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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

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Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)

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~

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volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*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

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #mike zacharias x reader #snk fanfic #the smut pile collab

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stevenbasic · 3 years ago

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So far AJ’s day, his first at this new job, had been predictably miserable. He figured that was sort of normal, kinda expected. He’d been his own boss, owner of his own little construction firm for years, so going back to being a manual labor grunt for someone else again was sure to feel like ten steps in the wrong direction. But working on a demo team for a bunch of girls? The women, the company that had put him out of business? That was turning out to be particularly soul-sucking and demeaning work. But, hey, a buck’s a buck and he needed as many of those as he could muster these days. His saving grace was, with a little effort keeping his head down, that he could remain faceless and anonymous and just do his work. The morning had been spent taking down some walls in the area of the building that was to be the new wing. He’d sat by himself for his meager lunch outside - his buddies, guys that used to work for him, were on another team entirely, at another site - and he had now this afternoon been asked to step into the doctor's office area to look at some venting. Privately, he leapt at the chance: maybe he’d be able to see Angie. Or, for that matter, catch a glimpse of - or even meet - that statuesque, brunette boss of hers, her friend Melissa...

He was in luck.

“Oh! H-hey, hun,” AJ said, acting surprised to bump into his girlfriend, Angie, as he turned the corner in the back hallway. He’d already checked out what he’d needed to see, looked at the thermostats, and had been sort of aimlessly drifting around, avoiding others, waiting for just this moment. He managed what he hoped was a casual smile. “Funny meeting you here haha,” he joked, wiping plaster dust from his forehead, “H-how’s the first day?”

At first, Angie looked surprised to see him, too - eyes widening. But she didn’t even give him a word of greeting before her eyes flashed, her smile grew into a grin, and she bit her lower lip. Looking behind herself, down the hall, checking if they’d be seen, she then suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his green, grime-covered t-shirt and pulled him aside. “Here, let’s go in here-“ she said, opening the door to a supply closet and yanking him into it. She shut the door behind them and flipped on a switch.

“Hey wow..!” AJ exclaimed, eyes immediately going wide in pleasant surprise, “Nice to see you too!”

The switch she had hit had turned on an overhead fluorescent, which was just flickering to life. “Shush,” she said, locking the door, “The last thing I need is someone to see us together.” She’d just gotten out of lunch, where all the office girls had assembled, crowded into the too-small breakroom for a welcome meeting. She’d had a few great little chats and was just really beginning to grasp what was going on here, what she was now part of. It was thrilling and her blood was still on fire from the excitement, the potential. Yes yes yes...female empowerment, sisters united, blah blah blah. But there was opportunity here for her.

She’d just been headed to her new temporary, makeshift desk in accounting when she ran into her, well, boyfriend. Though AJ was here doing some work for the construction company hired to renovate the building, she really didn’t want to be seen with him. Things were too big here, there was too much at stake for her to risk getting muddled down by, well, him. “I can’t be the girl dating the hired help,” she said, not smiling, but her heart still thumping.

“Hey, that hurt..!” AJ remarked, taken a bit aback by her bluntness but trying to laugh. Angie looked so good in her short, floral dress, boobs big and on display. “How’s the first day?” he repeated.

Angie faced AJ, mind still swimming with the excitement from the meeting and an electric, estrogen-fueled energy. “Eh, sort of chaotic, with all these new girls, there’s not enough space for us all until the new wing is ready,” she answered, looking him up and down. She’d seen him in his construction gear countless times before, but here - on the job, dirty, as a low-level grunt - he just looked so plebeian. And too tall. “I got to meet the doctor, this morning,” she said, feeling her eyes sparkle and the enthusiasm in her voice, “he’s sooo vulni…”

He’d heard that term before, and he knew how girls were all starting to like that: small, weak, vulnerable men. It had been why she’d had him stop going to the gym, eat less, get skinnier. He thought she liked it, though it never seemed as if it was quite enough for her; he was still tall and lanky, and he felt she’d actually like it if he was somehow smaller than her, shorter than her, weighed less than her. That was the fad, these days, and Angie was into it. But he’d never heard that weird tone in her voice when talking about another guy, not in all the months they’d been together. Here in the supply closet he felt the first pangs of jealousy, starting in his stomach, and it was envy for Angie’s new boss. Not because he was successful, a doctor, and was her superior here (though Ang probably loved that too), but because he was so “vulni” . As he watched her face, seeing how she talked about this guy, the sensation grew heavier, and worked its way up to his throat.

“He was hiding, totally hiding, in his office. But I went in and met him,” she said, “he looked like a kid sitting at a big-boy desk. He was afraid to stand up in front of me, but I bet I’d be taller than him in my heels…”

There it is, AJ thought.

“Your friend Melissa probably has him by more than a foot, then,” AJ blurted, smiling but speaking before thinking and immediately regretting it as Angie’s eyes narrowed, analyzing him. His grin disappeared as her expression changed.

“Yeaaaaah...have you noticed?” she continued, still watching his face, “a lot of the girls here are tall. They’re all hot…”

Smart enough at least for this moment, AJ held his tongue. Saying too much would just dig him deeper into the hole that he was apparently already in.

Angie still looked at her boyfriend of these many months, her smile crooked, and considered him. He’d always felt like she could read his mind, and seemed to be doing it now. She knew what he wanted. “Take off your shirt,” she instructed, hands on her wide hips.

Without as much as a thought, AJ was peeling himself out of his dusty work tee, revealing his trim, lean torso, his ink. Angie’s eyes immediately drifted from his still-defined abs, up his chest and went to the new tattoo on his throat, her name: “Angie Wade”. She reached out and gently caressed it.

“Yeah, he’s surrounded by women here, pretty women,” she continued, once again talking about this dude that AJ was starting to like less and less, “Lots of them are taller than him, walking around in their pumps, their high wedge sandals.” Her hand drifted up to cup the right side of his face, tenderly, watching how her words affected him. “They’re all ditzes, but they adore him,” she said, her expression still hard for him to read, “Imagine that? Imagine being surrounded by huge, brainless bimbos that all love and adore you and just want to get into your pants? I’ll bet he loves it. God that’s so hot.”

AJ, still knowing he shouldn’t say a word, just watched her as she looked at him. Despite his rising jealousy - what kind of girlfriend talks about another guy like this? - he was starting to feel himself hardening between his legs. He had no idea what she was thinking, what she was doing (or why she’d had him take off his shirt) but there were gears turning in her head, for sure.

“And,” she pressed on, “his office is smaller - a lot smaller - than hers. The way she was talking today, you’d have trouble knowing exactly who was in charge, here...” Angie’s left hand had settled behind AJ’s shaved head, holding it, and her right was now resting lightly on his chest. The feel of her soft palm on his shaved skin was exciting him. “...But I’m going to find out. There’s something going on under the surface here, something big. Here. Sit-“

At that, Angie pushed his chest, forcing him to half-sit back on the low shelving unit behind him. He knocked over a couple reams of paper towels, but was left with his eyes at just about boob-level.

She stepped in close.

“Lunch, with all the girls,” Angie continued, smiling again as his eyes settled right into her cleavage, “There was so much estrogen in the air, what with all the laughing and rah-rah cheering for this new place. Most of the girls here are morons, but damn if they aren’t hooked up to the right train, as things are going to be changing.”

She was talking almost to herself, he thought, while he knew he was being so passively quiet. He struggled to think of something to say. “Wow, Ang,” AJ finally spoke, “your tits look really big today.”

Angie chuckled, took a casually deep breath for him.”He’s a boob-guy, just like you,” she mused, reveling in the gift of her naturally big, full bosom, with its perfect, milky skin, “so, yeah, I wanted show them off…think he’ll like me?”

The jealousy continued to sit with him, inside his throat, tightening.

“Well, uh, y-yeah, of course,” he managed, figuring he should be supportive rather than risking her ire by sounding indignant. “Wh-what are they going to have you doing?”

“I’m going to be working with Kathy, this lady reassigned from some pharmaceutical company, to help run the practice’s accounting,” Angie continued, “Technically she’s my immediate boss, for the time being. But it’s okay, for now. She actually sounds like she has half a brain.” Her hand went up onto the side of his head, stroked his scalp leisurely, kept his gaze focused where she wanted it. “If I play my cards right, I’ll get hooked up doing financials for this study, with all the money coming in from the grants,” she said, her tone aggressively self-assured, “I’m going to be on it, totally in the right place, when things go down. Meet the right people, rise up the ranks, make more and more money…”

This was...yikes, wow...really turning him on. Secretly he loved hearing Angie embellish her own ego like this. Her boastful narcissism - she was constantly convinced that she was the smartest person in the room - was just always so hot to him. And he wasn’t nearly sure what she was talking about, but he loved how excited she sounded and how, in the face of his recent career troubles, how powerful she wanted to become. When had he gotten this way? When had he gotten to be such a junkie for the, well, submissive thrill he felt hearing a woman talk about being smart, successful...superior?

“Yeah, well, t-they’ve given me some responsibility too…” he found himself saying, maybe out of a reflexive knee-jerk reaction, some male pride bubbling weakly to the surface, “They’re having us tear out the old HVAC systems, and have me inspecting the venting, some of the thermostats...” Angie was letting him talk, possessively stroking his head, so he just continued. “Supposedly they’re putting in a new central one that’ll handle the whole building,” he explained, “be able to put some sort of aromatherapy into it. Weird, huh?”

“Aromatherapy, huh?” Angie asked, her interest piqued - and betrayed by a new purr, “In the air-conditioning?” She continued to pet his head, and drew in a little closer to him as she thought to herself. “Can you find out...any more about that for me?“

“Oh, uh, yeah...sure…” he agreed, though not really sure what he could do. Lots of this project seemed so under-wraps, at least from the guys. He hadn’t laid eyes on much in the way of blueprints or tech sheets or whatever.

“Good boy…” she praised, speaking plainly, “pull down your pants.”

Suddenly, AJ’s heart leapt. Was he about to get some?? Here in a storage closet?? Ha he’d take anything he could get these days, he thought to himself as he clumsily unzipped his thick, loose-fit utility pants, started to pull them down.

“B-boxers too?” he asked.

“Sure,” Angie allowed, and in a moment they were down at his knees, too. His erection already stood proud; of that he was glad. He wanted her to know how much she turned him on. But, then he thought - how had they gotten here? Didn’t she used to be the swooning drama nerd in high school, who’d barely been on his radar? The one who used to have the crush on him??

“A-Angie…?” he began.

“Shush, quiet,” she said, “grab your cock.”

“Wh-what?” he stammered, knowing exactly what she wanted him to do, “n-no I’m not going to, like, j-jerk off here in a cl-“

“Yes you will,” she stated, her confidence only making him harder, as she physically took his hand and planted it on his erection, balling it into a fist around his turgid shaft, “because you're submissive, just like him, and you’ll do exactly what I say...just like he will, some day.”

”I-I’m n-not,,,’submissive’..!” he bristled, male ego once again raising its battered head in the face of insult and jealousy. Like, what did she mean, ‘just like he will’??

“Okay sure, you’re not submissive,” she chuckled, laughing unpleasantly at his little snit, “prove it.”

With that, Angie took AJ’s full head between her hands, palms on his face and manicured fingers stretching back behind his head, and faced him solidly into her plumply bulging cleavage.

“Now stroke,” she directed, and to his own aghast he couldn’t help but obey. He’d been conditioned, over these past months, helpless when confronted by her, powerless to defy her will...especially when she used her tits. What was wrong with him??? In his hand, with his eyes plastered on the pale, soft flesh of her big breasts, his cock suddenly became even more needy, ached immediately for release. He groaned, both in spleen at himself and this crippling arousal.

She laughed again. “Not submissive, hm?” she purred, “Look at you. You're totally dominated by women. You’re working for women now, you do everything women tell you to do. At the job here, in bed with me…”

”hey..!” he began to protest, eyes rising for the moment, looking for hers, “I thought you liked-”

“Oh, I do, we all do,” she capitulated, shaking her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, redirecting his gaze back to her chest, “we love when the roles start reversing like this. Like you, getting to be my little bitch.”

“h-h-heyyyy…” he began to protest, but his voice faded, most of his fight lost between her E-cups.

“Aww, don’t feel badly,” she said, “I’ve been reading up on this. I really think men in general are getting more submissive, turning more beta, just watching as women take charge more. The doctor here included. Look what he’s done - or let happen. This whole place is run by girls.”

“H-h-huh…” AJ stammered dumbly, not even realizing he’d fallen into a rhythm, stroking himself, staring at Angie’s breasts.

“This is my chance, to get in, to take my piece,” she pronounced, ego swelling her bosom like a deep breath, “I’m so fucking alpha, I could run this place.”

”oh, uh, y-yeah..?” he spoke, bewitched and befuddled by every ripple and jiggle under her skin.

“You men like me to be in charge, don’t you? The thought of a woman boss?” she pressed, “You’d all never admit it but it gets you excited, how the women here - everywhere - are really the ones running the show, that any male authority is really just a thin facade, ready to be, like, cracked.”

“Oh my god Angie,” AJ moaned, now in the full grip of arousal, starting to pump himself with more abandon as Angie’s words struck chords with him neither he nor she had yet heard. Angie was experimenting, learning.

“Women have always been the ones to take up responsibilities, accept them and take them on, when men fail. We’ve been getting more able, more and more competent, while you all just, like, get lazy and dumb and shrink away,” she said, watching how his eyes were glazing over, his face going slack. Still he stared at her tits. “And you know the best part? It fucking turns you all on. You like getting weaker, losing responsibility and authority, your lives getting smaller as ours get bigger…”

“J-j-jesus Angie yes,” he stammered, mouth fully gaping now, his whole body shaking as he jacked off to her, to this vision of women.

She pulled his face closer. “Look at my tits. Look how big they are, look how deep and dark my cleavage is,” she commanded, “I’ll bet you wish you could shrink down and sink in there. Just become a little man and live between your girlfriend’s tits.”

“A-Angie n-n-n-...” he began, trying to deny but unable to come up with a sentence, in the face of the shame.

“Shhh, I know. I know what kind of porn guys have been into these days. I know what kind you’ve been into,” she said, “the shrinking, the bodybuilders, the giantesses…”

“unnh...unnnh…” he grunted, vision starting to close in, laser focused between her tits.

“And our breasts,” she continued, but knowing she had him close, “When did you become so obsessed with breasts? Even when you sleep, they’re there, aren’t they? Vision of my breasts swim in your head all night long.”

It was true. Her boobs were all he dreamed about. He moaned in forbearance and began to shudder.

“It’s true,” she said, her words echoing his thoughts, right as his climax began to crest, “It totally is. It’s why you wake up in the middle of the night sucking your own thumb. You want to be our fucking babies…”.

That was it, that was the final blow, and AJ could take no more. He groaned, finally closed his eyes, and came. His body lurched, shook, and cum shot up out of his cock.

Angie backed off, an inch, his head still in her hands. “There you go,” she said, plainly, “don’t get it on my dress.”

AJ, for himself, opened his eyes again, now jerking himself through it while staring into her tits again. He didn’t want to get it on her dress, so he pointed it back at himself, soiling his hand, his belly, his thigh.

“That’s right, get it all out,” she employed, patience now starting to wear thin, a new edge sharpening her voice. Though his climax still had him, she released his head, backing off another step. Her hands went to her top, pulling her neckline now more fully up over her breasts. “Finish up…”

AJ groaned in distress, his orgasm waning but ruined in its final moments. He just wanted those tits to bury himself into, and she was stepping away...

“Mommy’s got to go,” she said, finally, looking down at herself, shimmying herself back into some semblance of modesty, “Now, Aaron. This is it for us. I’m through.”

“w-w-wait whut?” AJ sputtered, confused, as his cock - just starting to deflate - leaked its final jisms onto his hand.

“I said I’m, like, done,” Angie said, straightly, looking down at him again, “You’ve been the perfect toy to practice on, and I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been fun. But I’m moving on, to bigger and better things.”

“Wait, no…” AJ managed, sobering quickly in shock but still struggling to grasp what was happening, “...are you...b-breaking up with me?”

“Yep,” she said, no hint of empathy softening her words as she watched the guy she’d lived with, the man she’d broken, start to shake. He was flailing, looking down at himself, at his mess, unsure what to do.

She reached out, grabbed a team of paper towels, and tossed it at him. “Here, clean up.”

“Angie, wait,” he tried, pulling several sheets out and starting to wipe himself down. She can’t do this, not now..! he thought, What will I do? Where will I live?? He had to stop her. “Let’s-“

“No, I’m done waiting,” she stopped him, turning away, hand already reaching for the door, grabbing the handle. An image of Melissa, her last Instagram post, flashed into her mind, made Angie seethe. “I’ve got things to do.”

And then he was alone.

=============================

sorry for the poor image quality, ‘twas the best I could do.

more stuff, newer posts at my Patreon

#growing into the job

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years ago

Text

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 3

THREE - Little Shop Of Horrors

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Bucky vividly remembers being about 10 years old and sitting on the living room floor watching his father assemble a heavy cabinet made from dark, massive wood. It had intricate gold ornaments along the sides and around the edges and even at that young age, he knew that it must’ve been expensive.

He likes thinking back to that memory, mostly because it’s one of the few that he can still tightly hold onto and recount the exact way he’s felt then, and partly because it’s so seemingly insignificant. It’s nice to know that some of the memories he regained after having his mind wiped clean, are tiny unimportant ones. It’s not just the big moments and grand gestures that make life worth living. Sometimes it’s the little things, the small details you look back on and fondly remember with a smile on your face.

