#also he is a fully grown man let him act like one instead of a blushing teen

[mar-mots]

I don't like talking about my pet peeves in fanfic because all fanfic is good and righteous but I hate hate hate when people write Viktor as a shy little bean.

NO!!! That man has an ATTITUDE!!! Give him one!!!

[astupidweeb69]

The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.

Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!

___________________________________________________________

Your brother hated his new roommate.

From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.

You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.

It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay. 

Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.

After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.

You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?

He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.

On one condition.

Stay away from Toby.

You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.

But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.

So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport. 

He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.

Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival. 

“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”

It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.

You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.

“You two fighting or something?” 

Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

“Weird how?” 

He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”

“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.

Another pause. This one is longer than before.

“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”

______________________________________________________________

The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.

The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.

After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it. 

The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.

It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment.  “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”

“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.

Time for bed I guess. 

You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.

You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.

The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.

You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.

So you did.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected. 

However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.

Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.

Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking. 

You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.

But he didn’t.

The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.

The fuck?

You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?

You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.

He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face. 

If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.

A hand reached out. 

Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused. 

He was touching you. 

He was touching your face.

Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.

“M-must be the ssss-sister…”

That was the first clear sentence you could understand.

He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing. 

His whispering.

“Soft”

Then he left.

Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.

______________________________________________________________

“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.

It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of,  had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake. 

You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.

From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms. 

You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room. 

You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man. 

So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself. 

He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.

Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention. 

“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”

“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.” 

You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”

He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”

You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.

“Okay. What time does it-”

A door opened. You stopped talking.

Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound. 

Toby was up.

The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.

He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.

Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.

He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.

“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.

Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.

“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”

“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.

Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.

“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”

Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.

“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?” 

You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone. 

“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”

“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”

Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.

You pretended to be unbothered. 

It didn’t work.

He noticed.

And he liked the way you squirmed.

______________________________________________________________

Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.

You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.

Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.

Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house. 

Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.

God you were going to need a drink to get through this.

Maybe even a couple.

Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.

One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.

You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.

More social.

Less inhibited. 

Numb.

After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room. 

You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand.  You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music. 

And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.

It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.

You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?

Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.

Toby.

He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly. 

Oh god you felt your heart flutter.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.

He creeped you out.

He didn’t shower. 

He smelled like death. 

You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.

And you were already walking over there.

You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.

It was working. 

He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance. 

But you didn’t know that.

You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.

“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”

He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.

“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.

You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”

Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?” 

It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.

“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”

Why did you say that?

Why?

It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.

You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.

“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why. 

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs. 

Fuck. 

One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.

Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?

He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.

He was strong. 

You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary. 

So why did he turn you on? 

He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.

You barely registered him locking the door behind him.

With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.

“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick. 

“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.

He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before. 

“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”

You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”

You paused. Was he talking about you? 

“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.

You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue? 

Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.

“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....” 

You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew. 

He fucking knew the whole time. 

He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other. 

Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner. 

Your bra was next. 

In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea. 

He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention. 

He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.

Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care. 

He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.

A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog. 

After a while, he finally lifted his head up. 

Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt. 

His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately. 

You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”

His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him. 

Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.

He made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.

“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold. 

“...Fuck you bloody.”

Shit this guy was scary.

In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.

You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.

That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought. 

He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.

You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.

“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.

He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.

Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat. 

It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you. 

It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”

Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.

You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.

Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.

You screamed.

You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.

You screamed bloody fucking murder.

“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”

Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.

It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.

You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.

The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how. 

Something started to build. 

More and more.

Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax. 

His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head. 

He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.

His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.

Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.

And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.

“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”

[aynavaano]

Good boy

Kinktober ‘24 - face sitting/submission

Hunter × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: You're part of the Bad Batch for a while and the tension between you and Hunter is about to snap.

Notes: This is the first time writing sub!Hunter and I have to credit @bring-backup-99 for making me fall in love with the idea of Hunter subbing. This fic is also meant as a little gift for you, for treating us so well to now already over 50!!! chapters of Bad Choices, I hope you like it. Tags: mutual pinning, sub! and simping Hunter, face sitting, oral f receiving. This is one of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my requests are open.

It started innocently enough - fleeting glances, soft smiles exchanged when no one was looking - but it wasn't long before the tension between you and Hunter became impossible to ignore. He was always there, watching you with that quiet intensity, the unspoken need burning in his eyes. It drove you crazy, the way he hovered close, always attentive, always trying to make sure you were safe and taken care of.

But it wasn't just his protectiveness that got to you.

No, it was the way he looked at you.

Like he wanted to devour you. And that face - his strong, sharp features, that jawline, and his nose. The way his nose curved, slightly prominent and perfectly shaped. You couldn't stop thinking about it. How it would feel pressed between your legs, grinding against you while his mouth worked you over.

You'd fantasized about riding his face more times than you could count, imagining his tongue buried inside you, your hands tugging his hair while you used his nose to rub yourself to climax. His face, especially his nose, just looked so... rideable.

And the way he practically worshiped you with his eyes every time you were around, you knew he wanted it too. He seemed so desperate to please you.

Today the ship was quiet, the others out on a supply run, leaving just you and Hunter alone with not much to do. It had been a while since the two of you had been alone, and the silence between you had grown thick during the last hour, filled with the weight of your unspoken desires.

Hunter paced around the ship restlessly, pretending to do repairs. You watched him from your seat, biting back a smile at how worked up he was getting. He’d been trying to hide it for weeks, the way he looked at you, how his gaze lingered just a little too long. But you saw through him — you always did.

Finally, he stopped, running a hand through his hair he took a deep breath.

"I can’t do this anymore," he admitted, voice rough with frustration. His eyes were pleading, searching for any kind of relief.

You raised an eyebrow, acting innocent. “Do what, exactly?”

He turned to face you fully, swallowing hard before speaking.

“Pretending that there’s nothing happening between us. That I’m not thinking about you every damn second and slowly loosing my mind.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart skip, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you crossed your legs slowly, watching his eyes flicker down to the movement, and you saw how his throat bobbed as he swallowed again.

“And what do you expect me to do about that?”

His shoulders tensed, you could see how hard he was holding himself back.

“Anything. Whatever you want,” he said, almost breathless. “Just—" He paused, his voice dropping into a desperate whisper, "I need you.”

You leaned back, allowing the power to shift in your favor. The way he looked at you, so raw and needy, sent a wave of heat through you. You had him exactly where you wanted.

“You need me?” you repeated slowly, savoring the way he hung on your every word.

Hunter nodded, his eyes wide, waiting, like a man on the edge, desperate for permission.

“Please,” he rasped.

You took your time, letting him sweat under your gaze.

A smile played on your lips as you stood up, moving toward him, savoring the way his breath hitched with each step. You stopped just inches from him, looking up into his beautiful golden brown eyes.

Hunter let his hands slide up your sides, gripping you like he was afraid you'd slip away.

"Want to see you fall apart for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, inhaling your scent.

"Want to taste you," he breathed out, the words tumbling from his lips with no hesitation.

The thought sent heat straight to your core, but you didn't plan on making it easy for him. You leaned back, looking into his eyes, enjoying the way he seemed so desperate for your approval.

“Then get on your back,” you said softly, watching the way his body tensed with anticipation, his eyes widening at the command.

“And take off your shirt”

He hesitated for only a second before obeying, stripping the top part of his blacks and lying down on one of the bunks, his eyes never leaving yours. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the anticipation making him tense in every part of his body.

You’ve seen him topless before but he looked even better now, so eager for you, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his caramel skin emphasizing his tattoo running down his chest and you noticed he was already sporting a prominent bulge. His blacks did a poor job at hiding it and you had to bite back a groan. The outline of his cock looked promising.

His broad form was sprawled across the narrow mattress, hands resting casually behind his head and his dark brown locks were slightly tousled but there was a tension in his jaw and the barely-restrained hunger in his gaze was impossible to miss.

You started by pulling your shirt over your head, your skin tingling under his intense stare. His breath hitched, though he stayed silent, watching.

You teased him, unbuttoning your pants slowly, sliding them down inch by inch until they pooled at your feet. Hunter shifted, his eyes trailing down your body.

Your fingers reached behind to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor. The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, heat building low in your belly as you felt exposed in the best way.

Finally, you hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties and slipped them down your legs, standing before him, completely bare.

Hunter didn't move right away, but the look in his eyes said everything - pure, raw need.

You relished the way his eyes darkened with desire, his control slipping as he took in every inch of your exposed skin. The cold air of the Marauder’s ventilation made you shiver, your nipples hardening from the sudden chill. It felt good to have such an effect on him.

With one step you closed the gap between you and reached behind his head to loosen his bandana. Before he could react you snatched it and with one swift motion you ran it through your soaked folds and threw it to the floor.

"Kriff," he growled dangerously, sitting up, reaching for you. "Please…"

“Please what?”

