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#obviously if we could spare him after the fight he would NOT let that slide and he'd probably try to kill us again but yknow. it's fine
valentjin · 5 months
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i wish we could do this instead of killing him 😇
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+bonus shot that looks nice but didn't fit so well when put in sequence with the others
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astroluvr · 2 years
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can you do one where the reader and jacks daughter unexpectedly gets sick while he’s on tour, and him and everybody just babies and takes care of her? thank you <33
You and Jack hadn't planned on your daughter, Charlotte, to come down with anything in the first few weeks of tour. For the past few nights, you all had been sleeping on the tour bus to keep riding through the night and arrive at venues with time to spare, but Charlotte wasn't feeling it.
"Mama?" she came into the lounge section where you were keeping Jack company and had a frown on her perfectly cherry shade lips.
"What, Char? Are you okay?" you cooed to your baby girl and she shook her head.
"I don't feel good." she whined, clutching her stomach before crawling into your lap.
"Aw, sweetheart. What's the matter?"
"My tummy and my head." Jack set his notepad down and scooted closer to wrap his large hand around her forehead.
"She's burning up."
"I think we should find a hotel, babe." you whispered, rubbing her small back lovingly. "I know you wanted to rest when we get there, but the motion might make it worse."
"I'll tell the driver, so we can get my baby in a nice bed." he leaned over your lap to leave several kisses to her cheek.
The bus driver made the bus detour almost immediately and Jack booked a hotel in a timely manner. By the time you arrived there, Charlotte was fighting sleep and Jack was coddling her.
In the parking lot, Urban came out in a Batman shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. He was obviously tired, but concerned.
"Thought we were driving through the night."
Before you could open your mouth to explain, Charlotte answered. "I feel icky, Uncle Urb."
"You feel icky?" he frowned, walking over to where she was nodding her head against Jack's broad shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. Does that mean you can't help me take pictures of your daddy tomorrow?"
She shrugged instead of giving her usual jovial response and even Urban looked stricken. The two of them were practically best friends, especially now on tour when you had your hands tied and Urban would help you out by letting her run around on stage with him to snap pictures.
"Get my friend some rest. I can't possibly get any good angles without her. I need the ankle shots."
"My signyture." she attempted to say 'signature' and Urban smiled before pinching her cheek.
"That's right, Char. Feel better, okay?" he spoke softly and she nodded.
"Kay, Uncle Urbie." she whispered and you and Jack both smiled.
"Good night!" you called after him as he got back on the tour bus for Jack's closer crew to travel in.
Within in no time, Jack got you up to your hotel room and Charlotte was whining. "My tummy hurts."
"We know, sweetheart." you said softly, sitting on the bed for Jack to place her onto your lap. "Do you think you can drink some water?"
*Mmhmm." she nodded and you unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and held it at Charlotte's lips. By nature, you angled the bottle slightly and Jack chuckled.
"I miss it."
"Miss what?" you asked softly, caressing her hair as she took slow sips.
"Having a baby."
"I guess that's a discussion we should have when tour is over." you said softly and a glint appeared in Jack's eye.
"Mama?" Charlotte rasped, and you hummed. "'m hot."
"Okay." you sighed, looking at Jack. "How about you get into something lighter?"
"I wanna wear Daddy's shirt." she murmured as you helped her out of the pajamas she wore.
"Here you go, baby." Jack said, sliding his shirt over her body and smiling when she put her arms inside.
"It's like a sack!" she said.
Both your and Jack's lips turned into pouts when her excitement didn't reach her voice. Instead it was rasped and lacked enthusiasm when she yawned.
"Yeah, you look so cute." you kissed her nose and she yawned right after. "Ready for bed?"
"Uh-huh, but I don't wanna sleep by myself. Wanna sleep with you and Daddy."
"Of course, love bug!" you said almost too enthusiastically.
Your baby girl had always been as independent as she could be. She never liked to enlist anyone's help and forbid she's offered it. To have Charlotte sick was like actually having a toddler again.
You laid down first and Jack followed suit, using his body to lock Charlotte between you. The both you adjusted in bed so that your heads were leveled with Charlotte's.
She tossed between you two for a few moments before finally settling against your chest and rubbing at her watery eyes while Jack stroked her hair.
"Mama, will I feel better in the morning?" she asked and you pouted before humming out an answer.
"I don't know, love bug. I sure hope so."
"When I'm not sick no more, can I have ice cream?"
"As much as you want." Jack said immediately and you gave him a look that made him purse his lips.
"How about an extra scoop?" you compromised and Charlotte agreed. "Good. Do you wanna cuddle with Mama?"
"Mmhmm." she got closer to you and laid her head against your chest, sighing contently when you and Jack warmed her up underneath the blankets when she shivered.
"My poor baby."
"You'll be sick next. You always get sick after her."
"And you never do." you pointed out, speaking over Charlotte's head. "You act like you have to sterilize me."
"I make you soup, though." he countered and you rolled your eyes before snuggling into Charlotte's hair. "Good night, my girls." Jack whispered, kissing both of your heads before turning off the light and going to bed himself.
Due to Charlotte's drowsiness, you all got up early and finished the drive to the next venue. Charlotte continued to cling onto Jack and complain about feeling "icky" well into the afternoon where things started to get hectic in the cramped hours before the show.
"Mama, I don't want to! I feel bad." Charlotte whined, swiping her sweaty tendrils of hair away from her face.
"I know, baby, but I need to get this to Daddy." you said, referring to the heavy duffel that Jack would need for his set.
"Sleep with Char, please." she whimpered, grabbing at your wrist and you felt inclined to give in, but you knew your priorities trumped it.
Just as you were about to breakdown from being overwhelmed, Urban knocked on the hotel room door and peeked his head inside. He, of course, found you in messy sweats with Charlotte under her favorite Hello Kitty blanket and looking exhausted even though the only thing she could do was sleep.
"You good? Jack called and told me to check on you two." he stepped in and Charlotte turned her head.
"I'm fine, but there's just a lot I need to do and Char isn't feeling well and I just-"
"Chill." Urban chuckled, placing two hands on your shoulders and licking his lips before turning to Charlotte. "I can handle the mini, you do whatever shit you need to."
"Thank you so much. She's been in and out of it, so she shouldn't be too much trouble. She just has a little bug."
"Not a love bug. A yucky bug." Charlotte sounded and you have him a resigned sigh.
"It's cool." he reassured you and you gave him a quick hug before he flopped onto the bottom of the bed.
"Uncle Urban is gonna look after you for just a little while and then Mama will be back and we'll sleep until Daddy gets back, okay?"
"Okay, Mommy." she whispered, and you kissed her cheek before leaving begrudingly.
Once you were out of the door, Urban and Charlotte looked at each other and Urban narrowed his eyes. "Are you faking?"
"Faking?"
"Pretending. Are you playing pretend sick?"
"No." she said, a hint of confusion in her soft voice. "My tummy and head hurt."
"Oh," Urban whispered and frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, bud. How about we put on some cartoons and chill out."
"Okay." she nodded and Urban turned on the hotel TV before flicking it to an episode of SpongeBob. "What's this?"
"The best cartoon ever." Urban answered and Charlotte moved to the end of the bed and laid her head on his stomach and Urban pet her head softly.
Charlotte was eventually lulled to sleep and Urban was, too. When you and Jack returned to the venue, there was hardly enough time to stop by the hotel, so Neelam went to go get them. Upon reaching the hotel room and finding them both knocked out on the bed, she took a picture before waking Urban up.
She was especially careful of Charlotte until she shot up like she'd been electrocuted. Both Neelam and Urban looked at her and got ready to coddle her, but she spoke too soon.
"I feel all better!" she squealed, kicking off her blanket and standing up in Jack's shirt that pooled around her feet. "I can have ice cream now. Will you get me ice cream, Auntie Neelam?"
"I sure can, princess. Then we're going to go to your Daddy's show, okay?" Neelam picked Charlotte up off the bed and she nodded.
In the last few minutes before Jack got on stage, the two of you were waiting for Charlotte to appear. You were massaging Jack's broad shoulders to keep him from getting too tense while also expecting Charlotte to come in clinging to either Urban or Neelam tiredly.
"My poor baby." you huffed, laying your head on Jack's shoulder from behind.
"She's fine, baby. Just a bug."
Before you could speak, the door was being thrown open by an excited Charlotte who had a big bowl of half-melted ice cream in hand with the old camera Urban always let her use around her neck.
"Daddy, I'm here to see you do your music!" she explained the concept of concerts with such fervor that you and Jack couldn't help but smile when she approached.
"I'm happy, Char, but are you feeling better?"
"Uh-huh, lots! Gonna take the best pictures and eat lots and lots of ice cream."
You and Jack laughed and you kissed her forehead before she grinned. "I'm glad you feel better, my love bug, but that's a lot of ice cream. Mama said only one extra, remember?"
"Auntie Neelam said it was feel better ice cream." she said and turned to Neelam who was already stammering.
"I-I tried to keep it simple, but when I remembered how bad she was feeling, I couldn't resist. Plus, she wouldn't let me tell the cashier to only do three scoops."
You smiled and Jack beamed almost proudly. "Sounds like a baby Harlow."
"I'm not a baby." Charlotte corrected him and Jack raised his eyebrows.
"Sounds like a Harlow lady. Is that better?" he asked and she nodded before taking a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and grinning.
"Yep."
As chuckles resounded around you, you and Jack shared a bittersweet look with one another. He kissed the top of your head before mumbling into your hair.
"She's still our baby."
"I know."
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 || dark!jan (the edukators/die fetten Jahre sind vorbei) x reader
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 | in scoping out his next target, jan hadn't realised that you wouldn't be joining your family on their next vacation; in choosing to stay home, you hadn't realised what you were in for.
𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 | 4.3k
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 | smut (noncon, with fingering and penetrative sex), innocence kink, virginity loss/first time, brief exhibitionism, degradation, daddy kink, spitting (in mouth and on pussy), breaking and entering/home invasion, touch of misogyny kink, slight objectification kink (petnames like babydoll/dolly being 99% of this), slight bleeding (from sex specifically), death mention (no threats, just the fear of threats if that makes sense?)
𝗔/𝗡 | you don't need to have seen the movie to understand this fic, as long as you know that jan and his friends break into rich people's houses as part of their anti-capitalist rebellion. note that the vast majority of dialogue is written in english for simplicity, but that these conversations would actually take place fully in german.
this is a DARK fic, if you hit 'keep reading' I don't wanna hear you upset about content listed clearly in the warnings section
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It’s probably normal to hear a bump in the night, to wake up and be a little freaked out, but to ultimately just stay in bed and not do anything about it. At first you were sure you were sure it was nothing, though your gut told you otherwise; then, as you heard more and more you spent quite some time convincing yourself that it was just pipes creaking or the foundation settling. But the thing about pipes and foundations is they don’t speak German.
“Hier entlang, hier entlang,” someone whispered, and footsteps shifted all along the lower floor.
Maybe you were still asleep, and this was just a strange dream, a terrifying dream. You pulled the blanket up over your head and prayed to wake up, but the denial turned to terror when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
You jumped out of bed, but it was too late to go out your bedroom door— you could hear them walking and whispering outside. Your bathroom had a small window, but even if you managed to fit through it you’d be on the second story with no way to ropel down. Maybe in your mind you could be some daring adventurer with the perfect plan to escape, or with the skills to defend yourself with something random you could grab, but you knew better than to really think you could do anything but hide.
As the footsteps and voices got louder, your eyes frantically searched the room and finally landed on the large upright dresser— maybe it was a little obvious, but it had a handy little feature that made it lock from the inside. It had come in handy for a decade of hide-and-seek, and now it would hopefully serve you one last time.
With not a second to spare, you ran over and grabbed the golden handles, swinging the doors open but being careful to shut them quietly after you’d stepped inside and made room for yourself among the coats and dresses. You searched for the lock in the pitch darkness, only able to find it because it was right above the keyhole that glowed from the dim light outside. Just as you turned the knob and heard the metal lock slide inside the wooden door, you heard your bedroom door open.
Someone walked around your room briefly, you even heard them pick something up and set it down— probably your bedside lamp, based on where it was coming from, but you obviously couldn’t be sure and frankly didn’t care that much. Footsteps approached the dresser and you saw the keyhole light up as a flashlight passed over it.
“Let’s take all the clothes and put them in the fireplace,” a voice in the room announced. “We won’t actually light the fireplace, but it sends a message.”
You covered your mouth with your hand to try to keep quiet when the doors shook briefly from an attempt to open them.
“Fuck, it’s locked.”
“Here, you go on to the next room, I’ll pick it,” a second voice decided, and you heard more footsteps as someone else approached the armoire. “Look how fancy the dresser is, they’ve probably got furs in here too— god knows people living in a house like this can’t miss an opportunity to destroy the environment.”
You heard something jiggle inside the keyhole, a clicking noise that went on for just a few moments before you heard the metal slide inside the wood again and the doors slowly opened.
A man, dressed in black and holding a flashlight in his gloved hands, stared at you from behind a mask that left only his brown eyes visible. You both stood still, staring at each other, until he did exactly the last thing you expected: he lifted the mask up to his forehead and showed you his face.
He was a lot younger than you would’ve expected, though he had the scruffy beard of a guy trying to look older; his teeth were slightly crooked when he smiled at you, and when he raised a brow while he gave you a quick look-over, you noticed the way they almost connected in the middle.
Under his gaze, you suddenly felt very aware of how little your lacy, baby pink nightgown protected you from the chilling night air.
"Well, what's this?" he asked coyly as he watched you shiver. "Guess these capitalist pigs left one of their little piglets behind." He put on a cooing sort of voice as he addressed you directly: "Did mummy and daddy leave you all alone while they went on holiday?"
He stepped closer even as you tried to shrink away, examining you carefully.
“Get out of there, silly, what are you hiding for? I’m not gonna hurt you,” he assured, not that you found it especially comforting. When you didn’t step out of your own accord, he grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you forward; he slammed the dresser doors behind you, and you whimpered in fear as he pinned you down against them by each arm. "Shh, hey, don't worry— I'm here to take care of you, you can call me daddy instead until your heartless banker father gets back. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong."
"I—"
"Ah ah," he tutted with a mix of bemusement and disappointment, "I already told you how to address me."
You shuddered but finally responded, "Daddy, I'm scared."
He gave you a demeaning little pout, but you continued.
"Some men broke in and I'm alone and… and I don't know if they want to hurt me."
"No, baby, they don't want to hurt you," he promised with a gentle smile, but it turned horrifically sinister as he leaned in to add with a whisper: "but we will if we have to."
You swallowed thickly, your gut twisting when you felt him breathe out against your neck.
"So you're gonna be a good girl, right?"
You nodded quickly, turning away when he leaned in closer, looking down at you with darkened eyes and running the fingers of his black gloves over the neckline of your pyjamas.
“You were just waiting for me, huh? All tucked in in your cute little nightgown, dressed up like a doll,” he grinned. “I bet you want daddy to play with you, hm?”
He laughed cruelly when you shook your head, fighting harder to get away again as he squeezed your arms tight enough to leave marks where his fingers had been.
“Wanna play, little dolly?” he continued, pressing his body into yours and roughly shoving his leg between your thighs. “I know you do… c'mon and give me a kiss," he requested.
“N-no,” you stammered, but he grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand and forced you to look ahead, slamming his lips onto yours and ignoring your muffled protests. When he pinched your side you gasped instinctively, and he shoved his tongue inside your mouth roughly— but that only lasted for a moment, before you found renewed strength and managed to shove him back. It wasn’t far enough to free yourself, but enough to get a break from the oppressive kiss.
“Aw, don’t be mean,” he pouted, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “You said you’d be good for me, remember?”
“Just stop, please,” you whined, gasping before you could stop yourself when he rubbed his thigh up against you— hitting right on your clit which throbbed in spite of everything. Somehow the fear made you more sensitive, or at least something had because you’d never felt quite like this before.
“See? You’re all worked up,” he explained, “I’m gonna help you.”
This time when he leaned in he started to kiss and suck at your neck instead, starting right beneath your ear and moving down slowly until his tongue laved over the crook where your shoulder began. As much as you hated it, it made arousal pulse between your legs where his thigh continued to push hard on you.
When he moved even closer, you could feel his erection against your hip; you didn’t even realise that you’d let out a gasp until you felt him smile against your neck. “Oh, babydoll… you want daddy’s cock inside you, I can tell.”
“N-no, I don’t— just stop,” you begged.
“If only it were so easy, to just ask someone to stop,” he mused. “You know how many times we asked people like your father to stop before they fucked us? You know how far that gets us? You don’t just get to ask nicely, you have to fight for it…”
He chuckled as you writhed in his embrace.
“But you’re too weak to fight, poor thing.”
"Please, I'm not a part of whatever you’re talking about,” you tried to explain, “I don't know much about what Papa does at work—"
"That's your problem, baby, you're blissfully ignorant! Not all of us have that luxury. But the good news is, I'm here to educate you." He pushed up even closer to you, speaking lowly right into your ear with rage starting to bubble up in his voice. "Your father is a piece of scum who feeds on the working class and then robs them blind. You live like this, unquestioningly, and the rest of Germany suffers. Stuck-up bitch like you wouldn't even notice me if you saw me on the street, would you? Wouldn't even give me the time of day, but now you're at my mercy. That’s what you people need to learn: that you’re not gonna be on top forever.”
Suddenly you felt his hand cup your sex through your nightgown, and you choked on your gasp. “No—!” you started to shout, but his right hand covered your mouth as the left hastily pulled your pyjamas up and reached under them.
“Stop fucking squirming,” he grunted as he reached between your kicking legs and slid quickly up your thigh. “Mm, bet you’re hiding a pretty little cunt under this nightgown— hold still, baby, you’re gonna like this.”
Finally maneuvring his way into your panties, he abruptly shoved two gloved fingers inside of you, watching closely as you scrunched your face up tight in discomfort. He thrusted and twisted them around for a bit, carelessly stretching you open as you tried desperately to squirm away; it stung a bit, and the leather of the gloves was cool and awkwardly firm against your walls. For some reason, when he dropped his free hand from your face, you didn’t try to scream again— maybe because you knew no one who cared could hear you— and you just panted heavily instead.
As quickly as he’d pushed them in he pulled them out, bringing the glove up to his mouth to take it off with his teeth with a little growl before rubbing his bare hand over your pussy again. You whimpered when he slid his fingers inside you again, this time feeling the texture of his skin as he curled the pads of his fingers right against your spot. “Yeah?” he mumbled his taunt around the leather between his teeth before spitting the glove out onto the floor. “Fuck, so warm… you’re so wet already, dolly, has nobody been giving this pussy any attention?”
He stopped moving his fingers inside you to pull out and give your clit a few slaps, licking his lips when you cried out from the sharp sensation.
“Huh?” he reminded you to answer when you never gave a response.
“N-no,” you shook your head, finally, and he smiled like he was proud of himself.
“Yeah? You’re not a virgin, are you?”
You only looked down at the floor, blinking a few times as you focused on the teal carpet, and heard him laugh darkly.
“Oh, dolly, I might break you,” he warned roughly as he pushed your gown up to your waist, ignoring your sobbed pleas for him to stop. “We don’t usually take anything from the people we visit, but if I take your virginity maybe your people will finally get the message.”
“Please— you don’t have to do that,” you stammered, rushing through whatever you could think of to make him change his mind, “I won’t tell anyone you were here. You can have whatever you want, if I call them they can send you money—”
“You aren’t even fucking listening to me, we don’t want your expensive bullshit and we don’t want your dirty fucking money!” he corrected sternly, clutching your sleeves tighter and shaking you slightly with the intensity of his movements. “We just want you to be afraid, because the revolution is coming.”
But you were afraid of something much more imminent than a revolution.
“Get on the fucking bed,” he demanded, though you couldn’t do much else considering he was already roughly tossing you onto it, climbing on top of you and pinning you down when you started to crawl back instinctively. With his legs resting on yours and keeping you (somewhat) still, he only needed one hand to grab your shoulders while the other rushed to open his jeans.
Your eyes got a little wide when you saw his cock— before that, it was almost like some part of you didn’t really think he’d go through with his, but now you could see clearly that he was hard and ready… and big enough to make you question how that thing was even supposed to fit inside you.
He tore through your panties like they were paper; he lifted and spread your legs as he sat between them and, much to your humiliation, just stared down at your pussy for a moment. You’d never felt so exposed and it made you feel worse than ever. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he announced smugly, “can’t wait to see it all stretched out and covered in my come— I’m gonna ruin you, babydoll.”
You weakly struggled as he held your hips down with one hand and haphazardly stroked his cock a few times with the other, rubbing himself over your opening before pulling his hips back to spit right onto your clit. After spreading the improvised lubrication around with his head for a moment, he pushed down on it with his thumb to line up with your hole and, without any further warning, slid inside in one motion.
You bit down on your lip hard, and even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the sting; it felt like he was ripping you open, not to mention going so deep that you could feel him in your stomach.
He groaned loudly, head falling back for a moment as he started to thrust into you. “Fuck, I can tell you’re a virgin— it must be hurting you, huh?”
But the question was a bit redundant, since tears had already begun to stream down your temples and your fingers were clutching tightly onto the sheets beneath you; if they were any less expensive, they probably would’ve ripped.
“Maybe a little pain will be good for you,” he decided with a smirk, “I think a spoiled brat like you has been spared the rod a few too many times.”
It was definitely more than a ‘little’ pain, and it only seemed to sting more each time he pulled back and pushed in again— he wasn’t going very fast, yet, so that was one thing you could almost be thankful for. That said, he wasn’t very gentle either.
He hastily reached up under your nightgown to grope your breasts, quickly moving from one to the other as he squeezed them just a bit too hard. “You like how daddy plays with your tits, don’t you?” he grunted. “Say, ‘yes daddy.’”
“Y-yes, daddy,” you mumbled awkwardly; maybe being embarrassed to say that was superfluous considering everything else happening right now, but your face got warmer regardless.
A whimper almost caught in your throat when he pinched your hardened nipples, but it broke through when he seemingly-randomly gave a spank to your inner thigh.
He looked down at where your bodies were joined, where he was stretching you out with steady pumps of his cock that filled you to the brim, before reaching up to quickly pull his black sweater off over his head— a t-shirt underneath came off with it as his chest was exposed. He wasn’t unreasonably pale but he clearly wasn’t the type to get a ton of sun, and he had a thin scattering of dirty-blonde hair over some of it. It was sort of embarrassing, now, seeing how thin he was and yet he was still so much stronger than you.
"You're getting so wet, babydoll, look— you're making a mess on these expensive sheets," he grinned. And he wasn't lying; the sting of the stretch had slowly faded, replaced with a friction you actually couldn't help but enjoy. Each time he moved, he seemed to slide right over a spot that made you tighten up your legs so they wouldn't shake.
But, apparently, there was still plenty left that he could do to hurt you.
You cried out, so louder it echoed across the room, when he suddenly thrust into you hard and deep, hitting the very end of you as your body involuntarily jolted— he clapped his hand down over your mouth instantly, muffling your cries to near-silence as he set a punishingly fast pace out of nowhere. You couldn’t turn your head when you heard your bedroom door open, but you could glance to the side and see another burglar appear in the doorway, staring forward at the scene in front of him.
A new sense of shame burned inside you for being seen in such a way; oddly, it came with guilt, too, as if you were doing something wrong yourself, when really it was just something wrong being done to you. The man on top of you didn’t seem to feel much of either, though: he didn’t even slow down.
"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" the other man asked his partner, face still hidden but his voice a mixture of bewildered and disgusted. "This isn't how we roll."
"Fuck off, I'm almost done," your attacker scoffed. You tried to use the distraction to fight him again— you swung your arms to try to scratch his face or push him away, but without even hesitating he simply stopped covering your mouth to pin your wrists at either side of your head.
"Is this really what you think the revolution is about?" the man in the door sneered. "Or does that even matter to you when you think you might get some ass? Jesus, I always knew you were a creep but this is…" he trailed off.
"Maybe you should take a turn with her, might fix your attitude," the man on top of you suggested. "She's real tight— trust me, you'll feel better."
"I promise that raping that girl isn't gonna make me feel better, Jan," he frowned.
"Fine, then just go so I can finish and I'll meet you guys in the yard," Jan— apparently that was his name— instructed.
"Don't go," you begged the man in the door, seeing the concern on his face— you could tell he wanted to stop Jan, maybe if you asked him to, he would.
"Shut up, bitch," Jan growled, correcting you with a slap to the face.
The man in the doorway just shook his head and sighed, stepping back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. You cried harder, more sure than ever that Jan was right when he said you were at his mercy; and he didn’t seem to have much.
He fucked you rough and fast, recklessly chasing his own pleasure with no regard for yours. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel any pleasure, though… it was building, in fact, sort of like when you touched yourself but so much stronger, and deeper, and threatening to overflow at any moment. “Oh fuck, you’re close,” he noticed with a tilted grin, “you love it so fucking much, huh? Wanna cream on daddy’s cock?”
You shook your head but he slapped you again, spinning your face to the side as he held both your wrists above your head in one hand and gripped your jaw with the other.
“Stop lying,” he growled, “I can feel it, I can feel your cunt getting tighter… you’re gonna come so fucking hard for me, aren’t you, babydoll? God, what a nasty fucking whore you are…”
He held your face to look straight ahead, up at where he hovered above you and bared his teeth in a snarl, before forcing your mouth open and spitting into it. You grimaced and tried even harder to squirm away but he quickly clamped his hand down over your nose and mouth so you couldn’t try to spit it back out again.
“C’mon, swallow it,” he instructed roughly, voice a bit strained from the force it took to hold you down. You could hardly breathe with his hand this way, and when you tilted your head back to try to get away from it, you accidentally swallowed his spit with a disgusted, muffled grunt. “There you go, good girl,” he purred as he watched your throat bob a bit involuntarily, “that’s it, I know you wanna come— say it! Say ‘daddy I wanna come.’”
He let go of your mouth and slapped you again before you even had a chance to hesitate. “D-daddy,” you whined, “I… I—”
“It’s not that fucking hard,” he hissed, “just say it, you dumb fucking slut!”
One more slap was apparently all you needed to just choke it out: “I wanna come, daddy!” you cried, back starting to arch as the pressure of holding back your release became too much to bear.
“Then fucking come,” he demanded, “come for me, baby, right fucking now.”
You tried to hold out just a moment longer, just to spite him, just so you wouldn’t obey him so easily… but it only took one rough thrust right into the end of you to make it all spill over. You came with a sob, shaking and jerking beneath him for a moment before a warmth spread through you; it started right where he filled you and spread everywhere until your mind was all foggy and your fingers started to go numb— or maybe that was just because of him pinning you down at the wrists.
Much to your disgust, you could hear how wet you had become with every stroke inside you, a sickening squelching noise that made him laugh as your face tingled with numbness and burned with shame all at once. “Oh fuck, that’s it,” he praised, “naughty little dolly, making a mess on daddy’s cock with that dirty fucking cunt of yours… I’m gonna cover it in my come, are you ready, baby? Ask daddy to come on your pussy, don’t make me hit you again.”
“Daddy, please,” you mumbled quietly, “come on my pussy…”
“I can’t hear you, babydoll, you need to speak up,” he mocked.
And you were just so exhausted and overwhelmed and his thrusts inside your sensitive walls were starting to get painful again— that was why you really meant it when you sobbed through your begging: “Please, daddy, come on my pussy!”
With one more panted moan he pulled out and only had to give his cock one blur of a stroke before white, warm come began to paint over your sore opening, your swollen clit, your bruised inner thighs. “Fuuucckkk…” he groaned under his breath as he watched himself coat you, and you caught a tinge of pink from your blood on his cock and hand as he slowed down to a stop. "Sheiße," he sighed, letting go of your wrists to sit up and close his eyes for a moment before looking down again at where you were limp and splayed out on your bed beneath him. “See? I’m getting reckless, I really shouldn’t be leaving evidence…”
Even without that, you knew his name and face, but apparently he was focusing on the copious amounts of DNA he’d just left on you.
“I suppose it won’t be a problem, because you’re not going to tell anyone,” he posited, leaning down slightly to hover over you as you swallowed around the rock that had suddenly formed in your throat. “You know how I know you won’t?”
You weakly shook your head, already terrified to imagine what the answer to that question was going to be. Of course, your first assumption was that he was going to kill you, or threaten to do so if you involved the police. He knew where you lived, he could threaten your family, too: the thought made your skin crawl as he leaned down further to whisper right against your ear as you instinctively turned your face away from him.
“Because if you tell someone that I raped you,” he finally continued, “then you’ll also have to tell them that you liked it.”
Speaking right against your ear, it took him no effort at all to stick his tongue out and lick you right on it, making you squeal with fear and disgust.
He quickly hopped off the bed and recollected himself, stuffing his softening and blood-stained cock back into his pants before gathering his discarded clothes from the floor. "Your folks won't be home for two more nights, right? I should come visit you again," he winked when he spared a glance at you. “Now get some rest, baby, you deserve it. Don’t worry, I’ll lock the front door behind me when we leave… wouldn’t want anybody unsavory getting in, now would we?”
431 notes · View notes
prose-for-hire · 3 years
Text
Kiss me quick
Pairing: Spike x Summers!reader
Request: Hi! Can I request a Spike x Summers!reader, where the reader is trying to keep their relationship on the downlow since none of the Scoobies really approve, but after a big win the reader finally kisses him in front of everyone, proving that they do care deeply for one another and everyone just has to accept it.
Requested by: Anon
Warning: Reader gets injured but nothing serious. sex references/implication of sex.
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You looked out into dimly lit street, the dark had surrounded you now but ever since you had been meeting this way you couldn’t help but smile whenever the sun began to descend from the sky. You were stood, under a streetlamp, three streets away from your house. Just far enough where nobody from your household would catch you meeting him this way. You had been meeting like this for a while now.
He got a kick out of coming up behind you and immediately pressing you against the nearest wall and crashing his lips to yours. His favourite greeting entailed leaving you breathless and ready to pull him closer no matter what your surroundings were. He often mumbled his hellos through stolen kisses. His passion never died, he was all in. Completely yours.
You couldn’t shake this feeling. That you were completely in love. You had silently tried to fight it to begin with, knowing that those around you wouldn’t approve. That Spike himself may not even reciprocate your feelings. But soon it became clear that there was no hiding these feelings that always bubbled to the surface whenever he was near.
You had started fooling around to begin with, before it all changed. For the better, both of you agreed. Your feelings had taken hold of you both, fuelled by the touch of skin. The depth of mind. Unspoken emotions kept the two of you in a chokehold before you finally spilled your feelings for the other.
Ever since you quit college, you had spent all of your free time sneaking around with Spike. It was, honestly, as thrilling as it was annoying. As much as you wished you could just tell everyone how much you loved Spike - how amazing he was with you, you couldn’t. You had to hide it, the implications of your friends and sisters finding out would be a fate worse than death. In fact, for spike it may mean actual death this time.
Unfortunately, you were the middle child. You were a year younger than Buffy and she never let you forget about it. Meaning, Buffy thought she was the boss of you. Not to mention Dawn basically clung onto your leg to stop you from leaving the house (and thus, preventing you leaving her behind where she couldn’t follow you around). This meant that, often, you didn’t get much spare time for sneaking around with Spike. But, God, did you make it your biggest priority. After… saving the world… obviously.
When you did manage to share these intimate moments, it was everything. It felt as if you were the only people in the world. The only people that had ever felt anything close to this. Nobody had loved this deep. Cared this much. You were both so sure. These feelings, they were eternal. He vowed it to you, one early morning you had spent with your naked bodies pressed together, baring your souls well into the night.
Any emotional scars you harboured seemed to heal just by speaking to him. By having that soothing voice share his own darkest moments with you in return. How that voice, those eyes could have seen and done so much and still make you feel undeniably safe you weren’t sure. But, you trusted him. Even if danger appeared to surround him at every turn. You wouldn’t change him for anything. You loved the good, the bad and the oh-so-attractive parts of him.
Vulnerabilities turned to strengths when you were together. Rough edges appeared smoother. Promises held meaning. You adored him and he confessed to you that he had never been so comfortable in a relationship. He could be himself, could express his feelings without being concerned you would turn away from him.
The first night you invited him into your home made him elated. You had to make him swear not to tell Buffy because you knew she wouldn’t take it well. Like, at all. As much as he would have loved to rub it in the slayer’s face that he had been given access to her house – he loved you too much to even think to upset you in this way. So, you carried on this way, unable to keep your hands and lips from each other for more than an evening at a time. This meant mostly, he stayed at the Summer’s residence or you left to the crypt. Sometimes, you even went for real dates – so long as you were sure that everyone else you knew would be busy elsewhere.
Tonight, you were going to the Bronze together. It was a little more of a risk than usual, but he had insisted on taking you somewhere he knew you would enjoy. Muttered something about not keeping you in the shadows before taking your hand and leading the way. The truth was, Spike was in fact just very smitten with you. And he pretty much wanted everyone to see that you were with him. This was ‘everyone’ except the scoobies and any family members you happened to have crawling out of the woodwork. It was safe though, everyone else was going to some college party and Buffy had told you that it was uncool to have her younger sibling come along.