Looking at the furniture before him, Bucky can’t imagine what his mother would think of these cabinets. Everything is white or beige or grey and there’s a lot of shiny black fronts and glass doors. The place is huge, so huge they have to tape arrows on the floor so people don’t get lost, and it smells of artificial vanilla and sawdust.

It’s not like he hates the furniture here, it’s just a lot and quite honestly, he’s not sure what really matches his personal style. Hell, he hasn’t had a personal style since before he went to fight in the war.

“ Ooooh, this one is very you! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she lets herself fall onto a fluffy brown 2-seat sofa.

If it wasn’t for her, Bucky wouldn’t be here. Not only because he wants her to come around more often and actually be able to sit on a couch, but also because she was literally the one driving them both here.

“Watcha doin? “

That was the text that started it, and before he knew she had pulled up to his apartment building, arm hanging from her open car window, and yelled “Get in loser, we’re going furniture shopping! “

Bucky assumes that is another movie reference though he doesn’t dare ask her about it.

“Nope, that’s a two-seater. Too small. I want to be able to sleep on it. “

“ Or, and hear me out on this one, you could get a new bed to sleep in. “

He doesn’t have any reply to that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to sleep in his bed, it’s just — it’s too soft. It’s too comfortable. It makes it easy to fall asleep and dream. And it’s never pleasant dreams. It’s nightmares. It’s faces that haunt him. Innocent faces. Eyes filled with terror. Fear. Fear of him. It’s nightmares. It’s memories.

When he doesn’t answer, (Y/N) pulls herself back up from the sofa and wanders on “or we’ll just have to find a bigger couch, that’s fine too. “

And at that moment he’s entirely grateful that she doesn’t push him any further.

They wander around the store for a while longer, slalom in between sofas and recliners, swerve in and out of mock-up rooms, all the while (Y/N) keeps throwing puns at him incorporating the Swedish names of the furniture.

Hanging out with her kind of reminds him of the times he hung out with Steve when both of them were so much younger. Of course, it’s nothing alike. He’s not even close to the person he was then, the boy he was then. The thing is, back then everything was easy and light. Being here with her and listening to her horrible puns, that’s easy too. For right now, he doesn’t even notice the weight that’s constantly resting on his heart or the perpetual shadow that seems to rest above him. This is easy and it feels so nice.

They step into yet another room, this one painted a dark forest green. Against the wall, there’s a dark wooden cabinet holding books and a fake tv and in the middle is a corner sofa made from dark brown leather. It’s big enough to fit both him and (Y/N) and maybe even Lady if she’s okay with cuddling up a little to either of them.

“ I like that one,” Bucky says and lets himself plop down on the couch. It’s comfortable but not too soft. It’s just right. Is this what Goldilocks felt like?

(Y/N) sits down next to him, rests her feet on top of the couch table and for a second it’s just them and the black screen of the fake tv and the intercom system calling out for little Kyle to be picked up at the Småland play area.

“ Honey, “ (Y/N) speaks up after a moment, “ I think the tv is broken? “ her voice ringing through the mock-up in a thick Transatlantic accent, making her sound like the women in the movies he grew up with.

“ Huh. Ain’t that something ?”

“ Well didn’t you fix it like I told you? “

“ Guess I must’ve forgotten,” Bucky plays along, trying to suppress the smirk pulling the corner of his lips upwards.

“ Ugh, remind me again why I married you? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders casually “ my good looks? “

“ Oh, don’t flatter yourself. It’s very unbecoming. Good thing is — “ she announces as jumps up, pulling Bucky up with her and right over into the next mock-up living room. “ We have another tv.”

As Kyle’s parents are called out again, (Y/N) and Bucky tumble from one room into the next. From kitchen to bathroom to fake little balcony. All setting the stage for another chapter from their made-up marriage. Scenes from a movie never made, a book never written. A beautiful kaleidoscope of could-be and never-was. A nice fantasy to get lost in.

If this was a rom-com, (Y/N) thinks, this would be the falling in love montage. Some killer indie track would play in the background and it would be featured in at least one Buzzfeed article about romantic gestures.

But it’s not a movie, it’s real life and she isn’t the romantic lead and Bucky is — well he would make a great leading man now that she thinks about it.

They make their way back to the green living room with the brown couch and the ‘broken’ tv and fall back against the leather, laughter shaking their bodies, tears of joy stinging at the corners of their eyes. As she catches her breath, (Y/N) taps Bucky softly on the right shoulder and drops her voice to a whisper.

“Honey,” she says “I don’t know how to tell you this but uh — there’s a family on our balcony.”

Bucky’s eyes follow her outstretched hand and sure enough on the adjacent fake balcony is a family of 4 staring back at them. And just like that, they fall back into a beautiful harmony of laughter.

“So explain to me again what this movie is about?” Bucky asks as (Y/N) takes another sip from her coke can.

“Dude buys a plant, it starts eating people.”

“And this is gonna show me what women want these days?”

A joyful chuckle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. “I mean … there is a love story and a moral about how far you’re willing to go for the people you love even if it might be morally questionable, but maybe — maybe we should consider this one the Halloween special.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulder as if to say “okay fine with me” and leans back against the car seat. The massive screen of the drive-in is currently playing some kind of ice cream commercial that has (Y/N) softly humming along to the jingle.

This trip wasn’t planned, in fact, they’d been on their way back home when a billboard at the side of the road caught (Y/N)’s attention and put a huge grin on her face, so wide it could’ve split her face in two.

That’s how he ended up parked neatly in a row of cars, Coca-Cola in hand, popcorn resting in between him and (Y/N) waiting for the commercials to end and the movie to begin.

“You’re gonna love this one,” she’s told him beforehand. He’s a little skeptical about it but he’s not gonna tell her. Bucky is just so appreciative of the fact that she bothers trying to introduce him to these things. They might not end up being for him but it’s a good feeling to have someone care this much. Someone who hasn’t been with him through all the shit. Someone who doesn’t feel responsible because they pity him. Someone who doesn’t owe it to Steve to look after Bucky…

“So … I still have some homework to do.” He chimes in thinking back to their conversation on his living room floor.

“Homework that involves me?”

“Mmh. Doc thinks I should learn some more things about you. Apparently, it’s not enough to know that you’re crazy about movies and talk a lot.”

“I do talk a lot.” (Y/N) agrees and pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you. What you want to know?”

“Anything.”

Since coming back from oblivion, Bucky hasn’t really made an effort to get to know anyone. Growing closer to people only means there’s more for you to lose. More people you can potentially hurt. He doesn’t usually learn new things about people because he doesn’t ask. Because he doesn’t want to know. It’s a lonely life but it’s safe. It’s comfortable.

But this is different. He’s in too deep now to stop. And yeah, maybe this is his homework. Maybe he asks because his therapist told him too but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He wants to know about (Y/N). Even the little things. The insignificant details.

“Well as I said before, I’ve studied literature and creative writing. I want to be an author. That’s uh — that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. The thing is it’s very hard to actually get people to give your writing a chance. Especially now. The world is in such a weird limbo after everyone came back. There’s no room for my art right now. So I work as a waitress to make ends meet. “

“What would you write about?” Bucky asks and in her eyes, in the surprise that’s so clearly written on her face, he can see that people don’t ask her that all too often.

“I don’t know, life? “

“Love stories?”

She lets out a mix between a scoff and a snort “what do I know about romance? I can tell you all about the love the movies and the songs and the books want to sell us, and don’t get me wrong, I love that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced true and honest romantic love. So how could I ever write about it ?”

For a moment silence falls upon them. It’s neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. Sometimes that’s enough.

“Look, I might not know a lot about love either, but I do know that dreams are worth holding on to, no matter how out of reach they seem. If it’s something you believe in and that you’re passionate about, it’s worth fighting for it.”

“Huh, didn’t put you for such a motivational speaker. Where’ve you got that from”

“Didn’t think the skinny boy from Brooklyn was ever gonna save a whole bunch of lives and fight in a war. Steve was the walking proof that you can do anything. “

“You miss him, huh?”

People don’t usually ask about Steve. They either don’t care how Bucky feels about the whole situation or they know it’s a tough topic and avoid it altogether. The worst part is he doesn’t even know how to respond. Yes of course he misses Steve, more than anything really, but there’s also a little bit of resentment swinging along. With Steve here by his side, it always felt like there was someone there who understood exactly what Bucky was going through. Someone who also had to figure out how to navigate this new life. But now with Steve gone, he feels so utterly alone.

“Every day.”

“Look I’m not going to ask what happened because quite honestly I’m still trying to grasp the fact that there are aliens and superheroes and wizards — “

“Wizards are not a thing.”

“You sure?”

Bucky lets out a slightly annoyed sigh “Yup. 100%”

“What’s the Strange guy?”

“Sorcerer.”

“That’s not the same?”

“No.”

(Y/N) considers for a moment, eyes screwed up in uncertainty before she shrugs her shoulder “ alright if you say so. Anyway, my point is, I don’t know if you have that many people to talk to and I don’t know if you even want to talk about Steve but if you do … well you can talk to me. I know I talk a lot but I’m also a really good listener. “

There’s no doubt in his mind that she is. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk about Steve yet though. Not when his heart is still at war whether or not to be angry. Not when he’s still so uncertain about his own complicated emotions.

“Thanks, I uh — I appreciate it.”

Loud music starts to play and (Y/N)’s head snaps towards the screen just in time for the title card to pop up in big colorful letters as three women shimmy across the street and start singing.

Bucky can’t help but let his gaze travel back towards (Y/N) every once in a while. There’s something about her he can’t quite figure out, but the way her eyes light up as she watches the movie and the smile on her face, it gives him a warm feeling. Like bad things don’t exist for the 90 minutes they sit together and watch a film.

“Sooooo?” (Y/N) asks as she parks the car in front of Bucky’s place. Her eyes still hold a sparkle that’s both mischievous and excited.

“I actually liked this one a little.”

“A little?”

“Look it’s not gonna be my favorite movie but I had fun. But uh — maybe that’s just because I’ve watched it with you.”

(Y/N) grants him a beautiful smile. It’s full of warmth and care and honesty. And he’s glad he told her, even if it makes him vulnerable.

“You telling me I’m a good friend?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, you’re a good friend too, Bucky.”

He hopes she’s right though he has a hard time believing it. He’s never seen himself as the greatest friend. Everything he did for Steve he did because he knew Steve would do the same. It came so naturally from both of them that it never felt like he was doing anything special or exceptional. It was as easy as breathing.

“Do you wanna come up? We could order some food.”

“Oh, I can’t. Gotta pick up Lady from Robin’s place. But as soon as your couch is delivered count me in as the first sleepover guest. “

“Will do. Hey, you think I should name the plant we bought (Y/N) 2?”

“Depends, you wanna feed the neighborhood Dentist to it”

“Maybe.”

They fall into another fit of laughter and even though it’s not that funny, and even though it’s really dumb and silly actually, Bucky enjoys it so much. He can’t remember a day when he laughed this much, felt this light.

“Oh, by the way, I’m throwing a pre-Halloween-party next weekend. If you’re free you should totally drop by.”

“I um — A friend is coming around that weekend.”

“Then bring your friend! The more the merrier, right ?”

Sam is gonna be down, there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind about it. Sam isn't the problem, he never is. It’s Bucky. Going to a party is terrifying for someone who’s never known anything but the 1940s. This can only end up in disasters.

And yet …

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

“Cool. Awesome. Just uh — Just text me when you know. Also, there’s no special theme so you can dress up as whatever.”

“I’m not dressing up.”

(Y/N) blows a raspberry against her arm “lame! But whatever, you do you.”

He guesses that means as much as “suit yourself”.

They bid each other goodbye with a hug and a promise from (Y/N) to Bucky to text him once she’s home just so he knows she’s safe.

To her, that’s a gesture so sweet and endearing it sends a jolt through her heart. To him, it’s as natural as breathing. You do what you can to keep those safe that you care about, even if it’s just a simple little text.

“You dressed up!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Man, You’re wearing a costume. I’m looking at you right now. I can see it. You dressed up.”

“These are just my clothes.”

“These are just your clothes? Your normal clothes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wearing Converse now?”

“ mmh.”

“Your Jeans are cuffed, man. I’ve never seen you cuff your jeans.”

“It’s something I do now.”

Bucky isn’t a very religious person. He doesn’t pray very often. At that moment though, he prays to god and every higher spirit one might choose to believe in, to open up the earth and let it swallow him whole.

“Look,” Sam says and gives Bucks a friendly pat on the back “you don’t gotta be embarrassed by it. I dressed up!”

“Yeah, what even are you, by the way? An exterminator?”

“I — what? No! I’m a ghostbuster.”

“Okay. Whatever that is.”

“Whatev— Bucky, Man you really gotta go with the times a little. I know you’re practically ancient but the Ghostbusters? Catch up!”

“Whatever. I'm not dressing up. Can we go?” Bucky sighs in exasperation, making Sam’s grin grow even bigger. Bucky knows that he’s just playing into his game, that Sam loves riling him up. That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to not let it get to him.

“Alright alright. Hold your horses. I’m ready. Let’s go … Danny Zuko.”

Bucky wants to punch him then but Sam is out the door faster than Bucky can even react, his loud laughter sounding through the hallway.

There are people everywhere. Sitting on the kitchen counter, lounging on the couches, leaning against the wall by the open windows. Everywhere. The apartment is small and with so many people inside, it looks absolutely packed. Like sardines in a tin.

Music echos through the place, a song Bucky faintly recognizes from the radio but can’t name. Sam seems to enjoy it though, his body already swaying along to the tune.

“Hey Buck, where’s your girl?” He asks as both of them let their eyes travel across the room and over the crowd.

“She’s not my girl and I don’t —“

In the middle of the room is a fish tank. It separates the living room area from the dining room and kitchen. Blue and green hues radiate from it as colorful fish circle around and swerve in and out of the plants.

But Bucky hardly noticedsthe fish, as his eyes fall onto the girl at the other side of the tank. The water sends a blue shimmer across her skin but her smile doesn’t lose any of the warmth it always holds. She looks beautiful. She always does but there’s something about her tonight that’s different from all the times he’s seen her before. Something ethereal.

At that moment, Bucky feels a fluttery feeling in his heart, in his bones, in his blood. He knows this feeling, has felt it before, a long time ago. Maybe, he thinks, maybe there could be more than friendship there.

And that thought absolutely terrifies him. Because falling for someone makes you foolish and dumb and vulnerable. And that’s awfully scary.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi //

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #winter soldier x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier imagine #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james barnes x female reader #he has too many names this must be enough

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

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-The Arrangement- Chapter 1

Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable add. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter summary: Let’s meet our lovely [Y/N]. Every good story starts somewhere. Buckle up for the next few months babes <3

Chapter 1

“Nope, sorry, I have to get to my other job.” You politely declined getting after-work drinks with your colleagues like usual. It was nice of them to still invite you even though you never said yes.

You excused yourself to the company restroom. Out with the office worker, in with the bartender. You switched shirts, put your hair up in a ponytail, and applied heavier make-up. You'd switch out your skirt when you got to the club. As dumb and gross as it was, you always made more money when you wore your questionably short shorts. Oh well, money is money.

You sent a quick text to your brother to make sure he and your sister got to your aunt's apartment and then headed for the station. Ok. How much money do I need to make tonight? You asked yourself as you opened the banking app. You mentally calculate the amount needed to feed your siblings, pay for the bus, and utilities. Ugh Maybe Park Minho will let me stay for him tonight. He usually wanted to get out of work early to go hang out with his friends. You would be ok this week if you stopped taking the bus and ate more ramen and less real food. You sighed. You were so tired.

You walked through the black glass doors of Club Tokki. There were only a few customers right now and you immediately went to see if anyone had made coffee. Work coffee=free coffee. Luckily for you, Lisa, the woman who worked the day shift almost always needed an extra dose of afternoon caffeine and there was still enough for a cup.

“Hey doll!” Lisa greeted you. “Here, I brought some milk in as well,” she said as she poured the coffee for you.

“You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.” You gratefully took the mug, warming your hands.

“No problem, do you need me to do anything before I leave? I’m going to close out with those two groups first.” She asked as she rinsed off some pint glasses.

You assessed the bar looking to see what you might need over the next few hours. “Yeah, ask the bar-back to get two more bottles of Goose and a bottle of Crown. We usually go through those on Wednesdays. And maybe cut a few limes and lemons. Thanks.” You took the coffee with you to the small office and finished changing clothes. Lisa was a student so she shared your need for thrifty living, coffee, and work. You didn’t have many friends, but you knew you could count on Lisa for caffeine and getting the bar prepped.

You walked back out to the bar, mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead. In a few minutes people like your office coworkers would stream in, treating each other to after work drinks, socializing, and networking. You used to wonder if your circumstances were different if you would be the type of person who went out after work and socialized with their colleagues. You had come to the realization that “no” you wouldn’t. You would probably go home and sleep. Maybe read. You sighed and shimmied behind the bar as Lisa started to count down the drawer. "Alright, I asked the barback for the alcohol and there's 2 cups of lines and lemons."

"Thanks a lot babe. See you tomorrow." you waved at her and started to move stuff around to where you liked it.

"Happy money making." she smiled and headed out.

As predicted about half an hour later, office workers start to show up and the bar is slowly starting to fill up. Club Tokki is known for its laid back vibe so it's mostly beers and "and" drinks. Whisky and coke. Vodka and soda. Occasionally there were some younger girls here that ordered the more complicated drinks. But you got those out as well; this wasn't the first bar you'd ever worked at, just the latest incarnation. And just like that, the night starts to speed up. Minho arrives two hours into your shift for the after-dinner rush.