"I want you."

The desperation in his voice, the way he hung onto your every word, made you bolder. You pushed him back down and climbed onto the bunk, straddling his chest, your knees on either side of his head. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his hands hovering near your legs but not quite touching.

"Is this what you wanted?" you teased, leaning down slightly, your pussy hovering just above his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, his anticipation building with every second but not daring to touch you, not yet.

"Yes," he groaned, his voice thick with need.

His nose brushed against your inner thigh, and you shivered, your body responding to the feeling of his sharp features so close to where you wanted him. And you would get there, but you wanted to drag this out, make him wait a little longer.

“Such a beautiful pussy", he whimpered.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to grind down on him, to ride his nose and make him watch as you used him for your own pleasure.

"I know you've been thinking about it for weeks, devouring me with your eyes", you murmured, running your fingers through his thick, curly hair, tugging slightly and earning a moan from him in return.

"Yes," he gasped, his hands twitching at his sides, "…been dreaming about it too... please, I need you."

“What is it that you want Hunter? Use your words.”

“I want you, want to touch you…to taste you, want to bury my cock in your pussy…I…I…anything…just let me make you come”

“So desperate” you said softly, “If you’ll be good Hunter, maybe I’ll let you fuck me. But first…”

You smiled, your heart racing as you finally lowered yourself onto his mouth, feeling his lips part eagerly and he licked a slow, deliberate line up your folds. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect, and you let out a shaky breath as the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"Just like that," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Hunter groaned against you, his hands finally coming up to grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved. His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing and circling as he sucked and licked, his nose pressing firmly against your mound. The feel of it, the pressure of his nose grinding against you as he worked his tongue deeper, was everything you'd imagined.

“Good boy”, you whimpered and earned a moan from him in return.

You started to move, grinding your pussy down against his face, riding his tongue and nose as he eagerly took everything you gave him. His moans vibrated through you, and you could feel how much he loved this - how much he loved being used, being under you, pleasing you, worshipping you with his mouth.

"Yes," you moaned, lewd sounds falling from your lips, your fingers tightening and tugging his hair as you moved faster, feeling the tension coil tighter in your core.

"You're doing so good, Hunter... so good for me."

His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath coming in heavy pants between licks as he worked harder, desperate to make you come.

"Please come for me," he mumbled, his voice barely audible against your wetness. "Please... let me make you fall apart."

The sound of him begging, his tongue buried inside you, his nose grinding perfectly against your clit - it was delicious. Your hips moved faster, chasing your release as you rode his face, using him for your pleasure. You could feel the tension in your body snap, your orgasm crashing over you as you ground down hard against his mouth.

“Don’t hold back mesh’la, make a mess of me”

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure surged through you, wave after wave of ecstasy. You could feel him groaning beneath you, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

Before overstimulation settled in you pulled back slightly, still high on dopamine and out of breath. When you peeked down at him he looked absolutely beautiful. His face was glistening with your juices, his lips and chin soaked from devouring you. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression completely blissed out, like he'd just tasted heaven and couldn't get enough.

Your thighs still shook around his head when you slowly came down from your high and lowered yourself onto his chest. You leaned back reaching for his cock, he felt good, big and with a nice girth, you shuddered thinking about how good he would fill you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when your felt something wet. You glanced down, surprised to see a dark stain spreading across the lower part of his blacks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted beneath you.

He'd come.

He'd come just from eating you out.

You smirked, sliding off of him, watching as he blinked up at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen and glistening with your arousal. You settled in beside him resting your head on his chest.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself," you teased, brushing a hand over the tip of his cock and the wet spot on his pants. Hunter groaned, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You nuzzled his neck with your nose, he smelled heavenly.

"I couldn't help it”, he admitted, his voice rough. "You're just... you're so everything I ever wanted."

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly.

“Who would have thought you could be so obedient, Hunter”, you murmured against his lips, letting your fingers trail through the soft hair on his chest.

"Maybe next time... I'm going to ride you properly, I bet that dick is going to feel so good."

His eyes darkened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of his lips.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you what that dick can do.”

[spicyspiders]

Can you do a smutty lil fic with m reader who has thighs so thicckqq that the pants they where cause rashes? I’m struggling myself and it kinda sounds weird. With konig pls. Don’t need to reply

Why'd you type thick like that?😭Also, I hope you don't mind but I switched the story up a bit and made it so that the reader wears a tight uniform on missions, but out of uniform they started wearing shorts and their thighs distract König.

"König," you said after you entered your room, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. You were used to König being a little strange, hell, everyone on base was a little strange, but it's been days.

König's head snaps up from the book he was reading to look in your direction. It wasn't strange for the man to be reading a book, but what was was how many times you'd caught him looking at your thighs. You didn't mind him looking at your body, but you found it suspicious how quickly he would look away, like he was afraid of being caught.

"Yes?" He asked as he closed the book and placed it beside him. His voice was small. You hated when he sounded like that, you always wanted to make sure the man was okay.

"You're acting strange."

"I am?" He asked, his eyes going down to look at the skin on display from your shorts. You let out a huff when his eyes went back to your face, and his eyes went wide.

"You are. What's wrong?" You asked as you sat down beside him.

He was quiet for what felt like a long time before he answered with a question of his own, "why're you wearing those?" He asked, gesturing to your shorts. He put a hand out like he was going to touch them, but caught himself before he quickly pulled it away.

"My shorts?" You asked, looking down at them.

"They are distracting."

"My shorts?" You questioned, before letting out a laugh of disbelief. "My shorts are distracting?"

"No!" He answers, frustrated. His hands were balled at his sides, and you quickly picked up on where his frustration stemmed from: himself.

"Hey," you said softly, "it's okay," you placed a hand down onto his in comfort. You waited for him to find the words he actually meant as you ran your fingers along his hand.

König didn't speak until his hands relaxed, "your body distracts me. Your thighs."

It only took a few seconds for it all to connect. You normally wore sweatpants and a shirt to relax around the base after missions. For the past few days, however, you instead wore a pair of shorts to keep your body cool, fearful of a head rash breaking out over your body. There wasn't much you could do about your uniform, but you at least could control what you wore out of it.

"You don't need to hide from looking at them," you said. You took one of his hands and placed it right at the edge of your shorts in the middle of your thighs. "I don't wear them to distract you," smirking as König blushed, "but you can touch them all you want."

"All I want?" König questioned, looking up at you in awe as you sat up on your knees.

"All you want," you whisper.

König pulls your shorts down slowly before he leans down onto his forearm. His warm breath puffs onto your skin, which felt much more sensitive after you decided to shave certain areas of your body would help keep away the heat. You weren't sure if it actually helped yet, but it damn sure felt good when König ran his tongue along your smooth skin.

His tongue runs along your skin, getting it wet with his spit. It almost feels like the water from the shower you were just in, but this one was much more enjoyable, if also a little gross with all of the spit.

You gasp when König adds his teeth into the mix to bite marks into your skin. Your cock had already begun to fatten up from his tongue, but with the added pleasure of his teeth, your cock had grown fully hard. It bobbed in the air, hard and angry for König to take care of.

"Good boy," you murmured down at the man as he took your cock into the wet cavern of his mouth. Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his pants, before they went back to watch the ways König's lips stretched around your cock.

You made a note in your head to get König a pair of shorts that matched your own and to see how distracting they actually were. You just hoped you could remember to do so as your mind went blank from the pleasure König's mouth brought ran through your body.

[vodika-vibes]

Dogma AU ask you say? Ok hmmm… how about this! Dragon AU. Dogma is a dragon, who can shapeshifter into human form, and the local town offers a “human sacrifice to appease the monster”. But of course he’s not gonna have ANY of that nonsense! Also this is tooooootally not to make a pun of the game called “Dragon’s Dogma”

Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Summary: Rumor has it that a massive dragon is living in the mountains near the village your parents dragged you to after you refused a marriage agreement to a man who would have made them wealthy. Rumor has it that the only way to keep the village safe is to sacrifice a woman to the dragon. You were the most recent sacrifice…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1434

Prompt: Dragon AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: You know, I've been pretty anxious for most of the day, but the moment I started writing Dogma the anxiety faded. Is Dogma my comfort character? Who have I become? Anyway, I hope you like it!

You stand at the bottom of a massive tree, your hands on your hips are you glare up at the hint of blue and silver peeking through the leaves. “Dogma! Get down from there!”

There’s silence for a moment, and your scowl deepens.

“Stop acting like a child. You are fully grown and this isn’t cute.”

A large snout peeks out from between the leaves and huffs smoke in your direction. 

You sneeze and wave the smoke away from your face, “If you think that my inability to climb trees will keep me from coming up there after you, you’re wrong.” You warn.

The dragon retreats between the leaves.

“Fine. I warned you.” You call up to him. 

