you just found out. Hotch tells us that he's on his way back to the cabin after he's done with the last interview.

The painting lays in front of you two, and you take a seat on the arm of the chair Spencer is sitting in, your leg brushing up against his and your arm resting behind his head to keep yourself stable. Your eyes are glued to the discoloration, and you know there's just something about it that's more than just not being able to find the right shade.

"Is there a way to see if something has been painted over?" You ask Spencer rather than Googling it, knowing he can probably get you an answer faster. He clears his throat and nods his head.

"A few years ago it was found that Vincent Van Gogh painted over several of his works due to the cost of canvas. Experts used x-ray to see through the layers, revealing the original painting." His answer is exactly what you were looking for.

"We have to get this thing x-rayed. And someone needs to contact Valerie and ask her about her relationship with James. His tool shed should be examined as well" You jump off the chair's arm, ready to leave immediately, but having to wait for Hotch before you can proceed with anything else.

-----

Hours later, your leg is bouncing up and down, eagerly awaiting the results of the x-ray. The hospital staff had never encountered something quite like this, but you were thankful that they were cooperative. Spencer had come along with you while Hotch stayed back to get in contact with Valerie. You check your phone every ten seconds to see if you have a new message for him, but your screen is blank.

Thankfully, a few minutes later an x-ray technician comes out and beckons you to a dark room where she clips the x-ray images onto a lightboard. While the images aren't in color, you can still see exactly what you need to. The images show that where the discoloration is, there used to be a woman standing and a man on one knee. A gasp leaves your mouth, the pieces finally fitting together in your mind. Without a doubt, James is the unsub.

Spencer and you race back to the cabin and spill the findings to the rest of the team. Hotch informs you that Valerie had confirmed that James recently proposed, but she turned him down. All of the victims match her appearance. He must have been killing to fulfill some sort of revenge he felt was necessary.

The team calls each of the resorts that James is employed at only to find that he's not at any of them. While the others scramble to try and find a way to find him, your eyes land on the guestbook.

"Guys. I can call him. He told me his number is in the guestbook and we know I fit the profile. He won't be able to help himself." You say, and the others don't have any good reason as to why you shouldn't do it. Your hands shake from the adrenaline as you dial the numbers and the phone rings, your heartbeat resounding in your ears. You're so close to catching this depraved man.

"Hello?" He answers finally. You let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding and speak up.

"Hi James, you told me to call you if I needed help with anything. And, um, I think I might have broken one of the outside lights." You quickly come up with a lie, hoping to lure him out here for the arrest. You hear him moving around on the other end and the start of an engine.

"Of course, I'll be there in just a moment, honey." He says and you hang up the phone, trying not to gag from his pet name.

It takes James all of fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. When he pulls up, the entire team is waiting for him, but you were the one with cuffs in your hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Hotch and Morgan were out the door ordering him to the ground. With smug satisfaction, you step over the man and secure his hands in cuffs behind his back.

As the local police show up to take him away, he's spitting every expletive in the book at you. Rage and hatred show themselves very clearly on his face, and you see who he really is. You smile sickly sweet at him as he's shoved into the back of the cop car. Another monster off the street, unable to do harm to another woman. It's like a weight gets lifted from your shoulders.

-----

After the excitement of the arrest, you come down off your adrenaline rush. The rest of the team are packing, getting ready to leave in the morning, but you can't find it within yourself to do it. You're too struck by the beauty in front of you to worry about going back home. You just don't want to part with this yet. So you find yourself out on the wraparound porch once more, the sun retreating far too quickly behind the horizon for your liking.

Despite the waning sun, the landscape looks brighter, more vibrant now that you know that the killer is in custody. Usually, the team gets only a few hours of celebration before you're saddled with paperwork and the next case. A bird flies past again, and you appreciate its freedom again. Its sweet melodies carry in the breeze and soothes your weary soul.

You love your job, you can't imagine doing anything else, but it does wear on you. Both physically and mentally. Before you had started working with the team, you never could have imagined the kind of evil lurking everywhere, even in a place as gorgeous as this. But now, it's like wherever you look, no matter how beautiful the surroundings, you can always spot something amiss. You feel weighted by the knowledge of what reality actually is.

The familiar sound of the sliding door catches your attention, and you see Spencer coming towards you, blanket in hand. A smile finds its way onto your face as he closes the distance between you, securing the blanket around your shoulders. Just like yesterday, he stands right beside you, admiring the view.

"The others are all leaving tonight, they said they want to get a headstart on the papers. But I told them we'd go back in the morning." His voice is raspy, yet soft.

"But what about the plane?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at you.

"I told them we'd fly back in the morning, already have the tickets arranged." He says, easing some of your anxiousness, but not satisfying your curiosity.

"Why?" You search for the answer on his face.

"Because I saw how much you like it here. You deserve one workless night." He says with sincerity and your heart swells at the sentiment. You fully turn towards him, soft blanket draped lightly across your shoulders. You notice that Spencer has traded his button up for a simple pullover. Something so simple has never looked so good before.

"Thank you, you really didn't have to-" He cuts you off with a smile,

"I know, but I wanted to." He admits, pink coloring his cheeks. You stare up at him in awe, not quite sure what you did to deserve his thoughtfulness. Not being able to hold back your affections, you reach out and engulf him in a hug.

"Thank you, Spencer." You reiterate into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. After a few fleeting, precious moments, you let go of him. Staring up into his eyes, you reach a hand up and stroke the soft skin of his cheekbone with your thumb. He doesn't flinch from your touch like he does with others, no, he leans into it as if he's savoring the feeling.

His arm that was around your waist come up to cup your cheek, and he gently brings your face towards his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You hold him close, a flurry of warmth spreading from your face down to your body. His other hand finds its way around your waist, securing you to his body.

You break the kiss as your chest begins burning with the need of oxygen, and he rests his forehead against yours. Your hands come up to gently grasp the sides of his face, keeping him in place so that you can admire his beauty. After minutes pass by in silence as you two appreciate each other, Spencer tilts his head up and kisses your forehead.

He turns you around so that you're facing away from him, and he grabs the blanket from around your shoulders. Seconds later, you feel him standing behind you, wrapping the soft blanket around the both of you. His chest is behind you, and he hands you the edges of the blanket so that his hands might find the soft curve of your waist. Spencer pulls you in to him so that you're leaning back on his chest.

Spencer rests his head atop of yours as the two of you relax your minds and bodies, focusing solely on each other and the scene in front of you. Your hands come down to entwine themselves with his with a soft smile on your face.

A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye as you're overcome with emotion. You cannot recall a single time in your life that you've felt this serene, where everything just feels perfect. Your soul is well nourished and full from Spencer alone. All of those cases you worked together, the stolen glances across the office, the simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for each other has culminated to this one precious moment in time; and you've never felt more content.

The sun eventually sets behind the horizon, the chilly breeze billowing the blanket around you both. Above you in the sky, the stars shine brightly, and you tip your head back to admire them. You can never admire their true beauty in Quantico, their shine is dulled by light pollution, but you can see them clearly here. You can see everything clearly here.

"You know, scientists estimate that there are about two hundred sextillion stars in the sky within the Milky Way." Spencer whispers in your ear as you two bask in their soft white light. You turn around in his hold and smile up at him,

"And yet none shine as brilliantly or as beautifully as you." You say, and pull him in for another soft, heartfelt kiss. As you pull away, you watch as his eyes flutter open and he smiles endearingly. You've never seen such a beautiful sight, never felt comfort as warm as him, and you know as you lean into his embrace, that you will not bear the weight of this world or this life alone.

