#nothing new has died though so that good

[iloveschiaparelli]

Maybe I'll do a mass-propogation of the spiderplants and have a spiderplant army what do you guys think

[musclesandhammering]

Unpopular opinion: I don’t want og!Loki to be in Valhalla after Thanos killed him, I want him to be the new ruler of Hel.

[nataliedecorsair]

I wanted to give you some of Pticenoga's Borderlands AU backstory, how she was raised by Shade and before starting her shenanigans with Vaughn.

Plus a bonus comic about how she decided to set up a meeting for Vaughn and Shade, but didn't tell Vaughn who is supposed to be there x) Mostly because Vaughn has met Shade before in his macabre World of Curiosities museum and thought that Shade is too weird for him. Well, that's the kind of person that would raise a feral harpy siren, gotta deal with it!

When she was very young, nothing bothered her much as she was just a wild baby exploring the world x) And Shade was a good father figure to her. However, as she grew older, she realized that she doesn't really "fit in": yeah, Pandora is a crazy planet, but not every person there is crazy. There are plenty of "regular folk" like Shade or other people from their town - and many others. And she was frequently called a monster, a mutant and many other things by the regular kids and even adults. She was wild though, could bite them or fight with them in a pretty feral manner, and, even though she protected herself, it didn't help the situation much. She wasn't crazy enough (and too small) to fit in with the psychos or bandits, was "too human" for actual monsters living on Pandora, and for a long time she had no idea she was a Siren, as even for Sirens she looked too different. Only when she hit her teens, she was able to confirm that she is one, started using her powers, and in her human form she could see the full extension of the glowing pattern she had on her skin. She still, however, didn't know why she wasn't born "normal", and there were no older Sirens around.

At some point, she decided to become independent and live on her own. Her "wild" upbringing was helping that a lot, and she felt fine being away from people. She'd still visit Shade frequently, of course, and at some point she'd even met Zer0 and could hang out with him for some time. As Zer0 is a mystery himself, they had some common ground between them (though constantly listening to his haiku were exhausting xD). Sadly, Vault Hunters attract attention, not always positive, and that was the reason why she got spotted by a big bandit gang (could be the beginning of Vallory's gang, but before she took over). And local scientists like Tannis already declared that there may be some connection between Sirens and the Vaults. And they noticed that she's a Siren, but also pretty young (and dumb). After the first Vault on Pandora was opened, there was plenty of weird and valuable stuff around, but it wasn't so easy to get it when you're just regular bandits. And when Eridians, the aliens that are guarding the Vault, are everywhere. The Sirens like Lilith were too strong for them, and hiring a Vault Hunter is expensive, so they decided to wriggle into her favor and use her to gain access to the area. She didn't know she was dealing with bandits first, she naively thought it's a rare case of nice fellows just wanting to be friends and such, plus the Vault could have answers about her origin, and the new "friends" confirmed it.

At some point, she realized she was being used, and got into a fight with the bandits - and lost, as there were too many of them, and she had too little experience, and they knew about Shade. She got kidnapped and told that she'd do everything they told her to do, or they'd kill Shade, so she had to obey. She helped them to fight the way to the Vault and get some of the riches, and during the process she felt that she really does have a connection with Eridians - they boosted her powers and helped her to get free, and kill every presenting member of the gang. She was worried about Shade though, so she left immediately to find him before the remaining members found out what happened and could harm him. But she was too late - the water source in their town of Oasis was poisoned, and every single person there died. Except Shade though - he lasted longer, but dehydration made him insane, and he turned corpses into the stuffed dummies he could talk to (though she didn't have much of a problem with this part). As she was gone for at least several months, he didn't believe she's real, and she had to adapt to the new reality.

She never got back to the Vault after that as she felt it was a source of more trouble than anything good (in her view, the price was too much for a bunch of physical stuff).

That lasted for years, and became a bit easier as her powers, enhanced by the Eridians, wasn't only serving the destruction,  but could eventually "heal" some part of Shade's mind, so the moments of clarity became more frequent (she didn't know it's the reason, though). And you still need money, whether you like it or not, so, when Shade decided to use his World of Curiosities as a spot of illegal deals and smuggling, she didn't resist, but would watch over him in the shadows in case something goes wrong.

Eventually, she calmed down and just embraced herself. And, after some time, she met Vaughn, whose personal struggles she could sense right away, as she had to experience "being different" herself.

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[milo-is-rambling]

I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks. 

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left. 

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident. 

You keep waiting for that phone call. 

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home. 

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear. 

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse. 

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha. 

You hate it. 

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence. 

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere. 

Still...it smells fishy to you. 

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent. 

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast. 

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like. 

It makes you physically ill. 

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments. 

Some of those moments with Simon. 

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side. 

Your heat. 

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot. 

It makes you sick. 

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again. 

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid. 

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough. 

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out. 

You can’t trust Simon to help you. 

You’re not even sure he knows how to. 

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death? 

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list. 

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy. 

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him. 

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently. 

You can’t. 

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control. 

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges. 

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other. 

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax. 

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it. 

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks. 

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think. 

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says. 

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has. 

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment. 

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again. 

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.” 

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike. 

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine. 

You’re afraid for a different reason now. 

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle. 

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening. 

“What’s goin’ on in here?” 

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega. 

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again. 

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says. 

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.” 

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.” 

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.” 

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently. 

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks. 

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.” 

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.” 

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.” 

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety. 

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you. 

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust. 

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash. 

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen. 

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head. 

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower. 

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you. 

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back. 

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.” 

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on. 

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress. 

Four weeks. 

A month. 

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better. 

There’s been no contact. 

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming. 

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him. 

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away. 

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze. 

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything. 

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone. 

You want your alpha. 

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him. 

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world. 

You miss them so much it hurts. 

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering. 

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking. 

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off. 

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.” 

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers. 

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.” 

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.” 

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity. 

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side. 

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware. 

You’re hungry. 

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist. 

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep. 

“I’m hungry.” You whisper. 

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.” 

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out. 

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp. 

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge. 

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning. 

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.” 

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.” 

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone. 

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag. 

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.” 

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no. 

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says. 

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. 

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.” 

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time. 

You’re going to have to do this alone. 

Well...perhaps not. 

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all. 

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity. 

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again. 

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know. 

What if he says yes?  

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet. 

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?” 

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands. 

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?” 

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room. 

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state. 

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger. 

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future. 

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake. 

“No.” 

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful. 

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.” 

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over. 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face. 

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him. 

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself. 

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin. 

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger. 

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones. 

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.” 

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this. 

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under. 

You want to remember his voice when you come back out. 

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort. 

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms. 

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience. 

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead. 

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released. 

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what. 

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?” 

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.” 

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark. 

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes. 

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around. 

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV. 

“Not my favorite.” He admits. 

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.” 

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it. 

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation. 

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong. 

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days. 

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse. 

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat. 

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center. 

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head. 

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone. 

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing. 

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV. 

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.” 

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head. 

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more. 

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.” 

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before. 

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long. 

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe. 

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now. 

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware. 

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap. 

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.” 

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way. 

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him. 

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever. 

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge. 

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.  

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him. 

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone. 

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.” 

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now. 

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?” 

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality. 

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach. 

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.” 

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket. 

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries. 

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand. 

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.” 

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze. 

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips. 

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his. 

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes. 

She is smart. He’ll give her that. 

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his. 

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it. 

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything. 

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.” 

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made. 

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up. 

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway. 

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.” 

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory. 

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise. 

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says. 

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state. 

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door. 

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book. 

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.” 

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him. 

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally. 

He hates it. 

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.” 

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room. 

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it. 

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know. 

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes. 

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep. 

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much. 

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears. 

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.” 

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this. 

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak. 

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.” 

NEXT ->

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[thetriumphantpanda]

new religion | joel miller

Summary | Joel's never much been a religious man, but if he were, he'd ask the Lord what he'd ever done to deserve you.

Pairing | Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.5k

Warnings | Explicit. Religious imagery, basically porn without plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, dirty talk, Joel worshipping you like you deserve, nothing bad happens to him ever and he dies peacefully in his sleep at age 101, no use of y/n. Written and edited on phone so please excuse any mistakes.

Authors Note | God bless hbo for that teaser am I right? I just want Jackson Joel to always find peace. Also thanks to All Time Low and their song New Religion for the Inspo. I hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi 

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

I found God and we found heaven, On the bedroom floor.

Joel Miller isn’t sure how he got here. Knees creaking and painful, a dull ache in his back that never goes away, and years behind him that have led him to right now.

Years of being closed off, scared to open up to anyone in case he failed them as well. Years of using his anger at himself to reign terror on others. Years with Tommy that were strained, years with Tess that were less so, even good sometimes, and now years with Ellie, good, bad and everything in between. The relative safety of Jackson was unsettling, after years of fighting to survive and barely making it, scars on his body testimony to that, the normality was unsettling.

He’s getting used to it though, slowly but surely, and he thinks that along with his brother and Ellie, it has something to do with you.

You, stood in front of him, backlit by the setting sun, nude and waiting, whilst he kneels in front of you. Pained be damned, he’s going to worship you like the goddess you are.

Tommy has spent the past year absolutely rinsing his older brother for this. When Joel and Ellie had arrived back, he’d made it his mission to set Joel up with one of the many fawning ladies available. There was Esther, who was nice enough, and Lindsey who had been far too forthcoming, and others that Joel would rather not remember, telling Tommy that he didn’t need anyone, didn’t want anyone, was more than happy on his own.

Then he’d met you, sunshine to his clouds, sharp, quick-witted and funny. A take-no-shit kind of gal that had gotten under his skin more than he cared to admit. The first few times it was quick, fumbles in the alley behind the tipsy bison, or hurried moments bent over the dusty couch at the lookout on patrol, convincing himself that once again this was nothing but stress relief.

Then things changed, you started making him laugh, started sitting on his porch with him, laying on his couch whilst he played his guitar, and then he started spreading you out on his bed, started taking his time, learning what made you respond best, how you liked it, how you clenched so tight around him when he clasped your fingers in his and pounded you into the mattress.

Joel has never been much of a religious man, not since the end of the world, but he thinks, right here on your bedroom floor, that he’s found God. When you walk towards him and run your hands through his greying hair, tilt his chin up so he’s looking at you, hands on your hips like you’re his altar.

He brings his face closer to you, tongue licking through your folds as you stand before him. Your fingers tighten in his hair when the tip of his tongue finds your clit, your own head tipping back, face to the real Lord if he exists, muttering his name over and over in your own twisted prayer.

His jeans are tightening as he licks at you, the sounds you make doing what they always do, shooting straight to his cock. It’s why he can’t quit this, even if in the back of his mind he knows he probably should. You’re younger than him, though not scandalously, and he can feel that the years of his prime are fading the more comfortable he gets here. He knows that wanting you as much as he does is a sin in itself, but walking away? That somehow seems worse to him. He finally wants to be selfish, to think of himself and his own happiness for once, and it’s the taste of you on his tongue when he drags it down to where you’re leaking for him that convinces him he has to stay.

“Oh, Joel,” You whimper, knees shaking, “Keep going.”

“Ain’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere, pretty girl.” He groans into your pussy, his big hands holding your hips in place to keep you upright as his tongue drags back up from your fluttering hole to your clit.

You widen your stance a little, spreading the lips of your cunt for him so he can fuse his mouth over your clit, suckling at it whilst his tongue works against the swollen bud in the way that he knows will have you tipped over the edge in no time.

He loves when you come for him. A reminder that he’s still got it, that he can learn your ins and outs and keep you satisfied, even at his age. He has to press his fingers into your hips a little tighter when you do come for him, keeping you upright before you knees can buckle underneath you as you cry his name out into the darkening room. Pulling his mouth away from you before you start whimpering that it’s too much.

Normally he’d pull you over to the bed, but there’s something in him tonight that means he can’t wait the extra seconds, so he’s pulling you down onto the floor with him, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands so you don’t hit in on the wood as he crawls on top of you, legs spread wide for his thighs as he pops the buttons of his jeans and drags the zipper down.

He’s in too much of a rush to undress properly, pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. You’re reaching down, taking his length in your hand, dragging it up and down as he pulls his shirt over his head.

There are tiny droplets of sweat across your forehead, the open window and the breeze no match for the heat in the room, and he doesn’t know why he does it, but as he leans down, your hand guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he lets his lips kiss across your forehead, like it’s holy water and he’s being reborn as he slips into your tight heat.

He doesn’t think he’s heard a sweeter sound than the ones he hears from you as he drags his cock in and out of your pussy. Gasps and whines and whimpers, never too loud, like they’re just for him. No-one else needs to know how good he makes you feel, just him. He presses his mouth to yours as he grips your wrists, pinning them to floor, swallowing your sounds as he fucks you.

Joel knows that it takes him a little longer these days, knows from the way you’re squirming that the ache in your hips is setting in. He knows that your body aches the same as his does, that your back aches and your knees hurt after a long patrol, but you’re being so good for him.

“Such a good girl,” He coos into your ear, “Y’can take it, can’t you?”

You arch your body up into him at his praise, “It’s so good,” You moan, your hands reaching behind him to sink your nails into the meat of his ass, “Harder, please.”

He can never deny you, so he pushes himself up, takes your knees in his hands and presses them down towards your chest, hooking his arms there to keep you spread open as he guides his cock back into you. He can feel his own sweat appearing across his skin as he does exactly what you asked for, he fucks you harder, as hard as he can, listening to the squeals you make as he bottoms out inside you and the slapping of his skin against yours.

“M’close,” He moans at you, “M’gonna come, baby.”

“Please,” You groan back, squirming underneath him, “Come for me Joel, please.”

And he does, pulling out at the very last minute, letting go of your legs to pump his cock with his fist before he comes, splashing his spend across your belly as he tips his head back and praises the Lord for you.

He knows he will pay for it tomorrow, but he collapses onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his chest. He can feel the sticky cum mixing with the hair across his stomach, but he doesn’t much care, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you settle together on the cool ground. His fingers trail up and down your spine as you lie together in the quiet of the early evening, finding peace with it all for once. After years and years of being on his own, of being scared to open up and let someone in, he finds he doesn’t much mind the thought of it anymore.

And above all, whether he makes it to the real thing or not when his time is up, that he’s found heaven, right here on your bedroom floor.

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve part three

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] will meets some more important people, and has his first day of school. it doesn't go as planned, and r doubts her abilities to be will's guardian. angst. fluff. kidfic. enjoy :)

—

There were a few inevitable things in life. Much to Will’s dismay, school happened to be one of them. Another was that when María León wanted something to happen, it was happening. So, the night before Will was due to start school, you and Alexia finally gave in to Mapi’s pleading, and invited her and Ingrid over for dinner to meet Will. It would be a good distraction if nothing else, and you knew Will would like Mapi, as most kids did. 

It had been a nice, slow day. Will and Alexia both seemed exhausted, and you caught them passed out on the couch together napping, while a history documentary on dinosaurs played on the tv. Will was curled up against Alexia, and you must have stopped and sat there to watch them for at least 10 minutes. Alexia had taken to this… ‘parent’ thing so much easier than you had, and it simultaneously made your heart burst and hurt. It was easy for her, but it wasn’t for you. 

Will was, as was becoming a theme, a bit nervous to meet Mapi and Ingrid, but they broke the ice easily. Mapi entered with a loud ‘hola!” carrying with her an entire kid’s bike. It was black and green, with a spikey helmet hanging off the handlebars. You and Alexia stood, slack jawed, as she wheeled it into the house with a proud look on her face. Ingrid came in behind her, smiling amusedly at her girlfriend. 

“I told her a bike was too much.” She commented, but Mapi just waved her off. 

“No! Nothing is too much, right, Will?” Mapi replied. She spoke in English, enunciating to make sure your nephew understood her. Will peeked out from behind your legs, looking at Mapi, then at Ingrid, then at the bike. He pulled on the hem of your shirt rather frantically, so you scooped him up into your arms as Alexia inspected his new bike, and Mapi demonstrated how the bell on the handlebars worked… several times. 

“Tia, I can’t ride a bike.” Will whispered in your ear, panicked as though you were going to throw him onto the bike and send him on his way. You kissed the side of his head, smiling fondly at him. 

“That's alright, bud. Ale and I can teach you.” 

Will looked relieved, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. “Don-don’t tell them I don’t know how, okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, setting him back on the floor and ruffling his hair. 

Alexia had removed the bell off the bike and put it into her pocket, while Mapi was now practically climbing onto her to try to get it back. 

“That is Will’s,” Mapi scolded, holding on tight as Alexia tried to shake the defender off her back. 

“Then stop playing with it.” Alexia threw back, only stopping their faux argument when she saw the confused look on Will’s face. “Will, cariño, it’s okay. We are just joking around.” 

Mapi slid off your girlfriend, mumbling something under her breath that made Ingrid frown. 

With the commotion died down slightly, you nudged Will forward a step, encouraging him to execute what he’d practiced. He took a deep breath, his eyes trained on the wood floor under his feet, but he spoke all the same. 

“Hola. I’m Will.” He said softly. You and Alexia grinned at him proudly, knowing how much he’d wanted his greeting to be perfect. 

Ingrid and Mapi both bent down, gentle smiles on their faces. “Hola, Will. I’m Mapi.” 

“And I’m Ingrid.” 

Will studied them for a moment, decided he wasn’t sure what else to stay, and moved to hide behind Alexia’s legs. Ingrid and Mapi didn’t try to coax him back out or ask him a billion questions. Instead, they straightened up and allowed you to gesture them into the living room. 

Alexia waited a moment, before turning and crouching down in front of Will. 

“Good job! You said ‘Hola’ better than Mapi does.” 

Will smiled happily at her, haphazardly pushing his hair out of his face and then high fiving Alexia’s outstretched hand. Will felt as though the hardest part of the evening was over, especially because you’d promised him he wouldn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to, once he’d said hello. 

Hand in hand with Alexia, he followed her into the living room, a very proud look on his little face. 

—

Ingrid took a seat on the floor next to Will, accepting the small race car he wordlessly handed her. Will was a shy kid, but shy didn’t even begin to cover the level of quiet he seemed to be around Ingrid, barely even looking at her all through dinner. While he laughed and talked with Mapi, his face flushed red every time Ingrid addressed him. Now, though, it was just the two of them as Mapi helped you and Alexia clean up in the kitchen, and that seemed to help, just a little bit. 

“I hear you are starting school tomorrow.” Ingrid said casually, noticing immediately that Will’s shoulders slumped a bit at the mention of school. 

“Yeah.” He mumbled, not raising his gaze from his race track. 

“Are you excited? Or nervous?” 

Will fiddled with his toy car, peeking up at the Norwegian for just a second before looking away. Then, he shrugged.

 “Nervous.” He whispered finally. 

Ingrid hummed, thinking. “Want to know a secret?” 

This time, Will made eye contact with her, holding it for a second as he nodded cautiously. 

“When I moved here to Barcelona to play football, I did not know any Spanish. I was so nervous and so scared because I was afraid I would not understand anything anyone said. It was a really hard change.” 

Will’s eyes were wide as he stared up at Ingrid in wonder, apparently shocked that grown ups could feel the way he was feeling, too. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Ingrid confirmed. “But I did it, even though it was hard and scary.” 

“How?”

“Well, everyone was very nice to me, just like they’ll be nice to you at school. And whenever I did not understand something, I made sure to ask someone for help. It took a little bit, but I learned to understand Spanish, and I made friends with the girls on the team, and it wasn’t scary anymore. I just had to be a little brave at first.” 

“I don’t think I’m a brave boy.” Will whispered in response, eyes fixed on the ground in front of him as he tried not to cry. 

Ingrid just shook her head, though, resting her hand on the top of his head. “No, Will, I think you are very brave. Your Tia tells us all the time how brave you are.”

“She does?” Will’s head snapped up. 

Ingrid nodded, smiling at the both shy and thrilled look on the small boy’s face. “You just have to keep being brave tomorrow, and everything will go fine. Do you think you can do that?” 

Will nodded his head rapidly, chest puffing out a bit with pride at hearing how many people thought he was brave. 

Just then, you stepped into the room, smiling gratefully at Ingrid. “I don’t think anyone here wants dessert, right?” 

Will shot up from his spot on the carpet, charging over to you and crashing into your legs. “I do, Tia, I do!” 

You pretended not to hear him, keeping your eyes on Ingrid instead. “I don’t know where Will went, but I don’t think he wants dessert?” 

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think he does.” 

Will huffed his annoyance, both his hands grabbing yours and pulling on them unrelentingly. “Tia! I’m right here! I want dessert!” 

You looked down at him, then, scooping him up into your arms and pressing kisses all over his face. “Alright, Willosaurus, let’s get you some vegetables for dessert.” 

Will groaned dramatically, ragdolling in your arms as you laughed, carrying him into the kitchen. Ingrid followed close behind, a very fond smile on her face. You’d spoken to her a few times about feeling like you weren’t doing well with Will, about how you weren’t cut out to raise a child. Now that she’d seen you with him, she was even more convinced you were wrong. Will didn’t belong anywhere else but with you. 

—

Will stood, staring up at the school building in front of him with nothing but apprehension in his eyes. His hand held yours tightly, even as the other students streamed into the school talking loudly amongst themselves in rapid Spanish. 

“Ready, buddy?” You asked, crouching down next to him and straightening his shirt. 

“I don’t want to, Tia.” He whispered back, the look on his face beyond pleading. 

The worst part was that you knew exactly how he was feeling. You’d spent much of your childhood being shuffled around different homes, and with each one came a new school. There was nothing worse than a first day at a new school, nothing worse than not knowing who anyone was and feeling eyes on you all day as you tried to acclimate yourself. 

“I know you don’t. But you’re going to be so brave for me, and you’re going to have so much fun and make friends and learn new things. Okay?” 

Will nodded shakily, though he looked very far from convinced. Alexia crouched down on his other side, fixing his hair with her hand before speaking. 

“You are going to do great, cariño. And we will be back to pick you up right when it is over.” 

“Promise?”

“We promise.” You replied, pulling him into your arms and kissing the top of his head. Once you let him go, he turned to Alexia, hugging her as well. She whispered something in his ear that made him giggle despite himself, and you could have cried seeing a smile on his face for the first time all morning. 

With a gentle nudge, he began walking over to his teacher, a very nice woman who’d had Will come in to meet her and see the classroom a few days prior, after school let out so Will wasn’t overwhelmed by the other students. She greeted him warmly, directing him to the line of other 5 year olds, all looking bigger than your nephew. Will was small, but he looked completely dwarfed by the other kids in his class, his anxious gaze flickering back to you every few seconds. 