There’s no noise at all, save for the sound of wind through the leaves, and you sigh.

Honestly, he’s acting like a child. All you did was ask if he wanted fish for dinner and now he’s sulking like a toddler.

You kick your shoes off and jump so you’re able to grab the lowest branch. Carefully you walk yourself up so you’re able to swing your leg over the branch. You scan the next level of branches, and then stand on your current branch and reach for the next one that you can reach.

Dogma is watching you. 

You know he’s watching you without having to check.

You can almost feel his anxiety as you start scrabbling up the tree for the next branch. It’s not graceful or elegantly done, but you’ve never actually climbed a tree before.

“I can’t believe—oof,” You slip and almost fall, but manage to catch yourself, “—believe that you’re making me come up here to get you.” You grouse under your breath. 

I’m not making you do anything, ad’ika. Dogma’s voice echoes through your mind and you tilt your head in his direction.

“You’re acting like a child.”

I do not like fish.

“And that’s an excuse to throw a tantrum like a toddler? Woah!” You have to grab at the tree to keep from falling.

You’re going to get hurt.

“You’ll catch me if I fall.”

How am I to do that when you’re below me?

“That sounds like a you problem, Dogma.”

The dragon releases an explosive sigh, I think I preferred it when you were afraid of me.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

You can’t allow me a single delusion?

“It’s not healthy.” You retort with a grin.

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes, but then you’re distracted when the tree starts shaking and you end up having to sit on the branch you were standing on to not lose your balance.

Dogma climbs down the tree head-first, though he pauses when he reaches your level so you’re able to wrap your arms around his neck. He’s large enough that you can barely reach around him, but you’re secure enough that he’s comfortable moving with you latched to him like a particularly stubborn burr.

You think he’s going to set you on the ground as soon as he’s close enough to let you down, but you’re also not surprised when he doesn’t. Instead, he walks a little ways away from the tree and starts to shift.

Your feet lightly touch the ground and strong arms slide around your waist, and you find yourself looking into the handsome, human, face of Dogma. “Found you~” You tease.

“Oh, was I lost?” He teases in return, as he lightly bumps his forehead against yours.

You just shrug, a quiet laugh falling from you, “Are you feeling more like you now that you’re sulk is over?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “No fish.”

“Alright, alright. No fish.” You grin at him, “But that means, Dogma, that you need to go hunting.”

He sighs, “I know, I know.” Dogma pulls back slightly and presses his face against your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell like me.”

“Is that a problem?” You ask with a grin.

“Not at all, love that you smell like me.” He pulls back and presses a light kiss against the tip of your nose, “Ready to go home?”

“Ready.” You reply, releasing him to give him so space to turn back into his true form. 

His dragon form is massive, large enough to carry you at least, with dark blue and silver scales, plus the black scales on his face that take the form of his tattoo when he’s in his human form.

In your opinion, he’s gorgeous in both forms.

Don’t forget your shoes. Dogma says as he nudges you with his snout.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head, “I hate wearing them.”

You’ll regret it come winter.

“You’re right.” You admit with a sigh, releasing him long enough to grab your shoes from the base of the tree. A pointed look from Dogma as you pull them on, rather than just carrying them. “There, happy?”

Thrilled. Dogma replies as he lowers his head to allow you on his back. Make sure you hold on.

“I always do.” You wrap your arms around him tightly as he takes to the sky. The first time Dogma took you to the tree where he and his brothers tend to gather, you feared that it would be a bumpy ride.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t. When he flies, it’s very smooth. Smooth enough that you only have to hold on tight for take-off and landing. So, as soon as he’s soaring through the clouds, you loosen your grip and absently stroke his neck. 

That is not holding on, ad’ika.

“I know, but I’m not worried about falling.” You say lightly. For a long moment, you’re quiet, “Hey, Dogma?”

His head turns slightly so he’s able to look at you, What’s wrong?

“Nothing. I’m just curious about something.”

Go ahead.

“What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

What do you mean?

“Just…when they make the next sacrifice to you.” You ask as you trace his scales, “What…what happens to me?”

Dogma is quiet for a long time, Hold on, ad’ika. We’re landing.

“Already?” You ask, though you do as he requests and wraps your arms tightly around him. He banks sharply and lowers to land next to a massive lake, and then he lowers his head to let you off. 

Slowly, you slide off his back and move so you’re standing in front of him, “Is something wrong?”

Dogma’s transformation is a lot quicker than last time, and you’re so surprised that you take half a step back as he steps into your space and brings his hands to press against your cheeks.

“Dogma?”

“Do you think that I’m going to make you leave when the winter solstice comes?” He asks, his eyes still have flecks of gold in them from how rapidly he shifted.

“I…well…” You avert your gaze, though he’s still holding your face pretty tightly. 

“Oh, ad’ika.” Slowly he presses his forehead against yours, “How long has this worry been on your mind?”

You shrug, “Not long. A couple of months.”

“That’s too long for you to be worried about this, ad’ika.” Dogma says, “So, this is me telling you, right here, right now. I’m not asking you to go anywhere at the next Winter Solstice. Or the one after.”

Your gaze drifts back to meet his, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Even though I’m…me?”

“I don’t want you to be anyone else.” Dogma replies, “You’re perfect, I’ll keep you forever, if you let me.”

“But I’m human.”

“You let me worry about that.” He leans in and gently presses his lips against yours in a soft and gentle kiss. And then another one, and another one.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You murmur against his lips, “What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

His hand slides from your cheek to press against the back of your neck, “Ad’ika, the next Winter Solstice belongs to the Wolfpack.” Dogma murmurs against your lips, “So far as we’re concerned? Nothing happens the next winter solstice.”

You gasp as his lips crash against yours, and he walks you backward until your back bumps against a tree. “Dogma—”

You feel him smile against your lips, “I should get you back home.” He murmurs, “But how about a short break.”

“A break?”

A sly smile crosses his face as his hand slides to the laces of your dress, “Maybe not so short.”

Your face heats as he tugs the laces loose, “I suppose a break wouldn’t be too bad.” You reply with a small smirk of your own. Your hands move to cup his face, and your smirk turns into a genuine smile, “Dogma?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

And he freezes for a moment, his eyes wide and astonished, and then he grins and crashes his lips against yours once more. “I love you too.”

[astrolavas]

Wait that hunter and willow struggle with vulnerabilty essay you mentioned... Hand it over 🫵

KXJSK thank you for enabling my brainrot, let's GO 🫡

okay so, for starters, we all know both hunter and willow tend to hide their vulnerability, push down their feelings and repress a lot, but it's actually super interesting how they do it in completely different ways and for such different reasons.

i've already written one essay about hunter's tendency to do that here, but that was a while ago, so let's refresh it up a little bit with season 3.

hunter lived his entire life in the emperor's coven, as a magicless witch at that, isolated from everyone and manipulated. he got used to ignoring and hiding how he felt, because showing vulnerability in the coven was seen as weakness, and showing his real emotions could have genuinely very very bad consequences for him. especially with him having no magic, he was already disrespected and seen as lesser by everyone (for example, the covenheads) but he yearned to be respected, to be treated well, equally; so he couldn't afford to show any vulnerability there. and when it came to showing negative feelings near belos... well. that especially had the potential to take a dark turn really fast; to provoke belos to do something. it was genuinely dangerous for him to express his emotions, it wasn't safe for him at all. he could NOT do it.

his golden guard persona also comes into play here and it's SO interesting how he uses it. masking (in a literal, psychological AND metaphorical sense); using it to feel braver, to act more confident. taking on a role of the emperor's trusted right-hand man instead of the lonely kid that he was. all this... well, surrounded by that hurtful mentality and hostile coven environment, he had to do it; to be more respected, to be able to do things that he had to do, to actually FUNCTION. it was a necessity for his survival.

but here's the thing, he likes to think of himself as a more of a practical/logical/rational thinker, and he IS in general, that is true, but he actually DOES act based on his emotions and moral compass quite often. he's also really good at reading and analyzing people, and immediately getting them. he's oblivious to some things but overall he's emotionally smart, and very very insightful and perceptive....... it might be sth he's naturally skilled at, but he also definitely had to learn it; had to know how to read belos' mood and probably learnt all the little things he had to watch out for on some days, all the little signs to stop talking or look away. all that was, once again, for his own safety. BUT OKAYKXJSKK we're accidentally going off course here so let's go back slightly- hunter is also VERY expressive (which makes sense considering he wore a mask most of the time. ............. also hyper-expressive autism #real #so true—) so oftentimes his emotions are actually (no matter how hard he tries to hide or deny them) well visible on his face, before he manages to school them; although that also depends on the exact emotion he's feeling, some are more visible than others. so this is interesting, how he simultaneously automatically represses/hides some of his feelings and manifests them as something else but also feels everything so intensely and is such an open book based on his initial facial expressions. both of these facts coexist.