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d1xonss · 10 months

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 8 ~ Panic Room

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Word Count : 4.2k

In this chapter ~ When the group pushed even harder for answers about the outbreak as a whole, Jenner gives them the harsh and ugly truth. One that they clearly weren't expecting to hear. But the man didn't stop there as they were all suddenly locked inside the large building, the entire thing going into self-destruct mode. It left all of them terrified, wondering if there was any way out of the danger they seemed to walk right into.

"Give me a playback of TS-19." Jenner commanded out loud as he walked into the large room.

Our footsteps echoed around the giant space, filled with lines and lines of computers and a giant screen in the middle of the back wall on full display. Everything in here looked expensive and new, like there were many doctors and smart people in here at one point trying to do everything they could when the outbreak hit. I didn't miss the mess that lingered in different places when people obviously began to panic, not knowing how the hell to stop this or what exactly it was. But I hoped that after Jenner stayed here for months, maybe he had come up with some sort of answer.

Suddenly, seconds after Jenner spoke, there was video feedback of different 3-D views of human skulls on the giant screen right in front of us.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asks from beside his mother.

Jenner nodded, "An extraordinary one. Take us in for E.I.V."

The screen then showed the brain having all of these different little blue lights, glowing and flickering in every direction. The stemmed from the front and all the way around to the back, the mind itself looking alive right in front of our eyes. Jenner began to explain to all of us that the lights we see are a person's life, all of their experiences, basically all of the different things that make you unique. But I didn't miss his change in tone when he informed us that the person we were seeing had been bitten, and agreed to have all of this recorded and watched by others for learning purposes.

My eyes stayed firmly on the screen as the man rambled on and on it seemed like, nearly tuning him out as I watched all the once bright blue lights, slowly dim with each passing second. Though it only got faster once Jenner commanded the computer to fast forward through the footage, watching as the person slowly lost their life right before our very eyes. The brain then became completely dark as the person stopped moving, fast forwarding even further when something unexpected happened.

Once the person essentially came back to life, red lights suddenly appeared instead in only a certain part of the brain now. Showing all of us what happened to you after you turn is far worse than what we could even imagine.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked.

"You tell me." he replies as he gestured to the screen, watching us take it all in like he had probably done many times in the past, studying over every movement time and time again.

"It's not like before, most of that brain is dark." Rick states.

Jenner then says, "Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part, that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct."

The screen then previews something suddenly hitting the brain right in the middle, before it all goes black again and the person stops moving completely.

"God. What was that?" Carol asked in shock.

My eyes scanned the person's entire head, looking at the object that was now lodged in the center, "He shot his patient in the head." I assumed, "Didn't you?"

He didn't answer me as he powered down the screen with the press of a button, clearly not wanting to relive the moment. There was something suddenly suspicious about the things he was dancing around, almost purposefully not answering.

"You have no idea what this is do you?" Andrea asked.

Jenner sighed, "It could be microbial, vial, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God." Jacqui said under her breath.

"There is that." Jenner said before proceeding to tell us that he truly didn't have the answers we were looking for. He was almost just as clueless about this as any of us are, not having near as many answers as he wished. That only made me wonder what the hell he was doing these past few months if he wasn't trying to figure out what all this shit was. Was he just sitting on his ass in his fancy building, waiting for someone to come knocking and save him? I truly wanted to know.

"Man, I wanna get shitfaced drunk after this." Daryl muttered close to me.

I just nodded my head in response, not taking my eyes off the man as he continued talking, though I couldn't bring myself to pay attention. Coming here only seemed absolutely hopeless now knowing everything. We couldn't save Jim, and we would never know what all of this is, what it would all lead to in the future. The information he gave us was practically useless.

"Jenner, I know this has been taxing you and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock, it's counting down. What happens at zero?" Dale suddenly asked, bringing all of our attention to the big red numbers ticking to our left.

The man grew silent for a moment, shifting from side to side as he visibly grew uncomfortable, "The...basement generators run out of fuel...the power runs out." he eventually explained vaguely.

"And then?" I asked.

Jenner ignored me again. Dick. Before starting to just walk out of the room as if the conversation was anywhere near done.

"VI what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked the computer.

"When the power runs out, facility–wide decontamination will occur." VI responded, a robotic voice coming through the speakers.

We all looked around at each other in slight confusion, not really knowing what that meant and Jenner was already too far gone to explain any of it. Almost as if he didn't want us to know. That alone caught the attention of a few of the guys as they began to quickly leave the room to figure out what the hell was going on, down towards the basement like Jenner mentioned. Daryl was about to leave my side to follow them out, but turned back to me almost as if he forgot something.

"Grab your stuff, get ready to leave." he told me urgently.

I nodded absentmindedly as I watched him turn around again to leave, before rushing in the other direction to head back towards the many lined up rooms. The door practically flew open with the amount of force I used, not wasting anymore time as I gathered the rest of my things, the books that I had picked out, and a few bottles of water that were scattered around the space. I fucking knew that something bad was going to happen, I should've bet on it. Something had been off since the beginning and I didn't say a damn thing about it, how could I have let this just fly over my head like that without taking it more seriously.

I seemed to pause mid step as I frantically walked around the room as the power went out in a split second, leaving me in the dark, and I didn't hesitate to pick up my pace. I blindly hauled the rest of my stuff over my shoulders and grabbed Daryl's bag along with his crossbow and quickly made it back out of the space.

By the time I rushed back into the giant room we were huddled in, everyone had come back and started hounding Jenner with question after question, all of them he seemed to be avoiding. I fully walked into the area hesitantly upon the scene and I saw Daryl's shoulders relax the second he saw me again, his brows still furrowed in concern.

He then rushed over to me rather quickly, "What the hell took ya so long?" he asked, his tone blunt and angry.

I stood there for a second before handing him his things, "Sorry?" I asked in disbelief.

It hit him then what he sounded like and he quickly shook his head, "I-...sorry, I'm just..." he trailed off, not knowing how to describe the obvious fear he was feeling.

But I understood what he was saying without even having to hear it, nodding to him as he didn't need to finish his thought for me to know. I myself was feeling the same way as I tried to calm my nerves, disregarding all the many things that could go wrong in here even though they might've been true.

For every question that Jenner was avoiding, the harder it was for me to remain calm. There was a conversation happening in front of Daryl and I that he seemed to be listening intently to, but I wasn't. I couldn't. I just tried to focus on my breathing, my heartbeat growing loud in my ears as I was trying to not completely freak out. Panic attacks weren't a new thing to me, but I definitely would rather die than have one in front of a crowd of people.

Then Rick suddenly snapped when he wasn't getting anywhere with Jenner, "Everyone grab your things, we're getting out of here now!" he yelled.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I instantly started to walk out on instinct along with everyone else, but a sudden alarm began blaring loudly the second we moved it seemed like, and the door slammed shut right in front of my face, locking us in. Okay if I thought I was feeling claustrophobic before, then what the hell was I feeling now?

"Did you just lock us in? Guys he just locked us in!" Glenn shouted in panic.

"Yeah, no shit." I muttered in disbelief, my eyes wide as I scanned the thick metal door in front of me.

My breathing started to become heavier after Glenn said that, making the situation only more real and far worse, and Daryl quickly took notice from my right. He suddenly whipped around to the man responsible and ran up to him in a split second, "You son of a bitch! You locked us in here!" he screamed.