Buffy was the only one that viewed you as the ‘younger sibling’ the others were friends with you because they were fond of you. Because, well, sometimes you appeared more mature than Buffy did – not that they would ever say that to her face. Although there was always that slight worry that if they hadn’t been friends with Buffy they wouldn’t have been as close with you. You were barely a year younger than Buffy but she was still incredibly protective of you as she was the oldest.
What you hadn’t banked on, whilst you rubbed Spike’s thigh under the table, was that Xander hadn’t been invited to the party. He saw you immediately and made his way over to you with Anya close behind. You almost choked on your drink as you saw them come up behind Spike. You snapped your hand away in shock much to Spike’s displeasure.
“Hey, Y/n-” he started and then stopped when he saw Spike’s presence, “He bothering you?”
“No, he’s just-”
“Warming you up, right pet?” His eyes glistened as he spoke, an eyebrow raising which made Xander scowl. You tried your best to hide the smile at your boyfriend’s words as Xander looked between you both. Xander liked to think of himself as your older brother and had decided you needed defending. You opened your mouth to say otherwise but ended up being cut off by a very urgent ex-vengeance demon.
“It doesn’t matter that they’re dating right now, we are all going to get ripped into pieces if the demon finds us!” Anya shouted. You hadn’t been as secretive as you thought then.
“An!” Xander hissed, sharing a look. At the exact same time you and Spike shared a look too. You wondered who else had seen straight through your sneaking around and longing glances you shared through scooby meetings.
You were sharing looks for different reasons though. They had obviously discussed what not to say beforehand and Anya had characteristically ignored his warning. There was some kind of demon threatening the town. Again.
“What’s going on, Xander? Anya?” you tried for your ex-vengeance demon friend when Xander didn’t speak. There was definitely something odd going on. At her name being called, despite Xander’s warning, she launched into an explanation.
“Xander got annoyed at our sex-spell and ripped a page out of my very rare copy of ‘magic, sex and me’ which ruined our entire evening!” She scowled and crossed her arms before continuing, “Now we have to kill it instead of having our sexy time” she pouted.
“We’ll pretend we didn’t hear about a sex spell-”
“Well, I want to hear about it. Can’t get it up, mate?” Spike taunted which only made Xander redden further after Anya’s admittance. Xander stepped as if to hit your vampire but you stepped in the way and wheeled Xander away, changing the subject.
You asked instead about what this demon was like. Anya explained that it was a Scorn-demon. Ridiculously hard to kill and bound to the pages of a book as no mortal prison can hold it. It looked as if you were in for a long night. Which is exactly what you and Spike had planned although for a very different reason.
“If all of us are looking, we’ll find it quicker” You offered, Xander had been embarrassed to explain because of the reason they were doing a spell. But now Anya had told anyone anyway, he was grateful of the help. You got to your feet, ready to follow them out as Spike got up beside you.
“Looks like no bugger’s getting any tonight” Spike muttered, rolling his eyes as you apparently volunteered you both to assist your friend.
“Just working ourselves up… right?” You offered which made him smirk. God, he had been rubbing off on you. You almost felt yourself mirroring his smirk at your words. He wanted to pull you in and kiss you until you admitted just his presence could get you worked up enough alone, but he knew the importance of hiding this from your friends. Which, really was the only reason he didn’t take you right there in the middle of the Bronze.
Instead, you just trailed behind Xander and Anya’s bickering and tried to locate this demon. You called Buffy’s cell and left a message. You knew this was probably going to end with a battle you were unequipped for. You just hoped that you ran into your sister before you ran into the demon. By all accounts he sounded nasty.
As you walked, you and Spike kept sneaking glances at the other when you hoped the others weren’t looking. It was hard, having to maintain this distance when all you wanted to do was reach for him. Show him your affection freely. When you caught the other’s eye, you couldn’t help but smile. You felt so lucky, to have someone that cared so deeply. Someone who wasn’t afraid to share their love so freely.
You wanted to slide your hand in his, tell him just how lucky you felt. Just how much you felt for him, although you were sure he must be sick of how often you told him you loved him. He never was, of course. It was the sweetest music hearing that phrase from your lips. He kissed them a thousand times just to catch the remaining sweetness from your tongue. With those words, nothing should be wasted. He wanted to savour every syllable of your love.
You kept walking until you had to come to an abrupt halt. Dawn turned a corner and crashed straight into you. Turns out, your hopes came true: you did come across your sister first. It just happened to not be the one you expected.
“Oh, I didn’t know you guys were ready for, like, double dating yet” Dawn teased. She, too, had decided that you and Spike had to be dating. She often brought it up to annoy you but she believed it all the same. Spike never corrected her and you had stopped bothering too. You would only come off as defensive and she would tease you for that. You honestly couldn’t win living under the same roof as Dawn, she could be relentless.
Spike leaned in to whisper something in your ear, his lips so close to your ear you could imagine the way they would feel if he leaned in further and pressed against your skin. You smiled at his comment, he always made you laugh. He liked to hear your laugh and it passed the time while he waited for the fight that was coming.
When you looked back up, Willow and Tara had caught up with your group. They gave you a knowing look at how close you were stood to Spike. You wanted to lean on him, inhale deeply and press kisses against the curve of his neck. You loved the way he gripped you closer when you did that. But you had to snap yourself out of this thought at the arrival of your sister. Buffy immediately started giving orders, not before she gave you a warning look for letting Dawn come with you after she scowled at Spike for his mere presence.
“I brought the research – I think there’s a spell, but we’ll have to weaken him first” Willow muttered, frowning at Anya and blaming her for this spell and putting her best friend in danger. 
“The spell needs lovers to complete it. Do you think you could help us Anya? Xander?” Tara asked softly, “But I’m not sure if that’s enough to hold him”
Because the demon was attracted to love and sex, couples were needed to cut off his power at the source. It fed from lovers and by concentrating that power it could reverse and thus weaken the demon within a certain spot.
“Well, if we need couples we have at least three pairs here. Maybe that would be enough?” Willow asked. Making everyone look around to count the pairs. Everyone’s eyes then landed on you and Spike. The last to look was Buffy who raised an eyebrow between you both.
“Does everyone know we’re dating?!”
“Pretty much, sweetie” tara nodded.
“We just didn’t wanna embarrass you. It’s… Spike” Buffy cringed at even the thought of it, “I, uh, thought you would have kinda got it out of your system by now though” Buffy hitched her nose up at the idea of the two of you, but shrugged. She saw it as a meaningless relationship. The kind she had with Parker in her first year of college but more often.
From what you gathered as they didn’t correct her, nobody really thought Spike capable of any kind of meaningful relationship. And with him not being able to actively harm you, they just decided to avoid the topic entirely until one or both of you got bored of the sex. The only one that hadn’t thought anything of your sudden proximity with Spike every time he turned around, was Xander. He really would have said something if he had known. But he still wasn’t convinced now – no matter how often Anya insisted.
You slid your hand into his, now that everybody appeared to know that you were together at least. He smiled at this, looking down at your hands back to your face. This smile, it was softer than he would usually show in front of the Scoobies, it was one only for you. Where he felt such genuine happiness. Such adoration.
As usual, nobody really wanted to discuss your love life (rather just ignore and hope it went away) and so began to look away from you and discuss the demon again. You began following the trail of destruction. He wasn’t so hard to locate really and Buffy immediately attacked him as Willow and Anya set up in a large triangle around the fight. Each couple was at each point of the triangle as the recital occurred. A flash of light surrounded the demon and Buffy before it faded, showing the demon now fighting sluggishly.
You tried to protect Dawn the best you could while Spike and Buffy took it in turns to throw punches at the now marginally weakened demon. You and the others helped when you could but he was so strong even now the spell had worked, that humans barely affected him.
Somehow the demon broke from Spike’s hold and started for Dawn - who he had sensed as the weaker member of your group. You charged in front of your younger sister to try and distract him. This lead to him twisting you and throwing you into the air and crashing into a nearby storefront. You were flung straight against the wall and hit your head quite badly. He watched you falling like a ragdoll, appearing limp due to the blow.
His gut dropped. He left Buffy to the fight. All that mattered now was that you were okay. He had never been so scared. Spike rushed over to you, dropping to the floor so that he could cradle your head in his lap. There were a few seconds where he didn’t know what to do.
But then just as he thought he may have lost you, hope was restored again. You open your eyes, your smile a little dazed as you looked at him from your position in his lap. He looked up to the sky in relief, as if silently thanking the powers. His eyes danced with emotion as he looked back into yours. He wouldn’t know what he would do without you. Couldn’t even imagine it less his heart would begin to ache with phantom loss.
He was so overcome by the thought of losing you that he immediately caught your lips with his. Pouring every single feeling he had ever experienced for you into that one kiss. His hand cupping your cheek, the other on the small of your back – pressing you closer to him. As if this kiss may well be your very last. You reciprocated without hesitation, your lips felt as if they had been moulded just for this very moment. This kiss, it said everything. Promised everything and you smiled into it. Your lips moving against his urgently, insisting he feel your love for him. Even in your weakened state, all of your energy went into kissing him.
In the same moment, Buffy managed to finally slay the beast and Tara and Willow muttered some words that sent him into the book he would now again call home. Buffy whipped around to catch you both kissing so desperately. The rest of the group stopped still and staring too. Every mouth agape in shock. At just how much you appear to feel for the other. This wasn’t just a quick shag when the feeling struck. One wasn’t taking advantage of the other. This was love. The truest kind. And nobody could deny it now, not even Xander.
After you parted, reluctantly on both parts, he took on your weight as you all walked back, everyone except him in silence. He doted on you, pressing a kiss against your temple every few paces – just because he could now in this company. He wanted to offer you all of the comfort he could. He was whispering to you trying to make sure you didn’t fall asleep. He was sure you had a concussion (I mean, you kissed him that way in front of all of your friends without any worries after all).
Buffy didn’t even object when it appeared that Spike was walking their way home. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Everyone could see just how deeply you cared for each other. It was undeniable, even to your older sister.
Spike was just pleased you would make it and be okay. And… he began to get smug that he was finally able to show the slayer that he could access her house this entire time.
594 notes · View notes
titan-fodder · 3 years
Text
Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)
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Summary: Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.
Not dead; just waking up.
Rating: E (explicit)
Word Count: ~19.5K
Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, Eruri, implied Mobuhan, spelling Miche ‘Mike’, swearing, fighting, lots of nerdy shit, explicit sexual content, breeding kink
A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile’s Apocalypse collab. I urge everyone to check out all the pieces on the masterlist. A big thanks to @pleasantanathema​ and @whats-her-quirk​ for being about as excited about this as I was, to @shadowworks​ for always encouraging me when I take on projects too big for my own good, and to @mindninjax​ who volunteered her husband’s expertise on this. I’m pretty proud of this piece and had a blast writing and researching for it. This is by no means scientifically accurate, but I did my best to make it realistic (as in I watched Supervolcano again and spent a lot of time on the USGS website). Also, I have been to Yellowstone exactly one (1) time in my life and was terrified the entire time which is where my fixation with it comes from. 
Enjoy~
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GLOSSARY
Caldera - large basin-shaped volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*
Pyroclastic flow - A hot (typically >800 °C), chaotic mixture of rock fragments, gas, and ash that travels rapidly (tens of meters per second) away from a volcanic vent or collapsing flow front.*
Tephra -  pieces of all fragments of rock ejected into the air by an erupting volcano.
VEI - The Volcanic Explosivity Index (VEI) is a relative measure of the explosiveness of volcanic eruptions.*
*definitions taken from USGS website
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4  Y E A R S  B E F O R E 
Levi looks pissed when he’s on screen. He looks pissed all the time, but he looks especially pissed when he’s made to stand in front of pointed cameras and outstretched microphones. 
You can’t blame him; it’s not actually his job to deal with the press, but some years ago, Erwin had twisted his arm this way and that and convinced Levi to take over conferences.
“They understand you better,” he’d said. “You enunciate better than me. We can’t have people misunderstanding me and panicking, can we?” The blond had purposely spoken with an accent thicker than usual, and Levi had called him every name under the sun, but in the end, he’d relented, and now…
“Dr. Ackermann! Dr. Ackermann! Is it true that this has been the largest earthquake in Yellowstone since Hebgen Lake?” 
Levi squints, actually cringes at the question, then waves one of his small, bony hands. “Hebgen Lake was a major quake—7.2 on the Richter scale. This was only a 5.3, and yeah, it’s been a while since the park has had a quake larger than a three, but that doesn’t mean—”
“So, should we be worried about a supereruption?” Another reporter asks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing as the light leaves your colleague’s eyes. 
Levi’s jaw slides, and he pauses, no doubt to think about how to answer because this is a delicate question, one that the general public always reads extremely far into. He’s good at keeping his expression blank, at least, probably another reason Erwin requested he take over interviews. 
“Listen,” he starts off, slate eyes locking onto the largest camera in front of him. “Yellowstone is a hub of seismic energy. It wouldn’t be the park we know and love today if it wasn’t shaking and letting off steam like it usually does, right?” This gains a few relieved chuckles from the crowd of journalists. 
“Was this earthquake bigger than the ones we’re used to? Yes. Are we monitoring each and every tremor that we pick up? Also, yes. So, don’t make yourself sick worryin’ about sh—stuff you can’t control. We’ll let you know if it’s time to worry.” He sucks his teeth for a second, waiting for his advice to wash over everyone, then adds, “Keep a bug-out bag packed, though. Not because of the volcano or anything. Just because… The world is crazy and so are people, and it’s always good to be prepared.”
They take it as a joke, laugh a little louder as Levi steps down from the podium, but you’ve worked with him long enough to know he had made the comment with serious intent. It’s a lot easier to fly out of town at a moment’s notice when you already have the necessities packed, and though he won't tell them all the facts this early on, there’s a chance that they will eventually have to evacuate, yes. 
“I fucking hate that big, blond bastard,” is the first thing Levi tells you when he’s within earshot, much less well-spoken in casual situations than when his face is being broadcasted. “Voht iff they dunt understahnd me, Lebi?” He mimics your boss badly then pantomimes an uppercut with a dramatic grunt. 
“Why’d you make him sound Russian?”
“I was trying to make him sound stupid ‘cause that’s what he is.”
“I have four doctorates,” Erwin states as he falls into step with both of you, finally moving from his little hiding place behind one of the news trucks. “I’m not stupid. And, I do not sound like that.”
“That’s what you think,” Levi grumbles, doing his best to shrug away from the larger man when Erwin slings an arm around his shoulders. It doesn’t work, and Levi ends up stumbling to keep up with Erwin’s longer strides, which only serves to irritate him further. 
“You looked good up there. I mean, you sounded good. Sounded sure, comforting…” 
You shake your head at Erwin’s obvious struggle to just not be the big weirdo that he is, but it sure is painful to watch sometimes. 
Governor Zachary takes over the conference, leaving the three of you to make your way inside the lodge that the emergency broadcast was set up outside of. Levi and Erwin bicker through the lobby then through the back doors that lead you to the jeep that you all swing yourselves into. 
The sky is still a little dusty with shaken sediment, and some of the park rangers are setting up barricades at the mouths of a couple hiking trails leading to what is now a moderately large crevasse that’s opened up in the Biscuit Basin. 
Other than that, the park doesn’t feel much different as you ride through it on your way back to the lab. The Summer sun brings with it your favorite 70 degree days, and if it weren’t for Erwin’s questionable driving, you’d be tempted to hang half your body out the window just to feel the warmth better. The faint smell of sulfur in the air is soothing at this point—the smell of activity, the smell of science, the smell of home. Geysers are still shooting boiling water to the skies. The mud pots are still bubbling like ominous cauldrons. That earthquake couldn’t have shaken too much out of place if all the geothermal spots are still behaving as they normally do.
The tires kick up rocks and dust as Erwin brakes dramatically outside of the base, right behind another familiar jeep that makes Levi roll his eyes. 
“Great. The boy scout’s here.” 
“Oh, be nice, you little grump,” Erwin chastises him. “Mike’s been nothing but kind to us since he started working here.”
“Yeah, except for the time he misjudged the depth of that puddle and—”
“Splashed you with mud, yeah, yeah, we know, Levi,” you finish for him as you slide out of the vehicle. “You bring it up every time you see the guy. We know.”
“And, didn’t he apologize afterward?” Erwin prompts.
Levi doesn’t answer, but you respond for him: “Profusely. Drove him back to the lab, offered him his spare change of clothes—”
“Useless,” Levi hisses. “The dude’s a giant.”
“Not his fault he’s…” You try not to sound too giddy when you step through the door and see the man in question. “Enormous.” 
You don’t know Mike very well, one of the newer park rangers but with a background in geology which leads him to your neck of the woods very often. The few conversations you have had with him have all been pleasant. He’s soft-spoken but obviously intelligent with good instincts about both the park’s weather and wildlife. 
He’s also the only ranger you’ve seen actually pull off the dorky park uniform, but that could just be because the different shades of green look good against his tan skin and bring out his light eyes. Even taller than Erwin and a little broader too, M. Zacharias (as his little, metal name tag reads) is a slab of a man, and yet, when he grins, it’s almost boyish. 
“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” You greet.
He turns his head to look at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, then offers one of the soft smiles you were hoping for. “Just came to drop off some samples for Hange.”
“Disgusting,” Levi mutters just for you to hear as he passes, and you shove him hard enough to make him stumble and flip you off. 
“How’d the press conference go?” Hange asks, tossing a small, corked flask of mud from hand to hand—what you assume to be the sample—while twirling in their computer chair. The last member of your team, Moblit Berner, glances away from the holographic model he’s studying to hear the answer. 
“I think it went well,” Erwin says. “Levi handled it like a champion, as always.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man,” the brunet bites out, joining Moblit next to the expensive projection table in the middle of the lab. “What’re we lookin’ at?”
“I’m just running the numbers from today’s quake. The possible effects it had underground.”
“And?”
Moblit is quiet for a beat too long.
“Mobs, what is it?” 
You, Erwin, and Hange make your way over to the table, staring at the laser-lit park model and the chamber underneath it. 
“Well, in most of the scenarios, it’s fine,” Moblit tries. “Nothing to worry about.”
“And, in the others?” 
He looks to Erwin, as everyone does in times of concern. Thick eyebrows pinched together, your boss motions to the hologram. “Show us.”
Moblit punches a few things in on the app he uses to control the model, then takes a deep breath and lets it play out for everyone to see, including Mike who slowly makes his way over, curiosity apparently getting the best of him. 
At first, nothing looks to change, just a living, breathing reenactment of what you were seeing today—every geyser, every fumarole, every little rumble, every minute rise and fall of the ground sped up to be detected with the human eye. 
And then, it stops. 
“Why did it…”
“Just watch,” Moblit shushes you. 
The outline of the ground fractures in several different places, statistics for different earthquakes blinking above. The known vents of the park—every geyser, mudpot, and fumarole—are rendered inactive, and under it all, that massive chamber everyone is always so worried about begins to bulge upward and outward, growing larger and larger until…
The map shorts out, flickering then disappearing entirely, leaving the six of you staring at the space where it was shining just seconds ago. 
“Was that…” 
Erwin inhales deeply through his nose before exhaling the word that will eventually bring the nation to its knees.
"Supereruption."
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3  Y E A R S  B E F O R E
Even through the thick headset, the whir of the helicopter blades is loud, a rhythm pulsing through the air strong enough to be felt in your chest right alongside your beating heart. 
Thankfully, Mike’s deep voice is loud and clear when he speaks, nodding his head to the right, “Look down at about two o’clock.”
You follow his command, tilting your head and peering down at an empty field. 
“I don’t see anything,” you say.
The microphone hanging in front of his mouth picks up his chuckle, and the sound of it echoes in your ears, making you grin albeit a little confused. 
“Exactly. That’s a big spot for bison this time of year.”
“Then why aren’t they here?”
Mike lets the chopper hover for a while, both hands still on their respective control levers. 
“Ground’s been moving too much,” he says after a few seconds of silent staring. You’d known the answer already but hearing the wildlife expert confirm it fills you with a little more dread than you’d originally harbored. “They feel things we don’t, the tiny quakes, the tremors. Stuff you only think the seismograph picks up—they feel all of it.”
“They know what’s coming,” you say more to yourself than to him. 
Mike offers you one of those charming, close-lipped smiles. “When in doubt, trust the animals.” 
A line you’ve heard him say a few times now. Mike loves everything that lives in the park, from all the common lake trout and sand cranes to the endangered grizzly bears and gray wolves. 
Trust the animals, he says. Because he trusts them. Because he loves them. 
“You wanna fly over the Grand Prismatic?” Mike asks, pulling you from your thoughts, and when you look over, you find your reflection in his mirrored aviators as he stares at you. 
His mouth quirks up at the corners, causing yours to do the same, and you nod. “Yeah, always.”
It’s your favorite view in the park, the colorful spring from up above. Mike had learned that a few months ago, and now whenever you ride in the chopper with him, he makes sure to pass over the beautiful attraction just for you.
Nearly 200° Fahrenheit with a pH of 8.7, the pool, while still dangerous due to its temperature, is one of the more moderate dangers of the national park, tame in comparison to the Norris Geyser Basin with temperatures up to 459° (a thousand meters below the surface, anyway) and a pH of about two. It’s dissolved bones—human bones. And, would claim even more if given the chance. 
You suppose that’s expected for a basin that’s sitting over a chamber of 1,500° molten magma. 
The Grand Prismatic is just as stunning today as it is every other. Its outer orange and yellow rings darken to greens and blues the further inward you look, thick steam rising from all over but more condensed over the middle. 
It was one of the park's biggest attractions, tourists flocking to the spring with their cameras, too stricken by the vivid chromaticism to listen or read about the temperatures and microbials that are responsible for the colors in the first place. 
As you hover above now, just to the side of the steam, your heart aches. There are no ignorant tourists to take pictures of the pool, the boardwalks and trails to these hot spots now blocked off once it became apparent that the earthquake that took place last year was not the last of its kind. Your team as well as the park rangers went to the park board as a unit and suggested that tourists needed to be kept away from as many geothermal features as possible, all of you with the same fear in mind: someone (or many someones) falling in. 
It's always been a risk, but now, with weekly rumblings, that risk has multiplied exponentially. All it takes is someone losing their footing on the boardwalk over the Norris Geyser Basin for serene sightseeing to turn into tragedy, and that's on a good day. Throw a 5.7 earthquake into the mix, and the park could lose an entire tour group to the heat and acid. 
It's just not a risk any of you are willing to take anymore. 
Most of the park remains open. Old Faithful continues to draw people in by the thousands. They sit and watch boiling water shoot into the sky every hour or so, clapping happily at the sight, unaware of the way you and your team hold your breath in wait, hoping for the geyser to go off on its usual schedule. 
One day it will stop. One day they'll all stop. And, then… 
"I can't believe it's all gonna be gone one day," you muse, blinking down at the prismatic pool for as long as Mike will let you. 
"Nah," the man disagrees. "Not gone. Buried, yeah, but not gone."
You snort, turn back to him with a grin and roll your eyes. "Yeah, no big deal. Just miles of pyroclast and ash, probably snow when we get thrust into another ice age 'cause of the crazy climate swing..."
"Alright, alright, I get it. The sun dimeth and the land sinketh."
"Gusheth forth steam and gutting fire," you continue grimly.
Mike turns the helicopter back toward the landing zone, saying nothing else and leaving you to take in the sights below. You're grateful for the silence; it's good for processing, for preparation. 
And, you're grateful for Mike, one of your best friends at this point—soft and kind despite his intimidating stature, smart as a whip, and just as stunning, if not more so, than the Grand Prismatic. 
"Any idea what you'll do afterward?" He asks, holding a hand out to you to help you from your seat in the chopper. 
"Not really. Survive, I guess." 
You land just a little too close to him, your face nearly coming in direct contact with his broad chest, but Mike steps back just in time, making you extend your arm, still connected at the fingers, before he drops your hand. 
"A feat all on its own," he says flatly, but he perks up as you both begin walking to the park ranger base. "Maybe you'll find another team to work on."
"I don't want to find another team," you tell him honestly. "This is my team. This is my home."
Mike hums, an understanding little sound, body warm when he gently bumps into you on the gravel pathway to the lodge. "Yeah, I know."
A geophysics major at UCLA with a specific interest in volcanology, getting to intern with the Erwin Smith at the Yellowstone supervolcano had been a dream come true. You'd expected to gain knowledge and experience—nothing more and nothing less. You'd lived out here for one summer during your graduate program, clocking the field experience you needed to get your degree and taking in everything you could. 
Back then, it felt like all you did was ask questions and get in the way. By the end of that summer, you knew every variation of Levi Ackermann's irritated sighs, every different pitch of Hange Zoe's shouts and how they correlated with their experiments. Moblit had been the newest permanent addition and was even more nervous than he is now, trying and failing to keep up with Hange (which he's much better at doing these days). 
They were all fantastic, but it had been the lead researcher who'd reeled you in. You'd never met anyone as passionate as Dr. Erwin Smith, captivated by the monster underneath the park and thrilled to share his brain with anyone willing to hold their hands out for it. Hell, he'd even helped you with your Master's thesis—hydrothermally altered mineralized systems and their seismic reflections. 
When you graduated, the Yellowstone team was the first you reached out to and the first you heard back from. Erwin said you'd been a perfect fit even as a student (which you hadn't exactly believed but definitely blushed at anyway). Mobs, Hange, and even Levi seemed happy to have you back. It was like you were meant to be here. In this park. With all of them. 
Studying the volcano and all of its properties has always been like breathing to you—natural and necessary. You move when it moves, every shake and tremor a heartbeat in your own chest, every shooting geyser like blood in your veins. The mudpots are your bubbling emotions, the fumaroles, your sense of building pressure and release.
You feel at home in the park because you trust it. Because you love it. 
You don't have room for another team in your heart, but as you walk inside the lodge next to Mike, watching as he takes off his sunglasses and grins at one of the other rangers, you think you at least have room for one more person. 
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2  Y E A R S  B E F O R E
The lab has two extra bodies in it—two extra unwelcome bodies who keep getting in your way and touching things as they ask questions that no one has the answers to yet.
“When did you say this was going to happen?” The rotund state governor, Dhalis Zachary, asks for the second time since arriving, picking up a sample test tube that Moblit immediately plucks from his hand with a nervous smile.
“As I said before, it’s difficult to place a concrete timeline on an event like this,” Erwin tells the white-haired man. “We don’t exactly have in depth records of the last three eruptions, so all we have to go off of is the earth itself and our simulations.”
At the edge of the projection table, Nile Dok, FEMA director, cautiously waves a hand through the holographic model displayed in front of him. He obviously doesn’t think anyone is watching him because the slender man jumps in surprise when you snort at your desk, and his angular cheekbones take on a pink tint of embarrassment from having been caught.
He clears his throat, straightens the knot that sits over it, then turns to face Erwin and prompts, “Three eruptions before. One was a lot bigger than the others, though, right?”
Erwin nods. “Huckleberry Ridge. Over two million years ago.”
“We’re hoping—if a supereruption is to occur—it’ll be closer to the size of Mesa Falls,” you pipe up.
“Which one was that?” Zachary asks.
“One-point-three million years ago, two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers of erupted materials…” Levi lists off as he makes his way over to the table with a sanitary wipe in hand. He doesn’t like people in his space, doesn’t like strangers in the lab, even (especially) government officials (“They leave fingerprints, and they breathe on everything, and they waste our fucking time.”).
“Two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers… That’s the best-case scenario?” Zachary looks to Erwin, eyebrows raised high over his wire glasses.
Erwin stares at him for a moment, contemplating the best and easiest way to explain this to someone who has no real experience in the field. Eventually, he settles on, “Moblit, can you run some simulations for me?”
“Of course, sir,” the mousy scientist agrees, phone in hand and pulling up the app before the boss can even finish speaking.
Everyone gathers around the table except for Levi who steps away from it, grumbling under his breath about coming back to clean it later. He at least hits the lights, making the model easier to see as Erwin starts listing off numbers and scenarios.
“The best case, actually, is only one vent opening, maybe two. It would be something comparable to Mount St. Helen’s, though probably a bit bigger, say point-five cubic kilometers of material. It would be necessary to evacuate the park and this region of the state at the very least.”
Zachary hums, “And, how likely is that?”
Erwin shrugs. “Hard to say right now. As the earthquakes increase, though, the likelihood of a small eruption like that, uh, dwindles.”
“Small,” Nile scoffs.
Zachary makes a similar noise, slightly louder, a little more offended, then rattles off, “Mount St. Helen’s killed almost sixty people. The blast, the ash, the lahars—” as if you don’t all already know.
“No one’s discounting the damage of the eruption,” Levi cuts him off. “But, if you’re sweatin’ at those numbers, all due respect, Governor, I don’t know if you’re ready to stomach the rest of this little light show.”
The older man cuts his eyes at Levi who squints right back at him, only turn and shuffle over to his desk when Erwin waves him further away, a silent way of saying ‘keep your smart mouth away from the authority figures’.
“Moving on,” you cough, twirling a finger to get both Erwin and Mobs to continue.
“Yes,” Erwin nods. “So, any eruption is dependent on how much magma in the chamber is eruptible magma. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean it will come out.”
Moblit punches in a few numbers to show what a small-scale eruption would look like, first with one vent then with two.
“With just that amount, even with two vents, it isn’t enough to completely destabilize the chamber.”
“And, destabilizing it would be… bad…” Nile states more than asks, brown eyes lit up by the model in front of him.
“No shit,” everyone hears Levi grumble from his desk, and Erwin huffs and looks at you, expression a little exasperated as he jerks a thumb back toward the grumpy man in yet another one of his silent motions— a plea in this case—'go take care of him’ which you do.
Levi is slumped in his computer chair, arms crossed over his chest as he peers over his desktop at the four men gathered around the hologram.
“Should’a just gone with Hange and the boy scout to collect samples when I had the chance,” he mutters.
“You hate collecting samples, especially sulfur samples. Which is what they’re getting now.”
“Yeah, well I hate these guys even more.” He says it quietly enough so that they won’t be able to hear, and even if they could, both Governor Zachary and Nile are too invested in the information that the scientists are giving them to pay attention to anything else.
“What’d they ever do to you?” You push, curious now because sure, Levi has always been the surliest of the team, but it’s rare that he’s surly and loud about it.
“Nothing. They have done nothing because they don’t belong here. They have no idea—no fucking idea—what’s about to happen.” You can hear his frustration even through his whispers. “Best case scenarios? Why are we even going over those? We know damn well that we’re not looking at one or two vents. And, we’re not lookin’ at Mesa Falls either.”
Letting out a long breath, you lean against Levi’s desk, ignoring the way he grunts in protest.
“I know. I’m sure Erwin and Moblit will prep them for the worst case.”
“There’s no prepping for it,” Levi hisses, gray eyes flashing. “We’re talking about—"
“…A nationwide cataclysmic event.” Both of you register Erwin’s voice at the same time and glance at the other group to find them staring at the lit-up simulation of the Huckleberry Ridge eruption.
“Which would pretty quickly turn into a worldwide problem,” Moblit adds quietly.
“Worldwide?” You hear Nile question in a low but very alarmed tone. “Because of the ash?”
“Well, yes, but, it’s not just ash,” Erwin clarifies, diving into his explanation of tephra and how dangerous it is. He reminds the men how far it traveled after the Mount St. Helen’s eruption since they’ve apparently latched onto that one, then challenges, “Now imagine an eruption about… six hundred times that size.”
“Six…” Nile swallows, turning his entire, slender frame toward Erwin and repeating, “Six hundred times bigger? That’s what we’re expecting?”
In his little rolling chair, Levi’s chest puffs a bit, finally satisfied that the gravity of the situation is beginning to set in. “Maybe they aren’t as dumb as they look.”
Erwin is about to say something, right hand lifted with his index finger extended in a very matter-of-fact way, but before he can manage to get anything out, the door to the lab swings open and Hange walks in, Mike just behind them carrying all the collected samples in what almost looks like a lunchbox.
“We’re back—” Hange stops, taking in their surroundings, the lack of lights, the bright projection, the grim energy, then shouts, “Hey, get some Pink Floyd playing! Like a planetarium in here! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me…”
“Dr. Zoe,” Moblit clears his throat. “We were just going over the utter devastation a supereruption could wreak on the country.”
“Oh, were you?” Hange pauses, brow rising, lips puckering into a sour expression. “My bad.”
Raising a hand to your forehead, you laugh to yourself for a few seconds before shaking the untimely amusement off and making your way over to Mike to take the sample kit from him.
“Careful,” he warns jokingly as he passes it off. “Got some very fragile gas and mud in there.”
“Yeah?” You tease. “So, I shouldn’t, like, shake it or anything?”