so, vulnerability. we already know hunter has trouble expressing his emotions at times. he loves to pretend he's okay when he clearly isn't; and it takes a LOT for him to open up to someone. he only really lets himself be truly emotionally vulnerable next to people he fully trusts and feels safe with, it doesn't come to him with ease.

that's why his scene with luz in the forest shack's basement is so important. that ENTIRE scene, actually. we can really see how much they've grown to trust each other, how safe they feel in each other's presence. what they had going on with their secret-keeping was not really fully healthy at the time, because they kept comforting each other from their VERY similar perspectives/stances, which just further locked in their mentality of "oh they'll hate both of us when they find out our secrets"; they were ensuring each other's fears by relating to each other; it was a circle. but nevertheless, they still cared about each other and have grown to care about each other even more throughout the few months.

here, hunter managed to admit that he was scared. he felt comfortable enough to admit his vulnerability like that to luz since they've grown closer and truly trusted each other with this. he's grown SO much.

and then... the crying scene. i am not exaggerating when i say this is SUCH an important moment for hunter's character, as well as a perfect insight into his dynamic with luz. especially since the thing that jumpstarted his cry was luz telling him he's family now, and that she wants to ensure he's safe too... all his emotions coming to the surface, him finally not managing to keep stuff in, allowing himself to be vulnerable like that next to someone, actually crying and letting it out instead of holding it in or distancing himself in order to go through it alone... it was a big step for him, and it perfectly illustrated just how much he's grown. and the way luz responded to it was also so thoughtful. she was extremely tired and depressed herself, but she still showed worry. she knew hunter needed space to let it all out and avoided crowding him, since jumping at him with worry and questions and hugs would only make it worse and freak him out, but she initiated a delicate half-hug after a moment, non-verbally expressing her care.

but moving on!

now, let's focus on hunter post-flapjack's death.

it's a big, traumatic event that affects and shakes him a LOT. he doesn't feel good, he doesn't feel happy, and that predictably results in the same thing as always..... hunter repressing his negative feelings and masking them as anger. prioritizing helping others and focusing on a mission at hand. not being sure if he's okay or how he feels or how to express what he feels when someone asks.

this is the behaviour we've ALWAYS seen from him in such situations. in season 2a, when he's just generally unhappy even if he doesn't realize it, and appears as angry and irritable... and in labyrinth runners, when he lives alone while dealing with serious life events; distances himself from everything and everyone, and then tries to act as if nothing had happened, and isn't sure HOW to express/talk abt his feelings, prefers to focus on someone/something else instead. andddd at the end of thanks to them after flapjack's death! when he immediately asks if everyone else is okay and jumps in to comfort luz and focuses on taking belos down; on a task. JUST... AUGHH! he prefers to push through his feelings cuz it's a defense mechanism, the same one he's been using in the past; in the coven. it allowed him to survive, and such instinct is not something that's easy to abandon.

so, this entire pattern is so, so clear in how he acts in for the future too. he tries to mask his grief and sadness with anger and coldness. he keeps pushing people (and palismen) away, distancing himself from others, acting irritable, focusing solely on the mission at hand, just wanting to find belos immediately; thinking about literally anything but flapjack or what happened just a few hours prior, cuz it hurts too much to think about it. the sadness and other emotions that accompany him as a result of flapjack's death keep sneaking up on him in random moments, but he fights not to let them through fully. he cannot allow himself to break down right now.

but then, he's alone for a moment, and he allows himself to feel some vulnerability here. he's overwhelmed by what's happening and misses flapjack. and, as always, he doesn't know what to say. he feels everything so intensely inside but he has no idea how to express that on the outside, he doesn't know how to put everything that he thinks and feels into proper words; how to accurately communicate everything he wants to communicate to gus and willow. he struggles with that.

but just like willow had her arc of repression (to be talked about in a second) and finally realized she can rely on other people too and allowed herself to show feelings and vulnerability instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out, hunter similarly let himself show some of that vulnerability to his friends. in the span of that moment, driven by pure instinct and his love for his friends, he managed to put what he'd always wanted to say into words.

he also realized that flapjack is always going to be a part of him in a way (both literally and metaphorically), even when he's not actually there, and it brought him some comfort at last... it didn't heal him or got rid of his grief ofc, there's a long journey ahead of him, but it helped him with the first step of dealing with grief and accepting what had happened.

now, when we compare how he is with feelings right now to how he was at the beginning of the series, he's truly grown so much. he's always gonna somewhat struggle with expressing his emotions and vulnerability, but now that he's surrounded by people who care about him, whom he trusts with his life, who he doesn't fear being vulnerable around, it's going to be so much easier for him. of course, there are always going to be instances where something bad happens and he represses again; his defense mechanism and trauma response aren't going to just instantly disappear like that. but he has people he can be his true self around now, people he can confide in; it's going to help him a lot. and he's going to continue growing, and developing as a person.

.....yeah! okay, now... willow time!!

willow's repression arc has always been always kinda sprinkled in and hinted at throughout the duration of the series. we know she was bullied for a significant amount of time and it affected her confidence a lot, but it also made her repress and push down her feelings.

i'd say her arc almost had... two parts to it. the first one was her coming out of her shell, gaining confidence and embracing her strength. the second one: her struggle with vulnerability and repressing feelings.

meeting luz and transferring to plant track was what definitely helped her with the confidence problem. she flourished (lol) after she was allowed to embrace her interests and strengths. but what remained, was that willow saw her insecurity and emotions as her weaknesses. she even said it herself, she most of all wants to protect everyone she loves (similar to hunter actually), and all-together that resulted in her shutting herself off and just focusing on others' feelings. wanting to be reliable for her friends, seeing herself as the "strong one" in the group; the rock. the mature one.

always pretending she's okay and fine with everything, putting a smile on her face through it all. because after all, she doesn't want others to worry about her, right? (she did it for all emotions too, basically)

especially if we take into account that she was bullied and seen as inferior to others for years + her entire past with amity + just in general her history with the abomination track and the expectations from her dads regarding it, all of it was trauma for willow and she ended up with the need to hide her feelings (something she saw as her weakness/flaws/weak spots) as a coping mechanism. she hated being seen as weak, and after she gained more confidence in herself, that feeling only grew.

in for the future, we could see just how much the suppression was affecting her. she still tried to be cheerful, dependable, not bothering anyone with her own worries, trying to make others feel better. but with each next moment, every feeling of hers builds up more and more, until finally it cannot be contained anymore. and explodes.

her magic is actually also a great metaphor/illustration of her feelings suppression. whenever willow's especially feeling things, we can always see how her magic reacts too it, how her emotions manifest through it. and this scene in ftf is a great visual representation of it; how the vines slowly cover her until she's completely buried under them. how helpless she feels. man...

but at last, she allows herself to let her feelings out. she's assured that she's not any worse for it, told that reliable people can rely on others as well. she lets all her worries and fears and thoughts and vulnerability finally show, instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out. it's such a turning moment for her. because from then on, she's shown to genuinely express more emotions and not depend entirely on herself, now that she's aware it doesn't make her any less strong. she's assured none of her friends are gonna think any less of her, or to see her as weak, and that's good.

actually, another thing i wanna bring up is willow being saved and bridal-carried by hunter in this scene.

could she have saved herself? yes, most likely, just like she did in any sport in a storm, when she was still suppressing any weaknesses of hers and relying on herself only. if hunter hadn't teleported to save her, she'd probably do just that. but this little moment is actually such a good illustration of how now that she's allowing herself to depend on others too (instead of just be dependable), she allows herself to be saved. when she needs it.

see, this is actually the thing i've seen lots of people confused about because "willow is independent, she wouldn't want to be saved" and... that actually confuses me, because it truly misses the very core of her character arc.

the point is that she CAN take care of herself and she wants others (especially people who see her as weak) to know that and to not underestimate her abilities (just like we've seen in labyrinth runners, for example). but, at the same time, she also wasn't allowing herself to take her guard off or to be saved by others for a long time exactly for that same reason; because she didn't want to be seen as weak anymore. she wanted to be seen as only strong and independent, to the point where she deemed any weakness of hers as bad.

like, that's the entire point of her character, her repressing negative feelings then finally allowing herself to open up and be more vulnerable (+ realizing it doesn't make her any less strong). she doesn't hate being saved necessarily, she hates being seen as inferior and weak and incompetent. for example, willow hated when amity constantly tried to save her in labyrinth runners instead of letting her take care of things herself or acknowledging her strengths because it made her think amity thought she was not capable of protecting herself. because it was amity saving her from the smallest things. it made her feel disrespected, as if she was called weak right to her face.

now... hunter never saw willow as weak, ever, and he knows perfectly well that she can take care of herself. he respects her and likes her in her entirety, both for her strength as well as her softer, more vulnerable side. BUT in moments when he thinks she does need protecting or saving, he doesn't hesitate to do so. and now that willow has let herself be more vulnerable and realized she can let herself rely on others more, she clearly appreciates and doesn't mind it whatsoever.