He tried to tackle the man but Rick and Shane stopped him by pulling him back harshly by the arms. I dropped my backpack to the ground absentmindedly, starting to walk back and forth in the giant room that only seemed to be getting smaller, trying to steady my racing heart but nothing seemed to be working. We were really trapped in here, with a timer counting down the minutes to God only knows what.

Glenn quickly seemed to watch me frantically moving back and forth from right next to him and gently grabbed me so I would come to a stop, pulling me into him in attempts to calm me down. But it only seemed to make things worse, feeling his arms shaking around me only proving just how scared he was too. How nervous we all seemed to be of the unknown.

It was then Jenner started to yell, having been fed up with the many voices demanding him for answers and the people beginning to attack him every two seconds. The serious man finally reached his breaking point just as he pushed us to ours.

"Do you know what this place is?!" he snapped, "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!"

We were all left to a stunned silence at his outburst, watching as he took a breath and sat back down in his chair, leaving the painful silence all around us. Daryl's eye seemed to catch with mine from across the room and gave me a look I had never seen from him before whilst I was still slightly shaking in Glenn's arms, hating the idea of being trapped.

Jenner then continued, "In the event of a catastrophic power failure in a terrorist attack, for example, H.I.T.S are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.S?" Rick questioned.

Jenner glanced at him, "VI, define." he commanded.

"H.I.T.S- High-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast heat wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive."

I froze. All I could hear in that moment was Glenn's quickened heartbeat, Carol and Sophia holding each other sobbing, and the rest of the men getting very angry as if it was the only emotion they knew how to feel. Not only were we left trapped in here, but we were also going to die. We were all going to die without even having really lived, and he just seemed to brush past it without a care in the world. Not even considering to bring it to any of our attention before this, and I couldn't have been more angry with him.

Before I knew what was happening Daryl and Shane brushed past us in a hurry, trying to break the door open by hitting it repeatedly with axes they had somehow found along the way. I slightly pushed away from Glenn to walk over towards Jenner to try and hear anything other than ringing in my ears. But I didn't get very far as I felt someone suddenly hug me from around my waist and I looked down to see Carl holding onto me tightly. He was still crying profusely, and I quickly got down on my knees to hug him in return, trying to offer him some type of support as his fear must've been petrifying.

This isn't the way it should go. I felt utterly hopeless, I knew we wouldn't be getting out of here unless Jenner decided so, and by the looks of it he wasn't budging. Even with Rick kept trying to convince him every passing second.

"Can't make a dent." Shane said breathlessly to all of us as he took a break from trying to tear down the door.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Jenner informed.

"Well you're head ain't!" Daryl yelled while coming at Jenner with an axe, Shane and Rick having to step in once more to stop him again from doing anything rash.

If we weren't about to die, I probably would've laughed at his witty comeback, but Carl's quiet sobs reminded me of the state of the situation and now was not the time. I continued to rub his back reassuringly to try and calm him somehow as I watched the scene unfold in front of me over his shoulders.

Jenner kept trying to convince all of us that this was for the best, and there would be no pain when we all die in here together. But the truth was I didn't want to die, not now, nor did I want anyone else in here to have the same exact fate. And clearly we all were in firm agreement with how much everyone was losing their shit. Reacting in different ways to Jenner's psychotic behavior, anger, sadness, and panic, yet it was all completely the same. Fear. It always seemed to come back didn't it?

Lori came up to me to take Carl back into her arms and just held him for our last few moments while she finally let her own tears fall, realizing it was all hopeless. But Rick clearly wasn't ready to give up. I watched him pick apart the man, digging down as deep as he could to try and convince him to just let us make our own decision on this. That we all deserved a right to choose what we wanted our fate to be instead of it being forced upon us like this. That maybe there was still some hope out there for us to find.

And then suddenly, he broke. The man didn't say a word, not a single word as he silently walked over to a control panel, typing in a few numbers that sent the metal door flying open. Daryl, who was still trying to break through, nearly ate shit when it opened quickly as he still swung the weapon over and over again. But he recovered fast as he whipped around to grab his stuff from off the ground.

"Come on!" he yelled to the rest of us.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding once it hit me that it was real. He was letting us go. My legs had never moved so fast as I sprinted towards the door, grabbing my things along the way and making sure everyone else made it through the door before me as I pushed them through to the other side.

But I quickly noticed as I looked back that Jaqui and Andrea were staying behind with Jenner, leaving Dale shocked beyond repair. He wanted to save her, I could tell by his eyes how much he cared for her, but he knew there was nothing he could do to convince her, so he stayed too. The sight alone caused my mouth to drop at how many people we seemed to be losing, one after another. Each of them fell just like dominos.

My eyes wouldn't pull away from them, wanting them to come with us but knowing I couldn't do or say anything to change their minds. After all, what could I say? They thought their chance of surviving out there was slim, and they were terrified of walkers potentially tearing them to shreds, that's not how they wanted to go. And as much as it might've pained me, I could also understand that too.

Heavy footsteps from behind me were slapping loudly on the ground below, approaching me in record speed but I ignored it for a second, wanting to get one last look at their faces before I made my own decision too.

"Hey, come on, let's go." Daryl said from right behind my head while grabbing my sleeve to pull me along.

I looked at him with a twinge of sadness in my eyes, but nodded and followed him out the door towards the main entrance, not looking back.

The two of us flew towards the front doors where everyone else was waiting, watching from a distance as some of the guys were trying to break the windows with axes and any other type of weapon they could find. I recalled Jenner saying something about not being able to open the front doors again, but it's not like any of us minded that. Where there's a will, there's a way.

But nothing was working as they continued to struggle, the glass being too thick to cut through easily, that is until Carol approached Rick as she dug through her bag, "I think I have something that will help." she said.

"Carol, I don't think a nail file is gonna do it." Shane said in frustration.

I blinked. Really?

She ignored him, "Back at camp when I was washing your clothes, I found this in your pocket." she said as she pulled out a grenade with shaking hands.

My eyes widened at the random object. Yeah, I think that'll do it.

Rick then took it from her and told everyone to get down once he placed it by the window. I ducked and covered the back of my neck with my hands when, at the last minute, I felt another body covering mine. Once the window shattered, I looked up to see it was Daryl and he quickly grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out the window as fast as possible with everyone following close behind.

We all took down as many walkers as we could as we made our way back to the cars quickly, breathing heavily with adrenaline coursing through our bodies. I got into the passenger side of the truck and slammed the door shut, Daryl's movements only mirroring mine as he didn't waste a single second before getting in too. I found myself looking back at the building once more, just in time to see Andrea and Dale making it out of the window at the last minute and diving to take cover right before the explosion.

I ducked down in anticipation to shield myself once again, only seconds away from the ignited fire before it rang out loudly in my ears. I felt the heat of the explosion blow in our direction along with the smoke that came after that, perishing whatever was left inside. Daryl sat up after a few seconds of silence had passed and I got up slowly after him looking to see Andrea and Dale quickly making their way into the RV, with the building burning behind them.

I sat there in shock, trying to process everything that went down in the last thirty minutes. It all seemed to happen so fast.

"Hey, ya okay?" Daryl asked once he collected his own thoughts.

I didn't look at him, but I nodded my head to show that I heard him, even if my answer was far from the truth. But then I felt his hand, slowly and hesitantly falling on my shoulder as if he was scared to touch me.

"Look at me." he said in a soft voice.