“Definitely should not shake it. Here, here, just—” He takes it back, grinning broadly as he tells you, “I think it’s best if you let a professional handle such dangerous compounds.”
All the doom-and-gloom you had been feeling mere seconds ago evaporates entirely, and you let out a frankly embarrassing giggle as you watch Mike very carefully set the samples down on Hange’s lab table, making a show of securing them and whispering a final, “Stay,” so that you clamp a hand over your mouth.
Levi groans in disgust, and, at the same time, Erwin mutters an apology to Zachary and Nile for, “… employing a team of children.”
Your face heats in embarrassment, but it doesn’t keep you from smiling at Mike when he saunters back over, looking rather sheepish himself.
“Lunchtime soon, right?”
“Yeah, in a bit—”
“Please go now, for the love of God,” Erwin sighs. “And, take Levi and Hange with you.”
None of you need telling twice, quickly grabbing wallets and home-packed meals before rushing from the lab before your boss decides to murder one or all of you.
Levi steers Hange toward his car, leaving you alone with Mike which you don’t mind in the slightest. You take most of your lunches with him anyway, some of your breakfasts and dinners too, so this is simply part of your daily routine.
“I’ve got some sandwiches packed already. Wanna hit Mount Haynes?” He suggests, sliding into the driver’s seat of his jeep.
You point a fingergun at him and nod. “I like the way you think, sir.”
He takes a very specific route, avoiding any damaged areas, having to veer off of the actual road at a certain point to take a safer path he and other rangers have made. You watch the mountains of the park grow closer and closer, what you know to be the ridge of Yellowstone’s caldera looming nearer.
Mike parks at the base of your intended destination then reaches into the backseat to grab the aforementioned lunch. You have no intentions of actually hiking to the top of the mountain—don’t have the time or the will, honestly—but as soon as the two of you have worked up a sweat and are at a decent enough elevation to look out on the park underneath, you drop to the dusty ground and take it all in.
Even from this distance, you can see some of the gases and steam in the air. That’s the only movement there is, though, save for the occasional ranger vehicle zipping along. The land seems almost barren at this point. The grass is still green. The sun is still bright as it is every Summer.
But, there are no animals, no tourists, no real life. Instead, it’s been replaced with cracks and crevasses, with barricades and warning signs.
Trail Closed
Road Closed
Danger: Keep Out
It’s been almost six months since the park decided to shut down to the public, and if you’re being honest, it should have closed its doors long before. It took people dying to bring the board to their senses, an earthquake that shook the ground for minutes, the crust of the earth splitting right under the historical lodge that so many loved.
Fourteen casualties. Twenty-nine injured.
That’s what it took.
You barely recognize the park now, feel like the last endangered species left within its boundaries. It’s just the research team, some of the rangers, and the occasional outside visitor (board members, government officials, or press that gets waved away).
Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.
Not dead; just waking up.
“You look tired.” Mike’s voice may as well be carried by the breeze, light and low, refreshing as it passes over you, and you flash him a smile while nodding.
“Exhausted.”
He grabs a sandwich from the lunchbox, and you fish hand sanitizer from one of the many pockets on your pants, squirting it into your hand first then holding it out to the man beside you.
“Seems like you spend more time here than at your apartment.”
“Oh, most definitely.” You unwrap what looks to be turkey and pepper-jack and try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the fact that it’s your favorite simple-sandwich-combo and that Mike remembered. “Lot to do in the lab. Obviously.” You take a bite—no mustard, only mayo—and feel some of the tension between your shoulder blades begin to unwind.
“Figure you wouldn’t want it any other way, though,” Mike comments before chomping into his own sandwich.
“Right you are. I mean, end of the world, potentially. Scary stuff, but also…” You swallow, lick your lips and stare out at the landscape in front of you as you grapple with words. “It’s like… I’m terrified, but I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. Like…”
This is how I’m supposed to go out, you almost say, but you’re smart to keep it to yourself. That’s a thought for you and you alone, one you haven’t shared with anyone because nobody else would understand except maybe Erwin.
“This is what you’re meant to do,” Mike supplies, and you look over at him. “This is what you love. I get that.”
And, he’s right. But, the park and volcanology—those aren’t the only things you love.
Mike sits there, legs crossed like an overgrown kindergartener, shaggy hair blowing in the wind, light green eyes so, incredibly warm and bright, and it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, like your lungs and throat are already full of ash that hasn’t fallen yet, tight with dying declarations you can’t bring yourself to make.
“Have you ever heard of Katia and Maurice Krafft?” You ask, and yes, your voice does feel somewhat strangled, the space behind your eyes burning just a little hotter than usual.
Mike shakes his head, takes another bite, and gives you his undivided attention.
“They were these French volcanologists who got really famous for the pictures and footage they took of erupting volcanoes. The recordings they got for the community were—I mean, they were pioneers. They changed the game. There’s photos and videos of them just—” you gesture nebulously with both your hands, nearly flinging your sandwich off the side of the mountain and making Mike reach out and catch your wrist before you can.
“Please, no feeding the park’s wildlife, ma’am,” he jokes easily, and you have to shove the sandwich into your mouth to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mike shows the smallest of satisfied smiles, completely unaware of his own charm, and it’s maddening and intoxicating, and it’s all you can do to keep talking about the brave scientists.
“Anyway,” you continue. “Katia would get, like, within feet of lava flows. Just walkin’ right beside ‘em in her special heat suit. And, they’d wear protective helmets because of, you know—”
“Explosions. Falling rocks.”
 “Yeah, exactly. They were just there, documenting it all happening, nerves of fucking steel. Katia was usually the one gathering samples and stuff while Maurice recorded, but he was right in the thick of it too. This badass couple learning and adventuring together.”
Mike eventually questions, “What happened to them?” but you’re sure he knows the answer when you deflate a bit.
“Mount Unzen eruption—got caught in the pyroclastic flow. Died instantly.”
“At least they were doing what they loved,” he says, and you nod.
You’re silent for a while, neither of you eating but both of you staring. You think about the Kraffts often, especially now with Yellowstone’s imminent eruption. Doing what they loved… They died for their research, and though you never got the chance to meet them or even speak with anyone who has met them, you have a feeling they wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.
“Just so you know,” Mike gets your attention, and when you look over at him, your heart swells.
The sun is reflected in his eyes, making light green glow with more than just warmth and sincerity, and god, you’re so in love with him, you can feel it in your bone marrow. You ache for him, you pine for him, and you want to live for him, but how…
“I’d film you walking next to a lava flow,” he tells you. Despite the little smile playing at his lips, you know he isn’t kidding.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to look away before any actually fall, but your sniffle definitely gives you away. You swear internally, berating yourself for getting emotional in front of Mike, though you can’t say you’re too surprised. Your stress levels have been through the roof, working non-stop for months now, the government breathing down your neck. People have died and the park is literally fracturing before your eyes, and you’re not ready to see it end—to see everything as you know it come to an end.
“Pretty dusty up here,” Mike comments while nudging you. You find him holding out a handkerchief, letting you take it then turning his gaze forward again to allow you a little privacy to dab at your eyes.
Mike has senses beyond the normal human spectrum. He has a sense for weather unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before, from thunderstorms and tornadoes to record snowfall and, on a few occasions, earthquakes. You can still vividly remember being in the lab the day of the fatal quake that damaged the hotel, seeing Mike suddenly look at the seismogram seconds before it started picking up the first tremors. Levi had called it “freakish”, but you had called him “incredible”.
It’s not just the weather, though. Mike has a way with people and animals too, like he can gauge their emotions and act appropriately. It’s how he knows what days he can push Levi’s buttons and get away with it, how he knows when Hange is too busy and overwhelmed to gather samples themself, so he gathers some for them.
And, it’s how he knows exactly when he needs to pull you into a hug, like when the team realized the chances of a small to moderate eruption were next to nothing, like when he had told you how many of those hotel guests had gotten hurt and died and you’d stared at him with wide, watery eyes, and like right now, as you think about Katia and Maurice Krafft, the fate they met and how yours might not be any different.
Will you die doing what you love? Will you be able to welcome it as bravely as they did?
You rest your head on Mike’s shoulder, letting yourself melt into his side, his arm sturdy and grounding where it wraps around you, and as you look out over the sunlit grounds, one last question plagues your mind:
Does a pyroclastic flow burn as hot as the molten feelings inside of you?
You can’t imagine anything does.
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1  Y E A R  B E F O R E
The message is broadcasted straight from the state capitol, Levi's expression grim as he reads off the paper hidden on the podium. 
"I know all of this sounds apocalyptic—the ash and blackouts and probable climate change, and it is scary, but we still have some time, so there's no reason to panic. We just urge that if you haven't already started preparing, now's the time. Please."
A couple steps behind him and a little to the right is Erwin, standing tall and nodding at everything Levi says as if he's providing some kind of credibility. 
"Considering we're looking at a VEI eight, the team of volcanologists at Yellowstone have recommended that all of Wyoming and its neighboring states evacuate, but I'll let Homeland Security go over all that."
As he turns to step back, the crowd of reporters and journalists begin shouting out questions, and Levi grimaces as he moves to stand next to Erwin who places a hand in his shoulder. 
You can't hear everything being asked from where you're watching at the lab, but you can't imagine it's anything good judging by the way Levi's frown just keeps growing. 
Fortunately, the vaguely familiar secretary of Homeland Security, Dot Pixis, takes the stand quickly, holding up wrinkled hands in an attempt to calm the crowd. 
"We have some more very important information to cover in this address, so if you'll allow me…" He clears his throat and straightens a stack of papers on the podium, no doubt a huge list of protocols that the public will only half listen to. 
You swivel back and forth in your chair as you watch the thin man on screen, his voice scratchy but strangely soothing as he outlines rationing, supply storage, and evacuation routes. 
"We're also negotiating with our neighboring countries about opening borders. Now, anyone seeking refuge would still be required to fill out an application for a temporary visa, but—"
"God, you know they gotta love that," you mumble to yourself. 
Hange, tinkering somewhere behind you, laughs and agrees, "Yeah, after decades of treating immigrants like trash, and now we're just knocking on their doors, asking for help. Ridiculous."
"Embarrassing, is what it is." 
It was for whichever government official had to make that call, anyway. You're positive that had been a hard pill to swallow. 
As far as you've heard, the foreign affairs part of this mess is actually going quite well. You'd accompanied Erwin to the big meeting with Canadian officials and watched him and Pixis plead a case for America, emphasizing just how bad the eruption will be "at home", then switched tactics at whiplash speed to go into how countries needed to work together since this wouldn't just be the US's problem in the long run. 
It turned into a rather inspiring speech, if you're being honest, prompted you to text Levi a short, how is E so damn charming all the time? to which he'd responded, Believe me, you're asking the wrong fuckin guy. 
With multiple government agencies now backing the states and setting plans in motion, the impending eruption seems even more real. You thought your stress levels were high before, that your sleep pattern left little to be desired, but oh, you had been wrong. 
Case in point being Mike walking into the lab with a brown paper bag and slightly unpleasant expression as he asks, "Have you eaten today?" 
Your glare has no real meaning as you grumble, "Had a granola bar this morning."
"It's nearly six," he groans, pushing you, chair and all, up to your desk and setting the bag in front of you. "Please eat something before you pass out."
"Okay, okay, Christ. You're more attentive than my mother."
"I met your mom last year, and you and I both know she would be hysterical if she knew how you've been treating yourself lately."
He has a point. In fact, you're glad Mike is naturally quiet and didn't bond too strongly with her, otherwise you have a feeling he would have called her by now to complain. 
The chicken salad sandwich you bite into must be imbued with some kind of magic, because you let out an honest to god moan when you swallow the first bite. 
"Oh my god, what did you put in this?" You ask as you blink up at your best friend. 
Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. "Uh, actual nutrients maybe? Weird how your body needs those."
Hands too busy shoving more food into your mouth, you headbutt him right at the hip, just hard enough to make him grunt and sway. He steadies himself, glances down at you like he's annoyed but ends up breaking into a grin when he catches what you assume to be a piece of chicken salad dotting the corner of your mouth. 
"What am I gonna do with you," he mumbles, wiping it with a gentle thumb. 
Your body warms with both embarrassment and affection, but you can't quite find a response even as your head clears for the first time in about two days. You really do need to start taking better care of yourself. 
The undeniable feeling of being watched makes your neck prickle, and you break Mike's gaze to find Hange staring at both of you, a not-so-subtle smile making their mouth curl mischievously. You have a pretty good idea of what they're thinking, and you're heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of them possibly speaking it out loud, but before they get a chance, Mike's phone rings. 
You catch a glimpse of the name displayed before he picks it up—Gelgar—recognize it and tease, "One of the doomsday preppers, right?" 
Because no matter how much Mike denies it, just like he does now— "They're not doomsday preppers—" you know that his friends are a little odd. Extremely well prepared, but odd. 
"Hey man, what's up?" He answers, stepping away from you. "Isn't it almost two there?" 
You don't try to listen in, just look back to Hange and shake your head when their smile grows. 
"Stop."
"What?" They giggle. "I'm not even doing anything!" 
"You're thinking things, though."
"Well yeah, I'm always thinking things. How else would I have gotten this smart?" They flip their ponytail for emphasis and toss a wink your way, but Hange's voice gets oddly sincere when they tell you, "Seriously, though. You guys should get while the getting's good. I don't know why you haven't jumped each other's bones yet."
You splutter, look around frantically to make sure Mike isn't within earshot, and thank god, he's in the next room over. 
"Hange!" 
"I'm just saying! It's like watching Erwin and Levi from a few years ago. God, that was a nightmare."
"How dare you. I am nothing like—"
"Yeah, yeah. When do they get back in anyway?" 
You both look to the TV that's still playing the live address, easily spotting your missing team members behind Secretary Pixis. 
"Probably not 'til later tonight. Levi's gonna try to talk Erwin into getting a hotel, I bet, but he's gonna wanna come back to the lab and check everything before he goes to bed."
"How do you know he wants to come back?" 
You show a sheepish grin, fishing the chips out of the paper sack Mike brought, then answer, "'Cause that’s what I’d wanna do."
*
It's late. Far too late to be at work, but being at home never feels right these days. It's too quiet, too still, too not the lab. The only time you genuinely enjoy being there is when friends are over for a movie or meal over the weekend. Other than that, you're not at all attached. 
Not the way you are here.
Almost midnight, you move from table to table, working, organizing, just keeping busy. You're very awake, still jittery from the quake that shook the park at around three that day. It lasted for almost three minutes, splitting the ground dangerously close to Old Faithful, and the geyser hasn't gone off since which is troubling. If too many of the geothermal spots stop releasing pressure, the eruption will take place sooner than anticipated. 
It's why you're here so late, pouring over the data, studying the numbers and possible effects. 
You're not alone, though. Erwin is also shuffling around the lab, but he's focused on something else, a project of sorts. 
"Can you come take a look at this?" He calls from the projection table, and you drop what you're doing to join him. 
The model isn't lit up as a hologram, surprisingly. Instead, Erwin has paper blueprints laid, curling at the edges from being rolled up. It takes you a second to realize what you're looking at, but when it comes together, you inhale sharply. 
It's a simple design, a square floorplan with a couple entrances. The only exit looks to lead upward, though, and it's easy to tell that means Erwin wants this to be underground. There are notes scribbled in the blank spaces, 4 meters down, bomb proof top, ventilation, generators, gasoline?, rations < 5yrs, medicine, vitamins, guns. The list goes on, handwriting sloppier and sloppier the more thoughts Erwin had at the time. 
"You think this would be ready in a year?"
Erwin shrugs. "With the right construction team, yes. That one bunker designer…" Erwin snaps, trying to think of the name, but it doesn't come to him. "Whoever—He built ten shelters in two years." 
You stick your hands in your back pockets as you lean over to look closer. It could just be your overworked brain, but it looks like a good design, something someone actually has a chance of surviving in. 
Hearing your name makes you look up again. Erwin has you pinned with one of his serious blue gazes. "No one else will understand, so please keep this plan to yourself."
You nod but venture to ask, "You haven't told Levi?" 
"No," he answers, mouth pulling downward. "It's… Going to be a fight."
"Understandably so. You're basically married to the volcano, though, Erwin."
"So are you."
His eyes are shining as your lips twist into a grimace. He's gotten to know you well over the years. You've always shared a certain bond over Yellowstone, one the other team members just don't have. To them, it's just a job, just science. 
To you and Erwin, though, it's a religion. You're in love with the park, all its secrets and eccentricities. It's your home; it's where you belong. 
"Assuming this does get built," Erwin starts, lifting a thick eyebrow in curiosity. "You would want to stay, right?" 
"You mean, ride out a supereruption? Be the first to see the zone-one damage?" 
Erwin doesn't answer, but he does smile, excitement dancing just below the surface of his stare. 
You feel it too, the urge to throw caution to the wind, to take a chance that could very possibly get you both killed. The Kraffts flash through your mind again, their failed attempt at escape.
A breathless, "Fuck yeah," tumbles from your mouth before you can dwell on the consequences for too long. 
It's time to either live it up or go down in ash and flames. 
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6  M O N T H S  B E F O R E 
Yellowstone is unrecognizable. The ground is mostly made up of large crevasses and smaller cracks, debris from fallen buildings left in piles with no one to clean them up. 
The geysers are all inactive at this point, but steam is still rising from the springs, and the mudpots are still bubbling. It's the only thing that's keeping the volcano from erupting. 
The ground shakes multiple times a day, the lab seismographs constantly picking up activity. The little ones don't faze you anymore. You and Mike secure the glass samples to make sure they don't break while Erwin and Levi basically hug their computers. Yours was damaged in the quake that prompted Hange and Moblit to leave—a 6.7 that caused Hange to fall into their desk, breaking their collarbone in the process. After getting Hange pain meds and a sling, the two of them were on a plane to D.C. that same night. 
Every day is another risk taken. Now, it's just you, Erwin, Levi, and Mike. 
The latter two spend most of their days dropping hints about leaving soon as well. Mike has already made plans to fly to Norway and join his not-doomsday prepper friends and brings it up often.
"You should come. See the tulip fields while they're still around."
"Gel and Nana have done a great job setting up the ranch. They wanna let as many people stay as they can." 
"You'd really like them. They bicker like an old married couple, but they're good people."
Levi takes a different approach with Erwin, appeals to the other man's desire to help and protect. 
"We really should head to the homeland security office. They don't know what they're dealing with."
"Dok is an idiot. They need a bigger brain over there for guidance or whatever."
"Your long-term plan will be better than anything those government fucks will come up with anyway."
Every time, you and Erwin gently wave them off with promises of "soon" and "just a little longer." Neither of you breathe a word about staying. Despite the fact that construction on the bunker has not started and you're running out of time, both of you are dead set on the plan: go down with the park. 
You're found out before it can come to fruition, however. 
The remaining team is sitting in the lab, busy with their own little projects, when Mike looks up suddenly, takes a deep breath, then says, "Earthquake," just as the seismogram starts going wild. 
He pulls you from your chair quickly, dropping to the ground and bringing you with him to crawl under your desk. On your knees, your body curls in on itself and you lock your hands over the back of your neck as the floor beneath you starts to rumble violently. 
You can hear Levi cursing from somewhere as the sound of glass shattering rings throughout the lab. You think another computer falls, models and books flying from shelves. 
Mike huddles over you, one hand gripping the leg of the desk while the other protects your ribs. You want to tell him to shield himself, but you know there's no use. Besides, the weight and warmth is comforting even in the face of danger—his chest hot against your back, the epitome of a knight in shining armor. 
It lasts for several minutes. The power cuts off, windows crack, doors swing open only to slam shut again. You know the lab is going to be an absolute wreck when it's over. 
When the shaking finally settles, everyone crawls out of their hiding places. Levi warns, "Be ready for aftershocks," as if you don't know, and Erwin fumbles in his desk until he finds a flashlight. 
The ray of light illuminates the damage. Just as you suspected, the place looks like a tornado blew through. Glass litters the floor along with the far-flung books and park models. Both Levi and Erwin's computers fell and disconnected, and your stomach drops as you think about all the potentially lost information. 
"You okay?" Mike asks, pulling you up to your knees so he can look at your face. 
"I'm fine," you tell him, his hands on your cheeks making you flush, so you distract yourself. "E, Levi, you guys okay?" 
"Yes," Erwin answers first. 
Levi shows his face, a deep frown making his brow furrow, as he looks at his desktop. "I'm pissed but uninjured."
The four of you spend the next couple of hours cleaning up what you can, pausing and taking cover when the aftershocks hit, then starting over as the lab sustains more and more damage. 
Mike sweeps up the glass. Erwin focuses on getting the computers back on the desks safely then goes and checks the projection table. You and Levi collect the bigger items, setting books back on shelves. 
You don't think about the mistake before it's too late, when Levi is already pulling out the blueprints that were hidden behind the stack of encyclopedias. 
As he stills completely, you turn to look at him and find him staring down at the large, uncurled papers. Your instinct is to snatch them from his hands, but it's no use. He's already seen enough. 
"What the fuck is this?" His voice comes out like poison as he immediately looks at Erwin. 
The larger man glances at Levi, eyes trailing to what he's holding, then pales. 
"Levi..."
"Is this a god damn bunker? Are you planning on staying in this hellscape?" 
Erwin strides over to him and reaches for the prints, but Levi tugs them out of reach. 
"Answer me," he spits. "Is that your plan?"
"I—" Erwin swallows thickly before answering, "Yes."
It's silent for a long time, and the more it drags on, the tighter Levi's lips get, gray eyes shiny with quiet rage. 
This is what Erwin was trying to avoid, why he insisted on keeping the bunker a secret. 
But while Levi is glaring at Erwin, you feel another gaze on you. Skin crawling, you chance a glance up at Mike, stomach churning when he looks away quickly and bites his lips. He knows. Somehow without anyone saying anything, Mike knows you’re planning to stay too.
Heavy breathing and the distant sound of rumbling earth is all that can be heard, followed by backup generators roaring to life and restoring the overhead lights. 
"You too?" Mike finally speaks. “You wanna stay too?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, unable to answer. He sounds so disappointed—defeated—and it makes you feel sick. 
"Do you guys know," Levi growls, "How fucking insane that is? This is the dumbest, most reckless, selfish fucking thing you could do! And, I know it's all your thinking!" He drops the blueprints in favor of shoving Erwin roughly, making him stumble back. 
"Hey," you step toward him, but the small man just turns to you and accuses, "And, you egged him on, yeah? Did you even think of us? How we would feel? Staying here is suicide!"
"I have a plan, Levi," Erwin says, raising both hands to his head and effectively disheveling his own hair. "If you just look at the plans. I know what we need to survive. I've done the math, I've studied the—"
"Jesus Christ, we're talking about an eight hundred degree pyroclastic flow! Tephra that will suffocate you. You really think being a few meters down during the eruption will be enough?" Levi is screaming now, his voice cracking, and you think you see tears at his waterline. 
It makes the spaces behind your eyes burn, but it’s only partly out of guilt. The other emotion that’s welling up in you is anger, a betrayal you can barely wrap your head around, but it comes tumbling out anyway.
“Do you even know us? You think we can actually leave the park behind?” Your voice rises to match Levi’s, gains his acidic attention once again. “I don’t even understand how you can run away, after everything you’ve put into this place! How can you just—” You let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a cry as you raise your hands to your face and shove your palms to your eyes. “I get Mike because he doesn’t have anything fucking left here. He’s just been helping out—”
“You think I don’t have anything left here?” He asks quietly from beside you, and when you look at him with a watery stare, you find him wounded. His jaw slides forward as he sucks on his teeth, and fuck, his eyes are getting glossy too. 
“See, this is exactly what I mean,” Levi gestures wildly at the two of you. “Mike and I have stayed because you guys won’t fucking leave, and now it comes out that you were never planning to. When were you gonna tell us? Would you have even given us enough time to get out?”
“Of course!” Erwin takes him by the shoulders, and Levi snarls up at him. “I was working up to it. I wasn’t ready to—to deal with this.”
“I can’t believe this. You really think a whole team of workers is gonna come out here to help build this? You wanna put their lives in jeopardy too?”
“We—”
“You haven’t even thought this through all the way! When did you come up with this? When you hadn’t slept or eaten in forty-eight hours? When your brain wasn’t fucking functioning at full capacity?”
Erwin stays quiet, and so do you because Levi has a point. Taking care of yourselves physically has not been high on either of your lists of priorities, and you’re sure your mental state has suffered for it. All the nights spent at the projection table, mapping out ideas, growing giddy over the idea of staying for the eruption. Was that just two people high off passion, becoming more and more unhinged with each passing day?
Quite possibly. 
You expect the fury to be enough to push Levi away, that he’ll simply give up, drag Mike out with him, and leave you and Erwin to hunker down like you’d planned.
But, that is not the case. 
Instead, he shoves a thin finger into Erwin’s chest, gritting out, “Pack your fucking bags so we can go to D.C. where they need you.”
Erwin takes a breath then slumps in defeat. Now, when faced with the obstacle that is his boyfriend, you figure he’s weighed the pros and cons and made a decision. Between his love for the park and his love for Levi, he’d rather salvage the latter. 
Mike shifts next to you, grumbles out a low, “You too,” that makes the tears finally fall from your eyes. “I’ll take you on one last ride to the springs, but then we’re leaving.”
He stays true to his word, and you cry the entire time you’re in the chopper, headset smushed against one ear as you rest your head on the window and look down at the Grand Prismatic, the steam rising from it. It’s beginning to grow discolored with all the activity, but it’s more stunning now than it’s ever been. 
Soon, it’ll be completely covered. All of it will. And, you could have been too, stuck underground for a couple of years only to be the first to step out into the pure destruction. 
That’s not an option anymore, though, not with Mike looking as grave as he does, not with the way he shadows you in your apartment as you gather the necessities, like he thinks you’re going to bolt and run back to the lab, not when the two of you meet back up with a still-fuming Levi and a despondent Erwin to head to the airport.
The tickets are outrageously priced at such short notice, but that doesn’t stop Levi and Mike from passing their credit cards over.
“Two for Washington D.C.”
“And, two for Bergen, Norway.”
Boarding passes in hand, the four of you walk through the bustling airport together for as long as you can before you have to inevitably split up. Levi glares at you but still pulls you into a tight hug, grunts into your ear, “You’re so stupid,” before letting go and turning to Mike. “Keep her safe, boy scout. I’m trusting you.”
Mike nods, and both of them clasp hands as you turn to look at Erwin. Tears and pathetic sniffles return when you walk into his open arms, clinging to him and mumbling, “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry. I would’ve followed you.”
“I know.” He rubs your back and heaves a sigh. “I know you would have.”
He eventually disentangles you to hold you at arm’s length, wipes the moisture from your face with his thumbs, then shows a sad smile. “See you in a few years, yes?”
“Yeah.”
One more squeeze, and everyone turns away to walk to their respective gate. Mike’s hand splays across your back, warm, guiding you in the right direction, keeping you steady. He’s always kept your feet planted firmly on the ground. You figure, if there’s one person you’d like to experience the downfall of society with—above ground—it’s him. 
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S I X  W E E K S  B E F O R E
Norway is kind of incredible. It has a natural beauty that takes your breath away just like Yellowstone used to, but it’s vastly different. Everything is green, including the lights in the sky at night. You’re surrounded by rolling hills and mountains, and you just know it’ll be beautiful under thick layers of snow. 
The once rustic ranch, now restored, is made up of several small houses and a farm full of cows and goats. It’s sad to think about the fate they will eventually meet (slaughter then stomachs), but you know it’s necessary to prepare for the coming years.
And, the owners have definitely prepared. 
Gelgar and Nanaba are everything Mike described and more. Between taking care of the farm and setting up energy sources, they do their best to make you and the other arrivals feel at home. They’ve designed the ranch to house up to about thirty people, a commune of sorts (minus any cult-like vibes). Naturally, everyone pitches in and helps around the place. You find yourself cleaning a lot, but you don’t mind. It’s a nice, mindless task that keeps you from thinking too hard about everything you’ve left behind. 
You also like to join Nana outside, help with the animals and enjoy the sunshine while you still can. Of course, this subjects you to endless teasing especially today when she catches you staring into the distance at Mike who's helping Gelgar fix a solar panel. 
His shirt is starting to stick to his back from sweating, muscles straining under the damp cloth, and good lord, when did he get that broad? Sure, he's always been tall and fit, but working on the homestead has definitely made him more built. That along with the fact that his hair has gotten long enough to tie up in a bun has your mouth going a little dry. 
"Like what you see?" Nanaba asks, accent thick, voice full of amusement. 
You shoot her a look, face all scrunched up when you mumble, "Don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh?" She sticks her tongue out. "Don't be coy. I see the way you both look at each other."
"Tch." 
"And, how both of you volunteer to cook with the other when it's your turn to. You move around each other like you know exactly where the other is. Two halves of a whole."
You roll your eyes. "We've just worked together for a while. We make a good team."
She's not wrong, though. Since coming to Norway, you and Mike have grown even closer. There was a period of time when you could hardly look at him, too guilty for trying to stay at the park, guilty for hurting him, but eventually the two of you fell back into your normal dynamic—joking, laughing, touching just a little too much, smiling when you think no one's looking. You even spent an afternoon together in a nearby field of flowers, just like he'd promised. With a picnic basket full of food, and a blanket to lay on, you'd admired the clouds overhead while enjoying the rustling grass surrounding you. 
It's been your favorite day since coming here, had reminded you of the lunches you used to share on the mountain. 
You're not brave enough to make any sort of move, though. Mike is just so good. There's a chance his affections are simply based in friendship, and that's something you're scared to ruin. He means too much to you. 
"How long did you work together?"
"Like, four years, give or take a few months."
"And, you're still acting like nothing is there?" Nanaba tsks. "Ridiculous."
"How long did it take you and Gel to get together?" You ask, then quickly backtrack, "Not that that's what I want with Mike necessarily."
"Mhm," she smirks. "Gel and I did it backwards. Got pissed at a bar and fell into bed together. Then we started to get to know each other and found out we just worked."
Sounds about right, you think. The couple has an interesting back-and-forth, half bickering, half innuendo. You can always, always see the love in their eyes, though. That's what you want in life. That’s what you want with Mike. Even if you won't admit it out loud. 
You turn your gaze back to the roof he and Gelgar are on just in time to see him making his way down the ladder. Once on the ground, he and the other man start striding over to you. Mike's face is red, sweat beading at his hairline, and Gelgar's pompadour is beginning to fall. 
"Think we got it fixed up," Mike announces, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his forehead. 
You stare at his toned stomach for just a little too long, the lines of his hip bones leading into the waistband of his jeans. 
Nanaba's words ring in your head again—fell into bed, fell into bed, fell into bed—and you fixate on the idea of you and Mike doing the same. To have him hovering over you, or maybe you over him, thighs on either side of those hips as his hands trail up your body—
You shake the thought from your head, letting your glazed eyes refocus on the men in front of you. 
"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower before dinner. Who's cooking tonight?"
“I believe it's Lynne and Henning," Nana answers. 
Mike nods then heads toward the little house he's been living in, right next to yours, of course. He reaches out to let his hand brush yours as he passes, and it takes conscious effort not to grip onto one or two of his large fingers and follow him. 
"God, that's painful to watch," Gelgar snorts. 
Nana laughs and agrees, "I was just telling her the same thing."
"Oh, shut up. Ya' couple of meddlers."
*
A line forms every evening outside of the main house, the one Gelgar and Nanaba share. You and Mike stand together at the back, watching everyone in front of you. Some are families, some are couples, some are here alone. You figure, no matter their status, the ranch is a nice place to be—peaceful, home-y despite its size. So far, everyone gets along. 
Only the kids complain about chores, about seven of them constantly running around together, but that’s to be expected, and honestly, you don’t mind picking up their slack. Life is about to get very difficult for them. They should get to be children for a little while longer. 
Potato soup is poured into your bowl with a ladle, topped with shredded beef and green onions, then you and Mike retire back to your little cottage home to eat and watch TV. It stays on the same channel, world news, and there’s always a long segment that covers Yellowstone and what it’s doing. 
It is not uncommon at all to look up from your food and see Erwin or Levi’s face on screen, speaking with experts, sometimes in interview-like settings.
Tonight, they’re covering a problem that’s been going on for some time, but everyone figured would resolve itself: some people will not leave the most dangerous zones, and it’s because they simply do not believe an eruption will take place. 
Even with the evidence, the science backing it—even with actual federal authorities knocking on their doors and telling them to leave—there are many people who just want to stay put. It’s insane to you, makes your blood boil. Children have been taken from their homes to be placed in safer areas, which only causes the disbelievers to get angrier. They want to say “I told you so”, but that’s not going to happen. 
What’s going to happen is getting burned alive in the flow that pours from the volcano. They will die a painful death, get buried under meters of fallout, ash, snow. There’ll be nothing to recover except for petrified, charred corpses. 
Of course, the irony is not lost on you; you and Erwin were both willing to chance similar fates, but you still think the two of you would have been more prepared than these regular-Joes who think their front door is enough to stop a volcanic eruption. 