the mutual trust and respect is the actual key point in hunter and willow's relationship; they both know each of them are strong and skilled and able to protect themselves, but they also know each others' vulnerabilities and want to protect each other when a situation actually calls for it. both willow and hunter want the ppl they care abt (each other included) to be safe and they will protect them when they need it, but neither of them would like... completely discredit someone's abilities to stay safe on their own. so when it comes to willow's strength complex, hunter knows when willow can take it cuz he respects her and trusts her abilities, but when she actually needs it, he'll gladly save and protect her as his priority; but not in frivolous instances when she can take care of herself. and she will do the same for him.

so yeah!

tldr; it's actually super cool how both willow and hunter repress their feelings a lot and prioritize others over themselves but it manifests in such different ways and comes from slightly different circumstances/reasonings for each of them.

willow more-so feels like she has to be the more mature one in the group, and she pretends she's okay and fine and focuses on how others are feeling instead of herself cuz she wants to be dependable and hates showing weakness or being seen as weak. whereas, hunter isn't sure how to express himself and when he feels negative things, they manifest as anger/irratibility. he prefers to focus on some productive task instead and he prefers to distance himself from others, and it also all comes down to how he grew up in the coven and how he was raised by belos. like it's... SO interesting how they both do something so similar at its core but so differently.

[messed-up-little-driftwood]

let's talk about being mentally ill and living w the Driftwood/Firefly's cause I need the comfort (100% self indulgent):

Warnings: (mental illness depictions, mention of self-h4rm, mention of ED if you squint. gender neutral reader, lemme know if I missed any♡)

- Baby, who is actually really good abt it?? You've locked yourself in your room for the day? Well she's coming with you and you're having a Tim Burton marathon. Don't want to? That sucks; she's tying your ass down and peeling your eyelids open A Clockwork Orange style to force you to be distracted from your mind by discussing the Burton multi-verse with childish excitement. She's beside you in bed, hands on your arm, squeezing excitedly whenever she makes a connection, and even though you wish you could just sleep and disappear, her presence is impossible to ignore and be grumpy about.

- Not eating or refusing to???? Not in Mama's house you're not. She'll ziptie you to a chair and force-feed you your fav meal with the most loving, motherly care, mixed with a multitude of swearing like a trucker. If you refuse, get ready for the airplane: "vroom vroom motherfucker, open up" and "what, don't like the pasta?? here honey, have some pie instead" and "if you don't eat, I'm going to put Otis on feeding duty. and he will not be as patient as me".

- Self-harming?? NOPE, not on Tiny's watch. Tiny will lift you (he can. doesn't matter how big you are, he is bigger and stronger) to his room, sit you on the floor, and wordlessly drop crafting supplies and colouring pages on the floor. You're making a paper skeleton chain whether you like it or not with kiddie scissors that barely cut paper, and colouring with little washable markers that leave streaks. He'll pet your head too, to keep you focused should your mind get any alternative ideas. He'll also let you colour on him if you ask nicely:)

- You're curled up on the couch dissociating from the world? Rufus is a shit-disturber, and will start messing with you to bring you back. If you have long hair, he's pinching it between his fingers and pulling at it lightly. Sits in front of you and just. Stares. Until you're uncomfortable enough to say something rude, and then he's throwing you over his shoulder and yeeting your depressed ass in his truck for a ride. Maybe he'll stop at your fav food chain if he's in a good mood, while he makes you listen to some death metal band that's louder than the thoughts in your head and keeps you grounded. Definitely the type to call you 'little one'.

- In a non-verbal / nothing nice to say about yourself / 'don't talk to me or I'll bite you', mood? Otis is your boy. That's his state of being, and he also finds it relaxing when someone else is a spiteful grump like him; so he's more than happy to work on his artistry and have you listen to his musings and rambles. He'll like it even more if you vent a little (add fuel to the fire), and give him more juice to be angry at the world, increasing his motivation for his work. He's a fully grown angsty teenager — this man gets the rage, and enjoys your little venting sessions (and maybe you) even if he'd rather eat glass than say it out loud.

- Spaulding acts like nothing is any different. Little lighter on the teasing, but we know how he is, and he'll tell you to 'suck it up' and is outwardly brash and mean. BUT, he'll mess with Otis more and though he gets a kick out of it; it's a subtle way to give you even a small smile when Otis is all razzed up. Stirs the pot to cause drama like the meddler he is.

- Avoid Hugo at all costs. Will make things worse.

[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.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hi! wondered if i could request a Masky x Fem reader? Where the reader is injured because of something Masky did?

Ty if so! <3

~ Posion anon

Thank you so much for requesting!

TW: brief mentions of domestic violence ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masky with an injured fem!reader

This was probably the most heated argument you've had in a while with Tim

He came home pretty tired, and he didn't feel like putting his things away

Which you can understand, that's not the part that made you mad

The part that made you mad was when he began to take off his sweaty clothes in different areas of the house as he moved to your shared bedroom

One boot was by the door, the other by the couch, his shirt on the stairs and his pants tossed carelessly over his dresser

And then next morning as he was getting ready, he got mad at you for not getting his stuff together

Now, you love Tim and you are more than willing to help him out in his times of need

But you are not some sweet little houswife that will clean up all his messes

He is a fully grown man and he can start acting like one

So as he yelled and bantered about how you should've at least gotten his stuff together, and how he'll now have to work in sweaty, dirty clothes because you didn't wash them, you could feel your anger level rising higher and higher

Eventually you'd had enough and began to yell back, telling him if it mattered that much to him he could've done it himself

The argument continued to escalate until you were both just screaming at each other unintelligible style

You are starting to get tired of this, so you push him a bit just to move him out of the way

Immediately he punches you square in the face

You are thrown back, your hand going up to touch your now aching cheekbone

You look at him with a trembling lip and watery eyes, and you could tell that as soon as he'd done it he regretted it

His expression softens from an angry glare to a look of pure sadness as he comes to hug you

You let the tears fall and the sobs leave your lips

Tim rubs your back and kisses the top of your head "shit, baby I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, please forgive me" he whispers into your hair

You like the comfort, but he also just punched you in the face. As far as you're concerned, he can suck it

So you push him away and storm up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door and continuing to cry

Leaving a very panicked Tim on the first floor

He would've gone after you, and tried to concole you further but he had to go to work, lest he be punished by Slender fo being late

While at home, you went through a flury of emotions

Sadness, anger, doubt

You had hidden yourself under a blanket so you couldn't see any of Tim's belongings

The punch had now bruised over, making you cringe when you saw it in the reflection of your phone screen

Instead of being bothered by this any further, you decide to fall asleep

You were only awoken by the sound of heavy boots on the floor, coming up next to you and rubbing your covered back

You roll your eyes and flip open the covers, giving him a nasty glare

It breaks his heart to see you like this, especially when he notices the huge bruise

He sets a big bag of things on the bed and motions for you to open it

He got you your favorite restaurant's food, some snacks and a cute little teddy bear

You raise a brow and look at him

"You really think that food is gonna excuse you punching me?"

He shakes his head and sits with you "No, definetly not but I figured you still deserve something nice"

You scoff "get the fuck out"

He looks at you, shocked "Out?"

"Out." You say again

"Out where?" He stands and rubs his hands together nervously

"I don't care, just not around me." You state simply

Tim really doesn't want to leave you, especially right now

But he also doesn't want to make you more angry than you already are, so as he walks to the front door to go out somewhere he racks his brain for any possible solutions that could allow him to make it up to you

Let's just hope he figures it out soon....

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Random thing about Kevin Can F**k Himself is that while that's in no way the major or even intented reading of her characther and I love what she represents to woman as a trans man I related so much with Patty.

She was exactly who I was in high school. I was deeply closeted and represed and so I acted very much like a "not like the other girls pick me". Most of my friends were asshole guys who let me hang with them but never fully belong, I was there but still in a more subservient role and only at the cost of accepting the way they putted woman down and letting them put myself down. One of my high school "friends" would exclusivaly call me Mia Khalifa unless he was using other porn actresses names to put me down, I was not even engaging in what the guys saw as "slut behavior" as an ace guy with low romantic atraction but since I was seen as woman it was a way to keep me in my place. He would joke about how I should give things to him because he was the man but also I was the one all of them came for when they needed therapy.

Not all the guys were assholes. One of them - wjo unfortunally died this year and I don't actually want to talk much about him cause I'm processing my grief and don't want to - was genuinally kind and wanted to learn, he started transphobic and changed his views, I never came out to him, a thing I deeply regret, but he would defend queer ppl when the other guys were saying shit and never treated me like less.