“Come on, it is better if we go.” Alexia murmured, waving one more time at will before turning. 

“What did you say to him?” You wondered, intertwining your fingers with Alexia’s as she led you back to the car. 

She grinned mischievously. “That we can get ice cream after school.” 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “You’re spoiling him.” 

“No.” Alexia disagreed. “I am showing him how much we care.” 

There wasn’t much you could say to that. Instead, you slowed down and turned, craning your neck to see if you could still spot your nephew. 

“He’ll be okay, amor.” Alexia promised, pulling on your hand. “We have to go, or we will be late for training.” 

You knew she was right, yet you still stopped at the driver’s side of the car, weakly pulling at your girlfriend’s hand. “Ale?” 

She turned to look at you, a sympathetic smile on her face. 

“Can I have a hug?” You asked quietly, heat rushing to your cheeks at the question. 

“Of course you can.” Alexia replied, opening her arms for you to collapse into. You buried your face into the soft fabric of her sweatshirt, winding your arms around her and squeezing. She squeezed right back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” 

—

Will hated school. Well, he wasn’t supposed to say he hated things. He didn’t like school. 

He didn’t like that almost all the other kids in his class were taller than him. He didn’t like that they all spoke Spanish so fast he had no idea what they were saying. He didn’t like that his teacher seemed to teach only in Spanish, even though he’d known that was going to be the case, [it was the fastest way for him to learn, or so you’d told him]. He didn’t like that the loud boys in the class hogged all the dinosaur figurines during playtime, and he didn’t like that he forgot the Spanish word for bathroom and had to ask to go in English in front of the whole class. They’d all giggled at him, hearing him speak for the first time, and he’d felt his face flush red and his eyes well with tears as he left the classroom. 

He didn’t like school. Most of all, he didn’t like that you were gone, and he had no way of knowing if you’d come back for him. The last time he’d been left at school… Well, he didn’t want to think about that. But the churning feeling in his tummy only continued as he imagined himself waiting outside for you to come get him as all the other kids got picked up, until he was the last one, and he knew you weren’t coming. 

You were his Tia, not his Mommy, and he wasn’t quite sure if that meant you had to come get him. Even if you and Alexia had promised. His Daddy had promised, too. 

And in the end, that hadn’t meant anything.

Will’s hands trembled as he unhooked his backpack from his cubby and pulled the straps over his shoulders. As relieved as he was to finally be done with the school day, he was beyond terrified to go outside. What if you weren’t there to get him? What if Alexia wasn’t either? He felt like he was reliving the worst day of his life, and if he walked outside and you weren’t there, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. What happened to kids in Spain with no parents and no Tia that wanted them? 

He walked slowly down the hall towards the doors, hoping that if he took longer, there was a better chance you’d actually be there when he got outside. Other kids passed him, excitedly rushing out to their parents, talking with their friends. Will thought about how sure you’d been that he was going to make friends, and he almost teared up as he pushed the doors open, realizing he hadn’t done what you wanted. He hadn’t been able to make a single friend. 

Will squinted his eyes in the sunlight, head whipping back and forth as he tried to catch a glimpse of you. At first, there was no one familiar. And then he looked to his left, shading his face with his hand, and saw you. 

Will really couldn’t help the dead sprint he broke into in your direction, crashing into your legs and holding on for dear life, even as you struggled to maintain your balance. Instead of scolding him, though, you just gently nudged him backwards, before bending down and pulling him into a hug. 

“Hi bud!” You held him tight for a moment, before pulling back and studying him closely. “How was it?! Did you have so much fun?” You asked, smiling so brightly at Will that he faltered. 

“Yeah! It was fun!” He lied, forcing a smile onto his face. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told the truth. Maybe he was embarrassed, or maybe he just didn’t want you to feel bad for him. Either way, the lie was out and you were pulling him into another hug and telling him how proud you were of him. 

“I’m so happy you had fun, sweetheart. It’s ice cream time now, huh?” 

Will nodded, even though his tummy still felt like it was full of butterflies. He’d lied, and lying was bad and he’d gotten himself into even more trouble than he would have been in if he’d just told you that he hadn’t made any friends. And all of it was all his fault. 

—

Dinner was a happy affair that evening as Alexia had picked up pizza, Will’s favorite. Though Will seemed a bit subdued, you assumed it was because it had been a long day for him, and he was likely just tired. You didn’t think much of it when he barely spoke as you handed him his plate, quietly taking a seat at the table and nibbling on the slice of pizza. You and Alexia had gotten caught up in the topic of your upcoming schedules, not noticing how Will seemed to shrink further and further into his seat. 

“And then Madrid the next weekend?” You asked, taking another bite of your pizza as you did so. 

“Yep. And then Champions League back the week after.” Alexia replied, scrolling through her calendar on her phone. “I was thinking this weekend might be the perfect game to bring Will, no? It’s at home, and my Mami was going to go so he can sit with her!”

You couldn’t help the way your heart melted at how excited she seemed about bringing Will. At how easily she had adjusted to having him living here. Maybe there was some jealousy there, because you sort of felt like you were drowning in this new role, failing, all the while Alexia was thriving as if she’d been born for it. You pushed that thought away, refocusing back on your girlfriend. 

“Good idea! He can wear my jersey.” You winked at her, not noticing how quiet your nephew had been. 

Alexia scoffed, glancing at Will but only seeing the top of his head as he seemed to be studying his pizza very closely. “Or he can wear mine. What do you think, Will? Whose name do you want to wear?” 

Will didn’t look up from his pizza, and this time both you and Alexia fixed your attention on him, frowning at the silence. 

“Will?” You asked, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm. 

He looked up, then, tears falling from his eyes as his lip quivered. 

“What’s wrong?” You and Alexia both asked frantically at the same time. You practically fell out of your chair trying to kneel next to him, resting your hand on his back as he began to shake with sobs. 

“You do not have to come to the match if you do not want to, cariño. Don’t cry.” Alexia tried to soothe, crouching down on the other side of his chair. 

“No,” Will whimpered, rubbing at his eyes with his fists as he tried to calm down. “No.” 

“No what, baby?” You asked, using your sleeve to wipe the tears off his cheeks. 

“N-not that.” 

It was odd that he was barely speaking in full sentences because Will was normally a pretty articulate kid. Whatever had him so worked up, though, was so upsetting that he couldn’t get a full sentence out without another round of sobs overtaking him. 

“You are not upset about going to the match?” Alexia wondered. 

Will shook his head, sniffling, before hesitantly reaching out to wrap his arms around your neck. You hugged him back, picking him up and standing. Alexia was right on your heels as you walked over to the couch, deciding that this didn’t seem to be a conversation you should try to have kneeling on the uncomfortable wooden floor of the kitchen. You settled on the couch with Alexia next to you, Will still hugging you tightly as you let him sit in your lap. 

“What’s going on, Will?” 

“I-I hate school.” Will mumbled. 

“What?” 

“I can’t understand what anyone says and I didn’t make any friends and all of them laughed at me when I asked to go to the bathroom and I hate it, Tia, I don’t want to go back.” He sobbed, the details of his horrible day spilling out of him as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

You and Alexia exchanged looks, for once the both of you rendered speechless. Everyone had assured you that Will would adjust fine to school, and though you’d had your doubts, you hadn’t been prepared for this and you weren’t sure how to fix it. 

“Buddy, why didn’t you tell me?” You wondered, knowing instantly that was the wrong thing to say as Will wrenched himself away from you like he’d been burned. 

“I’m sorry, Tia, I didn’t mean to lie, I didn’t want you to be mad because you told me to make friends and I didn’t but I tried and–”

“Vale, vale, breathe, Will. Calm mi niño, everything is okay.” Alexia cut in, resting her hand on his chest as she tried to get him to calm down. 

“Will, I would never be mad at you for any of that. I can’t imagine how hard today was for you, and I’m so proud of you for getting through it.  It’s hard to make friends, especially when you can’t understand any of the other kids, huh?” 

Will nodded tearfully, his breathing still shaky as he wiped at his tears. “I asked to play with the dinosaurs with them but they just looked at me weird and I didn’t get to play. They had a brachiosaurus, Tia, and I didn’t get to play with it.” 

Your heart broke for the little boy, and you made a mental note to get a brachiosaurus figurine the next time you were out. One look at Alexia told you she was thinking the same thing, a frown set on her face as she rubbed Will’s back softly. 

“Will, what if we practice some things to say? In Spanish, so you can talk a bit more and play with the dinosaurs.” Alexia suggested. Will shifted in your lap so he could look up at her, cautious hope in his eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Alexia replied, tickling his tummy when he wasn’t expecting it and causing him to burst into giggles. It was the best sound you’d heard all day. “We can finish dinner and–”

“Can we practice now? I’m not hungry.” Will interrupted. Alexia deferred to you, and with the two of them looking at you pleadingly, you knew you had no chance. 

“Alright, but I’m putting your pizza in the fridge in case you want it later.” 

You headed into the kitchen, mindlessly cleaning up from dinner and putting the leftovers in the fridge. As you did so, you heard Alexia begin her Spanish lesson, asking Will what he wanted to say in English, and then helping him translate. 

“Me llamo Will,” Alexia annunciated. “Me gustan los dinosaurios. Puedo jugar?” 

Will repeated it in clunky Spanish, but his accent wasn’t half bad and it was easy to understand what he was saying. 

“Very good!” Alexia cheered. “What about. ¿Quieres ser mi amigo?” 

Again, Will repeated it, looking over at where you were leaning against the doorway of the living room. “Tia! Did you hear me! I spoke Spanish!” 

You cleared your throat, finding it suddenly a bit choked up. “I did, buddy. I’m so proud of you.” 

Will was practically bouncing with excitement, a complete contradiction to how he’d been just 10 minutes before. He continued to converse back and forth with Alexia, who was clearly enjoying her role as Spanish teacher. 

And you were happy he was happy now, absolutely. Anxiety still swirled in your stomach at the thought that Will had been miserable at school, and tried to hide it from you. It felt like a failure, like you’d let down Leo, and let down Will. You joined in on the Spanish lesson a few minutes later, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t doing well enough. You weren’t good enough for Will. 

—

There was no chance you were sleeping, with the way your mind was racing. Alexia’s face was smooshed into your shoulder, one arm slung over your waist, but she was sleeping deeply, and it wasn’t hard to slip out of bed and head for the living room. You kept the lights off, collapsing onto the couch and burying your face in your hands. 

Everytime your eyes shut, you could see Will’s crumpled face as he sobbed, begging you not to send him back to school. This was your failure, and you should have seen it coming. You didn’t know what you were doing, you weren’t cut out for this. You weren’t good enough to be Will’s guardian. This had all been a massive mistake and today had only made that clearer. Will was miserable, and it was your fault. Solely, singularly your fault. You were failing Will, and you were failing your brother. 

You jumped when a hand came to rest on your shoulder, startling away from the contact and whipping your head around. 

“Hey, it is just me.” Alexia whispered, squeezing your shoulder before leaning to flick the lamp on. Her face fell when she looked back at you, and you realized for the first time that your face was wet with tears. “What’s wrong, amor? Why are you out here by yourself? You are upset, you should have woken me.” 

Alexia sat down next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and tugging you into her. You let her pull you in, tucking your face into her neck as your hand gripped tight to her white sleep shirt. All you could do was sob, unrestrained, into your girlfriend. Alexia held you tightly, alternating between whispering reassurances into your ear and kissing the top of your head. 

When a few minutes had passed, though, and you showed no signs of telling Alexia what was wrong, she pulled away and cradled your face in her hands. 

“Talk to me, amor.” She whispered, dusting your cheek with a soft kiss. 

You inhaled shakily, letting Alexia’s thumbs gently swipe the tears off your face. 

“I’m horrible at this.” You choked out. “Will is… is miserable and it’s my fault. I’m not cut out for this, I don’t know anything about kids, I don’t know anything about a stable childhood. How am I supposed to do this? I can’t do this.” 

Alexia pulled you in tighter, shushing you softly. “You are not horrible at this. You’re doing your best–”

“My best isn’t enough, Ale,”

“It is! Your best is loving Will, and you are doing that. He is having trouble at school, sí, but this is not your fault, mi amorcita.” Alexia spoke earnestly, as though she believed every word she was saying. You wished you had the confidence in yourself that she seemed to so easily possess. 

“I’m not right for this.” 

“You are the only one right for this. You are what Will needs.” 

“I barely had parents, Alexia. I had no stability, all I had was Leo. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing, no idea–”

“That is how everyone feels when they first start taking care of a child. I feel that way, too, but–”

“It’s not the same, Alexia. You grew up with love and warmth. With parents that loved you and a family.” 

You hated the pitying look on Alexia’s face more than anything, so you attempted to stand and storm off. Your girlfriend wouldn’t let you, though, pulling you back down into her lap and nudging your chin up until you met her eyes. 

“I know it is different. It was so hard for you, amor, I know that. But just because you did not have a traditional family, this does not mean you do not know how to be a part of one. You love that little boy, and the rest will come. You just have to be patient. You just have to try your best. I know you can do it. I know you can.” Alexia murmured, her voice and words so sweet you felt more tears welling in your eyes. 

“How are you so sure?” 

Alexia pressed her forehead to yours, speaking without a single doubt in her voice. “Because you are a good and loving person, even if your brain tells you different. Leo trusts you, Will trusts you, and I trust you. You just have to trust yourself, amor.” 

Her words rattled around in your brain, even as she took your hand and pulled you back towards the bedroom. It was only once you were both settled back in bed in the dark that you spoke. 

“How are you so perfect? You’re so good to me and you’re so good with Will.” You whispered, voice muffled slightly by the fabric of her shirt. You felt her chest rise and fall a few times before she answered. 

“I’m not perfect. I just love you, amor. I am doing my best just like you.” She replied, fingers threading their way into your hair. You hummed at the sensation, snuggling further into your girlfriend’s chest. Alexia was much too humble, in your opinion. Overwhelmingly perfect and irrationally humble. 

—

please be nice to me i am very fragile right now [finals season has attempted to take my life but it cannot take my fanfiction]

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was���.” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[jq37]

Aelwyn is sixteen and preparing for midterms at Hudol. Uniform pressed and starched, head full of incantations and spell components. She doesn't mean to bump into Adaine and get orange juice all over her shirt but today isn't the day she's going to start showing weakness.

"You know, you really should watch we're you're going," she says archly, playing off the clumsy mistake as a purposeful jab.

Playing it off a bit too well because, the next thing she knows, Adaine is flipping her off and a bolt of queasy looking, green energy is coming towards her. Ray of Sickness. And she can't spare the spell slot for Counterspell because she needs it for her exams.

"You little bitch!" Aelwyn says once she's emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of her shirt.

"Good luck with your exams," Adaine says sweetly.

Aelwyn is eighteen and the oldest, mangiest cat she's ever seen in her life has just vomited on her shoes.

"My," she says, casting a shield spell around her ankles to stop the cat from clawing at them. "You weren't kidding. He is a little bastard, isn't he?"

The shelter volunteer looks mortified. "Oh, gods! I am so sorry. I tried to warn you--I mean, not that I'm blaming you but--"

"No, it's alright. I did ask you to show me stragglers."

The shelter worker gestures to another pen on the other side of the room. "I can show you the kittens we just got in or there are some very well behaved older cats as well if you'd--"

But Aelwyn cuts her off, scooping up the old cat--though she holds him at arm's length for now, just to be safe. "No need. I haven't changed my mind. I'll take this one." She looks at the tag on his collar. "Hector."

Aelwyn is three and, as of a month ago, no longer the youngest Abernant.

She's had baby dolls in the past but never a baby sister and this is exciting new territory. She's full of questions. When is she going to be able to walk? When is she going to be able to talk? When will she be old enough to have lembas bread instead of formula?

Her parents seem less fascinated by the new addition to the family than she is but her mother is amused when she slaps away the hand of a colleague of her father's who tried to touch Adaine before sanitizing his hands, standing between the much larger man and her sister.

"So defensive. Perhaps she'll be an abjurer."

When Aelwyn asks what that is, her mother says that it's a kind of magical protector and she likes that a lot. That sounds like a good thing to be.

At night, Adaine cries. Except, she doesn't hear it because the mobile above her crib is etched with runes that cast the Silence spell.

"But what if she gets hurt?" Aelwyn asks.

Her father brushes her off. That's what the Unseen Servants are for. But she thinks that's what an abjurer might be for too and even though she isn't one yet, that doesn't mean she can't start practicing.

So, every night, Aelwyn waits until her parents have put Adaine down for bed and then tiptoes into her room. She checks to see if Adaine is silently wailing and if she is (and even sometimes if she isn't) she presses her face between the bars of the crib and sticks her little hand over Adaine's face.

"Don't cry," she says, even though the Silence spell mutes her words as completely as the tears. "Mum said I'm an abjurer. Nothing will get you. Don't cry, baby."

Adaine grabs her hand with impressive grip strength for something so small and, within a few minutes, she's trancing peacefully.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her sister is off to save the world again. This time from a Night Yorb--whatever that is.

It feels cruel that Adaine should have to go risk her life again so soon after she just almost died--not almost died, she did die before being raised by her cleric.

She wants to come with, to help in some way. Surely she could be helpful--last quest they brought Gilear for Helio's sake!

But Adaine doesn't ask her and she can't bring herself to say the words she needs to have the conversation she wants. So, instead, she lightly whaps Adaine on the shoulder with her spellbook as she's packing for the quest.

"I know you haven't done much studying lately what with your grades being based on how many hobgoblins you kill or whatever ridiculous system Aguefort has cooked up," Adaine rolls her eyes at that, "But if you don't mind a little cram session before you leave tomorrow, I can show you how to cast Teleport like I said. Might help you stay a touch less dead on your quest."

Her tone is light but her eyes betray her: Please, please, please don't die again.

Adaine's expression softens but then she scoffs, playing her half of their game. "I don't know what a Hudol dropout who's been in jail for the past year is gonna teach me but do your best."

Aelwyn is seven and her father is cross with her.

"Really Aelwyn," he says and even though they're talking via crystal she can feel the frost of his glare. "You thought it was appropriate to call me at work for no good reason? How many times have I told you and your sister to not bother me while I'm working."

She hates the word bother. She doesn't want to be a bother. She tries very hard not to be. Maybe she just didn't explain herself well enough.

"I know, father. But Addy got really scared and panicky on the playground. She was breathing really hard and--"

Her father makes a noise of disgust. "I don't have time for this. She is in primary school now. Stop coddling her. And her name is Adaine, not Addy. Please speak properly. I'm raising you better than that."

He hangs up before she can say anything else.

Aelwyn is eighteen and most of the claw marks on her arms have healed, which is nice. On her lap asleep is Hector who has apparently decided he likes her enough to use her as a radiator but not enough to submit to medical treatment without using her arms as a scratching post.

"You little heat vampire," she says as she slides her thumb across the screen of her crystal, searching for a video that will help her out. Eventually she finds one that looks promising and she calls it up.

On the screen, a halfling is standing next to a cat who is actively shredding her sweater with its claws. "You're going to be tempted to use some kind of a shield spell when applying the ointment," says the halfling. "But cats can smell abjuration magic and they don't love it. You won't get close enough to do the job. Isn't that right my darling?"

In response, her cat hacks up a hairball.

"Darling indeed," she says under her breath.

But even laced with sarcasm, the word is sweeter against her tongue than she anticipated.

She sinks her hand into Hector's fur and scratches his back for a few moments before tentatively speaking aloud. "Sleeping well, my darling?"

Hector says nothing--he's asleep and a cat. But warmth blooms in Aelwyn's chest--more than enough to make up for what Hector is leeching from her.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her father has just given her the most horrible command she's ever received in her life--and she's counting being made to sink a ship full of people in that calculation.

She knows her father doesn't expect her to delicately extricate the knowledge he needs from Adaine's mind. He expects her to get it at all costs. To ransack and pillage the memories if necessary with no heed of the consequences on her psyche. He'd probably prefer it that way--the more broken Adaine is, the easier it will be to mold her into a version of herself that is more useful to him.

Aelwyn is usually a smooth talker and a convincing liar but now, she stumbles all over her words, babbling out a stream of deflections and pleas as her heart squeezes tighter and tighter in her chest until she can't hold back the truth that she's been suppressing for years anymore.

"Adaine's just…she's a baby."

Aelwyn is eighteen and her apartment is full of cats.

She's always thought that the phrase, "One thing led to another" was a bit of a cop out--clearly there were key steps between point A and point B being glossed over--but in this case, there is truly no better way for her to articulate how she went from zero cats to ten cats in such a short amount of time.

She's sure that if she was still living with Jawbone, he'd have something to say about it but that's exactly why she isn't currently living with Jawbone.

She portions out food for all of the cats, saving Hector for last because he likes to eat curled up next to her.

"My darling baby boy," she says, lifting him onto the couch with her because the jump up is a bit much for him and his old bones. She kisses him on the top of the head and then pulls out her crystal. She scrolls mindlessly for a bit before checking her messages despite the fact that there's conspicuously no notifications.

Not that she has many people to expect texts from but she hasn't heard from Adaine in a few weeks and it's unsettling. When they weren't getting along, they were still living under the same roof. She was able to keep tabs on her, more or less. Now, they're closer than they've been in ages but barely talking.

I'm the older sister, I suppose, Aelwyn thinks. I should take the initiative.

She pets Hector with one hand and drafts a message with another: Are you alive, bitch?

She's about to press send but then she frowns and deletes the draft. After a few moments of thought, she taps out a new message: Can't believe I'm gonna say this. Miss my little sister. Everything all right?

Aelwyn is seventeen--though she doesn't feel like it.

Her mind is telling her that she's sixteen and that she was just been broken out of a jail cell in Solace but Adaine is telling her that she's just been broken out of an entirely different prison after being tortured for months even though she doesn't remember any of that.

But her body feels frail and Adaine says she's been in her mind which means she must have used the hard reset.

She's suddenly feeling very vulnerable--not because of the disorientation or the of the levels of exhaustion she can feel weighing on her like leaden chains. No, it's because of the fact that Adaine using the reset means that she must have read the treacle-y note that she left there for her to find.

It was just an insurance policy, she tells herself. There was wisdom to buttering up your savior to make sure she'd do what you needed her to do.

She manages to mostly believe it. But the small, truthful part of herself that knows how deeply she meant the words is so uncomfortable that she antagonizes Adaine until she's annoyed enough to hit her with a spell, sending her into blissful unconsciousness.

Aelwyn is nineteen and she's going to kill her mother.

Well, not alone of course. Adaine deserves the kill at least as much as she does if not more. It'll be a group effort.

