#aaaaand time for shit to hit the fan

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 11 Summary:

After leaving Cooper back at the house, Paul takes you back to the one place you hoped to never return to. Hoping to persuade you, he takes you on a trip down memory lane but you aren't the woman Paul thinks you are anymore. Instead of a docile wife, he gets Joel fucking Miller's mate. (Good fucking luck pal) With Joel racing to get to the abandoned camp, can you keep Paul from doing anything brash before the love of your life can get to you? More importantly, can you keep your own anger from getting the best of you?

Warnings: Past Trauma Came Back to Be a Current Trauma, Reader Faces a Toxic Ass Ex, Violence, Threat of SA, Reader Needs a Fucking Hug, Joel Needs a Hug, Panicked and then Happier Reunions, Bits of Joel's Past Trauma Make Him Lose His Shit, Read with Caution

A/N:

Hey y'all! Aaaaand, we back! Hope everyone's week has been good. It is 4am and I have to get on a plane to Spain today at like 7, so let's jump right in.

So, this week is heavy on the violence. Reader is back at her old camp with Paul and they have a bit of a throwdown. Also trigger warning for, because it's Paul and he fucking sucks, threat of SA. Except this time it is definitly realer so, watch it if that is a problem for you. As always, take care of yourselves. Either way, reader and Joel DO reunite in this chapter. It just isn't... how you hope they will. And that is all I will say about that! Enjoy!

Chapter 11/20

Chapter 11: The Breaking Point

When you were five years old, the world had been turned upside down. That day haunted you for many reasons as it changed the trajectory of not only your life, but of the lives of the entire human race as well. However, that wasn’t what kept the day consistently fresh in your mind. Selfishly, it was the afternoon before the shit hit the fan that stayed with you even twenty years later. 

The day had been warm. It was your first year in kindergarten and you loved every moment of it. Learning new things and playing with other kids was everything you could’ve dreamed of. Being an only child, sometimes it felt that the only friends you had were your parents. Despite the usual worries about fitting in, you were quickly taken in by fellow classmates and were beginning to get comfortable in the new environment. 

Nevertheless, you had immediately ditched the group of new friends when your father had rolled up to the curb during recess in his beaten up Nissan. Running and shouting for him, you launched yourself face first into the driver’s side window and were met with boisterous laughter. After settling you in the front seat beside him, a treat that he had made you promise not to tell your mother about, he had taken you for an impromptu ice cream date. 

Even as a fully grown woman, when you remembered that day you could still taste the sweetness of the bubblegum ice cream that had made your hands sticky. Your father had listened to you babble about toys, games, the other kids in your class, and everything that a child’s brain experienced in the run of a day. Never once did he interrupt, other than to comment on the side characters or to agree with some point you had made. For a five year old girl, the day was perfect. 

That was until the sound of a slap had drawn your attention away from the tasty treat that dripped down your hands. Peering over from the picnic bench, you watched as an alpha gripped his mate’s arm hard and berated him in front of the ice cream truck. The omega looked a little afraid but mostly, you noticed that the poor guy just looked exhausted. If anything, you had been more afraid than he. 

In your five years of life, not once had you ever seen an alpha act like that. Your father was a sweet man who spent his time designing the layout of people’s dream homes in his office. When he wasn’t doing that, you had vague memories of him cooking and slow dancing with your mother when she got home from work. Not once had he hit her, nor anyone else, which meant that the sight of another alpha doing so was terrifying. 

“Stay here metuka, I’ll be back in a second,”he mumbled to you, rising from the table to diffuse the situation. 

An argument had broken out between your father and the frightening man, leading to the cops being called and the alpha being taken away in handcuffs. Your father had stayed with the shaken omega, comforting him until an older woman came to pick him up. The entire time, you watched the situation unfold. Half in awe, half in terror, the ice cream in your hand had melted entirely by the time your father returned. 

The vibrant pink treat was stuck to nearly every inch of your skin and clothes. Your father wasn’t mad, he never was. Instead, he had made a joke about it and brought you home for a bath. You remembered how the air was filled with your father’s words as he washed the stickiness from your skin, with him trying desperately to change your mood. It was only when he had moved to wash the suds from your hair that you finally piped up. 

“Why would he hit his mate like that papa?,” you whispered. 

His hands paused before they resumed their work. The shampoo he used was your favorite, boasting no tears for the kids that used it. However, anytime you tried to wash it out yourself, your parents would have to comfort their crying child as it burned your retinas. It was for that reason that you weren’t allowed to use it by yourself yet. Shielding your eyes from the watermelon scented suds, your father gently rinsed it from your hair as he pondered the question. 

“Sometimes alphas can be… Well, they can be mean. It isn’t right but they think they can act like that because they think omegas aren’t as good as them,” your father explained carefully. 

The notion of a world where one was above the other, where omegas were somehow lesser than, was new to you. Growing up, it had been your mother with the high paying job as a lawyer, while your father stayed home with you in lieu of daycare. It was only once you were enrolled in kindergarten that he had returned to his job as an architect. Although, he still only did it part time. With the money your mother was making, there was no need for him to jump back in right away and he preferred to spend time with you anyways. 

“But why?,” you pushed him, still not understanding why an alpha would hurt their mate. 

He hummed as the water finally ran clear, urging you to sit up so that he could wring the errant drops of water out of your hair. After pausing to think for a moment, your father had answered you in a voice so soft that you barely heard him. 

“People are only mean to other people to make themselves feel better. Alphas like that, they feel like they have to be scary or else they won’t be seen as strong. It has nothing to do with anyone but themselves.” 

You had blinked at that, unsure of what to make of such a statement. It was too big of a topic for a five year old. The idea of someone pretending to be anyone other than themselves was too large for the mind of someone who didn’t even know who they were yet. Still, you tried to understand as your father toweled you off, straining against the confines of a child’s mind to grasp the concept. 

“But…,” you paused before trying again, “But you aren’t mean papa.”  

He had laughed at that, looking up at you as he dried off your feet. Watching as his curls bounced against his forehead with his laughter, you felt as though you might start laughing alongside him. He always had that effect on people. As an adult, even as the lesser memories faded, you always remembered how talented the man was at drawing people out of their shells and making them smile. 

“Well thank you bubs but that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he chuckled. 

Reaching behind himself to grab the clothes on the sink, he continued to speak as he clothed you. 

“Promise me one thing, okay? I don’t know who you’re going to be when you get older, alpha, omega, beta, whatever, but just promise me you won’t be that guy. Or, if you present as an omega like mommy, promise me that you won’t be with someone like him. Okay?” 

His eyes had looked at you hopefully, hands pausing their efforts to roll your Little Mermaid socks on. You smiled at him. 

“I promise papa.” 

He nodded, “Good. Kindness isn’t something that I ever want you to opt out of. Whether that be how you act towards someone else or how someone acts towards you. Choose to be kind and choose to surround yourself with people who are kind to you. Do you understand?” 

You had nodded at his request and he smiled, leaning forward to blow a raspberry on your cheek until you giggled. 

“Papa! Stop it!,” you squealed. 

His smile had widened. The look on his face turned mischievous as he proposed, “Come on, let’s see if we can find any of mommy’s sweets before she gets home hm?” 

You remembered the excitement you had felt at that, racing after your father to raid the not-so-secret, secret hiding place where your mother hid Reese’s Pieces and Kit Kats from her family. The next few hours had been perfect, binging snacks and playing with your dad until the world quite literally ended later that evening. 

Even then, it was still okay for a while. Sure, you had been scared at times but your father always held his head high, which made everyone else around him feel like everything would eventually be okay. Despite the impossible odds and grueling circumstances, your father was still making his family laugh well into the first few months of the apocalypse. It was too bad that he had only lasted about half a year before getting bit. 

Unbeknownst to him, even as other memories of him had faded away, the advice he gave you that day remained clear and unaltered. Perhaps it was the gravity of the day, it being the final moments of civilization, but you didn’t think so. No, it was the lesson itself. Through every moment of your fucked up life, the people in it had been judged to that standard. 

Sometimes it was easy, with people like Josiah or Paul being clearly placed on one side of the spectrum, but other times it was harder. It had been hard for you to judge Joel at first, with his crankiness and inability to open up. Nevertheless after a few days with the man, you placed him easily on the opposite end as them. 

Joel might have been hard to get to know, but the wait was worth it. He was soft underneath it all and actually put in a real effort to make you happy. It was everything you could’ve wanted and you knew your father would have approved of the match, despite the age difference. However, somewhere along the line you had begun to wonder whether he would have approved of you. 

Sitting in the passenger seat of the shitty car, next to the man you hated most in this world, you couldn’t see yourself in any of those people. The alpha who had hit his mate did so out of a need for dominance but that wasn’t you. And the omega who had taken the abuse had done so out of duty but you didn’t feel like that was you either. Maybe it had been at one point, when Josiah and his crew had scared you into obedience, but not now. 

Even your father, the standard for what it meant to be kind, was not someone you saw yourself in anymore either. He had been too tender for a world like this one, having literally thrown himself in front of infected for a woman that he didn’t even know. Meanwhile, you had slaughtered the majority of a town to regain someone that had been taken from you. You tried to imagine a world where your father would do that but couldn’t. Acts of violence simply weren't in his wheelhouse. 

That meant that you were something else entirely. An elusive fourth category that you couldn’t quite grasp, despite your attempts at identifying it as the car turned off the road just before the I-80. It was not for dominance, or duty, or for the desire to be good that you had slashed through Paul’s men. None of those reasons held any value to you. 

The fierce protectiveness over the man you loved had propelled you into action back at the cabin. Yet it was an inherited rage that trickled down to you from generations of people who had been taken for granted that kept you going. How dare anyone take him. And how dare they assume that you would lay down and let it happen because of some bullshit myth about biological inferiority. 

Rumbling down the snow covered road, you held your breath, trying to calm the rage that still burned within as Paul carefully followed the tire tracks that led to the old camp. Returning to the place you had spent a good portion of your life in was strange. The homecoming fell flat, with nothing but ghosts to greet the two of you as the car neared the gate. 

“Why here?,” you wondered aloud. 

The question seemed to catch him off guard, you having been silent since the squabble that had taken place just an hour before. 

“Because it’s where this all began, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “Wouldn’t just shooting me be easier? Why take me to a place filled with infected? Kinda overkill if you ask me.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve already cleared them out. Knew I’d get my sweet little wife back here at some point. Thought that a nice trip down memory lane might be what she needs to remember her place,” he said pointedly. 

You tried not to gag, staring at the bruise along his jaw before you turned back to the window with a huff. 

Tried as you might to fight Paul, he had tripped you up at the very last moment and managed to tie your hands together. Rather than kill you, as you had hoped he might, the man decided he wanted to go on what he called “an adventure”. It frustrated you. The thought of dying was way more preferable than having to take an impromptu road trip with Paul. 

As the trees receded, you watched as the skeleton of your old camp was revealed. The gate was wide open, beckoning the vehicle onto the empty streets. After passing through the first few homes, you tried not to cry as you passed Jake’s aunt's house. The tiny home where the two of you had swapped contraband books and chattered about teenage crushes was ruined. The majority of the building had been destroyed in the flames. 

“You weren’t there when the dumbasses brought out the molotovs huh? Fucking mess, half of them missed the horde and it ended up destroying most of the town,” Paul commented as he followed your gaze towards the wreckage. 

You looked away from the scenery as the car neared your old home. There was no part of you that wanted any more memories of that place. You had escaped. It didn’t matter that you were at the camp again, it would never have the same hold on you. And neither would Paul. For the remainder of the drive you kept silent, locked within your own mind as he neared the edge of camp. 

“Okay, we’re here,” Paul announced as he parked in front of the old chapel. 

One side of it had been blackened by the flames but besides that, the place where Josiah had preached his poison remained entirely untouched. 

Shame , you thought. If there was one place that deserved to burn, it was the chapel that had sponsored nothing but hatred for years. 

The steeple still held the cross that loomed over visitors, making you feel uneasy as the shadow of it slid across the side of the car. The shutters on all of the windows were shut, though a few of them rattled against the window panes with the breeze. With the snow shoveled off the steps, it looked just as it always had on the evenings when you were forced into prayer circles or grueling all night confessionals. 

Paul wrenched the door to the driver’s side open, pulling you from the chilling thoughts as he stomped around the front of the car. An involuntary yelp fell from your lips as he opened the passenger side with such force that it shook the car. Before you could think to resist, he yanked you from the seat. Fingers pressing into the blackened indents he had left days earlier, your already damaged wrist creaked under the pressure of his grasp. 

“Fucking watch it,” you hissed.  

Paul smirked but ignored your protests, tugging you alongside him as he climbed the stairs. His long strides made it impossible for you to catch up. Stumbling behind him, you fought against the zip ties to free your hands. The plastic restraints left reddened indents on your skin but barely budged despite your struggle.  

The smell of the dusty building made you sneeze and it echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Stone floors gave way to a huge wooden cross hung near the altar. An emaciated man looked down at you from it, wincing at the nails driven into his hands as he hung there. You had always found the display jarring. If people loved this guy so much, you never understood why they thought it was a good idea to depict his death in nearly every place of worship or even with the jewelry they wore. If Paul stabbed you to death today, you didn’t expect Joel to start wearing a blade around his neck tomorrow. 

You laughed at the morbid thought, drawing a confused look from Paul that you ignored. 

No, that would be weird. If anything, you hoped that when Paul killed you that Joel would simply take care of himself. That he would continue to eat, sleep, play his guitar, carve things, and above all, for him to not close himself off again. Maybe Joel would even go live with his brother in Jackson, rather than resigning himself to solitude again. It was a pipe dream and you knew it, but it didn’t stop you from manifesting it into existence. 

Paul stepped before you and swung the basement door open, nudging you towards the dimly lit steps until you haphazardly stumbled down them. The space was as you remembered it, with discarded boxes and books everywhere. You half expected to come across Cooper tucked away in his corner, twiddling his thumbs in the quiet room while the rest of camp busied themselves elsewhere. But Cooper was nowhere to be found, leaving you alone with his terrifying brother. 

The only new edition to the space was the candles that covered nearly every inch of the floor. Some were even placed upon the stacked books. Melted wax stained the paperbacks before it dripped down to the awful carpet below. Half of them were scented, leading to a cacophony of smells that sparked a dull ache in the base of your skull. The only consolation was that the stifling mix of fragrances almost covered Paul’s sickly sweet stench entirely.  

Stepping around a row of bookshelves, you noticed that two chairs and a table were placed in the middle of the room. Wine glasses were set out, accompanied by what looked to be one of the treasured bottles of whiskey that Josiah used to hide amongst the clutter. It seemed that you weren’t the only one who had figured out where he had stashed the liquor before the place fell. 

“I thought I was the only one who knew where he hid it,” you blurted out. 

Paul smiled at you. His eyes were flat despite the expression on his face and the wink he gave you made your stomach drop.  

“I thought a nice night was in order. This is going to be our first night together as man and wife after all,” he sighed dreamily.  

Scoffing at the implication as he led you towards the table, you glared at him while he tucked you into one of the seats. Paul leaned forward and you grimaced as he flicked open his pocket knife. He grabbed your hands, making you hold your breath until he slipped the blade against the zip tie and snapped the plastic. 

“Be good and maybe I’ll keep these off, got it?,” he said, pressing the knife to your throat for emphasis. 

The blade was cool against your skin and goosebumps formed around it. Despite the desire to grab at the hilt of it and drive it into his chest, you refrained. Swallowing your pride, you nodded. Paul pressed it harder for a moment, making you tense up before he finally set it down. Chuckling as he walked to the other side of the table, you watched as he took his seat. 

Silence filled the air as the two of you stared at each other. Paul’s gaze was sinister, while yours was pointed with rage. With you sat in front of him, he looked like a beast that had finally caught its prey. It made you even more annoyed. 

“Well this is… something,” you mumbled cheekily. 

Paul laughed, showing off his crooked teeth as he threw his head back. You recoiled at the sound, the last thing you wanted to do was give this man any bit of joy. 

“My, my, how you’ve changed angel,” he chuckled, “Knew you were a bit disobedient before; the preacher’s sweet stepdaughter who pressed the line when nobody was looking. It was cute, sexy even. But now, you’re downright insolent.” 

You cocked your head. Paul had no idea what kind of insolence you were capable of. 

“You’re goddamn right I am,” you agreed. 

The air was thick with tension. A darkness settled across Paul’s features and you sat back against your seat, waiting for the inevitable torment that he planned to inflict. His eyes raked over your form before they landed on your neck. The mark that adorned it was uncovered, standing proudly against your skin despite Paul’s attempts to sear it off with his gaze. 

“I always knew that your kind were desperate little things but I genuinely thought you were different. That was my mistake, thinking that you understood the rules. I let you prance around until I decide that you’re ready, then you were supposed to be mine for the taking.” 

The words lit a spark in your chest and heat radiated out into your limbs, making your fingers twitch with frustration as you listened to him speak. What Paul was telling you was sick. There was no prancing around the camp, and you certainly didn’t feel the need to apologize for not knowing the rules to some twisted game he had envisioned. You were a child when you arrived at the camp, not some prize for him to win once you reached a suitable age. 

Paul hummed, cocking his head at your silence, “Nothing to say? That’s alright, we’ve got all night for confessions.” 

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, “What do you want from me Paul?” 

He ignored the question and reached forward to uncork the bottle. Despite the strained silence, his hands were steady as he poured the amber liquid and pushed one of the glasses towards you. A bit of it sloshed over the side, staining the perfectly white tablecloth below. Paul huffed and covered the spot with a napkin. He dabbed at it for a moment before he nodded at you to take a sip. The casualness of his actions annoyed you to no end. 

“It doesn’t matter what you do to me. I hope you know that.” 

Paul grinned, “Doesn’t it?” 

“No. Joel is mine and I am his. You can hurt me. You can kill me. Shit, you can even do the same to him but it won’t matter. You. Lost. Nothing can change that,” you snapped at him. 

The words irked him, hardening the lines in his face as you leaned in for emphasis. You laughed and it filled the air, making him flinch despite his attempts to keep his face schooled. 

“Joel is the one who gets to have me. He gets to take care of me, touch me, fuck me, anything he wants and fuck, is he good at it. See, my mate doesn’t need to overcompensate for anything,” you sneered, flicking your eyes up and down Paul’s body as he fumed under the scrutiny.

Paul leaned forward, smelling of rotted candies and sweat as the air crackled with energy. The proximity made you nauseous but you refused to pull back first. 

As if his soul sensed your discomfort, Joel’s presence on the planet made itself known when the mark on your neck throbbed almost painfully. It was unlike any of the other times, when he had been unwittingly calling out for you from his imprisonment. This was sharper and unrelenting, with a deep ache sending jolts of agony all the way to your jaw as you tried to keep your cool. 