But most of them were. And if I complained I lost my priviledges over being "one of the guys" and was seen as week and "oh yeah you're an emotional woman". So I kept there. I was the weird kid with few friends and not only that but I felt validated, I felt gender euphoria, it was the closest I would ever had to be one of the guys and I did feel jealous of one of them for looking a lot like me (according to everyone else) but having the body parts I wanted. It was the place I felt still shitty but not as much as everywhere else. And feeling less like crap was enought.

And I'm not this almost incel totally punching bag person anymore. All my friends are queer and I'm out to them now. I don't hate myself and I don't have to fake laugh or unconfortably nod about people putting woman down for an inch of acceptance. I don't think I could ever go back to being that person. But I was where Patty is. I was the token minority of entitled guys that think the world is a sitcom. And I feel so much for her.

Because in another world I could have been Patty, I could have not had the chance to grown out of it in high school and instead be still the sad subservient "woman" that is "one of the guys" and "can take jokes" and there's very few things worse than that.

[hello-nichya-here]

How do you feel about Monica and Richard's relationship? Do you think he was her soulmate instead of Chandler?

I think they were a pretty great, adorable couple (Richard trying to find a neurosis of his own to make Monica feel better about her OCD lives rent-free in my head), had a lot of things in common, did their best to work through their relationship issues and the actors had fantastic chemistry. Richard was THE perfect guy for Monica in my eyes... until I saw her fall in love with, date, and marry Chandler, her actual soulmate.

Now, I know a lot of people are creeped out not just by their 21 year age gap, and, more importantly, by the fact that Richard knew her since she was a child because was best friend's with her father (they even say they're like brothers, and at least here in Brazil she'd have absolutely grown up calling him UNCLE Richard).

However:

1 - They're not real, so who cares?

2 - I'm a degenerate and I'm into it.

3 - They did spend years without having any contact (to the point that he doesn't even recognize her at first) and it's very clear that Richard only ever started feeling attracted to her when she was an adult - and not in a "He was waiting to get on her pants the very second she turned 18" kind of way, but rather as "She's literally 27-years-old, she's been a fully grown, adult woman for a LONG time."

And even though Friends, like any sitcom, is known for having the characters in very unrealistic situations for the sake comedy, drama or both (and that's a feature, not a bug) the way Richard and Monica's age difference was handled was pretty realistic.

Monica clearly likes that Richard is this suave, cool older man - but unlike with the rich guy she dates after him, it's obvious that she actually does like him for who he is beyond the superficial stuff, and isn't just giving this relationship a shot because she wants to get married and have kids, and needs a guy to achieve that. I felt soooooo sad for Richard when he was feeling like "one of the guys" then Joey and Chandler let slip that they like hanging out with him because their DADS were not as cool, and Monica was super sweet to him after.

The entire episode of her parents finding out about them on her dad's birthday was freaking amazing, mainly because the writers took full advantage of literally every opportunity for a good joke. Monica is asked if she'll tell them that night, and replies with "Yeah, for my father's birthday I decided to give him a stroke." Their mother asks if they thanked Richard for the ride, innocently just acting like a mom making sure her kids are being polite to their father's friend, and Ross just says "I'm sure Monica thanked him for the both of us." And, of course, everyone awkwardly singing happy birthday right after they had a falling out.

And that episode was also an exemple of Friends, a show that both fairly and unfairly described as very sexist, actually being pretty ahead of it's time when it comes to pointing out the full on misogyny that people often give themselves permission to engage on the very second a girl dates someone much older.

All of the guys are talking about Richard banging a younger woman (that they don't know is Monica) in a really gross way, with her own father even comparing it to the time he bought a cool, expensive car to deal with his mid-life crisis, and, much to both Richard and Ross's horror, suggesting they trade for a day. Sure, it's painting Richard as at least a bit of a loser for dating a younger woman after a long marriage that ended in divorce, but they're still expecting him to brag about it, seeing it as something cool and worth envying him for, and quite literally treating the "mystery younger woman" as an object instead of a person that genuinely cares about him, and that he cares for as well.

The women at the party aren't any better either, making wild assumptions about how Monica is probably just a stupid slut with nothing to offer, and that maybe she's even ugly and the only reason Richard is into her is because she is "Just young enough that everything is still pointing up." They literally know nothing about her beyond "She's younger than him, met him after he got divorced and started dating him" and are all still acting in such a spiteful way that, hearing one of them talk without any context, people could easily assume something like "Oh, she was with Richard first, and this story about him meeting this younger girl after the divorce is bullshit. He met while he was still married, had an affair, filled for divorce, and now the ex-wife hates this girl"

Even Monica's own mother gets all condescending the second she hears her daughter say the word RELATIONSHIP. It all makes for great television because it's a conflict that is not at all forced, makes you really root for the characters' romance to last, and, again, the writers took ALL the opportunities to make jokes about it.

But more importantly, when it was time to make their age gap be the real why they broke up, they didn't do it by turning Monica into an immature moron that was not good enough for him, or retconning Richard's characterization to make him all condescending, arrogant and assuming he knows better just because he's older - or worse, adding a cheap twist that he actually IS a creep that only liked her because she was an adventure/trophy, would cruelly toss her aside the second he got bored, and that he had secretly been screwing younger girls all the time behind his ex-wife's back. NOPE! None of that.

Instead the writers did the smart thing and acknowledged that both Monica and Richard wanted to get married and have kids... but Richard already did it. He got married, had kids, had grandkids, and then got divorced. If he marries Monica now, even if she turns out to be the love of his life and his absolute soulmate he is simply not gonna do all of that again just for her sake, nor should he, because he is in a different state of life and just wants someone to grow old with. It would not be fair of Monica if she tried to force him to have kids again - and it would not be fair of Richard if he expected her to just skip a whole stage of life that she had been super excited for, all because HE already got to have it, enjoy it, and reach the stage where HE was done with it.

And sure, during the drama when Chandler is pretending he will never be interested in marriage and kids, just to surprise Monica with a proposal, they kind of retcon that a bit by having Richard say he regrets that decision and WANTS to have children with her, but I accept that writing choice because:

1 - Literally no one else could fit that role as Chandler's rivals for that storyline without it feeling completely, and it was one of highlights of the last seasons of Friends, aka part of why I'll defend said seasons forever despite the drop in quality.

2 - Richard doesn't seem to have had a truly serious relationship with anyone after Monica because he's clearly not over her, so the pain of seeing her happy with someone else could easily make him start seeing the absolutely correct, but still very difficult choice he made in the past look like THE biggest mistake of his life. When he hear of him later he is not becoming a dad again, so I'll just choose to headcanon that once he found the right person he realized he dodged a bullet when Monica chose Chandler.

3 - Monica did, in fact, choose Chandler. Over Richard. The guy he had been all insecure about, for good reason because Monica would have clearly married him if it wasn't for the not having kids thing, and they had lingering feelings for each other for a looooong time. Her being given the perfect chance to go back to him, and not doing so, is the best way to show to the audience that no, she's not just settling for Chandler because she couldn't have Richard.

4 - Chandler and Richard's talk in which Richard agrees that he already had his chance and that he needs to step aside now because what he is doing isn't fair, Chandler calls him a good guy, and Richard then brags about AND says he hates that is adorable and very funny.

So there you have it. Richard is not Monica's soulmate, but in an AU in which she never met Chandler, or in which they remained purely platonic forever, Richard would be the ONLY acceptable endgame for her because That. Storyline. Was. So. Fucking. Good.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

📓

For BNHA I have an All Might/Inko Fake Bitter Divorcees fic that I’m unreasonably fond of.

Effectively what happens is this:

Midoriya goes to the UA Entrance Exam

He has a new Quirk

He has never used this new Quirk in his fucking life

He cannot fucking tell people this fact

This is a foolproof plan nothing will go wrong this will all be FINE

Who’s this blonde boy clapping him on the back what do you mean his Quirk is that he steals Quirks oh fuck oh god wait no

A child

EXPLODES

In the UA entrance exam

(Yes I know Monoma can’t steal OFA because it’s a stockpile quirk but I planned this before they revealed that in canon so let’s all just pretend.)

In an act of stunning teamwork, Midoriya keeps Monoma from bleeding out, some random purple haired guy with a mind control Quirk keeps him calm, and Iida Tenya runs to kidnap Setsuna, a girl who canonically regrows limbs with her Quirk, which Midoriya knew because he met her earlier that day, from the recommendation entrance exam. They manage to keep Monoma alive and regrow his arm and are only slightly horribly traumatized.

The school won’t let them leave until their parents come get them for legal reasons.

THE PROBLEM:

Everyone knows that izukus quirk was the one that made Monoma explode

He didn’t HAVE a quirk this morning

No one here can know that fact

His mom doesn’t know he has a quirk and he CANNOT let her find out like this.

So he frantically texts all might begging him to come get him instead because he cannot tell his mom like this she will have a heart attack and die and he’ll be an orphan, leaving him to succumb to the fate of shonen protagonists everywhere.