“In the end, there’s no reasoning with people like this,” Erwin says on camera, a soft, sad smile playing at his lips. “When a person is so, uh… Dead set on staying, it will take an unstoppable force to move them.”
In your case, that unstoppable force had been Levi screaming at you while holding back tears. 
“Unfortunately for them, this force is the eruption, and they won’t be able to leave when that occurs.”
“Because they’ll be dead,” the reporter states more than asks.
Erwin nods and answers with a grim, “Yes. Yes, they will be.”
They’re not trying to be subtle, obviously hoping that this will get through to the stubborn masses, but you doubt it will. They’re living on borrowed time at this point. Any day could be their last.
Mike is quieter than usual as he eats, barely even looking at the television screen, and you have a feeling he’s thinking about how close you were to staying alongside those stupid assholes. It’s still a touchy subject, one both of you do your best to avoid. You’re mostly happy to be in Europe, spending your days with Mike and his friends and everyone else running around here. 
But, there’s also a part of you, deep down inside, that aches, that misses the park, that still wants to be right in the middle of the destruction. Watching it blow from so far away is going to hurt. This massive monster you’ve fallen in love with over the years will never be the same, and your last good look at it was that tearful helicopter ride. 
You’re not resentful toward Mike or Levi for dragging you out of the lab that day, but you are grieving in a sense. 
The program ends with Erwin giving one last warning— “If you insist on staying, I’d advise bomb-proofing your home, stocking up on several years-worth of rations, and installing one hell of a ventilation system. Good luck.”
Mike clears his throat and stands, grabbing his empty bowl as well as yours, then heads into the kitchen to rinse them off. 
Sighing, you follow him, lean against the counter a couple feet away as you think of something to say that won’t sound too forced.
“Hey,” you start.
Mike gives a low, “Hm?” as he holds the dishes under hot water, finally glancing over when you gently nudge him in the side.
“Thanks for…” You take a deep breath, pinned by light green eyes, then try again. “Thanks for bringing me here.” He blinks but doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “It’s really nice. And, I’ve bonded or whatever with Nana.”
“But, you miss the park,” he says.
You shrug. “I mean, yeah. That park was my life, but… Probably dying in it was not one of my brighter ideas.”
He snorts, shuts off the water, then turns to you. Craning your neck, you take in his face—really take it in—the few strands of hair that hang freely past his jawline, the way his beard, no longer stubble but not exactly thick, forms around his mouth and connects with his sideburns, his strong, slightly curved nose, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He’s so painfully handsome, especially all shaggy and rugged, and it makes your heart beat too hard and too fast in your chest. 
Mike dries his hands on a dish towel, looking down at them when he tells you, “I’m glad we were able to get you out of there. It’s not something I’ll ever feel bad about. Even if you hate me for it.”
“I don’t hate you,” you scoff. “Never could. You’re my best friend, Mike.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smile, then think of Nanaba earlier that day and laugh quietly. 
“What?”
You wave a hand, shake your head. “Nothing, nothing, just… Nana has… Ideas, or something.”
There’s no need to elaborate. Mike understands what you’re trying to say. He inhales then breathes out it out in a chuckle as he posts up against the counter next to you. “Yeah, Gelgar does too.”
“Guess they don’t know us very well.”
A silence hangs between the two of you, one that would normally be comfortable but is now a little thick given the subject matter of your conversation.
You and Mike. Just earlier that day you had been thinking about how scared you are to ruin the friendship, but the more you imagine, the more you get lost in the fantasy…
“Or maybe…” You glance over to see Mike nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes fixed on the ground as he continues, “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”
He raises his head, gaze locking with yours, and you stop breathing. Because that stare is so hesitant, searching for something inside of you as if you have the answer, but you’re just as scared and confused as he is. Over four years of friendship—of good, meaningful friendship—is that worth risking just because you’re both curious? 
Or has it all been leading to this since the start? Since those first, short conversations, since the meals shared with one another, the affectionate gestures. Mike has always kept your head on straight, looked after you with even more care than he had with the park’s wildlife. 
You thought it’d all been one-sided pining, that he was just glad to have someone who understood him a little better than everyone else because you do. You understand his passion for the planet, you understand all his little fixations. You appreciate every eccentricity like he appreciates all your neuroses. 
“Maybe so…” 
Two very large hands are on your face, tilting upward, and your lungs begin to burn as Mike strokes just under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He has to lean down quite a bit, pauses just over your lips to let out a tiny huff of surprise, disbelief, awe maybe, then closes the rest of the miniscule distance. 
He is very warm and very firm against you—feels good, all the comfort of someone familiar but still so new. Your lips fit together perfectly, and at last, you’re able to breathe again, mouths moving in an experimental back and forth, feeling each other out until he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips. Gripping strong shoulders, you let the kiss deepen, opening your mouth for him, and Mike groans when he’s finally able to taste you. 
Hands fall from your face, moving down, down, down, brushing your ribs, settling at your hips, but his fingers are long enough to curl and dig into the meat of your ass, making you gasp and press harder against him.
Rolling his pelvis into yours, you very quickly find yourself pinned between Mike’s body and the counter. Your grasp travels to the back of his neck, pulling him closer—you just need him closer—and he must feel it too because he hoists you up and sets you on the countertop, making room for himself between your legs.
You feel too hot and too desperate, but it’s good, a release that’s needed to happen for far too long. All manner of geothermal metaphors swim through your mind, spurting geysers and boiling mudpots, and it makes you giggle against him, biting down on his bottom lip and smiling around the flesh as he lets out another one of those rumbling, satisfied noises. 
“What’re you laughin’ at?” Mike mumbles, and for some reason, it’s strange to hear his voice so close, so quiet, as you’re pressed together, breathing each other’s air. It’s intimate and different, but it’s right. 
“I’m just…” Another little laugh, “Thinking about the volcano.”
“When are you not thinking about the volcano?” You have a feeling he’s rolling his eyes, but he still grins and kisses you again.
“It’s all dirty things if that helps.”
Mike nods slowly, lips trailing from your mouth toward your neck. “Helps some.”
You tilt your head to give him better access and let out a little whine when you feel him bite down on a patch of skin just beneath the notch of your jaw, wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to rock into him because good god, you want him. 
Fingers tangling under his loosening bun, you tug him back to your mouth, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue between his teeth. He presses you closer with a hand on the small of your back, squeezing the air from your lungs so all you can breathe is him. 
“Mm, Mike, Mike,” you pant, barely breaking away only for him to chase after. You laugh, push his chest at the same time you gently tug at his hair, and he backs away just enough for you to get a good look at his half-lidded eyes and spit-slicked lips. 
Honestly, staring at him now, you can’t believe you made so long without ever making a pass at him. He’s gorgeous, built like a roman statue only larger, with sun-kissed skin and a startlingly light gaze that threatens to leave you boneless. 
“D’you wanna, maybe…” You swallow and blink up at him, too many questions suddenly invading your mind—is it too early for sex? Will he think you’re easy? What if it doesn’t actually work out? But, you bite the bullet anyway and finish, “Go to the bedroom?” 
Mike is silent for a few beats, leaving you to second guess yourself and brace for disappointment and embarrassment, but then he clicks his tongue and answers, “Uh, yeah. Yes, let’s do that,” in a voice a little higher than usual, and scoops you from the counter.
Every little house on the ranch is laid out the same, so it does not take him long to find your room. He sets you down at the threshold, and from there, it’s a flurry of discarded clothing and stumbling to the bed.
“How have we never done this before?” He huffs, crawling over you, leaving wet kisses in his wake. 
You’ve still got an arm covering your bare chest, but Mike doesn’t seem self-conscious in the slightest which comes as a surprise considering how reserved he typically is. Not that he has anything worth hiding—not the thin layer of hair that dances over his barrel chest, not the ridiculously cut abdominals or sharp ‘V’ of his hips, and definitely not the thick cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves. You would be intimidated if you didn’t know him as well as you do, but you’re sure that he’ll be gentle with you. Mike may be many things, but careless is not one of them.
He reaches your mouth, kisses you so deeply it makes you dizzy, and as he does, he very slowly pulls your arm from your chest, leaving you vulnerable—free for the taking. 
His touch is soft enough to tickle as he brushes over one of your nipples, making you exhale against him and arch your back like a silent plea for more. He traces around the bud, makes it pebble before carefully rolling it between two fingers.
Warmth spills into your gut, makes you squirm on the bed, and a moan makes its way from your throat as Mike gently tugs at the sensitive flesh. He lowers his head again, lavishing the same kind of attention on your other nipple with his mouth. He nibbles and licks and sucks, and you wriggle and whimper beneath him, one hand trailing down his body until you’re able to close your fingers around the head of his cock. 
Mike grunts, thrusts into your hand a couple times, enough to make precum drool from his tip, but before he can get too carried away, he says just above a whisper, “Let me get you ready,” then moves to lay between your spread legs.
Sliding his arms under your thighs, he locks them into place, and you release a shaky breath, feeling his eyes taking you in for several seconds before licking up your slit once then pushing deeper.
“Oh, fu—”
Both your hands shoot downward, one gripping the messy bun at the back of his head as you shudder at the sensation of his beard against your pussy. You’re wet in seconds, core pulsing as Mike uses his tongue to slowly open you up, then pulls back to flick over your clit. 
“Mike—Mike—”
He hums into you, shaking his head slowly back and forth, no doubt making a mess of his face and you. You don’t have anything to say, just feel your throat tightening like there are unspoken words that need to come out, but you can’t think straight, not when he’s doing what he’s doing, not when you feel the tips of his fingers reaching out to spread your lips. 
He is thorough bordering on methodical, makes sure you’re at the point of full body shakes before he gives you a break, and then, when your breathing returns to a normal rate, he starts all over again. There is a tightness in your gut that builds and builds then dissipates every time he stops, and he must know because when you whine in frustration, Mike just grins and kisses the inside of your thighs. 
The same pattern is repeated with his fingers, just one at first, massaging your walls perfectly, then a second that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He rubs over the swelling tissue inside of you, seems to enjoy every little gasp and noise you make, including the unsatisfied one you let out when he pulls his fingers from you. 
You can feel how damp the bedspread is underneath you, can see the evidence of your arousal on Mike’s face, and it makes you flush but doesn’t stop you from tugging him down for another messy kiss. 
“You ready?” He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel, and you nod furiously, bending your knees and planting your feet on the mattress so that you can lift your hips to his. 
Mike chuckles, reaches down between the two of you to take hold of his length and taps your clit with his cockhead a couple times—simultaneously the most infuriating and most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. Slowly, he lines himself up, just barely pushing forward, and when you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, Mike tells you to, “Breathe, baby, open up for me.”
He already sounds wrecked, like he’s fighting the urge to just sheathe himself entirely, but he waits, giving you one inch at a time with periods of adjustment in between. You always sort of figured he was big, but this burning stretch is something you hadn’t imagined even in your lewdest of fantasies. You’re incredibly full, feel him in your gut and throat and everywhere, but it isn’t bad; it’s just a lot. 
“Okay,” you stroke the forearm next to your head and nod. “Okay, you can start moving more.”
Mike’s brow creases. “You’re sure?”
“About as sure as I can be with a monster cock inside m-me—” Your laugh turns to a moan as Mike begins to pull out, eyes trained on your face for any sign of real discomfort, but your mouth just drops open, your own eyebrows raising at the feeling of his length hitting every one of your most sensitive spots. 
“Holy…”
He pushes back in quickly, still mindful of what your body can take, and when all you do is cry his name and scratch down his back, Mike starts up a steady rhythm that has you seeing god. 
That tightness is back, hotter than before, threatening to burn you up entirely as your cunt flutters and spasms and leaks around Mike’s length. 
The sound of a hoarse groan makes you open your eyes, and you follow Mike’s line of vision to where you’re connected, see his cock sliding in and out of you, dripping slick and ringed in white cream toward the base. The sight makes you clench around him, and Mike swears under his breath then leans forward to gather you in his arms. Your head lolls back as he lifts you, sitting on his knees for just a second before falling onto his back and letting you drop onto him. 
You choke, and Mike pants, but his hands are tight at your hips, moving you up and down his length like a sleeve. His pupils are blown wide when you look down at him, hair nearly entirely out of its tie, bottom row of teeth exposed as his jaw slides almost primally. 
He looks completely lost in you, possessed as he fucks up into your pussy rougher than before. You bounce in his lap, whimpering his name with every thrust, growing in volume when you feel a finger press against your clit. 
“You gonna come for me?” Mike grits out, rubbing a circle over the swollen bundle as his eyes flick from your chest to your face. 
You nod, ignoring the burning in your thighs in favor of the sensation between your hips. “Yeah, I—I—Fuck, Mike—”
“Come on, baby, come on—wanted to see this for years, come all over my cock…”
You snap, legs shaking as your climax crashes through you. Your cunt pulses around Mike, coating him in more of your juices and making him groan and fuck you through it. You whine at the stimulation, swollen walls so sensitive yet taking everything he has to give you.
Every thrust to your g-spot makes you gush a little more, come a little longer, until all you can do is fall onto his chest and let him use you as he needs to. You leave marks on his pecs, bites and scratches, and Mike grunts at every one of them until he sits up and flips you once again.
“Where do you want me?”
“Anywhere, I don’t care, I don’t care,” you babble.
Mike inhales sharply then lets out a long groan as he pulls out and shoots his load onto your stomach. It’s warm and thick, some pooling in your belly button as Mike makes a trail down to your clit where he smears the last few drops. You twitch at the contact, hole clenching around nothing now, but you can already feel soreness settling into your muscles. 
Mike gives you two little pecks on the mouth, then one last, longer kiss before rolling to lay on the mattress beside you, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
This silence doesn’t bother you. It gives you time to come back to your senses, to reflect, to remember everything that was said which leads you to ask, “You meant that—about wanting this for years?”
Mike turns his head and smiles so sincerely it almost brings tears to your eyes. 
“Well, yeah. Been in love with you pretty much since I started at the park.”
He says it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is, but it still makes your breath catch. 
“Seriously?” You turn to lay on your side, and Mike mimics the action, propping his head up with one hand while he lets the other settle on your waist. 
He lifts an eyebrow and questions, “Is that so hard to believe?” 
“No, I just… Thought it was one-sided on my end, I guess. Like, we were too good of friends.” Mike leans forward to gently headbutt you, and you snort to yourself, “Guess I was wrong.”
“We were both being stupid,” he mumbles. “But, we were also focused on other things, married to the job or whatever.”
Lifting your face makes him lift his, and you smile into another kiss, feeling happier and more balanced than you have in a very long time. 
Without much more discussion, you and Mike get up to rinse off, sharing more soft touches under the spray of the shower before crawling into bed together. Falling asleep feels like coming home.
You don’t even mind the smug grin on Nanaba’s face when she sees you and Mike leave your house together in the morning, nor the teasing jabs Gelgar throws your way over lunch. You don’t know if anything is capable of knocking you out of your perfect, peaceful little world on this perfect, peaceful little homestead.
Except maybe a supereruption, of course. 
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E - D A Y 
It happens right in the middle of the morning news. You and Mike are sipping on coffee, expecting the same report you’ve gotten every day— “Nothing yet, closely monitoring, blah blah”—but as the English news anchor tries to introduce the meteorologist, he stops, holds a hand to the speaker in his ear, then looks at the camera with wide yes. 
“I’m—I’m getting news that the Yellowstone supervolcano has just begun to erupt, we’re cutting to the US address at Washington D.C. now—”
And just like that, Levi’s face is suddenly on screen, picking him up mid-sentence. 
“... One vent open at the present time, but more will open shortly. Stay indoors, ration your food. This is what we’ve been preparing for.” He looks tired, and when you do the math, you understand why: seven AM in Norway is one AM in D.C., meaning Levi was probably woken up to make the announcement. 
As always, you can make out Erwin’s figure behind him, hands clasped tight and shaking, and it isn’t until Mike puts a hand on your shoulder that you realize you are trembling right along with your old boss.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he reassures you. “We’re gonna be okay here.”
You nod and let him pull you closer to him as both of you look back to the screen and listen to what your old colleagues have to say.
The news stays on for the rest of the day. At around ten, the second vent opens up. Then another. Then another. Levi keeps track, expression never betraying the fear he must be feeling, even when he delivers the message that a full ring around the caldera has opened up. 
“Obviously, we can’t get in close enough to look, but we estimate at least two thousand four hundred and fifty cubic kilometers of eruptible magma will pour from the volcano. That’s the size of the eruption from around two million years ago, but it could be worse with the current number of vents…”
The journalists on site, usually so ready to ask questions and challenge Levi, are silent today, and you imagine they’re staring with eyes the size of saucers, not quite believing what they’re hearing because it’s happening. It’s finally happening. 
You eat a quiet, solemn lunch at Nanaba and Gelgar’s, no one knowing what to say. You feel nauseous, stunned, not unlike losing a loved one. You’re able to forget the absolute destruction taking place in the states for a few minutes at a time, but it always comes back to you, punching you in the gut with the same, brute force every time.
The park. The lab. The forests. The towns. Cities, states, homes, lives, all wiped off the map. 
Erwin takes Levi’s place as public speaker close to five, probably to let the other man get some sleep, and reports that the portable seismogram, still linked to the remaining seismographs located around the park, show that there are near continuous earthquakes taking place, “Which could either help should enough earth shift to block the magma chamber, or make things worse by disrupting it further.”
“E is not very good at keeping people’s hopes up,” you mutter, and Mike chuckles.
“Yeah, I see why he makes Levi do all the talking now.”
You both receive texts from the rest of the team, Levi’s coming at an appropriate time but the others reaching you at odd hours of the night when you’re nestled in Mike’s arms.
Neither of you sleep as reality sets in the rest of the way. That was it. The beginning of the end of everything you know. Everything is about to change.
You sniff, try to be as quiet as possible as the tears you’ve been holding back all day finally begin to fall, but Mike knows, feels your body stiffen as you curl into yourself. 
He hugs you close to him but doesn’t say anything, just rests his cheek against yours and holds your hand. 
There’s nothing anyone can say to make this better, no amount of optimism or determination that will make this any easier. Your home is covered in miles of pyroclastic flow, and as it hasn’t stopped yet, you know this is just the start. Soon, anything left alive will be suffocated by the tephra, people, animals, and vegetation alike. Though you won’t die where you are, everyone at the ranch will be feeling the effects soon enough.
Your mother calls from France where her and your dad decided to “vacation” for the next several years. She’s worked up about not being able to get through to you for almost an entire day, and even as you reassure her that you’re mostly fine, she hears the way your voice cracks and offers to fly to Norway.
“Mom, the airports are shut down by now,” you sigh. “We already talked about this. We can’t see each other for a while, but we’ll FaceTime until we can’t anymore.” Until the cell towers are knocked out, you don’t say.
“I just know my baby girl is hurting right now. I know how much you loved—”
“I know,” you cut her off, scared that hearing it from her mouth will just make you lose it again. “I know, but I’m okay here with Mike and everyone else.”
“You’re sure?” She sniffles, sounding a lot like you. “Cause your father and I will find a way to get to you if you need us.”
“I’m sure, Mom,” you tell her with a sad smile she can’t see. “Get some rest, okay?”
You share many calls like that, many ill-timed text messages until the eruption finally comes to an end six days later. The damage it’s done is incalculable—the entirety of the United states now covered in a cloud of ash that blocks out the sun. 
It doesn’t reach you for a few days, but every time you go outside, Mike sniffs the air and mumbles something like, “Smells like sulfur,” or “It’s getting closer”, but after another week, the entire globe is covered. 
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1  M O N T H  A F T E R
Everything is an estimation. Everyone knows that a massive amount of magma erupted, but they don’t know how much. Everyone knows that a large number of people have died, but they don’t know how many. There are too many mysteries, and it’s nowhere near safe enough to send search crews out. 
Despite all the warnings, people are still trying to go outside—to see the ash, to review the damage, but even with cloth or medical grade masks, they’re breathing in the dangerous particles floating in the air, tiny minerals that turn to a cement-like substance in their lungs, and because of that, the death count is only rising. 
News reports cut in and out, as do phone calls. Some texts never get sent or received, so all you truly have is your little home and Mike. 
And, you cry, and you mourn, and you miss your friends and family—fuck, you don’t even know how you’ll survive so long without them—but you also revel in the fact that you’re safe. Not everyone can say that. The fact that you had almost willingly stayed in the most dangerous zone of the explosion is laughable now. There’s no way you and Erwin would have survived that, something he agrees with you on when you share a short phone call with him just to check how he and Levi are doing. 
They’ll be staying at the Homeland Security compound for the forseeable future, but he assures you they’re well-prepared to brave the years-long gray storm. 
Without any livestock to take care of, or mouths to feed other than yours and Mike’s, you find yourself with an abundance of free time. You still have power thanks to the solar panels and the couple of windmills set up around the ranch, but you don’t know how long that will last. 
You both read a lot, do puzzles together, fall into bed both out of desire and just because there’s not much better to do.
And, that part of your apocalyptic life is kind of great. Mike is great. He takes care of you both in and out of the bedroom, is gentle with you until you tell him not to be, and then he’s more than happy to succumb to your needs. He’d invested in a frankly absurd amount of condoms before the eruption so he wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out every time, but every once in a while you want him like you had him the first time—desperate and passionate and completely raw. 
That’s the feeling you’re experiencing tonight, staring at Mike from your place on the couch rather than at the book in your hands.
You see him smile before he actually looks at you, but when he does, he has a glint in his eyes you’ve gotten very familiar with over the last month. 
“Need something, baby?”
You bite your lip to keep from grinning too bashfully and glance back down at the open pages on your lap. “Nuh uh.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm,” you nod. 
“Really?” Mike puts down the wildlife magazine he’s perusing and leans closer to you. “’Cause it looks like you might want something.”
You cross your legs, flip a page you haven’t even read, and shake your head. 
It’s a dumb game you’ve both started to play, who can hold out the longest. Of course, the longest record is one you both hold—four years and some odd months—but other than that, you usually make it two or three days at most.
But it’s hard with him walking around looking like he does, and for someone so quiet, Mike is mischievous and handsy, knowing just how to rile you up only to walk away and leave you to whatever you were doing before. He whispers in your ear, he grabs your ass, sometimes he’ll just stand right behind you in the kitchen and inhale, trace his nose up your neck so that you shiver and break out in goosebumps, then mumble a shameless, “You smell nice.”
He’s troublingly good at driving you crazy, and you realize this is why it took you so long to actually get together. You can’t imagine being this wound up and wanton in the lab with everyone there to see. 
“You know,” Mike speaks again. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as he leans back against the cushions and nonchalantly kicks an ankle over his thigh. “A lot of people are dying. Like, thousands. Millions.”
Frowning, you nod. “Uh, yeah. Worldwide disaster taking place.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame,” he adds. His lips twitch upward for a second before he purses them, waiting for another couple seconds then stating, “Should probably start thinking about… Efforts to repopulate.”
Eyes widening, you tilt your head to the side in disbelief, a short, incredulous laugh bubbling from your throat.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Mike Zacharias!” 
Reaching behind you, you grab a throw pillow and launch it at him. Mike shields himself easily, choking and chuckling as he tries to defend himself, “I’m just—saying! It’s something to keep in mind!”
“Trying to guilt me into sex—” You smack his forearms with the pillow again, “As if I’m not already easy for you—" smack, smack, “—by bringing up all the people dying out there. What is the matter with you?”
He gets a hold of the pillow and rips it from your hands then hugs it to his chest and stares at you with that uncharacteristically devious look. “Is it working?”
You scoff at him, gently kick at his thigh in one last act of defiance before responding, “I mean, kinda.”
And, that’s all he needs to hear before he’s throwing himself at you, pinning you to the couch even as you giggle and squirm, ridding you of the comfortable clothes you have on so that he can kiss and lick every part of you he can reach. He acts like he’s hungry for you, and you have to use all your strength to shove him off of you just so that you can work his pants off and return the favor. 
Mike is all grunts and curses as you work him over with your tongue, a hand on the back of your head heavy but not pressuring. He trembles as you take him deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat and sliding just a little further. 
It always hurts your jaw, leaves it sore for a full twenty-four hours at least, but the way his jaw drops and his hands ball into fists make it worth it. 
You use one hand to stroke what your mouth can’t reach, the other settling between your own thighs to get you to where you need to be, and only when Mike is panting and you’re dripping slick into your curled palm do you pull off of him.
He helps you into his lap, lets you take your time sliding down his length, because even after as much practice as you’ve had, it hasn’t exactly gotten easier. He’s still massive, and you still have to will yourself to relax around him, but once your muscles have loosened enough, you begin to rock your hips. 
Mike lets you use him like that for a few minutes, knows he’s at the perfect angle to rub over your g-spot, so he just watches and leans forward to place teasing kisses around your open mouth. 
“Feel good, baby?” His voice drips like honey as he grips onto you to aid in your movement. 
Nodding, you dig your nails into his shoulders, then shift to start moving up and down his length. Mike takes it as his cue to take over completely, strong enough to lift and drop you as he pleases, and you both fall into a frenzy of motion, desperate to get off, to get each other off, to share that euphoria. 
“Do you actually want to?” You ask in a daze.
Mike cracks his eyes open to ask, “What?” and slows down enough to give you enough breathing room to speak. “Do I wanna what?”
Making lazy air quotes with your fingers, you mimic his deep voice, “Repopulate,” then elaborate, “Have kids. Do you want that?” 
Everything stops. Your hips still, as do Mike’s, and he stares at you, the lusty haze of his gaze clearing as he processes what you’re asking. 
Feeling completely exposed, you try to rationalize, “I know, I know, we’ve only been doing this for, like, a month, and it’s kind of a terrible time to actually bring new life into the world, but if I’m gonna do it with anyone—”
Mike fists both hands in the hair at the back of your head, pulls you to him to smash your lips together. When he starts bouncing you again, your muffled moan is still loud in the small living room, and Mike’s voice comes out somewhere between desperate and destroyed when he tells you, “Yeah, I want kids. Want you to have my kids.”
“Okay,” you breathe, matching his rhythm, then again, “Okay.”
A switch seems to flip in Mike’s head. You watch and experience him devolve into someone—something—primal. He fucks you like he never has before, long hair hanging in his face, lip caught between his teeth as he groans around it, pistoning into you quick and rough.
“You want it?” He growls, pausing to suck a mark at the swell of your breast. “You want me to come in this pussy?”
Your heart stutters, jaw dropping slightly because Mike isn’t a vulgar man, never has been, but now, the way he’s looking up at you with wild eyes, you know all he needs is the right push, and he’ll lose it completely. 
“Yeah, fuck, want you to fill me up, please,” you whine.
Your world tilts as he tosses you long ways on the couch, sliding back into you with ease and demanding, “Touch yourself.”
You grin slyly, “What, don’t have the focus?”
“Not really,” he admits, flicking sweaty hair from his eyes. 
Two of your fingers find your clit, massaging it the way you always do when you’re desperate for an orgasm. It makes you clamp tighter around Mike, and you tell him again—beg for him— “Please, baby, want you so bad.”
He comes quicker than usual, shooting line after line deep inside of you until it starts dripping out around his cock. 
He can’t stay inside you for long, unable to take the way you keep clenching and twitching from your own ministrations, so Mike pulls out and shimmies down your body so that his face is just above your cunt. At first, he just stares (like always), admiring your swollen folds and how messy you are, but soon he pushes a finger into you, attaching his mouth to your clit shortly after.
It doesn’t take you long. The thought of him fingerfucking his cum further into you paired with the actual sensation of it sends you over the edge within a few minutes, and the two of you are left sweaty and panting, too drunk off each other to really think about the gravity of what you’ve just done but enjoying it all the same. 
The feeling eventually returns to your legs, some of the fog in your brain dissipating as you run your hand through Mike’s hair, and when you find that you can, you voice, “Can we even handle a kid? Or like… Can a kid handle the world as it is?”
“Kids are weirdly resilient,” Mike speaks, face pressed against your stomach so that you can feel the vibrations. “And, maybe there’ll eventually be a race of super babies or something—have enhanced lungs to deal with ash. Darkvision and shit.”
You snort and shake your head. “Dummy.”
He retaliates by blowing a raspberry just above your belly-button, grins lopsidedly when you squeal. 
“But really, our kids’ll be fine. Volcanologist for a mom and an Eagle Scout for a dad? Doesn’t get much better than that.”
“Oh my god, you were actually in Boy Scouts? Does Levi know?”
Mike makes a little ‘pft’ sound and shoots you an unimpressed look. “Of course not. Like, I’d ever let that tiny, tiny man be right about anything.”
Your laugh is so deep and genuine, it makes your whole body shake. Mike raises his head to keep it from bouncing so much, but you can feel him staring for the duration of your giggle fit. Even through squinted, teary eyes, you can see his gaze is full of adoration, and you figure having two parents who love each other as much as the two of you do will at least make the hard life ahead of you a little easier for a child. 
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4  Y E A R S  A F T E R
Heavy snow falls outside, adding to the thick layers on the ground and clouding the window you’re staring out of. The carrier is nicely heated, ensuring you and its other two occupants stay toasty as you keep eye out for incoming headlights. 
“Think that’s them,” Mike says, and you swivel to look out his driver’s side window to see two dull beams of light growing brighter and brighter. 
“Don’t know who else it would be,” you joke. “No one else is dumb enough to come back to this place.”
The only sign of your husband raising his eyebrows is the way his hat shifts slightly. “You’re right about that.”
Cinching fur-lined hoods tighter, you both slide out of the tram, boots crunching on ice and snow when you land on the ground. Mike circles to your side, opens the back door, then unbuckles and collects what looks to be a bundle of jackets in his arms. Two light eyes peer out between a beanie and a face mask, gloved hands reaching out and grabbing for you. 
“You want Mama?” Mike coos before passing your son to you.
You settle him on your hip, rub his shielded nose with yours, hoping your body heat will help keep him warm out here.
It’s been winter for… Years, now, the ash from the eruption having behaved exactly as you thought it would, blocking out the sun, and sending the planet hurtling into another ice age. It was something not everyone was prepared for—the intense cold, the food and water shortage, the isolation, but you were lucky. You had everything you needed.
The other snow vehicle stops a ways off, lights left on as two figures jump out, recognizable even when completely covered up. One is nearly as tall as Mike, the other considerably smaller even up close. 
Pulling his mask down, Erwin shows a brilliant smile as he stops in front of you and Mike, and Levi immediately protests— “Oi, cover your mouth, old man! You need it for more than just talking shit.”
Mike laughs, but still reprimands the other man with a pointed, “Levi,” and a nod toward the little boy you’re holding. 
“Fuck—I mean…” Levi takes in a deep breath then apologizes over the whistling wind and falling snow, “Sorry, Huck.”
Bouncing him on your hip, you peer at your son and prompt, “Huckleberry, you remember Levi and Erwin from the computer?” 
Though your team has seen him many times on Zoom and FaceTime, this is first time Huck is meeting any of them in the flesh.
Your son looks between them for a while, quiet as he sizes up both of the men, then he reaches out for Levi the same way he had for you just moments before. Levi makes a dissatisfied noise but still takes him from you, and once Huck is passed off, you shuffle to Erwin and wrap your arms around him, breathing into his chest and warming your face. 
Your boss squeezes you tightly, mutters a low, “I know, I missed you too.”
It isn’t enough to drown out Levi’s sing-song baby voice, and both you and Erwin glance over to find him with his forehead pressed to Huck’s as he teases, “Can’t believe your parents named you after a volcanic eruption. That was pretty dumb, right?”
Mike glides over, places one hand on Huck’s head and the other on Levi’s, then sighs. “Please don’t criticize my wife’s terrible taste in nam—”
“Hey! You agreed to it,” you shout, taking the little boy back from Levi and glaring at both the smiling men. “Better shut up before you give him a complex. He can understand things, you know. He’s three.”
“Huckleberry Pine Zacharias,” Levi scoffs. “I cannot stand you guys.”
“I think it’s a great name,” Erwin interjects, lightly tapping Huck’s nose under his mask. 
“Well, you have shit taste, too.”
“Obviously, if I married a little gremlin like you,” Erwin drawls easily, leaning into the punch that Levi throws into his arm.
“Anyway, we’re here for a reason, right? Other than freezing our asses off?”
“Yeah,” Mike nods, kicking at the snow on the ground like it’ll make a difference. 
All of you know that buried beneath all the white is dried pyroclast, but under that… 
Is what remains of Yellowstone.
“How do we even go about rebuilding?” Mike is the first to ask.
Erwin stares at his own feet, face scrunched up in thought for a while before looking back up and stating, “From the bottom. Everything starts with a good foundation.”
Levi just scoffs, but you and Mike lock eyes and share a hidden grin. 
You take Huck back from Levi, leaning in for a side hug as you do, then suggest to everyone, “Well, then, now that we’ve seen a little of what we’re working with, we should head back to the shelter and start making a plan.”