“Just in time dude,” you greeted him as he walked behind the bar.

“What do you need?” He asked as he clocks in for the night.

“The bar is caught up if you want to go check section one. Shinhye has the rest of the floor.” You instructed him and used this opportunity to catch up on cleaning dishes. You caught one of the guys at the end of the bar staring at you. He was definitely good looking, and stood out with his expensive suit, silver hair, and strong facial features. Whatever. As long as he tips. You were not looking for a boyfriend. Or a hookup. You cringed at the thought of even trying to navigate dating between your work schedule and also living with your Aunt as a grown ass woman. You shook your head like it would get rid of the thought. Satisfied with the current state of the bar you took a minute to drink some water and scan the club. There were worse places you could work for sure.

Minho came back to the bar and asked you to make some shots while he grabs some beers. Grape bombs? Is this 2012? You resisted the urge to gag, having gotten sick on them when you were younger. You placed the drinks on his tray and checked the bartop once again.

Mr. Expensive Suit dimple-face was nursing a Goose and soda. “You doing ok?” you asked him as you made your way down the bar.

“I’m great. Thanks. What’s your name?”

“[Y/N]” you responded and started to move on to your next guest.

“This is the part where you ask my name.” he said arrogantly. Suddenly you did not care for him as much.

“Is it? I’ve never talked to someone in a bar before. I didn't realize there was a script.” you responded sarcastically. You hated it when guys thought they could manipulate you.

“Wow. Ok. Ok. Hard to get. I respect that. I’m Kim Namjoon.”

“Ok Mr. Kim, is there anything else I can get for you right now?” you asked, oh so sweetly.

“No. I’m good for now.” he said, laughing to himself. He shook his head incredulously and sipped his drink.

Well maybe you weren’t going to get tipped after all. Oh well.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur. The vodka special brought in quite a few people and you ended up going through four bottles of Goose. Mr. Kim Dimples remained, nursing only his second drink now and still staring at you even though he was trying hard to not look like he was staring. It was awkward. He was hot but sooo not your type. Which you thought you had made clear.

“Mr. Kim, are you sure you even like Goose and soda?” you teased him as you made another round checking on people.

“You know, I am more of a beer drinker myself, but I can’t pass up a good vodka special.” he leaned to the side, getting out his wallet, and pulled out a business card.

“[Y/N], I’d like for you to take this.” he stuck it between his index and middle finger, holding it out for you to take.

“I am flattered, Mr. Kim, but I’m not interested in anything like that.” you smiled politely.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Believe me, I’m not asking you on a date. You are so not my type,” he said with an air of disgust. As though he was repulsed that you would have even thought he would consider asking you out. “This is a job opportunity. I work for a talent agency of sorts.”

Wow. What a dick. “Oh yeah? What talent do you see?” you gesture to yourself. “I do pour some stiff drinks and can usually tell rude guys to fuck off with a smile on my face.”

To your surprise he just laughed. “You are very funny. And I suppose some people would find you attractive. Just take the card. I think you’re the best candidate I’ve found yet.” he stood up and put on his suit jacket, sitting the business card down on the bartop.

“Rude.” you casually said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it makes no difference to me if you accept or not. Regardless, there it is." He gestured to the card, and sat down way too much money on top of it. "Keep the change." He turned and left.

You didn’t end up closing for Minho; the two of you both stayed since it remained steady through closing time. You were weirded out by the conversation with Mr. Kim, but having worked in a bar for the past 7 years, it wasn't the weirdest thing that had ever happened to you. You threw the business card into your purse and forgot about it for the rest of your shift.

The remainder of the night passed without incident. As much as you disliked it, that weirdo's money helped make sure you could take the bus again the next few days. You stuffed your tips into your purse and walked home. Well. To your aunt's house. It didn't really feel like home. Just a temporary landing spot until you and your siblings could get your own place again.

You entered quietly and washed your hands. You dutifully went through your siblings school bags, making sure their supplies and homework were where they should be. You packaged their lunches as much as you could and started a fresh batch of rice for tomorrow. All mostly in the dark so you didn't wake anyone up. Your brother was sleeping on the couch, which you hated, but he insisted on it. You were sharing the guest bedroom with your sister and your niece.

You grabbed your laptop and curled up in the corner of the kitchen to not bother anybody. I’m a 27 year old loser hiding on the floor of my Aunt’s apartment in the middle of the night. I have to wake up in 5 hours for my other job and instead I’m going to look up a website that some weird ass rude hot guy at a bar gave me. Why is this my life? You thought, and yet you pulled out the business card and entered the link. It took you to a black website with a white box asking for a code. You flipped the card over, and there it was, handwritten. You type it in and wait for the website to load, convinced it’s going to be some weird porn site with fisting or crush videos. You almost cover your eyes but to your pleasant surprise it’s a normal website.

Seeking: a suitable adult woman for long-term companionship. Will be well compensated. Serious inquiries only.

The text continued: If you are on this website, congratulations. You have already presented the basic level qualifications for this position.

Ok. So maybe this was an escort service. Which I mean...if it paid better than both of your jobs and you didn’t have to have sex with people maybe you could. No. No. You talked yourself out of it and scrolled down to read more of the description,

Requirements:

Female between the ages of 20 and 40.

Flexibility in schedule

Desire to travel and attend events

Strong personality and interpersonal skills

Proficiency with Microsoft Excel and Word

Punctuality, attention to detail, and strong organizational skills

Desired but not necessary

Non-smoker/drinks alcohol socially

Like animals

Enjoy listening to music

Compensation:

Position requires relocation to on-site premises and therefore covers room and board.

Monthly stipend (click here for more information pertaining to taxes)

3 meals a day, beverages, and snacks included

Most escort services didn’t require proficiency in Microsoft Word or Excel...you were guessing. Maybe it was a legit job. Like an on-site event planner? You clicked the link contained in compensation and HOLY SHIT THAT WAS A LOT OF MONEY.

You bit your lip and pulled up your resume. It couldn’t hurt to submit it, right? You didn’t have much to update since you had just started your office job 3 months ago. You updated the resume to include that job and listed your address as Club Tokki’s in case this was actually a sex trafficking set up. You thought about it for a another minute and then uploaded the document, took a deep breath, and hit “send.” NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @lidda

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfction #bts yoongi x reader #bts suga x you #bts fics #bts au fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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harrygroves · 3 years ago

Text

a simple favor - chapter five

part four

“Billy, get on the horse.”

“Steve, for the tenth time, I am not getting on that thing.” Billy repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why not?” Steve asks, atop his own horse, growing impatient.

“Look at what you’re on, Steve. That thing is huge.”

“Yes, they are, but it’s safe. I swear.” Steve promises.

“Nope. No fucking way. I’ll pass on this.”

Steve gives him a murderous smile, talking through clenched teeth. “Billy, my mother is watching through the window, alright? Get on mine then, just come on!”

Billy looks over his shoulder, back at the house where Mrs. Harrington is indeed watching them.

He turns back to Steve. “You want me to ride with you?” He asks.

“If you won’t ride on your own then you can ride with me.” Steve replies with a shrug.

Billy deflates, defeated. “Fine, but I’m not wearing the stupid fucking helmet.” He snaps before approaching Steve and his horse.

It’s a big, strong looking American Quarter (according to Steve) horse with soft brown hair and black, inky eyes. Billy has never been this close to a horse before and it’s scaring the absolute shit out of him.

Steve instructs him. “Right, so put your foot there, and grab here and hoist yourself up.”

Billy does so with shaky hands and the horse moves while he hoists, and it freaks him the hell out and he settles behind Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle tightly.

Billy can feel the laugh vibrate through Steve’s body. “Wow, you’re really scared, aren’t you?” Steve says.

“Yes, I am not just trying to grope you, I am in fact, fucking terrified right now.”

“Well, then you’re not going to like this.” Steve says before making a loud noise and kicking the horse.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Billy shouts into the back of Steve’s neck as they take off.

Galloping. They’re fucking galloping.

Billy’s going to murder him.

He doesn’t get used to it, not for a single second and when Steve finally slows the horse to a light trot, he realizes his body is rigid and unmoving and it takes a great deal of effort to untangle his arms from Steve. His limbs are stiff, but he can’t fully let go of Steve; he’s the only thing keeping him on the fucking horse, so he settles for lightly gripping his sides.

“I h-hate you.” Billy sputters out, voice shaking.

“Aww, sweetie. Love you too.” Steve replies cheekily over his shoulder.

Billy had kept closing his eyes while riding, and hadn’t fully looked around him. They were in a meadow, near a pond, a couple ducks gliding along the water.

Steve leads the horse to the water and lets it drink. Billy tries to stop trembling but it’s not going away.

“So, how do you think this is going?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

“I fucking hate it.” Billy snaps.

“No, not the horse, you dolt, the plan.” Steve bites back.

“Oh. Uh. I don't know. Fine I guess. Your parents are a fucking nightmare, but you warned me about that. Do you think they’re buying it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment. The horse shakes it head around, steps back and moves forward a couple times and Billy finds himself gripping Steve’s sides harder.

“I think mom is too mad to look any deeper.” Steve finally says. “I can’t read dad. I’ll have to ask Robin.”

“What do you mean?” Billy scrunches his nose, confused.

“I mean, I’m not gonna actually ask, like, do you think dad is buying this?, but I’ll ask her if dad likes you.”

“He’d tell her?”

Steve nods. “They talk a lot more than he and I do.”

“Oh.” Billy says, feeling an awkward silence fall between them.

The silence is broken by Steve kicking the horse again and they’re off, Billy letting out a surprised, scared sound and wrapping his arms around Steve again.

After Billy gets off the horse, his legs feel like jelly. Steve brings the horse to the stable and takes the time to brush it, cooing and whispering at the thing like it’s a human child. Billy smokes a cigarette and rolls his eyes.

Finally Steve is done and they make their way back into the house.

Robin runs into them in the hallway and asks how it went.

“Lovely.” Steve says at the same time Billy says, “Fucking awful.”

Robin laughs, a deep-belly sound that actually makes Billy smile. She’s genuinely a fun person to be around and Billy’s starting to like her.

“What are you guys doing the rest of the day?” She asks once the laughing subsides.

“Probably prepping him for another interrogation at dinner.” Steve says with a long, tired eye-roll.

Like an afterthought, Steve reaches over and takes Billy’s hand, squeezing it lightly. The exchange might appear as though Steve was trying to comfort Billy, so Billy smiles at him slightly before the attention goes back to Robin.

“Alright, fine, but I want a day with him.” Robin says, crossing her arms.

“Uh. What?” Steve says, dropping Billy’s hand.

“Oh c’mon, Steve. The last guy you brought here was, like, two years ago. And I didn’t even get to know him. Let Billy and I hang.”

“I...don't...uh...stories!” Steve blurts out. “You’ll tell a bunch of embarrassing stories, and I won’t allow it.”

Billy wants to facepalm. He wants to cry. Steve is so bad at this.

“Sweetie -- ” Billy starts with a sickening smile. “ -- I think it’s a great idea. It’ll be fine. Promise.”

Billy reaches an arm over and wraps it around Steve, does it casually like it’s a common occurrence. Steve is tense beside him, mouth pursed and Billy can tell he’s not happy with this plan.

“Yay!” Robin claps her hands together. “We can curl each other’s hair and talk boys.” She says with a wink before saying goodbye and leaving them.

Steve shakes out of Billy’s arm and gives him a mean look. “You’re such an asshole.” He grumbles lowly.

“Aww, c’mon Stevie. We had a barely tolerable afternoon, don't ruin it.”

“I fucking hate you.” Steve continues, storming away.

“Steve? Steve! Wait for me! Seriously, I’m not getting lost in the Winchester Mystery House.” Billy shouts, running after him.

They’re arguing in Steve’s room.

Steve does not want Billy spending alone time with Robin.

Billy doesn’t understand why.

“It shouldn’t matter why.” Steve tells him, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m paying you for a job, and this is not a requirement for that job.”

“Jeez, boss. Re-lax.” Billy says, laying on the bed.

“She’s going to...look, she’s going to tell you a bunch of stupid stories and I don't need you knowing anymore about me, other than the totally necessary shit for this stupid charade.”

Billy snorts. “A charade you designed.”

“I will fucking suffocate you tonight, I swear to god.”

“I honestly think you could with these pillows.” Billy mentions airily. He sits up. “Look, dude, this is stupid. I don't care what she says, I literally will not absorb any of it, swear. Unless it’s incredibly humiliating and I can use it against you in the future.”

Steve’s eyes are daggers and he looks like he wants to yell. Instead he stalks into the bathroom and slams the door.

Dinner is another awkward affair and Steve is mad at him, which makes it much worse. Robin keeps looking between them with interest. Billy tries to keep up appearances and puts his hand on Steve’s leg. Steve roughly shoves it off.

It’s like the kid forgot why Billy was even there.

Irritated, he cuts into his steak and eats angrily.

After dinner, Steve and Billy excuse themselves. They go back to Steve’s room, and Billy takes off his clothes, leaving him in boxers, before slipping into bed without a word.

Steve turns the television off but keeps it low. Billy isn’t facing him but he can tell Steve is still pissed. So is he.

Whatever.

The next morning Billy is plastered against Steve, one arm underneath him. Their legs are tangled together, hips touching. They’re both hard in their boxers. At some point last night, Steve had changed into a black-and-white striped tank top and taken his pants off.

The weight of Steve against him is comfortable and weird at the same time. His hair smells good. The tank top has ridden up, revealing mole-speckled skin. His mouth is open and the stale stench of morning breath wafts out, but Steve’s lazy, almost pleasant expression is what Billy is more focused on.

It’s nice.

It’s actually kind of nice.

Billy wants to kiss him.

Fuck.

This is...not good.

If he kissed Steve, would Steve wake up?

Would he kiss Billy back?

Would something else happen?

Billy zones out for a moment, thinking about that, but then realizes he absolutely cannot think about it any further because heat is pooling down his back, down his front and he has the overwhelming urge to grind against Steve.

Billy clears his throat and starts slowly trying to separate himself and Steve.

Steve only half wakes up, eyes fluttering open briefly. Billy’s moved his lower body away, but Steve’s still lying on his arm.

“Hmm?” Steve hums.

“Kinda...trapped here.” Billy says awkwardly.

Steve moans a little, sleep-heavy, and rolls away from Billy.

Billy leaves to use the bathroom, forcing himself to only pee and not jerk off.

When he returns to the bedroom, Steve is still lying on his side, but he’s looking at his phone.

Billy starts to say, “Good mo -- , ” but stops himself because oh yeah, they’re angry with each other. Steve looks at him briefly before turning his attention back to his phone.

Billy goes to the closet and grabs sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He needs coffee and a fucking cigarette.

He doesn’t say anything to Steve before leaving to try and find the kitchen.

Billy doesn’t get very far. He overhears fragments of a conversation coming from one of the libraries, or at least, Billy thinks it’s a library. He can’t keep track of the rooms in this damn house.

It’s Steve’s parents.

“ -- not thinking straight, obviously -- ”

“ -- Billy is just a phase -- ”

“ -- fighting all the time, just heard them the other day -- ”

“ -- don't think they’ll last -- ”

“ -- push off the money if Steve’s this unstable -- ”

Well fuck.

“ -- go talk to Steve right now -- ”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Billy ran as quietly as he could back to the bedroom.

Steve was sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Billy peeked out the door, looking down the hall. He saw the unmistakable hairstyle of Mrs. Harrington turning the corner and shut the door silently.

“Fuck.” Billy rubbed a hand over his face.

“What?” Steve yawned.

Billy turned and looked at Steve apprehensively. He guessed he had about thirty seconds and had to move quickly.

Billy took his shirt off, throwing it aside. He went over to the bed and slid under the covers, pouncing on Steve and pinning him down, Billy’s legs pushing Steve’s apart.

“What, what the fuck?” Steve all but shrieked, trying to move away, twist out of Billy’s hold.

“Dude, shut up. Listen to me.” Billy hissed. Steve is still hard and it’s pushing against Billy’s inner thigh but Billy tries to focus. “I overheard your parents talking, I’ll explain that part later, your mom’s coming in here. I need to -- ” He cut himself off, looking down at Steve’s mouth.

Steve seemed to understand and looked away briefly, but only for a second before giving a tight nod in response.

“It is extremely important that you act like you’re enjoying this.” Billy informs him and tries to sound as serious as possible.

Steve doesn’t say anything but Billy doesn’t miss how his cheeks are flushing and yeah, Steve’s dick just twitched.

Billy leant down and kissed him.

Steve was unresponsive for a moment, but Billy lets one of his wrists go and reaches down to pull at Steve’s tank top, pushing it up to his neck. Nipples exposed, Billy puts his hand on Steve’s chest, digging a finger against one of them.

Steve gasps against Billy’s mouth and Billy takes advantage of it, plunging his tongue in Steve’s mouth.

Billy feels Steve’s free hand grab at his hair and Steve’s suddenly kissing him back, making these little, desperate, almost confused noises in the back of his throat.

Billy drags his hand down Steve’s body, further down, dragging Steve’s boxers slightly down with his hand. He grips at Steve’s hips, which jerk in his hold. Steve whines a little. The blankets are pooled at their hips, so Steve’s mom wouldn’t even be able to see that, but Billy’s being a little greedy right now. Truthfully Steve hasn’t stopped moving since they started kissing, like he’s trying to move his body away, trying not to push against Billy, but he can’t stop shifting and squirming, and Billy wonders if it’s intentional or for show cause it’s doing things to Billy that he’s trying not to overthink.