It's a strange mix--the cold fury at her mother mixed with the warmth she feels for her sister, sitting across the table from her. She summons a flame to her palm, a preview of what their mother has waiting for her. She watches Adaine's eyes harden with resolve and she sees the face of her baby sister, left to wail alone silently for hours, soothed by her presence. "Let's get her."

"Yes, my dear," she says, the endearment coming freely as if this has always been their dynamic. "We'll get her."

But there will be time for that later. Right now, it's time for ice cream and seeing Adaine so content in such a simple pleasure causes the warmth in her to surge so suddenly that it would be startling if it wasn't so pleasant. The urge to voice it is so powerful that she doesn't know that would have been able to stop it at any point in life, let alone now.

"I hope we get to eat ice cream and cast magic forever," she says, words that would have been impossible for her to say one short year ago and impossible not to say now.

And, to her delight, Adaine agrees.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

A Love that Burns

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

A/n: You don’t understand the chokehold this man has on me ughhhhh. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy, I wrote this very fast!

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x wife character (I usually do x reader but I really like the name Aurelia so I used that!)

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, Curse words, mention of fire, minor injuries, burns. A bit of suicidal ideation. Allusion to smut hehe. 18+ to be safe please. No minors!!

Summary: General Marcus Acacius’s new bride is troublesome, he doesn’t seem to mind though. After an incident occurs she pulls away from him and he can’t figure out why.

****************************************************

“He’s going to be furious…”

“Such a shame…do you think he’ll throw her out?”

“He might… we always knew she was trouble but this time she’s gone too far…”

“Poor dear, I doubt even her father will take her back…”

The roaring flames had long since died down, leaving now only crackling embers and dark clouds of smoke. How much time had passed you didn’t know. You hadn’t moved from the ground, knees planted on the hard stone, eyes glued to the scene before you.

What was once a grand structure, beautifully carved and molded for someone equally as impressive was now nothing more than a pile on the ground and it was completely your fault.

How had wanting to get a book out of your husband’s study and lighting a candle to see had gone so wrong?

You should’ve listened to your conscious, it told you that you shouldn’t go into your husbands private building but you knew he had an extensive selection and while you were newly married, barely even a few months he was your husband and you didn’t really think he would mind.

In the short time you were married the general had been accommodating and civil, more than civil actually, he had been doing his best to make you feel comfortable. That being said you did barely see him at times due to his duties and when you did it seemed all you did was cause him trouble.

Like that time you accidentally visited the animals one early morning when you were bored and didn’t shut the door behind you. Acacius had been abruptly woken up by the clucking of chickens ascending the staircase and running around the halls like it was a party. You had been redder than a pomegranate when you realized your mistake.

Or that time you lost your wedding necklace and spent hours wading in the lake where the laundry was washed thinking it fell there. You’d never forget the feeling when Acacius strode through the gates in tow with fellow commanders for a meeting but everyone froze seeing the comical sight of you, a highborn lady dress pulled up and soaking wet. That time made you want to drown yourself right then and there.

Oh and how could you forget the time you wanted to show your appreciation by baking his favorite dessert according to the maids and thought adding some cinnamon you’d bought in town was a good idea. Not even bothering to wonder why the kitchens didn’t have cinnamon in the first place… turns out the reason was a good one, the general had an allergy.

This time it was his face that was redder than yours… you didn’t face him for days after that..

There were so many moments like that but somehow each time he didn’t get angry like you expected. He didn’t yell or scold you.

When you bit your fingers nervously watching the servants try to catch the chickens he slowly walked out, surveyed the scene in what you could guess was mild disbelief and perhaps a bit of amusement, looked at you then turned back to go back to sleep.

When you were soaked in the lake he quickly regained the men’s attention, led them inside then a few minutes later reappeared with some haste. You didn’t get a chance to protest when he stepped in and pulled you out by your arm. Still he didn’t yell, he did start to scold a bit though because you were shivering, but when you suddenly yelped and squirmed reaching in your dress and pulled revealing a flopping fish with your necklace around it he lost all his words. You celebrated while he just started in disbelief.

And when you literally poisoned him you sobbed beside him as the healer frantically gave him several mixtures and an injection of some sort. You apologized over and over like a parrot. When he could finally breathe again, he closed his eyes exhausted but said, “Don’t cry, it tasted great..”

All those times he was so kind, unlike any other man you’d met before. To think you had been so afraid of the arranged marriage and now all you could think was how he deserved someone so much better.

He was older and saw you as a child you were sure of it. You wished you could act like the other wives, but you just couldn’t.

Your eyes glazed watched the flickers before you as if in a trance.

You’d burned his favorite place in the villa. A building constructed years ago that served as his study, his place of comfort, his safe space. He’d showed it to you when you first got married. You’d been amazed at how beautiful it was on the inside.

You could see on his face how this place made him relaxed compared to the rest of the villa.

And now it was gone..

The whispers of the servants were muffled around you but you caught them all the same.

You couldn’t find the strength to move, maybe you should have at least moved back, away from the falling ash and debris but you couldn’t.

You ruined everything, just like always…

There was some more muffling amongst the crackling, some sounds you didn’t register, couldn’t register… then a sharp yell. A tone you didn’t recognize.

“Why is she-!”

There was pressure on your shoulders but still you couldn’t look away.

All gone… all your fault…

You think you heard something loud but couldn’t understand it.

The pressure increased… so did the shouting but still you couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until you saw the burnt pile get smaller that you realized you were being pulled- no carried away.

You felt so disoriented, everything in your vision jerking and you realized whoever was moving you was running.

The scene was still in view but further away, your eyes not daring to look away. You did however register that you abruptly stopped moving and were sat on something upright. The pressure returned to your head then arms then body.

Yelling, someone was yelling in your ear but it wasn’t until the pressure reached your face and you were forced to look away from the scene.

Eyes, wide and frantic, searched yours. Lips opened and shouted something you still could not understand. But the face you knew all too well. The one you wronged, the one you did a horrible misdeed to. Acacius.

You inhaled loudly, more of a gasp then coughed. Suddenly you felt everything crash into you at once, from when you were numb a moment ago now you burned in pain, lungs on fire, skin itchy and stinging, eyes feeling like the sun itself were upon them. You coughed and sputtered uncontrollably, breathing a foreign concept to you.

His strong hands at your back and arm. Almost cradling you was a strong contrast to his shouts that you could now hear louder than ever.

“Breathe, easy, easy- Dammit why did no one move her! Call the healer now!” He barked behind him.

Angry he was angry. Of course he was, even gentle and kind men like him had limits, limits that you’d crossed by battlefields.

Hot tears came, still you coughed, you wondered how long you could continue like that before losing consciousness, there were already spots in your vision. The sobbing now made it worse.

“Shh shh breathe it’s alright, just breathe for me wife, all is well, shh look I’m here, you’re safe” he pulled you into his lap holding you firmly in the hopes you’d calm down. He kept whispering to you, pleading and eventually the coughing stopped. You wondered how much more smoke it would’ve taken to kill you…

“That’s it, you’re safe, shh just breathe, I’m here” more tears emerged as you registered his words for the first time. How horrible you felt to have this angel of a man cradling you and comforting you when you just burned down his sanctuary.

It would have been easier on your heart had he yelled and thrown you aside.

“The healer is here!” Someone called out, your eyes were closed on his chest but you heard everything around you.

Swiftly you were lifted in his arms and carried to his chambers. The healer immediately got to work peeling back the fabric you only now noticed was dark as ash and singed in many places. Acacius stood behind her as close as he could without getting in her way. You watched as his eyes scanned your form, concern etched as he took in all the burns and scrapes. Your heart couldn’t handle it, he deserved a woman 100times better than you. You shut your eyes of the heartache ignoring the healer telling you to stay awake, moments later you were unconscious.

**************************************************

Stinging pain roused you, you wanted to cry out because your body was screaming at you. You were alone in the room, but by the moonlight shining through and how exausted you felt you didn’t think you had been unconscious long. Fresh tears escaped and you didn’t bother to wipe them.

You sat up in raw agony realizing just how many injures you sustained. Your skin was covered in loose bandages and shiny from salve. Sitting so close at the time you didn’t feel anything but clearly you were affected.

Shouting from below had your head whipping to the window.

With great effort and pain you stood on shaky legs and approached the opening peeking your head outside, you squinted and saw figured in the yard.

You choked out a sob when you realized what was happening. Acacius was yelling… yelling at the servants and guards for not moving you. Yes they put out most of the fire but didn’t bother with you. You hardly blamed them, you were a burden, an embarrassment of a lady to the great house hold. Perhaps they wanted you to die, actually it would have been easier if you did.

You couldn’t bare to listen to it anymore, guilt eating you alive. For some reason you had to see it again. To confirm what you had done…

You ignored all the pain and like a ghost descended the staircase.

When you reached the bottom you sucked in a breathe before walking forward where the smell of smoke was still heavy and thick.

And there it was, like a brand on your heart the scene of your crime. There were no more embers, just wood and ash. You walked closer until you stepped on something.

You moved your sandal revealing a silver medal covered in soot. You remembered how proudly it hung on one of the walls. And now it was beneath rubble and dirt.

Two hands found your mouth as you let out a cry.

“Heavens What have I done?” The strangled voice sounded stranger to you.

“What have I done, what have I done” you whispered achingly.

“Aurelia!”

You choked again hearing his voice, you couldn’t bring your self to look just yet.

“Aurelia what are you doing!? Why are you up!?” He rounded you hands finding your shoulders.

Acacius waited for your answer but you had none, only fresh tears. He barely hesitated before reaching down and scooping you up.

“I can walk-“ you tried to say but it was unintelligible through your tears, you didn’t want to burden this man ever again, not for anything.

He glanced at you for a moment but continued his quick pace to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, his concern growing at the endless tears.

“Are you in pain? Let me call the healer back-“ he was already halfway out again.

“No-! no I’m fine I’m fine don’t call I’m fine!” You cried out but tried to collect yourself to not worry him more. The truth is your body was on fire but you would never burden this man again.

He hesitated but listened and approached you again, “Then what is it? Are you afraid? Everything’s alright now, your safe”.

You bit your lip to keep in the cry. How could he be so kind?

“Aurelia? Tell me please, what is it?” He kneeled beside you a helpless expression on his face.

“I-I I’m so- im so sorry, I’m sorry- I don’t know how- I was in there for a b-book and lit some candles I don’t even know how it h-happened I-I-“

Your breathing was becoming erratic again but once you started apologizing you couldn’t stop

“I’m so s-sorry Acacius I’m so sorry” you buried your face in your hands.

“Aurelia shh it’s alright, don’t cry, it’s nothing that can’t be replaced, don’t apologize, you need to breathe alright?”

You barely heard him, but you needed him to know how sorry you were, even if you didn’t deserve forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry” you continued.

“Aurelia-“

“I’m s-sorry”

“Aurelia stop you’ll hurt yourself more!” He kneeled on the bed pulling you closer to him, worried that if you didn’t calm down you would go into another coughing fit.

“Shh it’s alright, I’m not angry, all that matters is you’re safe. Please calm down, can you breathe slowly for me? Look, follow my breathe…”

“That’s it, breathe in and out just like that, good girl…” he held you close and you felt your eyes begin to droop, exhaustion taking its toll. He sighed when your last words were a whispered apology.

***************************************************

The next day you were miserable, the burns although mostly shallow still caused great pain. Mentally you were a wreck, replaying the events over and over.

The healer told you you needed to rest for several days so that’s what Acacius made sure you did. He visited often but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak hardly a thing out of shame. Most times you just pretended you were asleep.

A week passed and you were allowed to get up as normal just to take it easy. Acacius had gone out for some business luckily because you didn’t think you had the strength to face him.

As you descended the stairs you tried to ignore the whispers of the servants. They all thought the same thing you were repeating in your mind.

Burden

Shameful

Useless

You sighed shakily nearing the now cleaned land where the structure once stood. His kindness made you feel horrible. You wish he would yell and scream at you, for you deserved all the bad words

You spent the day aimlessly wandering and thinking until you tired yourself out and retired to your chambers.

A jar of salve was left by your bed from the healer for the pain but you didn’t open it. You deserved every single sting and ache.

The next day you hardly felt like getting up so you didn’t. Food was brought, you didn’t bother eating it, instead you gave it to the birds outside the window.

In your solitude you came to a resolve. You would resist every urge, every inkling of your old reckless self. Acacius deserved someone who was 100 times the woman you were but since you were bound all you could do was at least not give him any more trouble. Another week passed, Acacius had been gone for some military business and it was easier that way.

It had been a whole nother week when Acacius finally arrived back to the villa. He dismounted his horse with a sigh. He did not want to be gone so long but he could hardly deny the emperors requests.

Tiredly he walked through the gates, scanning for signs of you. It was unusual to not see you flitting about.

A servant approached and helped him remove his cape.

“The Lady, how is she?”

The servant frowned a bit, “My Lady has been… resting these past weeks. We’ve not seen much of her.”

He frowned at that. Her wounds were not so terrible to have her bedridden so long. So what was wrong with his wife?

He nodded to the servant and made way directly to her chambers.

He knocked on the door listening for her voice.

“Come in” you called expecting a servant with food.

You were sat on the bench by the window staring out.

“My Lady..” he said almost hesitant.

Your head whipped to the side, eyes widened seeing your husband.

“A-Acacius… I didn’t know you were back…”

He walked inside and shut the door behind him.

“Are you well? The servants tell me you haven’t left the room much..” he stepped closer taking you in. Your sunken face, the way your eyes weren’t lit up with that sparkle he loved.

“I’m alright, thank you..” he frowned, not quite satisfied with the answer.

“Your wounds are healed?”

You nodded quickly.

He nodded then cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed, “Then why haven’t you been out?”

You thought of what to say for a moment, “I… no reason, just resting I suppose”

Another answer that didn’t satisfy him but he decided not to pry. If you didn’t want to speak he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

“Well I’ll be in my chambers should you need anything…”

“Thank you..” and with that he left shutting the door behind him. You bit your lip forcing the tears not to come. How dare you cry when he’s the one who should be upset. Get it together.

Several more days pass and Acacius was growing frustrated. You barely left the room, choosing to take your meals inside even when he was home. He only caught glimpses of you here or there on the occasional walk around the garden but even that was becoming rare. Where was his wife who was always flitting around singing something off tune or getting into trouble. He recalled the time he awoke to clucking outside his door, and the time he found you skirts tied comically splashing in the lake, then of course when you so happily baked for him flour marks on your face. He smiled fondly at the memories, then frowned.

Why had you suddenly changed so much? Had he done something? He knew the fire shook you up but perhaps he said something unintentional? Did you overhear him yelling at the staff and resented him for it? He was going mad.

It took another few days before his patience finally ran out and he all but burst into your room.

“A-Acacius?! What-“ you startled dropping the book in your hands.

“Tell me what it is” he demanded a bit out of breathe.

“W-what?”

“Tell me what’s wrong or what I’ve done to upset you into seclusion”

“Acacius you’ve done nothing wrong I swear…”

“Then what is it? Why have you been avoiding me? What has upset you so much that you’ve locked yourself away?”

You didn’t expect this, so you really didn’t know what to say.

“I… I think it’s better this way…”

His eyebrows furrowed a bit trying to make sense of what you just said. “I don’t understand, what’s better?”

You fiddled with your hands and had a hard time making eye contact so you chose a lovely spot on the floor instead.

“It’s better that I don’t…. cause problems..” heavens was that a lot harder to say out loud than you thought.

This definitely took him aback.

“What?”

Oh no was he upset now? He surely looked it.. maybe you should have explained better.

“I-I mean… I’m always causing you trouble and getting into situations that I shouldn’t… I figured it would be better if I spent more time here….”

He was quiet for a while, his face undeniably confused and upset.

“And you decided this all on your own?” He said in a tone that you were a bit nervous about. Calm but hidden anger.

“I-I… yes..”

“So your plan is to live out the rest of your days between these four walls?” He couldn’t hold back a scoff. His annoyance seeping through his usually calm demeanor with you.

“….It’s better-”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance “Better? Better for who exactly?”

“Acacius all I do is cause you trouble! I’ve been embarrassing you since we wed, the entire household thinks I’m a burden and they’re right, I cannot-I will not burden you anymore especially after-…” you couldn’t bring yourself to mention the fire. With a shakey breath you gathered yourself and continued.

“I just don’t want to upset you anymore…” you confessed.

The silence was deafening, your heart squeezing so much you were afraid it was going to burst.

“You know out of everything that’s happened between us I think this is the only time I’ve been truly upset.”

You eyed him swallowing dryly taking in his clenched jaw and crossed arms.

“Acacius…”

“You don’t get to decide this all on your own, and you especially don’t get to decide how I feel.”

“…”

“Have I ever been cross with you? Made you feel as if you’ve shamed me?”

“Well no but-“

“Then why?” In two strides he was upon you looking down.

“Why did you suddenly decide that I would like it more if you hid yourself away?”

“Because if I’m here not causing you problems then wouldn’t it be easier for you…?” You wrung your hands together, anxiety heightening with every moment.

“Fuck that”

You jumped a bit startled that those words came out of his mouth.

“W-what?”

“Cause me problems”

“Acacius-“

“Break things, scream shout, bring the whole villa down if you wish it but you will not lock yourself up like a prisoner. You’re my wife, I’d like to actually have you around.”

“You… you’re just saying that because you’re too kind Acacius… but my heart can’t take it anymore. I did something so awful and I know you must be upset…”

“Is this about the fire then?”

“…”

“Things can be replaced, nothing that burned cannot be bought again or rebuilt.”

“B-but you loved that place. It was your sanctuary”

“I did love it, but it’s gone now and I hardly think about it, it’ll be rebuilt soon enough not that it really matters. What matters is that you’re safe and sound.”

“How can you be so kind? So patient so-so perfect” he scoffed at the last one in mild amusement.

“Acacius it’s true! I’ve never met someone so gentle and sweet”

“Gentle and sweet..I’ll be sure to add that to my title right after general or Rome”

“You joke but it’s the truth…” you look down at your sandals.

He sighed before lifting your chin up with his warm fingers then caressing your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Tell me something wife, have you seen me act that way with anyone else?”

“Well…” you thought about it. He was civil with everyone.. stern a lot, with servants and his men and well everyone else…

“And why do you think that is hm?”

“Well… I assume it’s because you see me more as a child…”

“A child.” He repeated.

You nodded.

“Aurelia you are never allowed to assume anything ever again”

“What?”

“You truly think that’s how I see you? That I treat you kindly because I pity you?”

“Well…then why?” You asked genuinely confused.

“Why treat my wife with care? Why worry for her? Why speak gentle words? Why shower her with gifts? Tell me Aurelia why does a man do those things for a woman?”

“I… I assumed-um well I believed that you were just..”

“Just what? Doing that out of duty? Is it so impossible to imagine that I love my wife and want her to be happy?”

“….” Your eyes widened larger than the sun. You hardly believed the words. So you asked him in a whisper.

“W-what did you s-say?”

Instead of answering he leaned forward closing the distance with a soft kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” He breathed in the few inches between your lips.

You shook your head no and leaned in. You felt the smirk against his lips. After several moments you pulled back to regard him.

“I never imagined you’d feel the same way…I still don’t think I believe it…”

“Like I said, you’re forbidden to assume things from now on wife”

“I… I’m sorry…” his hands settled at your waist, his smell flooding your senses.

“Make it up to me…”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but didn’t want to disappoint. You wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a deeper kiss full of emotion.

“Never allow such thoughts in your mind again, and you’re wrong, you’re not a burden. Yes I’ll admit you have a habit of getting into unique situations but I don’t mind, in fact I look forward to what surprises await me each day.”

“Do you really mean it? Even if I do awful things…? “

“Yes I mean it.. although I will draw the line at one thing, never do anything to put yourself in danger. When I saw you by the flames I-“ he paused sucking in a breathe.

And that moment you heart finally caught up with your head because no man could fake the emotions on his face like that.

You hugged him whispering an apology into his shoulder.

“You’ve apologized enough for a lifetime, come, dine with me, you’ve lost weight…” you nod letting him pull you by the hand out the door.

You heard some voices and frowned, anxiety creeping up again.

Ever the perfect man he caught on immediately.

“What is it?”

“The servants… it’s been hard to be around them… you might accept me for who I am but they haven’t…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it”

You cocked your head a bit at his amused tone, “why?”

“Because I fired them all”.

“Acacius!”

“Don’t protest, it’s done. I blame myself for not realizing what heartless people resided in my home. Besides I think you’ll like the new staff a lot better..”

You descended the staircase still confused why he seemed so smug until you heard voices you hadn’t heard in months.

“My Lady!”

“My Lady we’re here!”

“Oh how we’ve missed you!”

You couldn’t contain the loud gasp when your eyes landed on the familiar faces below. The staff that practically raised you was beaming up at you with joy.

“Oh my- Marika! Cicero! Diana! Felix! Ahh you’re all here!” You practically jumped from the staircase onto the group of your favorite people in the world.

Acacius couldn’t help but chuckle as the group enveloped you pulling you in, hugging and kissing you. Hardly the kind of servants he was used to but now he understood why you were so saddened to leave them behind. After your embraces you pulled back.

“What are you doing here? Is Father here?”

“You mean you don’t know?” The words would have worried you had everyone not been smiling ear to ear.

“Know what?” The general has employed us all here.

“W-what?!” You snapped your head to your grinning husband.

“B-but how did you- father must’ve been- h-how!?”

He laughed and descended the last couple steps, “I can be very persuasive if I need to be dear wife.”

“Oh- oh I don’t believe this!” you couldn’t contain your joy and parted from the group to jump on your husband who stumbled a bit but caught you of course. You kissed him then and there not caring who was watching- well in fact you didn’t care because everyone in the room were people you loved and felt safe with.

He was a bit surprised but when you pulled back his face was quickly morphed into fondness and satisfaction that the gleam in your eye was back.

“There she is..” you sighed happily hugging him once more then ran back to the awaiting group.

Well actually you made it halfway before pausing, turning around with an unsure look, and walking slowly back to him.

He tilted his head curious, “Acacius… will you… will you allow me to properly thank you… tonight? If that’s- if that’s something you’d like… or-“ your face that lovely shade of red he’d come to admire.

“Something I’d like?” He scoffed and for a moment you were afraid until you saw the expression in his eyes.

“Well I didn’t want to assume… you’ve forbidden it remember.” He smirked leaning down by your ear so only you could hear him.

“Listen well wife. This is the only exception you may always assume...” You shivered feeling his breathe caress your ear.