“Yeah,” Levi agrees. “Gotta start getting ready for the next eruption due in seven hundred thousand years, right?”
“Right.”
After splitting back up into the two separate carriers, Mike follows closely behind the other in order to make it to their newly built bunker without getting lost. It’s perpetually dark from the never ending snow and cloud coverage, hazardous even with the vehicle’s tracks, but you can’t find it in yourself to be scared. Not now, not when life finally feels to be returning to something close to normal. 
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amethystpath-writes · 3 years
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Monsters and Legends
Don’t worry, it’s fluff :)
(NOT A PR0MPT)
Villain and hero need to stop a bigger villain by somehow acting as a couple, only for them to share a single room and a single bed (im grinning so hard rn) I giggled when I read this request:
******
The phone rang once, twice, three times.
“Why are you calling me?” Hero’s voice was a groan, one annoyed and filled with malice- or was it anxiousness?
Villain understood he was probably the last person Hero would want to hear from. Why would the bad guy of the city be calling her anyways, and how’d he find her number? Those were questions which Hero could ask later. For now- “I need your help,” Villain pleaded right away.
“You need my help?” Hero laughed brittlely on the other end of the line. That’s how Villain heard it, at least. “What makes you think I would ever help y-”
“Supervillain.”
The line went silent as the horror of such a simple name settled in. It wouldn’t matter to Hero how Supervillain’s name still existed- why it was still being muttered, unforgotten. All that meant was that Supervillain was still prevalent, which further meant something needed to be done.
“Is he still alive?”
Well, I suppose that’s a question I can answer for now. “Yes, that’s why I need you. I can’t vanquish him on my own, Hero.”
Yeah? What was Hero supposed to do about it? She wasn’t capable of fighting Supervillain, even if she fought him alongside Villain. The two of them together were still no match for such a beast, a mistake made by nature. Supervillain wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for his ill intentions.
“We beat him before, Hero,” Villain said after another long silence. “We can do it again.”
Hero said, “If we beat him before, then why is he back?” This wasn’t the first time Hero felt hopeless. Even before Supervillain, she had days where she was convinced Villain was unbeatable. She got past that part of her depression, obviously, but it didn’t mean that anxiety didn’t exist elsewhere- such as when it came to Supervillain. “Villain, I quit this business after the first round. I can’t…I can’t do it again.”
“I know.” Villain nodded, even knowing Hero wouldn’t see it on the phone pressed against her ear. “I know, and I get it.”
“If you did, you wouldn’t have called.”
Villain sighed. Maybe she was right, but… “You’re the only one I know who can pull this off.”
“Pull what off, Villain? What plan have you made up that you think might actually be enough? We killed Supervillain. We killed him, and yet you’re telling me that he’s alive? We can’t beat him.”
How could Villain say this? How did he portray this compliment without it sounding like an insult? “Where you lack in strength, you lead in intelligence. You- you’re able to think things out in a moment, whereas it takes me ages. You are so much more capable than you think you are and, believe it or not, I have always admired you.”
Right. Hero wasn’t so certain Villain was telling the truth. Sure, she was smart, and she could even admit that, but…intelligence couldn’t defeat an undead man. Even if it did, what made Villain say something kind to her? He would never spare a compliment to someone as poor as Hero; he wouldn’t spare an insult either. And anyways, who would admire an anxious mess? Not a villain, not by any means, right?
“Why do you need me? What has made you turn to a last resort?” Last resort, meaning asking anyone for help when Villain preferred to work alone.
Villain’s palms were sweating, his phone nearly sliding out of his hand the longer he remained on the line. “He wants my allegiance. Rejecting him would be a death sentence, and you know it. I don’t want to die. Not now. Not just yet. At the same time, I am not going to work for or with this guy.”
Hero was still failing to understand. “How do I fit into this,” she rephrased, “beyond you needing my intelligence?”
“Supervillain never knew you. He doesn’t know your face, your name, your priorities.”
“And?”
“And I told him I have a wife who insists on working with me.”
No. No, no, no. No. But she didn’t say this. “So, you are asking me to jeopardize my own life by appearing at your side as a fake wife who doesn’t know how to properly defend herself.”
“I could teach you, Hero. I’m trained. Strength means nothing if your opponent has technique. I can teach you,” Villain repeated, hands heating impossibly more. “Do this for me and I’ll- I’ll…”
Precisely. “There is nothing you can offer me, Villain.”
“If you don’t do this,” Villain returned, gripping his phone with white knuckles, and curled toes which dug into his carpeted floor, “everyone else will suffer for it. Yourself, included. I don’t know about you, but I think you’ve suffered enough.”
You don’t mean that, Hero wanted to say. You don’t mean anything nice that you’re saying. You’re just desperate. You know that I’ll do anything if it means someone will tell me they’re proud of me at the end of the day. She thought this of everyone- even herself, only she knew someone else was more likely to say they were proud of her than herself.
How did anyone ever call her a hero when she couldn’t even save her own mind from destroying itself?
Easy.
She was a villain to herself, and a hero to others.
“How do I know he’s alive? Am I supposed to take your word for it?”
Villain almost said yes, but he knew Hero would require proof. She didn’t trust herself, let alone anyone else in the world. “There is no evidence of him, but if you’d like to handcuff me every moment we are alone, then I suppose I will hand that to you as your security.”
Hero’s eyes widened. She didn’t have handcuffs; she was no officer, but for Villain to say that, and with such a serious tone…he wouldn’t say something so disadvantageous to him if he didn’t mean it- if it weren’t necessary to gain Hero’s assistance.
“What will it mean,” Hero asked, “to be your wife?”
***
“Supervillain paid for our room.”
Our room? Hero blinked hard before glancing around the hotel lobby. Well, it was beautiful, but Hero hardly had the brain capacity to think about that. “You said our room,” she commented, lips thin and an eyebrow quirked.
“We’re husband and wife.”
“We’re pretending to be husband and wife,” Hero said in a hush-hush tone, hand squeezing Villain’s for umph.
Even as she said it quietly, Villain scolded her lightly, “Lower your voice if you’re going to say things like that.” Villain began his trek to the elevator, arm extending behind him as Hero followed, hand still in his. As much as she hated this act, she sure did like to hold his hand, it seemed. Maybe it was her anxiety which told her any hand was a good hand, even if it were stained in life after life of blood and tears.
“I don’t want to share a room with you,” Hero whispered, so low that Villain wouldn’t have heard her fully had he not turned his ear towards her as they walked down the hall of the seventh floor. “How will I know you won’t take advantage of me?”
Right. No handcuffs. “You think I’d try to kill you after I called you and begged for your help?”
“It could be a trap,” Hero said, tugging her hand out of Villain’s, stopping in the middle of the hall.
“Maybe. But imagine if it isn’t a trap. Imagine you back out now, and the world goes extinct. What regrets would you have then? Surely, they wouldn’t be as bad as committing yourself to a trap, causing only yourself harm instead of billions.”
His tone wasn’t condescending, but it held such magnificence that Hero couldn’t help but cast her eyes downward and nod in silent guilt. Guilt because why couldn’t she have thought of such a scenario on her own? Was she selfish for being so afraid of Villain?
“You’re right.” Hero nodded. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”
Villain took her hand in his own again, softly, with fragile care. “You don’t need to apologize. Your nerves aren’t without reason. I’ll admit I’m not the most trustworthy man. I get it. Remember you are not jeopardizing yourself for me. You’re doing it for the world.”
***
The bed was comfortable- even with Villain laying by Hero’s side. Actually, Villain being by her side might have been what made it so comfortable. The blanket which the hotel provided was too warm, but the body heat which Villain radiated was just comfortable enough that Hero struggled to keep her distrusting eyes open.
“I don’t believe this,” Hero whispered in the dark of the room, expecting Villain to be fast asleep. Apparently, he slept as little as she did.
Villain rolled flat against the mattress before turning on his other side to face Hero, earning a light gasp of surprise from her. “About Supervillain?” he asked- suggesting that Supervillain was still alive.
After regaining a state of sanity, Hero mumbled that, yes, Supervillain being alive seemed unreal, but that wasn’t what she meant. She meant that she was laying next to a man who she both despised and was deathly frightened of, and yet she was comfortable with it- comfortable with his heat. It shouldn’t have meant much; it was only science at play, but it still irked her. Of course, Hero didn’t say any of this.
“It isn’t so bad sharing a bed, is it?” Villain yawned and did a little stretch with his arms, groaning as the skin and muscles of his torso stretched. “You have your side. I have mine.”
“Not so bad,” she agreed.
There was still a danger to it, Hero acknowledged. She was still side-by-side with a villain, still frightened by the thought of Villain silently reaching over the moment he heard Hero’s breathing slowing, pushing a knife against her sleeping body, and shiv her through without a thought. It was possible, and it was likely, wasn’t it?
“Have you thought about what you’ll do tomorrow?” Villain asked.
“Me?” Hero swallowed. “I…no, I haven’t thought about it.”
“That’s unlike you.”
Hero turned her head over her shoulder, finding Villain’s moonlight glinting eyes. “Asking someone for help is unlike you. What made you do it?”
“I couldn’t do it alone. I told you-”
“That’s not the truth. Well, it is, but it’s not the full truth.” Hero paused. “When have you ever admitted that you aren’t enough to accomplish a goal? You sought me out for my intelligence, but what else? You don’t ask for help, Villain. It’s not who you are.”
Silence followed, giving hero enough time to gather the courage it took to roll over, to face Villain with her whole body like he did with her before yawning.
“I’m scared,” Villain said, matter-of-factly. “I’m scared that when it is all over, then history will forget me for all the terrible things I’ve done.”
Confused, Hero asked, “Wasn’t the reason you chose the dark side because your crimes would be so extravagantly memorable?” This conversation wasn’t aiding Hero’s underlying fear of lying in bed with Villain. Still, she wanted answers.
“I realized I was wrong. If I don’t do something good for once, I’ll be remembered as a monster, and you see, I want to be remembered as a legend.” Villain drew in a deep breath, turning his head slightly away from Hero before exhaling. “There’s a difference between monsters and legends, I realized. Honour is legendary; Fear is monstrous. Having said that, there’s no fear in honour, so what’s the point in all those criminal activities except mindlessness and naivety? It’s not as fun or rewarding as I thought it’d be.”
“You stay awake and think at night like I do, don’t you?”
Villain nodded. Hero nodded.
Hero’s hand slid across the sheets until her fingertips touched Villain’s. Holding his hand was comforting when she considered they would be meeting Supervillain tomorrow- that Villain’s face would be the only familiar one, the only one she could trust even though she hardly even trusted it at all.
Hearing what Villain said now, in the deepest stage of the night…maybe he was worth trusting.
Maybe there was a good reason she was holding his hand.
And maybe there was a good reason she enjoyed the warmth that rolled off her body.
Maybe there was a reason beyond anxiousness and fear that made Hero’s heart beat a little faster than usual.
“Do you think we could both be legends?” Hero asked, to which Villain responded, with a tight squeeze of Hero’s hand:
“I do.”
It wasn’t the only time he would utter those words. Next time, Hero would be wearing a white gown, and Villain, a tux.
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cades-outsider · 3 years
Text
Eli/Hawk X Reader
Warnings: This may get you in your feels for a sec! Very slight smut warning!
Fighting Gravity
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You would be lying if you said it wasn't tough, it was the hardest thing you have done. It's not easy breaking up with someone but you felt as if you had no other choice.
You were with Eli before he turned into Hawk, before he started becoming someone who he despised the most, he became his worst enemy; a bully.
Just as if the day could get any worse you had to be at school, well it was lunch time so it wasn't so bad. I mean you were already halfway through school just two more classes, that you also share with Demetri.
"Listen to me Y/n" Demetri says catching your attention.
You playfully roll your eyes as you know that he's going to tell you a cheesy Star Wars joke, that will most likely be funny to only you and Demetri and we'll Eli if he were a 'nerd' again as he calls it.
"Which Star Wars character works at a restaurant?" He questions, already laughing at the joke he was thinking of.
"I don't know who?" You ask sarcastically.
"Darth Waiter" Demetri says, now fully laughing at his own joke.
He laughs at his own joke caused to you to laugh, plus it was a cheesy move. The laughing dies down as you and Demetri stop, in the middle of the hallway. Eyes subconsciously connecting with each other's, you both feel yourselves being pulled towards one another.
"What the h*ll do you think you're doing nerd?!" You hear someone yell causing both you and Demetri to pull away, have being caught.
"I-uh well-" Demetri stutters before you speak up, Demetri sighs in relief.
"Why do you care? We aren't together anymore" You exclaim, as Hawk walks closer to you both.
"Yeah I wonder why, it's not like I wanted you anyways" He smirks.
You knew what was happening, you knew that he was just putting on a facade to the students that don't give a crap about him.
"Oh yeah? And how's that working out for you" You smirk.
"Quite well actually, I don't have to see your ugly reflection everyday" Hawk snarls.
"Yeah well neither do I" You scoff, almost saying something bad but you bite back your lip. Knowing that's Eli's insecure spot, that you shouldn't bring up.
  You bite back the urge to say something you'd regret in the long run "whatever I'm not even in the mood" you roll your eyes and walk away.
"Come on Demetri" You demand as he follows behind.
  "Uh- what was that?" He asks referring to the almost kiss.
  "I- I don't know" You admit honestly.
  He decides to not ask any more questions even though it kept running around his mind. After lunch, the day went by pretty fast you were driving on the way home when you got a call. It was Demetri.
Both Demetri and Moon decided to get your mind off of things, so she threw you a as she called it a 'get over hawk' party. Which was what Demetri called to tell you about of course.
"Come on Y/n! This will help you in-lighten your inner spiritual self!" Moon says jumping up and down, clapping excitedly.
"Fine fine fine...." you mumble, knowing you couldn't say no to Moon.
"Yay!" She exclaims happily.
"Come on I have the perfect dress for you!" She says pulling you into her closet full of dresses and unique outfits.
"Here! Take this!" Moon pushes the dress into your chest, excited.
  You don't even get time to check out the dress before Moon rushes you into her second closet, "rude..." you mumble playfully.
  You slip on the dress, with no problems at all. It fit ever curve just perfectly. "Wow.." you gape as you spin around looking at yourself in the mirror.
  The dress included a slit in the middle from your thigh and it was a sparkling blue shade, with spaghetti straps.
  Not even a second later Moon barges into the closet causing you to jump, she squeals cheerfully "o-m-g you look so sexy!" She says smirking, proud of herself.
"Wait, why am I wearing a dress when I'm just going to swim anyways?" You question.
"Oh you silly Y/n! We're showing Hawk what he's missing!" Moon says smiling as she grabs some of her green juice that she made.
"Okay.." You nod your head, trailing off.
"Plus I bought me a matching colored dress!" She says holding up the dress.
You gasp "it's beautiful Moon! You'll look gorgeous! As always" You gush.
Moon smiles slightly at the compliment "well what are you waiting for! Let me do your hair" She says ushering you in the chair.
After a couple hours Moon had finished your makeup and hair turning you around to see your beautiful reflection in the mirror.
"Wow.." you gape at the magic Moon had put into.
  "I know right!" Moon agrees.
  "Oo- I'm going to slip on my dress!" She exclaims happily as she rushes into her bathroom.
  An hour went by and people were finally here, kids eating pizza in the corner, some drinking beer, and some already throwing up in the lawn.... 'pfttt lightweights' you giggle to yourself.
  In the middle of your direction you seen Hawk and a group of his friends sitting around him, a red solo cup in his hands as his fierce eyes scan over the partying people. Only to be met with your beautiful shinning eyes.
  His demeanor changes almost immediately, he was tired of putting up this act yeah. But he did not want to go back to the kid with the weird lip, so throwing this act away was a no at least for now.
  His eyes sparkle with admiration as he scans your beautiful features, and your sparkling blue dress. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the slit in your dress which revealed your right thigh.
  Just then Demetri walks over to you with a wave "hey Y/n, would you like to I don't know per say go for a swim?" He asks, beating around the bush.
  Sparing a side glance at Hawk you notice his jaw clench as he squeezes his red solo cup causing whatever liquor that was held inside to drip down his hands and onto the floor.
  Deciding what harm could do you nod "I'd love too" you reply as he leads you both to the pool outside, few people in the pool which confused you considering it seems like people always head for the pool first at party's.
  Unzipping the side of your dress you reveal your white bikini that Moon had bought for you three days prior as a best friend-adversary gift along with a matching gold necklace.
  You of course returned the gesture as this was your best friend were talking about, you fold the dress and put it under your towel so it wouldn't get wet.
  Demetri had already started getting in the pool, sitting down as you got in slowly enjoying the cold water against your warm skin.
  "You know Y/n, you look not the term I would use... but you look mighty fine" Demetri compliments causing you to giggle but roll your eyes playfully.
  That is until you hear a cup hit the concrete ground next to you, "you just can't stay away from what's mine can you Demetri" Hawk interrupts.
  You look up at him in shock, obviously it was just a compliment so why is he getting all worked up. I mean when people compliment Hawk you certainly try to start anything with them.
  "Hawk, cool it" You say softly, not wanting to come off as rude.
  "Oh so I'm supposed to 'cool it' while I watch Demetri flirt with you? H*ll no." He states bluntly as he starts walking closer to Demetri.
  Deciding you didn't want to see one of your friends get beat today, you pull yourself out of the pool. Gently you grab hawk by his forearm, grab your towel and push him into the pool shed full of floats.
  Roughly you slam his back against the wall causing a couple floats to fall off the wall "we need to talk" You state.
  Hawk's breathing picks up at how close you both are, "no talking" he says sliding his hands onto your cheek, rubbing his thumb in circles against your skin.
  "Just kissing..." He mumbles before placing his lips upon yours, pulling your body closer into his causing him to get wet since you just got out of the pool.
  You pull away leaving Eli with a hurt look as you push onto his chest pressing him against the wall firmer "we talk and sort things out then I give you what you want." You state firmly.
  Slowly Hawk nods, giving you puppy eyes "Look Eli, I love you I really do. But I don't like watching you become someone who you used to hate, I don't want you to inflict pain mentally... and physically like others did to you" You exclaim softly, rubbing his cheek soothingly.
  His jaw clenches before he soon relaxes "i understand Y/n, and I'm sorry I just didn't want to be the weird kid with the lip anymore..." He mumbles, slowly tearing up.
  "Eli... baby, you were never the kid with the weird lip. I love you for you, not strength, muscles, or popularity but you. I loved your corny jokes-" You rest your arms around his neck "-I loved your shyness, I loved your battle scar baby... it's what makes you my Eli" You finish as a small tear falls down Eli's eye.
  "Don't get me wrong, I love your confidence now and I love your hair but I didn't want you to get to wrapped up in it" You mumble softly.
  "I'm sorry Y/n, I really am" Eli mumbles, digging his head into your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.
  "Don't be Eli, baby I understand what happened and I know why it happened but just know I always loved and always will love the real you" You say smiling as you lift his head up with your thumb.
  You run your finger over the scar on his lip before placing a gentle, loving kiss upon the scar "this is beautiful Eli, don't be afraid to love who you are" You praise as Eli feels his heart warm up with love.
  Eli reaches down and picks you up by your thighs before placing you on the little couch that laid in the room, he places his smooth lips on top of yours letting you feel his vulnerable state.
  He tugs in the middle of your bikini asking for permission if he cold take it off but before you could respond someone busts into the shed causing you both to jump.
  It was some horny couple making out and slamming each other against the walls removing clothing not even paying attention or noticing you two.
  "Seriously?! Get out!" Eli yells, startling the couple causing them to rush out half naked.
  You giggle as you rest on your elbows, sitting yourself up a little as Eli sits on his knees halfway straddling your thighs.
  "You think this is funny huh?" He teases has he bends down leaving kisses on your neck.
  "Yeah, I love the rush of being caught" You exclaim, catching Eli off guard.
  "Oh really? We'll see about that"
_______________________________________________
Thank you @peachymelon69 for requesting! I hope you enjoyed!
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toherlover · 3 years
Text
more fun here
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pairing: din djarin x reader (no use of y/n)
Summary: after spending the last 3 weeks on a bounty, din decides to give you the day off, but personal space was the last thing you wanted after spending so much time alone. 
wordcount: 2.6k
warnings/tags: alcohol, drinking, language? maybe? i dont remember, lots of fluff, mutual pining, mostly from din’s pov 
A/N: hi so i have never actually posted a fic before oop. i have them i just ~dont share~ so this is something new to try for now! 
Mando jumped when the hatch fell open, shaken out of light sleep. His hand immediately fell to the blaster tucked into the holster but froze when he saw her trudging up the ramp. She was holding some sort of drink in one hand, her other arm held out to the side as if she was walking on a balance beam. The girl was muttering under her breath, obviously concentrating way too hard on not spilling whatever liquid was frothing in the glass. 
When she got to the hull of the Razor Crest she let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Hey Mando!” the girl yelled a little too loud, “I’m home!!”
The Mandalorian said nothing. She leaned against the frame and held the glass out to him, panting and starting to slide to the floor.
“I- I got one for-for you!”
He had given her the day to be off on her own, considering how safe the new system they’d landed in was known to be. Maker, she’d spent the last three weeks couped up in the crest by herself. Cabin fever had never really gotten to him, but when he came back this time, bounty flung over his shoulder, it was obvious that it had gotten to her. 
He’d felt bad telling her to stay on the ship and only run to the shop when necessary, especially when she butted back in argument. The girl probably didn’t realize it was for her own good, a protective measure. She had rolled her eyes in annoyance, but when Mando didn’t falter in his stance through the fight she reluctantly agreed. He hadn’t meant to leave her alone this long, he truly thought it’d be just over a week, and there was a pang of guilt in his chest for leaving her here like this. 
In his absence, the girl had thoroughly redecorated the ship. All sorts of… things, crafts, maker-knows-whats, were sitting atop crates, hung on the walls, clearly made using whatever she’d found rummaging through the spare parts bin and in the singular shop connected to the docking bay.
There was a string of little flickering lights hanging across the hull, pieced together from old console controls. It looked like she had sewed together some old fabrics to create some sort of rug, too. 
The girl herself was asleep on the floor, surrounded by papers covered in writing and doodles. It was a mess- whatever she’d been writing was scattered and out of order. The kid was tucked under her arm, completely limp and snoring quietly. They looked like they’d passed out on the spot, mid-activity, on the Crest’s floor. She was wearing an odd combination of clothing he’d never seen before, had she made them herself? The child had a crown woven out of old wires sitting on his head, a matching one had clearly slipped out of her hair.
Mando silently thanked the stars not only for the fact that she was asleep when he got back, but that he had a layer of beskar to hide the smile he couldn’t keep from inching across his face. When he’d hired her a few months back to watch the kid and help copilot as needed, the girl had seemed so harsh. Her knuckles were scarred and she sneered when she called him out on his shit. Which she seemed to love to do. 
In the cockpit, they’d sit in silence for hours, something the Mandalorian usually valued with others, but he wished she’d say something. Anything. Occasionally he’d feel her eyes trained on his helmet, or he’d glance back at her to see her clearly thinking deeply about something, but it was never a shared thought. It was quiet. 
He’d never admit to it, but he was terrified that she was scared of him. Maker, she’d seen him come back out of breath and dragging a body behind him. She was always standing by when he was at his worst, catching her flinch out of the corner of his eye didn’t make it any better. 
But there were moments. Moments he was sure she hadn’t noticed him watching. Moments when she was soft. There were little things. Like how she always gripped the armrest a little tighter and squeezed her eyes shut right before they landed, or how she places a gentle kiss on the kid’s head every night before tucking him in. He doubted she was aware, but she sticks her tongue out just a little bit and fiddles with her necklace when she’s concentrating. Sometimes she leaves little reminders around the ship for them both; they’re always signed with a smiley face at the end. 
There were a few times he’d caught her humming to herself and dancing around on her toes. She was graceful- he wasn’t expecting that. For a fighter pilot with such a callous attitude, she was so delicate. So he stayed back, knowing she’d stop the moment she knew he was there. 
Or how she left a third woven crown hanging from his seat in the cockpit. No, she didn’t wear a helmet, but it was pretty clear that she hid behind her own layer of beskar, too.
But they had never shared a moment like this: the girl slumped in the door frame, holding a drink out to him with a straw stuck in it. The child toddled over to her.
“Hey little dude!” she put the drink on the floor and held her arms out to him. “Look, sorry I’m back just a little smidgen of a bit late,” she said, words slurring, bopping him lightly on the nose. “I sorta kinda,” the girl’s voice didn’t get any quieter as she tried to whisper, “forgot where we were parked.” She shook her head and held a finger to her lips, “Don’t tell Mando.”
The Mandalorian let out a sigh loud enough to be heard through the vocoder and her head whipped around to face him. “I’m-” she started to get up, “I’m sorry I’m a little bit,” she held on to the wall as she stumbled forward, “a little bit late.” With a huff she gave up and sat back down on the floor, but continued to scootch herself closer to him, only stopping a foot or so before his feet. 
Still, he was silent, and the color seemed to drain from her face. Under the cold stare of his visor, she tucked her head back like a child expecting to be scolded. After a few moments, she glanced nervously around the room, looking anywhere besides where she knew his eyes would be. She couldn’t tell the man in front of her was doing everything in his power to stifle a laugh as she struggled to sit up straight. 
“Hey, so you’re actually a reeaallly quiet person,” she said softly, fidgeting a bit, “and I don’t know if you know or realize it or not, or if it’s on purpose, b- but when you go all quiet like this I really don’t know- I mean I’m terrible at reading the room anyways- but I can’t tell if you’re mad and I just-”
He cut her off. “I’m not mad.” Her face lit up slightly. Honestly, he wished he was angry. He should have been angry. His ship was a mess. But when she sat in front of him like this, he found it hard to be even the slightest bit irritated. He’d asked her to be back before nightfall, and for once she didn’t ask why or argue back. 
“Oh.” She smiled softly then leaned all the way back so that her head skimmed the floor. She reached behind her, grabbing the blue drink and sliding it forward as she sat back up. “It was fun. Probably not your scene, I don’t really know, but the music was good, you would have liked that. You should have come.”
With a sigh, the Mandalorian rose to his feet and held a hand out to her, offering to help her up. She smiled again and let him pull her to her feet, immediately placing a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. His hand landed on her waist to keep her upright. “I don’t really do parties.”
She looked up at him. Somehow, even in her intoxicated state, she always managed to look him directly in the eye. “Yeah, I know. Sorta figured. To be really honest with you though, neither do I, I just wanted to do something a little bit different, yah know?” 
“I know.”
They stood there in silence for a minute, then she rested her head against his chest. He froze. She’d never shown an ounce of affection, let alone stand together like this. He knew she was drunk. He guessed the girl wouldn’t remember this in the morning. But still, he held her tightly and savored the moment. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but she leaned against him anyway. 
“But the credits I’d give to see you dance in this tin-man suit,” she knocked on his chest and giggled. 
“I don’t really dance.”
“Liar. You can so dance. No way you’re that quiet and sneaky and can’t.” Her nose scrunched up as she scoffed at him, poking at his chest plate. “Me, however, whew, you really don’t know what you missed, shiny. You’re holding the worst dancer on this side of the galaxy.”
His head cocked to the side and he paused, watching her poke fun at herself, thinking of all the times he’d caught her tiptoeing around with the child. All the times she would sing quietly and swing her hips while out and about. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “No I’ve seen you dance, you dance all the time.”
Her lips parted as a confused look fell across her face. He couldn’t fully read her expression, but it was clear a million thoughts were flooding her brain. He was instantly worried that he’d offended her. Not only had he invaded her privacy- he admitted it to her face. He worried she’d step away and the moment would end, that she’d go to bed and leave in the morning, taking her pay and her bag. But with one eyebrow raised and a soft smile playing across her face, she wrapped both arms around his neck. 
“So I guess you owe me one then, huh? I brought you back a drink and everything.”
-----
You picked up on his almost inaudible laugh even through the modulator. Sure, you’d had a few drinks. You had been a little past the point of tipsy as you neared the Crest, but you were coming to your senses now. Were you over-exaggerating your state of mind? Most indefinitely. You couldn’t help it, though. The last 3 weeks had been an absolute shit-show. 
You were fine until the end of the first week, then you started to get worried. The thought of him kept you up at night, so you told yourself that there was no way you could have possibly missed him. You only cared because this was your wellbeing now. I mean, before you got this position you spent every minute alone, too. This wasn’t any different. 
Except that it was. And you hated that it was. This was just supposed to be another job. Somehow this man in a metal suit had weaseled his way into a soft spot in your heart.
He’d been so patient. Sure, you knew how to fly a ship, and you’re not clueless when it comes to mechanics, but this ship was unlike anything you’d seen before. So he taught you. 
When he came back bloodied and bruised, he’d explain exactly what he needed you to do. In one instance he had gently guided your hand, slowly realizing he didn’t have to patch himself up anymore. Maybe he liked having you there. It was impossible to tell; maker, the few times you’d tried small talk it seemed to push him away even further. 
But you didn’t want him further away. 
You wanted him right here.
Figured that one out week two. 
Week three the kid decided you didn’t need sleep. He cried and whined until you hung up that makeshift strand of lights. Then he sat and stared up at them like they were the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. So you made more things to pass the time. And more. And more. 
You don’t even remember finally falling asleep, so waking up in the cot was a surprise. You slipped out of bed to figure out what was going on but stopped dead in your tracks when you heard him laugh.
The hatch to the cockpit was open, and from the low angle, you could just barely see the child sitting on the Mandalorian’s lap. 
“It looks cute on you, kid.” The baby giggled and reached out for his arms. The wire crown was sitting on his head again. “How does mine look?” 
The crown you barely remembered making for him during the third-week fever dream was clearly resting on his head, atop the helmet and all. The baby cooed.
When you landed he practically announced that the day was yours and you were free to go off and enjoy yourself. You thought about asking him to tag along but worried it’d be overstepping. Maker, the man had to have been just as, or even more, exhausted as you. Your pity didn’t run too deep, though. You knew it was selfish, but you hoped that maybe he’d want to be with you.
You tried your hardest to not seem disappointed when you turned to see him still in the hull as you strode down the gangway. You walked to clear your mind before popping into a cantina, which ended up being the center of life, and finding peace with the bottle. 
The buzz had almost completely worn off by now, and you were back. And he was back. And he was holding you like he couldn’t risk letting you go. 
-----
He looked down at her and let out a sigh. “Next time, sweet girl. We need to get you to bed before you’re out on the floor.”
Her face flushed pink at the sound of his words. Stars, at least he hoped that was why. He could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes asking, ‘sweet girl? When did you get so soft on me?’ 
She pushed up on her toes, flattening her body completely against his. Her arms were still around his neck, and he carefully brought his hands together behind her waist. Had he not been wearing the kriffing helmet he would have been able to feel her breath against his neck as she nestled herself impossibly closer. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.
He gave a curt nod, his body stiff and tense under her.
“I wanted to leave the second after it started,” Her voice dropped even lower and her eyes fluttered shut, “... figured it’d be more fun here with you.” 
His heart stilled as he realized her invisible beskar helmet had been lifted. He hoped it fell from her shoulders and rolled down the ramp, was lost in the night, maybe even stolen by scavengers, never to be seen between the two of them again. 
She could feel his grip on her back tighten as his head relaxed onto her shoulder.    
“Tomorrow night we’ll stay in,” his voice was just loud enough to pass through the modulator.  
A smile crept across her face, “I’ll hold you to it, Mando.”
“I’m a man of my word.”
“I know.”
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tsukkiseasalt · 3 years
Text
Eyes That Won’t Wonder
2
“What, what!?” You shriek.
Another low laugh erupts from him as he leans against the door, his large frame blocking any potential view of the inside.
“I believe that is a compliment.” He mumbles his lips curling up into a sly smile. 
“Y-yeah, it was.” You stammer, words barely making themselves out of you as your stomach begins to do cartwheels.  
“As much as I'd love to stay right here and chat, you’d probably find it to be much more comfortable inside.” He says, smile fully present now, and you take a moment to admire the sight-storing it in your mind. He moves enough for you to slip right past him and pause the moment your feet touch the dark hardwood floors. 
The aroma is the first thing that invades your senses. It smells of pine and a rich tobacco, with slight hints of something sweet- maybe vanilla, you can’t really tell. The home is just as beautiful on the inside as it appeared from the outside. The dark hardwood floors complimented the ivory walls and dark rust colored trim. The living room was sparsely decorated though, it had only one couch, a chestnut loveseat and a matching recliner. He obviously doesn’t get many visitors. 
“Your home is beautiful.” You say breathlessly, eyes roaming the space in awe. 
“Thank you.” He exclaims, a large hand grazing the small of your back as he slips behind you and towards the kitchen. His touch makes your knees go weak and you steady yourself by placing a shaky hand on the door.
“Would you like something to drink?” You hear him call from the kitchen.
“Ah, water please.” You answer, taking a few deep breaths before you saunter over to the counter placing your folder in front of you. He slides the glass in front of you and you nod as a thank you before you begin to sip.