Joel was somewhere and he was scared. No, not scared. Joel Miller was fucking terrified. Instincts going wild from the unseen threat poised towards your mate, the muscles in your back tensed as your body readied itself for a fight. It was pointless. There was nothing you could do for him from here. That was all you could think of as Paul stood from his seat.

He grabbed his glass, lifting it in the air as his malicious scowl pierced through you. 

“A toast then, to Joel Miller! The man who turned my perfect, pure wife into a fucking stupid slut. May he rest easy,” Paul chuckled darkly. 

You shifted in your seat, hand cupping where Joel had staked his claim. The corners of your vision blurred as your heart pounded in your chest. Beads of sweat formed along your hairline, the droplets rolling down your face as he smiled down at you. 

“So you do feel each other? I’ve always wondered if that was a myth or not,” he mused, words half muffled as he leaned in to sip his drink.  

That got your attention. Dread hooked into your heart, pulling you back down into a darkness that you had only recently discovered in yourself. With the bond thrumming with Joel’s despair and your adversary leering at you from behind a whiskey glass, you let it take hold of you. It calmed the shivers that racked your frame, slowing your shallow breaths until you were calm enough to grab the glass Paul had poured for you. 

He watched as you downed it in one go and slammed it back down. It burned the entire way down but soothed the hunger pangs that you had been ignoring for days. You hummed at the taste of it, smacking your lips at the notes of caramel and spice. 

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?,” Paul teased, “Bet he’s dead before I even get done breaking you open on my knot. The old man looked pretty banged up when I saw him earlier. I think-” 

“Is this bourbon? I thought it was single malt but no, it’s too sweet to be that. What is it? Woodford Reserve? I bet it is, Josiah loved that shit,” you cut in, dampening the twisted smile on his face. 

Paul blinked, “Is it - What? Did you hear what I just said?” 

You nodded and reached forward, pouring yourself another glass as he sputtered before you. The second glass slid down easier and warmth flooded your face. Emboldened at his surprise, you poured another but left the glass on the table, letting it breathe as you leaned back and stared at the alpha. Paul was furious. A vein popped out of the side of his head as he clenched his fists together tight. 

“He’s going to fucking die, do you hear me?! That fucking prick is dead and you are going to do as I say!,” Paul roared as he launched his glass against the wall behind you. 

It smashed somewhere amongst the candles and papers but you gritted your teeth, remaining steady as warning bells went off in your head. Taking a subtle breath, you simply cocked your head at him as he fumed from across the table. 

“You know, you’re right Paul, I can feel him. Which means that I know that he’s still alive. So threats aren’t really going to cut it unfortunately,” you said. 

Nostrils flaring, Paul rounded the table. Stomping towards you angrily, you gulped as he pulled your chair sideways to face him. Looming over you, his eyes desperately tried to penetrate the barrier you had formed around yourself since the day Joel was taken. You didn’t blame Paul for trying, it used to be so easy to make you scared. 

You sucked in a breath as his thumb dragged along your lower lip, pressing down against the pillowy skin before he let his hand drop. The grotesque mixture of sweat, blood, and dirt caked his fingers, leaving behind a smear of filth that made you gag. 

“What are you thinking, angel? That you can beat me and then go get him all by yourself?,” Paul chuckled and shook his head, “Little superhero are we? Be reasonable.” 

Instead of answering his taunt, you plucked your drink from the table. Taking a long draw from the glass, you sucked back half of it before you looked back at Paul. Splotches of red crept up along his neck, discoloring the already bruised skin with rage. It made you smile. 

“Is this fucking funny to you?,” Paul hissed. 

You nodded, grinning wider at the way his face scrunched up even further. Nevertheless, the amusement was short lived as one of Paul’s hands reached down to his belt and worked it open menacingly. His gaze was fixed on you when your eyes snapped to his face. There was nothing behind his eyes as he ripped the leather from his belt loops and it was terrifying. With his belt flung somewhere behind him, Paul twiddled with the top button to his jeans. 

“Think it’s time for a lesson, wife.” 

It was now or never. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, husband,” you agreed. 

Before Paul had a moment to register your words, the half emptied drink in your hand was slammed against his head. He cried out in pain as the glass tore open the skin of his forehead. The amber liquid dripped down his face, burning his eyes despite his discoordinated attempts to wipe them clean. 

With Paul occupied, you launched off the chair. The force of your body knocked him over an errant box and sent the both of you tumbling to the floor. The impact of the fall was lessened by Paul’s body but your head knocked against his harshly. The both of you grunted at the collision but it was him that managed to right himself first. 

He flipped you over, slamming you back against the cold floor as his fingers crept up your torso and squeezed your trachea. You tried desperately to pry his hands off. A cough wiggled up from your burning chest but it was halted by the brutal grip. Panic set in as his fingers expertly pushed into the blood vessels, cutting off the supply of oxygen to your brain. Dizzied and weak from his hold, it began to feel like you were fighting against air. 

“Aw, my sweet angel, can’t believe it’s to come to this,” Paul squeezed harder, “Thought it could be like it was before but no, you need some harsher lessons for this to work.” 

Fingernails scrabbling against his arms, neck, and face, you fought as hard as you could. Tears blurred your vision, making it impossible for you to track his movements as he moved one of his hands down to fight with the zipper of his jeans. Paul bared nearly the entirety of his weight against your neck as he worked himself out of his pants until it felt like something inside of it might burst. Crushed beneath him, you could barely react at the feeling of his hardness poking your thigh. 

“Been waiting years for this, since the first day I met you. Such a sweet little fucking tease, can’t wait to fuck any trace of him out of you,” Paul rambled.  

He spoke only to himself. You weren’t even in the room. Floating somewhere between life and death, your head lolled to the side as he released himself from the confines of his boxers. This was it. There was nothing you could do. You blinked deeply, slowly letting the dark edges bleed into your vision. It would be easier this way. Unconscious or dead, at least you wouldn’t have to feel what Paul was about to do. 

A palm cracked down against your cheek and your face snapped in the opposite direction. You coughed as the pressure on your neck ceased. The air was acrid as you sputtered and wheezed beneath Paul. The thickness of the scent coated the back of your throat and tickled your lungs. Despite the grogginess, you worked against the fog to pinpoint the smell but it was nearly impossible as another round of smacks were rained down against your face. 

“Oh no angel, you don’t get to check out for this. I want you to remember everything,” he laughed. 

While the breaths were difficult, with your throat swelling and aching from the abuse, you greedily sucked in the putrid air. There was something off about it but soon your vision cleared and you managed to get your bearings. It only took five seconds after that for your eyes to land on the source of the smell. 

Flames grew from one side of the room, spreading out from where Paul had thrown his glass against the wall. The liquor had acted as an enabler for the flame to tear through the disorganized mess of candles, paper and cardboard. The fire spread at an alarming rate, eating up anything in its path as you slapped Paul’s chest with a renewed sense of vigor. 

“F-fire,” you wheezed, barely intelligible. 

With his length bobbing menacingly between his legs as he worked to pry open your jeans, Paul only hummed at your attempts to warn him. 

“Hm? What’s that? Let me guess, you were trying to say fuck you. Is that it?,” he jeered. 

Shaking your head wildly, you slapped at his shoulders harder as smoke began to force water from your eyes. With the fire slowly taking up chunks of the basement, it seemed the alpha was only focused on one thing. 

The broken, “N-no,”you called out was lost in another round of hacking as Paul ripped the pants clean off of your legs. 

You silently thanked every force in the universe that you had not forgotten underwear. The thought of him seeing a part of you that you had only ever felt comfortable showing one specific person was too much. He reached for the frilly fabric, dodging your legs as you kicked at him.  

“F-fucking idiot,” you gritted out. 

That halted his assault. Reaching down, Paul pinched your face in one of his hands and you winced at the fresh bruises that formed from the grip. 

“What was that slut? Any last quips before I take back what’s mine?” 

You cleared your throat, fighting against the smoke that threatened to clog your lungs to spit out a raggedy gasp of, “Fire.” 

With his hard cock in his hand as he surveyed the room, you watched as the realization dawned on him. Paul’s mouth opened and closed at the sight. The majority of the room was covered with flames. You could tell that he was awestruck at his own blindness and it angered you. This moment of weakness was due to his own sick need to dominate you, and for what? 

Using all the strength you had left to flip him over, you were sobered at the realization that this rage was not new. It had not been born out of your mate being taken from you. For years it had simmered under the surface until it finally boiled over following Joel’s abduction. The anger you felt was more than anger, it was a purely feminine wrath that had been building since you were old enough to understand the incident at the ice cream truck 20 years earlier. 

With your mouth filled with blood and your lungs burning, you snatched the knife from Paul’s belt and slammed it into his shoulder. He screamed in pain and you twisted it around before yanking it out. Obscenities poured from his mouth as you slashed at his cheeks but you ignored them. Blood splattered against your face, covering you in red as you pushed the blade into the other shoulder. Paul choked on his breaths as the blade sunk deeper, his hands trying to slap you away as you ruthlessly sawed it back and forth before pulling it from him. 

This wasn’t just about you or even Paul. It was about the omega who had been slapped that day years before. It was about your mother, the law firm partner who ruled the courts and came home to a loving husband who was morphed into an obedient housewife. It was about Jake and Cooper who, despite their apparent relatively decent bond, had been forced into their roles nonetheless. It was about the generations of people - alpha, beta, or omega - who had been made to obey someone else’s word, regardless of how they felt about it.  

You screamed out, letting years of bottled up rage explode in Paul’s face as the room around you began to collapse. He coughed, eyes unfocused and rolling in their sockets as he twitched at the blood loss. The wounds on his body spurted out short jolts of blood, turning the carpet below him crimson. 

“Please,” he begged pitifully. 

Disgust was all you felt at the state of him as you dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor near his head but he didn’t reach to grab it. You weren’t entirely sure that he was able to anyways. Standing from the floor, you sucked your teeth at him. Paul’s head was split open from the glass, cheeks slashed and bubbling with red as his cock laid pitifully against the outside of his jeans. The wounds on his neck and shoulder gaped and pulsed rivulets of blood that added to the stains on the floor. His desperate attempts to staunch the flow were mediocre at best, he was much too weak to cover the holes in his skin effectively. 

You looked down at him with tired eyes as the room burned around the both of you. The ice in Paul’s gaze melted, making him look like nothing more than a scared little boy as you glowered at him. 

“I don’t know what happened to you that made you this way, but fuck you. You will die here and I am going to keep living. Do you understand me? I am fucking done with all of this shit,” you said coolly. 

A loud crack broke through the moment and you looked up, watching as the ceiling began to concave with the flames licking at the foundation of the building. You needed to get out of here, lest you burn to death in the god forsaken chapel alongside Paul. Sparing him one last look, you shook your head at the pleading look in his eyes. 

“You. Lose. Goodbye Paul.” 

With the last word uttered, you scurried off towards the stairs. The flames roared at you from all angles, closing in as you ran as fast as your damaged body would allow. Just as you reached the bottom step, the building itself started to shift. You froze as the structure groaned. 

“Oh shit,” you swore. 

Flying up the steps, you took them two at a time until you launched yourself through the basement door. The air on the ground level was worse, with the entirety of the sanctuary cloaked in thick smoke that irritated your throat. You gagged, dropping down to your knees as you choked on the poison. Retching against the stones, sweat and tears tracked through the soot that covered your face as all of the whiskey in your stomach was purged. 

You groaned at the way your abdominal muscles ached, trying to force out vomit that didn’t exist. With nothing left to purge and no end to the endless smoke inhalation, exhaustion wormed its way into your body. The comfort of the end beckoned you, luring you in with its promise of rest but you ignored it. Crawling on all fours to get to the door as you hacked up black, you were shocked at your own will to live. 

Despite the lack of evidence, you knew you needed to get outside. There was no reasoning behind this incessant need to get to freedom. It would be easier to give up. Less painful for sure, given the state of your body. The reason for your determination was unfathomable but it pushed you the last few inches.

Fresh air shocked your system, launching you into a fit of forceful coughs that knocked you off balance. You cursed Paul as every ice covered bit of concrete jammed into your ribs on the way down. However, the embrace of the snow was welcoming as you landed in a heap at the bottom. The cold bled into your legs, soothing the burns that you didn’t even realize that you had acquired. 

A voice called to you from far away. It was deep and honeyed with a familiar southern twang. The voice beckoned you to stay with him. You smiled at his request, burrowing yourself deeper into the darkness. Joel was calling to you from the other side, you were sure of it. He sounded so desperate, sobbing as he screamed your name and pleaded. It would’ve made you cry too, had you not already begun to heed his request. 

It was funny. Before today, you had never believed in an afterlife. It was too big of a question and you refused to let it rule your life, preferring to find out when the time came like everyone else. But as Joel Miller begged desperately for you to come back to him, you comforted yourself with the belief that this was your afterlife. You would be with him forever. It didn’t matter that it was through death that the two of you would see eachother again. You would follow Joel anywhere. 

Sinking further into the black, you sighed and let yourself be carried off into the wind. 

 - Joel - 

Joel had screamed. 

The volume of it alone forced the birds from their nests in the surrounding trees. It was a desperate and strangled cry, something that he didn’t even know he was capable of until it left his mouth. 

Joel had raced down the poorly shoveled road, tearing through town after he spied the smoke blackening the air from the gate. It was only when he reached the burning chapel that he realized just how bad it was. The building looked to be on the verge of collapse, swaying as the fire tore through every bit of material holding it in place. 

Ripping himself from the car, Joel sprinted towards the door. Before he could reach the steps, he was met with the sight of you stumbling from the building in a fit of painful sounding coughs. The sight of you had comforted him for a moment, seeing you alive despite the odds stacked against you. 

Joel rushed forward as you fell back against the snow, skidding to a stop and reaching down to gather you in his arms. Your breathing was strained and he begged you to follow his breaths. A sigh was all you responded with. Joel felt it as your body stilled against him and his soul broke open. A hoarse cry reverberated in the open air, heard but nobody except himself. 

He felt like a wild animal as he tore through his mind for any medical miracles he could think of. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The act would probably not work, he knew that, but he had to try. With hot tears streaming down his face, Joel tore your sweatshirt down the middle with his bare hands. 

He started the compressions, choking on anguish as forced life back into your body. Heart pounding in his chest, Joel called for you endlessly.

“Come on baby, come back to me. It’s okay, we’ll b-be okay. Please, please, please…”

Joel felt his hands crack through your ribs and he could’ve sworn his chest ached alongside you. It hurt him to do this, to break open your ribcage in order to get to your stilled heart, but he kept going.  He tilted your head back, pinching the soft part of your nose as he blew two lungfuls of air into your mouth. 

For some reason, he had hoped that the oxygen would miraculously rouse you and he cried out when your body didn’t respond. Restarting the compressions again, more panic seared through his every nerve ending. The rest of the world faded away and it was only your lifeless body, him, and flashes of the other people in his life that he failed to save. 

You couldn’t die. Not like this, not now. It felt like the world had ended again, only this time it felt even worse. It was like one of his limbs had been chopped off. The mark on his neck burned as he pushed into your chest and Joel’s heart sputtered at the feeling. The presence you had on this earth was stored somewhere in his instincts, making him feel you everyday despite the distance but now, he felt it no longer. 

“Please darling, please, please, please! I can’t do this again, I need you. D-don’t go, you said you wouldn’t go…,” Joel sobbed. 

No response. 

Another round of breaths and he was back to cracking your ribs under his hands. He felt like he was going to puke. It was all too much. Joel needed you to live but the longer you remained still, the further away that possibility seemed to be. What was there left for him to do? Even the most avidly trained medical staff before the outbreak would have been hard pressed to bring you back. 

The realization that this was it, this was the end for you,  slowed his compressions. Tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of your lifeless body as he stopped altogether. How could this happen to him… again? What was the point of it all, if this was how it was going to end? Rage bubbled up from deep within his heart and he exploded. 

“FUCK!,” Joel roared, slamming his fist down hard against something solid yet squishy. 

Joel had aimed for the ground but missed, instead slamming his fist against your chest. He reeled back in shock, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself for disrespecting your body like that. Even in death, the thought of ever hurting you was too much to bear and he suddenly wanted to walk backwards into the burning building. However, the guilt was soon replaced with shock as you twitched. 

Eyes rolling in their sockets, Joel watched as began to fight for air as you gagged helplessly on your back. He swore, flipping you so that you faced him on your side. With him petting your knotted hair and whispering encouragement, you puked up a pitiful amount of blackened bile. 

Joel waited until you were done before he peeked into your mouth to ensure that there was nothing left to choke on. Despite the clear airway, uneasiness seeped into his chest as your body remained still. Joel moved his head down to press his ear to your chest, leaning in close to listen. After a second of readjustment, having to switch to his good ear to listen properly, he sighed as he heard the steady thump of your heart. 

A sob of relief tore from his lips. He pressed his face into your chest, kissing the spot where he heard your pulse in thanks. Tears dripped from Joel’s face, landing on your face, neck, and chest as he hovered over you. As life rattled through your body once more, he tried his best not to shatter under the weight of your near death experience. He allowed himself another moment of anguish before he swallowed it down. Gathering you up in his arms, Joel hugged you to his chest and lifted you from the ground. 

He was still crying as he walked towards the car, legs trembling as he slid into the backseat with you in his arms. For a moment Joel thought about driving off, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get far. Not with the way his hands shook, his heart pounding in his chest as he held you tighter. That was close, way too close. Your lifeless body, the way your ribs cracked from the pressure of his hands, it was all too much for him. 

The second that the door was shut behind him, Joel ripped his coat off and covered you in the bulky material as best as he could. The bruises, cuts, and burns that covered your body were a lot to take in. You had stumbled from the burning chapel in nothing but a sweatshirt and underwear. Finger shaped bruises covered your body, making a pit form in his stomach. Multiple alphas had tried to hurt you in the days since he had seen you last. He wanted to kill them all but, it seemed you had already beaten him to it. 

Looking at the marks on your thighs, dread descended over him. Joel felt absolutely helpless. He had no idea where he was, where any medical supplies were, what had happened in the chapel, or when you’d wake. Powerless to the situation, Joel rambled incoherent apologies and desperate pleas as he brushed soot from your body. 

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry. I - fuck - I should’ve been better. Should’ve protected you, been there for you. Oh my god, fuck, this is my fault. I love you. Please, please, please,” he cried. 

He didn’t even know what he was asking you for. Was it forgiveness? Joel kicked himself for letting this happen. The thought of it made him want to rip off his own skin and maybe he would’ve, had he not heard the softest whisper of his name. 

Joel snapped his gaze back up to your face and gasped. Your eyes were red rimmed and glossy, but they were open. It was one of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen. 