Gentle and sweet and now you had a new word to add, although you couldn’t quite find the right one just yet. But oh were you ever so eager to find out…

***************************************************

Is it getting hot in here guys?? No? Just me? Anywayyyy hope you enjoyed. I threw this up in one sitting so forgive all the mistakes. I finally saw the movie and wow, who knew they could fit so many hot men on one screen.

Also can anyone think of a better title lol😅

[joaniscruzing]

reuniting with jinx <3

everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...

obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??

summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.

warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED

you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.

"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."

vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.

"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."

you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.

after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.

you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.

the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.

"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.

"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.

"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."

shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.

"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.

"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.

"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."

"and how did you get back to zaun?"

"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."

you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.

"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"

"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.

"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.

her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.

"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.

"i love you too."

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature. 

To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.

There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.

He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.

Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.

Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.

The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didn’t mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.

Also, you didn’t want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didn’t deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didn’t know how to behave.

Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?

You were a pet, so it wasn’t like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadn’t gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.

One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.

“You’re looking good, princess,” Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.

“Feeling better?”

You didn’t reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.

“Behave,” Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.

It only took another step and Gaz’s teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.

Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.

“‘Ello pup.”

Nah, you weren’t fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.

Running still wasn’t your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you weren’t allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks — as well as the fence’s slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt. 

The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.

He let out a concerned whimper.

“Dinnae lass,” he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.

You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.

Stupid. They were all stupid.

Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They weren’t allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.

It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldn’t see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.

However, that peace didn’t last long.

“My my,” the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, “what are you doing here, perrita? On my property?”

You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.

“You must be Price’s precious lapdog, no?” She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, “a little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.”

There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.

“I’ll go home again, I’m sorry.” You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You weren’t even supposed to be here, weren’t allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you weren’t supposed to be there.

“Hmmm,” she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, “what’s your name, perrita?”

She screamed danger. Her energy screamed ‘I can make worse wounds than them’ and you certainly didn’t feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.

“D-Daisy.” It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you weren’t going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.

“I’m Valeria,” she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasn’t really that tall, but her energy was as if she was,  she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.

You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.

You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadn’t met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.

“Uh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-“ you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.

“Eres tan linda e ingenua,” she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didn’t understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.

“I’m gonna enjoy me—“

“VALERIA!” Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldn’t be ignored.

She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.

“Valeria!” It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, “ sé que la tienes! Let her go!”

With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.

“I won’t be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.”

You didn’t need to be told that again and didn’t want to argue that they weren’t your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came. 

How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasn’t like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.

The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.

You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.

“Get your arse over here,” Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you. 

You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle. 

“Nyet,” Nikolai called harshly, “off her. Now.”

Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didn’t move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple. 

“Let go.” Price’s voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.

“She smells wrong,” Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, “smell of her.”

Her. You didn’t know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.

“We will fix that.” 

Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift “Good boy.” 

Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didn’t want this either.

You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.

“C’mon boys,” Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, “we’re gonna join them.”

They were what? You cried harder, tugging at John’s arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.

“I’m sorry sir, I got scared, I didn’t mean to run away,” you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, “ they scared me, I was gonna come back, I’ll be good sir, I’ll behave! I wasn’t running away!”

There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.

If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.

You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?

You weren’t even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.

“I’m not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.”

None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldn’t blame them, you wouldn’t want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadn’t been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.

You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.

The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.

Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didn’t move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.

“They shouldn’t be this aggressive,” you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didn’t stop. 

“Gonn’ mark ye, hen,” he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, “gonn’ make ye smell all bonnie again.”

Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.

“-are working dogs-” it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, “-hierachy is importa-”, one of Soap’s hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, “show them where the line is, so–”

You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. “It's okay, bonnie lass,” Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, “we’re nae gonna hurt ye.”

You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.

He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.

The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybrid’s skin.

“Behave, boy,” John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, “No breaking skin - already told you.”

“‘m sorry, sorry,” he promised, a pained tone to his voice, “dinnae mean tae.”

You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.

He was let go off and the moment the prongs didn’t painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.

“‘m sorry,” he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.

You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.

He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.

“Gonna fill ye up,” Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.

“DON'T knot her,” Price’s word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.

“Nnngh,” his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, “please sir, please plea—“

“No.”

The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Price’s fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you. 

“Later,” Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, “we don’t have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.”

The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasn’t John’s, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.

“Wait,” you barked, ears tipping down “lemme breathe, for fucks sake—“

“Need you, puppy,” Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, “gonna make it all okay again.”

“Nothing happened-“ you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.

“Why did you smell like her then, huh?” He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, “stinking of her lust!”

You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.

“Be nice, собака,” Nik warned him, “I’m in no mood for broken bones.”

You barely heard him nor Gaz’ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization. 

They were jealous ; you weren’t sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didn’t know, had touched you and hadn’t you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.

Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.

It didn’t take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.

The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didn’t recognize your own voice.

Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from ‘his bitch’ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty. 

He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again – halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.

The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something – but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip. 

“Behave, Princess,” John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the others’ current prong collars, “or I’ll get you a collar too.”

“They’re mean!” you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.

“Well you’re not quite playing nice either, eh?” There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didn’t get to comment on it, before he moved again.

Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didn’t let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.

“Yeah, Princess,” Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, “Behave.”

“Shut up!” you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there. 

Gaz’ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.

Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.

Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.

You barely heard Price’s command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.

Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.

A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.

Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.

“behave,” John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.

You didn’t have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.

He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.

Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldn’t remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.

“Not so snappy now, huh?” he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, “cockdumb already?”

“nnngh,” you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small “shutup” and that was enough to set Ghost going.

“Gonna teach you to not go whoring again,” Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didn’t stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.

“Belong to us,” his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, “not her.”

“I won’t, won’t go, won–” you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, “nonon, please, I wont–”

“Ghost–” Price’s warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met. 

Ghost’s eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didn’t want, on a farm you didn’t want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head – biting down into your skin.

Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker – pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.

It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghost’s ears tipping backwards as he spoke.

Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghost’s fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.

The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.

They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.

There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.

It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.

Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you. 

The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Price’s hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.

There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.

“Such a strong puppy,” he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, “you deserve treat for being so good, da?”

Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didn’t want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didn’t fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a  small “uh-huh” leaving you.

His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a “there you go, milaya,” letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.

You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub… alone. That was your thing.

“- ‘nd they’re gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -” you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining. 

“We’ll buy more-” John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.

“- ‘nd my brushes - all my nice brushes!”

“I will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghràdh,” Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, “I will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.”

Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.

“Jooohn,” you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, “I’m gonna need new brushes.”

“I doubt that, Princess,” he cooed, petting your hair, “Now who wants to join in th–”

Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.

“Dinnae be like that,” he crooned, “where is yer special shampoo?”

This day had been awful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Princess.”

You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didn’t look aggressive and didn’t smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.

“What?” you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, “you’re dragging in mud.”

He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little ‘oh’. They weren’t really supposed to be in here, so you didn’t really understand why Gaz stood there. You didn’t really care either.

The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people. 

“I - want to show you something,” he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, “Soap said you would probably like it.”

“What is it?” You didn’t sound too impressed.

“It's a surprise,” he smiled a little more.

“If it's your knots, then you can–”

“Jeez,” he rolled his eyes, as if they weren’t fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, “it’s not. Nothing like that.”

“Promise?”

“I do,” he answered, wagging a little more than before, “Swear on my tail.”

"Hm. Where is it?”

“In the barn.”

You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.

“It’s nothing scary - I wouldn’t bring you if it was.”

You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of John’s jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside. 

“Some air would do you good once in a while, ya’ know,” Gaz said after a few moments, “we’re not that bad all of the time, Princess.”

You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. “You haven’t really proved me otherwise.”

He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.

“It’s all good, I promise,” he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.

He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.

Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gaz’ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.

“They’re adorable,” you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world. 

“Aren’t they?” Gaz asked with a smile, “They were born yesterday night. Come.”

You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.

“Won’t the mothers attack us?” you didn’t like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.

“Nah, me ‘nd the others hang out with the animals all the time.” He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.

It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.

“But I don’t.” you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.

“No, but the mothers know I won’t let a predator near,” he explained gently, “Not at daytime and not during the night.”

“Oh.”

There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didn’t want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.

“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadn’t expected would be that nice.

[lisired]

(at the end of the day) everybody dies

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: angst, smut, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence

summary: denial after denial, your step-brother continues to nag you about an upcoming high school reunion, until you finally agree to tag along. it’s awkward seeing your ex-boyfriend, haechan, again for the first time in years, but you have no time to dwell on the past with the threat of undead students banging on the school gates.

word count: 20k

a/n: part 3/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to leave this school, to never step foot here again, but you had made a promise you were none too keen on breaking. 

Though to be fair, you had been pressured and borderline manipulated into coming. Mark, your stepbrother, was the only reason you had bothered to show up at all. You had no idea why he couldn’t drag himself to your stupid high school reunion on his own. 

But alas, what your annoying little stepbrother wanted, he almost always received. Though not without a fair tradeoff. You would be sure to do something that would momentarily destroy his life at some point. 

At the moment, the idea of storming out and abandoning him without a ride was particularly appetizing. 

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you said as you approached the fiery, demonic gates of hell. 

Mark rolled his eyes for the nth time today alone. You had been insufferable about this entire trip ever since he (forcibly) asked you to come. “We’re already here. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not too late to turn around,” you reminded, scratching at the blue denim of your pants. “We can always change our minds, you know. Go shopping instead.”

“Not a chance,” Mark replied, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you straight ahead. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but Mark gave you little to no say in the matter. He pushed you forward until you exasperatedly swatted his hands away, insisting that you knew how to walk on your own, and braced yourself for the inevitable havoc. 

You both knew the real reason you didn’t want to come back here and it had nothing to do with the school itself. Well, maybe. There were a lot of memories you’d buried on school grounds, good and bad. Some memories better than others. Some unspeakable. The point was that your rationale behind leaving was something much darker. 

Walking through the double entrance of your former school, you were surprised by how uniquely different and yet familiar the place looked on both the inside and outside. The campus looked recently renovated, but it wasn’t completely unrecognizable. There were the usual old brick walls, but fresh blue paint and brand new white pillars.

You wondered if they finally upgraded the bathrooms. Though you had wanted better ones since freshman year, even when you graduated, they were still pathetically disgusting. The entire student body had been hoping for something cleaner. More like begging. 

Mark studied the entrance hall in awe for a moment before flitting his gaze back to you, patting you on the shoulder. “We’re early. Wander around a little bit. See how much the school has changed over the past decade. That’ll give you enough time to get your mind together before the others get here.”

You silently shrugged in answer, deliberately sulky. Mark had definitely planned this out. No doubt he had been expecting your stubbornness.

With that, Mark turned and started down the hallway, most likely going to check out the school for himself. You didn’t understand why he was here any more than you understood yourself. He wasn’t even a part of your senior class. 

You stood in place for a moment as you glanced about awkwardly, uncertain of here to go first. There were so many options, and far too many of them brought back forbidden memories. The kind that you were to never, under any circumstances, speak of. 

After a long minute of wavering, you ultimately decided to pace in the direction of the lockers, concluding it was the safest option. Despite how many years had gone by, the journey still felt so natural. The route was engraved inside your memory, with the once in a lifetime experience of not having to shove past other students in a crowded hallway. 

The lockers looked a little different. They were still the very exact shade of blue they had been a decade ago, but with some touch ups. You stood in front of yours, something bittersweet making your heart throb. Many memories existed here. Stupid, petty arguments and stolen kisses. 

With how engrossed in your thoughts you were, the last thing you were expecting was for someone to come up behind you.

“Boo!”

You jumped, screaming as loud as your lungs would let you. Startled, you jolted to look to the other side, coming face to face with Johnny Suh. “God, you asshole,” you swore, a hand put over your speeding heart. “I can already tell you’re still annoying.”

Johnny laughed. “Is that your way of greeting someone you haven’t seen in years?”

You scoffed, very familiar with Johnny’s shenanigans, and retorted, “Only if scaring the living the hell out of them is yours.”

Despite the annoyance in your tone, you pulled Johnny in for a well-overdue hug. And Johnny, ever the gentleman, made sure to ensure maximum distance between your bodies. Maybe it was a little bit too chivalrous. Sure, a whole decade had gone by, and Johnny had always been respectful, but he had never been one to mind a splash of contact between friends. 

Male or female, for the record. You pulled away first, crossing your arms in suspicion. “What’s her name?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed. Was that a serious question? “You just gave me the most courteous hug ever and I know you’re the last person to be scared of tits. You definitely have a girlfriend.”

“Fiancée, actually,” Johnny replied with a smile, holding up his hand to show off the band on his finger. “I’m engaged. I bought us matching rings.”

You gawked, surprised. Johnny was one of the few people in the bunch who you had never imagined to have a successful long-term relationship, so this kind of life update was totally unexpected. “Engaged to who?” you asked, flabbergasted. 

“Victoria,” Johnny replied casually. 

That threw you for another loop. Victoria, as in Victoria Kim? The same Victoria you literally bet five dollars wouldn’t take Johnny back if he was the last guy on earth? There was no way in hell. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

Johnny smirked, having been anticipating that reaction from you. Everyone he knew had been in a state of shock when he mentioned he’d rekindled his relationship with his high school sweetheart. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Understatement of the decade. Literally. There were only a few people you were currently up to date with in your former friend group, although that was merely because of forced proximity. Mark, Taeyong, and Jaehyun were all in some kind of dance squad together with a couple of other buddies they had. 

Johnny, on the other hand, had become something like a ghost after graduation. You knew virtually nothing about his life after high school and you hadn’t really made an effort to maintain the friendship via social media, which was partly because of the fact that your account had gotten hacked by some stalker, but that was an entirely different conversation. 

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away. “Congratulations,” you replied, still reeling with shock. 

“Thank you,” Johnny said, leaning against the lockers. “What about you? Dating anyone?”

Your eyes widened, although you probably should have been expecting it. Fuck’s sake, this was a high school reunion. There were going to be a million questions thrown at you about your personal life and you had to be prepared to answer all of them. “Me? No. I’ve had a few brief stints, but nothing lasting.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, tempted to probe you about the brief stints in question, but held himself back. He didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. “Ah, I get it. The dating pool is pretty fucked up right now anyway. You’re not missing out.”

“Says the engaged man,” you quipped. “You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better.”

Johnny threw his hands up. “You caught me.”

You grinned, appreciating the fact that Johnny was still admirably sincere. He kept things real, but he was cautious with his words and did his best not to hurt anyone’s feelings. You could see the maturity in his face and although it gave you whiplash, it was a pleasant addition to his character. 

There was still a lot to get used to. You were genuinely happy for his engagement, however, you would be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in all the wrong wounds. So many years ago, everybody said it would be you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. And now ironically, Johnny would be getting married to the same woman everyone swore he wouldn’t last three seconds with. 

Which, according to Victoria herself, was very inapplicable in bed. And to be fair, they had dated without breakups for nearly two years in high school. 

You forced the thought out of your head again, knowing that you were cruising down dangerous waters. Glancing up at Johnny, you asked, “Did you get taller?”

Johnny glanced down at you, noting the remarkable high difference he had never failed to tease you over in high school, and replied, “I’ve always been taller than you.”

“No shit,” you replied, because that wasn’t even what you had asked. “But did you grow?”

Johnny teased, “Nah. I think you just got shorter.”

You rolled your eyes and directed your attention back to the blue lockers, too annoyed to look at his face. Your lockers were right next to each other, meaning you got the pleasant luxury of hearing him and Victoria make out before every other class period like the two love-struck teenagers they had been. 

Not that you had been much better. 

“Haechan’s been single too,” Johnny told you offhandedly. 

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t ask about Haechan.”

“No, but you were thinking about him.”

He had you there. Haechan had been all you could think about since the moment Mark asked if he could drag you along with him to this goddamn reunion, and he was single-handedly the only reason why you would have rather been at home. The thought that you would inevitably have to face him at some point today made you immensely antsy. 

No one needed to know that though. You didn’t want to seem like you weren’t over a relationship you had been in literally a lifetime ago. “And what would you like me to do with that information?”

Johnny shrugged, but there was a certain hint of mischief to the smile on his lips, and you weren’t even remotely curious about what it meant. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just saying. He’s single, you’re single. I thought you would be curious.”

“Not even a little bit,” you lied through your teeth. 

Johnny could see straight through your tale, but he didn’t call you out on it. He didn’t need to. You were already filling in the blanks on your own, just as he had intended. “If you say so.”

You considered giving him a snarky response, but you refrained, deciding that you’d rather keep up your facade of nonchalance. In no way would you give the impression that you were invested in Haechan’s love life. Instead, you deflected the attention, asking, “How’s Vicky?”

“She’s doing great,” Johnny replied, smiling at the mere mention of his betrothed. You could tell he was smitten. “She works in the foreign language department of a beauty brand and she makes good money doing it too.”

You were pleased to hear that. “No surprise there. She’s always been the better bilingual.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny agreed. “She speaks flawless Korean and rarely mixes it with English. I’m kinda jealous. But at least living in Korea improved my accent.”

You gawked and raised your voice up a shrill pitch, asking, “When the hell did you do that?”

“Like I said, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Johnny teased, seemingly having fun dropping all this new information on you out of the blue. “Anyway, I’ll catch you in a bit. I’m gonna go see if Jaehyun’s made it here yet.”

“Okay. Good luck finding him if he has. That guy can hide anywhere,” you joked.

“Not from me, he can’t,” Johnny said with a chuckle, turning and heading down the hall. 

You heaved a breath when he was gone. The first conversation had gone by smoother than anticipated, which took a few weights off your shoulders, but not many. You were still dreading bumping into your ex.

With a hand wound through your hair, you willed yourself not to make a beeline for the gates. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to speak to anybody already. You thought Mark had said you’d have some time before the others got here. Then again, Johnny was nothing if not punctual. You couldn’t think of a single time he had arrived late to homeroom, even if all he did was goof off. 

At the thought of Mark, you decided to find wherever the hell he had ran off to. The school wasn’t that damn interesting. There were only a number of places actually worth visiting the last time you’d stepped foot on campus. 

You predictably found him in the courtyard, where you remembered Mark had spent the bulk of his free time, usually chatting with his fellow underclassmen or writing underneath one of the trees by the fountain. At the moment, however, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain obviously flirting with a very pretty girl. 

Mark had his arm draped over Xiu’s shoulder and a hand over her thigh, which was crossed on top of her other leg. They were laughing about something that must’ve been super funny, because the way her body rattled as she laughed was almost violent. The whole sight was disappointing. 

Normally, you would never deliberately get in the way of your brother’s endeavors to score a beautiful lady, but today had given you a lot of momentum. You pranced over like a disapproving parent, arms folded. 

“I guess I know the real reason you wanted to come here, Mark,” you said as they noticed you approaching. 

Mark’s face flushed slightly, like he had been caught. Xiu, on the other hand, laughed and stood to give you a hug. “Oh my god. I haven’t seen you in, like, forever,” she said. 

You unfolded your arms to hug her back, grinning from ear to ear as you went in, but making sure to send a disdainful glare Mark’s way over her shoulder. “I know,” you replied, pulling back with a beaming smile. “How’s life abroad?”

Xiu went on to gush about her life in Guangzhou, where she had moved after graduation to live with her maternal grandmother. With how she spoke of the city’s food and culture, you almost wanted to take a vacation yourself. She asked you about your life away from the city too, seeming genuinely intrigued.

Though she was entirely none the wiser to the look Mark was giving you as he sat behind her on the fountain. He looked like he wanted to mangle you. You barely suppressed a laugh, but somehow managed to keep it in until you begrudgingly decided to leave after a few more minutes. 

“I think I’m gonna go now. Wouldn’t wanna get in the way of whatever you two obviously have going on,” you said after a moment, donning a perfect smile. 

Mark looked relieved, resisting a grateful sigh. Xiu thought nothing of your departure. If anything, she seemed a little disappointed, but she knew she’d see you again once the gathering kicked off. She said your name and bid you goodbye. “See you in a few,” she told you, waving. 

Reciprocating her kindness, you waved back, turning around and heading back inside the school. 

You hadn’t shown it while Xiu was still paying attention, but you were definitely more than a little mad at Mark right now. The sheer audacity of him to bring you here knowing you were scared shitless of running into your ex, solely so that he had an excuse to speak to some girl he liked. Was he fucking serious? 

It was the ultimate betrayal. No wonder he’d been so adamant on showing up to a high school reunion despite for one, it having nothing to do with him, but for two, him already being up to date with half the people attending. 

Maybe you were being overdramatic. The moment Mark first saw Xiu it had practically been love upon first sight. He’d had a crush on her since his freshman year and pined over her like some hopeless idiot until she graduated. It was something of a miracle she was actually paying attention to him now. You should have been happy. 

Pacing down another hallway, you bristled with annoyance. Then, a familiar face caught your eye, standing in front of a bulletin board between two classrooms. “Tae,” you called out. 

Taeyong turned his head, smiling when he recognized you. “Hey, bossy. How’s it going?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname, exhaling a breath as you came closer. “At this rate, I’m gonna need a detailed timeline describing the events of everyone’s lives over the past ten years,” you quipped. 

Taeyong burst into laughter. “I get it. Did you know Johnny is getting married?”

“He just told me a few moments ago,” you replied, still feeling the after effects of shock. “And to Victoria of all people. Like, I never thought she would take him back. He must have seriously grown up.”

Taeyong nodded along. “Oh, yeah. Johnny’s grown up big time. I swear, it gives me whiplash sometimes.”

You didn’t know exactly why Johnny and Victoria had broken up. She only voluntarily gave her side of the story to a select few people and went on about her life as if he’d never existed in it whatsoever. But it wasn’t difficult to assume that it was Johnny’s teenaged boy tendencies that had culminated in a devastating breakup. 

Their entire relationship was a mystery at this point and you were kind of tempted to get to the bottom of it all. “I’m still waiting to figure out how they even made up with each other. From what I remember, their breakup was pretty final.”

Taeyong hummed. “My thing is they were in different places. I think Johnny just needed some time to learn about life and Victoria needed to focus on herself. They couldn’t grow together.” 

That was a perspective you had never considered before. You had always just assumed that with Johnny’s track record, Victoria finally realized she was way out of his league. “That’s true. I hear she’s doing really well. I’m glad they’re both in a spot where they can be happy on their own as well as with each other.”

There was a curious gleam in Taeyong’s gaze, but if he was thinking about something in particular, he didn’t say a word. “How are you doing? The last time I saw you, you were super grouchy. I’ll never forget the way you took over our practice.”

“I did not take over your practice,” you insisted, although he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I just couldn’t help but notice you guys were a little out of sync. You’re welcome.” 

“Thanks so much,” Taeyong replied with a hint of sarcasm. “You didn’t answer the question though.”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?”