Another desperate sound falls out of Steve’s mouth and Billy is starting to get hard again, knows Steve can feel it.

It was hot.

His heart is hammering. He kisses Steve harder, starting to lose himself in the way it’s making him feel.

He’s desperate to touch Steve, and his hand moves down a little.

“Steven, I -- ”

They jerk apart.

Mrs. Harrington stands in the doorway, eyes wide in shock.

“Mom!” Steve yells angrily.

“I. Oh. I. Oh no.” She’s short-circuiting, clearly embarrassed, and stumbles backwards out of the room, shutting the door.

Billy doesn’t move. He waits a full ten seconds before turning back to look at Steve who is staring at him, face bright red, and it’s spread down his neck, his chest.

They’re still so close and Billy’s still holding his wrist, other hand gripping his hip.

He glances down at Steve’s mouth and he wants, god does he want.

Billy moves ever so slightly towards Steve.

Steve’s breath hitches. “Get off me.” Steve says quickly.

Crashing back to reality, Billy pulls away, moving off Steve.

Steve yanks his shirt down, pulls the blankets over him and lets out a long, shaky breath.

“What the fuck was that about?”

So Billy tells him.

chapter six

#harringrove #my fic #yay reluctant making out #i might move this over to a03 cause its getting pretty plotty #thoughts?

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vodkassassin · 4 years ago

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My dude, my gal, or maybe nonbinary pal (just to be sure, don't know your pronouns) you gave me the light, you have opened my eyes. All this ships I didn't know I needed and now can't get enough of. Your writing is a DELIGHT. For a prompt, how do SQH's disciples see him? What about the demons under MBJ? That one shot of LQG getting jealous of MBJ in which the underling backs away slowly means this isn't the first time that has happened right?

Thank you so much! It really makes me happy to hear that people enjoy reading my stuff. It’s half of what makes writing it so enjoyable for me. Another part I enjoy is how I seem to be dragging all you poor fools down with me into my shipping abyss of rare pairs. God bless.

I went with the demon perspective! Might do a disciple perspective next time? Idk. @quiensecomioelpie

—

As an agent of the Northern kingdom, Mao Liang is required to attend strategy meetings whenever they are present within the palace. Regardless of whether they had just returned from a long, grueling mission in the field only the day before, or not.

Luckily, there’s never that much attention brought to them, and Mao Liang is never expected to share their opinion or thoughts during the meeting, only directly to his majesty and the advisor afterwards. A relief, because if Mao Liang had to speak to the dozens of generals and high ranking soldiers and fellow agents that stand around the colossal, war room table alongside them… Well, that’s a crowd, isn’t it? If Mao Liang was forced to publicly speak, they might actually die.

Someone who doesn’t seem to ever have a problem with addressing a crowd of demons, though — be they gruff soldiers or generals or a glowering, looming king — is someone that is worth admiring.

Lord Shang pulls his furs around his shoulders more tightly, attention directed almost entirely on the maps sprawled out over the table they’ve all gathered around today. His head tilts toward the side just slightly, like a predator whose eyes have zeroed in on his prey, and Mao Liang has to fight the urge to shiver at the sight.

The odd twitches that they see in their fellow demons tells them that they, too, experience the same unease, so at least they’re not alone in this.

It was an odd thing, at first, to fear a human — much less a cultivator. In the beginning, as Lord Shang was just ascending into his climb for power in the Northern Kingdom, it had been something Mao Liang had been almost offended by. Just as any demon in their right mind would be, faced with such a slight, twitchy little thing, whose eyes rove to and fro as if they are a frightened animal. It screams of weakness, to any demon eyes.

Any demon that doesn’t already know better, at least.

Within the decade, however, it became clear that this feeling did, indeed, have its place in Mao Liang’s heart. That they were not experiencing a falsity. That Lord Shang, despite his diminutive appearance, is deserving of this respect, and not just because his majesty is so fond of him.

Not only is the cultivator powerful — Mao Liang still shudders in remembrance, whenever there is a storm in the sky strong enough to birth lightning — but he is conniving. He is intelligent to a terrifying degree. He is scarily efficient, productive, and reliable.

When Lord Shang says something will be done, it is done.

When Lord Shang says changes need to be made, they are made, no matter how many voices make their dissent known (nor how many idiots have, over the years, attempted something much more underhanded — they all fail, each and every one of them, and eventually the attempts were fewer and fewer, before just completely grinding to a halt).

If Lord Shang decides you are not fit for a position….

Well. In the beginning, he’d have just taken care of it himself. Through varying means, all of them increasingly terrifying, according to the rumors Mao Liang has heard over the years. Now, though…

Now, if Lord Shang decides someone has to go, the king himself is ever so obliging to make sure that it happens, often post haste.

So much power in the palm of a single person, even if he is an immortal master — it’s awe-inspiring.

So, Lord Shang indeed deserves the respect he commands from the heart of every Northern demon, and even those beyond their borders. However long it had taken them all to realize (and then accept), the state of the kingdom in recent years has been thriving more than it ever has in the past. Things haven’t been this good since perhaps the early golden age of the current Mobei Jun’s great and mighty ancestors. And they all know exactly who to credit that for.

“Here.”

Mao Liang startles, gaze snapping down to the map and zeroing in on where Lord Shang’s dainty (and deceptively powerful, mustn’t forget that) finger is tapping on an outlined enemy outpost.

“Eliminate them, first.” Lord Shang says.

“Ah — my lord?” One of the generals hedges awkwardly, tone coming out rather flat in his attempt not to offend — as it happens with most demons, their accents when speaking the common language does not leave a lot of room for niceties and polite speech. It’s caused a lot of scares with Lord Shang, where the demons under his attention are never certain if they’re about to get banished from the kingdom or executed by the king (which would be a mercy, certainly).

Mao Liang winces, covering it up by clenching their jaw tightly and eyeing the general who spoke from the corner of his eye, as Lord Shang turns his attention directly upon him.

The general is standing ramrod straight, shoulders stiff and brow pinched, when the advisor’s aquamarine gaze cuts to him. The demal shouldn’t have spoken up at all.

“What is it?” Lord Shang asks, pleasantly. Mao Liang feels a shiver wrack their spine.

Lord Shang is always pleasant, right up until he isn’t. It’s when he isn’t, that one has to watch out for oneself. But it’s ever so difficult to know when that caution is required, because Lord Shang is unpredictable, in a sense.

It takes a lot to truly and irreparably offend the honorable advisor. The last one who had…

They’re still scraping the poor guy’s innards off the wall of that conference hall, Mao Liang is pretty sure.

“That outpost…” the General begins, haltingly. He eyes the peak lord hesitantly, searching the neutral mask for any sign of displeasure, before continuing. “It’s not very important in the grand scheme of things, my lord. The enemy does not particularly value it. To expend our forces on its destruction would, I believe, be a waste of our resources at this time.”

There. Succinct and to the point. Mao Liang cranes their head around to peer at the advisor, who stands at the head of the table.

In the shadow of his majesty’s great bulk and dark glower (which is currently directed at the silently sweating General, poor demal), Lord Shang looks so much smaller than he actually is. Almost breakable. Non-threatening.

Mao Liang has never heard a more hilarious joke in their life. Non-threatening, their ass.

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” And oh, there is cheer injected into the advisor’s voice, now. Mao Liang watches in fascination as the general visibly cringes. “Ah, but that’s where you’d be wrong, General Peng! You see, this particular outpost actually is rather important, especially to our enemy. They’d just like for us to think that it isn’t. The larger outpost, here?”

Lord Shang sweeps his hand across the map to the larger outline that’s much closer to the Northern borders.

“That seems more of a threat to us, just like you pointed out earlier. And I agree, it does seem that way — however, this larger outpost is only a decoy. A red herring, if you will. It’s larger and more heavily manned specifically to distract us from this smaller outpost over here.”

General Peng flinches minutely, having his own contribution to the meeting so effortlessly and nonchalantly thrown back into his face as only an incorrect assumption rather than a logical deduction. He doesn’t speak, though, even to ask the advisor where he’d gotten such information from.

No one ever asks Lord Shang how he knows something. Everyone knows that if Lord Shang knows something, then he just knows it, and you are to trust it, because he is never, ever wrong.

It is frightening enough, having the advisor of the king know your name, personally, without you ever having introduced yourself to him. Small, meaningless facts about you, the names of your family, where your clan ancestral ritual grounds are (something that no demon tells anyone outside their own clan, upon pain of death. And having that just thrown out there in casual conversation? Terrifying.). What you had been doing, while undercover, just the week before….

Mao Liang’s first meeting with the Peak Lord Shang had been memorable, to say the least. They had come out of it with a very, very healthy fear and respect for the man, of course. Ask any demon in the Eternal Winter Palace — hell, any demon in the damn kingdom itself — and they would tell you the same.

“It’s this outpost we have to worry about.” Lord Shang is saying, tapping once again on the smaller outline. “It’s the center of their operations. Everything that actually matters is hidden underneath it. It is absolutely crucial that those of you in the field ensure that it will no longer be a problem. You should take, I’d say, around three platoons.”

Mao Liang glances down at the outline. The outpost is tiny, nestled into the belly of a valley. Just looking at it, they would guess there are only perhaps a thousand demons in total guarding the place. Sending in six thousand soldiers to take it out is a bit of overkill.

But, then again, if the real operations are all happening underground, concealed….

General Peng’s lips thin into a pale line. Then, the demal nods in acceptance. “If Lord Shang says so.”

“I do,” Lord Shang says, quietly, not even lifting his gaze back up from the map, staring down at where his own finger is pressed to the outpost.

General Peng’s entire face goes pale.

Before anything else can happen, like Lord Shang going completely silent and unhelpful (It’s happened in the past, Lord Shang deciding that they no longer required his advice, if they were so certain of their own (always subpar) intelligence on the matter. His majesty’s ire, in response, had been absolutely brutal on everyone even peripherally involved. Mao Liang had been lucky enough to not have been in attendance at that particular meeting, but they’d heard stories.)— before anything like that could happen, the king himself decided that enough is enough.

Mobei Jun shoves off the table and sends them all a sharp glare.

“Well,” his majesty says, powerful voice expanding into the air and filling the cavernous war room like it was something material. “You have your orders. What else do you want? Get out.”

As they all scramble to their feet and head for the door, Mao Liang is at the forefront. They hate tactical meetings. They’d rather be on the field. Or in their quarters, sleeping. Or in their quarters, reading. Anywhere that other people are not. This meeting has already drained their meager energy levels to almost nothing. It’s nap time. It’s nap time.

“Mao Liang,” Mobei Jun’s voice calls, and they fall to an abrupt stop just before the doors. “Stay behind.”

Demons, generals and soldiers and even fellow agents, stream past them, and they quietly despair. Fuck! They’d been so close!

They turn, and step back to the table. They execute a bow, working to keep any expression off their face entirely — especially when Lord Shang smiles at them. Oh, ancestors.

“There’s a mission that requires the best counter-intelligence agent that we have,” Lord Shang begins, as flattering as ever, and Mao Liang knows immediately that they’re in for a lot of work. Dammit. “Here, follow me. There’s no reason to do this in such a drafty, echoing hall. I’ll debrief you on the way to the kitchens.”

Ah! Mao Liang hasn’t eaten since yesterday! And from the glimmer in Lord Shang’s eye as the man smiles, he knows it too.

Another thing about Lord Shang, that Mao Liang particularly admires, is how the man cares, despite everything else. If you ever work directly underneath Lord Shang, you can always be absolutely certain that he will look out for you.

In the Northern Kingdom, there is no place safer.

#svsss prompts #shang qinghua #mobei jun #scum villain's self saving system #demon realm #war strategies #demons #demon spy OC #vodka answers #vodkassassin fanfiction #quiensecomioelpie

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thedaddie · 3 years ago

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Hey there! I would like to participate in the haikyuu matchup event.

female // hetero // 5'7 ft. // dark brown eyes // jet black hair

personality: I'm a quiet person who enjoys observing people and how they act in situations. If I find a person interesting or reversed, I initiate the conversation. I don't like small talk, but more than willing to find a topic we both enjoy. I love the arts (concerts, fine art, literature, philosophy) and science (animal bio, human bio, plant bio, multi universes). I get pretty passionate about certain topics I know. I love it when someone gets interested or wants to learn more.

love language: positive affirmations.

hobbies: reading, writing, drawing, and researching.

likes: owls (all kinds), night hours, rain showers.

dislikes: early mornings, compromised belief, excessive apologies.

hi babe!! thanks for requesting!! i match you with…

KITA SHINSUKE

YALLLLLLLL

ok so you guys met completely on accident!

you were in a hurry leaving the school to get home and bumped into someone (can you guess who?) and your stuff went flying 😐

you’re not too keen on staying and talking to this person cause at this point you’re late to get home AND you’re irritated so you just scoop up whatever is on the floor and walk away

it’s not until you actually arrive home when you realize YOU PICKED UP THE STRANGERS PHONE

AND IT SUCKS EVEN MORE BECAUSE YOU DIDNT EVEN LOOK AT THEM SO YOU DONT KNOW WHO IT IS AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO

but then the phone rang :D

you answered it obviously and here’s a NOT EXACT summary of what happened:

you: hello? 😟

??: hi you took my phone haha

you: i’m so sorry it was an accident i was in a hurry-

??: it’s fine! my name’s kita, do you wanna meet up and exchange some stuff? i think there’s a few things i’m missing that you probably have and vice versa

at this point you’re so embarrassed cause YOU TOOK SO MUCH AND HE HAS YOUR STUFF AHHHH

but luckily kita is super nice about it! you guys agree to meet at this park near your school to exchange everything the next morning

and you arrive and see him and recognize him as the captain of your schools volleyball team!

you were initially planning on just giving him his stuff and taking yours back then leaving but something about him just made you want to stay

after some casual chatting for a few minutes, he convinces you to walk to school with him

the entire time he had you laughing and blushing, it ended up being the most pleasant part of your day!

when you got to school he asked if you wanted to hang out sometime and you’re like ☺️omg yes☺️

SO NOW YOURE TOGETHER

and he’s honestly the most clingy person ever

like you wouldn’t expect it from his stoic mature ass mostly just cause he doesn’t like pda outside of the occasional peck or hand holding

but this man LIVES for cuddling

and at school he’s always by your side

this dude is never more than 10 ft away from you at all times i stg

plus you guys just talk for HOURS

once y’all find a conversation topic you run with it

some of his favorites of yours are the ones you have regarding philosophy, multiple universes, and plant bio (his farmer ass 🙄)

he lets you go on about things for however long you want! hearing you talk about what you find interesting warms his heart 😊

kita is the type of person who feels a lot but he doesn’t outwardly express it as often

around you though? he’s free to do whatever he feels comfortable with and he’s incredibly grateful that you’ll never judge him for it :)

he secretly wishes that one day you guys can pull a Notebook and kiss in the rain 😭

(because ever since he got with you, he’s been watching a lot of romantic movies 🥰)

one time you drew him and i swear he almost cried HE LOVED IT SO MUCH

he asked you to design some flyers for the team and whenever someone asked who drew them he was like “my girlfriend ☺️”

kita was never really a huge fan of reading but you got him reading all your favorites!! now whenever he passes by a bookstore he goes in and buys one he thinks you’ll like 😫

he ALWAYS walks you home from school!!

sun, snow, wind, rain HES THERE

even if he has practice he always allots some time for the rest of the team to warmup while he makes sure you get home safe 🥲

if you’re the type to write stories or poetry, he’ll always read them if you are comfortable!! he even tries to write things about you, but he gets embarrassed to show them AWWW

i truly do see kita as a classic romantic

because he’s dedicated and caring and wants to make sure you’re happy no matter what

his ways of displaying his love are somewhat foreign to you, as he isn’t the type to tell you what feels but instead show it

his love language is definitely acts of service!

things like letting you sleep in late while he wakes up early, going out of his way to buy you your favorite snack or a cute little owl plushie, and making sure you’ve fallen asleep after staying up too late with him on the phone

even though he’s not the telling type, he loves that you are :) nothing brightens his day more when he wakes up to a good morning text, little love notes in his locker, and love affirmations when he’s nervous before games

you’ve brought him out of his comfort zone a lot!! he’d never thought he be the one excited to go to a concert or fascinated by biology but you’ve brought so much love into his life it’s amazing 🥰

in the end PLEASE GIVE THIS BOY HIS KISS IN THE RAIN I LOVE YALL

—

moodboard:

“and that’s why i think that we should go see it-“

“no babe, no-“

“but yes! it would be so fun!”

kita chuckles, angling his head down.

currently, you’re begging your boyfriend to take you to see a movie and he is almost certain it will make you cry. but, you’re relentless.

“i just think it would be a good watch,” you clutch his arm tightly, stepping up slightly to kiss his cheek.

“and i think it’ll make you burst into tears.” he says with adorable smug smile.

the autumn wind is cool, just enough for it to make goosebumps rise on your arms. kita pulls you closer to keep you warm for the rest of the walk back to your house.

it isn’t long before you two are at your front door and you’re about to invite him inside when his phone chimes. he takes a peek at the screen and groans.

“i’ve gotta get back. tsumu and samu are fighting again.”

“go set them straight, captain.” with one last kiss and a final wave, kita sets back the way you came. before he can completely disappear out of your view, though, he turns around.

“call you later!” he shouts.

“and the movie?” you yell back.

“we’ll be there,” he smiles. “bring your tissues.”