“Oh baby,” he cried out as he pulled you up in his lap. 

You went willingly, completely pliant as he arranged you in his lap. Joel heard you hiss as he pressed you into a tight hug and he pulled back quickly. A pinched brow from the sting of his embrace formed a lump in his throat. Settling on holding your face in his hands, Joel watched as you slowly blinked your eyes open again. 

“Ow,” you croaked. 

The noise that came from his mouth was half a laugh and half a sob of relief but he smiled through it. His throat was thick as he pushed errant hairs away, kissing every inch of your face as he fought against the emotions that overwhelmed him. There were no words for what he felt in that moment and even if there were, you were in no shape to hear them. 

The corners of your mouth quirked up when Joel finally landed a kiss on your lips and he did it again. Despite the blood and dirt that covered every inch of the both of you, the sight of your soft smile soothed every ache in his body. He knew that his headache was still there. The bruise on the back of his head was tender to the touch but at that moment, he didn’t feel it one bit. 

Your eyes were open. 

You were alive. 

Nothing else mattered. 

“M’tired,” you murmured and coughed, wincing at the effort before your eyelids drooped again. 

Joel tightened his jaw as your face burrowed itself in his neck, huffing at him until you relaxed. He could tell that you were in a great deal of pain, his instincts sensing every bit of tension in your body. He needed to fix this, to care for you. 

The problem was that Joel had no idea where he was, or where to get medical supplies in the half destroyed ghost town. Even if he could focus his mind enough to drive to the next town, there was no telling what he would find there. 

He thought about going back to where he had left the group but he quickly discarded the idea. Your friends and family were nearly an hour away, IF they were still there, and likely didn’t have much more medical experience than him. 

The cabin was too far and didn’t have half the shit you would need. And Jackson, with the time it would take for Joel to drive his injured mate there, was out of the question. That left only one option for him. 

“Baby, baby wake up,” he called. 

Joel spoke with the softest urgency he could muster, jostling you gently until you roused. Another groan accompanied the glare you flashed at him. In a different situation, he might’ve laughed at it. The exasperation on your face was painfully obvious. He didn't need to ask to know what you thought about him waking you. Are you fucking serious , was written all over your face. 

“I know, I know honey, m’real sorry. I’ll let you sleep but first, you need to tell me where the camp kept their medical stuff. Pills, bandages, water, fuck - anything,” Joel urged.

You hummed, sighing as you scrunched your face up in thought. He knew it was a lot. Asking you questions about a camp you hadn’t lived in for sometime was ridiculous. Especially after he had literally just brought you back from the dead, but he didn’t have the time to tear through half of the homes to find what he needed. There was so much blood covering you and Joel was nervous to find out how much of it was yours. If it was all you, he needed to find the wound and stitch it up fast. 

“Home, probably,” you guessed, “He kept it all at our house so nobody could get into it. If the stuff hasn’t been snatched up by raiders, it’d be there.” 

Joel nodded desperately, “And where’s that baby?”

You whined at his incessant line of questioning and he hushed you, smoothing his thumbs over your cheekbones until you settled. 

 “Shhh, I know you want to sleep but you need to tell me darling. Where’s home? What does it look like?” 

“Green house with yellow shutters. Fucking awful colors, worse than our kitchen,” you murmured. 

The comparison made him huff a laugh as you slumped against him again. As your body stilled once more, Joel couldn’t help himself. Despite the fact that you had just spoken to him, he subtly brushed two fingers up your spine until they landed on your neck. Careful not to aggravate the bruising, Joel pressed his fingers into the side of your neck so that he could feel the steady beats there. She’s just asleep , he told himself over and over again as he readied himself to leave. 

A green house with yellow shutters, he could work with that. Joel had been in too much of a rush to save you when he sped through town, but he was confident that he could find the ugly house. He needed to, so he would. The fear of what might happen if he didn’t spurred him into action. 

As carefully as he could, Joel slid out of the backseat with you still in his grasp. He could have left you laid out in the back. It probably would have been less cramped in the driver’s seat, but he refused to let you go. With what had just happened, he wasn’t sure he would be able to ever let you go again. As he slid behind the wheel, Joel decided that he was perfectly okay with carrying you around in his arms until the day he died.  

After spending an extra few seconds situating you so that you were comfortably cradled in his arms, he pulled out and drove through the quiet streets. Keeping one hand on your chest to feel the rise and fall of it, he kept his ears focused on your soft breaths. The sound of your breathing was the only thing keeping him sane. 

Joel wanted to tear someone’s face off. He wanted to rain hellfire down on any surviving alpha he could find but that wasn’t what you needed. You needed caring Joel, not the Joel that had single handedly destroyed the fireflies. He swallowed all of the things that threatened to cloud his judgment; the desire to pull away, the fury he had for Paul and the other alphas, the guilt he felt for your injured state, all of it was inconsequential.  

He pushed his own feelings away as he swerved around the corner, skidding a few inches before he managed to right the wheel. Letting out a cuss as he pumped the brakes, he held you close as the car drifted toward the poorly cleared driveway to your former home. 

You were right, the paint was awful. It was chipped in many places, yet still somehow managed to be much too bright against the snow covered landscape. Aside from the paint, the roof itself was rotted in multiple places. There was simply no way that it sufficed during the rainier months and he grimaced at the black mold he knew likely lined the inside of the walls. 

The front door flapped in the wind, making him uneasy as he gently tried to unwrap the limbs that were welded around him. He didn’t want to leave you here, but the potential dangers that could lurk inside left him with no choice. There was no way he was putting you in the line of fire again. 

Joel sighed and doubled down on his efforts but it was no use, you were like an octopus. Everytime he managed to pry off one limb, another wrapped around him and pulled him even closer. You kept your eyes closed but he knew that you were awake. With no other option, Joel pulled your head from its place in the crook of his neck. The whine you let out was pained, only deepening the guilt he felt for leaving as he hushed your cries. 

“I need to go check inside before I bring you in, baby. I’ll be right back, I swear,” he cooed. 

He cupped your cheeks, stroking them until the line between your eyebrows disappeared. 

“No,” you answered with a scratchy voice. 

“But I need t-”

A soft pinch was all you gave him in response. With all the strength in your body depleted, it was nothing more than a tug on his side but he got the hint nonetheless. Joel sighed louder at your stubbornness but relented. Although your safety was his top priority, the thought of leaving you for a second was just as painful for him. 

He bit his tongue as he lifted you from the car and trudged towards the entrance. Despite his efforts to shield your body from the wintry breeze with his jacket, goosebumps climbed up your legs and you shivered violently. Hastening his pace, Joel reached the front door and rushed inside. Frenzied from the prospect of cold seeping into your body, he knocked the door closed with his hip. The bang echoed throughout the house and he froze. 

Joel held you closer as he held his breath, straining to hear for any indication of life. He clenched his jaw painfully tight, trying to calm himself as he imagined a horde infected sprinting from a hiding place somewhere within the home. When nothing came, he could have collapsed with the relief he felt. 

With the threat gone, Joel worked quickly. Methodically sweeping through the quaint home, he raided the bathroom and storage closets for any supplies he could use. After finding the stash of supplies in the closet nearest to the master bedroom, Joel moved towards the door before he paused. 

The scents of its original occupants were mostly gone, dimmed with the time that had passed, but notes of your mother and stepfather’s unhappy union remained. He shook his head, turning on his heel to find a more comforting place for you to rest. After pulling open an office and yet another room filled with camp supplies, he finally stumbled upon your old room. 

Even if the walls hadn’t been soaked in the delicious aroma that was solely you, he could have guessed it was yours based on the decor alone. The walls were painted a bland beige but Joel noticed that you had gotten around this by covering them with pictures cut from old magazines, dried flowers, and colorful thread murals. Aside from that, there was a pile of clothes still unfolded on an armchair and pages of notes covering nearly every open surface. 

As Joel carried you towards the unmade twin bed, he prepared himself for another round against his octopus of a mate but you relaxed against the sheets. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that finally eased your half conscious mind or perhaps it was the familiarity of your old home but either way, he could finally untangle himself. Soft as ever, he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and pulled the sheets up to your chin before he tiptoed out of the room.��

Joel backtracked towards the medical supplies and tore through the boxes for everything he would need. He was impressed at the stash, yet slightly uncomfortable at the knowledge that these supplies had likely been kept from those that needed it by religious zealots. The upside was that he didn’t have to go far to find exactly what he was looking for. 

Armed with the supplies, he hurried back to your room. You were laid in the same position he had left you, yet he didn’t miss the way your body sunk deeper into the mattress at his return. Joel knelt by the bed, murmuring sweet words as he pulled the blanket back. 

The coat was open, revealing your beaten body to his eyes completely. Carefully, he peeled the sweater from your abdomen and it was hard for him not to scream at the bruises that stuck out against your ribs. Despite the damage to your ribs, he was relieved to find there was no broken skin anywhere. 

The fingerprints embedded into your thighs and throat threatened to break him but were also not in need of stitching. Given the dark bruising around your eyes and the swelling along the bridge of your nose, there was no doubt in Joel’s mind that your nose had been broken. He ghosted a finger along the swollen bump, pulling it back when your face twitched at the soft pressure. 

Joel shook his head and grabbed a cloth. After soaking the white fabric with the water, he carefully wiped the blood and grime from your body. The more that was revealed, the worst he felt. The darkened patches of bruised skin made his chest burn. You twitched when he dabbed carefully at your neck and he eased up, staying as gentle as possible while the filth was cleared from the top half of your body. 

Steeling himself, Joel moved down to your legs. He sucked in a deep breath as he moved upwards, stomach clenched as he wiped the soot off of your thighs. Despite the bruising along your hips and thighs, he was relieved to find that the damage did not reach your most vulnerable areas. The relief was bittersweet, as it was clear that although they were unsuccessful, someone had clearly tried to harm you in that way. 

Fucking Paul. 

Joel pushed the disgusting man from his thoughts. He needed to focus on you. After delicately pulling the coat from your body, he was surprised to find a bone glaring at him from your wrist. Given the reddened skin, Joel knew it had been dislocated for days. The skin around the bone was taut and his stomach roiled at the pain it had undoubtedly caused you. How the hell were you doing anything with an injury like this? 

Sighing, Joel scratched at his beard as he tried to make a game plan. He knew that the joint needed to be put back in place as soon as possible, lest the entire wrist remain damaged for the rest of your life. However, the pain that the process would involve tore at his heart strings. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to cause you any more pain. But, there was no other option. 

With shaking hands, Joel dug through the pile of goods and pulled out the morphine. He stared at the syringe for a moment, debating again before he ripped open the package and stuck the needle into the vial. The needle sucked up the clear liquid, filling the barrel slowly but surely until a small squirt of it spurted from the tip. Joel tested the plunger and he sighed when it worked. He knew that he couldn’t hold it off any longer.

“This is gonna help honey, just relax,” Joel mumbled, mostly to himself as you were fast asleep. 

You gave no sign of discomfort as the needle slid into muscle. The plunger was pressed down, administering what Joel hoped would numb the process. He waited a few minutes, letting it fully take hold of your nervous system as he continued to remove bits of debris and grime from your limbs. He knew you were ready when your head lolled to the side, with all of the aches in your body soothed by the morphine. 

With the drug clouding your senses, Joel grasped your wrist with both hands. He breathed in deeply, calming his own nerves before he expertly snapped the joint back into place. A sick crack tensed his jaw as your wrist regained its shape and he waited patiently for your response. Aside from a slight shiver, you remained oblivious. 

“That’s it baby, so brave,” Joel whispered as he wrapped the area in a makeshift splint. 

Leaning forward to kiss your face, he murmured sweet words as he pulled the sheets up around you. He stayed in his place at your bedside, kneeled against the wooden floor as you slept peacefully beside him. 

Suddenly, exhaustion pulled at Joel and he laid his head next to yours on the pillow. From this close, he felt every puff of air that left your mouth. Your even breathing was like the ocean, slowly pulling him into a meditative state. There was no possibility of him sleeping, not with a deep seated panic still lurking somewhere in his brain, but he let the obvious signs of life lull him into a false sense of security. You were right in front of him. 

After days of being without you, he had started to think that the morning he was taken would be his last time ever seeing you. With you laid in front of him alive, there was no way Joel was taking his eyes off of you for a second. 

Instead, Joel slid one of his hands into yours and focused on counting your eyelashes as you drifted in a sea of opium. He knew that there were so many things to do. There were antibiotics to be given. There was food likely stashed somewhere in this house that he needed to find for you. There were plans to be made regarding where the two of you would go. All of that needed to be addressed as soon as possible, yet Joel couldn’t bring himself to stand. 

As the day turned to night, moonlight blanketing the room and dulling the hues of purple along your face, Joel remained at your bedside. His eyes were still fixed on you well into the early hours of the morning, continuing to trace over every mark until he was satisfied that you weren’t going to stop breathing. 

- You -

Dreams bled into one another as you slumbered. They were warm, like the smell that carried you through each encounter along the way. The scent was familiar and you chased after it in your disjointed mind but it was always just out of reach. Plus, the scenery kept switching too fast. 

First, you were lying against the soft ground near the lake at home. It was summertime and when you looked over, you noticed Miriam. It took you a moment to hear what she was saying but you realized that she was trying to teach you the melody of some forgotten song. You wanted to listen, it was nearly impossible to pay attention to her with the spiciness of Joel wafting through the air. His scent was everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. 

“Hey - Did you hear what I said or are we daydreaming today?,” Miriam jested. 

Your head whipped towards her, “Uh yeah, no, for sure, I just… Do you - Do you smell that? Is that - Is Joel here?” 

Miriam laughed but it was off. 

“No, he’s not. Joel won’t be here for some time, surprisingly,” she chuckled. 

Confusion struck you and you moved to get up, only for your wrist to pang as you tried to push up off of the ground. The day shifted, a soft breeze making you shiver as you tried to understand what was happening. When you looked back, Miriam was still smiling and before you could ask her, she was gone. 

The wine that was poured into your mouth was bitter and you choked as it slid down your throat. The communion had always tasted tart but this was way off. It was like the sacred drink had been replaced with a mix of medicine. The bitter sweetness glued your tongue to the roof of your mouth. 

As the cup was ripped away, you were met with the scathing glare of your former stepfather. You wiped the wine from the corners of your mouth and Josiah rolled his eyes. He looked just as he had the last time you saw him, with half of his face hanging off from the clicker that killed him. Blood oozed from the slashes in his face, dripping directly into the glass in his hands and you gagged. 

“What did I tell you? If you would have stayed with the man I chose, maybe none of this would have happened,” Josiah sighed. 

You blinked at his words, unsure of what to say.

“Paul was a fine young man but no, no you have to go and cause all of that trouble. And for what? For love? HA!”

Josiah cackled and you watched as it creased every inch of his face. A fear struck you. If Joel was here but you couldn’t see him, perhaps your stepfather had done something. You wanted to tackle him but it felt like you were chained. As you struggled against an invisible hold, Josiah lifted the cup back up to your lips. 

“Where the fuck is he?,” you hissed into the glass. 

The dangerous tone you used only made Josiah laugh. He shook his head and placed the wine glass down before he turned towards the rest of the congregation. Looking back, a sea of semi-familiar people lined the benches but their faces were blurred. If you squinted, you could guess who some of the former camp members were but most of them remained nameless. 

Without giving you another look, Josiah began his sermon. As he preached to them, his words got more warped until you felt the ground shift beneath you. The sanctuary shook and you desperately tried to get anyone’s attention but your voice was gone. Bracing yourself for the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut as the world collapsed in on itself. 

Instead of the death you had expected, when your eyes opened once more you were sitting in between your parents on the porch swing back home. The two of them had their bodies pressed into you and a children’s book was placed in your lap. You couldn’t see either of their faces as they read aloud from the page but you could hear them. They were both giving awful renditions of the characters, using silly voices until they broke into peals of laughter. 

It was only when the breeze had brushed against your face that you smelled him again. Sandalwood and bergamot tickled your nostrils, pulling you from the memory. The scent shifted your dream and suddenly, you were a fully grown woman squashed between two other adults. 

“Mom, Papa, did you see him? Is Joel here? Where is he?,” you questioned, voice desperate as the panic rose up from your chest. 

Your mother’s face was blurred when you looked at her, just as the congregants had been. The sight of her warped features was just as terrifying as seeing her in person and you jumped back in your seat, only to be met with the solid expanse of your father. Scared at what you might find, you refused to look at him at first but fingers soon grasped your face and whipped your head around. Facing him finally, you were relieved to find that his face remained unscathed. In fact, he grinned easily at you. 

“So grown up now bubs, I hardly recognized you,” he chuckled. 

Moisture gathered along your lash line, threatening to spill over as you smiled back. A silent moment passed as you both examined one another. It had been so long since you had seen him in a dream, years probably, yet somehow you remembered every detail. 

The wind kicked up again and you looked away, scanning the neighborhood for any sign of the cranky man you loved so much. Bits of the street were clear, like the sidewalk you used to play hopscotch on and the doghouse that held the sweet pitbull next door, but the majority of it had been blurred with time. 

You wanted to get up and look for the source of the smell in the house but you had the feeling like moving wasn’t an option. It made you uneasy, to be so close to Joel without the ability to actually see him. 

As if sensing the growing fear, your father grabbed your face. He pressed his palms into your cheeks and breathed in deeply, only letting go once you did the same. You smiled at the gesture, not realizing you even remembered him doing it until you released the breath. It was just like he used to do when he was alive. 

He sighed, “My beautiful girl, it’s been so nice to see you. But he’s waiting for you, bubs. It’s time to wake up now.” 

“What?,” you asked in confusion. 

He leaned forward, brushing his lips over your forehead before he pulled back again. Your father’s eyes twinkled with a familiar mirth as he grinned at you. 

“Alright, now get out of here. I don’t want to see you again for at least another fifty years, do you understand me?,” he jokingly commanded. 

Despite your hesitation, you nodded at his request. Your father smiled widely and pressed his forehead against yours as the world shifted again. Your vision was blurred once more, making you feel slightly nauseous as you tried to hold to the man in front of you. He said something but it was muffled as you were ripped from his embrace. 

-

Opening your eyes was harder than you thought it would be. It felt like the lids had been weighed down with bricks. Nevertheless, you could hear everything around you. There was snow persistently pelting against the window and howling wind made the structure groan before it settled again. However, it was the sound of someone speaking softly in the quiet of the space that lifted the fog from your mind. 

“… Tommy was so mad. His hair was always HIS THING back in the day. Fuck, it still is. Took him ‘bout a week to figure out that it was me that put Nair in his shampoo bottle.” 

The laugh he ended the story with was forced, making your heart pang as you slowly regained feeling in your limbs. The heat of his body was close but he wasn’t holding you like he normally would. It was annoying but you were too weak to voice any complaint. 