“I don’t think I ever caught your name.” He says leaning back onto the fridge, arms folded over his massive chest.
“Oh, uh, my name is y/n y/ln.” You mumble your index finger rubbing the rim of the glass. 
“Lovely, it fits you.” He says, eyes catching your own. You can't help the blush that arises on your cheeks. 
“T-thank you.” You manage to stammer out, silently cursing yourself for getting so flustered so quickly. He was a patient not some guy at a bar, you needed to get a grip and you needed to get it fast. “Uhm, you’re a bit younger than most of the other patients i have worked for. Is there actually anything wrong with you?” You quiz, but the words come out a bit harsher than you intended. “Oh goodness, I did not mean that in a bad way at all sir- Mr. Wakatoshi, oh my goodness. I am so sorry.” You exhale letting your head fall into your hands. Your words are all becoming a jumbled mess and you can't help the shame that creeps up your throat. Great, now he probably thinks I'm some kind of asshole.
“No, it's okay. I understand what you were trying to say. Two years ago I had to get a disc in my back replaced and it took a lot out of me. Though I can still get around pretty well, there are still certain tasks that I need help with. I am also set to have another surgery on my knee two months from now, so I thought it would be better to have someone get accustomed to me and my habits beforehands.” He says voice monotone. Is he angry?
“Mr. Wakatoshi, I am so sorry if I came off as rude earlier- I didn’t mean to offend.” You say feeling guilty. 
He shakes his head. “You’re fine sweetheart, I’m actually quite flattered that you think that.” Before you have a chance to relish his words he starts again, “I’m going to go put some clothes on, but here. I made a list- well a schedule really- of how my day usually functions. You can look over it and if there is anything that seems to be a bit much for you let me know and we will make alterations to it.” He says walking out of the kitchen and returning with a piece of paper. “Here, I will return shortly.” He says handing you the paper. Your eyes skim the page as you read the text.
7:30am- Arrive & make coffee ( I prefer mine black)
7:45am- Read the newspaper
8:00am- Feed Randy & Lyle 
8:15am- Pour second cup of coffee & wash dishes
8:30-9:30am- 2nd Workout (If you could have a bowl of fruits waiting that would be lovely)
10:00am- Post shower stretch (Help isn’t required but appreciated)
10:30-12:00pm- Take Lyle to the park (You are more than welcomed to join us) 
12:30pm- Lunch / with Aone* (*Mon. & Thurs. only)
1:00pm- Stop at farmers market
1:30pm- Arrive home & check on Randy
1:35-4:00pm- Varies (You may leave at this time or you may stay for dinner.)
4:00-6:00pm- Prepare dinner
6:05- 6:45pm- Eat then wash dishes
All that is required of you is bolded, the italicized text is completely voluntary, though I would enjoy your company.
“Goodness.” You mumble, placing the paper down. “This is even less than I did with Washijō.” You thought you had it easy then just checking his oxygen, helping him up, and taking him wherever, but you were basically an in-home barista.
“I hope it isn't too much.” The voice startles you as he appears beside you now fully clothed- well not really. He had on a pair of dark sweatpants and a gray sleeveless shirt putting biceps on display for all to see.
“Uh, no, not at all sir. I was expecting much more actually.” You admit eyes darting between the paper and his arms. 
“Oh, well I'm sorry to disappoint you.” He says voice low as he bends down to tie his shoes. “I’m sure that there will be more for you to do after my knee surgery.”
“Yes, and I'm not disappointed sir, I'm honestly kind of relieved. I haven't worked with anyone in quite a while, so this is a good refresher to allow me to get back into the routine of things.” You say words falling from your lips before you realize it.
“Is that so?” He asks standing back up to his full height, face full of curiosity.
“Yes, my previous patient passed away and I took some time off. He and I were close, friends even, and the death really hit me hard even though I knew it was coming. It still hurts ya know.” You exclaim as feelings of sadness wash over you at the thought of your friend. 
You didn't know what you were expecting when you told him that, maybe an ‘i'm sorry for your loss’ or nothing at all but it is safe to say a hug was not one of those things. His body was warm and his chest was solid- it felt good. You wrapped your own arms around his waist and closed your eyes. 
“I hope that one day you and I could be friends as well.” He says quietly pulling away. 
You don't fight the smile that graces your face, “Yeah, I feel like we will.”
The words seem to liven him because a large smile spreads across his face again. “Well I’m gonna go lift now, feel free to look around. There's food in the fridge and snacks in the pantry. Make yourself at home.” He says walking to the back of his home.
“Oh, Mr. Wakatoshi!”
“Yes love?” He asks, turning back around, a smile still lingering on his lips.
“Who are Lyle and Randy?” You ask looking back down at the paper, partly to hide the blush that you are now sporting. “Are they your children?” 
“Yes, they are my children. I’ll introduce you when I return.” He laughs before turning back around and disappearing into a hallway.
You sigh as soon as he is out of eyesight dropping your head onto the cool marble countertop, raising your head just enough to read the time on the clock that sits unwavering by stairs. 8:37. You had just under an hour to get somewhat acquainted with the home you would now be in for ten hours a day for six days a week. You decide to begin with the kitchen, opening and closing drawers & cabinets identifying the contents within them, occasionally rubbing a light hand over them. Next is the living room. The wide open space is mostly vacant and you take a seat on the loveseat sinking back into the cushions. “Nice.” You mumble.  
Pushing yourself up you wonder to every room opening the door just enough for you to peek in and see what it is. You hesitate though when you get to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s his. You could sense it, nonetheless you slowly push the knob down and peek inside. It’s clean just like the rest of his home. You don't linger and decide its best to close the door & move onto the next. 
By 9:15  you’d looked throughout his entire home, and it was more beautiful than you could have imagined. The ceilings in the bathrooms were high and had beautiful artworks painted atop of them, they looked as though they belonged in a museum rather than someone's guest bathroom. The spare bedrooms were just as lovely. Each had a shelf that was littered with books and knick-knacks that looked foreign. All of this just fueled your curiosity- what did he do & how long did he do it?
You shrugged as you went back into the kitchen jumping when you saw his large frame in the fridge. He was shirtless, again, but this time his hair was wet and clung to his head. The small gray stripes were clear as day against his dark olive locks.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t think you’d be done yet.” You say awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.
“Yes, I finished early and decided to shower & grab a snack.” He says waving the bowl of strawberries.
“I was about to prepare one for you.” You said.
“Oh, thank you. You don't really have to do anything today, just get accustomed to things.” He says popping the small red fruit into his mouth. 
“Would you like me to stretch you out?” You ask, remembering the list. 
His eyes shoot up to yours as soon as the question escapes your lips and you realize how wrong it sounded and before you had a chance to correct yourself he spoke. “You stretch me out, I mean i’ll try anything once but i’d prefer the opposite..”
His words startled you to say the least, and almost instinctively the words flowed from your lips, “I’d like to see you try.” 
His eyes widened at your remark and at that you began to spew apologies. “Shit, fuck, DAMMIT. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, the stretching part I mean. Well I meant that, but not what I said afterwards. Ok, let me start over. What I meant to say is do you need help stretching considering you just got done working out. There, that's what I meant.” 
Your eyes are frantic as they lock with his. God, it's the first day and I'm already gonna lose my damn job. Just great. His lips are pressed in a straight line for a moment before he finally lets the edge of them glide up into a small smirk. 
“I’ve already stretched, but I suppose I could go a little deeper, maybe a little harder this time.” He says emphasizing the two words as he pops another strawberry between his lips smirk still evident.
“The stretches of course.?” You ask for clarification.
He hums and pops another strawberry between his lips setting the bowl down onto the counter stalking towards you, his large figure quickly engulfing your much smaller one almost instantly. “That’s not quite what I had in mind.” 
You can feel his warm breath on your lips as he leans down, “But if that is what you insist.” 
A loud bark bellowed throughout the kitchen causing you to jump. He smiled and wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “No need to fret, he was probably just getting anxious to meet you.”
“He?”
“Yes, my son, or at least one of them. Come on so I can introduce you.” He says guiding you down the hallway, to his room you assumed. You were correct, you realized as he pushed the door open revealing a large dog. 
“Don’t worry sweetheart he doesn’t bite. Daddy made him promise to be on his best behavior.” He whispers lowly into your ear. 
Fuck, this may be harder than I thought.
hiiiiii, this is the second chapter & you can just check the tag eyesthatwontwonder to read the first. anywaysssss i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <33
91 notes · View notes
tavern-aa · 4 years
Text
hii !! i hope youre having a great day/night. 
can u do the prompts “Wow, i didn’t realize you were that…flexible.” and/or  “Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” “Yes we can.” for zuko atla ? maybe hes the firelord and they go on a trip to the woods with the rest of the gang ? male reader please.
A/N: Yo…Leviathan wrote this with the help of a friend. Teddy was gonna write this and then said, nah. Not my ZuZu so I was tasked with editing our friends draft and I…may have gone overboard and just like rewritten it even though I have a distaste for smut.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Smut, +18, voyeurism, tons of subtle fire puns sue me
x Male Reader
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Smut Prompt: 63
“Wow, I didn’t realize you were that…flexible”
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Smut Prompt: 110-111
“Do you think they can hear us through the tent?”
“Yes we can.”
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They had travelled for hours to make it to the Western Air Temple, their feet heavy and their heads warry, and yet as soon as they set their belongings down, Aang suggested a sparing match. For fun of course, to blow off steam, get everyone a little sleepy so that they could rest a little easier that night. Zuko agreed, partnering up with the air bender whilst Sokka turned to Y/N, the only other non-bender in their group.
Y/N let out a hefty sigh at the look of tired determination on his friends face, “don’t go easy on him, Y/N,” he heard Katara call from where she was setting up the fire to cook for the Gaang’s dinner. Toph walked over to the side and stomped her foot on the ground erecting a tent of rock just large enough for her to fit inside.
Sokka huffed before approaching Y/N for their fight, both landing blows with fist and weapon though the two seemed evenly matched as usual. That changed the moment Y/N’s gaze drifted towards the other men’s fight, his eyes watching as Zuko moved unaware of his stare. Sokka took the opportunity of Y/N’s distraction to land a particularly hard blow to his friends leg swiping it out from under him.
“Point to Sokka!” He exclaimed in excitement as he danced around Y/N’s prone being.
“Shut it, boomerang boy. I was distracted,” Y/N pouted not having noticed the other two had finished their sparring match. Aang laughed loudly at the nickname for Sokka causing him to blush a deep red.
“Stop laughing, Aang! And it was fair, doesn’t matter if you were distracted or not!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
With that, Y/N used his leg to swipe Sokka’s feet out from under him before clambering over and holding the blade of his knife to the other man’s throat.
“How ‘bout that for fair?”
Sokka huffed before pushing the knife away with his finger, pushing Y/N off gently and getting up.
“Yeah yeah, your win again…I’m starving!”
Y/N watched Sokka run over to the camp fire and start bothering Katara before he too made his way closer to the others, grabbing his tent supplies to set up his and Zuko’s shared tent. The two were forced to share a tent due to lack of space; Sokka, Aang, and Katara were sharing the larger tent and Toph made her own so the other two males were left with the smaller tent.
The non-bender tried to set up the shelter as quick as possible, but we all know that tents are stupid and never want to be easy. His ear perked up as he heard the others laughing with eachother, but he paid no mind, instead keeping his focus on the task at hand.
A hand on his shoulder a moment later startled him out of his trance like state of trying to put the pole into the fabric.
“Sorry…I didn’t mean to startle you, it just looked like you needed help with the tent?”
Zuko.
Y/N’s heart hammered in his chest as his eyes turned to meet the other’s.
“Oh, uh…yeah, that would be great,” he muttered. It’s not like he was nervous around Zuko because he was a fire bender, no he was nervous for a much different reason. Zuko had been so kind to him ever since Y/N joined the Gaang, like sure he was close to everyone but Zuko was especially sweet to Y/N and the non-bender didn’t know why.
“Hey, are you feeling okay…by the way? I uh…I noticed you took a pretty hard fall earlier when sparring with Sokka,” Zuko questioned, raising his head momentarily to glance at the smaller male.
“Oh…ha, you saw that huh? Yeah I’m fine, a little sore, but I’m fine.”
“I could stretch you out if you want?”
Y/N’s face grew bright red, his grip on one of the poles turning white as his head snapped in Zuko’s direction.
“Huh?” He managed to squeak out in shock as Zuko looked up in confusion.
“What? Did I say somethi- oh…oh no that’s not- I-…” Zuko quickly cut himself off, his face also a deep crimson color from realization.
“No, no you’re fine, I’m sorry that was on me,” Y/N awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before standing up from the now pitched tent.
“But I do think I’ll take you up on that offer, I have some really bad kinks in my neck and back.”
Zuko’s face turned a deeper red as he heard Y/N’s words leave his mouth this time causing the smaller man to sputter and stumble over his words.
“Wait- I- no…I just…”
“This is so awkward to watch…” Sokka commented from the campfire, a spoon being held in front of his mouth. Y/N immediately flipped him off in response, his eyes cast downwards in embarrassment.
“Come on Y/N…let’s just get in the tent and stretch your muscles,” Zuko suggested, gently guiding Y/N into the tent before he zipped up the entrance, “So just uh…take off your shirt and lay on your stomach I guess.”
Y/N’s face stayed the crimson color as his hands reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in a quick swipe. His hands shook as he tossed it to the side of the area before lowering himself onto one of the sleeping bags on the ground, shivering slightly as the cool material of the fabric.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, a pair of warm hands made contact with Y/N’s back.
“I’m gonna start now,” Zuko whispered as he slowly dug his fingers into the smaller males back. Y/N let out a soft gasp as he felt the man’s fingers press into the sore sports of his body.
“Tell me if it hurts okay?”
“Y-yeah, it feels nice so far.”
Zuko nodded in response though he realized a second later that Y/N could not see him and blushed in embarrassment. After working on his back for a few more minutes, he tapped on the boy’s side.
“Can you turn over, I’m gonna do your legs now.”
Y/N felt his face flush before he slowly nodded into the fabric of the sleeping bag rolling his body over to expose his bare chest to the older male. Zuko’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the pink nubs that stood erect on Y/N’s chest wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab them, play with them, and have them in his mouth, just to make the smaller boy squirm in pleasure.
He quickly shook the thought from his head as he let his gaze trail down towards the younger male’s legs, eyes pausing only momentarily to stare longingly at the bulge in Y/N’s pants.
“Can you uh…can you take your pants off too? So I can get to the skin! Not anything weird!”
Y/N let out a nervous giggle before sitting up slightly and tugging off his pants revealing his briefs.
“A-alright, thank you,” Zuko breathed, his eyes trailing along Y/N’s legs in awe of the color and how incredibly soft they looked. He gently placed his hand on one of the smaller boy’s legs, gently lifting it to get it into a position to stretch out the muscle. This particular stretch has Y/N’s leg up in the air with Zuko’s body directly pressed against it and situated between his legs. Zuko felt his heart start to hammer against his ribs as he began to push Y/N’s leg towards his torso causing a small whimper of pain to release from the smaller boy’s mouth.
“Was that too far?”
“N-no it felt good, keep going.”
Moving on, he continued to push Y/N’s leg all the way up to where the boy was almost doing the splits.
“Wow, I didn’t realize you were that…flexible,” Zuko gulped, his eyes staring directly into Y/N’s. Y/N blushed deeply as he raised his hands to hide his face from the other man.
“I was close friends with Ty Lee and her family growing up so…” the younger male stated, his body shaking in nervousness.
“You’re shaking,” Zuko observed, pulling back from the stretch but keeping the smaller boy’s leg propped over his shoulder, his finger’s slightly digging into the skin.
“A-am I? That-that’s strange, ahaha.” Y/N felt time stop as he watched the fire bender turn his head to look at the smaller boy’s leg before placing a gentle peck against the skin. Not to be cheesy, but the place where his lips touched felt like a flame had been placed and spread from there sending a heat to his stomach.
“Zuko?”
“Hm?” Zuko hummed in response, slowly leaving more burning kisses along the length of the smaller boy’s leg, “What is it, firefly?”
The was it, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Y/N was hard and obviously so especially since Zuko was still pressing his body against the non bender’s.
“Zuko…” Y/N breathed, an argument playing out within his head debating on whether or not to continue with the actions the two were about to partake in. There were so many possibilities that something could go wrong, but…he could be with Zuko finally. His head felt light as he weighed the options before he finally made up his mind.
Zuko watched slightly amused as Y/N dropped his hands from covering his crimson face and sat up so that their faces were centimeters apart.
“I want you.”
Zuko’s face flushed softly across his cheeks before he nodded slowly, using his free hand to cup the younger man’s face, bringing their lips together in a heated kiss. Y/N let his shaking hands slide into the silky hair of the Fire Lord. A grunt left Zuko’s throat as he adjusted his position, accidentally not so accidentally grinding his growing bulge into Y/N’s raging hard on.
Y/N’s lips parted in shock, a gasp escaping him before Zuko plunged his tongue into the younger man’s mouth. Their tongues seemed to wrestle for ages, but soon Zuko won out before he gently guided Y/n’s body back onto the sleeping bag.
They parted for a second to catch their breaths, Y/N’s entire being seemed disheveled, his hair was a mess, his clothes were missing, and his lips were glossy and swollen from their passionate kiss. All in all, Zuko was close to going feral over that sight alone.
Y/N’s hand reached out and gently stroked the scarred side of Zuko’s face before he pulled the older man back down to him to place a few soft kisses against the scar.
“You’re so handsome…” he whispered against Zuko’s skin causing the Fire Lord to shiver.
“I could say the same to you,” Zuko chuckled, his fingers gently tracing over the smaller mans face before he trailed his hand down towards Y/N’s exposed chest.
The non bender’s back arched into Zuko’s hand as soon as it made contact with the pink bud, a whimper leaving his lips, begging him to touch him properly. Zuko let a smirk cross his face as he took the bud between his fingers, gently tweaking it carefully and yet enough to make Y/N squirm, soft breathy moans escaping his lips.
“Zuko, take your clothes off too…” He whined, reaching up and tugging at the Fire Lord’s tunic. Zuko shook his head in amusement before he stopped his actions, letting Y/N’s leg fall beside him as he pulled his tunic over his head.
“You’re so cute, Firefly.”
Immediately, Zuko was back to attacking the smaller man’s nipples though this time he used his mouth, sucking and gently nipping at the hard buds. Small sounds of pleasure left Y/N’s mouth at the assault, his fingers gripping at Zuko’s hair. The taller man raised an eyebrow at the action, lifting his head slowly to gaze at his partner with a slight smirk.
“What is it now, hm Firefly?”
“I-I wanna touch you too…”
Zuko’s eyebrows raised higher in shock before his smirk grew exponentially.
“If you want to baby, I’m not gonna stop you,” he chuckled, sitting up slowly to allow the other man room to move if he so pleased. Y/N took the opportunity to sit up before switching up his position to be on his knees. He then crawled toward Zuko slowly before letting his hand rest just above the waistband of his pants.
Y/N looked up at the Fire Lord for any hesitation, seeing none, and then continuing to grab both the waistband of his pants and his boxers, slowly pulling them down to expose the older man’s length. The smaller boy felt his heart stop at the size. It wasn’t the longest he had seen but fuck, it was a girthy motherfucker. He swallowed harshly before taking it into his hands, slowly pumping the length of the shaft before leaning his head towards the tip.
His tongue slipped from between his lips, letting it kitten lick the very tip of Zuko’s cock before he slowly engulfed the head with his mouth. His head was spinning as he began to pump his head up and back down the shaft, though he couldn’t get very far seeing as his mouth was slightly small for the width of his cock. A few seconds into the endeavor, Y/N felt Zuko’s finger’s slide into his hair causing him to glance up at his partner.
Zuko’s eyes were glazed over in ecstasy as he stared down at the smaller man, his teeth harshly bit his lip as Y/N ran his tongue up the side of Zuko’s cock once more before traveling down to his balls. His mouth continued to roam the areas he knew were weak points, exploiting them and causing Zuko to groan a little too loudly.
Both males froze in sudden fear of their friends hearing them. They stayed frozen for a few seconds before Y/N looked up at Zuko with concern.
“Do you think they can hear us through the tent?
“Yes we can,” came Toph’s response causing both men’s faces to flush violently as they jumped away from each other.
“I-I’m so sorry!” Y/N squeaked out before sliding into his sleeping bag and hiding his face from Zuko. The taller male’s face was in no better shape than Y/N’s was but he let out a soft chuckle before crawling back over to Y/N.
“I didn’t get to finish,” he whispered in the smaller man’s ear causing him to tense, “What are you gonna do about it?”
~
The next morning, Zuko and Y/N woke to the bleary, dark circled eyes of their friends. 
“Good morning everyone,” Y/N chirped happily, his face seemed to be glowing after the previous night. The four people sat around the camp fire sent exasperated looked back at both him and Zuko who had just ducked out of the tent.
“Yeah, morning guys,” He stated before slinging his arm over Y/N’s shoulder nonchalantly.
“I hate you guys,” Sokka stated before turning back to his food.  
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Love Cuts Deep
Chapter 8- Bastards From Space
Summary: These past couple years in Wakanda with Bucky have been the best. Who would have thought some aliens would be the thing to ruin it all.
Warning: violence, angst, reader being a bad bitch, things get intense
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Today had started as normal as ever, you woke up with Bucky’s arm slung over your face, his body practically covering you like a human blanket. Then you two got out of bed, did your usual morning routines, and started your day with helping the Wakandians with whatever tough job needed done for the next however many hours.
Which as of now happens to be chopping wood; you sit comfortably on a spared thick log while Bucky smashes the Vibranium axe into another chunk of wood while you watch him with a mischievous smirk playing at your lips. “You’re doing a fantastic job with that by the way.”
Bucky sets another one down as a smile pulls at his handsome face, “Oh yeah?”
“Yes, your form is just...amazing.” You applaud, making a chefs kiss motion with your fingers as he chuckles before splitting another hunk in two.
“You know..” Starts Bucky as he sets the axe against his shoulder while you rest your knuckles against your chin, “this would go a lot faster if you helped me.”
“Then I wouldn’t be able to watch you doing your thing....and by the way you look real fine, did I mention that already?” You add with a click of your tongue while he throws you a humored glare of affection.
“I could use your help.”
You point to the wagon seated next to you, “I did, I threw all these bags and split wood in here so now I’m taking my earned break that I obviously get because I finished my job. You on the other hand don’t deserve an earned break.”
Bucky huffs, deciding to ignore your little bout of sass that so unmistakably is targeted to rile him up, so instead does he mumble out something incomprehensible just for himself to hear, “Yeah, and if we were in that hut I’d show you an earned break.”
Snickering, you cross your arms while studying Bucky’s concentrated face; his dark mane is all wet and unwashed, clothes a bit dirty and unkept with some sweat stains marking them from when you two sparred each other that morning. But God if you don’t think he’s the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth in your lifetime. How did you ever get so lucky?
He’s been a true beacon of hope and refuge since Romania, and you’re for certain that if not for one another’s found love. You’d both be much lonelier people.
“What’r you thinking about?” Mutters Bucky while you return from your drifting thoughts. Though soon you’re alerted to the sounds of walking in the grass that draws your attention to the hillside. “Why the fuck is T’Challa here?” You move to stand and a moment later King T’Challa and a couple of the Dora Milaje are walking down the grassy hill with something in their arms to greet the two of you. The king of Wakanda appears a tad bit distressed, face unusually more serious then what marks his features most days. You immediately know something is wrong.
Bucky shares a wary glance with you as the king greets you two with a nod, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Valerious.” One of his guardsmen unclasps the long black case only to reveal a Wakandian styled metal arm.
Bucky purses his lips as he looks down at the new appendage, “Where’s the fight.”
King T’Challa gives the two of you a hard expression, “On it’s way.”
——
After learning about some angry aliens on their way to take the mind stone from Vision, and that a good portion of the rouge Avengers are on their way to Wakanda. You and Bucky knew deep down something wild must be stirring in the universe for something as big as this to happen, something very bad indeed.
You just have no idea what.
Clasping your black armored top together, you move to put on the Wakandian black leathered Vibranium gauntlets that were gifted to you for this special occasion, not that it’s really that special, but you do look cool. The new armor feels solid and stable against your forearm as you focus on tightening the clasps when suddenly you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you.
“I know you’re looking at me.” You muse, side eyeing him.
He smiles, eyes never leaving you as you lock in the armor to your forearm. He studies the brilliant dark attire that’s laced with a vibrant golden hue, “You look like a warrior.” Admits Bucky almost in awe of how you’re currently looking.
You nod, “I’d feel a little out of place next to the Dora Milaje....but uh, this suit is nice.” You add with a shrug, “Comfortable and practical, they really know how to size right.”
“Yeah....” Mumbles Bucky with a breathy laugh while you focus on the task at hand, oblivious as to where his gaze wanders all over your vessel and the parts your new attire ever-so-slightly accentuates. He just thinks you’re so beautiful no matter how you look, and right now, in Bucky’s head you’re one fine specimen. 
“How’s the new arm?”
Bucky’s wandering eyes soon shift down to the new dark plated Vibranium and golden laced metalwork, “Feels light. Like it’s apart of me you know? I still can’t believe how amazing their tech is.”
“I know right..” You pause for a moment, glancing warily over to the clock, “Well, guess we better get moving. Okoye said they’ll be here soon.” Bucky nods before zipping his jacket up the rest of the way and walking over to your side. He stops to buckle down the left side of your Wakandian styled black vest while you happily let him. Enjoying how close he is to you and the adorable way he sticks his tongue out when fully focused on a task.
Once done, Bucky takes a look at his handiwork, reaching to clasp your one hand with his. He smiles though a sadness hides behind those beautiful blues, “To battle?” Whispers Bucky.
Reaching a hand up to place a soft touch against his stubbled cheek, you smile fearlessly, “To battle.”
Soon the two of you are outside of T’Challa’s palace, standing off to the side as the king and his warriors greet the approaching Quinjet as it lands on the stone landing pad. A minute later, you catch the sight of a bearded Steve, a blonde haired Natasha, Sam, Bruce Banner, and lastly Wanda and Vision as they walk out side by side.
Vision looks hurt, and Wanda has a scar above her brow. Wonder what brute did that?
T’Challa welcomes the team before he nods and turns for them to follow, Vision and Wanda walk past you two as you finally see them clearer through the parting crowd, “How we looking?” Asks Natasha as she follows behind the king, Steve to her immediate right, the others following close behind them. 
“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”
“And a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” Quips Bucky as all of you finally come face to face with one another, Steve immediately smiles as you walk next to Bucky. “Plus whatever the hell I am.” You jest as the two of them go in for a hug.
Natasha gives you a smirk as they part, “How you guys been?” Asks Steve, blue eyes flickering between you two.
Bucky looks over at you and shrugs, “Uh, not bad...”
“....for the end of the world.” You deadpan, causing Bucky to chuckle as well as Steve and Natasha.
“Well, it’s nice seeing you guys again...” Adds Steve as Natasha takes a step forward towards you. “We gotta stop meeting each other like this.” Quips the ex-assassin. 
You snort at the little inside joke between the two of you, raising a brow at them, “You know, you guys don’t have to visit just because some aliens are threatening our entire existence. Couldn’t we have saved a reunion for a wedding or something?”
Steve sighs, “Yeah, that would have been preferred.”
“Too bad none of you invited us.” Smirks Natasha as she looks between you and Bucky with a raised brow of her own, his stubbled face growing a small shade of pink while you awkwardly cough, eyes darting elsewhere.
“Yeah, we’re getting there, Nat.” You mutter while rubbing the back of your neck, the thought of marrying Bucky has never actually crossed your mind. You love him, its just, you two married? Actually married? Would he even want that? You have no idea, maybe talking about it before the alien situation would have been helpful in the long run. Too late for that now, guess another time then.
“Alright, come with me upstairs my friends, my sister will see what can be done for your friend.” Adds T’Challa as he takes a step back, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce all following suit and through the doors they go inside to assess the Vision situation upstairs. Leaving Sam and Rodney. 
You watch as Natasha’s body disappears behind the dark glass before turning around to meet a smiling Sam as he wanders closer to you and Bucky. Undoubtedly about to give you two a proper Sam-like greeting, “Nice to see you two weirdos again.” Chuckles Sam as he takes in how much or little you and Bucky have changed since a couple years ago.
“Can’t say the same.” Muses Bucky as you snicker at Sam’s half-offended reaction.
“I guess.....maybe....possibly.....it’s nice to see your annoying face, again.” You add, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nods, “Better then you coming to try and arrest us.”
“Alright, I’ll take it.” He smiles, “At least someone cares about me after all this time.” Side eyeing Bucky as he holds back a laugh.
“Never said that.” You mutter while shaking your head at him, “Definitely did not miss you at all.”
“You were thinking it.” Points Sam, “So was Bucky.”
“I wasn’t.”
About ten minutes later, after fully catching one another up on the happenings missed by the distance and time apart, the hair on the back of your neck pricks with the sound of something large and unfamiliar breaking into the atmosphere above. Soon a smoking metal ship crashes into the forcefield high above your heads, an explosion of fire and debris blasts in its wake as the destroyed object slides off the sides.
“God, I love this place.” Mutters Bucky as the three of you look to the sky.
“Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome.” Announces Rodney on the ear coms as your face falls when more blasts crash against the protective outer barrier of Wakanda.
“Fuck......I’ve never met an alien before.” You mumble as they look to you now, your eyes wide and fearful as you stare up at the sky, “And I don’t think I want to.”
Soon more glaring fiery balls come racing past high up in the clouds headed straight for the Wakandian forcefield, violently crashing against it though nothing pierces through much to your great relief. Not even a minute later T’Challa and the rest of the team are on ground level with the rest of you. Urging everyone into the advanced Wakandian vehicles, you file in close to Bucky and Natasha as the driver begins making haste for the huge fields beyond.
Wind flies wildly past your face as you observe the growing smoke rising up from the broken and burning forest from where the aliens have landed, where they’re preparing for battle far behind the protective forcefield.
The hover vehicle reaches its destination on the knee high grass, immediately everyone files out; your boots fall into the soft ground as you find yourself on the field positioned in between Steve and Bucky while the rest of the Wakandian army keeps strong from your left, right and rear.
It’s a small comfort having everyone so near but it still feels like a false protection; Bruce is held in the Hulkbuster suit standing high and strong above the rest, while Rodney and Sam keep to the skies as they circle around in anticipation for what’s to go down.
You wish you felt better about this, but you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to feel dangerous and fearless, you’re not fighting against mortal men this time. These are beasts from a whole other world with no intention of sparing a life, they don’t care for human problems, they’re here for one single goal and that’s to take the mind stone.
Heart beating nervously in your chest, you turn a worried glance over to Bucky who’s holding a large machine gun in his left arm, he sends you a reassuring nod as T’Challa walks over to speak with Steve.
“There’s two by the perimeter, what our next move?”
“We’ve met the female one before, I guess we’ll go see if they can be reasoned with, though I’m afraid of their answer.” Begrudgingly replies Steve, eyes set ahead at two figures approaching the forcefield. One a tall broad scaled being and the other a half pale faced woman with two dark horns rising upward from her temples.
Steve, Natasha, and king T’Challa collectively decide to walk the distance to face them while everyone else remains in suspense. They speak for about a minute before walking back to the rest of you as the giant alien machinery shifts and rises with strange movement.
“They surrender?” Mutters Bucky as Steve takes his place by your side.
“Not exactly.” Well that sounds fucking promising.
Your body begins shaking with adrenaline as loud thunderous rumbling emits from the forest, a second later, large dog-like creatures race madly out of the tree line headed at a dead sprint for the forcefield.
“What the fuck.” You mutter, brows furrowed in confused bewilderment as the foreign creatures slam violently against the forcefield with little regard for what its doing to them.
Natasha hums, “Looks like we pissed her off.”
You nod as some of the beasts force their way through the guarded perimeter, they scream in fury and pain while their bodies and limbs get phased by the power of the giant shield protecting Wakanda.
“They’re killing themselves.” You can hear Okoye mutter in fearful bewilderment as the screaming creatures push through their violent assault, soon about a dozen break through, racing furiously over the shallow river and across the large battlefield to where everyone is standing.
King T’Challa shouts the battle cry as his army calls their technologically advanced shields to arms in an instant. The alien creatures thunder across the grass, getting closer and closer as the army around you begin shooting them down as fast as they can.
Bullets fly past your head as Bucky begins aiming for the beasts, shooting them down with great accuracy as you breath heavily from your growing adrenaline. Sam and Rodney shoot from the sky; you watch more fall but a plethora of others begins running off to the sides as they attempt at searching for an alternative way around the forcefield.
T’Challa realizing this, calls for the opening of North-West Section Seventeen, which is the one right in front of you all. Well this is it then, you think nervously. Dreading how the events of today may play out within the next hour, or ten minutes for all you know.
“This will be the end of Wakanda.” Mutters M’Baku as the section is lifted.