Taeyong was someone you didn’t feel like you had to hide with. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body and he was the least judgmental person you knew. “I’m okay,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging. “I didn’t really want to come here, to be honest. But Mark always gets whatever he wants eventually.”

“I figured,” Taeyong said, chuckling in amusement. Mark was rather spoiled. “I was surprised when Mark told us you were coming.”

“Have you seen him?”

Taeyong had a strong feeling that you weren’t talking about your stepbrother. “Haechan? No. He probably overslept or something. Might have even forgot the reunion was today at all.”

You laughed, but you strongly doubted it. Haechan wasn’t a very forgetful guy. His sharp memory had been his whole excuse to whisk you off on random dates. He always remembered your anniversaries, the day you first met, the day you first said you loved each other. 

No, Haechan would never forget something like this. If he didn’t show up, it was because he didn’t want to. And you had a feeling you knew why. 

You veiled the nostalgic emotions racing through you behind a smile. “That’s awfully optimistic. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice that we’re standing right beside Doctor Nam’s class.”

Taeyong nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Ironically, there wasn’t much about that class to smile about, but it resuscitated some happy memories. “This is my first stop. I had to come here right away. It’s been so long.”

You shook your head, wistful. “God, she was the best. She literally kept us alive in third period with the snacks she passed out.”

“Yeah, because she knows AP English Lit is boring,” Taeyong said with a chortle. “My nephew says she still hands them around.”

That surprised you a little bit. You usually saw teachers get grouchier as they got older. You had to commend her for not losing her mind after more than a decade of teaching obnoxious teenagers. “That’s good to know. Wish we had snacks in calculus.”

Taeyong feigned a look of disappointment. “You would get one headache and immediately say, ‘I need a nap.’”

You nodded in confirmation, grinning at that. “That does sound like me. Everybody was so surprised I said I was majoring in computer science as if I don’t do the same shit at my job. The second I get home, I drop like a rock.”

Taeyong gave you a pat on the shoulder. He knew about your job and from what you’d told him, it sounded both complicated and stressful. He would much rather keep to dancing. “Women in STEM,” he retorted. 

You scoffed and shook your head. For sure, your work left much to be desired, but you had worked your ass off for it and it paid the bills. “Hey, I’m gonna go see if I can find Jaehyun,” you said, a sudden thought appearing in your mind. “Johnny went looking for him a while ago and I hope he doesn’t remember that I owe him five bucks now.”

Taeyong looked confused for all of seven seconds before he keeled over in laughter. “Oh my god. You made a bet that Victoria was never taking Johnny back, right?”

“Yes, and Jaehyun, being the dickrider that he is, just had to oppose me and stand up for his bestie,” you droned. 

“If he hasn’t asked you about it now, he probably forgot,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly. 

That was wishful thinking and you both knew it, but it was true that Jaehyun hadn’t said a word to you about it, and you highly doubted he’d been oblivious to Johnny’s engagement like you were. “I hope so. See you in a bit.”

Taeyong waved you goodbye, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing to read from the bulletin board.

Only when you set off on your journey did it occur to you that you had no idea whatsoever where to find Jaehyun, and the school was big as hell. You rooted in the middle of the hallway, thinking. You were still on the first floor, as was everyone else you’d met so far, which made it reasonable to assume that Jaehyun hadn’t made it too far either. 

If I was Jeong Jaehyun, where would I hide, you thought to yourself, humming. Assuming he had shown up on his own will, unlike you, you expected him to be somewhere mingling with the bunch. 

So imagine your surprise when you saw him standing at the trophy wall. 

Jaehyun turned, having heard your footsteps, and smiled when he recognized you. “You came,” he said, pleasantly surprised. 

You nodded, coming up beside him. Though you were sure to leave a little bit of distance between your bodies. “You sound shocked.”

“Can you blame me?” Jaehyun asked. You were expecting him to then go on about the very obvious reason everyone had for not expecting to see you, but he didn’t say anything. 

Now it was your turn to be surprised. But you didn’t let it show, hiding it behind amusement. “Well, I guess not.”

Jaehyun chuckled and tilted his head. He was watching the wall in front of you both with a certain fondness in his eyes. And something vaguely nostalgic. 

You followed his gaze. The trophy wall had everything you would expect a display case to have. There were numerous things dating back to the year the school was established, including a framed photo of the basketball team from the year you’d graduated. Johnny, who had been team captain at the time, was crouched down in the front with a ball in his hands. And Jaehyun was right beside him, as to be expected. 

“You know, I never imagined you going from basketball to dance,” you mentioned, peering up at him. “Maybe I should have. The level of footwork required is crazy.”

Jaehyun snickered, his head bobbing as he giggled. “I guess you could say I graduated.”

Your lips twitched as you desperately tried not to laugh, but to no avail. “I knew you were gonna say something stupid. You get that look in your eye and start laughing.”

“You laughed too.” 

“Yeah, but not because of what you said.”

“I still made you laugh. A win is a win.”

You exhaled dramatically, relenting. Then, you giggled again. Likely a thing to happen when you were in a high school with a handsome boy. “Yes, that’s true, I guess. You did make me laugh.” 

Jaehyun beamed triumphantly. “You have a cute smile. You should laugh more. You’re always so serious.”

Your brows stitched, but you brushed it off. It was a harmless compliment. “Um, thanks,” you replied bashfully. 

The floor squeaked. Though you could have sworn the sound came from behind you, there was no one there when you glanced over your shoulder. You ignored it, chalking it up to someone walking down the hallway. 

“I heard the dance crew is going really well,” you continued, changing the topic. “Mark won’t shut up about practicing.”

“Weren’t you bossing us around the last time I saw you?” Jaehyun asked, crossing his arms. 

You rolled your eyes and dramatically groaned, “For the love of God, I was not bossing you guys around. And even if I was, you kinda needed it.”

Jaehyun’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “What would we do without your constructive criticism?”

“Die, probably,” you retorted. “Hey, did you know that Johnny is getting married? My bad. That’s a stupid question. Of course you know.”

Jaehyun was amused. “Yeah, I’ve known for a while. He wants me to be his best man.” 

You shook your head in mock disappointment, asking, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Did you not get an invite?”

That question surprised you. You figured he would have known. You told him no and explained, “Johnny and I haven’t been keeping in touch. I honestly think today was my first time seeing him in, like, eight years? The last time I saw him was at Xiu’s send-off party.”

“Maybe you can be my plus one. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having you,” Jaehyun suggested. 

At first, you thought you were imagining things, but now you were fairly certain that you weren’t crazy. Was Jeong Jaehyun flirting with you?

That made you curious. All those times you had seen Jaehyun when visiting Mark at your parents’ house, and never once did it cross your mind to stop and ask if he was single. “You don’t already have a plus one?”

The implications of your question were obvious. Jaehyun shook his head and timidly confessed, “No. Dating has been pretty shaky for me, to be honest. And Mark told me you’re not seeing anybody. I didn’t ask, I swear.” 

“Mark needs to get the hell out of my business,” you replied lightheartedly, clearly only half meaning it. “But he’s not wrong. Dating has been shaky for me too.”

“Maybe we can be shaky together,” Jaehyun said in his usual, slow and melodic voice. “And because I like you, I won’t hold you to that bet we made in school.”

You gaped, stunned. You obviously hadn’t been expecting that. So he did remember. 

Jaehyun gave you a knowing smile and slithered away, most likely to find some hole in the ground to crawl inside. He wanted to leave before he potentially embarrassed himself in front of you.

Now you were interested. That was a turn you hadn’t seen coming, but it certainly had your attention. You and Jeong Jaehyun. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of that sooner. Jaehyun was the perfect storm of ideal attributes in a man. He was handsome, talented, just the right amount of weird, and very respectful. More or less everything you had ever wanted.

You could’ve gone on, but there was one more place you wanted to visit before it was time to reunite with the others. The single most well-funded location on the entire campus. 

There was a weird sense of pride when you stepped onto the campus football field, which was ironic, because you had never been one to care too much about school sports. Much less the ones your friends weren’t participating in. The quality of the field may have been prioritized over the dark, unimaginable bathrooms, but at least it looked pretty. 

Plus the team was full of admirably gifted players, at least when you were in school. So not only did the field make the school look good, but its champion teams did too. 

You meandered over towards the back of the bleachers. There were more memories this field had to offer than just football games you’d been dragged to. You could see images of yourself hiding behind the bleachers, a particular boy in your arms. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, clad in black leather. 

“We used to have a time here.”

You gasped and whipped around. Your stomach physically dropped when you locked eyes with the last person you wanted to see. 

Haechan waved at you with a sly smile, not seeming even remotely remorseful for startling you. “Sorry. Was that too forward?”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but resisted. “Since when have you ever cared about being too forward?”

“You make a very valid argument,” Haechan said, snickering. 

Looking at his face, you felt a familiar knot return to your stomach and it only tightened when you met his eyes. You didn’t know why people called them butterflies. They’d always felt more like a flock of wild, vicious birds. 

Not to mention he’d brought up what you used to do behind the bleachers. The mere thought damn near made you paralyze on the spot. Suddenly, you were remembering what it was like to sneak behind them for another tryst of stolen kisses and tender touches. Haechan had made you your most rebellious. There was never a dull moment with him. Everything he did was to feel alive and naturally you soaked in all that energy. 

Johnny and Victoria, with all their differences, were the couple that no one had expected. Victoria was brilliant and thorough. She was the good girl. Johnny was impulsive and smart when he tried. He was always looking for mischief and fun. There was a certain uproar they’d received upon announcing their relationship that you and Haechan shockingly never had. 

You and Haechan had your fair share of differences too, but in a way that complemented the other. Haechan, for all his recklessness, was intelligent and perceptive. He loved having meaningful conversations that required thought, and he loved having them at quick paces. 

That never bothered you like it did with other people. You loved discovering and learning about other people’s opinions on all sorts of topics, even if you didn’t necessarily agree. You loved expanding your horizons and seeing the world. And Haechan never ran out of things, ideas, or places to show you. 

It was frustrating that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what you’d had with him, and you were struggling not to show it. But you didn’t want to make things awkward, so you said, “You look good.”

Haechan flapped his leather jacket and replied, “Thanks. You look great yourself.”

You forced yourself to maintain your gaze. The sight of him used to make you smile. Now, it made your stomach ache. “How have you been doing?” you made yourself ask. 

Haechan shrugged. “I’ve been pretty good. I just bought a new bike.”

You hummed. Haechan always did love motorbikes. In high school, he dreamed of one with a beautiful, black stain and a flair of red with insane, unrivaled speed. The fact that he said a new bike must’ve been he’d had one and then some. “Ah,” you replied, not surprised. “You still love those death machines.”

“I do,” Haechan said, even though you hadn’t phrased it like a question. “Probably even more now that I’ve owned a few. What about you? How have you been?”

Donning your most confident smile, you ignored the flutter in your gut and chirped, “Oh, I’m wonderful, you know. In all the ways that matter. I bought my first house last year and since I actually have a backyard now, I’ve been really into gardening and meditating.”

Haechan was impressed. “Wow. That is wonderful. I don’t think I’m ready to give up the whole apartment thing yet.”

You chuckled. That was very on brand of him. You used to joke that Haechan was allergic to being in the same place for too long and a complete adrenaline junkie. At some point, you were the only thing that managed to keep his attention for longer than a week. 

“What’s funny?” he asked with a hint of confusion. 

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. There was still a faint smile on your face. “It just sounds like you.”

Haechan retorted, “Well, I hope so. I am me, after all. And I take great pride in living up to my name.”

“I bet you do.”

You had more to say, but no courage to say it. It was most likely going to be awkward or embarrassing. Maybe it was a good thing you faintly heard someone barreling through the doors to join you both outside. 

Saved by the bell, Johnny came running towards you both at a speed you hadn’t seen in literal years. “You two need to go inside. There’s zombies everywhere,” he panted out. 

You rolled your eyes. Everybody had said Johnny had grown up, and now he was talking about zombies. “Very funny, Johnny.”

Haechan snickered. You both clearly assumed he was joking, which was totally fair. For one, zombies were outrageous. But for two, Johnny had always loved to play silly tricks on his friends back in the day and you surmised that this was no different. 

“I’m serious,” Johnny said in a voice more stern than you had ever heard from him before. It was extremely unlike him. “I know it sounds crazy, but they’re surrounding the school!”

You and Haechan glanced at each other, sharing the same doubtful expression. But the look on Johnny’s face was weirdly authentic. 

In the middle of your telepathic exchange, you heard weird breathing coming from behind you and turned to see someone slowly but steadily climbing over the gate. They were stained almost head to toe in blood and there was a gnarly bruise on their face. And in that moment, you knew it wasn’t a lie. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the air fleeing your lungs. 

Johnny’s face darkened. “Let’s go. Right now.”

You didn’t even notice that you’d gone completely rigid. Haechan grabbed your hand and started pulling you along from the spot where you’d rooted in unwavering fear, dragging you back towards the school. 

The thudding in your chest was violent. It gave the throbbing pulse you got around Haechan a run for its money. You didn’t even know how to react to this kind of situation, other than running for dear life. And even that practically had to be done on your behalf. There was no prior experience to compare it to for reference. 

After what felt like an eternity of sprinting, the three of you locked yourselves inside the closest room with a door you could find, which happened to be the computer lab. The sole sound in the room was your collective panting, but the only thing you could hear was your pulse thudding in your ears. 

Johnny grabbed one of two tables pressed against the wall and began to drag it across the floor, obviously about to block the door. Which was a very rational, very logical response, but it made you flare up with concern. 

“Johnny, wait,” you said, eyes widening. “Mark. I don’t know if Mark is okay. The last time I saw him, he was with Xiu in the courtyard.”

Johnny paused, bracing his hands on the table, and glanced down as he tried to think. “It’s dangerous to go back out,” he warned. 

You knew that, but it didn’t change anything. No matter how infuriating Mark could be, you couldn’t rest until you knew he was safe. “I don’t care. He’s my little brother. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

“Then, I’m going with you,” Haechan said in a tone that left no room for argument. His fingers were still intertwined with yours. 

Johnny shook the hair out of his face. There was no doubt that he was against the idea, but he knew how important Mark was to you. “Fine. But you both need to be extremely careful. Okay?”

Haechan looked determined, brave. You didn’t know how he was keeping himself together while you were on the very verge of panic. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Your eyes darted back to Johnny. You didn’t want to leave him here on his own, but you knew he was capable of taking care of himself. “Do you want us to find Victoria?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. I told her to hide in one of the classrooms while I looked for you guys. She’s safe.”

You blew out a breath of relief. That was one less person you had to worry about. Now you just had to see if the others had found some kind of shelter, especially your stepbrother. “Good. You should be careful too. We’ll text you if we find out something,” you said, reluctant.

“I’ll be okay. Go,” Johnny told you firmly. 

Haechan didn’t need to be told twice. He gave Johnny a wordless nod and led you out of the lab, shutting the door behind you both as quietly as possible. There was no telling if the zombies had made their way inside yet, but you would much rather be safe than sorry.

Nothing about the hallways soothed your unease. They were alarmingly quiet and the only source of noise was the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. The one thing providing you comfort was ironically Haechan’s hand gripping tightly onto yours, a gentle reminder of the fact that you weren’t alone. 

“I wonder if he’s still in the courtyard,” you whispered. “He can’t be, right? They would have seen something by now.”

Haechan wanted to tell you something reassuring, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He said your name calmly. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

You frowned. You couldn’t stand the uncertainty around Mark’s safety. He may not have been your blood, but he was still family and the only sibling you had. If you lost him to something as insane as undead creatures, it would shatter you irreparably.  

“Hey, we’re gonna find him,” Haechan told you softly, recognizing the look of dread on your face. “Don’t worry.”

“I really hope so,” you whispered. 

In total, there was one positive to this bizarre situation and that was that you didn’t have time or space to worry about the rift between you and your old lover. The threat of potentially losing each other permanently forced you to stick together in ways unlike anything you’d ever experienced. 

Literally. You were so close to Haechan, hand in hand with your side mere centimeters away from his hip, you couldn’t tell if it was the cause for your speeding heartbeat or the fear with its hand clasped tightly around your throat. Maybe it was both. 

Either way, you were in panic mode and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You were the queen of overthinking, and at the moment, it was all you could do not to compulsively think about Mark. If he was okay, if he and Xiu had managed to isolate themselves, and whether or not he was even aware of the dangers lurking just around the corner. 

You had so many questions. Many of them had to do with the mystery behind how there were even actual, legitimate zombies in the first place, but you knew no one around you would have answers. It was all completely insane, but you had seen the one climbing over the gate with your own eyes. It looked real and terrifying. 

There was a sudden sound. You knew you hadn’t made it up in your head, because Haechan tugged at your arm to keep you in place, hiding you behind him. 

“What is it?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulders. 

Haechan put a finger to his lip, effectively quieting you. Had it been any other day, you would have playfully gotten on him for shushing you, but absolutely nothing about today was typical. 

The sound of footsteps caught your attention. You couldn’t see anything, but at the very least, you knew they were too fast to be zombies. It sounded like someone was scurrying down the halls as if they were being chased, which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. 

Not a second later, Mark turned down the hallway with his fingers wound protectively around Xiu’s hand. His eyes lifted in surprise. “Dude,” he said, obviously shaken up. “You guys will never believe what we just saw.”

You took a wild guess and asked, “Zombies?”

Mark gawked. “How did you know?”

“We saw them too,” Haechan answered for you. “Johnny says they’re surrounding the school. We need to get somewhere safe.”

“Where should we go?” Xiu asked, eyes dampening with unshed tears. She had always been sensitive to every emotion imaginable.

Haechan shrugged. “Anywhere is better than the middle of the hallway right now.”

Mark scratched his head. “Well, the closest place I can think of is the gym. We can at least head there to make a plan.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to stabilize yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s do it.”

No one argued. The four of you were quick to beetle down the halls in the direction of the school’s gym as if you were being hunted like prey. But the fact that there were more than two of you provided some easy reassurance. 

You were remembering how long the hallways were and exactly why they gave you eight minutes to travel from class to class, though even that didn’t feel like enough at times. Granted, you used to spend half that time kissing and making out, but that was only natural. You were grateful there weren’t thousands of students to shove past at the moment. 

There were a few times where you’d almost tripped over your own legs with how quickly you were sprinting, and when you finally rounded the corner to the gym, the four of you hurried inside, checking for even the smallest indication of undead interference. It didn’t seem like they had made their way inside yet. Still, you knew it was only a matter of time before they did, so you texted Johnny and the others your whereabouts. 

The hope was that everyone would be able to meet up safely at one place, in one piece. Your best bet at survival would be to stick together, rather than individually trying to take all of those monsters on your own. You tried to call the police with that same logic, but no calls would connect. 

More importantly, you hadn’t heard from Taeyong or Jaehyun since you’d briefly spoken to them in the hallway, and that thought made you more than a little anxious. Their chances of survival were decent as long as they hadn’t gone to the courtyard or something, but at the same time, being indoors meant you had to assume they didn’t know about the danger on the horizon. 

“Guys, I can’t wrap my head around this,” you said out loud, sitting next to Haechan on the bleachers. He scooted over, finally giving you some room to breathe. “Zombies?”

“Man, it looked real,” Mark said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

That was the problem. It looked real, but there was no logical explanation behind why it was even possible. “No, that’s what I thought too, but it still doesn’t make sense. Are we sure we’re not being pranked?”

Haechan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a prank. I saw that thing. It wasn’t human. It was like an animal.” 

Silence draped over the gym like a gloomy, giant thundercloud. “I’m scared,” Xiu confessed after a beat. 

Mark threw his arms over Xiu and held her tightly in his embrace. “We’ll be okay, Xiu. The others will get here soon and we’ll all make a plan to get the hell out of here.”

Right on time, Johnny came in with Victoria in tow. You hadn’t seen her until now and she looked absolutely horrified. Their hands were gripping onto each other so tightly you would think they had seen a ghost. 

And even ghosts somehow seemed better than dead men walking. 

The first thing Johnny did after sitting Victoria down was take a headcount, and he looked very displeased with the number he’d calculated. “Where’s Jaehyun and Taeyong?”

“We don’t know,” Mark replied, shuddering with cold dread. “We texted everyone, but I don’t think they’ve responded.”

You double, even triple-checked your phone, hoping to see some kind of confirmation that they were doing okay, but there was nothing new. “It’s radio silence. There’s no telling if they even know what’s going on.”

Johnny mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t hear with the sheer amount of distance between you, but you didn’t need to in order to tell that he was thinking precisely the same thing you were. There were what you could only think of as real life monsters surrounding the school, two of your friends were unaccounted for, and you had no feasible way out. 

“Sitting here doesn’t feel right,” Mark said, brows stitched. He was obviously deep in thought. “I think we should go look for them.”

Johnny was quick to shoot him down. “No, it’s too dangerous. There’s no way of telling if we’ll make it back.”

“And what about them?” Mark asked, ever altruistic. 

Johnny countered, “What good will it do if we all die trying to be heroes?”

That was a fair point and Mark knew it. You didn’t all have to potentially die. He was silent and sulky for a minute, tearing his eyes away. “I still don’t like it,” he grumbled. 

Haechan spoke up. “Think about it, Mark. We don’t know where they are. We have no means of self-defense. What are you gonna do if something pops up behind you? Scream for dear life?” 

“He’s right, Mark. We can’t go,” Xiu said, trying to persuade him from committing to something he would never be able to undo. 

Mark tensed with frustration. “Then, what do you guys suggest? Staying here forever?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Haechan replied, glancing at the two entrances. “If those things break in, they have two options to enter through and we’d be trapped.”

Johnny didn’t waver. “Well, we just won’t let them break in.”

Haechan scoffed. “With what tools?”

Mark stood up like lightning, as if to say that he rested his case. “Exactly. We’re gonna need to go back out one way or another.”

Exasperated with the back and forth, you chimed in, “Maybe that’s true, but we definitely are safest here. There’s room for all of us and a water fountain, plus this is the only spot with an easily accessible bathroom.”

Mark nodded along and added, “Yeah, and we obviously can’t stay here forever, but we’re gonna be here a while if we can’t get in contact with the cops. We gotta make this place extra secure so that it’ll hold us longer.”

No one could deny the truth of that either, because the reality of the situation was that no place was inherently safe. You had to condition it. Disgruntled, Johnny reluctantly agreed, “That’s true. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, so we need supplies.”

You heard the doors being drawn open followed by rapid footsteps and the dialogue in the room came to a grinding halt as you each waited with bated breath to see who was coming from around the corner. 

A collective breath of relief wafted through the gym when Taeyong and Jaehyun walked through the left entrance. 