As more and more of your senses came back, so did the pain. Joel’s hand coasted over your back, as if he sensed the deep ache that had settled there. Despite the stiffness there, you were forced to hold in a sob at the feeling of his rough hand on your body. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. You hoped desperately that it wasn’t a dream. 

No, you thought, it couldn’t be. Not when your throat was on fire. You tried to swallow but the muscles in your airway were tight. To make matters worse, the act of trying to suck in deep breaths not only aggravated your trachea but also the battered skin stretched across your ribcage. Each breath in and out was torture. 

At least with the swollen airway and crushed ribs, you could barely feel the ball of fire that encapsulated your wrist. The fact that it laid still against the sheets made no difference, pain still skittered up your arm and wrapped around your right shoulder. As the agony wrenched you from sleep, you focused on the sound of your mate’s syrupy drawl. 

“... I can’t think of what else to tell ya honey, m’real sorry. I don’t even know if me talking is doing anything but I just…”

Joel took a deep breath, his hand leaving your body to push his fingers through his undoubtedly unruly curls. The two of you were so attuned to one another that there was no need to open your eyes to know what he was doing. If you could’ve, you would have smiled at his exasperation. Contrary to Joel’s own worries about you not being able to handle his moods, the grumpiness was one of the things that made you love him in the first place. 

He sniffed and your heart dropped. 

“I don’t know if I was - fuck - if I was too late, just… Please darling. Please just open your eyes. I’m…,” Joel grunted, pausing to gather himself before he whispered, “I’m scared baby, okay? Please.”

The fear in his voice was evident, his usually even tone getting progressively shakier before it dropped off entirely at the end. With your stomach clenched at his distress, the need to soothe Joel breathed life back into your heavy limbs. The pain was brutal, but it was worth it to ease the mind of someone who had been haunted by loss for years. With sleep gluing your eyes shut, it took three tries before you managed to pry them open. 

The world was bright, so bright that it burned your retinas. The sun poured in from the windows, making your head pound as the light flooded every inch of the space. Sun spots danced in your eyes and you blinked them away, sighing as the room unfolded itself to you. 

A quiet gasp came from your mouth. The bedroom that had aided in your isolation during the most formative years, in the home you hoped never to return to, was where you found yourself. Echoes of thinly veiled threats and constant disparagement rang in your ears as your eyes wheeled around the small room. A shiver racked your body as phantom fingers pinched at the softer parts of your body and gripped at your throat. 

From the rickety bed, you saw that all of the decorations were still hung on the walls and the laundry was still stuffed in a forgotten chair. It was just as you had left it. For some reason, that made you hate being in it even more. It was like you had never left. Like finding your person, finding Joel Miller, had actually been the delusional daydream of the sad little girl that once lived in this house, but you knew that wasn’t true. Joel was yours, that part you were biologically incapable of forgetting, but you couldn’t remember why he had been absent for some time. 

The past few days were a blur. All the blood, the fighting, the adrenaline, the fear, had numbed you to reality. If you kept fighting, there was no time to think about what you were doing. The only thing you were focused on was getting Joel back, no matter the price. He was the only person you absolutely couldn’t lose. The thought of his death was too much. After struggling for years, there was no way you were going to live in a world without him. 

It was only when his teary face clouded your view that you were forced to remember. 

The cabin, Joel being taken, the blood you had spilt, Allie and Cooper, and finally, the encounter with Paul. All of it came rushing back as Joel held your face in his hands. You could barely focus on the words, still too groggy and weighed down with chilling memories to fully listen as he rambled about how worried he was. 

Joel gently caressed your face, looking down at you with so much love as he continued to speak earnestly. It was so sweet that you wanted to try for him, but the aching in your throat reminded you of how Paul’s fingers had dug into the skin. His rapid words were becoming more and more overstimulating as nausea crept up from your gut. 

“... and I knew you needed rest but shit, you’ve been out for days. I didn’t know what to do and I-I’m not a doctor and I-”

Shakily, you reached up and pressed your hand against his mouth. Joel’s eyes widened, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar before a deeper look of understanding spread out on his face. He nodded, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the bruised knuckles before he placed it back on the bed. 

He reached out, his hands swallowing your left hand in a firm grasp as his big brown eyes looked down at you hopefully. A silence fell in the room but you were okay with it, taking a moment to take in the beast of a man that you had missed so badly. At first, all you noticed was his usual features. The strong nose with the scar across the bridge of it, the plush lips, the scruff on his cheeks, the bald spot on his beard that you loved to kiss, they were exactly where you had left them. However, after a few seconds reality seeped in. 

Joel’s eyes were bloodshot and glossy as they analyzed every emotion on your face. His face was puffy, bruised in so many places that they seemed to run together. Some darkened his skin with a deep purple, while others had already started to fade into a light green. 

“How-,” you stopped to clear your swollen throat, “How long have I been asleep?” 

He sniffed again, hastily wiping at his puffy eyes before he said, “Four days.” 

Four days? At first, your mind rebelled against the idea. There was no way you could’ve been asleep for that long. However, with the stiffness in your limbs and the fog over your thoughts, four days seemed likely. Your mouth was parched, lips cracked as you smacked them together unceremoniously. That flipped a switch in Joel and you started as he jumped up suddenly. He mumbled something about water, giving you a soft kiss before he jogged out of the room. 

His heavy footfalls receded down the hall and you sighed. With Joel out of the room, the walls felt like they were closing in. The thought of being in this place had been bad enough, but with him gone it felt like a nightmare. Any bravery that had strengthened your resolve during the past few days was long gone, leaving you powerless as you awaited his return. 

You waited a few seconds until he had turned into one of the rooms and was out of earshot. The last thing you wanted was to be in this room alone. With nervousness twisting your stomach,  you mustered the strength to pull yourself up. 

Black spots dotted your eyes as you heaved yourself up. Pain erupted from your neck, shooting bolts of electricity down your spine and you hissed. Clenching your jaw, you pushed against the mattress with your right hand. More lightning bolts erupted from your shattered wrist, making you let out a groan. The splint on your wrist did little to help with the pressure as you pulled yourself up against the headboard. 

Despite the brief triumph of sitting up in bed, bile rose from the depths of your stomach and threatened to spew from your mouth. The thirst didn’t matter anymore, not with the way every muscle in your body screamed in agony. The corners of your vision were darkened and you focused hard on breathing. The room had just begun to stop spinning when Joel walked back in. 

“Okay, so I’ve got - Shit! What the hell are ya doing?!,” he exclaimed. 

You smiled weakly, knowing that this wasn’t a good look. A sickly sheen of sweat glimmered in the sun, illuminating the injuries that covered your body. Joel grimaced and marched forward, reaching to lay you back down the moment he got to the bed. 

“What? No! I’m fine Joel, cut it out,” you grumbled, swatting at his insistent hands as he tried to pull you down by the legs. 

He stopped, eyes ablaze as he sucked his teeth in annoyance. Crossing his arms over his chest, you tried not to laugh at how bitchy he looked with his knee cocked out and his eyebrow raised. Laughing at him when he was this angry would only make him more upset. Regardless of the fact that you found it amusing, you didn’t want to put him in any more distress. Slowly, you reached out for him. The weakness in your limbs still lingered, making you drop it back down to the sheets in an instant. 

“Joel,” you sighed, “I’ve been asleep for days, I need to sit up.” 

Joel looked at you for a while, mouth twisted to the side before he finally sighed and nodded. You smiled, noticing how the corner of his mouth twitched at the sight of it. He took the hand you had reached out to him, kissing the back of it as he sat down on the bed. The both of you let out quiet groans, the movement aggravating every ache that burned through your bodies.  His eyes snapped up to yours and he frowned, looking heartbroken as he passed you a glass of water.

The cup was heavier than you expected and you fumbled it immediately. You tried to lift it up to reach your lips but the hefty drop of water that landed on the bed was the last straw for the alpha. Joel swiftly snatched the glass from your shaky hands, glaring at you when you tried to protest his coddling. 

Gently, Joel tipped the glass into your mouth. Tepid water slid down your throat, soothing a bit of the scratchiness that burned so badly. Swallowing was still a harrowing task, but the drink still alleviated some of the pain. You drank a few more times, nodding to him once you were finished. 

Joel placed the glass on the bedside table before grabbing your hand once more. Thumb brushing over the skin, his eyes were full of sadness and longing. He looked like a ghost of himself, with the light in his eyes faded from looking at the state of you. A lump formed in your throat and you fought hard to swallow any tears that threatened to wet your lash line. 

You squeezed his hand, “Baby, I’m fine.” 

He looked away, shaking his head aggressively as he mumbled something to himself. Joel caught your eye once more and underneath all the injuries, you saw a man who was terrified. The corners of his nose were reddened and raw from days filled with tears. You frowned at that, chest tightening at the knowledge that Joel had been crying over you. 

“Thing is darling, you weren’t fine. I should’ve…” he paused and swallowed hard, “When you came out, you were bleeding and wheezing. And I was so happy and then you just stopped breathing.” 

You barely remembered that. All you could remember was hearing Joel call your name through the fog of the pain and smoke. Guilt seeped in from the corners of your mind, making you gasp as you remembered the willingness you had to follow him into the dark. Believing that he was already dead, you had decided to give up, and now Joel was hurt because of it. 

“Joel I-,” you stopped, unsure of what to say to him. 

What was there to say? Sacrificing yourself to save him had come naturally. It was as easy as breathing when the other option was a life without him. Of course if he died, you would let yourself go on the chapel steps. What did he expect? But you couldn’t say that, not to him, not ever. He wouldn’t have it. 

Joel closed his eyes and breathed in from his nose. The anguish he felt pinched all the lines in his forehead together and it pulled a sympathetic noise from you. His eyes snapped open at the sound of your whine, flashing with anger once more as he mashed his teeth together. 

“They took me and you just… went after me? They told me you were killing most of their guards, is that true?” he asked cooly. 

There was no point in lying, you knew Joel would see through it. 

You nodded solemnly, “They took you from me. What would you have done?” 

That shocked him. So much so that he dropped your hand on the bed and raked his fingers through his unkempt curls. The tension in the air grew as Joel tried to find a way to argue against your point. His jaw clicked from the pressure of his teeth grinding but he ignored, too focused on finding a solid argument against your point. The thought of bickering with him was so mundane that it almost made you smile but you held back in light of the circumstance. Instead, you decided to keep going. 

“Alpha, look at me,” you whined. 

It took a second for him to heed your request. Joel fought against his own instincts, looking away for as long as possible before the alpha in him took over. When his gaze finally landed on yours, Joel’s eyes softened and you weakly made grabby hands at him. 

Joel sighed at your request, his anger melting away as he scooted into your space. The lines in his face smoothed out, making him look years younger despite the growing patches of gray in his beard and curls. As always, his body was warm and you hummed at the proximity. A wave of calm rushed over you, his presence making you more level headed instantly. 

“Listen, we’re mates and they took you. I didn’t… Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t know I had that in me but I’m not sorry. Those guys fucking sucked and they took the love of my life from me, okay? There’s no regrets,” you explained. 

He winced at your words and you tried not to feel embarrassed. It was what he would have done, so why was this any different? 

“What about putting yourself in real danger by getting that close to him? What about telling Cooper not to tell me where you ran off to? It’s like you were trying to die or something,” he spat. 

The tone of his voice made you wince. It was true, you had told Cooper that, but the problem had been yours to finish. Paul coming after everyone was your mess, meaning that it was your job to clean it up. 

The pelting of the snow against the window picked up and you dropped the smile from your face. Suddenly, the sound of a fire crackling and the smell of smoke pulled you from the conversation. Blinking once, then twice, you gulped audibly as you tried to forget the feeling of hands wrapped around your throat. 

“I-I, uh-” 

Joel continued, getting more worked up as he went on, “It’s supposed to be me and you, ain’t it? Me and you, nobody else. Sacrificing yourself is not a part of the deal sweetheart, that’s betrayal.” 

You blinked, throat tightening for a whole other reason. His words stung but you understood his anger. If Joel had done what you did, you would have been pissed. However, the way he looked at you was too much. It was never your intention to hurt him. 

“I c-couldn’t have you dying for me, or anyone else. It’s just - oh fuck - Joel, it didn’t matter what he did to me. I just couldn’t let him hurt any of the people I love, can’t you see that?” you cried out. 

“HURT PEOPLE YOU LOVE?!,” Joel exploded, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HURT ME?! IF YOU DIED! THAT WOULD FUCKING KILL ME! DON’T YOU FUCKING GET THAT?!”

A soft whimper was all you gave in response as tears poured down your face. You were tired, so tired of everything and he was being so mean. Sobs racked your body. The bruises on your ribs protested, aching with each breath, but you couldn’t stop. Not with Joel sat there in silence, biting his lip as he watched you break apart in front of him. That stung. You wanted him to hold you in arms, to kiss your face and rub your hip with his thumb like he usually did, but he was completely still. 

“Joel, please,” you whispered pitifully. 

He sighed and rubbed his face. Although Joel was inches away, it felt like miles as you waited for him to touch you. Looking down at the state of your body, you suddenly felt a wave of self consciousness. He had changed you into one of your old shirts, the formerly baggy material now taut against your chest and hips, but the rest of your bruises were clear in the light of day. More tears dripped down your face, splattering against the soft cotton as you chewed on the inside of your mouth in contemplation. 

“He didn’t… I mean, he tried, but um… It’s still only you, if that’s what you are uh, worried about,” you mumbled as more tears fell onto the comforter. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see if he looked at you differently with the admission. Alphas were territorial, you knew that, so you guessed it was that he was worried about. With your eyes still shut, you heard Joel move to get up from the bed. The sound of him leaving the bedside made your heart fall to the floor and shatter. The air in the room was suddenly stifling, making you breathe in sharply as the holes that had formed over the years in your heart widened. You wanted to sink into the earth, to let the cold dirt cover you until it silenced every thought or feeling. 

As you spiraled further into misery, you were surprised to feel Joel move onto the bed behind you. His strong arms pulled you down onto your side, careful to rearrange you so that his face was inches from yours on the pillow. Despite the tears, his blurred face didn’t look angry, just sad. Joel stroked the side of your head thoughtfully before he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. With him seemingly not upset, you tried again. 

“Please, I’m sorry. I just… I love you. I couldn’t let you die and he was going to kill not just you, but others. I didn’t want to go with him, I just-”

Joel cut you off, pressing his chapped lips to yours softly. You stopped, shocked at the contact at first but quickly melting into him. He allowed it to go on for a few seconds, softly pouring his love and devotion into the kiss before he pulled back. As his lips left yours, your dampened eyes fluttered open to see that his had softened. 

“S’okay baby, don’t cry. M’not mad at ya for going with him. Well… Maybe I am a little but it’s not cus of that. You’re lucky you got out but if ya hadn’t, you know that wouldn’t have been your fault right? I woulda been madder than hell, but not at you. Never at you, darling. ”

You sniffed and nodded, scooching closer to him in search of reassurance. He welcomed your proximity, lifting one of his hands to scratch softly at the tangled strands on your head. It spooked you at first, the feeling of someone being so soft with you after days of all out war, but Joel whispered sweet words until you finally relaxed. As if on cue, his scent started to grow stronger to soothe the omega in need and it numbed the edges of the despair. 

Joel nodded back and sighed, squeezing you closer as he mumbled, “I love you, okay? That ain’t ever gonna stop but I just… You can’t sacrifice yourself like that again, okay? Ever. I don’t care whose life is on the line, you ain’t allowed. This - I can’t - fuck… You can’t just do that.” 

“I’m not allowed?,” you rolled your eyes, “Really?” 

He cocked an eyebrow as you laughed at his request. You were about to roast his attempt at direction, but karma got to you first. Instead, the laugh made your throat burn so badly that Joel had to reach over for the glass of water. After a few sips, the coughing stopped and he set it back down. With the hacking at bay, the room grew silent. 

“I wasn’t kidding,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” you answered back softly. 

Joel’s gaze was soft but there was a hint of desperation to it as he brushed his fingers over every inch of your body. It felt good, having him soften for you again. It was like seeing the skies open up with a downpour during a fierce drought. You tried to think of a compromise, anything to get him to back off but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Joel needed you to say that you would let him die, if it came to it. 

As the relationship between Joel and you had changed back in the cabin, you decided never to lie to him. There was no point, not when the man spent every waking second trying to make you happy and only ever wanted to be around you. Plus, he was a good listener, despite the fact that he forgot people’s names sometimes. However, the broken look on his face persuaded you to break the no lying streak. There was no way you were ever going to let him die for you, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Fine, no sacrificing. Scouts honor,” you agreed. 

“You were in the scouts?” he scoffed, smiling wryly at the notion. 

“In all honesty, I don’t know what the scouts are. It’s just something I’ve heard people say in books and movies. Is it something from one of those shows you’re talking about? Is that the MASH thing you’re always talking about?,” you guessed. 

It was Joel’s turn to laugh this time and it was beautiful. You didn’t even mind the way it jostled the bed, making a few of your injuries smart with the movement. He looked years younger when he laughed and you smiled at him as boisterous laughter turned to muted chuckles. Carefully, you reached over and rubbed over the mark on his neck with your thumb. 

He sighed at the feeling, “Fuck, I’m old.”

“Distinguished,” you giggled. 

Joel snorted and kissed the palm of your hand. He moved closer towards you, resting his forehead against yours as he sighed. The feeling of him being so close was intoxicating. You basked in his scent, allowing it to draw you into an almost meditative state as you looked into each other’s eyes. 

“M’not strong enough to go on without you darling. That’s not… I can’t do that again, alright? I can’t lose someone that I love again. Please, just… You can’t do that to me,” he whispered against your lips. 

You felt every syllable, both from his soft lifts brushing against yours and in the burn that settled in your chest. Joel had been through so much, all he wanted from you was to stay alive. Of course you would try, but you needed him to live too. 

“I understand Joel. Just… You can’t do it to me either, alright? I know that you’re gonna say that you’ve lived longer or something about being the alpha, but I don’t care. I couldn’t go on either baby. I wouldn’t want to,” you sighed, brushing the curls from his forehead. 

His mouth twisted up and you heard his teeth clack together from the pressure. Joel squinted at you in annoyance, a red flush forming on his cheeks as he tried to work his way out the deal. 

“Honey, I know you love me. It’s not that, I just - I’m 56 years old. I can’t just let you -”

“I’m not telling you to let me die Joel. Save me, but don’t you dare die. I don’t want you to die for me, I need you to live.”

During your time alone, you had missed life with Joel. It wasn’t just the rose he carved, or the meals he made, or the way he fucked you into the mattress, it was the mundane things. You missed the way he looked in the mornings, the way he let you hug him from behind as he cooked something on the stuff, the way he was constantly absent mindedly covering you with layers of blankets or sweaters. The life the two of you had together was short, but you needed more of it. The oasis you found in one another was a once in a lifetime thing, you felt it deep in your bones. 