Okoye nods, face stoic and fierce, “Then it will be the most noble ending in history.”
T’Challa steps to the front lines before valiantly shouting, “Wakanda forever!” And with that does the warriors cry with courage and might as everyone including you begins a dead sprint across the grassy field, pumping your arms hard, you feel a thrill of strange excitement pulsing throughout your entire vessel as your boots thunder against the ground in tune with the beasts that charge onward.
Steve races inhumanly fast, you right on his tail as T’Challa makes ground to your immediate right. The rest of your fellow warriors keeping up as best they can. You don’t remember ever unsheathing your claws, or when they sliced violently into the thick skin of the first alien you met.
But soon your hands are covered in the warm inky blood of the creatures you’ve killed as you don’t have time to think, only kill and survive is all your mind is on. You’re practically on autopilot as the beasts thrash and slash at everyone in sight.
Suddenly one of them traps you between it’s bear paws and the rough ground, sharp daggered teeth chomping at your face as you drive your fist straight through it’s jugular and back out again, instantly a spurt of sticky dark purple blood sprays onto the side of your face as you turn away from the gory scene.
Shoving it off of you, another one punts you into the rocky earth, in retaliation you throw a clawed fist right across its shoulder. Making sure to sink it in deep when you reach its stomach. Screams of pain are all you hear as it dies, going still as stone while you jump right back into the action.
Without warning, about three pin you to the ground while you grunt and groan from the weight and their knife sized claws digging into your armored sides, damn you’ve really had better days. Shoving your Adamantium talons right through it’s exposed chest, it immediately goes limp as it’s two friends strain to reach you while it’s annoyingly bulky vessel pins you to the rough ground.
Your lungs struggle to take in a decent breath when suddenly a crack of lighting sounds throughout the battlefield, a second later the large alien bodies are thrown off of you from the force of bright white electricity, killing them instantly.
Sucking in a deep breath of relief and general oxygen, you jump to your feet only to take notice of a blonde man in some type of royal armor with an axe in one hand and sparks of lighting in the other. Oddly enough, a raccoon and a walking humanoid tree to either side as he scans the horizon before turning around and belting out, “Bring! Me! Thanos!” Before taking flight as more electricity sparks and shoots all around him.
Yeah, alright that’s normal. At least they’re on your side.
He lands and a giant plethora of white hot lighting emits all around him, killing many of the alien creatures where they stand. Though there’s no time to celebrate this small victory when giant circular machines of war burst forth from the ground, many going in different directions, but these couple begin heading straight in yours.
Eyes widening in fear, you book it in the opposite direction as T’Challa yells for his men to fall back for the tree line, your heart races a mile a minute as you force yourself to keep running through the exhaustion and slight pain in your left thigh from a heeling bite mark.
But just as the razored metal closes in behind you, a bright whispy red halts it in its place. Turning towards the source, you’re almost comforted to find Wanda at the hands of the machinery’s demise. She yells, throwing her hands back as the metal clashes across the battlefield, killing the beasts as they go.
And she was up there this whole time?
Turning to face more foes, you look over to notice as the female alien stalks across the ruined battlefield towards Wanda at an alarmingly hefty pace, dark rusted yellow eyes set and predatory as she reaches her oblivious prey. Smacking her armored fist across Wanda’s head, the Sokovian tumbles into a ditch, horned lady alien trailing after her.
Shit, you should do something.
Taking out another beast, you book it over to help Wanda, jumping into the wide trench behind the woman, you catch the end of her heated threat to Wanda, “He’ll die alone. As will you.” Venom tripping off of her every word, God why are they so angry?
“She’s not alone.” You growl, face painted with inky purple blood, claws shimmering in the sunlight as she whips around to face you. Her eyes trail over your body as she scowls in deep irritation, before handing her an unfriendly smirk, “Come on you ugly fuck.” You growl.
She lunges at you, weapon drawn as you dodge her deadly blow by the sharp thin blade. She quickly whips around and is kindly greeted by your claws that rips the dull white flesh of her lower face. Blood seeps out as she screams, face flaring a fierce anger as she powers through and thrusts her blade into your left shoulder. Fucking bitch!
You’re immediately greeted with a sharp stinging pain that rips violently into your body from the assault. A boot rudely kicks you backwards onto the hard earth as Okoye smacks her dagger across the woman’s back, distracting her from trying to end your life. Like that would work.
Blood pools hot and angry out of your opened flesh while Okoye and Natasha handle the horned bitch from behind you and Wanda. Your hands push you off the gravely earth as Wanda shares a fearful glance with you, giving her a pursed lip grin. You jump to your feet and assess the escalating situation before you; Okoye is breathing heavily on the ground as Natasha holds back the woman with her shocking stick while pinned on her back, straining to keep the opposing blade away from her throat.
“Hey!” You shout, causing the woman to lift her gaze from Natasha to you, she doesn’t even have a second to react as your clawed fist slashes a deadly blow across her face. She immediately stumbles back in shock as blood spirts wildly out of her deep cuts, her eyes going wide as saucers when you land a powerful kick into her lower torso, sending her body flying upwards only to be mauled by one of the circular razors rolling past.
Blue blood marking your already dirty face, you turn to look down at Natasha as she glances between the three of you, face dotted in blue blood just the same, “That was really gross.” Grimaces the blonde as you give the others a once over before jumping back out into the action.
Minutes fly by as you fight your way to the tree line closest to the Wakandian palace, suddenly Steve’s voice is heard in the coms, “Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.” And with that do you follow Bucky and T’Challa as they race into the woods where Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce, and Wanda is protectively holding Vision as they keep seated on the grassy earth.
Collecting your breath, you walk over to Bucky as everyone feels a soft hunting breeze blowing the trees around, “Something’s not right.” You mutter worriedly as he shares a nervous look with you.
“I know. Just stay close to me.”
You nod before giving him a weak reassuring smile, a moment later a strange anomaly of purple, blue, and dark grey clouds present themselves a small distance in front of you all. A tall figure of great stature and physical strength walks out from the odd whispy mass, he’s larger then anyone you’ve ever seen before, skin colored purple and golden laced armor of another world.
“Cap. That’s him.” Announces Bruce as you heart begins racing once more, oh shit oh shit oh shit. Fuck he’s really big.
Steve raises his two arm shields, “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” As he starts walking in the direction of you’re assuming is this Thanos everyone has been talking about.
Hulkbuster thunders past, but as Bruce reaches Thanos, his body turns a transparent blue and falls right through the purple alien before lodging himself in the rock of the ascending cliffside.
Steve’s next as he throws himself at Thanos, the titan uses his golden gauntlet when a sudden purply wisp of energy throws Steve into the trees. T’Challa lunges, but is swiftly stopped when Thanos’ giant hand wraps around his throat. He’s then thrown him down like a ragged doll; Sam is next, wings fold in on themselves and soon he’s down too.
Rodney right after as Thanos uses the gauntlet to crush him from within his suit, he’s promptly thrown to the side like a rock. Bullets fly violently through the air as Bucky fires shot after shot at the purple titan to no avail, he’s thrown across the ground like nothing.
Terrified yet too much full of rage to think, you race for the bastard titan as he pushes Okoye to the side, Natasha left disabled when tree roots throw themselves around her. He quickly takes notice as you jump on the roots, heading straight for him with an animistic rage flashing through your eyes.
His fist rises as he calls more roots to action, you skillful dodge their grip as you make a desperate jump for the titan below you now. He’s fast, but not fast enough to evade your clawed fist, the middle razor slashes a clean line right across his left eye as you tumble to the ground behind him, finding your footing in an instant.
Yourself now between him and the mind stone that’s currently getting destroyed by a tearful Wanda from behind you, though you’re not paying enough attention to fully realize what’s going down, you breath heavily while eyeing up the bulky man.
The pissed off titan whips around to meet your courageous glare, left eye missing, dripping with warm purple blood that trails like an ugly waterfall down his scared cheeks until it spatters to the forest floor. Face now visibly angered and very much in pain as he stares you down.
He takes a threatening step forward as you take a cautious one back, eyeing you up, he nods, “A clean hit, I’m afraid this one won’t heal for me unfortunately...nonetheless, I am impressed by your valor small one, but your bravery will be in vain.” Speaks the titan as you stare up at him with shaky breaths.
oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
A second later the power of his golden gauntlet sends you flying into the trunk of a thick tree, knocking you out on impact.
When you awaken with a jolt, your nose is wet with drying crimson that trails across your lips and chin. Nothing hurts anymore but your body feels incredibly weird, taking in a deep breath, you stand on shaky legs. Eyes scanning the area only to find a confused Thor who’s looking rather dreadful and lost.
Steve quickly runs up to him, eyes searching around for Thanos who’s nowhere to be seen, “Where’d he go?” Wonders Steve as you slowly walk over to them, “Thor....Where’d he go?” Asks Steve more urgently this time, blue eyes looking around to no avail. Thanos is gone. Just like that.
But how?
You quickly catch movement to your left, but it’s just Bucky walking over to the three of you. Heart filled with relief, you start walking over to him as he locks eyes with you, a confused expression crossing over his features as he looks over at his left arm.
You follow his puzzled gaze and watch as his arm begins to disintegrate like ash on a windy day. Bucky finds your concerned face; panic, confusion, and fear flashing through his stormy irises as he takes another desperate step to reach you, “Y/N?” Is all you hear as the rest of his body begins turning to dust right before your very eyes.
His gun falls to the ground with a thud as the rest of his body disintegrates to nothing more then ash and dust upon the grass. You freeze, it feels like your heart as just been frozen in ice and smashed with a steel sledgehammer without remorse.
You swallow, walking on trembling legs to where his ashes remain, you slowly kneel. Hand touching the area as delicately as you would hold a newborn, this isn’t real this is just a shitty dream and you’ll wake up any second with him right by your side.
It’s just a dream. But you know, it’s not.
Steve wanders to your side before kneeling down and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip to hold the lump back that’s building in the back of your throat, you turn your head to meet him, your eyes glossed over with unshed tears.
He lowers his head in defeat as you stare bitterly back down at the ground where Bucky once was, lip quivering uncontrollably as you fight back a waterfall of hidden tears. The pain in your heart almost too much to bear. “Sam! Where are you?!” Shouts Rodney, a voice to bring you back to the world.
No, not the others too. How many did he take?
Blinking hard, a couple stray tears patter onto the brown ashes as you rise, Steve doing the same, you watch as he walks over to Vision who’s void of all color and taken of all life, a small crater marking the demise of his life force, the mind stone.
He kneels down to meet the body as Natasha runs into view, she quickly halts once her gaze falls onto Visions corpse, mouth agape in shock. Bruce, Rodney, that little raccoon, and Thor coming to from behind them as you amble closer to the distraught six, though your legs feel like they could give out at any moment.
“What is this?” Wonders Rodney as he looks from Steve to you and then over to Thor, “What the hell is happening?”
Tears stream silently down the sides of your cheeks now, they make a clean line from all the other dirt and blood that marks your skin. Breathing heavily, Natasha looks over to you, “Y/N?” She asks, voice wavering as her eyes trail over your mournfully stoic face.
He can’t be gone, not Bucky, not him.
-
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andwereallmadhere · 3 years
Text
You’re Not Alone | Jean x Reader
Paring: Jean x f!reader (slight Eren x reader mentioned)
Genre: FLUFF!, song fic
Word Count: 4.5k 
Warnings/ Triggers: Alcohol, underage drinking 
A/N: I was inspired by the Big Time Rush song You’re Not Alone (Link below). This is not the first thing I have written, but it is the first I am posting. Characters might be OOC but I feel like the overall feeling is there. I hope you enjoy!
Link to song: https://youtu.be/tbS5JF32szE
I bet you didn't notice First time your heart was broken You called me up and we talked til the morning
Jean is woken from his sleep by the harsh ringing of his phone. He fumbles for a minute trying to slide the little green button to answer the call. He puts the device up to his ear before stuffing his face back into the pillow, “Why are you call me it’s the middle of the night?” Sleep heavy in his gruff voice. He is quickly answered by your voice sobbing on the other end of the receiver. This immediately broke him out of his sleep-filled mind. He should have known when he saw your picture flash on the screen that you would only be calling if it was important. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He says wiping a guilty hand over his face. You didn’t respond. Still unable to form proper words through all the tears. He continues to quietly talk to you in an attempt to calm you down. Once the sobbing ebbs he finally asks, “Y/N, can you tell me what’s wrong?”
He only hears you choke out a single word, “Eren.”
Jean and Eren never did get along, in however long you and Jaeger had been dating. But, as your best friend, Jean tried his best to accept him since that would make you happy. So hearing that HE is the reason you are crying at 2 A.M. enrages Jean. 
“What did that bastard do? Did he try something you didn’t want? Do I need to beat him up? Y/N, I swear to god if he hurt you I will-“
“No Jean. It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?”
“He dumped me.”
“Y/N…”
“He just came by my house and told me that “I’m just over it I guess”. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“He’s a dick, I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
You only respond by sobbing more.
Eren had been your first real boyfriend. And as much as Jean didn’t want it to be true, you were head over heels. Everyone knew this would happen eventually, he just hoped there would be a little more warning. Maybe a fight or something but just cutting it off without a real reason? Jean had theories that he was probably hooking up with someone else and didn’t want the guilt of being a cheater, but you didn’t need to hear that right now. You didn’t need overprotective Jean hating on Eren. You needed best friend Jean to comfort you and assure you that you are worthy of love and everything is going to be okay.
“Hey, you can do better than him. He’s the real loser here. Any guy would be lucky to have you and the next one has to go through me first.” Jean says half meaning it, half attempting to make you laugh.
“Stop it, Jean, You know you’d lose every fight.” He can almost hear the smile in your voice, despite the tears that are certainly still running down your face. 
“Why don’t I come get you? We can go for a drive or something.”
“Okay.” Your soft voice is followed by a sniffle.
“I’m on my way.”
Jean gets out of the warmth of his bed and finds his sweatpants. He throws on a hoodie and grabs an extra in case you forget to bring your own. It's pretty chilly out tonight. He grabs his keys and begins the drive to your house. Once he arrives he sees your form sitting on your porch. Always the gentleman, he walks over to you and offers to help you up. You grab his hand and he can still see the tear stains on your cheeks. Once you are on your feet he pulls you into a hug. “Hey,” Jean says returning your tight squeeze. “Let’s go get you some food.” 
You don’t respond, but your grip around his waist losses and you begin making your way to the car. He opens the door for you and watches as you immediately grab the spare hoodie and slide it over your head. It’s obviously too big for you, but you are grateful for the extra fabric to bury your sad face in. 
The ride is mostly silent, Jean wanted to give you room to talk if you wanted. After a bit of having his hoodie pulled up to your nose, it was clear that you were too caught up in your own drowning thoughts to say anything so he turned on a very soft playlist from his phone in hopes of providing you some distraction.
Jean stops the car and you see he has brought you to a Waffle House. He knows it your favorite. Sure the food isn’t great but there is something about the mediocracy of the establishment that gets you. “Come on slowpoke, I’m buyin’,” Jean says after opening your door. You give him a thank you before following him into the restaurant. 
The two of you find a small booth, given that it was well into the night, there weren’t any people there other than the handful of employees. “You’ll have to talk to me eventually you know,” Jean says. You take a moment to look up from the menu he knows you have memorized by now. Just then a waitress comes by to take your order. 
Jean already knows exactly what you want because you always get the same thing. Just as he tells the waitress your order you finally speak, “Hey Jean.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, “can I have chocolate milk?” You look back down at the table while Jean turns back to the waitress, “And can the lady have a chocolate milk, please and thank you.” Jean smiles at you as the waitress walks away, your silly request signaling that his best friend is slowly but surely coming out of this shell of sadness. 
Sure enough, you begin to open up. You tell him more of the details about Eren dumping you. Your food arrives and you laugh when Jean spills his glass of water on his lap. The two of you eventually move to the barstool countertops to talk to the fry cook, trying to convince him to make you a pancake instead of a waffle. Eventually Jean pays, leaving a generous tip as an apology for your late-night shenanigans. 
Walking to the car you can see the pastel colors of the impending day reaching the sky. Not ready to go home yet you lean into Jean’s body, tugging on his arm, “Let’s go watch the sunrise!” 
“You’re ridiculous.” He says shaking his head, “get in the car.” He smiles and opens your car door. Of course he was going to let you watch the sunrise. He is going to drive you to the park and find a place high up and the two of you will talk about nothing at all until you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his car. He is really just happy that the outing has worked. No, 4 A.M. waffles cannot cure your broken heart but it at least made you smile. 
And the time that you were stranded I was there before you landed He was a no show, I made sure you got home
High school seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Graduation came and went and your family decided that you should spend the summer at your aunt’s house on the other side of the country. Of course, you loved your aunt and her kids, but spending your last real summer break away from your friends wasn’t a huge selling point. Ultimately, your mom said you had to go because the trip was already paid for and your aunt was expecting you. The only reason you eventually agreed was that the majority of your little group were all attending the same college, so at least it wasn’t goodbye.
The day before Freshman move-in everyone decided to throw a party at Eren and Mikasa’s house. Eren’s parents were out of town a lot so that is usually where the gang got together. Jean and Eren still don’t along great, but Jean was close to Sasha and Connie who happened to be okay friends with Armin and Mikasa, and thus your little group was formed for better or for worse. After the night Eren dumped you out of the blue, Jean was furious with him, only for you to accept Jaeger’s lame-ass apology and take him back a week later. Luckily there hadn’t been any more repeats of that night. Maybe Eren was telling the truth and did actually like you, so Jean played nice even if he didn’t fully forgive the brunette. 
And now he was here, with you on FaceTime while you wait for your flight at the airport and Jean is getting ready for Eren’s dumb party that you won’t even make it to. 
“So when does your flight get in?” Jean asks folding the remains of the load of laundry his mom did this morning. 
“I think about 11 if it’s not delayed again. I’m super bummed that I won’t make it in time for the party.”
“It’s at Jaeger’s house, can’t he just bring you by after he picks you up?” 
“I guess so, but he also said something about taking me home because it’ll be late and we have move in tomorrow.”
Jean hums in response. It is a valid argument logically, but none of them have seen you all summer except for the occasional FaceTime. The only real reason Jean was going to this stupid party was that you were supposed to be back in time. Jean can hear a voice come over the intercom in the airport. “Hey, Jean, that’s my flight. I gotta go.”
“Alright, Y/N, let me know when you land. See you soon.”
With that, the call ended. Your face replaced by a photo of you and Jean at prom making silly faces. Yeah, Eren was your date and Jean took Mikasa, but you all took photos together and his mom insisted on getting one of the two of you. It was obvious that the picture pissed Eren off, and that made it even more special to Jean. 
Eventually, Jean finished the laundry and headed over to Eren’s. At least everyone else will be there and he can kick Connie’s ass at beer pong. Jean purposefully arrived a little late, so he knew everyone else would already be there, and sure enough, Eren had the white folding table already set up in the garage and Armin had started a little bonfire in the backyard. “Horseface You made it!” Connie says throwing an arm around Jean. 
“I told you not to call me that.”
“What are you going to do send Y/N after me? Oh wait…She’s not here!”
“We both know Y/N could easily kick your ass so shut up.”
Jean went around greeting everyone else and made good on his promise to dominate at beer pong. A while later he takes a seat next to Armin, who was currently roasting a marshmallow. “Ever put peanut butter on a s’more? Whole new experience.”
Armin looks over at Jean, “Y/N show you that?”
“Oh no, secret’s out,” Jean says taking a drink of water. After the game of beer pong, which was a little closer in score than Jean would have enjoyed, he decided to take it easy on the booze so he could actually drive home.
“When does her flight get in anyway?” Armin asks removing his marshmallow from the flame. 
“She told me about 11 when we talked earlier. Said Eren was going to pick her up.” 
At the mention of his name the two look over to see Eren taking a shot with Sasha and Connie. “Did anyone tell him that?” Armin says with a small chuckle. 
Jean looked at his watch, it was only 9, if the bastard stop drinking now he might be sober enough to come get you. So Jean let it slide. 
But Eren didn’t stop drinking. It was now 10:30 and Eren was plastered. Jean watches as Eren and Connie arm wrestle and sighs. What would Y/N think if she saw her boyfriend like this? “Shit,” Jean says standing from his chair around the fire. This gets the attention of Armin and Mikasa who were also over Eren’s drunk bullshit, “What is it?” Armin questions. “Y/N. Eren is supposed to pick her up from the airport in 30 minutes.”
“Well, that’s not happening!” Sasha laughs, also drunk. 
Jean stood up and finished his soda before pulling his car keys from his pocket. 
“And where are you going Horseface? Afraid you’ll lose in arm wrestling?” Eren suddenly joins the conversation. Jean cannot believe this asshole, he doesn’t even realize! Jean contemplates throwing a punch, but that will inevitably start a fight and the airport is almost 40 minutes away so he’ll already be late. So instead, Jean crushes the soda can in his hand and walks away. “Ha! Horseface is a scary cat!” Eren yells at his back before Mikasa smacks Eren on the head. 
Jean’s anger melts through the drive. As upset as he is that Jaeger forgot, Jean is excited to see you. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain this one to you though. He parks his car and glances at the time, 11:15. At least you haven’t been waiting too long. 
Luckily the airport is pretty small and there are only a few incoming flights so it’s not hard to figure out which gate your flight should have landed at. He thinks it's a little odd you haven’t texted him that you landed safely but he dismissed it as he made his way to the gate. Jean is surprised to find the gate empty. No hugging families or people searching for their luggage. There are a few scattered people here and there, also apparently picking up various passengers. After talking with another guy, Jean finds out that the flight had been delayed before take off so it is running late. You were not stranded at the airport, you hadn’t even landed. 
Jean found a seat and began scrolling on his phone. He didn’t expect to have so much time so he didn’t really bring anything with him, not even headphones to listen to music. He sat waiting for what must have been a solid 30 minutes before he started to fall asleep in the chair. 
“Jean!” He hears your voice call, this rouses him from the light sleep. Once he sees your face he can’t help but smile. He stands to walk over to you but is practically knocked over when you throw yourself into his arms. “Hey, stranger.” He says wrapping his arms around you. 
“It feels like it has been forever!” You pull away from him and reach for your suitcase, but Jean beats you to it, grabbing the handle before you can. “I can carry it you know.” But you know it’s useless arguing. Mama Kirstein raised a gentleman, that’s for sure. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” You ask, giving him a side-eye as you follow him to his car. “Yeah…about that…” Jean still hasn’t figured out exactly what to say about why Eren ditched you. 
“Eren drunk himself stupid, didn’t he?” You say, almost casually. Like you expected it all along. 
“Yeah, but lucky for you I know a guy with a soft spot for you.” Jean places your things in the trunk before opening your car door.
“My shining stallion, always coming to my rescue.”
“Yeah, yeah, get in the car Princess.” He says. Eren’s stupid horse jokes have started rubbing off on you.
You spent the whole drive telling Jean about your trip, even though you talked with him almost every day you were gone. Jean in turn told you all the ridiculous things Sasha and Connie did while you were away. They still had group game night, which surprisingly Eren and Jean only tried to kill each other a handful of times. You laugh when Jean tells you the full story about Connie smashing Sasha’s face into a cake she brought one night, claiming “There is never a bad time for cake.” Sure they all sent you the pictures but you still loved hearing the story. And before you know it Jean pulled up in front of your house. 
He carried your suitcase to the door and turned to you, “I’ll pick you up at 6 alright?” Right, Jean offered to drive you to orientation tomorrow and it was a four-hour drive to the University. With all the excitement of seeing your best friend, you forgot about college tomorrow. “Ugh so early? That’s like 4 hours from now” 
“Unfortunately. Even then we’ll be cutting it close.”
“Fine. I’ll see you at 6.” You say giving him a final hug.
“Jean," you say into his chest, “I’m kind of glad it was you and not Eren that picked me up. I missed you. Thanks for always being there for me.”
“For you. Always.” Jean returns your hug before walking back to his car.
All the days that you were stressed out Feeling like pulling your hair out They were all missing but I was here listening
Freshman year came and went and now you were currently crying over your trigonometry textbook before your final tomorrow. Your other finals had gone pretty well and other than this stupid test you were finished with your first full year of university. Surprisingly Jean and Eren didn’t kill each other despite being suite mates. Originally the two were supposed to be roommates, but Armin quickly volunteered to switch with Jean, the blond being a little more equipped to handle Eren. You on the other hand shared a dorm with Sasha and Mikasa. Since it was the three of you you managed to snag a bigger room and didn’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else. When the gang got together for movie night it was usually in your room since the boys lived just down the hall. Overall it had been a pretty good year. 
Everyone else had already finished their finals, the majority of your group moving back home on Wednesday, except Jean who had his last final today. Jean also offered to stay an extra day so you could drive home together, but he would never say that out loud. “I’m gonna use the extra time to relax since Jaeger is gone. Living with him for a year almost killed me!” He would claim, ever the dramatic. But you knew he was also staying for you since you didn’t have a car and he did a similar thing for winter break. 
Trig had been your worst class all semester. No matter how many times you worked through the problems you were always getting a different answer, usually the wrong one. Armin helped you study for your midterm, but since he was already gone you were left alone. While your overall grade wasn’t bad considering you did all of the extra credit options your professor offered, this test could make or break your final GPA. If you could get at least an 85% it would bump your grade from a high C to a low B. So you have been doing nothing but math since your other finals finished this morning. And you were about to cry. Again. After completing the study guide and taking half a dozen practice tests you aren’t anywhere close to what you needed. After grading your last practice test, you barely managed an 80% and that was being nice to yourself. 
“I’m never going to get this.” You sob, ink running from the tears now spilling onto your paper. Then there is a knock on the door.
“Who’s there?”
“The pizza guy?” Jean says from the other side of your door. At the mention of food, you realize you hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which wasn’t saying much since you had a muffin and cup of coffee after Mikasa yelled at you for forgetting to eat earlier in the week. But you didn’t want Jean to see you struggling this much. Yeah, you could talk to him about anything but he was always so gifted when it came to school, even graduated top of the class in high school. So the idea of him seeing you brought to tears by something he saw as easy made your heartache. You were afraid he would accidentally make fun of you in that cocky way he does, or he would offer to help but realize you were a lost cause before ditching you altogether.
“Go away, Jean. I’m studying,” You yell back, attempting to hide the overwhelming stress from your voice.
“Well take a break, I wasn’t joking about the pizza. Mikasa told me you haven’t been eating so you better open this door, Y/N, before I resort to drastic measures.”
You give up getting him to go away, plus that pizza sounds so good. You get up and open the door, “And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?” 
“Sasha left her keys in our dorm, so I probably would have just walked in.” Jean finally takes a look at your face, and despite your efforts to wipe away your tears, Jean knows you’ve been crying.
“Y/N what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? You-‘ You cut him off before he can finish. “What kind of pizza did you bring?” 
“Your favorite, of course.” Jean sets the pizza on your bed while you grab some drinks out of the little micro-fridge. Jean glances at your desk and quickly takes in the scattered notes and tear-stained papers. Suddenly it makes sense. Your lack of eating, how you haven’t been responding to texts, and the tears when you opened the door. “I can help you you know? I took Trig last semester.” 
“I told you not to worry about it.” You say attempting to be mad at him for snooping but it’s pointless. You take a seat on the bed and open the pizza box, “Horseface.” You add almost in a whisper. 
Jean visibly shrivels at the name, “No. Not you. Not allowed.”
This small comment was enough to change the subject, and his mild anger at such a stupid name pulls an amused smile out of you. The two of you eat and converse as usual. He tells you about his last final and how Eren left their shared bathroom a mess that he needs to take care of before you leave tomorrow. You talk about how one of your professors just showed a movie during the final period since they are required to hold class despite not actually giving a test. And you feel the stress leave your body, even if just for a moment. 
After a while, Jean looks back over at your desk before grabbing your textbook and the last practice test you took. “This isn’t bad, Y/N, looks like some simple mistakes that you keep making, fix those and you’ll be fine.”
“How can I fix something I don’t know I’m doing wrong?” You ask.
“Because I’m going to help you, idiot.”
Jean proceeds to walk you through your last practice test and showing you the mistakes he was talking about. After helping you do a few more problems, Mr. Kirstein makes you do another practice test that he’s going to grade. While you take the test Jean lays on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He’s trying not to look at you, not wanting to add more pressure to you by feeling watched. 
After you are finished you pass him the paper and watch as he marks up the pages with a red pen. Eventually, he turns to you and gives you back the test, a solid 83%. Not as good as you hoped but you don’t want to discredit Jean’s tutoring. After walking through the test you look at the clock, it's currently 1 A.M. 
“Well Y/N, your test is first thing in the morning and I don’t think stressing yourself out more is going to help you at all.”
“But what am I supposed to do? I need an 85!”
“You need sleep,” Jean says, packing up your study materials.
“One more practice test, then I sleep, I swear.’
“Sleep now. Maybe you can do another in the morning.”
There is no use in arguing with Jean, he always gets his way. Once the study materials were all put away Jean takes your laptop and opens up Netflix, knowing you won’t be able to sleep if you were still worked up. The two of you sit side by side on your bed watching some stupid movie until Jean notices your eyes have closed and your breathing has evened out. As quietly as possible Jean closes the laptop and climbs out of the bed. He puts a blanket over your sleeping form and turns off the light before closing the door to your room. 
The next morning you wake up with a text from Jean. Opening your door you find a fresh coffee and a doughnut waiting on your doorstep. “That idiot.” You mumble to no one, but gratefully pick up the small meal he left for you. After eating you get ready to go and resign to looking over some notes before the exam. Once in the classroom, all the stress from last night comes crashing back. You just have to keep reminding yourself that a C in trig isn’t bad. Your GPA will still be above a 3.0, barely but still. And before you know it your teacher has told you to begin your exam so you log on to your computer and start your test. 
The good thing about the test being on the computer is that you’ll know your results immediately. After going over the answers a second time you finally hit the submit button. You stare at the little blinking cursor as it checks through all your answers, holding your breath. Suddenly your final grade pops up on the screen and you can’t stop the tears that slip from your eyes. You gather your things and head back to your dorm. But you find Jean waiting outside the building, leaning against the car without a care in the world. “JEAN!” You practically scream upon seeing him. He can see the tears on your face, “It’s okay, Y/N. Trig is pointless anyway. You still did great even if you got a C.”
“I did it! Jean, I got a 90%!”
“That’s my girl!” Jean says giving you a high five.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, teach.” You say giving him a big grin.
“Come on, Y/N. I say we get you a celebratory milkshake before we drive home. Jean says opening the door for you. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the car to the driver’s side. You are lucky to have him in your life. Yeah, he can be kind of an ass from time to time, but his heart is always in the right place. 
'Cause I'll be right there (right there) For every minute This time, it's no different Whatever happens you should know 'Cause you're not alone, girl Look over your shoulder You don't have to wonder 'Cause you know, you know, you know You're not alone, girl
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evening-starlight · 3 years
Text
Warm Beers
Taglist is OPEN! DM or comment to be added
Posting schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday
This story takes place before season 1
All Works Master List
Warm Beers Master List
6
Word Count: 1165
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    A lit cigarette hangs from McKenzie's lips as she leans over the propped-up surfboard. Sweat was already beading on her forehead before she had done any work on the board. After weeks of surfing with her friends, the gripping wax had melted beyond her comfort zone. The music plays over the outdoor system, and she sings along, swaying her hips in time.
    Kenzie was alone for the morning. Her friends didn't get up before noon most days, and her dad was in the office. Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne blares across her backyard, drowning out the distinctive sound of the Twinkie and three doors closing.
    The old, gray wax slides off her board like butter as Kenzie sings her heart out, not hearing her friends walk up the gravel driveway to her backyard. She continues to sing loudly, swinging her hips side to side as her friends muffle their laughs. They watch on in hushed tones.
    JJ snickers when she trips over her own feet, trying to do a spin. Kenzie may be coordinated, but she was the clumsiest person he knew. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees four pairs of shoes as she regains balance.
    With a yelp, Kenzie throws the scrapper at the intruders, not expecting her friends to be at her house this early. The scrapper hits next to JJ's head and would have hit him if he hadn't ducked. "Jesus fucking Christ, guys. You should know not to sneak up on a deputy's daughter," Kenzie berates, clutching her chest as she calms herself down.
    "Well, if you were on your phone like you usually are, you'd know that we were coming over," JJ says. He walks over to her and takes the cigarette out of her hand. Kenzie shakes her head and smacks JJ's arm.
    "We wanted to see if you wanted to catch some early morning waves with us?" John B. asks. "But seeing as you're working on your shortboard, I guess that's out of the question."
    "I have my dad's I can steal for the day. Just let me finish this here, and I'll meet you guys down there?" Kenzie asks, taking the cigarette back from JJ. The gang agrees quickly, ready to hit some waves. Pope tosses her the wax comb and follows his friends back to the Twinkie.