—

songs for your matchup :)

thank you for requesting!! have a lovely day 😊

#🌷matchups #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq matchups #hq imagines #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #hq kita

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belliesandburps · 4 years ago

Text

(Commission) Tiny Training Accident (Hakari Accidental Vore)

This is a commissioned piece I wrote up for my pal @pspmaniac818 which features his OC, Chris Invicta, getting into a rough spot with my OC, Aidan, when the two are accidentally swallowed by my main OC, Hakari, in what has to be the mos ill-advised “shrunken training session“ a person could conjure. :P

Hakari didn't mind assisting his friends out in any way he could. However, sometimes, his friends asked him to do things that just made ZERO sense whatsoever. For example, Hakari could understand if Chris and Aidan needed a place to train. After all, both young men were fighters through and through. He could also understand that they may need someone to keep an eye out if Chris was going to use his ability to shrink both himself and Aidan while they trained in “tiny mode,” as Aidan so delicately put it.

But WHY then...did the two need to train in Hakari's mouth...? How often did Chris expect to face off against an enemy whilst being consumed by another enemy? Because right at this very moment, the young Saurian ninja was standing in the middle of his living quarters with his face-mask pulled down to reveal his soft, youthful face and scale-covered cheeks, with his fang-filled mouth nervously being held wide open as a shrunken Chris and a shrunken Aidan sparred atop Hakari's tongue.

Hakari was dumbfounded, but Chris was keen to remind him that such oddities DID occur. After all, it wasn't too long ago that Chris had swallowed a micro-assassin and Hakari himself had to duke it out from inside of Chris' stomach with the fiend. But honestly, what were the odds of something like THAT ever happening again?

Well, in Chris' case...a lot more likely than one would ever imagine...

Inside of Hakari's open mouth, Chris and Aidan sparred relentlessly. Chris jumped back (as best he could) atop the spongy tongue of the reptilian ninja and held up his arms in defense as Aidan bum-rushed him and delivered a flurry of punches, all of which Chris managed to block. “Ha! That all you g-EAAAAGH?!” Chris' cocky teasing was cut short when Aidan grappled Chris and slammed him to the 'floor', which, in this case, was Hakari's tongue. The young ninja grimaced while keeping his mouth held open as he salivated a little bit more upon getting more of a taste of Chris' body. All that battling it out was making both young men incredibly sweaty, causing their salty yet not unpleasant flavor to stimulate Hakari's taste buds.

Instinctively, his body was telling him to swallow then and there, but the young Saurian resisted and kept his mouth held open. He hated to admit it, but his friends tasted oddly delicious...

Aidan grinned cockily down at Chris, baring his own mouth full of fangs as smoke spewed from the corners of his mouth. “Ya oughta watch yer footin' there, punk,” Aidan teased, pressing his boot down on Chris' chest. Chris could feel Aidan's toes curl up as his foot compressed against his pectorals and ground ever so slightly. The sweaty Ignis mage smirked at Chris and added, “Bet'cha wish I didn't have this boot on right now, huh, ya kinky fucker...”

Chris blushed a little, his many fetishes absolutely no secret to Aidan (or Hakari, despite the latter's discomfort). But it didn't stop him from grinning right back at Aidan and adding, “And YOU always forget to not let your guard down, tough guy...”

Aidan wasn't sure what Chris meant, until the invulnerable young man brought his legs up and kicked Aidan's back, making him stumble forward while Chris rolled back up to his feet and wrapped his arms around Aidan for a firm bearhug. Despite Aidan being visibly toned, Chris' power and his constant training had given him some considerable muscle mass. In fact, even Hakari had noted that Chris was looking a lot buffer than he used to look when they'd first met one another on the job.

And Aidan? Well, let's just say he knew first hand how Chris' body had toned up. Not that he'd ever admit it, since it would imply Chris was starting to get stronger than he was. And as both Hakari and Chris knew full well, Aidan wasn't the type to ever admit anyone was superior to him in any way.

As the two continued wrestling inside of Hakari's mouth, Hakari found himself salivating even more, drooling more heavily around the two shrunken fighters and causing their “training grounds” to grow more slippery. He really didn't mean to be doing that. But their battering around inside of his mouth was practically lathering the ninja's taste buds with their salty (and smoky, in Aidan's case) flavor. He almost whimpered to himself as he tried desperately not to swallow them down.

Aidan's hand became engulfed in flames as he punched Chris right in the dome. The firepunch was enough to make Chris break his grip, even if the fire itself had no effect on his body. Chris charged again, but Aidan sweep-kicked Chris' legs as he advanced, causing him to trip near the front of Hakari's open mouth. With Aidan near the back, the young pyromancer grinned wickedly as both hands became engulfed in flames.

“NOW yer in for it, tough guy...”

And with those last words, Aidan began firing a flurry of fireballs at Chris, who managed to evade each one.

Hakari's eyes bugged out of his head as tiny fireballs shot out of his mouth. Fortunately, due to Aidan's size, the flaming projectiles were tiny and thus, were blown out long before they could hit the walls. Didn't make the action any less unnerving for Hakari. “Careful, Aidan...!!” Hakari mumbled as best he could with his mouth hanging open like that.

But Aidan just snorted and said, “Stop bein' such a baby, lizard-boy!”

The ninja sputtered indignantly but held his tongue (literally). He'd learned very early on that the spitfire mage was not someone keen on being especially respectful to most people. To quote Nara, Aidan was, in her own words, 'a flaming dick'.

Speaking of Nara, the leading mercenary swung the door open and sauntered up to her friend with an amused grin.

“Yo! How's tiny-trainin' goin'?” Nara asked, walking right up to Hakari and slapping him on the back as she casually passed by him.

This...was a mistake...

Because the instant Nara slapped his back, Hakari stumbled forward slightly and the force of that stumble made both Chris and Aidan, who were once again in a grapple-hold, fall backwards to the back of Hakari's mouth.

“Gah! What the hell-?!” Aidan shouted, trying to pry himself up from out of Hakari's throat.

But Chris had a different look on his face. He simply had a dull look and muttered, “...Ahhhhh crap...”

He'd been down this road before, he knew exactly what was coming next. And poor Hakari; despite trying so desperately to avoid giving in to his inherently predatory instincts, once he had those two in the back of his mouth...?

*GLLUUUULLK!*

Hakari couldn't help but gulp heartily, causing both Chris and Aidan to be pulled down from the back of his mouth and through his gullet. Both young men were pinned together as the fleshy, rubbery throat muscles pulsated around them, pushing them further and further down Hakari's throat. Going down a throat was a tight fit as is, but bunched together in the process like that was even worse, especially for Aidan. The pyromancer growled and thrashed against Chris as the throat itself, baring his fangs as he shouted, “Gah! Watch it, punk!”

Chris rolled his eyes and muttered, “Little hard to do that from where I'm at, don'tcha think...?” He didn't say it, but there was an implied 'dumbass' at the end of his sentence.

Outside, there was a sizable lump pushing down from Hakari's slender, black spandex-concealed throat. It was the size of an orange sliding down his neck slowly while Hakari clenched his eyes shut and bared his fangs, really working his friends down his gullet. He rested his fingers against the lump, feeling it pass down his throat and almost pushing into it to really guide them down as his head lurched forward and he gulped thickly yet again, causing a trail of saliva to trickle down his chin.

As he felt the two slide further and further down, he thumped his armor-clad chest to help work them past his collarbone.

Inside, Chris could feel a loud, rhythmic thumping reverberate all around him. At first, he thought it was the young ninja thumping his chest. But he quickly deduced that it was, in fact, Hakari's heartbeat, rhythmically beating at an accelerated rate all. The way it thumped almost felt comforting to Chris for a moment, but that comfort was short-lived when he and Aidan squeezed past the esophagus and slowly squeezed past the thick, rubbery entrance to Hakari's stomach.

The sour stench of the young snake-man's innards hit both Chris and Aidan like a dump truck, and smelled about as pleasant. Chris grimaced with Aidan hacked with disgust, though Ignis were used to deeply unpleasant smells, due to their over-exposure to brimstone and sulfur. Didn't make the innards smell any better for him though. The two were worked further and further down until, with one last especially hearty...

*GLUUUUUUOOOLLP!!!*

...Hakari had successfully swallowed both of his friends down. That lump finally squeezed past his athletic chest and collarbone, and both Chris and Aidan unceremoniously plopped into Hakari's stomach. The Saurian teenager gasped heartily, drool trickling from his mouth as he huffed and caught his breath.

“Graahhh...haaaaaah...” Hakari huffed with relief, using his forearm to wipe his mouth clean and lick his fangs. He stood there, panting and catching his breath after such an endeavor to work those two down.

But as he caught his breath, it sloooooowly dawned on him as to what he'd just done. Slowly but surely, his inverted eyes began to widen with realization and steady horror. And once it finally clicked...?

…

“GAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!” Hakari cried out in horror, startling the passing Nara, who immediately turned to see Hakari rushing up to her with a look of abject, petrified terror on his youthful, slightly scaly face.

“Jeez, dude! What the hell's wrong with-”

“-N-Nara...!! I-I just...I ATE CHRIS AND AIDAN!!!” Hakari cried out in a comically panicked manner as he rushed to Nara like a panicked child rushing to their parent.

Nara blinked with surprise and said, “Ya did?”

All Hakari could do was nod shakily in an anxious and scared manner.

But then, the mercenary grinned and added, “That's awesome!” She even knelt down and poked the young ninja in his tight, body-suit concealed abs and asked, “How're ya likin' it in there, boys?”

Hakari's panicked expression was frozen in place, as was the rest of Hakari's body. Even though he still looked panicked, he added, in a much more deadpanned manner, “...I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation...”

Inside of Hakari's stomach, both Chris and Aidan steadily pushed themselves up and took in their warm, stinking surroundings. It was dark inside of Hakari's stomach, with everything around the two young men feeling really damp and slimy. The stomach lining all around them gurgled and groaned idly, with something dripping down from the 'walls' all around them. There was a soft pulsation all around the two, from the idle burbling of Hakari's stressed organ.

Chris looked around and sighed to himself, muttering, “There has to be a record for this sorta thing happening to a single person...”

The two were startled somewhat they felt the stomach constrict itself and heard Hakari's bellowing voice call out to them. “A-Are you two all right?!” Hakari shouted in a very panicked tone of voice.

Despite himself, Chris smiled and gently pat the front of the stomach lining where he could sense Hakari grasping and leaning down to check on his friends. “Relax, dude, we're just fine in here,” Chris assured the young, anxious ninja.

But Aidan scoffed dismissively and tried in vein to wipe himself down of the slime that had globbed over his bare body. “Speak fer yerself, punk. Told'ja trainin' in lizard lips' mouth was a stupid fuckin' idea...”

“Oh, quit your bellyaching,” Chris responded back with a roll of his eyes, adding, “With the amount of other mages and bad guys who can shrink you down'n gobble you up, this is good practice.”

“This only happened ONE other time, fucker. And ya know full fuckin' well who gulped me down the first time, don'tcha,” Aidan snarled.

At that, Chris' smirk turned more impish as he slowly licked his lips and said, “To be fair, you DO have a real smoky flavor...”

Aidan's hand went ablaze as he balled his hand into a fist and said, “I swear, one'uh these days, I'mma find a way to light yer ass on fire...”

“Well, we know ONE way you can do that,” Chris responded in a slightly suggestive manner.

Aidan snorted and waved the fire from his hand away, causing smoke to spew around him as he said, “Kinky fucker...” He brushed past Chris and started banging on the stomach lining up front, making Hakari's belly gurgle around them. “Yo! Lizard-boy! Get us the fuck outta here already! It fuckin' stinks in here!”

The banging caused a sudden hiccup to erupt from the Saurian.

Outside, Hakari blushed and covered his mouth, nodding nervously as one hand rested gently against his stomach in a protective manner.

He was deeply relieved to know that his friends were okay. He knew Chris was invulnerable to this sort of thing, and that Aidan has resistance to extreme heats, to the point where he may as well have been immune to digestion. But still, the thought of his friends trapped in his stomach made him an anxious wreck. He didn't know if they could suffocate and didn't want to chance it.

It caused so much anxiety that Hakari's stomach felt like it was tying itself into a knot, which only made it gurgle heavily all around Chris and Aidan, making them both stumble back. Hakari huffed in a breathless manner and paced around nervously while Nara looked on. “H-How am I gonna get them out...?” Hakari muttered softly and anxiously to himself.

Nara simply shrugged and said, “How'd ya get yer prey out normally?” Hakari glanced back at her with confusion as Nara went on. “Ya always used to say that, when ya had to interrogate bad guys, you'd go full snake-boy mode'n swallow them whole to make them think you'd digest them until they cracked, right? How'd ya let 'em out then?”

Hakari thought for a moment, drumming his fingers against his abs in thought. “...W-Well, I used my gag reflex to regurgitate them back up, which, frankly, was never pleasant. But it was different then. They weren't shrunken, so they filled up my stomach a lot more, which made it much easier; albeit more painful, to push them back up. But Chris and Aidan are so small that I don't even think I could push them up...tch, I KNEW this was a bad idea...”

Nara rolled her eyes as Hakari's nervousness once again kicked in. It never failed to be adorable to her the way this stoic young ninja turned into such an anxious mess so quickly sometimes. She walked up behind Hakari and gently patted him on the back and said, “Chill, snake-eyes. If anything, that oughta make it EASIER to cough Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit back up.”

Hakari blinked and was about to open his mouth, but-

“-The second one was Aidan,” both Nara AND Chris said in unison, which seemed to answer Hakari's question and enrage Aidan at the same time.

“H-Hey! Fuck you punks!” Aidan snarled, which Nara could hear over Hakari's turbulent tummy, which made her snicker.

Still, Hakari didn't look especially comforted or confident. “Okay, but then, HOW do I get them out if they can't be worked up normally...?”

“Easy! Just burp 'em up,” Nara replied in a shockingly casual manner.

Hakari glared at her with a deadpanned look in his eyes. “...Nara, please be serious-”

“-I AM bein' serious. If they're so small, all ya gotta do is push out a big one and that oughta lift those two up'n outta yer gut like nothin',” Nara explained.

“Actually, she's right,” Chris explained, causing Hakari to glance down at his stomach again. “Every time I swallow one'uh my pals, I usually just let out a HUGE burp and they go flying outta my gut and out to safety, easy peasey!”

Again, Hakari blinked to himself and added, “...How many times have you done this...?”

“Who cares, ya scaly nerd? Just get burpin' so I can shower already, fuck!” Aidan growled out.

...Hakari was starting to see why Nara referred to Aidan as “Tweedle Dipshit” right about now...

But still, there was this apprehensive look on Hakari's face. “...I-If I'm going to do that, can I, umm...have some privacy, please...? I'd rather you not hear me being so gross...”

Nara stared at Hakari with a bored look on her face.

“...Dude, it's ME. I guarantee I can top anything you let out, so stop bein' so prissy for once'n just relax'n let loose,” Nara said.

Hakari blushed at being called 'prissy' and turned away with a soft, almost petulant grumbling under his breath. But, nonetheless, he had a job to do. So, he nodded and took a breath, kneading his fingers into his tight, concave stomach to try and work something up. He opened his mouth expectingly and nervously, trying to work something up.

Nothing came out.

In unison, Nara, Chris and Aidan all had the same response. “Seriously...?”

“I-I'm trying! I don't know how to do this sort of thing on command!” Hakari replied defensively with a light blush on his scaly cheeks, adding, “It's not like they were especially filling that my stomach has any excess pressure, n-no offense, guys...”

Chris snickered to himself and shook his head. Despite the situation, it was genuinely adorable how 'pure' his Saurian friend was. Those ninjas must've hammered good manners into Hakari's brain whether he liked it or not. So, Chris pat the stomach lining in front of him gently and spoke up in a loud and concise voice to ensure Hakari could hear him.

“It's alright, man. I guess it's hard to explain but the best way I can describe it is, you gotta sorta swallow air into your stomach, like use the back'uh your throat to do it.”

To demonstrate his point, Chris held up his finger and gulped down some air while his gullet rumbled. Once he'd taken in enough, Chris thumped his broad chest and let out a pretty loud belch.

“Ah, see? Nothing to it!”

Aidan scoffed dismissively, muttering, “Pussy...”

Whether that was addressed to Hakari or Chris was anyone's guess.

Still, Hakari nodded and tried to follow Chris' advice. He tried to swallow air, having a hard go at it, but Chris called out, “Make sure you feel a weird gurgle in your throat when you do. That's how you know you're doing it right!” Hakari nodded, even though Chris couldn't see him, and continued sucking down air in a way that didn't quite look right. More like a fish bobbing its mouth in and out for air.

But eventually, he got it down, and there was a rhythmic throbbing in Hakari's throat as he managed to gulp down some air. Chris and Aidan could feel Hakari's stomach lining tense and gurgle all around them as he took in more air.

“Atta boy,” Chris assured him as Hakari continued taking in more air.

Hakari could feel his belly expand ever so slightly with the influx of oxygen. It was a dull ache, but told him that he was doing something right. And once he'd felt his stomach take in as much as he could gulp down, Hakari's hand clenched his gut tightly and his mouth lurched open in the form of a pretty deep burp.

“BRRAAAAAUUUUUURRRPH!!!”

It rumbled out of Hakari for just over two seconds and had some decent rumble and volume to it. When it ended, Hakari blushed and covered his mouth, immediately excusing himself in an embarrassed tone of voice, even though a burp was exactly the rest they wanted. Unfortunately, it wasn't the ONLY result Hakari was hoping for.

“Pfft, weakass,” Aidan groaned in an unimpressed tone of voice, adding, “Even Invicta could get a bigger one than that, ya lil lizard brain! C'mon!”

“Not helpful, asshole,” Chris chimed in, nudging Aidan back.