“No dying for each other, just… Just living,” Joel mumbled. 

You nodded, giving him a small smile. Leaning forward, you gently kissed the side of his mouth. He sighed and pressed his nose into your neck, huffing at the skin there as you played with his hair. It hurt a little, with the area so bruised and tender, but you allowed him to scent you as he wished. Joel had clearly washed your skin the best he could as you slept, but it wasn’t enough to completely block out HIS scent. With your own alpha’s smell overtaking the sour stench that lingered before, a sense of calm filled you and opened the floodgates. 

“I don’t think I want to talk about it yet. Not all of it at least,” you whispered, scared he might ask more about the slaughter or Paul. 

He kissed the flesh below your ear, right over the indents he made with his teeth and you closed your eyes. 

“S’okay darling, whenever you’re ready.”

Joel continued kissing over the bruises delicately as you cycled through your emotions. The smile at his sweetness quickly morphed into distressed cries but he continued. Your shaky hands grasped at the back of his head as he continued his tenderness, pushing him into your skin harder until his nose was squashed. If it bothered Joel, he didn’t say anything, clearly rathering to continue brushing his lips against every inch of your neck. He circled back to your mark every now and again, almost like a reminder each time the crying got louder again. 

Grief, pain, disgust, fear, sadness, and love all brewed beneath the surface. So many conflicting emotions made your head spin as you tried to calm yourself. They were released in the quiet cries, until only the feeling of Joel’s scruffy cheeks tickling your skin remained. Although you went through the full wheelhouse of emotions, love was what you felt at him being near and your throat grew thick with it. 

“I’ve missed you so much baby,” you choked out. 

Joel pulled back, eyes shining as he pressed a longer kiss to your lips. It was still tame, the both of you too injured and traumatized for it to go anywhere, but it was passionate. You poured every ounce of love you had for him in it and in turn, he did the same. When Joel broke away, your face was flushed and he smiled at the way your lips mindlessly followed his. 

He sighed, “I’ve missed you too honey, more than you could ever know. Never stopped thinking about ya.” 

A grin split your face in two, making your cheeks burn as you snuggled into his chest. The thought of him thinking of you, in any context, immediately made you giddy. Without any prompting, Joel wrapped his arms around you and placed his chin on top of your head. Like a practiced dance, the two of you were tangled in each other in seconds. You pressed your face into the expanse of his chest, breathing in his spiciness until it was the only thing you could think of. 

While you were slowly drifting off, lulled by his presence and smell, Joel was still wide awake. You could feel him gearing up to say something, despite the fact that you were slipping back into sleep. 

“We’ve gotta get some food in ya baby, it’s been awhile since you’ve been awake. There isn’t much but some applesauce could be okay on your stomach, I don’t know if -” 

Just like you had before, you reached up and covered his mouth to cut off his rambling. Joel made an indignant noise, trying to shake you off before he settled on licking your hand. The feeling of his tongue against your palm was ticklish and you chuckled, ignoring the jolts of pain that rattled in your chest as you kept your hand in place. 

“Nice try, but you’ve literally spat in my mouth before. Pretty sure I can handle a licked hand,” you sassed, voice muffled by his chest. 

Joel shook his head at your words, his chin brushing against the crown of your head with the movement. You smiled, knowing that his face was undoubtedly twisted into his signature scowl at your wording. 

“Jesus darling, the mouth of yours is as crass as ever,” he huffed in amusement. 

The nod you answered with knocked your forehead against Joel’s chin. The force of the collision was hard and you groaned in unison, which in turn made you both chuckle. He pulled back, looking lighter than ever as he studied your face. 

“You need to eat,” Joel pressed. 

You sighed and ignored him, pressing your face against his chest to ignore him. When he tried to extradite himself from the bed, you quickly buried your fingers into his hair. A loud, almost pornographic groan left Joel’s mouth at the circles you rubbed, making him ease himself back down again. He was a sucker for scalp massages and you knew it, having been crushed by his body multiple times after rubbing his head in bed. 

Begrudgingly, Joel wrapped himself around you again and you smiled at the victory. Although he grumbled to himself, you could tell he was only half as exasperated as he let on to be. It was hard for him to act tough with your fingers working magic on the rubber band he found wrapped around his skull every day. 

“I’ll eat,” you sighed dreamily, “Just hold me some more.” 

How could he say no to that? Joel softened, pressing his nose into your hair to breathe in some of your scent as you burrowed deeper into him. The warmth of his body was intense. You had forgotten how much heat the alpha emitted and it was a relief to finally have your personal space heater back. For days, you had barely slept. When you had, it was brief and the truck didn’t hold heat long enough for it to be comfortable. Without Joel quite literally warming your bed, you weren’t sure you would ever have a good night’s sleep ever again. 

“Feel like I’ve heard that one before,” he argued but there was no bite to it. 

There couldn’t be, not when the two of you fit together so perfectly, despite everything. The bruises on both of your bodies hadn’t healed and there were definitely loads to talk about, but the feeling of Joel against you was enough for now. If he was with you, you were home. That was all you needed.  

“I love you,” you whispered. 

You waited, and almost said it again in case he hadn’t picked up on it, but all you got back from him was the start of a loud snore. Looking back up, Joel was out cold. His mouth was wide open, drool threatening to drip down the side of his face as he slumbered hard. He must’ve been awake since he found you, which would have been about four days. And who knows how well he had slept at Paul’s camp? 

The realization hit you hard as you watched him sleep. Imagining Joel awake, fearful to sleep in case something happened to you was devastating. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his throat in thanks. His face twitched at the contact, arms drawing you even closer, but he remained asleep. With Joel’s body surrounding your own, peace washed over you. There was no confusion or fear or grieving, as it had been as of late, just complete tranquility in the silence of the afternoon. 

As the day passed, you laid there and allowed him to rest while watching the shadows change on his face. Originally, you had promised yourself that you would stay alert for the sake of your slumbering mate. Knowing Joel, he probably made some promise to himself to never rest again in an insane plan to keep you safe. It was unreasonable obviously, but completely on brand. Nevertheless, as the day passed, you felt yourself drifting away as you saw the beginnings of a reddened sunset in the golden hue of his skin. 

You called out to him quietly, bidding Joel goodnight as you slipped further into sleep with his arms still holding you. The simple act of bidding him goodnight, of pressing yourself against as he slept, forced a soft smile on your face that you knew would linger well into the night. 

Joel was here.

You were with him. 

You were home.

[1ore]

question for yuri, the lastborn, and blighted trahearne—fave physical feature on each person (self & the others)?

(rubs my shitty little fly hands together)

Yuri

@ himself:

His legs, for running like hell when shit hits the fan LOL. He doesn't think about himself very much, but if you were to ask him, I think he would say something like that. There's an extra layer of significance to them, what with the Orrian diaspora living with one foot in the ocean and one on shore, not taking terra firma for granted, and being forced out of their homeland to wander abroad. Also this sentiment that the Museum of Walking impressed on me, that walking is like knowing a place, kissing the ground.

otherwise I think he might say his hair. It takes time to style and care for, so he must enjoy it on some level.

@ trahearne:

Impossible to narrow down to a single trait, and I imagine this will be a theme.

I think Yuri was arrested by Trahearne’s silently-amused/knowing eyes, after they met at Claw Island. The resting gay nod. A funny side-effect of meeting Trahearne in the middle of a crisis is that seeing him out-of-action for the first time comes as a surprise. Like, this is The Same Guy. It’s a far cry from his serious and sometimes grim Pact Marshal demeanor, but at the same time it's not really that different. (Aside: when Yuri realizes that this isn’t rare for him, he just finds himself so burdened with responsibility that he doesn’t have time to put it all aside, Yuri’s heart bweaks.)

Also his coattails and “second skin” of armor in general…….. Trahearne gets a kick out of it when Yuri sidles his hands under there, but I think Yuri gets inordinately excited. He loves ruffling his hair, his collar, the combination body hair / coat lapels that run down his chest, all of it.

Yuri also thinks Trahearne’s jawline and "beard" are so handsome. And when his pseudo-snakebites catch on his lips when they kiss. Well. That’s just what it’s all about, isn’t it

@ the lastborn:

Yuri was intimidated by the Lastborn’s attention because of a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is because he thinks the Lastborn is a beautiful person from toe to tip. Like YES he thinks Trahearne is unattainably handsome in his own way, but the Lastborn has an ethereal or fey-like quality to him that makes him truly untouchable to Yuri… Even though he’s been serving “Born on a mountain / raised in a cave / truckin’ and fuckin’ is all that I crave” since the moment they met.

If he had to point to specific areas, I think it would be his wrists, neck, and shoulders. They’re elegantly lithe but inelegantly lanky/gangly at the same time, in the way a fawn’s legs are. Also his stomach. I think the exposed area where his "coat" comes apart feels velvety soft, like the flat of an agave blade.

Yuri also gets a kick out of the Lastborn's yucca mane for concealing his body, the way clothes or armor otherwise would. Getting a flirty peek of collarbone feels special. It helps that the yucca blades are so sharp, he feels privileged when he’s allowed to be physically close with him.

Aaaaand his profile in general is handsome to Yuri, especially the broad curve of his nose and the way his eyelashes hang over his lidded eyes. He feels like the Lastborn is truly Seeing him, even when he’s just absently glancing at him.

Lastborn

@ himself:

His scar. I’m not sure how he gets it, but it’s probably from his time in the Nightmare Court. To him, it marks him as irreparably “broken” in the eyes of both the Grove and the Court—he is neither the Pale Tree’s perfect step-son, nor is he the Court’s little prophet-prince. He doesn’t belong to them anymore and he’s free to be his own dude.

@ trahearne:

🙄 You’re so vain. You probably think this post is about you. You’re so vain. (so vain.) I bet you think this post is about you, don’t you, don’t you?

Anyway. God. Where does he begin. I think the severity/sharpness of Trahearne’s features left an impression on the Lastborn, when they first met. Like, he had been fed such an idealized picture of The Firstborn ™ (good and bad.) It disarms him to realize that YES Trahearne has a presence and is handsome in his own way, but it’s a rugged handsomeness. He has nicks in his leaves and gnarled corking on his arms and his shoulders and elbows stick out at awkward angles, sometimes. This guy’s been all over, and he isn’t pristine like the Firstborn who stayed in the Grove.

This sentiment also allows him to help Trahearne, as he reconciles with the scars he got from battling Mordremoth. They give Trahearne a little bit of dysphoria, because they’re a painful reminder of his failures in Maguuma, and they're not what anyone imagines when they think of him. But the Lastborn met him so late in his life that they’re an indelible part of Trahearne's image, in his mind's eye. The Lastborn thinks of them the same way he thinks of his own scar--that they’re a visual reminder that he’s free to be his own dude now. And he also just thinks they’re hot LOL.

What else… That he’s a short twunk is endearing, sure, but I think the Lastborn genuinely loves what a solid little dude he is. In the same way that he loves how soft Yuri’s body is, it’s comforting to drape himself over someone who is physically sturdier? stronger? than him. When they start to get closer and Trahearne gets to be more physically affectionate with him, it really makes him feel held.

He’s also a little envious of his nighttime glow. The Lastborn doesn't have one, and it clearly identifies that something is "wrong" with him in the eyes of most Sylvari. But he also just thinks it suits Trahearne that he can always see him—however faintly— even when it gets dark.

@ yuri:

God. Not to be like this, but during their flight from Maguuma, I think the Lastborn saw Yuri’s warm eyes looking up at him with exhausted gratitude and felt something for the first time in years. The Lastborn is embarrassingly fixated on how warm and tender he is in general. Not just emotionally, but physically warm, soft, unarmed—no sharp edges on him, like there are on the Lastborn. He doesn’t have to restrain himself to be around other people, he can just be with them.

Also his scent LOL. Yuri is well-groomed, but I think the innate smell of his skin is novel and exciting to the Lastborn. He likes that he can smell him on his clothes or his bedding, and it doesn’t get lost the way his own scent might.

The Lastborn also has an oral fixation loves his mouth and nose, just the shape of his face in general. Again because there’s not a single hard edge on him, and because he thinks he's hot. But Also because he's charmed by how openly Yuri expresses himself, he smiles so widely and frowns so deeply. The Lastborn doesn’t have to guess what he’s thinking, it’s usually written on his face. He’s very honest in that sense.

Trahearne

@ himself:

Not sure if “favorite” is the word, but I think Trahearne has a complex relationship with the unarmored parts of his body. I think it reminds him of the vulnerability he felt, during those first hours he spent under the Tree, newly emerged. Just him and the whole wide world.

I think he also has a similar relationship with the ground as Yuri does, where keeping his feet and hands exposed keeps him in physical touch with his surroundings. He’s well-armored, but it’s a conscious choice not to close himself off completely.

@ yuri:

His hands. Sorry this is a basic answer for this audience, but I think they would have been the first point of physical contact for Trahearne. They were also the only part of Yuri’s body that was exposed (i mean, besides his face) when he was still wearing his Pact uniform. Trahearne was lucky enough to learn the rest of his body, but his hands were first.

After Yuri becomes a shambling war spirit, I think this fascination with his hands is re-awakened by the fire magic that Yuri stole from Balthazar. Trahearne would never admit it-- he knows what a fraught relationship Yuri has with Balthazar, and for a while, it’s difficult to see him as a pale shadow of the man he knew. He would also rather die than admit that, because it IS powerful magic, it feels physically good to him and to the Dragon. But still, he’s fascinated with Yuri’s control over it. It seems effortless for him to take command of something violent and unpredictable. Trahearne struggles to wrap his head around it, when he’s had to fight tooth and claw to control his own Mordy powers.

Trahearne loves all of him though, I think he takes quiet joy in giving and receiving physical affection. He's lucky that Yuri is a big guy with a lot of love to give. Getting a hug is like getting bodied, and there’s no shortage of chest or stomach real-estate to rest his head on.

@ the lastborn:

I think Trahearne shares a little bit in common with Yuri, in that he initially sees the Lastborn as someone he doesn’t know how to “be” around. But the similarities end there. For him, it’s because the Lastborn has always been framed as dangerous, strange, and other to him. His body was made for a desert far away from the Grove, with plants that arm themselves and shrink from the sun. They don’t aggressively associate with one another the way a forest understory does, so they seem to him to be unfriendly and inhospitable (if strangely beautiful.) This is very much how he feels about the Lastborn before they get to know each other, to the point that the Lastborn notices how unwilling Trahearne is to do his usual microgestures, like touching shoulders or grabbing hands, and this stings.

(The Lastborn was also created to chew on the roots of the Pale Tree with his weird little mandibles, so. that's a lot to take in.)

This changes bigtime when Trahearne starts to appreciate how much they have in common. I think he learns to love him truly, not for some austere beauty that exists “despite” his thorny exterior, but just as he is. The blighting pod exaggerated his own thorns and sharp edges, after all. They aren’t so incompatible with one another.

I think he also enjoys the Lastborn’s mane for the same reason Yuri does, and the same reason he finds Yuri undressing to be hot (removable clothes are a funnie concept to guy whose skin is also his clothes.) Tousling it, fussing with it, getting past it is a ritual. It’s always there to keep his hands busy while they gossip.

What else... Trahearne has a strong knee-jerk reaction to his scar, as well, because he initially sees the Lastborn’s face as a sole touchstone of familiarity. It reminds him that he's looking at the face of someone from the Grove, someone who is part of his family... And may or may not be strangely handsome in a way he doesn’t trust… But then the scar reveals his underlying mandibles, and the illusion is broken.

Later on, he realizes that he’s drawn to it more than he is pushed away by it, and this feeling supplants any feelings of repulsion/othering he used to have. The scar mostly reminds him of Malomedies. It seems terribly unfair that someone would do something so violent to him, and it would stay with him so permanently, but he is learning to appreciate it from the Lastborn’s perspective.

[xocasper]

I wanna—I wanna guess

Has Gerard been grooming the reader all along? Or subtly convincing her that no one her age is right for her, either on purpose or not?

SHIT DOES HE GET THE READER PREGNANT AND THEN FUCKIN DIPS

ohohoohoohohhooh i wanna knowww i love me a chance to hate someone

it's up now so you can read my thoughts, but kind of yes and also no? in my experience, grooming is more long-term. i think to some degree, it shares traits. gerard actually wanted to stay away from them in the beginning. he was pretty disgusted with himself for lusting after someone half his age. he kept his distance and watched from afar. also, the reader also liked him on their own. no manipulation tactics needed, he is just that sexy.

as for the shared traits, he does lure them in. he invites them inside and then shit hits the fan. it's not entirely his fault, considering that the reader made the first move, but he put them in the position that prompted it. there is no reason they should've been in the house alone together. no moral person would do that lmfao.

not only is there a power imbalance, but he knows that they won't say anything. they still live with their parents (who are presumably religious), and gerard could easily spill their secret. how would their parents react if they knew that the reader had slept with a married man out of wedlock? i mean, come on! pick a struggle!

the reader would absolutely take more heat than gerard. that's religious parents for ya!

i deem it not grooming, just wildly unethical. that's the whole gist though, really. aaaaand it's a one time thing so he doesn't really get a chance to trap 'em. no relationships here!

[zoeology31]

Three thoughts each on the nine Twins games since my last post-series recap:

4/7, Astros 2, Twins 3:

Offense looked rough in this game but Sonny Gray is a freaking beast, man. Career high in strikeouts, hell yeah

Correa, bud, what

God it’s nice to have someone like Kyle Farmer as a depth guy. Great way to start off the home half of the season. Also José Miranda clutch as hell to tie it up a few batters earlier, man when he can hit he really can hit!

4/8, Astros 6, Twins 9 (in person!):

Kyle Farmer is absolutely gonna be a fan favorite this year (once he recovers from, uh, later incidents at least). Walk-off one day, 3-run homer to open the scoring the next? We love to see it

Most inevitable grand slam ever btw. Stadium was dead quiet for like an inning. Ryan did super solid outside of that though

RIP Moran (homer to one of the easiest guys to strike out on the planet rn) but Duran 3 pitch strikeout save was insanely badass. His intro on the upgraded video boards slaps so hard

4/9, Astros 5, Twins 1:

Oof Mahle, I know the McCormick homer had like a .190 xBA but still he’s getting roughed up fairly consistently between spring and now

Not looking forward to getting Verlander’d by Verlander 2.0 for the next several years btw

Solano is really good actually. I think everyone doubted this signing but he’s our best hitter for average

4/10, White Sox 4, Twins 3:

Man the White Sox defense really is something else. José Abreu died left for this

RIP having the lead for like five minutes before Maeda hung a slider to Alberto

Not surprised we lost this one with the lineup we put out but we had enough chances that it’s frustrating to not get the win, especially against 4 innings of White Sox bullpen

4/11, White Sox 3, Twins 4:

I absolutely thought this was gonna be a disaster after the first four batters, but holy shit Lopez is good. 23 straight retired??? A start that would’ve been the second longest by a Twin last season, 11 games into this one??? Could we really have an ace after all this time???