“Thank god,” Johnny said, immediately coming to a stand and draping his arms around his best friends. 

When he was free again, Taeyong released a breath and looked amongst the gym much like Johnny had, content with the number of less than happy faces he saw. “We got your text, but it was a little too late when I saw it. We had to hide out for a bit in one of the classrooms but a lot of them are locked, so it was a mess.”

You frowned. So, the monsters had made their way inside. You were royally fucked. 

“Hey, what matters is that you’re here,” Johnny replied, giving Taeyong a pat on the back. “We decided that we’re gonna go back out. The gym is good, but there’s room for improvement.”

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “We’re going somewhere else?”

Johnny explained that you guys had gone back and forth about the next best course of action, and ultimately came to the conclusion that you had to strengthen your hideout. “We’re gonna be here a while. We need to make this place a little more sustainable.”

You got to your feet, mentally preparing yourself to potentially encounter one of those nightmarish creatures. “Yes. We need food for when we get hungry, first aid for if we get injured, and some kind of weapon to defend ourselves for obvious reasons,” you told them reasonably. 

Haechan was still sitting at the bleachers, deciding not to give chase, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear him. “I think we break into pairs,” he urged, seeming fully prepared to support his recommendation if necessary. “Safety in numbers.”

But no one argued. It was obviously smarter than traveling individually, and would allow you to hit more places quicker than if you moved as one whole group. “Jaehyun and I can go to the infirmary and see if there’s a first aid kid lying around,” Taeyong volunteered. 

Jaehyun nodded in acceptance. “We can do that, but where would we get food?”

“There’s snacks in Dr. Nam’s classroom. It’s unlocked,” Taeyong replied. His knowledge was coming in handy. “It’s not much, but it’s better than a headache. I’m sure she’s got granola bars.”

“We can take care of that,” Mark replied, rubbing circles on Xiu’s back. “Sounds easy enough. I just don’t know what kind of weapons we can get our hands on. I mean, there’s hand sanitizer?”

You gaped, suddenly thinking of something. “Oh my god. Principal Myeong. Do you think his shotgun is still in his office?”

Johnny shrugged. “There’s no harm in finding out.”

“I’ll go with you,” Haechan said, finally rising from the bleachers. 

You swallowed, but you didn’t turn him down. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Johnny or Victoria to come with you instead when they obviously wanted to be together. “Okay.”

Johnny stretched his arms over his head, and as if to confirm your suspicions, he said, “Then, I guess Vicky and I will stay and check if there’s any blind spots.”

You nodded. It was settled. You were going to be traveling with Haechan to hopefully locate a shotgun, and you prayed you didn’t make things awkward in the process. Entire lives were dependent upon this treasure hunt. 

Haechan gingerly grabbed your arm and led you out of the gym with slow, cautious steps, neither of which you argued against. He was falling back into that familiar pattern of the way things used to be. “Let’s go before we meet any unwelcome visitors,” was all he said. 

Maybe you were falling back too. It was easier now you were terrified half to death and in abundant need of emotional support, because it was perfectly reasonable that you were clinging onto his body for dear life. And if anybody asked, your excuse would be that you just needed a companion. 

The front office was very far away, on the total opposite end of the school, which meant that there was ample time to hash out the obvious elephant in the room, the unspoken fracture in your relationship. Something you had no plans to do, but Haechan wasn’t on the same page. He had only let you go by force, not by will. 

Haechan lasted a whole five minutes and half before he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I feel like we have something to talk about.”

You peered up at him, briefly giving the hallway a break from your scoping to meet his eyes which were already locked on you. Your heart flipped. “Something like the fact that we all might die?”

Haechan almost rolled his eyes. He could tell you were actually worried, but he could also tell that this monster outbreak was convenient for you. It lent you the perfect opportunity to deflect your feelings, which you had always been exceptional at doing. With everyone except him, of course. “Is that your final guess?”

You didn’t need to guess. You already knew, you just didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t think right now is a good time.”

“Now or never, beautiful,” he flirted, persistent. 

You would think he would behave as if he had more situational awareness, all things considered. But Haechan would always be unapologetically himself, even if the world was ending. That was what you had loved about him to a fault. “What is there to talk about? It’s been years.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, like that was his very point. “I miss you.”

Your eyes widened a little more than they should have. Haechan had always been adamant and shameless. “I miss you too,” you confessed with some reluctance. 

Haechan raised a brow, delighted. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that and it only encouraged him to see what else he could push you into admitting. And he was very much unafraid of riling you up solely to pull it off. “How can you miss me when you left me?” he asked, feigning annoyance. 

Like he expected, you immediately bristled. You had spoken to him in depth about the rationale behind your departure, the damaged relationship with your parents and how you wanted to take control of your own life. He knew exactly why you’d skipped town. “Are you serious?”

Haechan kept going, “I loved you so much, and you just left me and everything we could have had together. Everything we should have had.”

You had never been one to raise your voice, so it was ironic that in the one situation where you suddenly became overwhelmed by the urge, it would have been the stupidest mistake you could’ve made at the moment. “You know why I left,” you replied, willing yourself to remain calm. “You told me you understood.”

Haechan shrugged. “I do understand. That doesn’t change how I feel.”

That only made you angrier and you asked, “What did you want me to do? Stay here for you at my own expense? Knowing I was miserable here?”

“We could have figured something out,” Haechan replied, although even he didn’t believe that. Not anymore, at least. When he was younger, he used to be bitter and think about ways to keep you together. Now it sounded like a fairytale. 

You shook your head. “I never wanted to leave you, you know that. You were never the problem. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and wonder how you’re doing. So don’t act like I ran away on our wedding day or something.”

Haechan softened, almost dropping the act. Hearing that made thunder shoot through his heart. You still thought about him and pictured his face, the same way he still pictured yours? “You still think about me?”

You wondered if you’d been too honest. Seeing the remorseful look in his eyes, you were starting to piece together that he was deliberately provoking you to get the reaction he was looking for, and you chastised yourself for falling into his trap. “You’re fucking with me.”

With nothing to say in his defense, Haechan merely grinned. “It took you this long to notice? I’m unimpressed. And severely disappointed.”

You suppressed a sound of annoyance, even though you were relieved. He was still making you think about things you’d rather not think about and feel things you’d rather not feel. Those old emotions were coming back up. Buried, but uncovered. They were never dead, they just didn’t have anything to trigger them until now. 

The thing about your breakup with Haechan was that it was a completely mutual, amicable decision. There was never any animosity. Maybe it would be easier to let him go if you’d hated him, but Haechan had done nothing but be both an amazing boyfriend and your best friend. Things just didn’t work out. 

At the end of the day, you chose to put yourself first. And it was the best thing you could have ever done for yourself and for your happiness, but you were never not thinking about who else it affected. “You could have just asked me how I feel,” you murmured. 

“Would you have told me?” Haechan asked, a knowing look on his face. 

You were silent for a long while, which made the answer a dead giveaway. “That’s not fair.”

“When have you ever known me to play fair? I gotta make sure I always win somehow,” Haechan said, deliberately bumping into you ever so gently to make you sway. 

You stumbled a little, but Haechan was quick to help you steady yourself. He hadn’t forgotten about the monsters roaming the school, supposedly inside now even though you’d both yet to see or hear any. You sighed and said, “Yeah, nothing about you is fair.”

It wasn’t fair. That he was so goddamn handsome, even more than he had been a whole decade ago, with those same kissable lips that had gotten you in trouble more times than you could count. That every second you weren’t here was another second he probably had his tongue down another girl’s throat. And that life had forced you into a cold compromise. 

Haechan didn’t know if you could tell whether he’d been serious or not, but for some reason, he felt the need to clarify. “Hey, for the record, I wasn’t lying when I said I miss you. I really do. You were my first love.” And my last too. 

“And you were mine,” you replied, a vague but all too familiar feeling slowly festering in your stomach as you locked eyes with him. The dangerous recklessness you got whenever he was in arm’s reach. 

What Haechan didn’t know was that he was the one who had given you the courage to leave. You had been the girl with a major stick up her ass before you met him. He was quick and witty and impulsive. He had shown you that you could be more than what your parents envisioned for you and you didn’t have to be afraid of breaking the mold. 

Haechan was strategically stopping you both at every corner, making sure to check the next hall before you ventured that direction. He used this opportunity to pull you flush against him, his hand brushing against your forearm so faintly it almost tickled. “I do still think about what could have been,” he admitted quietly. “But I know that’s not what you needed.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow for the both of you, but there was no denying that it was true. You couldn’t go straight to getting married and having kids with him, even if you loved him. You would have been trapped in a marriage that defined you, with no way of knowing who you really were or what you were really capable of. “Johnny told me you’re single,” you told him, faint. 

Haechan nodded, watching the way your hands clasped onto his leather. There was a whole whirlwind of memories blurring through his mind. “Yeah. I’m not built for a romantic life. I’m hard and fast.”

You could have laughed, but you were being mindful of your noise levels. Haechan reminded you of the metropolis - always on the grind, always in motion. He would have loved the city you’d moved to. “If I remember correctly, you’re bold, loyal and passionate. All good things. What’s stopping you from being like Johnny?”

“I never found another you,” Haechan whispered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your breath was out the window entirely. So many years had gone by, but he was still irrevocably stuck on you. “You want another one of me?”

“Don’t be crazy,” Haechan said, shaking his hand. “I want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I decided a long time ago that if I can’t have you, then I’ll die by myself.”

He sounded so sure, so resolved. Like he had completely eliminated all other options. No matter how hard he tried, he would never find someone who measured up to the standard you had set for him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching for his hand, and replied, “You’re not dying alone.”

Haechan lifted a brow. Your left hand was already intertwined with his right hand, so to be holding both of his hands might have seemed like overkill, but it made his heart race with a breed of thrill that he’d been convinced was long gone. 

After passing by a few more hallways and miraculously staying clear of any zombies, you finally reached the front office. Haechan opened the double doors and held them for you while you walked inside. 

The office was completely empty. No one was there, although that didn’t necessarily come as a shock. Your first thought was to try using the phone to get in contact with the outside world, but that didn’t work either. You exhaled deeply, frustrated. 

Haechan put a comforting hand on your back and led you to the principal’s office. “Let’s see what he’s got in here.”

You glanced around. The two of you had been here, together, more than once. You were lovebirds and the teachers hated to see it. They also had hated to see you fucking in the locker room, which you had gotten mandatory lunch detention for a week because of. Then, it got extended to two weeks, because you wouldn’t stop passing notes behind the teacher’s back. 

The memory made your breath hitch. It was all you could do not to sweat on the spot like a total idiot. You never knew who you were when you were with Haechan, but you liked her. 

“You gotta be quiet, baby,” Haechan told you, whispering in your ear. His hands were secure on your waist, supporting you as you sat on his thighs. 

The boys’ locker room was void of life, save for the two of you stacked on one of the brand new benches. With how hard you were riding him, Haechan felt like you were stealing his soul and giving him life all at the same time. You were his God and he had every intention of worshiping you like the beautiful deity you were. 

You clammed your hands on his shoulders to anchor yourself, knowing you would sink into an endless reservoir of him otherwise. “I’m trying,” you whined. 

“Try harder,” Haechan said, despite knowing damn well that you were doing your absolute best not to make any noise. It was hard; the way he filled you turned you into a lawless animal. 

In retaliation, you yanked his hair, drawing a loud whine out of him. He hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t complaining. He was your beautiful boy with a very advanced pain kink. You slowly rode to the tip of his dick, tugging his head back by his dark strands, and locked eyes with him for a long while. 

Haechan breathlessly met your gaze. The eye contact was intense. It was like you were staring into each other’s souls, searching for fire and being burned by its passion. Then, you tightened your grip on his messy black hair and pulled him for an even messier kiss. 

It was out of control. There was no rhythm, no rhyme. If anybody was watching, they would have assumed you were two hopeless virgins that didn’t know what to do with each other. Your lips met in a wild clash of teeth and tongues, drinking in one another like you were starving. 

Haechan was a wreck. The things you did to him were unspeakable. Your body was his favorite addiction and fucking you in a locker room that neither of you had any business inside of (he never played sports) was arguably an incredible source of adrenaline. Kissing you always made his heart throb with a mind of its own. 

As if the pleasure wasn’t already soaring high, you slammed back down on his cock in the middle of the kiss, and Haechan moaned into your mouth. He broke away, arms tightening around your waist. “Fuck.”

You giggled, having expected that reaction. You knew what he liked, and you knew what he loved. “What was that about being quiet?”

Haechan tipped his head back. You were making him insane with lust, with need. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I think I’m riding you crazy,” you purred, continuing to roll your hips. You wanted to see him unravel, to see him break, even if you already knew what that sight looked like. You were picturing it in your head. His flushed face, his parted lips, and his whiny moans. 

“Fuck,” Haechan repeated, unable to conjure up any other words in his mind that would adequately convey the feelings you gave him.

You chuckled, because you knew exactly what he was going through and it made you very satisfied with yourself. You could feel it too. The ecstasy hammering through you in waves of warmth, submerging you beneath its surface. It was a potent drug of its own lethality, but that never stopped you from getting too close to the edge.

The point of no return. You had crossed it the second Haechan tempted you into becoming this wanton version of yourself. A girl who had tasted pleasure and was now on a perpetual journey to feel that good again. You never wanted to stop. You couldn’t stop. 

“You feel so good,” you whispered, steadying yourself with his shoulders again. You knew you had been impatient, knew this could have waited until after school, but he made you crave him to an extent that you had never craved anything before. 

Haechan swallowed, fighting for breath. The way your voice sounded when you were nearing the brink of climax would be the death of him. He moved his hand underneath your skirt, steering them to your ass where he knew you liked being touched. Your mouth opened, a few soft pants escaping. 

You were nothing short of ravenous as you rode him with enough vigor to bend heaven and earth to your will. This was the taking, the conquering. Haechan belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. The animal inside you was slowly but surely losing the battle against the woman.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming,” Haechan whispered, his face tensing as he wrestled with his impending orgasm. You could tell he was trying to fight it, not wanting to come just yet, but it was too late. His fate was sealed. 

You didn’t slow down like some people would think to do. You went faster. Haechan cursed underneath his breath, mumbling something about how you must have been trying to kill him, and surrendered to your body. If this was how he died, with you on top of him making his dick feel things he never knew were possible, then so be it.  

The entire locker room was filled with your shared sounds. His moans and yours and the wet squelch of your bodies meeting. It was almost suffocating. With how hot and stuffy the air seemed, you would have thought one of the showers were running. 

Haechan couldn’t take it anymore and he shuddered with climax, overcome by how ruthlessly you were riding him. His nails dug into your hips with more force than he intended, but you didn’t mind the pain. If anything, the sting only encouraged you. You soaked in the way he cried out your name and felt your own body approaching the brink.

“Good boy,” you whispered in his ear, not stopping. You weren’t done with him yet.

Haechan felt his mouth run dry. You were completely in control right now, completely in charge of his body, mind and soul. You fucking owned him and he wasn’t ashamed to shout it from the rooftops. No one would ever come close to satisfying him the way you did.

Your hips moved faster as you endeavor to finish yourself, using his cock to get yourself off. Which, to Haechan, was the hottest thing ever. He didn’t mind being at your disposal one bit, especially if it meant he got to watch in awe as you drove yourself to the end. 

And his cock could stay hard for almost just as long as you needed it to. There was something about you that he never got tired of. The body never lied, and his was obsessed with your entire existence. 

You finally reached your climax, your mouth hanging wide open while you came with soft gasps. Your hands were tightly braced onto Haechan’s shoulders as the heat wrecked through you from head to toe. It was a powerful orgasm and you enjoyed every second of it. Haechan did too. You throbbed around his dick and made that pretty fucking face he couldn’t get enough of. 

Haechan was still trying to collect his breath when you stilled against him. He laced his arms around your back, pulling you close. “My god. That was crazy.”

You nodded in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder in place of your hands and moving them to his chest. “And you said I couldn’t be a dom.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, calling me ‘good boy’ doesn’t make you a dom, beautiful.”

“You seemed to really like it though,” you quipped, never skipping out on the opportunity to tease him. 

“You could piss in my coffee and I would like it.”

You grimaced, climbing off of him. “Way to ruin the mood, babe.”

Haechan laughed. He grabbed you, pulling you flush against him, and smashed his lips against yours. 

You smiled into the kiss. 

That was one of many times you’d had sex together in that room, and fortunately the only one you’d gotten caught doing it. You remembered how heavenly it felt to be tangled in his arms, to be closer than close and as threaded together as you were physically allowed. 

Haechan had meant everything to you. That man shook your world. He showed you how to reject expectations and to unabashedly live in your truth. He taught you how to be bold, how to be brave, and how to stand up for yourself. And he had loved you the way you deserved to be loved, without conditions. He loved you just because you were you. 

It had got you thinking. If there was more to life than your grapple with control and festering resentment for your emotionally unavailable mother and emotionally unstable father, if someone could love you without you having to stretch yourself thin to meet some golden standard, then there had to be another route you could take other than the one you’d resigned yourself to so long ago.

So you made the decision to leave. And sometimes you looked back, but you never regretted it. You did what was in your best interest and you were a happier person now that you lived somewhere where your parents couldn’t steal your whole life away.

“Earth to my beautiful queen,” Haechan said, waving his hand in front of your face.

You blinked in surprise and stepped back. When the hell did he get in front of you? “Sorry. I spaced out.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Haechan replied, chuckling. “What were you thinking about?”

Your face burned. Like hell you were going to tell him that you had been reminiscing about the time you rode him halfway to hell in the fucking locker room. “Nothing. I just went somewhere else for a minute.”

Haechan smirked, but if he had any inkling about where your mind had wandered, he didn’t say a word about it. “Well, I need you here. I think Principal Myeong’s gun is in that safe, but it has a code.”

You glanced over to the safe he’d pointed to. It was definitely big enough to harbor a shotgun, which you doubted was even legal for him to have on campus, but you weren’t necessarily eager to get into that at the moment. “If I was Principal Myeong, what would be my safe code?”

Haechan shrugged, thinking about it. “His mom’s birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed. “How in the hell would we figure that out?”

Again, Haechan shrugged his shoulders. He was just spitting things out. “How the hell should I know? Look in his calendar.”

“He has to hate his mother if he doesn’t remember her birthday,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You were also convinced that with his age, she was probably dead. But to your surprise, his mother’s birthday was marked in his calendar. 

When Haechan entered the number, however, the safe didn’t unlock. 

He groaned. “Damn. Maybe he’s a Daddy’s boy.”

You snickered and stepped away from the calendar on the wall to join him beside the safe. “Come on. If you were Principal Myeong, what would your safe code be?”

Haechan tried to think. He was pondering hard, judging from the look on his face. “I have no idea. Probably the address of Mrs. Kim’s husband.”

You giggled. There had been rumors, back in the day, that your former biology teacher was sleeping with the principal. After that, there were even more rumors that she and her husband had separated. “Try her birthday. I remember it, because she wouldn’t shut up about a birthday trip to the Bahamas. November twelfth.”

Haechan didn’t look too convinced, but he entered the numbers anyway, looking bored as all hell.

The look on his face when it actually clicked open was priceless.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re a genius.”

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been expecting it to actually work. “Um, I feel like I know too much information now.”

Haechan laughed and did the honor of retrieving the shotgun from the safe, which, for some reason, he knew how to check for ammunition. “She’s loaded,” he said casually.

You raised a brow. “Why do you know how to do that?”

“I saw someone do it on a show,” Haechan replied offhandedly. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, brother,” you groaned. This weapon was not in good hands. 

Haechan chuckled at your obvious doubt. “Don’t worry. No one will get hurt who doesn’t need to.” 

You didn’t know if you should have believed him, but you hoped that you could. There was no way in hell you were going to take it off his hands. The idea of carrying any kind of weapon capable of discharging a lethal projectile was thoroughly unappealing to someone like you. 

With few other options, you exhaled through your nose and replied, “Fine, but if someone does get hurt because of this, I reject all accountability.”

“Fine by me,” Haechan chirped, sounding so confident in himself. “Let’s go, beautiful. We had a smooth trip here, so I’m hoping for one back.”

Only five minutes later, you saw Jaehyun and Taeyong running down the hallway like they were being chased by a killer with a chainsaw.

“What the hell?” you whispered under your breath. 

Taeyong saw you both first and he started gesturing down the hall with his free hand, the other clasping tightly onto a first aid kit. “Move. Move. Move!”

You didn’t remember zombies being particularly quick if the movies checked out, so for them to be in such a hurry, you had to assume there were many of them in close proximity. That was enough to make you snatch Haechan’s hand and start sprinting down the hallway like you had everything to lose. 

“How many?” Haechan asked as the two of you started running more or less beside the others. 

“Way too goddamn many to count,” Jaehyun said through labored pants. He looked damn near out of breath, but if needed, he would run until his legs gave out. 

That was some of the worst news you could have received at the moment. The gym was on the totally opposite side of the school and running there from where you were would exhaust you thoroughly. To say nothing of the fact that there was no telling where else they were located on this floor. There could have been more ahead. 

“Haechan,” you called out. “Can you shoot any of them?”

Haechan glanced back for a split second. He could see a crowd of zombies distantly making their way around the corner, but they were far enough that you could lose them if you kept moving. “I could, but I don’t think that’s necessary if we can make it back to the gym first. We don’t need to waste bullets.”

He made a decent point. With how many monsters were currently in the building right now and how many you didn’t even know were around in total, it would be in your best interest to keep yourselves safe and capable of fighting back. “That’s fair.”

You stayed close to Haechan as you ran. That belligerent hammering had returned to your chest, only this time you could hear it thumping against your ears too. It was like playing a scary game with a threatening, demonic soundtrack reverberating in the back, only this was real life. 

When you least expected it, another pack of zombies emerged from the hallway on your left and you had to do an abrupt zigzag to stay out of arm’s reach. You managed to steer away at the last second, but Jaehyun wasn’t so fortunate. Three zombies got a hold of him and one bit him on his shoulder. 

You gawked in unadulterated horror as Jaehyun let out a blood-curdling scream, sinking onto his knees. “Jae,” you cried, letting go of Haechan’s hand and rushing to pull him back. 

Jaehyun grappled your leg and scraped his nails over your exposed calf, making you holler out in pain, and you jolted back as he bore his teeth like he was preparing to sink them into you. 

Taeyong pulled you away while Haechan started opening fire on anyone that dared go near you, thankfully sparing Jaehyun. The wounded monsters slowed, but they didn’t stop chasing. It gave you just enough advantage to outrun them all. The second you were a safe distance apart, the boys started dragging you away. 