But eventually, Nara rolled her eyes and headed back back to the cooler and returned with a few 2 Liter bottles of soda. “'Kay, this is embarrassing, dude. Just, here,” Nara insisted as she handed Hakari a soda bottle. “Chug that as hard as ya can. The soda oughta do the rest.”

“...I'm, w-well, not the biggest soda drinker-”

“-Just chug or I'mma fill yer belly with fire and smoke us out myself, ya hear me?!” Aidan shouted impatiently.

Hakari yelped nervously and immediately wasted no time unscrewing the bottle and bringing the soda right to his lips. He dipped his head back and proceeded to chug heartily. Hakari's face tightened with discomfort. He liked sweets as much as the next person, but he always preferred a soothing tea to an excessively sugary soda.

Nonetheless, the bubbly liquids poured down his gullet, causing his slender throat to bob in and out rapidly as he sucked the beverage down with reluctant gusto.

Inside, Chris and Aidan's confines were suddenly overcome with a flood of sugary, bubbly water that spilled out from the esophagus and pooled into the bottom of Hakari's stomach. It rained down on the two young men, causing their bodies to become wet with a combination of soda and stomach juices. All around them, Hakari's belly gurgled and bubbled intensely from such an influx of carbonation all at once. The stomach lining itself seemed to expand somewhat from the gas being produced by the soda.

“Well, this oughta be fun,” Chris said in a slightly dejected yet also amused sort of tone. Again, he'd been down this road maaaany times before...on both sides of the voracious spectrum really...

Hakari grimaced when enough soda went down. He TRULY wasn't a fan of the stuff or the feeling of having so much carbonation festering in his belly all at once, which he could feel had become just slightly bloated from the beverages carbonated emissions.

He promptly pulled the bottle away from his lips and gasped breathlessly...then almost immediately unleashed a HUGE burp.

“BRAAAAAAAUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAPH!!!!!!!”

The poor young ninja lurched in an embarrassingly uncouth manner as that deep, bellowing eruption blasted past his soft lips for a good few seconds straight. Inside, Chris and Aidan felt their confines get rattled about from the force of that expulsion of carbon dioxide all being rushed out from the stomach at once. It caused the stomach lining to quiver and gurgle intensely as it sank into itself. However, both young shrunken fighters were still stuck within the ninjas stomach.

Hakari blushed profusely when it ended, while Nara snickered and gave the ninja a thumbs up. He was about to excuse himself, but there was so much pressure in his tight stomach that the instant that wall-rattler had expelled from his bowels, that the second Hakari opened his mouth, he paused, grabbed his belly and let loose another titanic belch. And with it, no shrunken friends came flying out of his gaping, fang-filled maw.

Poor Hakari was an embarrassed mess, who promptly covered his mouth and felt his cheeks burning so bright that he was certain they were going to spontaneously combust.

“...E-Excuse me...” Hakari mumbled in a deeply embarrassed manner, hoping to the stars above that no one outside of his quarters could hear him.

But Nara just laughed and said, “Hahaha, damn, snake-eyes! For a dude so damn uptight'n well-mannered, you can really belt 'em out, can'tcha!” She gave him a hearty pat on the back, which just caused Hakari to hiccup from the pat and blush anew.

But inside, Aidan was far less impressed. “Tch, weakass. Even Chris 'ere could let out bigger ones than that!” Aidan shouted.

Chris shrugged and smirked. “I mean, you're not WRONG,” he said in an innocuous matter of fact tone of voice, patting his stomach with pride. But then he looked up and added, “That wasn't too bad, but it wasn't big enough, man. Think we're gonna have to lend you a hand there!” Chris called out so Hakari could hear him.

The ninja looked down at his stomach nervously, hugging it protectively. “...H-How...?”

Aidan grinned wickedly as he marched up to the front of Hakari's stomach alongside Chris. “Shall we?” He asked, baring his fangs with ill-intent.

Chris rolled his eyes at Aidan's grin then muttered, “...Sorry in advance, dude...” up to Hakari.

Then, without warning, Aidan POUNDED the stomach lining alongside Chris with enough force to cause it to quiver and ripple around intensely. The impact was so great that Hakari felt his abs jostle just EVER so slightly from the strength of Chris' abilities and Aidan's natural strength and speed. Hakari lurched for a moment with one hand wrapped around his stomach and the other clamped against his mouth. But that hand was soon blown back as a massive, guttural belch expelled from Hakari's mouth...

“HOOOOOOOUUUURRRRRAAAAAUUUUUUURRR-BLAAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRRRUUUUUUPH!!!!!!!!!!!”

It was one of the most powerful and bellowing eructations Hakari was pretty sure he'd ever let out. The decidedly un-ninja-like sound exploded from past his lips with such force that a few strands of saliva splattered from his maw. Nara whistled, clearly impressed while Hakari gasped breathlessly and slumped forward, drooling slightly and hating every second of this...

Even more so considering the fact that the two STILL weren't released from his stomach.

“...This is...the last time I ever...uurrrOoOoOorRrrp...guh, pardon...I ever train with you two again...” Hakari groaned while his stomach churned deeply. He grimaced and burped again, too sickly to even blush properly (though he DID at least excuse himself again).

Again, Aidan scoffed at how unimpressed he was at the ninjas “gastric talents,” while Chris smiled a bit apologetically but kept throttling the front of Hakari's stomach alongside Aidan. Their confines gurgled and churned ominously, bubbling intensely from their rough treatment. Again, they felt it rattle with another lengthy belch from the outside and folding into itself with a deep glorp in response to Hakari slumping with each expulsion.

But then...

*GWUUUOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRBL!!*

There was an especially ominous burbling that erupted from deep within Hakari's stomach. This was enough to stop both Chris and Aidan from battering away and take in their surroundings a bit cautiously.

“...That mean it's workin'...?” Aidan asked.

Chris' face soured somewhat. “...Unfortunately...yeah, I think so...”

Outside, Hakari groaned and held a hand over his mouth and groggily mumbled, “Urgh...I don't...I don't feel so good...”

Even Nara cringed a bit when she heard an especially intense churning erupt from the ninja's overly abused belly. Hakari's scaly cheeks were a copper color, yet, with that churn, his face seemed to go green. He lurched for a moment and went wide-eyed, when suddenly, his stomach hitched heavily; like the organ itself had bounced in his body. Hakari muffled what sounded like a really wet and deep burp, but looked even sicker after that.

“...O-Oh Gods...” was all Hakari could say before he slumped down and wretched onto the floor.

Nara grimaced with disgust and disgustedly declared, “Uuuuugh...party foul, dude...!”

Hakari threw up violently, heaving again as more bile expelled from his drooling mouth. Until eventually, he was so exhausted, he slumped onto the ground, one hand supporting him against the floor and the other wrapped around his aching belly.

When it finally stopped spewing out of him, Hakari whimpered breathlessly, tearing up somewhat from the deeply unpleasant feeling of having his empty stomach emptied even more from that onslaught. But not before checking in the sick and, to something resembling relief, finding Chris and Aidan desperately in need of a shower, but no worse for the ware.

“...That was so fuckin' gross...” Aidan growled in disgust as he tried in vein to wipe himself clean.

“...Seriously,” Chris chimed in with agreement, but nonetheless looked up at Hakari and asked, “...You okay, man?”

Hakari nodded weakly but cringed in pain. Nara had seen far worse, in truth, so she knelt down and smiled sympathetically at the ninja, gently rubbing his back while he suppressed the urge to whimper like a hurt puppy. The night had been more than embarrassing enough for him.

“...N-Never...ever again...” was all Hakari could manage whilst trying to catch his breath.

“...Yeaaah, that's fair,” Chris said.

“Y'know what else is fair?” Nara chimed in, adding, “You two bozos cleanin' this mess up.”

“...Ah fuck,” Aidan mumbled but didn't argue for once...

“Don't whine,” Chris chimed in.

“Hey, fuck you, I didn't whine, ya lil jerkoff!” Aidan snapped, earning a roll of the eyes from both Chris and Nara. Hakari probably would've joined them, but with how sensitive his stomach was after being sick, he was worried rolling his eyes might make him dizzy and, thus, sick all over again.

Fortunately, the outpost had a few spare living quarters and Nara had given Chris and Aidan their own space. So, after cleaning up the mess the two had caused, they both had a very, very, VERY thorough showering. Naturally, Chris and Aidan showered together, scrubbing each others bodies under the steaming water as thoroughly as they could...and maybe getting a little frisky with one another as they did. Shortly after that, both men got changed, with Chris in a spare black T-Shirt and jeans while Aidan rocked a dark red tanktop and sleeveless vest with black cargo shorts.

Hakari, meanwhile, was still in his ninja gear, sitting on the bed in his own quarters, groaning while Nara sat next to him and gingerly rubbed his aching stomach in slow circles. He huffed breathlessly and leaned into Nara's palm, muttering a soft 'thank you' to her as she continued tending to his aching tum.

Nara just smirked and gave Hakari's abs a gentle pat, adding, “Y'know, one'uh these days, you're gonna have to learn to say 'no' to these weird-ass requests you get from those two.”

“...Urgh, you would think training in someone's mouth would be outlandish, but there WAS that incident with that Microbe fiend a while back, so perhaps, Chris wants to be extra cautious...” Hakari suggested, voice still a bit weary after his ordeal.

Nara snorted and shook her head. “Bullshit. You'n I both know it's 'cuz that fucker's kinkier than a hedonist at that olive oil orgy from three years ago.”

Even in his groggy state, Hakari slowly turned to Nara and gave her a very deadpanned look, muttering, “...Dare I ask...?”

“If you value your delicate sensibilities, naw...probably not,” Nara insisted with a smirk, one that grew wider when she saw Hakari look away and shudder.

She continued gently stroking his belly, then leaned down and rested her head against his concave stomach, listening to it burble as she stroked it. Hakari blushed a little then promptly pulled his face-mask on, glad he could at least TRY to mask how easily flustered he got without two friends in his mouth or stomach.

“Man, it's really noisy today, huh,” Nara noted, hearing Hakari's stomach churn deeply enough to make Hakari cringe a bit.

“Mph, well, it's been rather overworked, thanks to those two...” Hakari muttered, huffing under his mask.

“Maybe we oughta give you two some more private time to fix that then, huh?” Chris suddenly teased alongside Aidan, who smirked with his arms folded at the sight.

Hakari immediately yelped and sat upright, only to immediately clear his throat and pretend he didn't just make an embarrassingly flustered sound. Nara laughed but showed enough mercy to sit up away from Hakari's stomach, gesturing for the two to come back in.

Chris and Aidan sat down across from them on the adjacent couch.

“So! Feeling any better?” Chris asked.

“Ah, he's fine,” Nara insisted before Hakari could respond, heartily patting Hakari on the back and making the young ninja jut forward slightly from how firm the pat was.

“I'm sure snake-eyes here can handle a pair'uh spicy meatballs like yourselves,” she assured them, before adding, “WHY he had to, I'm not so sure...buuuut you do you, Invicta...”

Aidan snorted with amusement as Chris scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah, any excuse t'mop this punk around fer a bit'n lizard lips' mouth at least made for a cushy spot to train. I'm just bummed I couldn't let loose with my full fire power...” Aidan muttered, flexing his hand out as fire emerged from his palm.

“...I'm not...” Hakari insisted with a look of dread on his face at the mere thought of Aidan 'letting loose' inside of him like that. After that, Hakari cleared his throat and said, “The important thing is that you two are safe. But...please, can we keep the training OUTSIDE of peoples mouths...preferably MINE...?”

Chris just laughed and nodded assuringly with, “Hehe, well, I can't promise the latter part, but yeah, I assure you, no one's gonna make you 'open up' again like that.” Then, Chris' smile turned a bit cheeky as he leaned in and added, “But be honest though, PART of you prooooobably enjoyed the taste, right?”

Hakari nervously tugged his mask higher, and was about to deny that claim when Nara once again chimed in and said, “You kiddin'?! I once had to pull this scaly dork's arm soooo long t'get him to eat me in his whole snake-dude form and once he finally did? He was rumblin' like a damn motorboat!”

...Even with his facemask on, Hakari's face was practically steaming at Nara's remarks.

...Just then...

*GRRRRROOOOOOOOOOMBL!!!!!*

A deeply loud and hungry grumbling bellowed from the room.

Instantly, Chris, Aidan and Nara all turned to Hakari, who at this point, was so red that he looked like he'd just consumed six ghost peppers at once.

Slowly, he looked down at his stomach in a way that seemed to say, ‘...Seriously...?’ (As if Hakari hadn’t endured enough embarrassment for one day...)

Tentatively, the young ninja wrapped his arms around his grumbling stomach in a desperate effort to calm his stomach down. It didn't work.

Chris smirked and asked, “Why, Hakari...is all our talk of eating people making our favorite Saurian hungry...?”

Hakari nervously cleared his throat and hopped up from the bed, saying, “Aherm, y-yes...w-well...I-I'll be in the mess hall getting something to eat...w-would anybody else like to join me?”

Despite himself, Chris shrugged and gave his own stomach a firm pat, adding, “Eh, I could eat. What about you guys?”

Aidan stood up and said, “You kiddin'? I'm fuckin' starvin' 'ere...”

“Good,” Nara insisted before getting up and wrapping an arm around Hakari's shoulder and tugging the young flustered ninja close. “Lead the way, snake-eyes!”

Hakari groaned to himself with a weary sigh, but nonetheless carried on.

With any luck, maybe he could EAT the embarrassment away.

But given the company he was keeping, he had a distinct feeling that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon...

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 13

first time readers click here 💖

TWs/Summary: In this house, we ship Reader/Tony's Rolls-Royce. Reader and Tony being dorks on a date. That's it that's the chapter. Lots of sass and Tony being Tony.

A question for my readers: Are you still invested? How's the slow burn? Is everything realistic? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

As usual, my beta is @miscmarvelwritings . I love her.

"Nice digs, Cupcake."

"Nice ride, Tin Man."

The sass fell from my lips, warm and familiar, paving the way for our upcoming debut like the old, soft living room rug. Any awkwardness I had expected there to be left the moment I saw Tony pull up to my front gate in his Royce: the man was just that extra. The size of my estate, the five-figure outfit of mine - it paled in comparison to his own clout.

In a world where my choices were usually distributed between stuck-up rich boys or insecure middle-class men, Tony was a fresh drink of water with his absolute indifference towards my and his own net worth.

I wasn't afraid to admire said ride, either. Being a huge petrolhead was what got me interested in engineering, physics and computer sciences in the first place. The desire for speed grew into thirst for knowledge: how to get more horsepower, how to tune, how to mod. No mechanic took an eighteen year old rich-girl seriously even when I had all the lingo right, I had to be a step ahead, at all times, if I wanted my ride to be the best. And I never settled for less than that.

"No driver?" I inquired for the reason behind the unusual behaviour. After all, a Rolls' wasn't the kind of car you drive personally. All the amenities it had, it had in the back.

"Gave Happy a day off," Tony remarked absently. I noticed the small quirk of his eyebrow, however. He was intrigued.

I decided to give it a shot. "So what, this thing packs, what, about five-fifty horses?" I mused, watching Tony nearly swerve into the opposite lane. "At two and a half tons, it's still gotta be pretty quick with that V12-turbo. How fast it go?" The satisfaction was immeasurable, as pleasant to my soul as sitting in a heated leather chair with the smell of a new car, engine quietly rumbling in front of me. And by quietly I mean, it was focus-or-you'll-miss-it kind of quiet.

"Well aren't you full of surprises, baby girl," Tony grinned; a happy, excited grin even. It made his face lose ten years of age just like that. "Zero to sixty in five and a half seconds," He said after a moment.

"Not bad," I said, sounding impressed. I already knew that but I wasn't planning on robbing Tony out of well deserved praise for his choice in vehicles.

"Got a ride of your own?" He asked with a smile, like he didn't know it already. No background check would have skipped my three speeding tickets, but I concur. This game was fun.

"I do, actually. It's a 2008 Range Rover. Supercharged," I added in the end, just to emphasise.

"A big car for such a little girl," Tony whistled playfully.

"I'm compensating," I deadpanned. "I'm a little slow on the uptake, y'know, so my Rangie with five hundred horses makes up for it. Gotta keep it balanced."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Five hundred? Haven't heard about that, it comes with three-ninety-five in stock," His eyebrow wiggled. "Tuned it?" He cast me a contemplative glance.

"Yup," I exclaimed happily. As far as the date, I would have been utterly ecstatic to talk about cars all evening. Screw the boring "where do you see yourself in five years" questions, talk to me about your favourite engine swaps. Concept cars, give me those. Monster trucks? Yes, please. Vintage low-riders? Couldn't wait to get my grubby little hands on one. Gimmee!

Tony kept his silence and kept his press smile starting the moment we set foot on getting out of the car. The place he'd taken me to was ridiculously upscale and fancy; the valet hesitated only for a second before catching the keys Tony so carelessly tossed in his direction. There was almost no fear in his body language when the boy approached the massive, expensive vehicle.

The hostess smiled big at Tony and gave me the world's biggest stink-eye when he looked the other way but what else is new? As soon as she left us in the privacy of our booth, I didn't hesitate to stick my tongue at her retreating back. A brief lapse in maturity, if you will.

Tony cackled, growing suddenly serious. "Did she bother you? I can get her fired. I should get her fired."

"Nah," I shrugged. "Don't really care, just wanted to showcase my amazing sense of humour." Snorting, I gave Tony a wink and a secretive grin.

"You really don't give a fuck, do you," His eyebrows twitched again, a sign of mild interest that I noted during our routine sciencing time together. Tony was incredibly expressive if one took the time to observe.