Byron Buxton career homer #100 to tie it up!!! Love this guy, he’s not one of my specific personal favorites but he does so much for the team

Aaaaand that’s Duran’s first ever blown save, first time he’s ever entered with the lead and given it up, first extra-base hit allowed with a 1-run lead, and first ever homer given up at Target Field. Man you could tell he was pissed after that. Glad we pulled it out in the end, neither Lopez nor Duran deserved for us to lose that

4/12, White Sox 1, Twins 3 (in person!):

Extremely, deeply cursed game. Thankful the injuries weren’t nearly as bad as they could’ve been/as they looked at the time

White Sox defense does it again, also Jeffers has been doing pretty well so far. Guess that reworked swing is making a difference

Duran??? Buddy??? Like he still got it done but man was I glad for those insurance runs

4/13, Twins 11, Yankees 2:

Turned on the game during the replay review of Julien at 2nd and man was that a fever dream of an inning. Like. Is this allowed???

Sir, a second Michael A. Taylor home run has hit Yankee Stadium

Correa telling Sands to be ready to pitch today because they were gonna put up 10 runs is some inspirational sports movie shit like damn lol

4/14, Twins 4, Yankees 3:

Got Duran and Cortes both on my fantasy team, I’m playing both sides so I always come out on top

The Louie Varland Yankee Stadium legend continues to grow. Man it was impressive for him to lock it down after 2 homers on his first 3 pitches and turn that into a quality start

C4! C4! C4! This is what I wanted to see, man that guy can be so fucking clutch. We get at least six more years of this can you believe

4/15, Twins 1, Yankees 6:

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok then. That was weird. RIP the Yankee Stadium win streak

Ok so like. I know what everyone said. I know the issue was rosin which is legal. But I’m gonna Occam’s Razor this one: what’s more likely here, that German was cheating, or that he just happened to pitch the game of his life with noticeably more movement on his pitches, and also get repeatedly questioned by the umpires for substances on his hands?

If Mahle is our worst starter we’re honestly in a pretty good spot but also. Goddamnit Mahle. Broke the 5-inning start streak and everything

T-2 hours until the last matchup in the Death Star, ace vs. ace, here we go.

[unpopularly-opinionated]

So I bought One Piece Odyssey and played it for a few hours tonight. It’s definitely an interesting game. Surprisingly, even though I’ve completed an entire chapter, I don’t know that I’m actually far enough into it yet to say whether I definitively like it or not. It seems like every 5 minutes it’s introducing a new mechanic to me.

Speaking of constant interruptions though…I REALLY hope this gets better, and it seems like it might be, but the first like 2 hours of the game is full of CONSTANT interruptions. I get that they have to introduce mechanics and what not, but seriously it’s like you start the game, move two steps, cutscene. Back to the game, move two steps, cutscene. Okay now climb this ledge aaaaand cutscene. Hey look, let me stop your gameplay to point out something. Hey wait, let me fade to stop the game, scold you for going the wrong way, and then fade to black slowly to really emphasize that you’re not supposed to go that direction. If I hadn’t been streaming it to my friends at the time, I’d probably have quit out of frustration.

Other than that…I think the combat is neat, I suppose. I’ve never really been a fan of JRPGs tbh, but I’ve found a few tolerable over the years and this seems like one. I will say, the UI is very stylized and it’s…kind of unintelligible for a while. Maybe I’m just the dumb one, but there’s a LOT on screen all at once, and it’s kind of hard to understand what’s going on. Once you do though, it’s a very basic Rock-Paper-Scissors system, like Pokemon.

I’m not far enough to fairly criticize the story, but I will say that there is a character who is flatter than a sheet of paper and serves as little more than a plot contrivance. I’m assuming they’ll get more development later on, but the intro was kind of pants because they literally just walked on screen, pulled the biggest plot contrivance macguffin bs, and then promptly fucked off, all without ever having said a single word. You hardly even have enough time to register that they’re a bad guy until after it happens.

I know I’ve basically done nothing but shit on the game so far, but those are just my honest first thoughts. I’m still going to play through it because at the end of the day, it’s One Piece, and it’s written by Oda so I’m hopeful it’ll get better later on. Maybe, maybe not. I honestly just don’t think I’m far enough in it to give an honest opinion. I just started Chapter 2 and now it really feels like this is where the game actually starts, so we’ll see.

Random thought I just had as I was writing this because I almost wrote this in as a bad detail until I realized why they did it, but right from the beginning they literally sidelined both Franky and Brook which had me PISSED because I was seriously looking forward to playing as Brook, but then it hit me that the reason they did that is because this game has you going through the Straw Hat’s memories in order (the whole game is a glorified nostalgia trip ngl), so right now I’m in Alabasta, and back then Franky and Brook weren’t Straw Hats so it actually makes perfect sense why they’d be sidelined right now. Unfortunately that means it’s gonna be a LONG while before I get them though since Water 7 and Thriller Bark are quite a ways from Alabasta.

[wedontdeservethestars]

Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader Characters: Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Reader Additional Tags: Gender-neutral Reader, GN!READER, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drinking, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Spencer doesn't know how to handle emotions but neither do you so Summary:

You cannot stop thinking about Spencer Reid. He's everywhere you look. He's perfect from head to toe. And, when you decided to shoot your shot, he became the source of all your pain. Did you just ruin your relationship with your best friend (and crush)? ...Oops.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Home To You - Ten

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean enlisted in the hopes to help secure enough money for Sam to be able to go to college. Of course he didn’t tell Sam. Why would he? Sam would understand, right? Turns out, Sam didn’t get it, and is giving Dean the silent treatment for over a year. In Dean’s desperation to reconnect with Sam, Dean reaches out to his brother’s best friend. Little does he know that the hurricane named Y/N will turn out to be the reason he wants to stay alive and go back home for.

Chapter Warnings: Aaaaand, they’re still idiots. Contains flangst.

WC: 3569

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​ <3

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

“Hey, Y/N,” 

She wakes up to a soft voice ringing in her ear. It’s deep and gravelly, just slightly above a murmur. There’s also a feeling of something nuzzling against her temple. Hot breath fans over the side of her face, making her shiver - but in a good way.

“Wake up,” The voice whispers again, it’s smooth and soft, bathing her in warmth, making her feel less likely to want to burst the comfortable bubble she’s wrapped in so she doesn’t move. 

“Nuh-uh,” She tilts her head, trying to bury her face deeper into the pillow. 

There’s a rumbling sound from underneath her face, it resonates out of her pillow, and then it starts to shake as a chuckle sounds off of it. The sound is deep and scratchy, it makes her feel warm.

Oh.

It’s not a pillow at all, she realizes. 

It’s Dean.

God, but he’s so soft and she feels so content. He’s better than all the pillows in the world.

“You should let me get up, I hear the nurses walking around outside.” 

That’s the cue because all of a sudden, it all comes rushing back and she bolts up abruptly, knocking her head against his jaw in the process and sends him jolting back. Dean cups his face while groaning out painfully, cursing something intangible under his breath.

“Shit, Y/N, you wanna knock me out?” 

She covers her mouth with one hand, muttering apologies and honestly, just trying her best not to burst out laughing too loud as Dean rolls himself off the bed. She absolutely hates the way he takes the warmth with him, and is already feeling colder as soon as he inches away. 

He stops swearing after a while and begins to tie up his boots before standing up straight next to her bed, his hand moving to push her hair out of her face. “You’re still so hard to wake up, huh?”

The memories come back to her. Memories of her mornings at the Winchester’s house where Sam and Dean would fight about who has to wake her up because apparently, she’s a grump in the mornings. Dean always lost to Sam at rock paper scissors and it took him a while to know how best to wake her up, starting with a ten-foot pole, and soon enough, he figured that the best way was to just sit right at the bed with a mug of hot coffee in his hand. 

She’s not allowed to have coffee right now, and knowing that actually makes her grumpier. She scrunches her nose, “Yeah, well, you’d be happy to know that some things never change.” 

“I’m glad they don’t.” He grins. It’s the grin she loves. All bashful and with a slight hint of boyish charm. It makes him look a lot younger. It definitely suits him, it makes her think that he’s just a man who hasn’t seen death and isn’t trying to carry the weight of the world on his own. “Listen, I-”

Before Dean can finish his sentence, the nurse bursts in.

“Good morn-,” The woman who she has gotten to know as Carmen chirps before stalling upon seeing Dean standing there, “-ing,” The brunette nurse finishes and tilts her head down a little. A bright shade of crimson is visible on her face, her mouth curving into a shy grin. Carmen takes a moment to gather herself before she looks back up, “You’re still here,” She states and Y/N just knows that the statement is not directed at her. 

Dean smiles warmly at the nurse, “Yeah,” 

There’s something that bubbles inside of her, rising from the pit of her stomach to her chest and she doesn’t know what it is but she doesn’t really like it. Trying to push that feeling away, she forces a smile of her own.

Carmen just nods at Dean as she walks closer to the bed, probably realizing that she has a job to do. Dean moves to the window, looking out while he lets the nurse check up on her. 

“Before we bring breakfast, the doctor will be here,” the brunette informs her and she sighs. Carmen then turns to Dean, “Would you like something as well, Dean?”

Oh, so they on a first name basis? She must have looked dumbfounded and of course Dean notices because he always does. 

He clears his throat before he speaks to her before even answering Carmen’s question, which somehow makes the jealousy less obtrusive, “Yeah, I came in last night and Carmen was here,” he explains, even though he doesn’t need to. She nods and only then does he turn to the nurse still waiting for him to answer her, “I’m good, thank you. I’ll grab a coffee later.”

The brunette doesn’t seem to be fazed that he took longer to get back to her and now that he did, her face goes tomato red again. Y/N’s used to seeing that. She’s used to knowing what effect Dean has on women and apparently, he still does have that same effect. Things haven't changed at all.

Carmen walks out after doing her work and Dean comes to stand close enough so Y/N can elbow him in the ribs. 

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Duh,” She grins bravely, hiding her true feelings because it has no room here. “She’s obviously into you.”

Dean frowns before cocking an eyebrow, “You think?”

“Jesus, did you not watch the show that just happened?” She smiles teasingly. The smile doesn’t really reach her eyes but she doesn’t think Dean notices, “Maybe you should ask if she wants to go for a drink?”

He looks down to his feet, seemingly in thought. She can see his mouth working from him biting on something on the inside of his cheek. Dean licks his lips before he shakes his head to look up at her, “I’m here for you, Y/N.” His hand comes up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His words make her face warmer too, which she hopes he doesn’t notice. 

“And I didn’t tell you to.” She replies, knowing full well that she’s been unreasonable, but it’s the truth. She doesn’t want him to worry, and least of all, she doesn’t want him to think that she’s another burden to him. If anything, Dean deserves to have a slice of happiness of his own. 

“Oh, so, you want me to leave you here and go on a date with Carmen?” He raises his voice a little, which stuns her. Dean normally never raises his voice at her, only when they’re bickering but then they know that neither of them really mean it. 

“I’m just saying-”

“What?” He cuts in, more agitated now, “That I will abandon people I love to go on a date with a girl in the short time I get to be with you?”

His words hit her a little too hard and she’s momentarily speechless while her heart is beating a little faster. The pain in her head comes back and she has to squint her eyes as she lifts her hand to her temple. Dean’s quick to rush the two steps forward and laying his hand on hers, “You okay? God, that’s a dumb question, of course you’re not.” 

“You love me?” She asks, because those were the words that stuck. 

Dean’s jaw drops a little and he licks his lips, the pink in his ears showing, which she thinks is absolutely adorable. He always gets the most color there. “Yeah, of course. You’re family, Y/N.”

Yeah, she’s family, just like he is hers. They will never be more than that. The thought just about shatters her heart. 

Before she can dwell on the disappointment that is spreading and clearly taking heavy roots in her guts. She doesn't even realize that Dean has his forehead leaned on her temple until he jumps apart from her when there’s a knock at the door. 

“I’m sorry,” Carmen says and smiles shyly at both of them as she walks in with a fresh jug of water, “The doctor will be here in about five minutes,” 

“Okay,” She nods at the nurse and looks at Dean to direct the next question to him, “When will Sam be here?” 

“He told me he’s going to pop in before his first lecture at 9 AM,” Dean flips his wrist to look at the watch. He’s still wearing the same one, the one she and Sam got him for his twenty-first birthday. The thought of him holding on to simple gifts makes her smile. “He should be here any minute.”

“Right,” 

“Just ring me should you need anything, okay?” Carmen says, already halfway out of the door. 

“We will,” Dean replies for both of them and she keeps on looking at him, glaring even. He sighs before he rolls his eyes. Looking back at her after his eye roll, he lifts his eyebrows and she just jerks her head in the direction of the door and grins, although she doesn’t feel like grinning at all at this moment. He sighs again before he speaks, “Actually, Carmen,” 

Y/N watches as the nurse turns around, and when Carmen speaks, she sounds hopeful. “Yeah?” The woman’s lips curl up into a bright smile while her eyebrows climb up her forehead in anticipation.

“Um-,” Dean half mumbles and sends Y/N a last look. She doesn’t falter, at least she hopes her grin doesn’t falter, but the corner of her lips starts to twitch uncomfortably from the strain so she stops grinning but winks at him instead, her way of telling him to go forward. He frowns at first but then his whole demeanor changes, his eyes a little cold towards her. Not that she can dwell on them too much because Dean turns away from her to look at the brunette instead, “Let me walk you out,” 

She watches him sending her another look. She’d like to say one that is less cold but actually, it turns icy before he turns his back on her, following Carmen out. It honestly makes her feel crushed but she guesses that she brought it upon herself.

Not allowed to get out of bed, there’s nothing else to do for her other than staying behind, and to pass the time she looks out of the window while worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Of course, she doesn’t want to share Dean with another girl, but what can she really do about it? He said it himself. She’s family. There’s no way Dean sees her the way she sees him and who is she if she doesn’t want him to be happy? 

“Hey you,” Sam sticks his head through the door, wearing his dimpled smile as he strides in afterward to walk to the bed. He wraps her up into a bone-crushing embrace. She takes the time to breathe him in. “How are you holding up? Jess will come later, she has a meeting with her professor.” 

“Of course, I forgot that life is still going on even if I’m not a part of it.”

“I’m sorry to say this, Y/N,” Sam sits down on the empty chair next to her bed, “But I think you have to sit this semester out. There’s no way I will let you worry your head.” 

She has to grin at that. “That’s okay, I don’t even know if I want to continue, Sam.”

“What do you mean?”

She stares at her hands that she has folded in her lap, “I came here to be your cheerleader, remember? I don’t need to study, I don’t think I even need to work for the rest of my life.” 

It’s not a lie. Her parent’s house is hers, they have left enough money for her to be comfortable, and last but not least, there was the insurance money and from the lawsuit her uncle started in order to get the maximum out of her tragedy after her parents passed away. She has enough money and if she keeps on living as she does, it will last her a long time. Long enough for her to figure out what she really wants out of life and a little beyond, probably.

“You’re awfully bad at sitting still, though.” He chuckles, which again, is true. Sam lays his hand on top of hers. They’re incredibly large, her hands looking ridiculous in comparison.

“I don’t know…” She starts, “I just might go back home, would that be okay?” 

“Why?”

“I hate it here.” It blurts out of her and to her surprise, it feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

“Wow, tell me what you really think, why don’t you?” Sam’s full-on laughing, but when it dies down and he looks at her, he sees that she’s not joking. “You know I can’t leave until I graduate, right? I’m still stuck here and maybe, just maybe, if I study hard then I can get out sooner.” 

“Sam,” He lays her hand on top of his, “I’m not telling you so that you will come back with me. Your place is here, at least for the time being and until you get your degree. And I’m not even saying that I’m leaving tomorrow. Right now, I just want to take one day at a time.”

“First of all,” the younger Winchester smirks, “How dare you think that I would want you to be all on your own. And second?” He smiles now, “One day at a time sounds about right to me. We’ll be okay, Y/N. I promise.”

She nods. Somehow she really wants to believe that they will be. 

Dean slips in before the doctor. He pauses at the door and takes a look at his brother and Y/N.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice. 

“Where were you?” Sam asks, skillfully dodging Dean’s question and she doesn’t know if it’s the residue of animosity still resting inside his bones that he doesn’t want to tell Dean everything that worries him yet. 

His brother seems to sense Sam’s reluctance not to answer, of course Dean does. Nothing really gets past him, but she’s glad that he doesn’t pry. Dean never does when it comes to Sam, knowing that his brother will talk when he wants to. 

“Did you get her number?” Y/N jumps in before Dean can even start to open his mouth to answer Sam’s question.

Dean groans out audibly before he sits on another empty chair that’s propped against the wall on the opposite side of her bed. He’s too far away, and somehow she wishes that he was closer like last night. 

“Yeah,” He answers her question but it doesn’t sound like he’s super happy about it, “Are you happy now?”

No, is what she thinks. “Yes,” is what she says and surprises herself by being able to curve her lips up into a small smile. 

“You what?” Sam’s nose scrunches a little in irritation. “You asked some girl for their number? Here? While Y/N’s waiting for surgery?”

Dean doesn’t answer. He’s taking Sam’s anger with a squared chest and his chin held high, and she sees that he’s zoning out. She’s seen that posture before, whenever his dad took the anger out on Dean instead of on them even though it wasn’t Dean’s fault. 

Instead of answering, Dean just looks at Y/N and his eyes change, giving in to blankness.

“Sam, it’s nothing.” She says, trying to calm the younger Winchester down. “I told him to.” She explains.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Dean mutters under his breath but it wasn’t said with any malice. He leans his head against the wall and sighs heavily and she can’t help but think that he looks exhausted. She wonders if he did get any sleep at all.

She worries her lips, hoping that it isn’t her that keeps him awake, it’s the last thing she wants to do after he makes the journey back to be here for her. Before she can ask or even apologize the doctor who’s been examining her the whole of yesterday comes in to greet them.

His gaze flickers to Dean whom he obviously hasn’t seen yesterday. “And you are?” 

Dean stands up, making himself straighter, puffing his chest out a little, and holds his hand out for the doctor to shake, “Dean Winchester, sir.” 

“Ah, you must be Sam’s brother.” 

“That, I am.” 

“So, I guess the whole family is here now, right?” The doctor’s gaze flickers around the room and she nods. 

He begins to explain his findings and what’s going to happen.