It was even harder to run with the bloody scratch on your leg, but you gave it all you had to offer, mustering the strength to push forward. You could barely think. You just knew you had to keep going and you couldn’t stop until you were somewhere safe. 

The closest possible place on the first floor was the library and the three of you barreled inside like you had a flight to catch that was about to leave with you, bursting through the doors without a second thought. You knelt on the floor and watched as the boys started to barricade the door off with anything they could find. 

As soon as they were pleased with the numbers of book-heavy carts shoved in front of the door, Taeyong rushed to your side with the first aid kid, opening it immediately. “Are you okay? How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, obviously still shaken up. Your mind was still struggling to process and accept what had happened. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“You could have gotten bit,” Haechan said, filling in the blanks. He sounded angry. “Why would you do that?”

Your eyes flickered in surprise. “Jaehyun’s our friend. I wanted to help him, just like you guys helped me. How was I supposed to know he was going to try and bite me?”

Haechan tempered, realizing he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

You cursed as Taeyong started to clean the wound. It was shocking for a scratch caused by human nails, but nothing that you would have to worry about long term. None of which stopped it from stinging like a bitch. 

Taeyong draped your leg over his knee so that he could access it better, all the while Haechan hovered over you both with a worried look. “Is it deep?” the latter asked.

“Like she said, it could have been a hell of a lot worse,” Taeyong replied, attentively tending to your injury. His face softened every time he heard you hiss. “She’ll be okay. It’s not that bad.”

Haechan sighed in relief. He hated the thought of anything going bad with you. One wrong move or late reaction and you would have been as good as dead. 

After a few minutes, Taeyong put a bandaid on your scrape and said that you were as good as new, closing the kit back. You all waited a few minutes to gauge whether or not the coast was clear, quickly and meticulously making your way back to the gym before there could be any encores. 

The three of you released a collective breath of relief when you stepped inside, immediately catching the attention of Johnny and Victoria.

Ever attentive, the former was quick to notice the bandaid on your leg, which most definitely hadn’t been there before, and asked, “Damn, already? What happened to her?”

You shook your head, not wanting to think about it. “I’m fine,” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say. All that you had left to recover from was the fresh wound of what you’d just lost. 

Johnny was confused by your curt answer. He immediately sensed that something wasn’t right and glanced between the three of you. “What did you say it like that for? And where’s Jaehyun?”

No one said anything. You looked at the ground. Taeyong swallowed the lump in his throat. How did you tell someone that their best friend since childhood was bitten and taken by undead monsters?

The only one with enough courage to tell him the truth, Haechan spoke up, “He’s gone, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face went grim. His lips parted, but Victoria beat him to a word, exclaiming, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

Haechan ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath, and explained, “He got bit. They blindsided us. There was nothing we could do.” 

“You left him?” Johnny asked incredulously. 

“There was nothing we could do,” Haechan replied again, firmer. 

Johnny tensed in a blend of anger and frustration and heartache. Victoria took him into her arms and that was the last thing you saw before you tore your eyes away and went to sit on the bleachers again. You couldn’t bear to watch him suffer through the same grief wrecking through your body like an infectious virus. 

If not worse. You knew what Jaehyun meant to Johnny. You all did. They were brothers, blood be damned. You knew that if you lost your brother you would never be the same, and that thought had you actively fearing for Mark’s life. Every second he wasn’t here was another second he could be dead or infected. 

It was all you could do not to pace around the gym like a mad woman with way too much caffeine in her system. You were worried sick, giving it your all not to assume the worst, but it was much easier said than done. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst had yet to come. 

Haechan was standing in the corner with a blank look on his face, most likely trying to process the trauma of watching his friend get dragged away by monsters. You wondered if you should talk to him. It would be a good way to take both your minds off the dark side of today. 

Who else would you talk to anyway? Johnny looked half a second away from falling apart. Victoria was selflessly trying to console him in the midst of her own despair. Taeyong looked like he was struggling with guilt and didn’t want to be bothered. 

The only one you figured could alleviate the persistent thoughts racing through your head at a thousand miles per hour was Haechan. He had been good at it in the past, making everything seem okay in the face of adversity even though that with every second spent apart, you had thought your world was crumbling. 

You had to stay on top of what you could control, because those were the only things you had right now. The tension was tight as hell and you were overwhelmingly aware of the odds here. You guys had phones, but no signal. No way to contact people and alert them that you were in danger. And attempting to evacuate the school would be too risky. 

You had no idea what was out there waiting for you, nor did you have any desire to find out. The sneak peek in the hallway with Jaehyun was more than enough. 

Finally, you mustered the courage to approach him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it immediately after, and announced, “I have a question.”

Haechan lifted a brow, expectant. “Hit me.”

“Do you still stay hard after you come?”

Haechan’s eyes went wide with shock at your question for all of two seconds before he burst into laughter. “Jesus, woman,” he replied, taken aback. “What kind of question is that?”

You shrugged. The sound of his laugh was still melodious, like a heaven choir. “I was just wondering.”

“I see,” Haechan said with amusement, bobbing his head. “And to answer your question, I only stayed hard for you because you really turned me on.”

You blinked. Well, that was certainly an answer. “Oh. Wow.”

Haechan didn’t seem to think it was all that surprising. “Yeah. Wow, right?”

You laughed, glancing away. It was ironic that you had been the one to ask him such a bold question and now you were getting shy.

Haechan observed your body language. He could see that you had gotten flustered, but that wasn’t what stood out to him. You looked startled, tense. And you had every right to be. “I’d ask you if you were okay, but I can tell that you’re not,” he said softly. 

You smiled thinly. It was all you could muster at the moment, all things considered. “I used to think that running away from home and leaving behind everything I knew, everyone I loved, would be the scariest thing I ever did. But this? This is some spooky shit.”

“I thought losing you forever would be the scariest thing for me,” Haechan whispered. “And I still do.”

Everything about that confession broke your heart. You had never wanted to make him feel like that. Haechan could never lose you, not when it was the picture of his face and the memory of his love that used to get you through every day. You sighed. “Why did we stop being together?”

Haechan almost chuckled. He didn’t know if you were seriously asking, but he decided to humor you. “We wanted different things out of life. You wanted to go find yourself in the big city and I never got bored of home.”

You snorted. “How ironic.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. After all, this city wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t as big as your new one either. You just wanted a change of pace. And Haechan, for all his hatred of routine, had struggled to accept that. “I think I still love you. Because when I saw your face for the first time today, it gave me hope. And now that we’re standing here, not knowing what’s next, all I feel is dread.”

You could feel that dread too. It wrapped its calloused hand around your throat and asphyxiated you. “Do you remember the night before I left?”

Haechan nodded, face tensing with something wistful. “I don’t think I can ever forget it. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

You remembered it too. It was the last night you ever saw Haechan face to face. You were twenty years old, moving out of the house you had spent every single last one those years trapped inside of, and about to kiss goodbye the single best relationship you’d ever had. And the first one that had really meant something special. 

Haechan’s room was dark, but you could see enough thanks to the moonlight penetrating through his window with the curtains drawn open. You had been staying in his house for the past week and making love every day while his parents weren’t home. 

Even then, he was on top of you, rocking into you with languid thrusts. It wasn’t really his style, but it was also the nth round of many and you were both tired. Though he couldn’t get enough of your body and he didn’t want to be apart from you knowing that not a moment of your relationship wouldn’t matter the second you boarded your flight in the morning. 

So this one had to count for something. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered. You thought you would be saying that a lot lately, but the reality was that you had held your tongue for the past week, desperate to ignore the finality in every action you took. 

Haechan had been hoping you wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to miss you - he was going to be sick to his stomach without you, but he didn’t need a reminder that you were leaving him, even if it stared him in the face every day. You may not have realized it, but every time you made eye contact, you looked at him like you were about to leave your heart in his lap.

“I’m gonna miss you more. You have no idea,” Haechan said, forgoing his grip on your hips to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

You squeezed his hand, closing your eyes and releasing a shaky breath. “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

Haechan recoiled in surprise. “Why would I ever hate you?”

You shook your head. You knew it was irrational. That being said, that didn’t stop you from being afraid of what was to come in the very near future. “I just… I thought you would feel betrayed. We made a lot of promises together and now we’re breaking them because I can’t be here anymore.”

Haechan sucked in a breath. He figured it would be best to think over what he was going to say before he let it spill from his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you. I understand why you’re leaving and I’m happy for you, because I know that you’ll be happier there.”

“What if I leave and it’s not what I’m hoping for it to be?” you asked. 

Haechan countered promptly, “What if you leave and it’s everything you want it to be and more?”

“Everything I want and more would be for us to go to a whimsical place far away from here where we can be together until the day we die, but that’s not realistic.”

“Dreams are never realistic. That’s what makes them dreams. It’s up to you to make them real,” Haechan replied, meeting your eyes and never daring to look away no matter how much it pained him. 

You sighed. He could be so wise when he wanted to be.

Haechan took a minute to collect himself and continued, “I want you to chase your dreams, baby. Even if it hurts me in the process. Because what would hurt me more is knowing that you’re unsatisfied and putting up with something just because you think it’s what I want.”

In that moment, you finally realized how lucky you had gotten with him. You always knew you were lucky, but right now you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And at the same time, you felt like fate wasn’t on your side. “I’m so scared, Haechan.”

“I’m scared for you,” he admitted, poignant. “My mind keeps screaming with thoughts of things that could go wrong with you out there in some big city all by yourself.”

“But?”

Haechan gave you a look. “What do you mean? But nothing. I’m scared and I wish things were different so that you could stay here.”

That made you laugh for some reason. Maybe because you weren’t expecting it. 

The sound of your laughter eased some of the tension in his heart. He asked, “You know what scares me more though?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and droned, “I know, I know. The thought of me not being happy and sacrificing my dreams just so that we can be together.”

Haechan shook his head. “No,” he blurted out. Then, he thought about it. “Well, yes, that too, but I was going to say the thought of you not being mine. I’m terrified of you moving on and forgetting about me.”

You frowned, bringing your hand to his cheek with the tenderness he’d always loved about you. “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me. You give me strength. I’m not gonna lie, if it weren’t for you, I probably would have slit my wrists a long time ago.”

Haechan winced. “Damn, baby.”

You smiled thinly, watching his eyes close and his face rub against your palm as you gently soothed him. He would forever be a slave to your touch. “I know. But you being there for me has changed my life for the better. And even if we never see each other again, I’ll still remember your face. Your voice. The way you laugh and the way you make me think. I’ll always carry a piece of you inside my heart.”

“And you’ll be walking with all of mine,” Haechan told you fondly, losing himself in you. 

In more ways than one. You couldn’t remember how long you two had stayed there, pleasuring each other until you were too sore to take any more and too weak to keep your eyes from closing. You just knew that you had been cocooned in his embrace, arms and legs coiled snugly around him, wishing you didn’t have to let him go. 

You still could see the heartbroken pain on his face he tried (and failed) to hide as he watched you leave that following morning. 

“It was so hard to walk away after that,” you confessed, slumping against the wall. “I knew that if I looked back, I would run right back into your arms.”

Haechan dropped beside you and lowered his head onto your shoulder. “Then I’m glad you never looked back. There was always this sadness to you, even when you tried to hide it from us. I don’t feel that from you now.”

You were happier. You were in a place where you felt like you could be yourself, surrounded by friends you trusted and found reliable. No one passed any judgment. But none of that would matter if you didn’t make it back home. “I hope it’s not all for nothing.”

“It’s not all for nothing,” Haechan replied sternly. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, believing him. You would all be fine. Everything would be okay.

The lights flickered on in the hallway, drawing everyone’s attention to the door, and you could see through its window. They were motion activated, which meant someone was coming. You swallowed, wondering whether to expect Mark, some monsters, or a secret third option. 

You thanked God himself when you saw Mark barge through the door with Xiu, holding a basket of snacks. 

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” you told Haechan, standing up on your legs. “You want anything?”

Haechan shook his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry.”

You were tempted to press, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you left it alone and walked away. He was hardly blinking but he didn’t seem tired like you were after so much sprinting. You knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts to the extent of neglecting himself and you were beginning to get a little worried. 

Mark saw you approaching him and dropped everything (he literally dropped the snacks) to throw his arms around you securely. You squeaked in surprise but welcomed it nonetheless. “Oh my god. I can’t breathe. Mark, when did you get so strong?”

“I’m so sorry I dragged you here,” he apologized, penitent. “If I had known that this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have forced you to show up against your will.”

You didn’t spare a second in responding, “Mark, don’t you dare apologize. Absolutely none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Mark still felt guilty. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was to blame for some of this. “I know, but I’m the only reason you came. And if I didn’t make you come here, you would’ve been safe. You would’ve never gotten hurt.”

You sighed. “It’s just a scratch, Mark.”

“Right now it’s just a scratch. I hope to God that’s the most any of us get,” Mark huffed. He was annoyed, but not with you. With himself. 

You hoped so too. No matter what amount of unfinished stood between anyone, no one deserved to die. You didn’t want a day intended for celebration and unity to end with mourning and grief. And even then, that ship had sailed. 

Mark nudged your side with his elbow. “How’s Haechan doing? I see you guys haven’t left each other alone. And you were so scared of running into him.”

You mustered a smile. You had been so convinced that reuniting with your old lover would be the worst thing to happen today. “Yeah, it’s funny. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. He’s still the same boy I fell in love with, but eight years older and eight years wiser.”

“Is he holding up okay?”

“I think he’s holding up better than anyone in the room, to be honest,” you answered with a nod, glancing back at Haechan. He was still sitting by the wall, stoic as ever. “He’s really brave and super strong. Always has been.”

Mark followed your gaze. The tenacity was something he could appreciate and definitely something needed when half of you were on the verge of losing your shit. Even Johnny was grappling with defeat. “He’s the kind of person you need. The kind of person you deserve.”

There was a dull throbbing in your heart. It was an ache that you’d suppressed for many years and it’d finally had its fill of being locked away. It needed attention. “He said he still loves me, you know.”

“And what did you say?” Mark asked expectantly.

You shrugged. Obviously, you knew, but the whole thing still seemed surreal to you - not just the monsters. You had been half expecting hatred, resentment and dismissal. Not affection and compassion. “I didn’t say it back, if that’s what you’re asking. Not directly, at least. But I think he understood. He and I have always had a way of communicating.”

Mark bobbed his head in agreement and replied, “Yeah, that’s true. I still can’t see you with anybody else. You two belong together and I hope that when we make it out of here, you guys can work things out.”

You grinned softly. No matter what, you and Haechan had always been the couple that everybody wanted together. It made you happy to know people still felt that way, because you did too. But you chose to deflect, asking, “What about you and Xiu?”

“I wanna make things work with her too. I’ve had a crush on her for the longest,” Mark confessed, turning his head to look at her. She was a few feet behind him consoling Johnny and Victoria. 

You nodded, pleased that Mark had found his match. He had been as unhappy in love as you were. It was in the genes, even if he wasn’t your blood brother. “Oh, I know. I think everybody knows. You were never exactly subtle. But I have to give credit where credit is due, and it’s crazy that she’s all over you now. What did you do?”

To your surprise, Mark started giggling mischievously. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant. “Nevermind. Spare me the details.”

Mark threw his hands up. “Hey, that’s just life, you know? Things work out when they’re supposed to.”

You had been about to reflect on the remarkably wise words spoken to you, but everyone quickly noticed the faint thump resounding in the hallway as the lights flickered on, indicating that someone was approaching. The dialogue faded. It was so quiet that all you could hear was your quickening pulse.

All of the boys were on high alert. Taeyong, who was already on edge, rooted in place like a rock. Johnny glanced up from where he’d been sitting with his face in his hands, tapping his foot. Haechan made his way over to investigate. And Mark stood in front of you protectively. 

It was like a dam breaking. There was a split second of peace before a pack of zombies barged in through both entrances, and your whole body went into panic mode. You couldn’t breathe and your immediate instinct was to take flight, but there was nowhere else to go. You were trapped. 

Startled beyond belief and terrified for her life, Xiu ran over to where you and Mark were standing in shock as everything rapidly unfolded, grasping his arms and joining you behind him. At the moment, it felt like the safest place to be.

Haechan was quick to draw his weapon and start opening fire on the gory monsters in front of you, but there was no way he could defeat them all. There were too many. The sound of gunshots made you recoil harder and you shrunk in on yourself, willing yourself not to sob. 

In the blink of an eye, they were cornering Victoria like a knot of hungry sharks. Johnny cried out her name and didn’t think twice about advancing on the hungry creatures, knocking two of them dead onto the ground with his fist. 

When Johnny spun around to grab her and lead her away from the others, Victoria bit into his face. 

You closed your eyes when you heard his screams, knowing that there was nothing you could do for either of them now. The infection spread within them too quickly. It had been like that with Jaehyun too; one second he was the sweet boy you’d always known, and the very next, he was trying to drag you into the void with him. 

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Taeyong getting drowned into a sea of monsters. He resisted, thrashing against them and kicking his legs, but to no avail. You lost sight of his face as he was swallowed beneath them to be feasted on like a rotting dead animal.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. What you were hearing. The wound of grief from earlier was still too fresh and you weren’t afforded the opportunity to process the second and third losses before Taeyong was stolen from you too. He shouted out in pain, but the sound was muffled as he was overpowered. You would never forget those agonized cries for as long as you lived. 

Haechan accidentally shot one of them in the head and it dropped to the ground, its body twitching for a few seconds before it stilled completely. You gawked, eyes widening. That was how you killed the dead. 

He seemed equally stunned, but there was no time to waste in lying around waiting to die. “We need to go,” he said in a tone that would brook no argument. 

As sick as it sounded, you knew he was right. You needed to leave while it was still an option. You were outnumbered. The monsters were still focused on Taeyong and they wouldn’t be distracted by him for much longer. It was now or never. 

“There’s an emergency exit door in the storage room,” said Mark, gesturing for you all to follow him with a rapid blur of his hands. 

The remaining three of you paced behind him as quickly as you could without drawing attention to yourselves. As much as you hated having to leave them there for dead, you had to prioritize survival. You tried to tell yourself that they would have wanted you to leave. Whatever you needed to do to convince yourself that you were making the right choice. 

Fortunately, the storage room was unlocked, and all four of you charged inside, maneuvering between several racks of spare basketballs and sports equipment and sundries. You had no idea where the exit door led to specifically, but you had no other option than to fuck around and find out.

You ended up halfway out of the school. There was a fence within a fence, bringing you outside, but still within the outermost perimeter. It was a dangerous place to be, considering most of the monsters were roaming outdoors and you had no way of escaping the relatively tall gates of your school. 

The innermost fence, on the other hand, while definitely all, was still climbable. Your school was a prison no one had been talented enough to sneak out of, but that didn’t mean no one had ever tried. And you and Haechan had gotten pretty good at hopping over the inner fence to take a detour to the garden shack for some alone time. 

Mark looked at the fence in disapproval. There was a gate, but it was obviously locked. No one other than the coaches and custodians likely knew the code. “What fucking security freaks, dude.”

Haechan looked toward you. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

You nodded reluctantly. It had been a minute since you’d needed to hop a fence, but you couldn’t stay here. You had to go back inside the school. 

Xiu caught on and she didn’t like it one bit. “No way you guys are seriously thinking about climbing the fence.” 

“Do you have a better idea?” Haechan asked impatiently. 

Mark narrowed his eyes at Haechan. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s scared of heights.”

“And I’m scared of getting my brains chewed out by zombies and turning into one like the rest of our friends. You two can stay here, but I’m hopping the fence.”

“Hey, chill out,” you said, putting your hands up and glancing between the both of them before things got ugly. “There’s no point in any of this if you’re both just gonna kill each other. We need to hop the fence. Now.”

Mark sighed, turning towards Xiu. “I can carry you over, if you want.”

Xiu shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

Haechan was satisfied. “Good.” He pivoted so that he was facing you, handing you the shotgun. “Hold this for me.”

You grabbed the gun cautiously. You were every bit afraid of accidentally setting it off and wounding yourself or someone else in the process. 

Haechan stepped back, taking a deep breath, and ran up and hauled himself over the fence like it was nothing. You acted quickly, but carefully, handing him the gun over the slightly shorter gate. 

Then, it was your turn. Your heart was pumping. Your whole body was on edge. You walked backwards, putting some distance between you and the fence, and sprinted over without a second thought. You grasped the top for leverage and pulled yourself over, landing on your feet. 

And then there were two. 

Mark exhaled a shaky breath and glanced at Xiu again, holding her hands. “You can go now.”

She shook her head. “No, you go.”

Mark looked like he was about to ask if she was sure, but Haechan beat him to a word. “Fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for this. There’s zombies coming. Look behind you.”

There were a handful of zombies slowly but surely making their way over and there was only so much time before they caught up to you. Frantically, Xiu began to fret, eyes widening as she clasped Mark’s forearms. “Go. I don’t wanna slow you guys down.”

Mark glanced between her and the fence, stuck at a crossroads. Ultimately, he grabbed Xiu’s face and kissed her breathless like it was his last chance to let her know how he really felt, and threw himself over the fence. 

“Okay, baby. It’s your turn,” Mark said, gesturing for her to come over.

Xiu hesitated, eyes wide with fear. It was a six foot tall jump that required every bit of vigor to haul yourself over. You watched with dread, an invisible clock ticking above your head as your body shuddered with alarm. You couldn’t stand still. 

Especially not when the zombies were getting closer and closer with every second gone to waste. In a life or death situation, every single breath counted. She was running out of time and you desperately didn’t want to lose another valuable friend that had made an impact on your life for the better. You just couldn’t. You refused. 

“Babe,” Mark called again, on the verge of panic. “Please. You have to jump right now. Just come to me.”

You and Haechan urgently waved her over. You exclaimed, “Xiu, just do it! Don’t think about it. It’s only gonna take a few seconds and then it’ll be over.”

Xiu stepped back, preparing herself for the leap. She took a few restrained steps forward, testing the waters, and backed away again. “Mark, I can’t do it. I’m scared,” she whimpered. 

“Yes, you can,” Mark reassured her gingerly. “You can do it, Xiu. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Xiu begrudgingly nodded, wanting to trust him more than anything. She exhaled a shaky breath and walked back, glancing over her shoulder to gauge how much distance remained between her and the monsters, and resigned herself to the fact that there was no other way out. Finally, she closed her eyes and sprung forward, getting caught at the top and bracing herself on the fence. 

When she glanced back, she lost her grip and fell for all of a couple seconds, cracking her skull on a rock. 

The sound was the most devastating thing you’d ever heard. 

“Xiu!” Mark cried out in anguish, rushing towards the fence without a second thought. 