My eyes moved over to him slowly to make sure I wasn't just imagining things. Seeing him worried and speaking in such a soft tone was a weird new thing to experience, almost weirder than what we just went through seconds ago. He was being so genuine it seemed unnatural...but not in a bad way.

"I'm okay." I finally muttered.

I didn't think he believed me, not for a second, but before he could protest more the cars in front of us started to move, leaving him not much of a choice as he quickly started up the vehicle to follow. I sat completely still while we drove in silence, just thinking. I didn't want Jacqui to stay, leaving someone behind for dead was something I never thought we'd do. But I tried to tell myself that she was at peace and wouldn't suffer in this cruel world anymore.

We had been driving for hours and I could tell that the sun would start setting soon enough and we would have to find somewhere to stay for the night. It frustrated me slightly that we had to start all over with finding a safe place to stay, although I didn't have a lot of faith in the CDC, it still would've been nice to hole up there for a little while. Better than mindlessly wandering place after place only to be left with nothing we could rely on.

"Did ya wanna stay?" Daryl suddenly asked.

Although I barely heard the question fall from his lips because it was more of a whisper, yet I was still taken off guard at his question. Was that what he thought I wanted? I didn't want him or anyone to think I wanted to stay merely because I stopped for a moment to look at the others. I wanted to save them, but I didn't want to join them.

I quickly answered him, "God no..." I breathed shakily, "No...I didn't."

He looked over at me, trying to see if I was lying to him, "Then why did I have to pull ya outta there?"

"You didn't have to pull me out of there, I just-," I stopped myself to figure out how to phrase what I wanted to say, "I...almost wanted to take one last look at the others. It was the last time we were ever going to see Jacqui." I said.

He remained silent for a while after that. I began to think that my explanation was just stupid to him since he didn't utter another word, but it was true. I didn't want to just forget about her or forget her face, so I stayed for a few seconds longer because it was somewhat important to me.

"Don't do that shit" he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of awkward silence.

I turned to him in confusion, "Do what shit?" I asked.

"Don't scare me like that" he responded.

My eyebrows raised in slight shock. Scare him? The man that wasn't afraid of anything, not scared to tear someone's head off or take out an army of walkers before him. But I scared him? I almost didn't think I heard him right. "Sorry." I said simply, a smile creeping to my face.

He returned the smile and turned back to the road, "S' fine." he muttered.

"Why do you care?" I found myself asking.

He only looked at me with a blank expression, so I clarified, "I mean you don't know me that well at all...why does it matter to you if I wanted to stay or not?"

His eyes focused back on the road, and he started to chew on his bottom lip slightly while his mind was elsewhere. It didn't seem like that deep of a question but he sure as hell was taking his time thinking about it.

"Well, if yer part of the group now...means I gotta watch yer ass just like everyone else." he said with annoyance clear in his voice.

My heart sank a little at his words, but what did I expect? I guess I was a little flattered when he said that I had scared him, and maybe there was a part of me that thought about what it would be like if I was a little more important to him. I'm not a saint, okay? It crossed my mind. But clearly that wasn't the case.

I didn't say another word in response to that because I truly didn't know what else to say, only moving to press play on the Metallica cd that we listened to yesterday and began to stare out the window, trying to think about something else. I wanted the CDC to be a distant memory and nothing more, but the questioned remained as I watched the city get smaller and smaller. Where the hell do we go from here?

~ Thanks for reading!

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fanfic-scribbles · 9 months

Text

Steeb

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Working in a coffee shop, you have heard and seen all manner of names and spellings thereof, and you’re only human– mistakes happen.

So why’s this guy gotta be such a dick about it?

Quick facts: Friendship – Steve & Reader – Nondescript Reader

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 4218

A/N: Back on my coffee shop bullshit because the idea made me laugh :)

You don’t mean to do it.

It’s been a long day, you’re overworked, and so when you hear ‘Steeb,’ (you’re certain you heard it exactly like that), you write it down to the best of your ability and go on with making the drink. You’ve heard plenty of unique names during your tenure working behind the counter of a coffee shop, and been subjected to every possible way to spell even the most common ones, so you don’t even bat an eye. You simply finish making the drink, call out the name as you set it on the counter, and immediately turn to the next to keep the line moving.

After a few minutes the rush has died and the cup is still there, and a tall blond man hovers around, staring at it uncertainly. Starting to fill with dread, you go repeat the drink order in the hopes that he’ll recognize it.

“Oh, yes; that is me…” He frowns at the cup, holds it up, and squints at it some more. He looks as tired as you feel, but instead of replenishing his energy with some sugar and caffeine, he frowns at you and says, in a terse, clipped tone, “‘Steeb?’ Really?”

It has been a long fucking day and you feel a rush of anger blow through you before you tamp it down, put on the smile that you hope doesn’t look as lined with knives as it feels, and say, “I am very, very sorry sir; I must have misheard your name. Please enjoy your drink.”

He waits, opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but thankfully he just takes his drink and goes.

Good riddance.

A few days later you’re wiping down behind the counter after a long rush when he comes in again. He sees you, hesitates, and therefore so do you– but he approaches with a forced smile and you try to relax. He’s not anywhere near the top ten worst customers you’ve ever had to deal with; so what if he got a little snippy when you fucked up his name. Maybe he was having a bad day too. You decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Oh, and it’s ‘Steeeeeeve.’ ‘Steeeeeeeeeeevvve.’”

Nope. Still an asshole. The way he says it is so much like explaining his name to a small child with next to no verbal skills that you nearly grip the cup in your hand to destruction while he watches you. Through great restraint, (and the truly unfortunate need to keep paying for groceries and shelter), you plaster on a smile. “Of course,” you say placidly. His brow furrows in…concern? You wait until you turn away to roll your eyes. You’re not going to mess with food; what kind of monster does he think you are? You prepare him his drinks– but before that you write down his name. Exactly as he said it.

‘Steeeeeeeeeeevvve’ wraps at least halfway around the cup and given that he’s the only one waiting you call his name out likewise. It’s petty, and it’s definitely petty the way you take enjoyment in his annoyance as he picks up the cup and follows all the letters.

“Did I do something?” he asks.

Aside from treat me like a fucking toddler? But you can’t say that. Stupid food. Stupid rent. “Of course not sir,” you say flatly. Sometimes you can skate by pissing people off if you seem unaffected enough– some people really do believe you’re that stupid. “I’m just trying to get your name right. Exactly as you say it.”

It doesn’t seem to work on him. However, the way it doesn’t work on him means he…snorts, the corners of his lips turn briefly up, and he walks away with his drinks without lodging a complaint.

…Maybe he’s not a total asshole after all.

The next time he shows up, after ordering, he stares at you for a moment and then brings out his debit card and shows you the name printed on it.

At this point you do know his name (it’s not like ‘Steve’ is actually the hardest name to remember for someone who left such a negative impression on you, even if that impression was a bit of a knee-jerk) but he looks a little amused and wary, like he’s not sure how you’re going to mangle it this time.

You’re not really sure what his deal is, but you know a challenge when you see it. Still, fucking up his name on purpose feels like it violates the spirit of…whatever this thing is. However…

It’s a little slow, so you take a moment to write on the cup, trying to perfectly mimic the print of his name on the card. When his drinks are done you call out the order instead of his name, though you face the writing on the cup towards him. He walks up, his eyes zero in, and he…cracks a smile. A real smile, if a bit wobbly.

He shakes his head as you restock some cups, nods his thanks, and leaves.