Somehow, though, her brain turns off. She hears everything but she doesn’t let it get under her skin. She heard how he said that there are multiple aneurysms. There’s someone muttering in the back too, saying “Shit!”. Her brain doesn’t register who it was, her guess is on Dean, though. She heard how the doctor said that the chances that anything happening is slim but it’s there but that if they don’t operate, she doesn’t have a chance of surviving once they burst. It’s like a ticking bomb in her head, ready to go off at any time. She tunes the rest out, staring holes into the air. Suddenly, her feet under the thin hospital blanket are so much more interesting to look at. 

“I’ll see you in surgery at 2 PM,” The doctor nods at her.

Y/N can’t answer, waits for the weight of the knowledge to settle down.

“I can’t eat anything, right?” She looks at both men who are left in her room. Maybe it’s the shock sitting inside her but she feels very hungry and it’s the only thing she can think about, which again, is absolutely weird.

“I’m sorry,” Dean answers the question and steps closer, leaning his hands on the mattress and nuzzles his forehead against her temple. She doesn’t really know what he’s sorry for, but Dean answers the question in her thoughts for her, “About everything, you don’t deserve this.” 

Her hand comes up to cup his cheek, fingers rubbing over his scruff, “It’s not your fault.”

“Well, it isn’t yours either.”

She nods in understanding and Dean places a chaste kiss on her temple. They were both a little lost in the moment when she’s brought back to reality by Sam’s sniffing. 

God, Sam. It’s harder on him than on her. 

Dean seems to know too, steps aside to make room for Sam. The younger brother doesn’t hesitate, his hand finding the back of her neck to guide her towards him. He kisses her cheek, lingers there longer than needed but it’s necessary.

“I’ll be back after lunch, okay?” 

“You don’t have to,”

“Oh, believe me, I do.” Sam sniffs again before taking a step back and she does her best to ignore the tears in his eyes. She can’t look at them, knowing that she would break down instantly.

“You should take Dean with you, get him cleaned up at my apartment.” She suggests.

“Why, you wanna get rid of me, Y/N?” Dean’s voice is teasing, trying to ease the air filled with uncertainty. 

“Ya, you stink, man.” Sam grabs his brother’s shoulder and she doesn’t know if it’s the first time they touched since what seems like forever, but from the way Dean tenses up, she guesses that it is. He recovers quickly, though, the tenseness giving way to softness. 

Dean just cocks one eyebrow, eyes flicking to her as if to ask if that’s true. The tip of his ear showed a soft pink shade. She grins and he shakes his head. He doesn’t or maybe she’s biased. She likes how he smelled last night. Pine and musk and something that’s just Dean. Something a home is made out of.

“Come on,” Sam shoulders past Dean, waits at the door because Dean hesitates. “She’s in good hands.” Sam reminds his brother.

“You really want me gone?” Dean turns to her, crossing his arms over his chest and she tries not to look at how the material of his shirt stretches awfully tight over his shoulders and arms. 

“You should go get breakfast. You can take a shower, even take a nap in bed if you want. Mi casa es su casa.” She smiles, “Sam has a key, fresh towels are in the bathroom. The shower is warm and has great water pressure.” 

“K,” He nods, his eyes light up a little at the prospect of a warm shower. Guess there are not many of those out in the desert. He bends down, kisses the crown of her head and moves to rest his forehead on hers, “I’ll be right back, yeah?”

She bites on her bottom lip, he’s so close and all she actually wants to do right now is to move forward and kiss him. It would be so easy. She’s been thinking about his lips a ridiculous amount of time. Wonders if they feel as good as they look. Y/N knows that she can't, that's why all she says is “Okay, I’ll be here.” And laughs lamely. 

“Behave,” He chuckles, pressing another kiss to her temple before he bends down to retrieve his bag from the floor. 

Eleven

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

[lananiscorner]

The Sandman rewatch - episode 5

So I like to do this thing where, if I didn’t consider a show a complete waste of time and if it does have an actual arc spanning the season, I watch the season twice–once as a binge watch and then once more episode by episode, because it helps me notice things I didn’t notice at first, especially in cases like this where I’m almost entirely unfamiliar with the source material.

Anyway, any and all chronological thoughts and ramblings about episode 5 of The Sandman beneath the cut, because spoilers.

Alright, so full disclosure: this was the episode where I nearly dropped the show. Not because of the gore or anything like that, but because I… literally did not care about any of the people in that diner and I was bored out of my mind within 15 minutes. Hopefully the rewatch won’t be as much of a slog.

Imagine having to yell at the literal personification of dreaming to wake up lol. Poor Matthew.

Lucky Lindy getting out of there before shit hits the fan. Good for her.

Ooh, early Rose cameo!

Judy knows what’s up and she’s having none of this romance setup BS. Good for her.

I will say one thing, the music in this show is very good. It really helps build up the tension.

“The trouble with stories is, if you keep them going long enough, they all end in death.” John here really foreshadowing the end of his shenanigans, huh?

Okay, so the CEO and her trophy husband are starting to grow on me. Both of them have the uncanny valley effect of being forced to tell the truth down to a T.

Bette here seriously being like “oh hey, little fish applying for the entry level job, why don’t you talk to THE FREAKING CEO, she’s my friend ^____^” Some people have no awareness. Ma’am, this isn’t the 80s. The “pound the pavement and show some gumption” approach is NOT how hiring is done these days.

Well Marsh and Bette’s relationship just took a turn. x___x How long has he been dating her 21-year-old kid? Hopefully no more than 3 years. X_X

Also, I just realize, what’s wrong with time in this episode? The CEO came in for lunch, but it looks like it’s the middle of the night outside? I mean, I get that there’s a thunderstorm, but still.

Kate with the deep cuts about her husband lol.

Aaaaand we’re at the part where the episode becomes an orgy. It all goes downhill from here.

The broadcast about the pandas in the background is an amazing detail though. XD

Considering the broadcast that follows about plane crashes etc, you gotta wonder just how many people John got killed that day/night.

Oh look, the three fates are back! Now the episode’s getting interesting.

Huh, so the fates were telling him the truth, just not in chronological order.

You’d think that after 100 years the last place Dream would ever want to be in again—even in a dream—is that fucking mansion.

Not gonna lie, one hell of a nightmare for John though.

John with the big epic speech about how Dream must feel in defeat and his only reply is “you’re hurting the dreamers”. Dream may be an asocial prick sometimes, but you can tell that, at the core of his being, he cares.

“It came to you through no fault of your own.” Um, pretty sure he stole it from his mom?

Oh Desire, you two-faced snake… I suppose it would be fruitless to hope that they will face some proper consequences for all the trouble they are later revealed to have caused?

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[tsuki-sennin]

Okay! I'm mentally prepared! Kamen Rider Revice, Episode 33! The Gay One (TM)

Will I be chanting in jubilation or face overwhelming despair? Only God knows the answer. Are we ready to die?

-Picking up right where we left off, where Ikki whiffs his Rider Kick to avoid hitting Sakura.

-Sakura's been carrying this whole show, I stg man.

-This is like the gayest shit in the universe, I love it.

-Oh! Dr. Akemi's still alive! That's great! ...has she really been here alone this whole time? I mean, I know Akaishi's super secretive so he probably locked his office up like a bank vault, but I figured George would've checked in here.

-Goddamn! You got moves, girl!

-Oh Jesus Christ he's bullet proof.

-Ohhhhh, there he is! Vail in full form!

-"Damn, oxygen is tasty."

-"Epic, here's some drugs!"

-Man.

-Ahhhh, Aguilera in the aquarium.

-"Dude, Mrs. Igarashi made me clean out the washing machine filter the other day, and when I did a good job she said I was helpful :D"

-Help your sister, Vice!

-In the deepest darkness of the mind of Sakura Igarashi... there is Lovekov.

-Teen angst.

-I see Lovekov decorates in Pinkie Pie Modern. Classy.

-She speaks! :O

-"Beat it, bitch boy!"

-Wait, wait!

-"Fuck rank, it's Justice Time."

-This truly has been a Dai-chan moment.

-Damn, she ain't doing enough for an embodiment of her own weakness. Goddamn.

-Oooooooooooooooooooogh, that looks horrible! Ow!

-Wow... Aguilera's truly alone.

-"FBI OPEN UP!"

-Given all the awful shit Akaishi does, I'm not sure I wanna know what he did to make her catatonic like that.

-Punch his ass out, Dai-chan!

-"Finally, Sakura Igarashi... with our legendary final duel, I will find the ultimate fulfillment. Either I fall in battle at the hands of the woman I admire, or I truly become strong by taking her life. Only between you and I, in this perfect aquarium backdrop, soon, I shall-"

-"Fuck that, you wanna just hang out?"

-"Ehhh?"

-THE EMPHASIS

-Bestie Montage~!

-VAIL APPEARS

-Dad Demon!

-"Dude, my sister's on a date! Get outta here!"

-Omg he trusts Tamaki-kun :sob:

-Daaaaamn, even without transforming, Vail's pretty tough!

-Oh god, he can just add things onto himself!

-That's pretty neat!

-Hell yeah, throwbacks to earlier in the season!

-Ooooooh, even a Remix!

-"Oh God, he really is evil!"

-Sooooo, Dai-chan, did you not bring your TwoSiDriver?

-Fu-Rin-Ka-Zan!

-Hell yeah, beat his ass!

-Man didn't even have a scratch on him!

-Ice Cweam :3

-This truly was... a grand day out.

-Oh no... here it comes :(

-The duel is arriving.

-This poor girl truly sees no other option. Perhaps the duel of a lifetime is exactly what we need.

-Going my way~! Kamen Rider J-J-Jeanne~!

-I guess even you get the gravity of this situation, Hikaru-kun.

-Here comes the fan!

-Oh hi, George!

-Karate Girl's got a new present~!

-Shoebill Hibiki!

-Ohhhhhh, that's a cool-ass scythe.

-Aaaaand, there it is. The I love you.

-Even if she needs Gifu's own power.

-She's free now. A contract rendered null and void.

-Do you think that George made it a scythe to help sell the sense of death and rebirth? If so, that's pretty damn cool.

-"You're welcome, by the way."

-You've got a whole Sakura available... Hana-chan :)

-Yeah that's it, let it out.

-Bathtime!

-Ducks~!

-Love, love love, love~!

-LET'S GO LESBIANS LET'S GOOOO

-Hana Natsuki! Welcome to the Weekend~!

-Ladies, you have well and truly won this wonderful Sunday morning.

-And there it is! Our next stamp on the 0 filled out in short order. Wonder what else we're seeing?

-Oh shoot, Dai-chan focus! :O

-Next episode. We're going straight to hell.

[artymcart]

WHY I WASN'T ACTIVE ON TUMBLR AND WHY I STAY AWAY FROM SOCIAL MEDIA ATM

Heeeeey long time no see!

I got some messages from folks, asking me if I'm okay and unfortunately,no.

See, a few weeks ago, a small group of people here on Tumblr showed interest in my AU. The accounts weren't actively used but not new so I thought nothing about it. I talked with a few of them and everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

A few days later these people started to harass me. They wanted a lot of stuff changed in my AU, they disliked a lot of stuff. I told them that if they want my content, they can leave anytime.

Aaaaand then shit hit the fan. They kept writing me every day. Every. Day.

"Hey we found a plot hole in your AU"

"Eileen and Sam don't fit together"

"Cas would never wear a beard"

Again, I told them, they are open to leave and to not look at my content. I blocked every single account and reported them to tumblr. Hundreds of messages deleted because I was absolutely overwhelmed.

I thought it's over until my DMs on Insta started to explode. Again, complains about my AU but now with personal stuff too.

"No one wants to see your art"

"God you're ugly"

"Learn english you Kraut"

"You even look Autistic but not in the good way"

And so on. Giving you just the best of 🙃

This is going on for weeks now. I wake up and delete 10/20 messages day with nothing but hate against me.

I delete them and leave. Just leave.

I'm absolutely scared to post something or to show you WIP or talk and ramble about the stuff I love because I feel like every step gets judged.

Lol feels like school all over again 🙃🔫

So, I'm sorry if I haven't answered your messages or never answered you, I don't open my inbox and I don't look at the chat. I know what's there and I only can get it in small doses.

Thank you for everyone who's staying, even if my blog is kinda deserted.

I'm just tired.

Jani/Arty

[wildechild17]

911 reactions P2

Okay 911 and 118 how are you gonna rip my heart out tonight?

Shit, here we go. Copter’s going into a tailspin. Aaaaand crash!

WAIT WHY WERE YOU GUYS STANDING UNDER THE COPTER?!

Eddie casually turning off the copt—OH MY GOD EDDIE

Danny self-diagnosing, I don’t know him, but I love his character already.

God this entire scene is killing me, good god—cap is going for the bloody heart, bc of course he is. Bobby… BOBBY! DEATH DEFYING IDIOTIC STUNTS ARE BUCK’S THING! So… like father, like son?

I love Michael, seriously. And David. Wait, Harry, where’d you get that cash? Rude! When are we gonna get a season on Harry’s development, like May? Is this gonna be the season?

LOU’S ALIVE! LOU IS A L I V E!!!

I swear with all these comments on the world ending, that song is gonna be in my head. And Lou sure as hell better wake up, he’s one of my favorites.

Jeffery Hudson is not in his cell… time to go postal.

Really? When the lights go down in the city?

God I love Chim and Hen’s relationship and who gave Buck another clipboard! Oh, Chim pulling out the uncle card, I love this!

Chris! Chris here and—so is Ana. Whyy—wait, here’s Buck with Chris. Ravi being so adorable, is he gonna be—OH MY GOD IS THAT GONNA. OH MY—oh MY FUCKING GOD I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS SCENE PLEASE STOP MY HEART—

Buck looking so confused and heartbroken I can’t—

Let the SWAT team descend. Oh, and the lawyer’s dead, big shocker.

Ooh here we go, we headed to the zoo, now. “He’s got the place memorized” I can’t, Eddie—

Really? Welcome to The Jungle?

Buck is on animal control, I love this. But he’s here all the time, he knows about them—was he really about to hit the camel like it was some sort of baseball? Really?

An alpaca? I—Well, Hen has a point. Any animal is peaceful until provoked, she’s right. I love how they’re highkey scared of them.

Clever Girl—now is not the time for Jurassic World references. AND OF COURSE THERE’S A DINO ON TOP OF THE ENTRANCE.

Oh god we’re 30 minutes in, nothing’s happened to harry yet and this episode may or may not end on another cliffhanger I’M NOT READY.

Who is this kid? A dodger’s fan? OH no, I’m not ready. May? May, what are you planning? Oh, hell yes, May being a smart queen and a neighborhood coming together I love this show!!!

My heart, I’m crying. I’M SOBBING.

Oh, here we go, Buck and Eddie moment. *grabs popcorn*

“I think it’s Ana” HERE WE GO. LET’S GO.

I HATE THE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH THIS SHOW GIVES ME

Maddie! Are we gonna get more of her this episode? Yes, Chim, talk to your bestie about this.

WAIT NO, MADDIE—

We’ve got 15 minutes left and still no Harry angst, yep definitely a cliffhanger.

Wait, where’s my Josh content this episode, I want Josh. Josh being a friend. Josh being a supervisor or whatever. And where has Sue been? And ALBERT?!

Why do I get a bad feeling about Maddie’s storyline? Idk why, but I do.

I love Bobby and Athena’s relationship. I really do.

“Don’t shoot him in the leg”/”I’m gonna aim higher and empty the clip” Hell yes ‘thena, you do that.

Lou’s awake! Huzzah! God, this scene is hurting me too, how???

HUDSON GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HARRY RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

4 mins left, WHY THE FUCK ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER

BOBBY GO GO GO GO.

*scream* S C R E A M

WHERE’S MIKE AND DAVE?! AH FUCK. WHERE’S HARRY?!

MOTHER FUCKER. FUCK YOU FOX FOR THESE CLIFFHANGERS!

[unholyplumpprincess]

Long Distance Blues

Commission for someone who does not want to be tagged.

Summary: Reader/Mirage with Mirage out in the games and becoming champion and getting a nude as a ‘congrats’ and ending with video chat sex. Cause that’s long distance babey. First part to my other fic ‘Sleepyhead’.

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog but makes my day :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Reader/Mirage

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, PWP, Reader is gender neutral but has a vulva, mutual masturbation, sexting, video sex, long distance relationship, aaaaand toy usage!

Words: 2.3k

_______________

The Apex Games made it hard for someone like you, who was in a relationship with one of the infamous legends, to be able to really have alone time anytime soon with them. Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt was the apple of your eye, and many others who were fans. He was beautiful in the arena and in interviews, cocky and full of smiles and dimples and all over was a nice person to watch and interact with. He had his insecurities, he had his faults, and yet still smiled every day.

Yet, on days like this, you miss him more and more.

The season had started about a month or so ago, and he wouldn’t be coming back to you for another day or two, depending on how long they keep them for a meeting to schedule the next season and new rules. You severely missed waking up to him in the morning to find him cooking breakfast, or seeing him pull the blanket higher when you gently tried to shake him awake.

You missed the little things already like pushing his curls back from his face and kissing his forehead, or him blushing and laughing at you when you called him cute.

~Rest under the cut~

You sigh on the couch, fresh out of your shower and rolled onto your side. Your TV shows the live streams of the Apex games while you tune out the announcers. That is, until they’re beginning to announce the legends coming into the battle.

Mirage’s team consists of Bangalore and Wraith, and you already know he’s going to be acting a fool with the two love birds.  

He’s as big of a show off for the cameras as ever on the drop ship, winking before snapping his goggles into place and posing dramatically as Wraith shoves him playfully and Anita rolls her eyes big and hard dramatically. They all make a killer squad, that much you know. All of them together were deadly, but with all their skills combined?

You smile at the screen when the camera pans back to him and he blows a kiss at the camera before making a heart with his fingers and jumping off the ship with Bangalore and Wraith in tow. You sigh a bit like a newly in love teen, snuggling deeper into your pillows and hugging the hoodie around you. It was one of his, warm and soft with the Apex logo on the back.

The games aren’t really your thing. You just don’t get excited about the blood and warfare they commit against each other. You’re much more into it for the banter when the cameras can pick up the audio or tap into the comms that they all have. Of course, you watch it to support your partner as well, but honestly it’s quite funny to hear them all during the beginning portions of the matches. Or towards the middle where they’re all trying to find each other.

Down to ten squads and it changes camera focus a few times to how the teams are so split off in different areas. With the ring approaching, it makes for a smaller field, smushing them closer together. The camera pans to your partner’s squad, the squad kill count being ‘five’ on the screen as voices are picked up. “Yeah but can you really blame me?” Comes your partner’s voice, zooming in closer to him leaning back against a wall as Bangalore leans around the corner to check for any movement.