Izuku: “you don’t have to call my mom my uh,” completely unrelated adult man who meets me after school every day without parental knowledge or permission because he told me not to tell anyone. you do NOT want to call the police on this man “dad is coming to get me.”

Aizawa: we already called your mom since she was your only emergency contact.

Izuku: ohgodohno.exe

Two parents show up for Izuku.

Izuku does not HAVE two parents.

His mom KNOWS this fact.

Aizawa, who met Small Might at a meeting: … so you must be Midoriya’s father

Toshinori, sweating: … yes

Inko, who knows this is not the father of her child: I—

Izuku: HI DAD

Izuku decides the only way out is through they just have to go with this. He manages to convince his mom through a combination of whispered pleas and facial expressions to not immediately raise the alarm but that combined with the sheer animosity radiating off inko convinces everyone that Inko and Small Might are extremely bitter divorcees who have given up trying to keep it together for the kid and are just fucking at each others throats.

Shinsou is just sort of sitting in the room feeling kind of awkward that he’s a part of this. They forgot he was there.

Inko: my son doesn’t have a quirk

Toshinori: well uh, dear, you know that my side has a history of late bloomers

Inko, with enough acid to dissolve the bones of a fully grown elephant: did I know that sweetheart? Or was I just expected to somehow know that when I walked into this room?

Toshinori: … at least he has his quirk now!

Inko: ONE THAT EXPLODES ARMS?

Toshinori: I’m certain it does other things too

Shinsou, also here: :o

Izuku leverages the awkwardness to dragging his “parents” away for a family meeting in the bathroom wherein 1) they all come clean about the entire OFA business and 2) they decide that they have to just commit to the story that Izuku is all mights child and inko is his angry ex wife because if anyone ever does find out about the connection between them “I inherited his Quirk because I’m his literal biological son” is a lot better for them all than “I inherited his Quirk because it’s a highly secretive transferable quirk from the dawn of superheroes that has grown to be the most powerful quirk in history that you may be able to have too if you torture me into giving it to you.”

Also Featuring:

Shinsou, plagued by knowledge of All Mights torrid family life, because he accidentally walked in on their family meeting while all might was still in his powered form. He did not want to know these secrets. He will not be sharing them. Please go away and let him go back to not knowing things.

Iida, Shinsou, and Izuku friendship pre UA accidentally discovering the past users way sooner because shinsous practicing his Quirk on Izuku and Izukus like “hey who are those eight shadowy figures who watch me from the dark when you use your quirk on me” and shinsous like “the fucking what.”

However they conclude that izukus obviously extremely haunted and has eight angry ghosts living in his bones that they must find a way to exorcise or appease. This is in no small part because the past users are hazing the newbie. It’s okay Iida is extremely productive they will start with exorcisms from all major religions and go from there

(Iida: well if you couldn't manage it here then I don't see what "going to the Vatican" will do--I, sir, sir. If you're going to be uncouth then I'm going to have to block your number. Sir you may tell the bishop whatever you please--I--good day sir *hanging up* the nerve of some people. The Catholic Church was a wash but I’ve made contact with a Taoist Fashi for the upcoming week)

Meanwhile Inko and All Might are trying to gaslight select people in their lives into believing they were married to each other when they absolutely were not married to each other. It has varying success.

[tragantia]

I used to wake up early. Go for a run, have a shower, prepare breakfast. And then I would head to Uni or to work, depending on what I was doing at the time, with the entire day ahead of me. But that is another life, belonging to a different person. I have changed, I think. More than any disease or any bite could have done, it's the world that's changed me. Not even killing has affected me more than the subtle ways in which the gears of life, of the world and its people, shift to suit their needs. I remain, in a way, like a child who has just discovered that there is evil in this world, and I may just be part of it. I wish the night sky would light my eyes as soon as I open them, as if someone had lit a thousand candles in front of an altar just for me. Far behind are the days of prayer, of going to mass at school, of wondering and of mysteries. The mysteries have faded into this neverending dusty road, like an oil spill.

It´s not the night sky what greets me when I open my eyes, but the roof of our stolen RV. The most recent one, that is. When I joined them, this gang, or clan, or whatever they are, I was told the norms were strict, but simple: you gotta kill to stay alive, you can't get caught no matter what, and you need to keep moving. And stay the fuck away from the sun. That´s why no light penetrates the windows of the RV: all have been covered with tape. This is part of the routine. We feed, we destroy the evidence, and then we keep moving, usually changing vehicles. I don´t check the time, I don´t want to wake anyone up. But my internal clock tells me it must be late afternoon or early evening. It's summer, so it´s not dark enough to go out yet, we still have a few hours to spare. Last night we managed to put some good distance between ourselves and the last place where we fed, a crappy roadside motel in the middle of the desert with only a handful of hosts. As if someone was going to miss them anyway. I sigh, looking at the rusty roof of the RV. This was the only option we had when we checked the cars parked next to the motel, everything else was too small for all of us. But the piece of shit has definitely seen better days.

I shift a bit, trying to get more comfortable, but a strong pair of large arms is keeping me locked against the chest of the one who bit me. Severen is all sorts of crazy, but he has been completely dedicated to me since he brought me into the pack. If something can be said about him, is that he is protective. Almost like a jealous, rabid dog. At first I thought it was only an act of territoriality, and sure, there is some of that, but then again there is a softness in his eyes that I can see only sometimes - when we laugh at something silly, or when he kisses me, or when he undresses me when we get some time alone. He's mostly an asshole, and a total flirt who chases anything than moves, but he is also the most loyal man I have ever known. And he can be sweet, and silly, and terrifying, and all of those at the same time. He makes me feel like a stupid schoolgirl infatuated with her first love, instead of a grown ass woman. The bastard. I'm such an idiot, I think, as he mumbles when I shift on his lap. He's still asleep, but pulls me closer to his chest. Thanks fuck our body temperature is basically as cold as the one of a dead body, otherwise I would be boiling. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent. Musk, leather, cigarettes, and the smell of sex from the previous night. Sweat. A hint of bourbon. I sigh, content. I'm so stupid, even his smell makes me feel safe. He pulls me closer to him, mumbling something incomprehensible in annoyance. I chuckle, turning around to kiss his jaw, and I feel him stirring under my weight, almost like a content feline. He locks his steel blue eyes with mine, now fully awake.

'Yore not goin' anywhare, baby', he mutters.

I smile, leaning into him.

'As if you were gonna let me, you shithead'

I hear him chuckle lowly with that silly cackle of his. I rest against his body, enjoying our closeness until it's time to get up. The night will bring its own terrors, but at least this moment is ours.

- - - - - - - -

This came out of nowhere! Not sure what to think about it yet. It doesn't even have a title. I just needed some comfort 🥴 it's done in first person as I needed that kind of connection. And obviously my religious imagery had to be there because why did I get traumatised in school otherwise 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ also haven't done any proofreading nor anything so BEWARE

[aintgonnatakethis]

#2, #8, #13, #14, #16, and #18 I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

Hey @thestorieswesay ❤️️ Sorry this is so late, but you better than anyone know what I'm like! 💀 Double apology that most of these answers are not SGU-related, but I've been on a movie binge recently. *rubs hands together*

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

Answered here, but tbh I struggle to sort characters into such rigid categories. I'll say Telford has a big preference for bottoming, to the point where in the kink series when Rush immediately tells him he doesn't want to get fucked, Telford's only potential pitfall is if it's because Rush views the act of bottoming as intrinsically degrading. When he decides that isn't the reason, then he's completely on board to never top, no further questions asked. (Also, I'm thinking this question would be better if it asked why your fave would never dom or sub 👀)

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

So I recently rewatched all the Alien films before the new one (which I didn't think was very good, but that's a discussion for a whole other post as I have a lot to say about it lol) Anyway, we have the Prometheus/Covenant reboot that unfortunately failed, which I speak briefly about here. Common fandom opinion is that Prometheus was bad, a lot of complaints about there not actually being any xenomorphs in it, blah blah blah.

But. It's a prequel. It describes where the xenomorphs came from, their evolution, etc. So of course they're not going to be in the movie all that much! 😡 The film offered a new spin to the franchise and I thought it was awesome. It had all the xenomorph lore and evolution information I could get my greedy little hands on! You don't need two dozen fully grown xenomorphs coming at you (and somehow you survive which kind of takes the danger thrill out of the rest of the movie 🙄) - Romulus - or chestbursters coming out through the spine instead in a generic horror movie body-jerking-around way - Covenant - to make a good horror movie. The alien franchise was never generic and that was what set it apart back when the originals were made.