You’re probably done now, but that’s a good note to leave it on, you think.

He comes in another time with two people– a reserved woman and a man with a bright smile. They’re both friendly and the new guy is so personable he makes you smile even after a long night of little sleep. Steve seems happy enough today and doesn’t make a fuss about his name, although the both of them watch you for a reaction as though he’s told them. They seem amused, but they all shuffle off after they pay.

Well. You would hate to disappoint.

Natasha and Sam get nice cursive. ‘Sam and Natasha’s Friend’ gets flat print.

Steve sighs heavily, Sam laughs, and Natasha grins wickedly. More customers come in and you forget about them except as a nice note on an otherwise unremarkable day.

You are more than willing to admit Steve is not as much a jerk as he first seemed to be. He must have been having a few bad days himself, to be so snippy, and hey, maybe names were a sore subject with him as they could be with so many others. Trying your best doesn’t mean you’re exempt from being accidentally hurtful. Being as short on patience as you were, (unfortunately, often are these days), you didn’t exactly act as well as maybe you should have either.

So when he comes in and looks a little down, you treat him with a bit more care. He orders something warm and, in your opinion, comforting. When you ask him if he wants whipped cream he shrugs, and before you can say anything else, he says his name in a very quiet voice.

When he walks away you switch out the cup for another size up, break out a special pen, write his name carefully, and go about making the best damn drink you can. The whipped cream towers on the top, you dig out some of the colorful sprinkles left over from a recent seasonal promotion, and you barely put the drink down in the pick-up window before he’s there. He smiles slightly when he sees it (that whipped cream tower is a work of art if you do say so yourself) and he carefully turns the cup around, looking for his name. When he goes a full circle he squints and looks at you.

“Keep looking,” you say and go back to the register.

He stays in the shop to drink it and tries to find his name for a bit before he gives up and gets through the whipped cream and a good portion of the drink before he’s able to hold it up and try again. He glances back at you a few times, as if to ask if you really wrote it. You nod, and he gets back to hunting. When the drink is nearly done he finally finds it– a tiny, careful scrawl just outside the edge of the artwork near the bottom of the cup. When he grins at you, you nod in approval, and he leaves in a better mood than he came in.

That’s the best outcome you can ask for, really.

He comes in at least once a week, most of the time, and you try to do little variations on each visit. The rainbow one with your new huge multi-colored pen goes over well. The attempt at calligraphy makes him smile. Once when you’re really rushed you scratch it out like a simple metal band logo. That gets a little laugh.

One day you’re out of ideas, and out of patience. Every customer is grating, and then there’s…

“How hard is it to remember Bill?” the man snaps.

“I’m sorry sir,” you say and try not to show how tired you are. You’re actually not responsible for this one, but you’re not going to throw your co-worker under the bus. Also, she wrote down ‘Will,’ and you’re having a hard time getting worked up over one letter that’s…basically the same name. But names are sensitive, and you’re really actually not trying to be an asshole. You wish other people knew that. “We’ll do better next time.”

He scoffs and opens his mouth, but there’s someone looming behind him that makes him turn. In a good flash of irony, Steve is the one staring down at him. Not threatening though– his face is more of a ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ frown and it is frighteningly effective. You haven’t even done anything wrong and suddenly you’re questioning your life choices.

Bill takes his coffee and leaves. Steve looks at you and asks, “Was I that bad?”

You shake your head. “I think we were both having a bad day,” you say and start wiping down the counter. Slowly, so you can take a moment for yourself. You don’t get many of those. “Thanks.”

“I’ve been told my ‘disappointed’ face can make almost anyone rethink what they’re doing,” he says.

You smile. “I started rethinking my life, and I wasn’t even the target,” you say and his smile is like a reward. “I’ll…try and find your drink,” you say and go to get to work. But there is no drink waiting and with some dread you come back to ask him what he ordered, because he is a good guy and damn it you’re going to fix this.

But he’s gone, and there’s a folded piece of paper on the counter that you grab and open.

“No coffee today,” reads the note that is signed “Steeb” and you roll your eyes, but it makes you smile.

“PS: Check the back”

You do, and find a little drawing of a coffee cup with your name scrawled in as part of the design. Spelled right of course. You’re not sure if that’s a passive aggressive dig, but honestly, you’ve had way worse.

You fold up the paper and put it away.

The next time Steve comes in it’s at a quiet part of the day, and he hands you a paper and presses a finger to his lips. You stare a bit too long at that but unfold the paper. Your name is decorated with cute cartoon flowers, and what follows is his order.

You roll your eyes but ring him up, and get to work.

The cup gets decorated with a quick hangman’s game, with some of the letters missing from his name and nearly a complete stick figure with several wrong letters to accompany the cartoon execution. (Naturally, ‘b’ is one of them.)

When Steve sees it…well, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile like that. “I’m going to feel bad throwing this one away,” he says, admiring it.

“Take a picture. Doesn’t leak as much,” you say, but his eyes light up and he actually does. “I was joking,” you say, a hand on your face.

“It was a good idea.” His grin is devious. “And embarrassed is a good look on you.”

“Uh huh,” you say and put your hand down. “Didn’t get enough of it your first time around?”

“This one’s better,” he says, taking your comment with the humor you intended.

“Right. Sure.” You start wiping up an invisible spot behind the counter. “Enjoy your coffee.”

“I always do,” he says and takes a long drink before he leaves.

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you smile the rest of your shift.

By now you’re well aware that ‘Steeb’ is Steve, is Steve Rogers, is Captain America, is…yeah. That guy. And you’re actually pretty relieved that it took you a while to figure it out. If you’d known from the start, your initial judgement probably would have been even harsher, and now you know he’s definitely not an ass.

This other guy though…

He looks (and acts) like a Jersey frat boy graduated to a tech bro and he’s been verbally harassing Steve for several minutes now, emboldened by his pack of cronies and the fact that Steve is just stoically taking it. Even the handful of people watching the proceedings are frowning or otherwise giving the douchebag dirty looks, but they seem to be following Steve’s lead and leaving well enough alone. Steve is sitting with his friends Sam (Falcon, he winked at you once holy shit) and Natasha (freaking Black Widow) and while Sam has attempted to diffuse the situation, Natasha has been quietly watching with light but focused interest that, if the guy was smart, should have made him crawl away with a thousand apologies by now.

Alas, he is a moron, and continues mouthing off.

Your manager finishes his phone call and turns the rest of his divided attention to focus on the…Situation. He’s frowning deep, but he just sighs. “He’s not doing anything I can kick him out for,” he grumbles.

“Hmm.” You look at the drink in your hand, and do a little double-take at the name before you realize you just misread it. However, that gives you an idea. “Hey. Your shift is almost through and you haven't taken a break yet.”

He looks at you suspiciously. Then he just looks tired as he takes off his apron. “Please, please don’t let them make me fire you.”

You flit one hand at him while you go to work with the other. “Written up maybe, but who gives a shit. Now go away; plausible deniability won’t manufacture itself.”

He rolls his eyes but he goes. You whip up the obnoxious group’s drinks, paying special attention to Guido Musk’s and making it as…pretty as possible.

When you’re done you put the drinks up, clear your throat, and in your best service-with-a-smile voice, call out, “Grunt!”

The talking stills, and you go on to rattle off his drink specifications, topping it all off with, “…and extra whip, for Grunt!”

He stalks over, scowling, and you brace yourself behind a docile smile as he hisses, “It’s Grant!”