"I could suck your dick under the table right now," I answered honestly. "It's just that when God gave out things like dignity and shame, I wasn't home. Too many fun things to do, y'know," I spoke as casually as I could even though I was dying of laughter inside.

Eyes bulging, jaw hanging mid-way to the floor. Tony was serving Looks™ and I didn't mean just the white tee and purple blazer combo. "Princess, you're going to be the fucking death of me!" He took a sip from his water glass, smirking.

Finally releasing my mirth, I gathered my hands in a lock in front of me. His own, warm and calloused, reached over - I allowed the brief intimacy, clasping them, fiddling with the leather band of his watch. For a moment, it was just us, sitting in the dim light, discovering each other anew to Robert Johnson singing the blues and NYC bustling with life just behind the wall.

The waiter took our orders - and if I totally butchered the Italian, Tony was gentleman enough not to make any remarks.

"Somehow, every time I am with you, you both manage to meet my expectations to a T and surprise me at the same time," I wasn't able to completely ignore my nerves. My hand was still loosely in his and he didn't mind at all, me messing with his watch.

"How so?"

"I'm going to loosely quote someone, bear with me." Mr Davies's words popped into my mind just as I was wondering how to best articulate my feelings. "You're eccentric and interesting because it's, well, it's you, because it would be much weirder if we'd be sitting here and making boring small-talk and asking each other the genetic get-to-know-you questions," I briefly paused to sip my Dom Peringon and stare at our hands. Gathering my wits. "That would be why I don't do dates. It sounds so tedious on paper, just sorting through people until a person that's not absolutely mind-numbing comes around."

Tony was silent for a moment, the sheen of his eyes, the faraway look; he was lost in memories. Probably remembering all the girls he had charmed before. I didn't doubt it was easy for him: his smile was distracting and people usually were attracted to shiny things. He shone plenty. Also, most people were stupid, they never cared to look past the golden wrapper. I was convinced there was a diamond under it. But then again, I was biased.

"I've never thought about it that way, but I guess you're right," He finally said, serious. "With Pepper, at least, it was. Come to think of it, we never had that much in common, besides Stark Industries and her willingness to put up with my shit." It was painful for him to talk about her, that much was obvious. His laugh was forced and sardonic.

I, on the other hand, never understood why they got together in the first place. Or maybe I did - but the cold, composed Pepper and the chaotic, energetic Tony reminded me too much of my own parents. All four people in this fucked up equation could have been much happier if they choose... What? Being alone? That was terrifying, too.

I kept quiet, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

"You know, this is so bizarre. Even an eighteen year old kid has got it figured out," He suddenly said, his tone bitter like the coffee that he loved.

"Woah, slow down," I put up a hand. "I never said I know what to do. I just said I know what NOT to do." The 'kid' remark would have made me eye-roll so hard my skull would crack any day. In this context, however, it was pretty spot on.

Tony snorted. "And how did you come by that information, pray tell, Baby?"

I huffed. "Have you met my parents?" We simultaneously cringed and I hurried to erase that mental image. "I make fun of myself for being into old dudes all the time," I made air quotes around the phrase that made Tony scoff, "But, honestly speaking, I've never even been on a date. Like a real one. Usually it's twenty minutes and I'm falling asleep mid-conversation. People can't seem to keep up with me or something," I felt genuinely dejected. "So many meaningless questions, so many downright idiotic comments. From men," I pointed out the obvious. "My mother used to tell me she thought I was gay because I didn't act like a girl... Whatever that means."

"That sounds pretty shitty," Tony was studying me like one would have been looking at an exotic animal in a zoo. "That said, I agree."

"That I don't act like a girl?" I teased him, the left corner of my mouth tilting upward. "Fuck that noise. I want to drive fast cars, drink straight liquor and have orgasms. If that makes me a dude... I look pretty good for a dude in a dress."

We laughed in unison, tension evaporating under the shared, mutual understanding. With Tony, it was easy. The waiter brought our selected dishes. Blink-and-he's-gone. Top notch service.

"A dude in a dress, can't say I'm surprised 'bout your lack of dates," He remarked conversationally, happily digging into his food. The noises he made were intriguing, to say the least, and I followed suit on my own food, finding it absolutely delicious. A delicious meal with a delicious man at my side. I refused to feel guilty about my thoughts.

"I guess I have exactly one (1) date on my ledger now," I raised my argument.

The fork clattered as Tony once again, came to a sudden realization. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding."

"No shit," I gave into the urge to roll my eyes. "But on the upside, my first date was with the most gorgeous, intelligent and witty bachelor of the city. I'd say I don't have it all that bad," I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Aw, you're making me blush," Tony recovered quickly, grinning. "And don't be shy. The most desired bachelor of the country, if not the world."

I shook my head. "No, the world's most delectable bachelor is one of the Saudi princes. What's-his-name, the one who posts goat and horse pics on Insta," I snapped my fingers a couple of times, trying to remember the name as Tony looked at me all offended. "Anyways, you get my point. I could have a go at him, don't you think?" Cocking my shoulder, coyly twirling the strap of my dress, I gave Tony my best come-hither look and was rewarded with an appreciative once-over. His eyes were growing hungry again.

"You're a million dollar baby," He finally said, voice low. "And the extent of people I would be willing to share you with is very small."

That got me interested, sudden heat prickling underneath my skin. The conversation took a turn I didn't expect it to; and there lied the delight of being around Tony. He was always ready to surprise, in the best way. "Tell me," I requested politely.

"That's a conversation for another time," He was enjoying the chit-chat, desire beginning to creep into his features.

"Mmm, you think?" I allowed the strap of my dress to slip down my shoulder, exposing a collarbone, showing him just how far I was willing to go to satisfy my curiosity.

He swallowed audibly. "I think... You're smart enough to figure it out," He finally gritted his teeth, finishing off his dinner and immediately calling for the check.

I wasn't done yet, however. The possibility of riling him up, taunting him into a lustful frenzy - I was in heaven. Karma had favoured me that evening, it had given me a chance to get Tony back for all the times he unknowingly made my mouth water and my brain go blip. "Must be Steve then," I bit my lip in thought.

Honestly? I was as clueless as the couple next table over. Steve it wasn't, that much I knew for sure, he and Tony had their little love/hate dramatic connection that always ended in a massive ego standoff. Tony would be on the frontline fighting against Steve if the blonde dared to show anything even remotely resembling romantic interest towards someone Tony himself had his eyes on.

"Princess," Tony growled, sarcastically raising an eyebrow.

"Not Steve," I replied, cracking a smile. Success! "You know, I'm really bad at guessing who's into me. Unless someone is balls deep in me," My face was mere inches away as we quickly shrugged on our coats. "And even then, I can't be sure."

My giggling was accompanied by Tony shaking his head in exasperated fashion; he took my hand nonetheless and I happily swayed it between us, poster child for "not a care in the world". He allowed it, maintaining the same exasperated air about him, and I let him. Fondness and happiness seeped through that anyways.

"Brat," His voice was kind. And his kiss tingled where he left it on the corner of my mouth, sweet and short. "Here, have a go," Before I could react, the keys to his Rolls Royce were placed in my palm and he was making his way around the car to the passenger's side.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)! @softie-socks @schemefrenzy

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #party favours #bun writes

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robin-the-enby · 4 years ago

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Hello there! I hope you are fine. May I have a Black Butler matchup?

So uh I'm 17, INFP, a pisces and a pan. I have short, straight black hair with black-ish big eyes. I have an round face with chubby cheeks even though I'm a bit of the thin side.I have long eyelashes and wear glasses. So basically I have baby face and I don't show my age at all! As for my height I'm 1.70 cm.

For my personality, I'm that mom-friend that every friend group has. Need some painkillers? BAM! Need some pads? Do you need 1 or 50? You are hurt? Don't worry I have an aid kit. Your stomach or head hurts? Honey, don't you worry I have a various kind of herb teas with myself.

If someone needs a shoulder to cry on, that person is me. If somebody hurts my friends I go like "So you are saying that he/she/they broke your heart? Okay give me the names and addresses. Now."I would deal with them and then say "So do I need to break some more faces?" I'm not that violent but if they touch my family and friends.... May God help them.

But I'm actually very kind and smiley. I'm the kind of person who smiles at strangers, hold the door for them, talk with a waiter casually and smile at them as well. I never judge someone for their nationality, skin color, language, sexuality etc. And If I see someone bully another person for these reasons or another one, I stand against the bully and if needed I beat them.

I may seem like an cold and serious person at first meeting but over time I'm the biggest goofball and crackhead you can ever see! Sometimes I'm a bit sarcastic and tease my closest friends a lot- ofc I never offend them. I know what they are insecure about( if they are, WHICH isn't allowed on my watch.- and My friends always tell me that I kinda flirt with them but I never realize and When I actually try to flirt, I can't? But I also know how to be serious as well.

For the hobbies; I love watching anime, literature, myths, listening and observing people, comforting people or just listen their rantings, reading, listening music and singing.... I am not that good at gardening and stuff but sometimes I do this as well...

Thanks a lot in advance and I'm glad I found you blog!😍😘

Hi, I'm doing amazing, thanks for asking! I honestly wish every mom friend out there a very pleasant existence. Don't forget to take care of yourself, huns! I match you with:

Soma

This dude, omg. He'd declare his love for you the day you two meet.

Of course, at that time he isn't really in love with you (yet), but he definitely wants to spend more time with you.

And oh boy does he spend more time with you. As soon as he finds out where you live, he'd be at your doorstep every day, asking if you wanted to hang out.

If you'd say no, he'd give you the most convincing and iressistible puppy dog eyes that you've ever seen.

This man child is very clingy, but Agni holds him back to an extent, because everybody needs time for themselves.

Btw, Agni is your biggest shipper and fan, you have his infinite blessings from the start.

But as soon as you set some boundaries (and trust me when I say you gotta do it firmly, because he can be a bit thick, if you know what I mean), he'll become the cutest, most selfless boyfriend you've ever had.

Mans is enchanted by your kind and helping personality, but he'd rather if you both got pampered by Agni (who is honestly just really happy for you two so he doesn't mind) than you doing the work.

However, if you're insistent, he'll just sigh and later on brag to everyone (ehmehmCielehmehm) about how kind of a girlfriend he's got and how you're his entire life and he'd give up anything for you if he had to.

Have you ever forgotten to take care of yourself, since you're taking care of others all the time? Well, not anymore! Soma makes sure that if you're adamant on taking care of him and others, you will get taken care of as well!

That said, sometimes he gets jealous of Agni if you spend too much time with him, assuring that he's ok too or anything else. He'd pull you away to do something and act pouty around Agni and the poor khansama has no clue what he did wrong.

Soma plans days off for you two, be it so that you could just be lazy all day and stay in bed or have a picnic or go to a spa.

Sometimes he gets insecure about his personality, worrying that he's "too much" and overwhelming (usually after getting scolded by Ciel).

He'd love if you just cuddled him and reassured him that you won't leave him because he's too loud.

He's very handsy as well, kind of like Lizzy with Ciel, just not as forcefull. He won't yank you around, but he is the master of surprise hugs and suddenly picking you up off the ground.

He's not really a crackhead, but definitely a himbo. So your energies go very well together <3

Agni would tell the both of you stories and myths from India, sing you their songs and Soma would try to teach you some dances if you'd like. If you say yes, he's over the moon! He can't wait to dress you in their national robes, you'll look like a princess that you basically are now.

In return, you can share some myths from your country and get them both familiar with your culture in return.

Soma would just be such a great and fun boyfriend!

I can also see you with: I wanted to say Joker, because I feel like he's also very kind to those around him, but I don't have that good of a grasp on him yet, since I'm in the process of watching Book of circus. But definitely Grell Sutcliff - She loves to get pampered and taken care of. Would love it if you listened to her ramble. But she knows not to just take from someone. I feel like she'd love to spoil you almost as much as she loves to be spoiled. Like, this woman goes all out. Spa days and makeovers and shopping are a must. She'll give you her honest opinions on outfits that would look good on you and trust me, she has a keen eye ;) You just need to remind her sometimes to slow down or calm down a bit, she's very excited since there's finally somebody who gives her the love and attention she deserves <3

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler matchups #matchups #requests open #black butler x reader #black butler x y/n #prince soma x reader #prince soma x y/n #Grell Sutcliff #grell sutcliff x reader #grell sutcliff x y/n

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draco-kasai · 3 years ago

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Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 2 of 2: Welcome to The Program -->

Chapter 2 pt. 1 --> Chapter 1

Miss. Frizzle turned on her heel and walked over to a rack of dodgeballs that Mr. Jones hid from view behind him. Taking a few balls, she began placing them on the white chalked line on the grass. The field was marked out for them to play almost any sport. The ends were marked out as makeshift nets and the edge of the middle had poles protruding out the ground with the volleyball net tied snugly to one, in case they decided to play. The storage room contains the actual soccer nets and all the sports balls as well as chairs, and foldable tables.

“The rules are pretty simple. You’ll be placed into two teams and are allowed to use your quirks in any way to help you. You are not allowed to step over the line to the other team's side. You can't leave the court unless you grab stray balls, at least until you have 'dead' players to retrieve them for you. If you attempt to catch a ball only to drop it, you are out. No headshots, you'll be eliminated if you do. If you are hit by a fly ball, you are out, even if it wasn't intended for you."

"The point of this activity is to get you all used to one another’s abilities right off the bat. You’ll have to remain as coordinated as possible and have faith that your teammates will work with you. As far as I know, just about none of you have a proper understanding of each other's abilities. Heroes fight alongside heroes they’ve never worked with, this is how you learn to adjust to that.” He bounced the ball in his hand a few times as he spoke, his eyes scanning the crowd of students before him. The moment he was done talking, he threw the ball at a girl with dark hair that shines blue in the sunlight. She squeaked at this sudden action, but caught the ball with no problem.

“Marinette, come on up.” A little nervously, the girl walked around the crowd and made her way to stand next to Mr. Jones. Her free hand fiddled with the base of her loose over the shoulder pink top, dark pink sweatpants shifted as she moved to face the students. Her dark hair was tied back into a neat bun. Before she could ask Mr. Jones a question, a ball flew in between them. Turning her head, she spotted the moment a dark skinned male with braids caught the ball.

“Very good Virgil! Please, make your way up.” Miss. Frizzle giggled, suddenly standing on Mr. Jones’s other side. The male shrugged his shoulders and made his way over. He wore a loose white tank top that showed off his toned arms and khaki sweatpants. “Ladies and Gentlemen, meet your team captains.”

Mr. Jones pulled out a quarter, “Heads or tails?” he asked the two teens.

“Heads/Tails” they responded in unison. Looking over to one another, they laughed softly.

“Great! Virgil will be heads and Marinette, tails.” He flipped the coin in the air. In a fluid motion, he caught it and flipped it to rest on the back of his other hand, “And the person to choose their teammates first is…” He moved his hand to reveal the coin. “Tai-” Before he could even say the word, the coin flipped itself over.

“Heads.” Virgil smirked smugly as he brought his hand back down into his pocket. Marinette’s eyes widened in realization at what had just occurred. “He said we could use our quirks to help us. He never said it had to be during the game, so I’m taking advantage to get the first pick.” The young girl’s eyes narrowed slightly. So he’s going to take the game seriously, fine, she will too. Virgil has just unlocked her competitive side, and from the fact that his smug smirk widened, that would mean he was hoping for that.

Oh, game on.

“It’s good to know you know how to read between the lines and find loopholes.” Many of the students straightened up at his words, Mr Jones grinned widely, “Virgil gets first pick! Take turns, you two!”

“Cool, I pick,” He looked over at everyone. He spoke with some of the guys during foosball, they seemed pretty skilled, “Manny.” A boy with curly hair, wearing a loose gray T-shirt and cargo shorts, let go of his girlfriend's hand and walked over to his new team captain.

Marinette’s eyes scanned the crowd, “Um…” Her eyes landed on a boy with messy black hair. His brown eyes were busy scanning each of the students. She recalls him speaking to her in French as she sat outside sketching, a rather pleasant surprise and conversation. When he had left she had noticed that he was making his rounds speaking to everyone, even during breakfast he bounced around. Maybe it’s just her competitive side hoping, but he just might know what everyone's skills are, he just might be useful. “Hiro.” She said, pointing to the boy with a red graphic T-shirt and knee-length shorts. He gave her a sly smirk and casually made his way over.

“Whatcha think man?” Virgil asked Manny as they both scanned the crowd.

“I don’t really know anybody’s quirks or skills… Frida is quirkless but has killer parkour experience.” Manny spoke with a pretty heavy accent. He crossed his arms over his chest, “Um, Billy seemed pretty cool too. So did Gar.” Virgil nods to what his partner said.

“Then we’ll just have to get all three of them.” He spoke up louder, “Gar.”

“Glad I was a first choice.” Hiro spoke quite fluently in French as he walked over to her. Marinette smiled kindly.

“I noticed that you were going around speaking to everyone this morning and during breakfast. Quite the social butterfly, aren’t you?”

Hiro chuckled softly, “Ah, and here I thought you realized I was actually gathering information on everyone.”

“No, but I was hoping you’d have some to help us. Good to know I wasn’t completely off."

“Right! Well, I suggest the Possible duo. Kim is quirkless but has cheerleading and acrobatics skills. That will definitely be useful for us. Her partner, Ron, has a quirk that turns any of his bad luck around into good luck. That would be useful to us, oh! And Damian would be useful too, I’m pretty sure he also noticed me gathering information. He seems smart and observant, don’t know what he can do though, I couldn't get anything out of him.”