Haechan had to get a hold of him before he leaped back over, barely able to restrain Mark with how wildly he fought it. Haechan briefly forwent the gun and grappled Mark, spinning him around so that they were face to face. “Hey, man. Look. Look at me,” he said, bracing his shoulders. “She’s gone.”

“No,” Mark shouted in denial, attempting to wrestle free of Haechan’s iron grip.

You helped Haechan hold Mark in place, knowing it would be both foolish and risky for him to go back over when there were monsters nearly clawing at the gate. You could see the agony on your brother’s face and it broke you in half. “Mark, I’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Mark echoed, but this time it was a hollow whisper. He slackened and the second you and Haechan released him, he dropped to the ground. There was no faking the heartbreak in his eyes. In his voice. 

Haechan exhaled deeply, cradling his face in his hands. “Fuck, man.”

Even though you were dealing with your own overwhelming whirlwind of emotions - anger, grief, and fear - you knew someone needed to be the voice of reason between the three of you so that you could survive. “Mark, it’s time to go,” you told him gently. 

Mark looked up at you, empty. Like he didn’t care whether he lived or died. His voice was quiet. “I promised. I promised her she was gonna be okay.”

You shook your head, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of consolation. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

Mark was in too deep. He couldn’t see it any other way. To him, this was preventable and the outcome had largely depended on him. He lowered his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have let her go last. I could’ve helped her. I knew she was scared.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mark. It’s no one’s fault,” you replied gently, wishing there was something you could say to convince him. But you didn’t have time for that right now. “But we really need to get going so that no one else gets hurt.”

Mark nodded, begrudgingly coming to a stand. He was only partly in the journey now; halfway to surrender. “The gym’s blown. What’s the next best place?”

You thought about it. “The auditorium?”

“There’s too many doors,” Haechan chimed, having learned his lesson from the gym fiasco. 

You shrugged. “Yeah, but we can hide behind the stage if we need to.”

Haechan sighed. “I guess.”

You frowned. There was a stormy, dark cloud of defeat hanging over the group now and it disappointed you, even if it was justified. You said nothing, dragging your feet with them as you tried to neglect the agony tearing you apart. Brutal was an understatement. 

The hallways were damn near packed with monsters, as if they were making sure there was no stone left unturned. No place they hadn’t searched. That thought alone was scary as all hell. With every new corner, the three of you were forced to check each angle before you proceeded down the hall.

It was hard to keep your head in the game when you couldn’t help but vividly remember the lives that had been stolen plain in your face without consequence. One after another, back to back. You were channeling the despair into strength and spunk, but that didn’t make it any less painful. 

Hopelessness was nothing new to someone like you, but this was a different breed of misery; you could feel the ache in every breath you took and all the while, you had to ignore how limited they felt, because you didn’t want to lose faith altogether. You had to keep telling yourself that this wasn’t the end even if you could hardly believe it. 

You felt sick as you thought of Johnny and Victoria. They should have been happy together, and now you had to pray that their souls were united and at peace. You thought of Taeyong, who had been nothing but nurturing and tender to everyone who loved, but you couldn’t do anything to save him. Xiu who was sweet and deserved a chance with Mark as much as he deserved one with her. 

And Jaehyun whose smile you were picturing in your mind and shattering apart at the thought of never seeing again. You wished you could have done more for them. You could still hear their screams and the agonized sound was something you would always remember. 

Mark put his hand up, making you and Haechan halt in your tracks behind him in the middle of a broad wall. You figured he’d heard something. He crept closer to investigate, slowly peeking his head around the corner to get an idea what was going on. 

In the next second, Mark was blindsided and yanked the other way. He cried out as he disappeared behind the corner. 

“Mark,” you called out, eyes widening. You managed to grapple him in the nick of time and forcibly pull him back into you, sighing in relief when you realized he was unharmed. You had been one second away from losing him indefinitely. 

Haechan turned the corner with his gun and began shooting anything that moved without mercy. You hated the sound of gunshots and every single one startled you more than the last, but you understood that they were a necessary evil which were aiding in your survival. 

The monsters started dropping like flies and you stilled like you’d been struck by lightning when you recognized the one that had grabbed Mark. It was Jaehyun. A little more bloody, a little more pale, but you knew Jaehyun when you saw him. He hardly looked the same without life. 

You saw the bullet piercing his forehead and knew that this was the last you’d ever seen of him unless it was in your dreams. 

Mark went slack beside you. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was thinking the exact same thing you were. 

Haechan, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed. He was too busy firing away at the flock of monsters in front of you. With how shocked you were, you failed to realize there was another one stealthily creeping behind you until Mark jolted, hollering out in pain. 

Your protective instincts kicked in. You weren’t thinking about your own health or safety. You just knew you wanted to protect your little brother with your life and you fought and struggled with the monster, prying him away. 

But it was too late. Mark had been bitten. The infection was stronger than your desire to save him, no matter how badly you wanted it. You barely dodged Mark when he lunged at you and tried to get a hold of your arm, your eyes widening in horror at your worst fear coming to life. 

“No. God, please,” you whimpered, the defeat finally starting to catch up to you. You couldn’t win this battle. Not when your undoing had been guaranteed from the start. 

Haechan gaped, but he didn’t let you falter. You had to stay in motion. Which meant being confined to an eternity of running, and you were beginning to realize it would just be easier to give up. Wordlessly, he handed you the gun, the message obvious. You know what you have to do. 

You shook your head. The gun burned your hands. Though you knew that head shots were the only sure-fire way of neutralizing anyone who had been infected, you also figured it would kill them permanently. And you couldn’t do that. 

“I’m not killing him,” you told Haechan, backing away. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

Haechan exhaled through his nose. “We have to do something quickly or we’ll be cornered.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. It felt like the world was spinning. You were nauseous and sick to your stomach, the most cruel shudder wrecking through your body as you fought the urge to sob. 

Finally, knowing you had no other option, you aimed the gun. Mark slumped to the ground, clutching the wound in his leg. Like hell you were going to kill him. “I hope we can fix you,” you whispered poignantly, handing Haechan back the weapon and facing the other way. 

You refused to look at Mark anymore. You had failed to protect your own brother. He was your responsibility, your family. The person you were supposed to be there for through thick and thin. And you let him down in the worst way possible. 

Haechan gave chase, calling out your name. “Wait!”

Not turning around, you kept walking. You were at your breaking point. “How could you ask me to do that?”

Haechan replied, “He’s dead! There’s nothing we can do for him now whether you shoot him in the head or not. He would have wanted you to protect yourself.” 

You whipped around and exclaimed, “You don’t know that! There has to be something we can do.”

Haechan was quick to ask, “Like what, baby? You really think they’ve got some anti-zombie virus remedy cooked up and ready to hand out? That’s just not realistic.”

“What if it was me?”

Haechan rooted in place, his feet fixed to the ground as his eyes flickered with surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you snapped. “What if I had gotten bitten? Would you have shot me?”

Haechan swallowed. “You can’t ask me something like that.”

That only served to make you angrier. It was the same damn situation, as far as you were concerned. Losing someone you cared deeply about and being forced into making a tough choice. “Why not?”

“Because it’s different,” Haechan huffed. 

“How?”

Raising his voice ever so slightly, Haechan replied, “I don’t know. It just is!”

You didn’t realize that your volume had attracted more attention until it was too late. You could feel the dread flooded into your bloodstream before you even knew why. When you glanced up, you saw monsters approaching you both at every turn, at every angle. 

At that moment, you accepted defeat. You knew you had no chance at victory. Even if you fought until the very end, rebelled against everything inside you that wanted to surrender in hope of survival, you knew it would be pointless. You would run out of bullets at some point exactly like how you’d run out of will. And you were already running on empty. 

If you somehow survived this, you would wish that you hadn’t. How could you live after seeing what you had seen, constantly reminded of what you’d lost?

Haechan was on the same page. You couldn’t escape this, no matter how hard you tried. He laced his fingers through yours and confessed again, “I love you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears were dripping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. “I love you too,” you whispered. 

Haechan nodded, releasing your hand to throw his arms around your waist from behind. 

His teeth sank into your neck. 

[timefadesaway]

like imagine you see a band play at a village fête and you introduce yourself to them bc you think they're cool and you want to be in a band and you impress their de facto leader with being great at guitar so he lets you in the band and you eventually start writing together and become good friends because you bond over the death of each of your mothers and jerk off together and he has this other friend who he's really close with and you just fucking hate him he just gets on your nerves until he dies tragically and your friend receives £100 for his birthday so he takes you to paris and you spend the week taking pictures of each other in matching silly hats and sleeping in the same bed and you keep writing together you keep writing together and you both decide to credit all the songs either of you write to both of you as a shared name and your career begins to take off and you keep writing together and he writes you a valentines day card but takes it back to write a love song on it and you keep writing together and boy your career has really taken off and you're in movies and you're everywhere and you're put on display for the entire world at each others sides and you keep writing together and your cat has kittens and you name them pyramus and thisbe and you give him pyramus the part you played when you performed the rude mechanicals together and you keep writing together and he tries acid and likes it and you try it too and you try it for the first time with him because you don't want him to be alone on a trip and you look into his eyes and you dissolve into him and he gets more into drugs and you like drugs but not as much not like him and you meet a girl shes a photographer and you like her like really like her and you click so much it's noticeable and when your friend sees this he does acid and says he's god and calls up this artist and cheats on his wife with her and he clicks with her too just like that and you go away together with the rest of the band and everything changes and it sucks so you leave and you're writing together less now you write on your own and so does he and boy this girl is really something so you marry her you marry your photographer quietly and out of the public eye and a week later he marries his artist and you still write together a little but it's mostly separate now and you want different things and he plays you a tape of him and his wife having sex and you fall out and you try hard to keep the band together but it's ending and eventually he says quietly that he's leaving the band so you put out in the press that you're leaving first and you sue him and he sues you and moves across an ocean and you write you write alone this time and you write about him and it's mean and he writes about you and it's meaner and you write about other things too but you still write about him and years pass years pass and you run into him and jam and it's like old times it's like nothing happened it's magic and you invite him to write with you and come with you to new orleans and he agrees and he cancels and you dont see him for a long time until you visit his home and spend some time together and as you leave he says think of me every now and then old friend and you go and it's the last time you see him you call him every so often and you call him and talk about making bread and then he's dead and you never got to fix any of it even though you know eventually you would have but you can't now and you keep writing and his demo tapes are sent to you and you keep hold of them and you keep writing and you keep the tapes and eventually you put them to use and you record them and you wait decades to finish your last song with him but you do it and it's called now and then like the last thing he ever said to you in person. and you play bass

[gremlingottoosilly]

Maid-up problems (Konig x maid!Reader)

Konig goes to a maid cafe. Billions must perish. Tags and CW: yandere Konig, obsessive and creepy behaviour, Konig is a bit of a perv, colonel loser Konig, maids and maid cafes, general fluff, slight age difference, slight size difference, mostly from Konig's pov. AO3

— Welcome home, master. What your maid I get for you today, hm? König just died and went to heaven. Heaven consists of pretty girls running around in fluffy skirts, little aprons and putting on adorable headbands with white ruffles. Heaven filled with the smell of reheated pastries and pre-made snacks, with neutral sweet perfume and the stench of sweat from the customers. Heaven is filled with angels who run around in maid costumes and call him master – and all of this without going through the hassle of finding a cosplay-friendly prostitute in Vienna.

He honestly rolled his eyes the first time he saw the post about a new maid cafe opening in town. Horangi was the one to show him - the bastard didn’t even live in Austria and yet had followed all the news, maybe to only make fun of his colonel. He knows that the tiger has his dirty secrets too – ido girls, idol boys, some new band every week that he’d spend his paycheck to get all possible merch. Changing his gambling addiction to a k-pop one – all while his glorious commander is going crazy from the new maid hentai he just watched. Honestly embarrassing at his age…but he doesn’t care. He has money for the exclusive translations and elite figures – and he has some time on leave to visit the damn maid cafe. Then König meets you. He died, went to heaven and was greeted with an angel…no, a goddess. In a frilly apron, short skirt and adorable, albeit a bit embarrassed smile. You had your persona on – dorky and clumsy, useless little maid that customers liked to scold when you’d almost drop their drinks and then fake cry while apologizing. Some sadistic bastards like to play pretend by calling your manager while you’d beg for them not to. Some perverts with a hero complex would play into your pleads. König stares in awe as you drop the menu accidentally, not forgetting to show off your cleavage as you pick it up. Brushing it off with your finger, looking so tiny and shy…god, he fucking adores you already. — S…so sorry, master. Please, forgive me for dropping the- — It’s okay. Don’t worry, ja? 

He reaches for your hand, but you shoo it away. No touching – the cafe policy, as dumb as it sounds. He knows it’s for your own good, to protect you from perverts and creeps – but you shouldn’t be so scared about touching him. He would have to train you to do this after. nothing that a few touches of a good military discipline wouldn’t fix though – and he is very good at breaking down dumb recruits and annoyingly stubborn people. Oh. Right. He still kinda has to order. His gaze immediately flicks to the most expensive thing on the menu – an exclusive dessert, probably too sweet for his tastes. He will have to make do though – there isn’t much on the menu, certainly is zero alcohol so drunk guests wouldn’t harass the maid girls, and a tiny portion of an omelet with some ketchup hearts squeezed all over it certainly isn’t to his tastes either. No, König had his eyes – covered by glasses, of course, he didn’t want to show off his scars and the expression of a serial killer forced to work in mercenary forces to cute girls in ruffled aprons – on a different prize. You. 

And the exclusive photos and a hug from any waitress of the fine establishment that would come with this overpriced order. 

König has never seen the manager of this cafe, but he is ready to give them all money he has – just for implementing this feature into the menu. Just for selling off their girls to any customer who is willing to pay almost 50 Euros for a piece of a pretty regular cake and some coffee. 

You stare at his order for a few seconds, your mouth going agape. He is not hurt – it was weird, after all, for a guy like him to order something as silly as this. You’re probably weirded out, thinking that he accidentally put his finger on the order – but you know better than to ask again and risk him changing his mind. Your cafe gives off bonuses if guests want to take a picture with you so, naturally, you’re all smiles and nods, tilting your head to the side as you say, ever-so-sweetly, that you’d be back with his order. Now…is König ashamed of liking the pretty little maid so much? Not really, to be completely honest, he kinda adores having you around, and he’d pay even more for the opportunity to touch you. Too bad your cafe isn’t a front for some other body business – he’d be happy to raid it on the part of special forces and then save you from such a gruesome fate by making you his wife. 

König wonders if your cafe has themed days. Maybe catgirls, cosplay, maybe housewives. 

König wonders if he can get your number. Then his gaze falters to the reflection of his face in the screen of his phone – and, no, not going to happen. Not when he is fresh out of deployment, barely showered, and thrown a clean hoodie on which does very little to cover the smell of blood clinging to his body. It’s his cross to bear – his victims scratching at his ankles as the colonel sips on complimentary water from a pink glass and looks at all the other losers who coming to this fine establishment. 

You’re lucky it’s a slow day – if König saw you being so sweet and touchy with some other lousy customer, he might have shot the whole place up. Master does not tolerate his silly servant being so nice to others, after all. 

— Your coffee, master. 

He whips out a stack of bills already, way more than what he was supposed to pay even with the exclusive offer he ordered. Your mouth opens to stop him, to remind him of the actual price of everything – then he breaks whatever good intentions you had when he starts to speak, his voice muffled a bit because of his black surgical mask. 

— Do you have a boyfriend? 

Oh. 

Now, under normal circumstances, you’d yell for the manager to come and pick you up. You’d scream bloody murder and alert other girls and clients that you’re having a bad customer who is going into harassment mode very quickly – asking such personal questions at this place is something that shouldn’t be happening, no sir. Totally not happening. 

But…the work has been a bit slow lately. You didn’t get as many bonuses as you wanted to, and the rent is coming up, and the phone bill is getting more expensive…sometimes you just got unlucky and his a streak of customers not liking your particular archetype – so if this weird dude who is totally killing people in his spare time wants a bit more than usual service and is definitely ready to pay for it. 

You might have had a thing for guys in masks. Big, muscular guys in masks who looks like they can choke you with their thighs and then fucking destroy you. With money who can get you a bit closer to your savings goal. So, you’re not calling your manager, your friends, or the police. So, you play into the fantasy for a little bit, remembering all the acts your supervisors drilled into your head. — Of course I don’t, master. I’m here for you, remember? You smile and nod, hoping it will be enough. Hoping a guy like him could be satisfied with something as silly as this, something as tiny. You touch his hand a bit later, making sure to hold him for a while longer. A simple trick to enhance the amount of tip you can get – even tho you feel like playing with fire when you touch this guy so sweetly. 

And, oh, König is…done for. Smitten. Shot right in the heart through his cock, somehow. This man survived battle after battle, destroyed more small countries than there is letters in his real name, but he was defeated by a pretty girl in a maid outfit in a cafe made for incels and otaku wannabees. If any of his lower officers saw him right now, with ears and cheeks burning angry red, with his heavy breathing and obvious, but concealed by table hard-on, he would be done for. 

But, oh god, aren’t you just beautiful? 

Obviously embarrassed and maybe a bit shy – he thinks it’s probably just your persona, a way to milk tips from the customers who like to play dominant, but König doesn’t even need to play. He knows he’d have to take you by the end of your shift, whatever this time might be. He is not the best person for the romance job, but he’ll be damned if he let a pretty thing like you just run away like a silly girl you are. 

— Can I have your phone number? You want to say no, he can’t have your phone number. The guy smells of gunpowder and blood, looks like he is going to shoot the entire venue down if you disagree with him, and you do not want to die like a hero for a job that pays barely above minimum wage for the amount of public humiliation you have to endure to ensure good tips. The guy smells like danger and a bad time and a long conversation with your manager about the types of guests that they allow into this fine establishment. 

You want to say no and yell but, then again, there are multiple factors that are screaming against such rush decisions. A huge chunk of money he still has in his valet is, embarrassingly enough, one of the biggest decision-making points. — We’re not really allowed to give our phone numbers, master… His hand goes to his pocket. 

You’re not sure if he is touching his cock, his gun, or another stack of bills right now – but all of the options are kinda making you want to die before you can check your answers. It’s going to be bad either way, so you tilt your head to the side, trying to look as innocent as possible. 

— But I can make an exception! 

He actually startles, looking at you like you just agreed to marry him. You probably would, with enough bullet threats – but you still bite your tongue, not wanting to give the crazy guy an idea. You actually don’t know if he is crazy or not – but taking your chances isn’t something you want to do on a nice Monday dead work day. 

You can see relief in his eyes. A little wrinkles of smile, too – his mouth is covered by a mask, but you’re almost sure he is grinning like an idiot under this thing. Oh no…you just insulted a customer in your mind. It’s really bad for business. 

You write your number down and pass it right to his hand without anyone noticing…you hoped so, at least – you don’t want other customers to order the same special treatment and you know that the manager would have your head for overstepping the rules so much. No one would care that you’re saving this fucked up place from a massacre – they would only care about arbitrary rule-breaking. You lick your lips and smile as his hand lingers on you a bit too long. 

His hands are big and warm, too – you’re getting lost in the touch, as he carefully caresses the back of your palm with his thumb. He is…surprisingly tender. As much as a killing machine can be tender, of course – but you do appreciate a softer, milder touch. You do appreciate his hands on your body, caressing it softly and maybe even leaning you for a kiss and a quick…

Oh god, what are you thinking. You need to stop, immediately. 

He pulls from his table suddenly and you almost feel like you fucked up, somehow. Maybe he did wanted something a big more than what you were willing to give, maybe this guy wanted you in a way that was not friendly for the cafe – but he swoops you by your waist before you could say anything before your hands could go upright and smack him – and you stop right before hearing him saying the dreadful words. The words you wished he wouldn’t have enough money to say. 

God, this is hopeless. 

— Can I get my special offer now? 

König makes it sound like the special offer would include you on your knees, choking on his cock. König makes it sound like it would include you on your back, taking pounding from him while he tugs on your dumb apron and tells you to cry for your master. König makes it sound like the short skirt of your outfit was not covering you enough, he makes it sound perverted, horrible, utterly despicable, he makes it sound like…

God, he doesn’t have enough self-control for you. 

You just…look so scared. Nervous. You play with the fabric of your costume in your hands as the other maid – some faceless pretty thing for him, with his eyes glued to your side anyway – was making pictures. Polaroid, is overpriced for a couple of photos he will get…but he doesn’t care if he has to blow off an entire contract bonus if that means getting some bonus from you. 

He gets to hold your waist and it’s so easily to imagine digging his fingers to your sides as he fucks you with as much passion as he could gather. It’s easy to imagine his cock pumping into you, your tummy bulging from the sheer size difference between you and him – poor thing, you’d probably be terrified as he would force himself onto you. Maybe you’d clutch your little apron adorably and beg for him to stop. Maybe you’d ask him to be rougher and more passionate – to make you his in all sorts of ways. He just…he can’t imagine not taking you home after this. 

He hugged you, it’s basically a marriage proposal already. 

You try your best to ignore the way his hand slips down, almost to the point of groping your ass. You ignore it, the girl who is taking the pictures ignores it too. No one wants a scandal, no one wants to point this out – everyone knows how tips are made here, and you sure as hell won’t be putting yourself in danger just because you feel his giant hand fondling you through the fabric of your silly dress. You forgot the protective shorts too - so there is only a matter of underwear and skirt between his hand and your ass. 

Somehow, the sensation isn’t as terrible as you want it to be. Somehow, you feel like tips aren’t the only thing that keeps you from screaming at him. 

König died and went to heaven – this much is obvious. He is taking a picture with a pretty girl, he touches a pretty girl in maid's suit and she doesn’t even say anything to him. He just went out from a successful contract that would keep his pockets full for a few months and went straight for his savings, and he killed more people than the last week – god, life is fucking beautiful. He fondles your ass with his hand, other is awkwardly limp to his side, and he already knows that he will be a regular here. 

He hates getting his pictures taken – it’s normal for people in his line of work, being a mercenary and a socially active person isn’t something wise if you don’t want an enemy finding out where you live, but he doesn’t really care anymore – he will keep the pictures with you, hold it in his wallet and put a spare one in his vest pocket. You can be his little guardian angel, the pretty girl who is waiting for him to return. 

And he does have your number with him. 

— Are you happy with the pictures, master? 

You tilt your head and König forces down the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you. They way you say this, the way you call him master – he simply can’t resist, not when you’re too fucking adorable to miss out on. He knows it’s inappropriate, he knows you’re just working here, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving a hefty tip and making sure you know exactly what made him leave so much. 

God, he can’t wait to make you his. 

König wonders if you’d agree to wear a skimpier outfit once you’re at the safety of his house.