    JJ opts to stay behind, wanting to spend more time with Kenzie. "You don't have to stay, you know?" Kenzie states as she goes back to cleaning the board of its old wax. JJ starts on the other side with a spare scrapper he found on the floor.
    "I know. I just like spending time with you. Is that a crime, Ken?" JJ asks in a sassy tone. Kenzie laughs and shakes her head.
    "Yes. A crime punishable by life in prison," Kenzie retorts, focusing back to her board. JJ laughs with her before finishing off the wax on his side.
    The friends dance and sing together to the songs that play over her sound system while they wax. Granted, there was more fooling around than working between the two. Kenzie squeals as JJ lifts her off the ground, throwing her over his shoulder when she tried to finish waxing her shortboard. "JJ," She yells, slapping his back playfully.
    "I'm bored of waxing, Ken. Let's go surf," JJ whines, already carrying her inside of her house. Kenzie giggles and flops against JJ, making carrying her harder. She yelps again as JJ tosses her onto her bed.
    She rolls off of the other side when JJ tries to lay on top of her. "Didn't you just say you wanted to go surfing, Maybank?" He groans in response and settles his hands behind his head while Kenzie finds a bikini from her drawers. "Are you just going to sit there like a pervert while I change?" Kenzie asks, eyeing the boy suspiciously.
    JJ shrugs, not breaking eye contact. "You've changed in front of me before, so what's different now?" He asks. Kenzie doesn't have enough energy to fight him on this, so she turns her back, peeling her shirt off. Nothing was different, obviously. But it still felt tense taking off her clothes.
    Her back flexes as she pulls the halter top on. Kezie's perfectly tanned, flawless back. If she turned just a little, JJ could see her perfect breasts. JJ shakes his head to try to clear the thoughts, but when her shorts hit the floor, JJ gets the perfect view of her ass. Absolutely flawless, he thinks to himself.
    McKenzie turns back around and smiles at JJ. "Ready to go?" She asks as she pulls on the clothes she wore earlier back on. JJ, once again speechless by the beauty that is his best friend, nods.
    John B. cheers when he sees the duo walk down the beach, carrying their boards under their arms. "About damn time, assholes." He yells up to them. Kenzie and JJ flip him off in unison before running down the sand to where the water meets the sand.
    The group spends hours surfing the morning tide. Pope and Kenzie share a board at one point, unsuccessfully trying couple's tricks. The only one they got close was when Kenzie was on Pope's shoulders. Kenzie had made it onto his shoulders easily, but when a wave caught them, both fell into the water in a fit of giggles.
     Pope hauls the bucket of water up to their sandcastle, smiling brightly as they almost finished the moat. The castle stood tall and proud, a small leaf on the top as their Pouge flag. As Pope fills up the trench, JJ sits next to Kenzie on the hot sand. "What's this?"
    "A jail," Kenzie sasses, rolling her head to the side to look at JJ. "A fucking castle. What does it look like, genius?" JJ scoffs and rolls his eyes. "It's the castle of Queen Bitch and King Dumbass. They rule Pougelandia," Kenzie informs. JJ laughs with an approving nod.
    "I like your story, Ken. Let me guess, I'm King Dumbass?" Kenzie shakes her head.
    "Nope. John B. is King Dumbass. You're Princess Asshole."
    "I thought it was Queen Bitch?" JJ asks, smirking at Kenzie. He loved how intricate her little stories would become when she made sandcastles. Kenzie sighs dramatically.
    "No, you're Princess Asshole, Pope is Queen Bitch, and Kiara is Prince Charming," Kenzie jokes, leaning her head on JJ's shoulder. "I'm obviously the royal jester. Considering I'm the funniest fucker you will ever know."
    Pope scoffs with a shake of his head. "So I'm married to John B., and you get to live life happily making jokes for everyone to laugh at?"
    John B. soon joins them and plays along with Kenzie's story, making kissing faces at an uncomfortable Pope. Kenzie laughs at her friends' antics, teasing and mocking each other like usual teens do. Some part of Kenzie is touching JJ at all times, enjoying the physical contact she got with him.
Taglist: @gwenlovesharrystyles @x-lulu @gviosca @cognacdelights​ @queenofallhobos​
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l-wannabe-l · 3 years
Text
Short Circuit
Chapter 1: First Impressions
During the events of T2 John's half-sister, Aria catches the attention of the T-1000. Having failed a second time Skynet starts targeting the people who will one day fight beside John.
T-1000/Austin x OC
This first chapter will follow the movie but it will start diverging soon. I'm still new to fanfic writing so feel free to leave a comment.
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It was gone.
Not in my closet or my drawers or under the bed.
It was gone.
The little money maker that I made and the little brat took it. I grab my cardigan and make my way out into the hallway. He's probably made it to the mall already (and he didn't even think to invite me), spending money that's not his. I mean it's not mine either but that's not the part I'm upset about. Knowing the way he drives on his bike I'll be lucky if the atm card is still working when I get it back. As I looked for my keys, they were RIGHT HERE I SWEAR, the doorbell rings. Seeing as it's not my house I don't go to answer. I hear the door open accompanied by a tired sigh.
Todd must've gotten it.
"Are you the legal guardian of John Connor?'
That's never a good question. I take a peek around the corner to glance at the man at the door. The first thing I notice is that he's wearing a police uniform. Yup, not good.
"That's right, officer. What's he done now?" A very valid question that the officer ignores as he seems to scan the house, pausing briefly as he spots me before turning his attention back to Todd.
"Could I speak with him please?"
"Could if he were here. Took off on his bike this morning so he could be anywhere." Todd answers with a shrug, clearly not giving two shits as Janelle joins him at the door.
"Do you have a photograph of John?"
"Yeah sure, hold on." She turns to grab her wallet and sees me hiding behind the corner. She looks at me expectedly probably thinking I know what's going on. I just shake my head. Like I would tell her even if I did know.
"You gonna tell me what this is about?" Todd tries asking again as Janelle rejoins them, handing off the picture.
"Just need to ask him a few questions. He's a good-looking boy. Do you mind if I keep this picture?" He asks as he studies the image.
"No, go on. There was a guy here this morning looking for him too." Janelle offers. This gets the officer's attention as I see him still and look back up. This surprises me too as I wasn't here in the morning and my foster parents apparently didn't think to tell me about some stranger looking for my little brother.
"Yeah, a big guy on a bike. That got something to do with this?" Todd adds. Dear God John, who are you getting involved with? The officer pauses for a moment before responding.
"No. I wouldn't worry about him. Thanks for your cooperation." He takes one last glance up in my direction. Our eyes meet. Only for a second before he's gone. But it's long enough to send a chill down my spine. Police officer or not that man is dangerous and he's heading straight for John. When John fails to answer his phone, that I got him by the way, I hurry to find my keys and make my way outside. The cop had left. He'll have to ask around to find John which should buy me some time.
It's a bit of a distance to get to the mall and the traffic of a Saturday afternoon doesn't help but I make it. I head towards the arcade on the second floor but have to backtrack around a corner when I spot the officer from earlier talking to some kids.
Christ, he works fast. This man really takes his job seriously.
The kids seem not to know anything as the man continues on and out of sight… in the direction of the arcade. DAMN IT. I hurry after hoping he'd walk past it which he does. I slow down to look through the windows hoping to catch a glimpse of John.
"Excuse me, have you seen…"
Stopped by the entrance I turn to look at the speaker realizing too late my mistake as I'm face to face with the very man I was avoiding. Because of the close proximity, I notice he's tall, and with a square jaw, bright blue eyes, and soft-looking light brown hair, he's handsome too. This is bad for me, because tall and handsome have gotten me in trouble before and I will not let it do so again. But he's staring, obviously recognizing me from not even an hour ago, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Lo siento señor no hablo ingles."
His brow furrowed in confusion which I take as my cue to leave. So with an "Adios!" I duck into the arcade, send a quick thank you to my high school Spanish classes, and hide behind the first big machine I find. From there I see him enter the arcade looking left and right, scanning as he did earlier, before turning to a pair of girls by a pinball machine. I turn away to go find John eventually finding him playing Afterburner.
"JOHN!"
"AAHH!"
"A cop is looking for you, what did you do?" He spares me a glance before returning to his game.
"... Is this because I took the card machine? Listen Aria, I'm sorry but mine broke."
"I am pissed about that but no."
"Is it cause I didn't invite you? In my defense, you weren't home."
"John..." I begin when Tim, John's buddy, slides up to us.
"John, hey there's this cop scoping for you, check it out." That got his attention, and let me be upset for a second as he takes a look around Tim and the machine to see the officer questioning another kid who points in our direction. John grabs his backpack, I grab John and we both head towards the employee door briefly looking back to see the officer pushing kids aside to catch up. I open the door and push John ahead of me, both of us running.
"So you'll listen to Tim but not to me?"
"Tim never messed with me about surprise police inspections." Ever since we were young mom drilled into us that the police were bad news and, like the caring and protective big sister that I am, I decided to add to this training. Suffice to say John tends to double guess me now and then.
"That's fair." Turning the corner we surprise a worker who yells at us and who we ignore as we push through the exit doors. That's when we turn to see a large man in a leather jacket and sunglasses and I freeze up as he opens the box to pull out a shotgun the roses he was carrying crushed beneath him as he advances. John pulls me back the way we came, the man following as we try the other doors.
Locked.
Trapped.
I chance a glance back to see he’s caught up with us. Another look forward reveals the officer appearing through the doorway, with a glare almost as menacing as the gun. I hear a click and a look back shows the shotgun has been leveled at us.
“Get down.”
What?
"ARIA!"
Lucky for me John has the good sense to listen to the man as he ducks down pulling me with him. I cover him as gunshots ring above us. I look up to see the officer blasted back a few inches, silver wounds appearing where red ones should be. The man in leather grabs us, spinning to cover us as the cop starts emptying his clip at us. I hear the poor employee from earlier scream in pain as he gets caught in the crossfire.
John and I scream, fear gripping us.
The bullet fire pauses for a moment giving our (definitely not) human shield the opportunity to bust open the door to our left and push us in. He turns away just in time for the officer to finish reloading but is undeterred by the bullets finding a home in his torso as he continues his march forward. He levels his own gun, shotgun shells flying as he blasts one after another pushing the smaller man back until he falls and our savior is allowed to reload. As he does so the silver gaps fill in and the man rises from where he lay grabbing the gun and catching the bigger man off guard as he tries and fails to gain back control. So instead he moves to grab the cop but is instead thrown into one wall then another. Cement and plaster alike collapsing in their struggle until they both disappear through a wall.
Despite the obvious difference in size, the larger man is the one being thrown around like a ragdoll which spells bad news for us. So I grab John again, pulling him behind me as I head towards the door that leads to a staircase. We head down until we reach ground level, the parking lot, we run over to John’s bike, an old thing that was mine before I handed it down when I got a new one. Trying to start it up now I remember why I upgraded.
“John, your bike is a hunk of junk!”
“It was your bike first! Just start it already!” The engine finally starts running just as the doors burst open. The cop racing after us on foot as we speed off.
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Text
The Jealous Type
Part 2 of Tsukishima x Reader Pierced by Cupid
A/n: Someone asked from more, and honestly Tsukki is one of my favs so, I love him and my readers. I’m a simple being. 
Best to listen to: WTF by HUGEL
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The room was filled with gentle and calming lofi music as the two boys studied and did their homework, sitting across from each other at a table on Tsukishima’s floor. Y/n let his leg shake under the table, trying desperately to focus and Tsukishima called out answers once in a while. Because of a pretty bad storm that suddenly rolled through, all after school activities were canceled. 
Volleyball had already been canceled because both coach Ukai and Takeda were sick so Tsukishima planned to stay after with his boyfriend, Y/n. But the announcement came late and they had to run back to Tsukishima’s house since Y/n’s house was too far to walk alone, along with the wind being too fast and the rain pouring down in buckets.
It seemed Tsukishima’s mother was more excited about Y/n staying over for the night than Tsukishima was, which was embarrassing to the tall boy but Y/n said he was happy that she allowed him to stay. They had been dating now for just over a month so the Tsukishima family knew Y/n well at this point, him having stayed over many times.
Both had taken a shower and bath one they got inside, separately of course, and since Y/n had no spare clothes Tsukishima died inside while looking on at Y/n drowning in his large clothes. Tsukishima suggested studying just to get his mind off the fact that not only was his adorable boyfriend alone with him in his bedroom, but also wearing his clothes.
Tsukishima knew studying the traditional way was difficult for Y/n, but he never made fun of him for it despite Y/n himself laughing at himself. There was some teasing here and there, but Tsukishima made very sure not to push it too far.
Take this moment for instance, as they sat across from each other, Tsukishima glanced up and saw Y/n distracted. 
Again. 
Y/n's eyes journeyed around Tsukishima's room, curious of every little thing despite having been in his room many times. His head booped to the music meaning he was slightly aware of his surroundings, but soon Y/n's eyes went still and his body froze. 
'Finally fully zoned out' Tsukishima thought, quietly deciding to clean his and Y/n's papers up. He knew there was no real focus after Y/n fully zoned out, as it would take him a while to get out of that head space. He did this often, but Tsukishima noticed it was only when he was completely comfortable that he fully spaced out. His eyes would dilate and his body would be still, breathing as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. These zone outs could last a minuet to 5, which at first made Tsukishima confused, but he soon came to love it as it was just another quirk of his boyfriend.
Y/n stayed frozen as Tsukishima cleaned up their studies and made his bed, since his boyfriend was sleeping over and looking at the clock, it was already pretty late. When Y/n would come over, Tsukishima never brought out a futon. Always making the excuse that it was too much work, but both boys knew it was just his way of saying he liked sleeping together.
Tsukishima just got the table put away when Y/n's eyes blinked and he took in a deep breath and looked around, Tsukishima put a hand on his hip and smirked at Y/n. 
"Welcome back."
Y/n groaned and fell back to the floor, covering his face with his hands. 
"Ugh, I did it again."
"Yep."
"Why didn't you wake me?" Y/n dropped his hands and looked up at his boyfriend with guilt, Tsukishima however just shrugged, taking off his glasses and laying down in his bed. 
"I needed an excuse to stop studying anyway." He said lazily, settling himself under the sheets.
"EH!?" Y/n launched himself to his feet, stomping and glaring at his boyfriend. Tsukishima laid with his back turned to Y/n to hide the smirk he had on his face, thrilled by Y/n reaction to his teasing. "Am I just an excuse to you?!" Y/n growled, knowing full well he wasn't and meant more than that to Tsukishima, but he couldn't help but take the bait. 
Tsukishima pretended to snore, ignoring Y/n, who huffed in response. For a moment he just tapped his foot on the floor like an upset rabbit, Tsukishima having to cover his mouth not to laugh. Tsukishima then felt the rustle of his blankets then a weight behind him on the bed, small hand curling up on his back while a leg was thrown over his waist. 
They stayed like this for only a moment before Tsukishima turned around and completely enveloped Y/n, one arm under his head, the other round his waist, and both his legs wrapped around him making their legs a tangled mess. 
Both quickly got settled and breathed together, Y/n's head close to Tsukishima's chest while Tsukishima settled his chin on the top of Y/n's head. 
Sleep came quickly for both. 
-----------
Biiiizzzz
Biiiiiiizzzzz
Biiiizzzzz
Biiiizzz
Biiiizzzz
Biiiizzz
Biiiiizzz
Biiiizzzzz--
"Ugh…" 
Tsukishima squinted a glare over his shoulder at the blinking light of his phone on his desk, curling closer around Y/n in hopes the buzzing of his phone will just stop. 
...
'Thank god it--'
Briiiing! Briiiing~!
Briiiing! Briiiing~!
"Ugh!!" He growled, unwillingly untangling himself from his peacefully sleeping boyfriend, sliding out of bed and going over to his desk. Picking up his glasses and putting them one, he opened his phone to see 10+ messages and 3 missed calls. "Give me a break…" He muttered, opening his messages to the Karasuno Volleyball group chat. 
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Tsukishima growled and typed out his answer. 
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Tsukishima rolled his eyes. Though this was true, glancing over his shoulder watching Y/n snuggle deeper into the covers and turning over to continue his sleep, he didn't want his team to think Y/n kept him home.
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He then silenced his phone, took off his glasses, and walked straight back over to his bed. He then basically crushed Y/n underneath him, tightly keeping him close to his chest. Y/n made a small whine but quickly adjusted and went back to sleep, Tsukishima taking in a deep breath of his scent and let out a large sigh from his nose, closely following behind his boyfriend in sleep. 
Obviously, they could not sleep all day, required school and all that. When both arrived at school it was already close to lunch, it was also clear to anyone that knew the two boys that they were somewhere together before school. The remaining classes they had before lunch went on normal, they both acted natural as if they were only acquaintances or just mediocre friends. 
Neither of them were really ready to make their relationship public, so when I came to being in public there was no PDA at all. They were both okay with this and no one was the wiser.
That was until lunch came around. 
"Y/N-CHAN!!!"
Y/n, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi all looked over to the classroom door to see the same peppy girl who was apparently friends with Y/n. He explained they live near each other and were an unlikely pair of friends since young. 
"If you can call it that." Y/n said, scratching his head. 
"What do you mean?" Yamaguchi asked, the three of them walking home all together. Y/n let out a sigh before answering. 
"Well, in all honesty, I don't really see us as friends. She is more of a person who talks to me, or tries to, often. I don’t really make an effort to see or talk to her."
"Do you even like her?" Tsukishima questioned, knowing that his curiosity might be taken as jealousy, which it wasn't.
"... Not really?" Y/n shrugged. "I don't want to be mean to her though, she's a nice girl… I think? Either way, we just don't have that much in common so… I don't know why she still talks to me."
"Nachi-san, hello." Y/n said slowly, both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi seeing his increasing uncomfortable pose from her sudden appearance and loud voice. 
She smiled brightly at him, then pulled out her bento from behind her back. 
"Let's eat together! It's been awhile!"
Y/n looked between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, almost in a silent cry of help before turning back to the girl without looking her in the eyes. 
"Well, um… I'm having lunch with my friends--"
"L/n-kun?"
The group of teens once again turned their sights to the classroom door, this time it was the archery club faculty teacher so Y/n stood up from his seat. 
"Yes, sensei?"
"Can you come with me for lunch? We have things to discuss about your club, nothing is wrong so don't worry."
The teacher's smile was far more gentle than Nachi's and Y/n took his own bento and nodded to the teacher, then looked at Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. 
"Uhm… Sorry, guys."
"No worries, N/n." Yamaguchi reassured with a smile. "Do what you need to."
With that Y/n nodded and left with the teacher, leaving an uncomfortable silence between the two boys and the girl they didn't know anything about other than what Y/n said. She turned to them both, trying (and failing) to hide the fact she was looking them up and down. She gave them both a large fake smile, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi likened it to a wild animal baring its teeth to show strength. 
"So, you two are friends with Y/n-chan?"
Both were silent, Yamaguchi was slightly scared while Tsukishima was annoyed, he could tell where this was going and certainly didn’t think he had the patience for it. 
"And?" Tsukishima snapped back, then gave his own condescending smile. "Who are you?"
Her face seemed to flush slightly in anger, seeing that her presence was only making one of the boys fearful of her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, a stiff smile on her face now.
"I'm his best friend."
"Oh? That's odd," Tsukishima said, giving her a smug look as he smirked her way. "Usually best friends talk about each other. I've never heard of you."
She growled and slammed her free hand on the table glaring at Tsukishima, Yamaguchi jumped in his seat and shivered. He was not a fan of being in the middle of a fight between a jealous girl and Tsukishima, he knew how ruthless Tsukishima could be when he wanted to and the girl seemed just straight up crazy.
“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi whispers, but was ignored.
"Listen here, four eyes, " she sneered at Tsukishima. "Y/n and I are meant to be, and you are taking up too much of his time. Stay away from my Y/n-chan."
While raising a brow and not missing a beat, Tsukishima then stood up out of his seat, easily towering over her which made her flinch back a little but still glaring. Tsukishima's expression held only a smugness his enemies have seen, his eyes looking down on her like she was merely a stick at his feet. 
"I see. You have a pathetic crush on a boy who barely even knows you exist, and the only time he does is when you scream in his ears." Tsukishima let out a small chuckle, slightly covering his mouth while continuing. 
"Like a small Chihuahua."
Yamaguchi couldn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth in time, and the girl's face flourished into a beat red. She huffed and stormed out of the room, not before Tsukishima picked up her bento by the tie and waved it. 
"Chihuahua! You forgot your puppy chow!"
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Neither Yamaguchi nor Tsukishima told Y/n about what happened with the girl, both not willing to give her any more thought than they have. They did wonder, however, if she had acted this way towards anyone else who considered themselves friends with the archer boy, wondering if that is why he had so little friends before they had met. 
Volleyball had once again been cancelled due to the coach and Takeda still being sick, so Tsukishima and Yamaguchi made plans to stay after to watch Y/n's archery practice. What they didn't expect was the volleyball team overhearing and all of them deciding to go to the archery club. 
Tsukishima just wanted time with his boyfriend but it seemed the world had other plans. When the team walked into the gym, Tsukishima held in a groan at the one person he didn't want to see again. Nachi was fixing her hair up in her phone camera and turned to the sound of the gym door opening, not holding back a groan upon seeing Tsukishima. 
"Ugh, it's you."
Tsukishima gave a fake smile. 
"It's me."
The whole team could practically feel the electric-like tension between the two, and before anyone of a more sane mind could say anything, a couple of wild second years set it off. 
"Oh~? You know our lanky middle blocker?"
Tsukishima glared at Tanaka, muttering 'I'm not lanky' and the girl scuffed and flipped her hair in the team's direction. 
"Barely, he's just a cockroach I found around Y/n-chan during lunch, him and the freckle boy over there." She smirked at the team, then turned her back to them. "And it seems the cockroach caused an infestation to appear in Y/n-chan’s club, how horrific."
"HUH?!" Both Tanaka and Nishinoya were taken back and angered by her words, the rest of the team were just surprised at her bitter attitude towards them. Yamaguchi hid more behind Tsukishima who stood tall looking down his nose at her, not at all fased by her egregious  petty behaviour. Sugawara, being the nice individual he was, chuckled and brushed the back of his head with a gentle smile. 
"Uh, well, I'm sorry for any incon-"
"I don't care what you guys do," She cut it, making the whole team feral at the mear audacity to cut off Sugawara. She turned her head over her shoulder and glared harshly at the team. 
"Just stay away from Y/n."
Before anyone could say anything more, the other gym door opened up and in walked Y/n with an arm full of bow sticks and a bag full of bow strings. Unaware of what just happened, he flinched a little at the sight of more people in the gym. 
A couple of first years came around the corner with Y/n, 2 second years, and a third year all standing behind him. 
"Am I gonna need more bows, aren't I?" Y/n sighed with a weak smile, looking to Tsukishima only to see his eyes holding pure annoyance. “Uhm, is something wrong?”
“Yes--” But Tsukishima was cut off by the shrill peppy voice of Nachi, which made him glare at the back of her head.
“Nothing at all Y/n-chan! Are we going to archery now?”
Y/n walked into the gym, setting the things he was carrying gently down on a laid out table, then turned back to Nachi with a blank face.
“Do you mean, ‘are we going to begin archery now’?”
“ Same thing!” She waved off, picking up the nearest bow, which happened to be Y/n’s personal bow. It was a shiny dark blue with specks of gold on the back of the limbs, grip was pitch black speckled with white, and the belly was a pure white while the tips were dipped in gold. The bow string was also gold and shined in the light, even those unfamiliar with a bow would stand in awe of it’s beauty.
“Wait!” Y/n then snatched it out of Nachi’s hands and slightly glared at her. “You guys are going to be setting up your own bows!”
“What kind of archery is this?” Kinoshita wondered out loud, which made Y/n smile brightly, eager to teach anyone about his beloved hobby. 
“Chinese Archery! Westerner bows, things like compound bows, aren’t allowed here unfortunately.” Y/n then looked off with a blush, scratching his head with a meek expression. “I … found that out the hard way.”
Y/n then gently set down his bow on the table, moving to the side of the table and waving an arm to it. He smiled at everyone there, excited to finally have people interested in archery, unknowing of the tension caving in the gym created by a jealous girl and an irritated boyfriend. Even the seven individuals not on the volleyball team could feel the tension, wondering if they should have all come on a different day.
“Take a bow and a string and let’s begin our lessons!” Y/n exclaimed excitedly, Nachi making an effort to be the first to grab one and stand close to him after.
“Oh boy…” Daichi sighed, beginning to walk over to the table with the rest of the team.
“This will be interesting.” Sugawara stated, not at all being genuine and also sighing at the glare the first year girl sent him.
-----------
"I still don't think I get it." Nachi said with a pout, looking at her long time crush with ‘innocent’ eyes.
"Umm… Well, that's fine… Despite me having explained it 7 times, I guess I can explain it again."
Everyone who was not  Y/n or Nachi groaned in their heads, all only thinking one thing. 
"She's so desperate."
"Pst, Tsukishima."
Tsukishima turned to Sugawara, who was waving him over and huddled with the rest of the team. He walked over, placing his bow down and joining the huddle.
"What is with that girl?" Sugawara said bluntly, giving a weak smile and tired eyes, Nishinoya next to speak. 
"Yeah, and what'd you do to make her so pissy?"
"I hate to say it," Yachi spoke up softly, nodding. "but she's really… Mean."
"That's putting it lightly." Kiyoko crossed her arms, glancing over at poor Y/n who once again went over the proper way to hold the bow and arrow and releasing said arrow. 
"Tsukishima," Asahi raised his hand, his attitude turning weary and timid. "you didn't actually do anything mean to her… Did you?"
The whole team then turned their eyes to the tall middle blocker, all knowing full well of his treatment of others, who in turn rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 
"As if I'd give someone like her the time of day."
"She has a crush on Y/n… which is obvious to anyone but him..." Yamaguchi explained. "And apparently we've been taking up too much of his time."
"I just told her that her crush on him was pathetic." Tsukishima shrugged. "It's her fault for getting pissy over the truth."
Sugawara sighed out loud while the team captain put his face into his palm, Asahi mumbling that that might be too much. The relatively quiet second years all shook their head, regretting agreeing to tagging along to this archery club. Kageyama for once nodded with Tsukishima, making Hinata back away from him in shock.
“You agree?!” Hinata exclaimed, kageyama glared at him.
“Not like I would want to, but he’s right.” He then crossed his arms. “Why go after someone who’s already in a relationship? Why would anyone want Y/n anyway?”
“Careful King,” Tsukishima glared. “You’re on thin ice.”
“No, I’m on hardwood.” Kageyama said blankly, Suga clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh while he looked at Daichi who was looking up at the ceiling like he was ready for God to take him.
"Oooooohhh!!" Tanaka exclaimed, then smirked and slapped Tsukishima on the back. "So you're just as mad she is!"
"Why would I be?" He straightened back up, readjusting his glasses as Sugawara smiled.
"You are his boyfriend after all-"
Suddenly there was the sound of an arrow meeting its target, everyone in the gym looked and saw Nachi (the girl they had been talking about) nailed a bullseye. 
"Wow, you finally got it." Y/n congratulated, too caught up in the fact that he was being a good teacher and how he really was good at archery to notice the glare she gave the volleyball team. "Good job, Nachi."
The four first years, two seconds years, and the one third year were all close to the team when they were talking, and when the team looked at all of them, they all just nod in silent agreement. 
"She's crazy."
-------------
"Sooo… How long has she been friends with you, L/n-san?"
Hinata broke the thick ice of silence that took over the group as they all walked home, the club having ended and all going home now. 
"Maybe since I was… 8?"
"Wah-!" Kageyama slapped his hand over Hinata's mouth to keep him from yelling in Y/n's ears, letting someone else finish for him. 
"That's quite a while." Daichi finished, Y/n shrugging. 
"She's really only the one talking, I never really had any other friends."
"Wonder why…" Tsukishima let out of his mouth before he could stop it, getting a punch in the shoulder from Sugawara. Y/n laughed though, thinking it was a joke, which made Tsukishima smirk at his senior. 
"Yeah, she's… Her."
"Wow," Tsukishima drawed. "What an extensive vocabulary."
Y/n bows. 
"Thank you."
"So why do you still talk to her?" Ennoshita asked, jumping as all eyes went to him. "I mean, isn't it just normal to not talk to someone you don't like?"
"I just… Don't want to be mean." Y/n said once again, making Tsukishima roll his eyes. Y/n pushed on his shoulder and shook his head with a small smile.
“Of course you wouldn’t have trouble being mean.”
“Yeah, Tsukki is always mean.” Hinata said, flinching and put up his hands to protect himself as Tsukishima turned and glared down at him.
“She’ll get the hint soon enough.” Tsukishima said, which made Asahi flinch back and look at him in fear.
“You make it sound like you’ll kill her…”
All goes silent as they continue walking, no one saying a word after, not before Y/n jumps up and smacks Tsukishima on the back of the head.
“No killing!”
------------
“At lunch?” Y/n tilted his head in confusion. “I was going to have lunch with you anyway, but… is Yama-chan not coming?”
“No, I have to talk to you in private about something.” Tsukishima said, not hiding his voice at all. “Just meet me behind your archery gym, got it?”
Y/n, still confused, nods his head, finally going off to the group he was assigned to from a project in their class. Tsukishima looked out the corner of his eye and saw her, having known she was listening. He turned and gave her a fake smile, closing his eyes with ‘content’.
“Please don’t follow like the stalker you are making yourself out to be, it will ruin my appetite more than it already has.”
Nachi, having just been standing outside their classroom, swiveled on her feet with anger and stomped off. Both teens knew she was going to try and make it a coincidence she just ‘happened’ to be at their meeting place when they would talk, not that she was going to listen or anything.
Once lunch came around, Tsukishima made it very obvious they were going off to eat, totally aware of a jealous girl glaring daggers into his back.
Perfect.
Nachi had no idea what Tsukishima had been planning on talking about with Y/n, but she would not let it stand. She had said before, that these new ‘friends’ of Y/n’s were taking up her quality time with Y/n, and she didn’t like it at all. 
Nachi didn’t understand Y/n at all, one minute he’s hyper focused on something or a topic, then the next he’s spacing out or talking about something new. He was someone she couldn’t understand, but she liked it. She didn’t get why he would flinch at her voice or avoid her physical contact, but that’s what made him interesting. He wasn’t like other boys in her grade.
Now placed behind the gym, Tsukishima stood tall in front of a still very confused Y/n, all while a certain girl hid around the corner to eavesdrop.
“So… what is it you wanted to talk about?” Y/n asked, looking around and sweating a bit. “You’re making me all nervous.”
“I love you, Y/n.” Tsukishima said casually, as if it was as easy as breathing and not the first time he had ever mentioned the word love.
Y/n’s eyes went wide, mouth open and body stone still as his boyfriends words echoed in his head. It was silent between the two, before Y/n spoke in a quiet whisper.
“... What?”
“I love you,” Tsukishima said again, raising his brow. “Do I need to show you?”
Before Y/n could even begin to process what was happening, Tsukishima cupped his hands on Y/n’s face and leaned down, sweetly and gently connecting his lips to Y/n’s. Even though Y/n was still in a cloud of confusion and pure bliss, he quickly responded by holding on to Tsukishima’s uniform and returning the kiss tenfold.
With Y/n’s eyes closed, taking in the sweet romantic moment, he didn’t notice Tsukishima’s eyes were open and glazing behind Y/n at a girl who hid behind a corner. She was in shock, pure and utter shock, unable to admit this was happening.
Tsukishima then pulled apart from Y/n, looking down and seeing his flushed face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks on his hands. He smirked and raised a brow at Y/n.
“Not going to say it back?” He asked jokingly, but Y/n was far in his bliss.
“Say it again.” Y/n almosted sounded like he was begging, which made Tsukishims’s smirk wider.
“I love you, Y/n.”
Y/n’s lips formed a radiate smile as he looked up at Tsukishima.
“I love you too, Kei.” 
Y/n then leaned in and hugged Tsukishima with every bit of love in him and then some. Tsukishima hugging right back. Glazing back up at the corner, he now saw the girl no longer hiding and standing only a few feet away.
She looked angry, sad, horrified all at the same time, and Tsukishima’s response?
“How much do you love me?”
Y/m hummed into Tsukishima’s chest.
“To the moon and stars…”
“And?” Tsukishima pressed, watching as the girl began to shake in what he could only assume was anger.
“And even further beyond that,” Y/n looked up at Tsukishima, smiling when Tsukishima smiled back. “As the universe, my love is never ending.”
She was gone when Tsukishima looked back up, and he took this moment to actually soak in the embrace of his boyfriend.
“What was this all for anyway?” Y/n questioned, finally allowing them both to pull apart and begin to eat their lunch. “Not that I don’t like it, just… you aren’t like this in public.”
“Felt like it.” Tsukishima replied, beginning to eat while Y/n rolled his eyes.
“Well, if that’s all it takes,” Y/n turned and smiled at his boyfriend. “I hope you feel like it more often.”
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