You’d bet the nickel he tossed in the tip jar that that’s not actually his name, but you play along. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” you say and snatch the drink to give his name an exaggerated read-over. Your manager has just messy enough writing that the ‘a’ doesn’t quite close, so your alibi is solid. “Oh, I see, you’re completely right! I’m sorry, I misread it; that’s my bad,” you say and hand it over to him.

He's still glaring. “Who the hell gets called ‘Grunt?’”

“Sir, I’ve written cups for ‘Batman’ and ‘Spock.’” You shrug. “I don’t judge; however someone knows their order is fine.” You smile brightly at him. “Please enjoy your drink!” You then call out the rest of his friends’ orders, and go to the register to help a serendipitously-timed new customer. He pouts and hovers a little longer, but Steve is visibly more relaxed, smirking into his cup as his friends smile and stand down, and even the people who had been watching are now looking at Grant and whispering or laughing with their tablemates. So when one friend claps his shoulder and they all start to leave, he follows.

“Bye Grunt!” Sam calls out cheerfully as he passes through the door, and you duck your head behind the espresso machine as half the store laughs out loud. That is definitely going to get you a complaint, but it’s hard to be too mad about it. Once you’re composed enough not to crack you lift your head, but thankfully Grant is gone. You resolve to do everything in your power to avoid answering the phone today. …Even more than usual.

Later, it’s near close and Steve and his friends are among some of the last to leave. But he stops by the counter. “Thanks,” he says.

“For what?” you say with as much innocence as you can muster. Sam snorts and Natasha rolls her eyes, but Steve smiles. You drop the act and shrug your shoulder. “For the record,” you say, “–there is a difference between an accident, and being petty.”

Steve’s smile shifts more to one side. “Oh, I think I get it by now.” He then grins and says, “I guess it’s a good thing I never tried to use my middle name.”

You snort and shake your head. Natasha tilts hers. “Are you going to get in trouble for that?” she asks casually.

The mood drops a little. Sure, you won’t lose your job, but getting called in front of the manager –even the nice one– sucks. You shrug again, trying to keep it relaxed. “He left too fast to complain, but he might call tomorrow. We’ll see.” Steve and Sam frown deeply, like they hadn’t thought of that, and despite everything it makes you smile a little. “Relax; we’re perpetually understaffed. I’ll just get written up. It’s no big deal.”

“Still,” Steve says and looks at you with a very earnest expression that almost brings you up short. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” you say, and wince at the thought of him going up the chain and making more of a mess. You shake your head definitively. “Trust me, it’s fine. I misread a name. Happens all the time.” You give Steve a look with raised eyebrows. “Happens almost as much as mishearing a customer’s name.”

He blushes. Blushes. But before he can say anything else, Natasha hooks her arm in his, says, “Have a good night,” and leaves with him in hand and Sam following bemusedly behind.

You look around the dirty shop and sigh. Back to work.

After a week Grant-Grunt hasn’t come back, hasn’t called, and you’re just starting to relax when you see him walking past the window just outside. He lifts his head, you freeze, braced for the confrontation, but his eyes widen and he…bolts. Literally, actually, runs.

You blink, and suddenly jolt when one of the customers taking an easy morning is suddenly right at the counter. “Sorry; I didn’t see y–”

It’s Natasha. Smiling patiently as she holds her nearly-empty cup up for a refill. Your mouth works ineffectively to ask her how and when, but reflexively you take the cup, and then immediately check it. That’s her name, in your handwriting. You take a moment to reboot. “How do you do that?”

“Trade secret,” she replies with mild amusement. “Has he made a complaint?”

You shake your head. “Haven't heard a word.”

“Good.” Her smile grows. It’s sort of terrifying. And really hot. “The dark roast is very good today. May I have a refill?”

“Yes ma’am,” you say and immediately go to give her a whole new cup. You resolve to give her anything she asks for. And spell her name right. Every time.

You’re waiting for a sandwich you ordered in a busy shop when someone big bumps into you. As you’re starting to turn it is a familiar voice that starts apologizing profusely with, “I am so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Steve stops when you face him. He actually even squints a little, which makes you laugh. “Am I really that strange looking without an apron?”

He smiles. “I’ve never seen you outside of work.”

“Town is smaller than I thought,” you say and both of you just…stand there for a few seconds.

Then your number is called, and you go to get your sandwich. You come back to where Steve is, just because…well, you don’t know why. He was just surprised to see you outside of work. There’s no reason he would still want to see you. But here you are.

“Apparently I’m not that far behind you,” he says and glances around. “Are you…staying to eat?”

You bob your head, for lack of anything else to do. “I was planning on it.”

“Do you want to share a table?” he says. “It’s pretty busy in here.”

Something in you flips. “That’d be great.”

He smiles. “Yeah?” He then looks around, and points out a table in the corner. “How about there?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you say and go to claim the space. He comes over maybe just a minute later, and as you’re unwrapping your food, you admit, “I sort of wish we could get away with assigning numbers.”

“I don’t know. I’m really partial to the names,” Steve says and gives you a devious little smile over his sandwich.

“Yeah, now you are,” you say, maybe overly teasing just to make sure he gets it. Now’s a good time for a sincere apology, and though part of you rails against it for an honest mistake, you manage to quash it down and say, “I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but just to put it out there– I am sorry for screwing up your name that first time. The shop gets loud and I have seen a lot of names, and even the ‘usual’ ones sometimes get spelled differently. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

He ducks his head and quickly finishes the bite he’s just taken. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed malice; I just…” He looks away. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to explain, but…maybe he wants to. He looks at you again. “People get weird, sometimes, when they see me,” he says with a slight flush of embarrassment. “And it’s all ‘Cap’ this and ‘Cap’ that, so I…I just like hearing my name, you know?”

You nod. “Names are important,” you say and take a bite. He smiles slightly at your easy acceptance, and you both settle in for a nice lunch, and some good company.

It has been a good week, relatively, and the next time he shows up at the shop you're all set, writing ‘Steeb’ with some stars and quickly poorly drawn flags around it, but your new co-worker appears suddenly and swoops in just as you finish with the pen, spiriting the cup away and giving Steve a brilliant smile as she starts making his drink. Steve blinks, and since she can’t see your face from this angle, you give him a look begging him to put you out of your misery.

He smiles sympathetically, dumps a bigger tip in the jar, and moves away. You go pick up the forgotten pastry your co-worker had been getting for another customer, slip it in the wrapper, hand it over, and go to await your reaction just as she finishes cleaning the cup. She instinctively looks at the name as she starts to make the call, then stops suddenly and stares at you like you’re crazy. You gesture at the cup. “He’ll understand. Trust me.”

She shakes her head, then smiles brightly at Steve and chirps, “Your drink’s ready, Cap!”

You roll your eyes as Steve comes to the pick-up with a polite smile that’s definitely tinged with disappointment. But then he turns the cup to see his name, smiles a little more for real, and, despite the expression not budging an inch, tries to scowl at you. “A repeat already?” he asks with a likewise lame attempt at chiding.

“A callback,” you correct. “It’s sweet.”

“If you say so,” he says and picks up his drink. “I hope for a little more creativity next time.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” you say. You’ve been saving the katakana for a special occasion, but if he insists. Then again maybe the ‘b’ sound would be too repetitive so soon? Perhaps it’s time to practice the comic sans idea. You’ll think more about it, later. “Have a nice day, Steve.”

His real smile is so nice. “You too,” he says, with a gentle addition of your name, merely tilts his head respectfully at your co-worker, and leaves.