“When it comes to jokes,” Comes Wraith’s voice on the other end, the camera watching her lying prone on the rooftop and eye focused on her scope. “You really are terrible with them. Get better material.” Her lips quirking up as she finishes her playful statement.

The camera flicks back to Elliott, who holds a hand dramatically over his heart and points up at the ceiling with his gun approximately where she’s at. “Hey! Take that back! I’m funny- Bangalore?”

Only for him to get a look from the woman and a one shouldered shrug. “On a stage full of clowns you’d look right at home.”

“Yeah!” Elliott chimes in as they begin to move, only to pause, a funny look on his face as he processes her insult. “Hey!!!”

You smile big at the screen as it flips to the next set of legends. Leave it to your Elliott to be the crowd favorite in tense times like this.

--

They end up winning as champions. Anita takes the kill count to the highest of six people in grand total, Elliott comes close with five, but Wraith takes last with three kills under her belt but more hits and accuracy. All three of them look proud, with Elliott’s arms around his favorite ladies and beaming brightly before the broadcast is cut out and the next channel pulls up. You immediately turn off the TV, grabbing your phone to text him.

You debate on just letting him know he did a good job and what you found were highlights, but your texts from this morning catch your eye. Elliott mentioning how horny he was and how he missed you. You bite your bottom lip as you consider your options.

Tell him he did a good job and you’re going to bed, ooooor reward him with a job well done?

A sly smile catches your lips as you immediately begin to pose, lying out on the couch and catching the bottom of the hoodie between your teeth as you bring it up. Showing off your chest as you grab one of your breasts and pose the camera so it can view your body from lips down to about your knees. Showing off soft curves and the softness around your middle, your little short pajama shorts hiding everything else.

You send it with the caption ‘Good job out there, baby! Want a sneak peek before you come home? <3’

He must still be out at the ceremony because when he does check his phone, the message pops up as ‘read!’ but then nothing else. You laugh as you try to picture his face, startled and open as he scrambles to shut the message.

You take the time to take a few more with varying poses and angles, always making sure to make it blatantly obvious you were in his hoodie. Ending up migrating to the bedroom so you could get comfier on your shared bed- and take pictures using the mirrors spanning the closet doors.

You take one you’re really proud of. Stripping out of your shorts and underwear, dragging the hoodie’s bottom down to between your thighs as you sit on your knees and splay out your bare legs. You bite your bottom lip, peeking up and at the mirror as you take the picture.

As you hit send is when the rest start reading as read. He replies back to you, saying that he just made it to his room, lots of him going ‘holy shit’ and then soon enough, you got a picture back.

It’s of him, lying on his bed with a hand pulling his sweatpants down to show the dark curls between his thighs and a tent in his pants. He captions it ‘Look how hard you’ve gotten me’ with a crying emoji and you can’t help laughing a bit but eyeing him up.

He looked so good with the warm light of the lamp illuminating his warm flesh. His shirt is pulled up just enough to show off his mid-riff and you can see the bit of a wet spot on the front of his pants juuuuust enough. He was always so sensitive, seemed to be even now without your touch he was already so willing and wanting.

After a few more heated exchanges is when you finally turn on your computer and pull up the video chat. Calling him and watching him immediately pick up on his own laptop. Elliott’s curls are a mess, his sweatpants are tugged down to mid-thigh and his hand is around his cock as he strokes languidly. Watching your eyes follow his hand as he laughs softly, “Hey there yourself.”

You, who was lying on your side, lower half off camera but one arm disappeared below the screen to show you were obviously touching yourself. You hum instead at him, smiling idly and bringing your hand up to make a show of licking your fingers off just to hear him hiss.

“Fuck- babe. Look at you. Come on, spread your legs, let me see.” He all but whines at you and you almost raise a brow. Taking control? That wasn’t normally his way of things. But, Elliott was also riding the high of being champion. You’ll indulge him.

For now.

You push back the laptop to show off your whole body, watching as his eyes greedily drink you in and his hand squeezes a bit harder at the base of his cock. Elliott was putting on quite a show as you slide up onto your knees. Letting your body chest down be seen as you spread your thighs open slowly, letting him get a good look at how wet you were. Glistening and flushed as you use two fingers to spread open your cunt to show him even more of you.

“Shit,” He hisses out, eyes hungrier than ever as you watch his tongue flick out over his lips. You just know he wants to taste you, you know damn well what that mouth can do. Your clit jerks at the motion and he all but whines at you. “I can’t wait to be home.”

You make a show of sliding two of your fingers down, catching your clit in the crook of them and rubbing until you’re perked and ready. Soon lowering and curling two fingers in yourself, your other hand grabbing at your breast and toying with your nipple just to watch his eyes flutter. But, before he can come up with another cocky thing, tell you what to do, you coo at him, “What a good boy. Do you like watching me?”

Just those few words ‘good boy’, that makes his entire facial features change. Elliott goes from hungry predator to flustered immediately, cheeks and ears red as his head falls back briefly to stroke himself a little faster. With the upper hand now on your side, you coo again to him.

“Don’t you want to watch me, baby boy?” You murmur softly, worried it doesn’t catch on the mic at first until his head near immediately zips back up to watch you. His hand is stuttering on his cock, as if he doesn’t want to cum too early as he squeezes at the base. His cock is shiny from lube, you assume, or saliva. Flushed and hard and bobbing back against his abdomen when he lets go to adjust his laptop a bit.

“Fuck yourself? Please?” Elliott all but sobs for you as you tease your own cunt with your fingers. You eye the toy you’d set on the bed beside you anyway, a rabbit vibrator you dearly loved. You think about putting on a strap on too, stroking it like he is his cock and telling him how you’d fuck him raw if he was here.

You’ll let him have this much.

When you go off screen briefly, you can hear him whine your name. But, you’re back quick enough, crawling back onto your knees and leaning back to give him a better angle. You use your own slick to lube up the head of the pink vibrator, carefully easing it into you with a bit of a huff from yourself at the tight fit. But, once snugly inside, you crank it up halfway and press the rabbit’s ears just right to frame your clit.

From there, it’s watching each other. With his hand moving in sync to how you thrust the toy inside of you. It didn’t matter if you sped up or slowed down, he was right in beat with you. No matter how hard he shook when you slowed down just to grind on your toy and moan lowly for him.

Eventually you can’t watch him, having to lie down on your back as you thrust the toy into you. Covering your mouth and tossing your head back to muffle noises. You hear him beside you, moaning and whining for you like the good boy he is. You hear him murmur about how beautiful you are, how he couldn’t wait to taste you again.  

You cry out as you cum, shaking and the hand covering your mouth now grabbing at your own hair. You must look a mess, despite thrusting the toy still readily into your throbbing, twitching cunt. You can hear his breath quickening, hear him whine, “I want to fuck you s-so bad- badly- want to cum all over your fu- fucki- fucking face-”

He’s a stuttering, shaky mess when you peek over. Just to see his head thrown back and biting into his fist as his cock beautifully jerks and twitches in his grasp. Streaking white ribbons across his abdomen and the bottom of his shirt that reaches up too high. Elliott’s flushed, red in the cheeks and his hand stopping its stroking, loosening his fist as his eyes, glassy and wet turn to look at you.

You smile at him, lying on your side with your cheeks equally flushed. “Just a few more days, baby.” You promise him.

Tiredly, he nods back, laughing softly before groaning. “Ugh, I need a shower- you headed to bed?”

Sleepily, you offer a ‘mmhm’ as your eyes get heavy. Just in time to hear him say that he loves you as the world goes dark.

You’ll deal with your cum soaked toy in the morning.

[caribbean-ace]

Thoughts after Supergirl 6x07 (buckle up, this is long):

1. Finally we’re moving forward to look Kara.

2. The recap pretty much sums up what has happened the entire mid season.

3. Will papa El be safe? I don’t want him to die

4. My Kara :( don’t touch my child.

5. Lena and Kelly are back yay😍

6. Which means the team is complete and now they’re going to find Kara *dances*

7. Science!Lena is everything to me😍 also, go off Kelly you’re a queen

8. We love a supportive girlfriend.

9. Lena upgraded her outfit, that’s because they’re finding Kara lol

10. I’m assuming Guardian’s debut will be for next mid season.

11. Oh boy the phantom escaped, this isn’t good

12. MY BABY ALEX😩

13. Shit just hit the fan. Oh boy this is really bad… Alex was being reckless but she just misses her sister

14. Don’t hurt my baby Alex

15. Lmao Nia is me admiring Lena. Lena is me admiring Nia. Girl freaking power😍 bonding timeeeee

16. “I miss my mom everyday too” 😭😭😭 as if i wasn’t crying alreadyyyy

17. Don’t hurt my baby Lenaaaa

18. What the fuck is happening! What the fuck happened to Brainy :(

19. Oh no, Lena reliving her trauma while they’re in danger this just went to 0 to welp we’re fuck

20. Brainy and Kelly bonding, this is nice! Give me more of it please

21. This is stressful, don’t hurt my children :( Kelly you go queen this is the birth of Guardian😍

22. So Kara wasn’t wrong when she said that all of them could get kill trying to help her.

23. Again, Nia is the freaking MVP of this episode.

24. So everyone is in the brick of death in this episode.

25. The Tower needs a system like Gideon, just saying.

26. Go papa spaceeee

27. When i said i missed the angst i didn’t mean it like this. Christ i’ve been on the edge of my seat the entire time

28. Are they going to dwell on Kara’s extensive trauma? If not, this is going to feel bland.

29. YEEEEES THE REUNION fucking finally😭

30. So no hugging the rest of the team?

31. Aaaaand i thought she was dead tho…

So overall it was a wild ride this episode, we’re half way there, i’m wondering how they’re going to wrap up the Lex story, since you know he got to walk away from all the things he did. Still don’t know how William fits in all of this, his character should’ve never been introduced (imo). All supercorp aside, if they’re going to force some shitty relationship let them be single instead. I hope they address the trauma Kara suffered while being in the PZ. There’s a whole lot more to say but this post is already freaking long so, we’ll leave it like this. Any thoughts or comments are welcome and please remember to always be respectful!

[imjustmarcy]

My Ao3 review of the year??

So, because I have nothing better to do, here: have a list of every fic (mainly bnha, oops) that I posted this year, sorted by different AUs and plot bc holy shit I made like 4 series this year-

Endeavor-centric:

The day that wasn't (x) (5k) Gonna be honest, not a big fan of Endeavor, but my pal Platypus mentioned their dream they had and well, this was born. Basically Endeavor getting hit with a Quirk that turns him into a ghost and makes so he's forced to follow his children around and hear what they really think of him. With a sprinkle of DabiHawks

Hawks-centric:

The Discovery (x) (1k) so my brain decided to write aromatic bisexual Hawks bc self project much and this is just a small piece of him finding out he's aro.

Very self indulgent DabiHawks plus Mar projecting onto Hawks again:

The bird that forgot how to fly (x) (2k) just some hurt/comfort that I wrote to vent

Dabihawks as parents:

Yes I am indeed that bitch. Now prepare yourself bc I wrote A LOT about this...

Phoenix (x) (20k) basically the introduction to the story of Ryu, the DabiHawks kid, and chapter two goes more in depth about him and his best friends. Chapter one is more DabiHawks centric, and chapter 3 is just a mister dump of extra info.

A (not really) spooky Halloween (x) (3k) Halloween special of Ryu trying to sneak out to a haunted house with his friends. Spoiler: his dads know and just decide to fuck with him.

Ryu's little time travel adventure (x) (6k) Ryu gets hit with a Quirk that sends him to the past, before his idiotic dads were even together. There will be a next part to this but at this rate it will have to be posted sometime in January so...

The new League of Villains (x) (7k) so Mar's monkey brain wanted to make a part with Ryu becoming a villain so... He's vry badass and formes the Dragon Alliance, aka the new LOV, with the help of his best friends and with the purpose of destroying the Hero Commission :D

Dabihawks has Ryu, but it's crack:

There's a lot more crack works for the Dragon Verse than there is for the 'Canon' story... Oh well

Sneaky is my middle name (or not) (x) (4k) Hawks has a big ass mouth and lets it slip he has a son and is married. Dabi is not amused.

Who's the dad? (x) (4k) follow-up to that disaster and poor attempt at a social media fic. The internet is smart and everyone already suspects that #DabiIsTheDad

Should've keep it in your pants (x) (4k) inspired by the amazing fic 'Stolen Fried Chicken'. Where Hawks discovers that his son's dad is very much not dead. Ft Natsuo and Hawks being the best bros and having one braincell between the two of them.

Dabi's Biggest Secret(s) (x) (3k) the Todorokis find a bunch of old flash drives with their older brother's videos and discover he used to date Hawks and had a kid with him before they even graduated high school :D

Hawks makes a scene (x) (2k) complementary to the previous part, with Hawks finding out Touya is not dead and proceeding to scream at his face in front of the entire League because he left Hawks and his son to belive he was dead.

Dabi the waking cryptid (x) (1k) modern college AU with no quirks?? I guess. So the league is all curious about why does Dabi never hangs out with them. Guy's just busy with his model and actor fiancé, his studies, and their son.

Again very self indulgent DabiHawks but it's Angel and demon AU.

Angel wings and demon instincts (x) (6k) Dabi is a demon and gets sent to earth to cause havoc, Hawks is an angel sent to find Dabi and keep him from causing havoc. They gay for each other. That's it.

An angel's first time (x) (1k) the first smut I write in the past 4 years or so, still demon and angel AU.

Shiggy, Hawks and Dabi being childhood friends <3

The Terror Trio (x) (2k) those three as childhood friends + their reunion, with a sprinkle or Shiggy/Natsuo and DabiHawks at the end.

The de-aged Terror Trio (or the little menaces, according to Aizawa Shota) (x) (5k) the Terror Trio get de-aged and found by Aizawa, who takes them to UA. They almost make class 1A have a heart attack.

Converting Eri to chaos, a guide by the Terror Trio (x) (5k) the de-aged Terror Trio bonds with Eri and they cause havoc at UA. A fourth and maybe last part on the works.

Yay for even more self indulgent DabiHawks:

The mysterious case of Hawks' boyfriend (x) (2k) Hawks is already dating Dabi, everyone at his agency are snoopy bitches and want to know the tea.

FINALLY, SOMETHING THAT'S NOT BNHA! My vld rewrite:

My Blood (x) (800) Lance is Altean and Allura is his cousing. Lotor is his half-brother. Klance and Lotura. The og version (the Spanish version, being published in my wattpad) is currently about halfway through the story, with 30 chapters. I'm working on translating this one and posting it on AO3, hence the low word count.

Aaaaand that's it. I just started writing in English this year, and that sort of really boosted my creativity, since I started posting stuff on AO3 just this past September, so to post this much fics in that amount of time... Damn. Will update the post if I manage to finish this I'm writing for Christmas/Ryu's birthday/Hawks' birthday.

[dnvrsmedia]

Quarantined With the Avengers

Nat x reader, Avengers! x reader

summary: an insight into your hetic life while quarantined with earth mightiest heros.

AN: this was so fun to write!! lmk if you want more content like this. as always, requests are open! enjoy ♥️

To say that you’re slowing pushing your breaking point would be an understatement. You are currently quarantined with your girlfriend, Natasha, which isn’t all that bad. The real problem is that you’re quarantined with all of the Avengers.

It’s been weeks since the last time you lived your “normal” life and you can tell who is starting to get agitated. You just so happen to be doing school on top of living at the compound which is always a nightmare. You had to stop doing your Zoom classes in the debrief room since everyone found out where you were. You see they may be all big and bad, but they’re really just five year olds.

One day, you were giving a speech in your public speaking (how ironic) class when you noticed no one was paying attention to you. Even your teacher wasn’t paying attention. You quickly got confused until you looked behind you. There Tony, Thor, Steve, and Sam where making a fool out of themselves. Thor was pretend choking Tony and Sam was pretend punching Steve. You quickly put yourself on mute and yelled at them to leave you alone. Your teacher didn’t even have you finish since she and the class had a lot of questions about your dumbass friends.

The next time you got interrupted was a little more sweet. The night before you were complaining to your wonderful girlfriend, Natasha, about how stressful it’s been since all of your teachers decide it’s a great time to give you more homework than they ever did before. You were even more stressed since you still had a job since you work in intel.

So, the next day while you were in one of your zoom classes on the brink of falling asleep, Nat comes in the room with lunch and a coffee. You quietly thank her and she kisses the top of your head. It would have been sweet just there, but of course Nat had to go an extra step. Before you could tell her no, she unmutes your mic and tells your teacher to stop giving out so much homework to everyone in her black widow voice, kisses your forehead once more, and leaves the room. To say your professor looked traumatized would be an understatement.You apologized profusely about her. Not even a week later, you had a significant less amount of homework.

Everyone in the compound started to get antsy since they probably haven’t had a time to relax from saving the world in years. So, to pass the time, you and Wanda came up with fun activities to do with everyone. Every night for dinner, there would be a theme that everyone had to stick to. In retrospect this sounded like a good idea, but it soon turned to a disaster.

For Thor’s theme, he had to make a meal like he was on the television show, chopped. Thor and cooking don’t really mix, so when you give him limited items and a time limit shit hits the fan quickly.

“So Thor, your ingredients are... a bag of lays chips, sandwich bread, aaaaand lunch meat. You have an hour on the clock. Starting in 3...2...1... go!” Tony hosted the “cooking show”. He obviously got taken away with it.

You and Wanda decided that you weren’t going to give Thor a hard time to make dinner, so you pretty much laid it out for him to make the team a regular sandwich and some chips for dinner. It was all going well until you smelt burning.

You were cuddling up against Nat on the couch when you noticed the kitchen was smoking. You don’t really think much about it since you remember that you’re waiting on dinner. Then you remember that he’s only supposed to make a sandwich. You see a high flame and hear the smoke detector go off. Both you and Nat jump up and haul ass to the kitchen to see Thor freaking out. Somehow he managed to light the bag of Lays on fire.

“Thor what the fuck happened in here!?” Nat yelled as she put the flaming bag in the sink and turned on the water. You turned on the vents and opened up the windows to get the smoke and smell of burnt out of the air.

“I had to warm the potato’s they were cold!” Thor wailed. The rest of the team heard all of the yelling and came to see what’s going on. Obviously Tony, Sam, Bucky, Clint, and Carol had a field day with this while you, Wanda, and Nat decided to scratch the idea and make dinner for the team like normal. Thor wasn’t allowed in the kitchen without supervision for a good 4 weeks after the incident.

To end the hetic headache inducing days you have at the compound, you get to spend personal time with Natasha. Out of all the negative things that come with quarantine, you can’t help but be greatful that it allowed you to spend more time with her. You’re greatful that it forced her to finally take the rest that she deserves although she might not feel like she does.