13. worst blorboficiation

Sort of answered here with the SGU fandom often ignoring Young's and Rush's worse traits (though I definitely know that's not a problem you suffer from 😜)

For a fresh answer, let's return to the alien movies Prometheus/Covenant. In them, there's an android called David (played by Michael Fassbender 🤤) - he's an evil boy, mad scientist type, villain with a legit reason to be pissed, all good stuff! But he's not Magento-evil where everything he does is completely understandable. David is EVIL evil. He's going around impregnating people with alien fetuses and cutting people up while they're still alive and swallowing alien embryos to later vomit back up once he's through the detection system… And the fandom… Bros. Buddies. Pals. Chaps. You want to make him soft and lovey-dovey and reader-insert where you're the only one capable of changing him? Idk man… Let him be evil. As a treat.

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

Worked my way through all the X-Men movies too, and it's nice to be in a fandom where there's an abundance of fanfic as opposed to having to produce the majority of it myself or just live with there not being much if any new material because it's an older/not as popular series. But I see a lot of X-Men: First Class fics having Erik being dominant in bed and I… 😂 Well, that guy has a telepathy kink a mile wide and it's a crime there's not more fic of him being the sub he's so obviously desperate to be!

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Crossing SGU over with OUAT, in order to ship Belle with Rush. ...Well, I can understand, because the reason they're doing it is to paste themselves onto Belle so they can fuck Rush, but I don't get it. 15% of SGU fics on AO3 are OUAT crossovers 😑

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

I feel like you're say-the-line-Bart-ing me 😂

choose violence ask game

[alexoreality]

About Hobie and Luffy....do you have headcanons to this couple? I need fluffy, angst, romamce...anything

Spider Rebellion (credits to @aenbyveryverygayperson for the ship name)

Headcannons! And how they first met

Just like many other spider people, Luffy was invited into the Society of Spiders

He hasn't been there as long as the others but he was there longer than Gwen or Peter B.

Which was saying something

"I know I know! You're probably already tired from hearing this, but lets do it one more time. Hi, I'm Monkey D. Luffy! And behind this mask, I won't declare my dreams. I was bit by a radioactive spider and got more powers, and for the last 5 years; I've been the Grandline's one and only.. Spider-man. You know the rest"

Timeskip, he meets Miles and takes him under his wing because A. Miles deserves to have a chance to save his father and B. He is still a young teen, he doesn't deserve to give a wake up call to a fully-grown adult man.

He absolutely loves sharing stories about the grandline and such, but no one NO ONE knows who he is. Who is behind the mask of this spiderman!

No one knows he's a pirate captain too.

So Miguel kinda takes advantage of it and spills his entire story to the Society. But it doesn't work.

Luffy's notorious for being the most friendly and capable spider person in the Society. Helping others through their own struggles since they happened to have given him some food.

When they saw his story, his rebellion, his gathering of his pirate crew... the way he swings from building to building and gets to his anchored ship. To see his peacefully sleeping crew. Seeing him burn down an authority flag down for his friend. Seeing him do the impossible like any spider man would for their world.

"Justice is blind, not heartless" was his lesson.

Hobie was in love the moment he saw the flag burn down. The moment Luffy didn't even flinch when the government did

The main reason why Luffy's abilities are so importsnt to his canon's stability is because he is also a D. And D's chsnge their surroundings for the better or for the worse

He can control his canon. What he wants or doesn't want to happen? His canon listens. Only if he truly wants it to happen.

Hobie doesn't like the fact he wss going to be chained down by love, something socoety weaved and portrsyed as something amazing. He started to act cold and distant towards Luffy

Spider Society starts to give Hobie more side eyes for not liking Luffy

But Luffy? Luffy understands it, Luffy understands it. Because he understands the value of freedom for Hobie and for himself

Once they get Miguel 'back to his universe' Luffy deals with Miguel.

Like literally

Poor Hobie gets a gay panic.

The romance starts when Luffy suddenly becomes Hobie's canon as he now starts to bleed to death from a battle that was meant to be Hobie's, not to mention, they hsd a genuine fight

Luffy really thought he was gonna die before comfessing but maybe that was kinder, nicer of the verse to do instead of making Hobie even more disgusted by him

[maythevoidnotscreamback]

Story Idea: Sailor Moon Season Mashup

I just had an idea I've got to share and hopefully inspire someone to write. An aged-up season mashup where the first season and the latter half of the second come together.

Basically, when the Nijizuishou Arc is happening Usa and the others are in their early to mid twenties. Usa and Mamo are pining for each other but don't want to act on their feelings because they don't want to endanger each other in the event their identities are found out so they make the best of their situation by getting together with their partner-in-youma-fighting/not-quite-ally-or-enemy because at least if they're discovered as being together they know they can protect themselves.

And then, the Reveal.

It's during the time of Mamo's conversion, Usa doesn't know if he's dead or alive and depressed that the man she's been pining for and wanting to be with is also the man she's unknowingly been with because she didn't know she could be with him, that a strange little girl with hair in a familiar style lands in Usa's lap while at the park for some fresh air. And to get away from her well meaning friends' smothering. Said little girl is stunned that she's landed in the lap of someone who looks so much like her Mama that she just starts crying and apologizing. It's all her fault after all. Usa gets her calmed down before taking her home, she's been SM for a while now and whatever instincts she's honed however long are telling her to not let the girl go off alone. That she's important and she needs protection and, depression over her lost love or not, she's gonna give it to her, damn it!

I think you see where I'm going with this. Instead of the 'breakup' that happened in the second half of the 90s R season it's that Mamo is Dendy when Chibi makes her appearance. Diamond wants Serenity, as always, and, what joy of joys, they've come to a past in which the King has married a different Queen (obviously he hasn't but the minds of the obsessed work in mysterious ways in order to fit reality into their narrative). And lo and behold, because Diamond knew the King was only in it for the power she could wield, the Senshi are fighting against the King, not with him because he wants the Ginzuishou for his 'new' Queen; Diamond's ecstatic. Because it means Serenity's his for the taking. No marital vows of fidelity. No spawn that man planted in her beautiful body to trap her into marrying him in the first place. She probably hasn't even been tasted yet, never known the pleasures of a woman fully grown. But he wouldn't mind being the one to teach her. No, no, he'd do so gleefully.

Thing is, despite the many precautions that SM and TK took whenever they were intimate, Time will always try to find a way to keep the future it wants to happen preserved, even if it doesn't happen the way it should. Usa is, unknowingly for now, pregnant when Mamo's kidnapped. The Key is acting as a shield, not that Chibi knows that yet, against the Law that says "Past and Future must not be in the same space for long." It's keeping Chibi's presence from affecting her Past self while being in said Past.

But now, the Senshi are being run ragged because they're being attacked on two fronts because a surprise second enemy faction came out of the woodwork, they're not gonna ally with people trying to hurt/kill a child, while they were still fighting against their first while also trying to make money at their jobs and keep a surprise child fed, clothed and safe from said second enemy faction. Usa's not gonna let her family be targeted, even if she has to claim of secretly being a teen mother who recently, finally, got her baby back; being an adult in this AU Usa can't help but act like the Mama she's claiming to be to Chibi. It's feels scarily easy, she tells the others, there just seems to be a connection she can't ignore, and she doesn't want to. Then there's how certain Shittenou are being weirdly protective of certain Senshi (you figure out how to justify not killing them off) when the Ayakashi Sisters try to nab them time and again, and said certain Senshi gets frantic returning the favor (you choose whether the sisters are saved like in the 90s anime or not and too whether any of the Travelers know about the Shittenou in their time or if they just don't exist as an AU timesplit) when the Ayakashi sisters try to kill them for interfering which they don't understand why! They're the enemy! ...Aren't they? Not to mention the hullabaloo caused by the miracle worker Dr. Chiba going missing so suddenly even though there are multiple people calling in saying they've seen him here and there but it's just Endou. And poor Chibi, unknowing she's Found Out and Realized, can't seem to stand letting Usa out of her sight if she can help it. (She really is Mama! She's alright and not sleeping, maybe dying, in a Crystal Tomb because she was a bad girl playing with something that wasn't hers.) Clings to SM whenever she saves her and only tends to let go when she mentions getting her to her Mama. Crying silently whenever she gets a glimpse of TK when she's near the battlefield and trembling like she's holding herself back from... something whenever she sees Endou on the street. (She wants her Papa to hold and comfort her, he claimed time and again that there's nothing in the world to keep him from loving her Mama and she wants to know why?! Why did he lie?!)

You can choose whether or not the BMC and the DK ally with one another and actually try to help keep Usa and Mamo apart or try to make them properly fight against each other, but ultimately (obviously) fail, or go the route of Ail and An in trying to kill the one in order to have the other, making excuses to keep the other sweet when they fail, and damn the feelings of the one who's obsession is killed because they have what they want. And/or Metallia and Wiseman team up in the background while the two fools who act as their respective puppet leader get destroyed alongside the Senshi they're fighting against while their own plans come to some form of fruition.