Said co-worker gapes. You reach around her for a rag and go to clean up some of the milk she spilled since you already know she won’t do it herself. “You have an in-joke with Captain America?” she asks, following along.

“No,” you say. “I have an in-joke with Steve.”

She blinks. “What’s the difference?” She then gets called over by the manager, huffs a put-upon sigh, and toddles off. You shrug. She probably wouldn’t get it anyway. But that’s okay. Steve does, and that’s all that matters.

#steve rogers & reader #mcu reader insert #captain america reader insert #fluff

34 notes · View notes

femlesbianbarbie · 1 year

Text

Oh Babygirl

Pairing: Tess x Reader x Joel

Warnings: Non-sexual Mommy/Daddy kink, Lactation kink, David,, canblism, Gore, Immune reader

Summary: Reader Takes Ellies place in episode 8.

Proofreading: Yes/No

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: I lowkey hate this but im going to post it anyways.

As soon as you saw Joel's wound you knew you were fucked. It was already beginning to fester Joel could barely talk as you and Tess bed down. There was a storm rolling in and this was the safest thing you could do right now.

“What do we do?” You haven’t seen Joel like this. He is normally the one helping you or Tess. “Tonight we can't do anything but tomorrow. I will go and patrol the area” Tess explains. “We can’t do anything” Your eyes drift over to where Joel lies incapacitated on the floor. ITs hard seeming him like this.“No, I don’t know this area. I will go out tomorrow and you can stay here with Joel but until then you are going to get some rest” Tess has pulled out her domme voice and you know you aren't going to be able to convince her of anything right now.

After pulling out a couple of blankets from around the house. You cuddle up next to Tess No matter how cold it is outside she always manages to be warm. It's an unspoken tradition. Almost every night Tess feeds you until you fall asleep. It's comforting to have somewhat of a routine. It's a form of intimacy that you will never have with anyone else, not even Joel.

“Here “ Tess pulls down her shirt and bra giving access to her breasts. You latch around one of her nipples and let your hand wander under her shirt to feel the skin of her stomach. This is the most comforting part of the day. When Mama just holds you close and lets you listen to her heartbeat. You can tell it calms her down aswell. Tess never wanted another kid but having someone she could take care of but who could also be capable when needed.

You let go as your hand finds blood. She had not lead you to believe she was injured at all. Your eyes dart up to Tess looking for any sign of pain. As soon as you see her face you know her wound is bad. “Mama is okay” Her voice is shaky as she pulls your hand away. She sounds more like she is trying to convince herself. “You need milk” She holds your hand and uses her free hand to push your head back to her breast. As much as you want to see the wound you know that She is done for the night. You might be able to push her on it tomorrow. Mama will not do anything mama doesn't want to. You slowly begin to suckle again and Mama pets at the back of your head in encouragement.

When you wake between Tess and Joel the first thing you notice is how slow Tess and Joel's breathing sounds. Joel is a mouth breather meaning you can usually hear breathing from the other end of the room. “Tess” You shake her gently hoping for her to get up. You have no idea where you are or how to help them. “Tess I need you to get up now” you shake her a little bit harder your breathing becoming more panicked. Her eyes flutter but other than that nothing happens. “Mama you need you to get up” You press your head down against her chest. Her heart is beating noticeably fainter than it was last night.

You need to head out and look for help. Maybe there are some people nearby that might have medicine. Its not really a good idea to leave them here by themselves but there isnt another option. “I'm going to patrol, I will come back as soon as I can” You press a kiss to Tess and Joel's foreheads before grabbing the rifle and heading out into the snow.

You would do anything to keep them safe even if that means you are out here in the cold tracking this deer so that you can keep them alive. You level the rifle and pull your glove off. The bullet lodges in the deer's leg and it limps off at a fast past. You grab your glove and race after it. You can’t let it get away. They need this meat.

When you see your kill there are two men standing near it. There is no way you can let them take it. You level the rifle and step out of the woods. “Back up or I put one right between your eyes” The words carry across the field quickly as the men stand and back away. “You are quite the hunter, we didn't even hear you coming.” There is something about the man's tone that sets you on edge. “Turn around and walk away” You shout trying to channel as much of your Tess's commanding town as possible. She is good at making people listen to her.“ We will but all I ask for ten seconds of your time.” you walk closer your rifle raised.

“My name is David, this is my friend James. We come from a large group of women and children and we are all very hungry.” This man's voice has hints of manipulation you recognize from your time in the Boston Qz. “My Friends are sick, they need this food” You barely recognize your own voice. “What kind of medicine do you need? We have lots we could trade you.” The man steps closer but you don’t move. “The kind for infections.”

“We have some back in our village, you could follow us there” “I'm not going anywhere with you. James can go and get it if anyone else comes I kill all of you.” David turns and they begin to talk just loud enough that you can hear. You watch as James scampers off into the woods. “Back up” You approach the rifle aimed at his head. “Is that your Husband's gun he is the one who is sick” You don't answer as you unload their rifles. “It's a four-mile round trip so it's going to be a while before James gets back. We could have a fire.” You can already tell he is trying to manipulate you again. “Bring it with us” You gesture to the fallen deer.

“You really shouldn’t be out here on your own'' David's new found closeness sets you even more on edge if that's even possible. “From what I can see you really shouldn’t be out here alone”. “So what's your name? I know it's hard to trust a stranger but I mean you no harm and for what it's worth there is room for you in our group”. “Thank you so much for inviting me to your hunger club” You wouldn’t be going with this man anywhere. “We are hungry but we are still here. I'm just trying to take care of the people who rely on me.” He sounds power-hungry. Most men these days that's why Fedra has so many soldiers. “So you are their leader. “ The words barely leave your mouth before he is trying to justify his actions. “I didn't make that decision. “

“So you're a cult” You've heard about groups like this from Tess. “Well you kinda got me there I am a preacher. but just the standard bible stuff.” You roll your eyes. “I can't believe people still believe that garbage” “I actually started believing after the outbreak before that I taught math to kids” You tune him out as he continues on his garbage. You are not in the mood to listen to the rambles of a desperate man.

“Only three of them came back. The one that didn't was a father. He had a daughter a bit younger than you. Her dad was taken from her. Turns out he was murdered by a crazy couple. Get this crazy couple traveling with a girl about your age.” You jump up as the bushes move behind you. ”James lowers the gun”. “You're the one who killed Alec” His voice is filled with venom. “She didn’t kill anybody, lower the gun” James lowers his gun slowly but you hold yours as steady as you can. “Throw her the medicine” David orders. “David.” James reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small wrapped package. “ Back up” He follows your command and you pick it up, securing it in your pocket. You turn and sprint into the woods. Not even worrying about the trail you are leaving.

As soon as you make it back to the house. You tear open the package to find two small vials as well as a needle inside. You tilt the vial and extract some of the liquid. You pull up Joel's shirt. You have no idea where to apply this. Near the wound has to be the best place. You inject it just above the wound before moving on to Tess You remove the rest of the liquid and inject it just above Tess’s wound. She groans and you watch as her eyelids flutter. You force sips of water and bits of rations down their throats. After that, there isn't much you can do until tomorrow morning. You cuddle up between them the rifle held tightly in your hands. Now that those men know you are here you have no doubt they will come looking for you.

