When the House Is Quiet
Request: Yes / No Could you do a luke alvez fic about him coming home after a tough case? Maybe something that triggered his PTSS, and the reader has to comfort him? if that’s too dark for you i get it:) Anon
Request are open but ONLY if they’re Twilight or Supernatural! <3 Have a nice day/night
<3 Have a nice day/night
Luke Alvez x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1143
Warnings:
Y/N: Your Name
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*Luke’s POV*
The house was dark when I came home. That alone felt wrong. Usually, there was some sign of Y/N- music playing low in the kitchen, the soft glow of a lamp in the living room, her shoes kicked off near the couch like she forgot them there. Tonight, the place was still. Silent in a way that pressed in on me.
I closed the door carefully behind me, the soft click of the lock echoing too loudly in my ears. I stood there for a moment, hand still on the doorknob, breathing slowly. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. I’d done this a hundred times after cases- grounding myself before stepping fully back into civilian life. Before becoming just Luke again instead of Agent.
It didn’t work.
The case clung to me like smoke. The unsub had been ex-military. Improvised traps. A basement filled with restraints and soundproofing foam. The smell of damp concrete and blood. The way the victim had screamed when we found her- alive, but barely. The scream echoed now, sharp and sudden in my head. I flinched, jaw tightening.
You’re home. I told myself. You’re safe.
I slipped out of my jacket, draping it over the chair by the door, and moved quietly down the hallway. The bedroom door was cracked open. Warm light spilled into the hall, soft and golden. She was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, a book open in her lap. She looked up the second I appeared in the doorway, concern immediately replacing the faint awareness in her eyes.
“Hey,” She said gently. “You’re home.”
I nodded. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” She set the book aside. “I was waiting.”
That did something to my chest. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, and leaned against it, like my legs had suddenly forgotten how to work. Y/N watched me carefully, taking in the tension in my shoulders, the way my hands curled into fists at my sides.
“Tough one?” She asked softly.
I let out a short, humorless breath. “You could say that.”
She didn’t push. Y/N learned over months, over nights like this, that I needed space to arrive before I could talk. So she just opened her arms. I crossed the room without thinking and sank onto the bed beside her, letting myself lean into her chest. Y/N wrapped her arms around me immediately, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head. I inhaled her scent- lavender soap, clean cotton, something warm and familiar- and his body sagged.
For a moment, I was okay. Then the sound came. A sharp, metallic clink- the radiator kicking on in the apartment below, echoing faintly through the walls. I stiffened instantly. My breathing hitched. My heart slammed into overdrive, loud and fast, like it was trying to break free of his ribs. The room tilted, shadows stretching too long, too dark.
Concrete walls.
Zip ties.
The smell of fear.
“Luke?” Y/N murmured, feeling the sudden change.
“Hey- Hey, you’re here. You’re with me.”
I shook my head, fingers digging into her shirt.
“I-” My voice caught. “I can’t-”
“I know.” She said calmly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
She shifted, guiding me gently until I was sitting upright, knees bent, feet planted on the floor.
“Look at me.” She said softly.
I tried.
Failed.
My eyes were unfocused, tracking something that wasn’t there. Y/N placed her hands on my cheeks, thumbs brushing along my jaw.
“Luke, can you tell me five things you can see?”
I swallowed hard.
“Um,” I rasped. “The- lamp. Your… your blue blanket. The dresser. The window. Your necklace.”
“Good,” She praised. “Four things you can feel.”
“Your hands,” I said, voice shaking. “The bed. My boots. The air.”
“That’s it. Three things you can hear.”
I listened, forcing myself to focus. “Your voice. The clock. Traffic.”
“Two things you can smell.”
I breathed in. “Your shampoo. Coffee- old coffee.”
She smiled faintly.” And one thing you can taste.”
I licked my lips. “Mint. Toothpaste.”
Y/N nodded. “You’re here. You’re safe.”
The words didn’t magically fix everything, but they anchored me enough that the room stopped spinning. My breathing slowly evened out, though my hands still trembled.
“I’m sorry,’ I whispered. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t.” Y/N cut in gently. “You don’t have to apologize for this.”
I shook my head. “I hate bringing it home. I hate that you have to see me like this.”
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine.
“I don’t have to see you like this. I get to. Because this is part of you.”
I laughed weakly. “Not exactly the charming part.”
“I didn’t fall in love with charming.” She said. “I fell in love with you.”
That broke me.
My shoulders shook as I finally let the tears come- silent, frustrated, angry tears that I held back for hours. Y/N pulled me into her arms again, rocking me slightly, one hand moving soothingly up and down my back.
“You did everything you could.” She murmured. “You saved her.”
“Barely…” I whispered. “I keep hearing her scream. Keeps playing over and over.”
“I know.” Y/N said softly. “Your brain’s trying to protect you, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”
I pulled back just enough to look at her. “Does it ever stop?”
Y/N hesitated- not because she didn’t want to answer, but because she wanted to be honest.
“It gets quieter,” She said. “And when it’s loud… you won’t be alone.”
I nodded, trusting her more than I trusted my own thoughts right now.
We changed quietly- I shed my clothes with stiff, mechanical movements, Y/N helping when my hands shook too much. She guided me into bed, pulling the blankets up around us, fitting herself against my side. I curled toward her instinctively, one arm draped protectively around her waist, my face tucked into her shoulder.
“I keep thinking, what if next time I don’t get there in time?” I murmured into the dark.
Y/N ran her fingers through my hair. “Then you’ll grieve. And you’ll feel it. And you’ll still come home.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll break?” I asked quietly.
She pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m not afraid of loving someone who feels deeply.”
I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally dragging me under.
“Thanks.” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For being my safe place.”
Y/N smiled softly, holding me as my breathing slowed, steady and even. Outside, the city kept moving. Sirens wailed somewhere far away. Darkness pressed at the windows. But inside, in the quiet of our shared space, I slept- held together by strong arms, gentle words, and the knowledge that when the memories came back, I wouldn’t face them alone.
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