The first thing you do when you wake up is give them both another round. After some water and rations, you grab the rifle and head out. You need to patrol the area and keep an eye out for those men no doubt they will have followed your trail. The sun blinds you as you weave between houses. They will be on the main street which means you need to avoid walking in the open as much as possible. You hear them first then they come into view trailing down the main road guns in hand. You can already tell they are here to kill them. Those are the faces of people who want revenge and they will not stop until they know that they're dead. You've seen it on Tess and Joel’s faces way too often.

You race back to the house and down to the basement. No matter what happens you need to keep them safe. They are your only family, the only thing that matters. “You two need to pay attention there are men coming here to kill you. I am going to lead them away but if anyone gets down here you kill them” You press a knife to each of their chests and sprint up the stairs.

Your plan so far is to run to David and tell him that the medicine didn’t work; that they both died in the night. So smear some extra deer blood on you for added effect. It isn't hard to find them, the hard part is making yourself cry beforehand. Not silent tears, it needs to be ugly snotty tears. It has to be tears of grief. As soon as they start to fall down your cheeks you run out at them. He catches you and you can feel the surprise from the entire group. “It didn’t work” You sob clutching at him. “The medicine didn’t save them” You bite back a gag as David wraps his arms around you. Your tears sock into his jacket as he speaks.” It's going to be alright we have you now” You groan as something hard hits the back of your head.

When you come to you are in a large cell. I started worrying that you were going to wake up” David's voice makes you push yourself up. You don't want to be in a vulnerable position with a man like that around. “Let me out” You use your softest little girl voice. “That is certainly the goal. Hungry'' You don’t want any food he could offer. “Why am I in a cage? '' You whisper, crawling towards him. “It's just a precaution. My people want to make sure that you are safe before we let you out after they say what your friends could do.Im sorry about what happened to them. I thought it would work.” He trails off as you stand up. You can tell he is lying and he wants them dead. “The others want you dead for what they did. But I stopped them” He sounds too proud of himself. As if he feels he deserves something from you

“Why don’t we start with your name” You need to get him to trust you even if that means lying to him about your name. “It's Veronica” You feel no guilt about lying to this man hes already lied to you. “That is a good start if we can keep this up I will be able to let you out soon” And with that he heads out of the room. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He returns near evening with a tray of food. He slides it onto the floor in your cell. You sit down near the edge and lean down your eyes darting around until they land on a strip of the floor a couple feet away. There lies a bloody ear you want to throw up. Sure you had heard the horror stories in the QZ but you never believed them. David follows your gaze and lets out a low chuckle when his eyes meet the ear. “ for what it's worth this is just deer meat” He gestures to the tray as you back away slightly. “Are you going to eat me too?” The words get caught in your throat? “I would rather not but if you can't find it in you to trust me.” This was a terrible idea.

“How could I you trust you, you are eating people.” You shout. “There are only a few that know but I would have told you. This was a last resort. You think it doesn't mean to me” You don’t know what to think other than that you need to get out of here. “What was I supposed to do? Let them starve these people who rely on me.” He shouts right back. “Yes this is inhuman I would rather starve then eat another person.” You scream grabbing onto the bars of your cell. “I'll come back for your sake I hope you can change your mind” He storms out his footsteps echoing around the room.

The next thing you know James is running into your cell and grabbing you. He grips one arm and David grips the other. You lean down and bit into his forearm. They drag you out and slam you onto the table. “Don't do it please” You shout as David raises the knife. This has escalated really fast. “You had your chance” He shouts. “I'm infected. I'm infected” You scream. “And now you are too” You look down to where you bit him. ”Roll up my sleeve and look at it” He slams the knife into the table and harshly rolls up your sleeve. You know the sight all too well the tendrils under your skin the outline of teeth. There is no doubt it's an infected bite.

“She would have turned by now this isn't real” He has to believe this is your only out. “It looks pretty fucking real to me” He isnt going to belive you wich means you need to take matters into your own hands. You rip the knife out of the table and slam it into James' neck before running away. You burst into what looks to be a kitchen. Before running out into a sort of dining room. You make for the doors but they're locked.

You need to find a weapon and run back into the kitchen and grab a log from the fire. You wait as David's footsteps grow closer. You jump up and huck it at him before running away. “There is no way out.” You crawl along the floor trying to stay as far away as you can. “Those doors are locked and I have the only keys. Come out” His footsteps come closer but there is nowhere left to go. “No one infected would fight this hard to stay alive.” You race back into the kitchen and grab a knife “You have no idea what I could have given you” You sneak back out of the kitchen the knife held tightly in your hand. You have to do this; it's the only way out.

“I changed my mind. I am going to keep you. Come out “You run out of the kitchen and tackle him to the ground. The first stab goes into his throat and after that, you just stab until he stops moving. There is no way you are letting this fucker come after you. You don’t stop until you can’t even recognize the body anymore.

You pull the keys from his belt and run towards the food. Your fingers slide as you try to unlock the door but eventually you get it. You can’t run but you walk as fast as you can away from the building. You need to get back to Tess and Joel. They can’t be doing well without you. You never should have left them. This whole thing was an awful mistake.

You let out a terrified scream as strong arms wrap around your chest. You use your nails to claw at their skin. “Oh, baby girl” You keep screaming as the person forces you around in their arms. “It's Mama it's going to be alright Mama got you” You finally look up to see the person holding you is Tess. “Mama “ You sob. “Yes it's mama baby it’s gonna be okay” You relax into her as your tears grow. “JOEL…” Mama shouts. “JOEL I HAVE HER” Mama shouts again. Then you see daddy stumbling out of a building. Looking almost as bad as when you left him. He sets both of his hands on your cheeks. “Daddy here baby girl” You only sob more. “We have got to get out of here. The horses are just outside of town. Can you walk” You manage a good and your three stumbles out of town.

Your tear has long since dried up by the time they are getting prepped for the night. The house itself isn't bad but it smells awful. “C'mere” Tess calls to you from where she is stoking the fire. You creep over and crouch down by her side. You are so tired after everything that happened that all you wanted to do was eat and sleep. The thought of eating after seeing what David was doing makes you want to vomit. You can’t imagen ever eating again the thought is revolting.

Tess turns to you and takes your face in both of her hands. She has been trying to comfort you since you got to this house. She opens her mouth to speak but she gets distracted as Joel comes stumbling down the stairs. “I've got a mattress” He says panting slightly. A mattress slides down the stairs landing next to Joel.

“Let me help you. They begin to push the couches out of the way to make room for the mattress. You stand up to help them but Joel just pushes you to sit back down. “Relax baby”. They drag the mattress close to the fire and toss some pillows from the couch onto it. “I'll go find some blankets” Joel heads back upstairs. An overwhelming wave of exhaustion overtakes you. You want to lay down and never get up.

Tess comes to rest on the mattress. She opens her arms and you crawl into them. You burrow close to her as the tears gather again. You have no way of explaining to her how you feel. If she trys to feed you real food right now you might just die. It’s almost as if she can sense your unease beacuse her next words calm your nerves.

“We saw the bodies we know that he was eating people. If that means you need milk and not real food that is perfectly okay.” Tess explains her hand rubbing large circles over your back. “We never should have let that happen. We are going to make sure nothing like that ever happens again” Tess runs her finger through your hair more to comfort herself then to comfort you.

There are no more words spoken after that. She just lets you drink until Joel comes down to join you and even then her words are spoken in a rushed whisper. You are just so happy they both made it. The thought that they almost died because you didn’t know how to help them is an awful one. For the first night in a long time you fall into a deep sleep.

#tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #joel x reader x tess #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou one shot #tlou imagine

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