“Still impressed, you gathered a lot of information.”

“Of course I did. Just ask people about themselves, and they’ll reveal information without realizing it.” Now that she thinks about it, Marinette does recall being the one to do most of the talking. Oh, this guy is cunning. She smirked.

“Oh, I like you. Glad to have you on board.” They exchanged a handshake and a mischievous smirk before the female turned to call out a name, “Kim.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed slightly as his opponent’s gave one another a handshake. “Whatcha guys think? Frida, or Billy next?”

“Oh! Actually, before we choose one of them, I suggest Damian. He’s quirkless, but he’s a force to be reckoned with!” Garfield eagerly put in his opinion, “He’s really smart and calculating. He’s skillful in fights, too.”

“Whatcha think?” Virgil looked to Manny.

“I don’t really got a problem with it.” Manny shrugged, “If he’s that good, he should not go to the other team.”

“Gotcha. Damian.”

Marinette almost cursed. There goes one of their choices. Oh well, they still have other players to choose from.

“Hey I think we should get Ron on our team, his quirk would probably come in handy for this, its-”

“Karmic Luck. Any of his bad luck is countered with a burst of good luck.” Hiro cut Kim off, catching her off guard.

“Yeah, how did you…?”

“He’s quite the social butterfly.” Marinette smiled before calling for Ron. It took a moment before Kim realized what she meant by that. He had come up to them while they were playing 8ball and got Ron talking and talking.

A smirk crossed her lips as she cocked her hip out and placed her hands on them, “Oh, you are sneaky. This will definitely make things interesting.” Hiro gave her a thanks in response.

Damian wanted to roll his eyes at the current conversation happening in front of him. The idiots seem to just be gathering people they have spoken too. He does not want to be on a team of incompetent players. Finally, having enough on rather or not Frida or Billy would be a good fit he butts in. “Why not select Lee. She seems fairly competent and skilled. She also seems to have quick reflexes, from the way she easily caught Parr’s tray when she slipped this morning.” Garfield, Manny and Virgil all stared at Damian in silence.

“What?”

“I mean, like, I don’t disagree with what you said and all, they sound like a good fit but like…”

“Maldita sea, no sé ni la mitad de lo que dijo.” Manny mumbled under his breath as he ran a hand down his face. As if knowing his struggle, Garfield pats his back reassuringly.

“Dude, who’s Lee and Parr?” Garfield asked for them. Damian almost rolled his eyes.

“Juniper and Violet. It’s their last names.” he stated as if it were obvious.

“Dude… you call people by their last names? I mean, like no offense, but like… why?”

“It’s just a thing he does to people he doesn’t really know.” Garfield shrugs, “It's weird, but it’s his thing.”

“It’s simply polite to call an individual I am not close to by their last names,” Damian crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright Mr. Fancy, but I would prefer it if you just went by our given names, you dig?” Virgil gave him a half smile

“I do not, but very well. I shall compromise, when I mention someone to you, I’ll use given names, however I will not do so when I speak to people directly.”

“I mean… that works?”

“On that note. We should be vigilant with the other team. Hama - Hiro has gone around to speak with everyone in the group. He has information on everyone. It will make it easier for them to choose worthy opponents.”

“What!? Hiro? But he was so nice!” Garfield frowned, his pointed ears drooping.

“Yes, well do tell, what did you talk about with him?”

“Oh! I told him about my diet, my girlfriend, my quirk, and what hero training is like in my school!”

Virgil clicked his tongue when he realized he just about spoke about the same things with the guy, “Oh man,… he knows our quirks and experience level.”

“And he went around speaking to everyone.” Manny added with a sigh

“If we wish to win, we have to take into consideration what we know of everyone and choose wisely.”

“Gotcha. So, Juniper right?” Virgil calls out her name the moment Damian confirms it.

“Zachary”

“Jenny.”

“Danny”

“Frida”

“Violet”

“Miles”

“Betty”

“Rudy”

“Fiona”

“Billy” Marinette mentally fist pumped as Jake walked over to her team. Virgil took some of the people she wanted, but she got some of the players she was hoping for. Miss. Frizzle gave them all a ten-minute period where they could discuss. Going on their own side of the field, the teams began explaining their skill set to one another, as well as coming up with possible strategies.

______

Teams: 10 v. 10

Virgil(electromagnetism), Manny(Tigre), Garfield(shape shift), Damian(quirkless), Juniper(Detect), Jenny(Cyborg), Frida(quirkless), Miles(spider), Rudy(Chalk Art), Billy(Shazam)

Marinette(lucky Charm), Hiro(Prodigy), Kim(quirkless), Ron(Karmic Luck), Zachary(Magic), Danny(Ghost), Violet(Flyrogensis), Betty(Self Gravity), Fiona(Hair Manipulation), Jake(Dragon)

#fanfiction #Crossover fanfiction #my hero academia au #alternate universe

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ohthethingswedoforlove · 4 years ago

Note

How would your main 3 yandere oc react to Y/N getting a confession from someone else? Y/N was pull into a kiss and the person explains how much they like Y/N. Y/N looks shock at them but giggles like a dork. Y/N hugs the person and picks them up like a princess. Y/N accepted someone else's confession. "Y/N keeps giving small kisses to the other person and saying, "You are the only one to make me feel so...happy!"

I’m really sorry for basically taking 84 years to getting around to this ask! But we’re finally here, and we’re here with the boys having some… Interesting and bloody reactions to the realization that you might like someone else way more than you like them…

Warnings: yandere characters; kidnapping; mentions of manipulation; brief description of a panic attack; violence with mentions of broken bones; death; non-consensual drugging;

Canden is not going to react in the way you might think he would. Mainly because Canden has no need for you to love him back, be it romantically or in just any other way, really. He loves you completely unconditionally. You could see him as a friend, as family, as a simple acquaintance or even just straight up as an annoyance whom you hate with everything you have. Honestly, you could kick him in the stomach and insult his very existence and he would simply thank you for your time. Which is a reaction no one else expect you is able to get from him. Canden, more than anything else in the world, just wants to see you happy. And if that means you have to be with someone else, so be it. He might even encourage it, especially if he sees that it makes you truly happy!

But if you somehow think that this is actually not such a bad outcome for this situation, that it's even somewhat... Sweet, in its own strange way, then you haven't been paying attention. Canden loves you, but he has absolutely no sympathy, and much less respect, for your new partner. He already followed you around like a lost puppy beforehand, but now he has entered full guard dog mode.

The poor soul who decided to confess to you is not going to able to catch a break from Canden. Well, sure, he's genuinely happy that you seem so content and in love, but it's like there's a bit of a disconnect between seeing you so happy and being able to associate that happiness to the person that's actively causing it. Because Canden doesn't trust them. At all.

He's going to start following your partner around, always suspicious of what they are doing and of who they are doing it with. Who knows what they are planning? Who they are meeting behind your back? He swears, if he catches them doing something that could even just indirectly upset you, he doesn't even know what he's going to do with them. Actually, he knows. And it involves a lot of bones getting broken. They could just be casually hanging out their friends, just them and the boys being out on the town, and this dude is actually going to go apeshit as if he is the one getting cheated on. Even though no one is actually getting cheated on in this situation. What can I say? Canden's dumb, overly protective and jumps to conclusions faster than a professional Olympian long jumper.

If by some miracle your partner still has all of their bones intact after a month of dating you, it's still not a pleasant time for them. Or for you, in that matter. Between Canden still being as attached to your hip as he was before you started dating your partner and how he keeps stalking you both, being just an overall (and actually dangerous) nuisance, it wouldn't come as a surprise if your partner simply... Can't handle it anymore. And starts asking to break up with you.

Well, you could try to reason with Canden (or just straight up yell and berate him if you prefer), and while he will feel incredibly guilty for causing you such distress and unhappiness, he still doesn't quite seem to get that the problem stems from the fact that he needs to let your partner go. That he needs to stop acting like an actual guard dog.

Your relationship is not going to last, I hate to say it. Mainly because Canden will not let up, even if things calm down for a bit if you do confront him. I have a feeling you won't even blame your partner for this, if you were in their shoes you probably would have left even earlier, but they did their best to try and stick around for as long as they did because they really do love you. For as hypocritical as this is going to sound, Canden is genuinely going to be just as heartbroken as you are once the relationship is over. You were so happy! They really just had to go and ruin everything, didn't they? He knew from the start that they were up to no good.

I... Hope Canden doesn't ever find your ex-partner while out and about after this. Because, trust me on this one, the last time you spoke to them might just actually become the last time you will ever see them. And, honestly, I don't really want to describe the state that they'll will be left in by the time they get found the next day.

When it comes to Tiago, well... His distain is going to be a lot more obvious and straightforward. Mainly because witnessing this love confession is going to leave him absolutely fucking livid. He doesn't understand. Where did he go wrong? How didn't he see this coming? How did this motherfucker manage to slip under his radar so easily?! How?! Tiago isn't going to stick around for false pleasantries, as he would normally do if this had happened to involve literally anyone else but you. He's out of there as soon as he manages to snap out of his rage induced stupor.

He's not okay with this. He really isn't. And it's going to be plainly obvious that something's wrong with him. Blank gaze, limited attention span and some rather unpleasant bruises covering the fragile skin around his knuckles, suggesting that these had quite the few rude encounters with some really hard surfaces. He hates this. He hates that this is affecting him so much. He hates how exposed and fragile this makes him feel. He hates how much control you have over his emotions, even if indirectly. But, above everything else, he hates your new partner.

He already thought he spent way too much time thinking about you, but if this jackass doesn't consume his every thought ever since he saw them confess to you... He wants it to stop. He wants them to stop. To shut up. To let go of you. To not look at him as if they're just as worried for his well-being as everyone else, claiming that any friend of yours is a friend of theirs. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. The only way Tiago would even want to look at them is while he's burying them in his backyard.

For some time, Tiago will genuinely have no idea of what to do. He wants to keep living his life as per usual, he has to, but he finds himself nearly completely unable to function properly. He feels as if he's only able to concentrate on his anger and jealously, and literally nothing else. He can't stop thinking about you and your new partner. It's honestly... Painful. But he tries to keep it down. He really does. But being alone stewing in his own misery and anger doesn't do any wonders, either. He swears he's losing his goddamn mind.

The only thing that's keeping him in line, even if barely, is that he really doesn't want to fuck everything up. He has a reputation to keep, an image to maintain. He knows that violence won't solve anything. He can't hurt them. He shouldn't hurt them. Nothing good will come out of it. He can't lose his rationality, he really can't afford it. One wrong move... One pair of eyes in the wrong place at right time... And the whole charade he spent years building and maintaining is going to come crashing down faster than he would ever be able to justify his actions. And... What would you think of him then?

But also… They... They are trying to take you away from him. Is he supposed to just sit by and watch? To watch you slowly grow distant from him? To watch as you leave him behind? As you abandon him? No. He can't. You somehow managed to bypass every single one of his defenses over the time you two spent together. You managed to become so important to him... So what makes you think you can just simply walk away from him?

It was an accident. He swears it was. He thought he had calmed down, he thought he had his head back in the game. He had finally worked up enough nerve to talk to your partner directly, thinking that he could use the opportunity to get on their good side, to start somewhat of a friendship, so later he could use it to his advantage. He had to start somewhere, so he thought he could humor them long enough to "hang out". It was a calculated risk, considering the state he's in, but as you're about to find out, Tiago... Isn't very good at math.

There was a point where he found himself completely alone with them. As him and them both came upon a stairway something… Something clicked inside Tiago's head. He didn't even gave himself enough time to actually realize what he was about to do... It happened so fast... All that they needed was a little push... That's all it took. He only realized what he had done once he heard a sickening crack against the hard concrete.

And then... Silence. Complete, near deafening silence.

As for Gabriel... Oh, the poor guy. He'll be frozen in place, completely unmoving, as if the scene took everything out of him to be able to process what was happening. And then it suddenly hits him like a slap in the face. As soon as he starts to feel a familiar sting in the corners of his eyes, he's already getting out of there as fast as his legs can carry him, before anyone who happened to be around could even get the idea of asking why he's crying.

It happened. What he was fearing would happen, what he constantly warned and tormented himself about... It happened. Someone took you away from him. And he let happen. And... You let it happen. You seemed just so... Happy. With them. Without him. You don't need him. Of course not. You never did. What made him think that he would ever have a chance, that he would even be worthy of having a chance? Stupid. Fucking idiot. What was he expecting?! You never cared abou-

Ah. He... He needs to find to find a place to calm down. It's started to get hard to breathe...

This is going to wreck him, that's for sure. And it's going to leave him in shambles for quite some time too. Gabriel has a tendency to wallow in his own misery, after all. Even so, he still manages to try and scrape by, he always does, but this time around... He can't. He just can't seem to let this go. To let you go.

He tries to stop. To convince himself that it's okay, that it's not the end of the world. He can still try and be your friend, right? He can still be near you! Then why can't bring himself to do so? Yeah, it might have something to do with his difficulty to approach more than one person at a time, but he also can't deny the way his stomach twists every time he even just catches a glimpse of your partner. Is he angry? Jealous? He might be, but it's hard to try and identify your feelings while you're busy trying to not look like you're about to either burst into tears or start hyperventilating at any given moment.

He's going to make a rash decision, sooner or later. And it's a bit of a gamble on each one of you is going to end up locked away in his house first, you or your new partner, but this is going to end with both of you making a permanent visit there, that's for sure. Gabriel at this point can't even find a logic explanation for his own actions, as he usually desperately tries to do. He... Just wants to separate you two, he can no longer lie to himself and pretend that he doesn't. But how? He doesn't have the charm or confidence to seem like a better option than your partner, he can't bring himself to lie or to try and manipulate you into thinking that they're a bad person, and he doesn't want to hurt them either, that would be an awful thing to do! So what other choice did he had?! He's not sure how he even managed to get this far!

His restlessness still isn’t going to stop even now that he has you two basically at his mercy. And while he is glad (relieved even!) that you're finally safe with him... Well, what is he going to do with your partner?

He keeps you both way too sedated to be fully aware of what's going on, but while he's extra careful and attentive of you and how you're reacting to both the substances and your new environment, your partner... Isn't as lucky. Let this be said, Gabriel can't bring himself to hurt them. A certain part of him even feels obligated to care for them. But that's not going to last long. His anxiety is going to slowly settle in, and the weight of what he did to someone who didn't deserve any of this is going to make the process even more painful. At this point he most likely will lock them away in a room where doesn't even have to look at them most of the time.

It's going to happen eventually. Though not with any malicious intent, it's still going to happen. His nervousness is going to cause him to get sloppy with the dosages he gives them, to forget to feed them, or to constantly postpone taking care of them until... Until he’s suddenly faced with the fact that it's no longer necessary.

Let's just hope that he manages to bring himself to do something about the body before the neighbors start complaining about the smell.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere character #yandere oc #tw obsession #tw violence #tw kidnapping #tw death #tw anxiety #tw manipulation #tw drugging #my ocs #Canden #Tiago #Gabriel

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Handle This (6)

In Which Plagg is Annoying

So, my beloved Fiancé really likes Magic: The Gathering. He’s taught me how to play it, and talks about it a lot, but I still don’t really understand it. It’s a complicated game. So this chapter has sections of me purposefully badly explaining the game, sorry if that bothers you lol.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

Adrien awoke curled in a ball. His bed was extremely soft, and he sunk right into it.

Oh, except it was a pillow. He was still in Plagg’s tiny Kwami body. Great.

He yawned and stretched, realizing that he was alone in his bed.

“Plagg?” He asked the room.

There was no answer, but the bathroom door was closed.

Plagg was most likely getting him ready, or his human body, ready for school.

Before Adrien could imagine the worst case scenario, the bathroom door opened, and Plagg emerged.

Adrien stared, and then declared loudly, “NO.”

“Yes!” Said Plagg, flouncing into Adrien’s closet.

“How—why? When?!”

Plagg brought his pre-chosen outfit into the main room, and started to get dressed, carefully slipping the purple tiger striped shirt over his expertly gelled Mohawk.

“Did you not see me buy that ultra super strong hair gel yesterday?”

“I didn’t see anything you bought yesterday,” said Adrien with frustration. “I was in your pocket the whole time, remember?”

“Oh, then you’re in for a treat!” He slipped on an over shirt, that was black with orange leopard spots.

“Oh god...”

“You should have been more careful about what you brought home from shoots,” Plagg sang. “Love the leopard spots. Though I’m just a black cat, mixing up my coat on occasion would be fun.”

“I kept that shirt because I thought it was funny, or it would be good for a costume. You can’t honestly wear it!”

Plagg blew him a raspberry. “Oh suck it up buttercup! It’ll be fine!”

Adrien watched with other things on his mind as Plagg finished dressing. Brown pants, rolled up with mismatched argyle socks, and then the same green sunglasses to cover his cat eyes.

“I think I have a photo shoot with Lila after school,” said Adrien.

“And?”

“And you should probably attend it. I know you want to piss off my dad and blow off responsibilities that aren’t Miraculous related, but modeling is my job. I’m still under a contract and I get paid for it. That money goes to my college fund, which I intend to use to pick my own career.”

“What’s one missed shift to the son of the company?”

“A strike against me, and a loss of around a thousand euros.”

Plagg swiveled his head to look at him. “That much? Is Lila making that too?”

“No.” Adrien chuckled. “I am in high demand and so I make more. She makes around 15 euros an hour. That’s why she always drags photoshoots on for so long. Me and some of the other models get paid per gig.”

Plagg scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

“So will you behave for three hours?”

“No,” said Plagg, smoothing his shirt and hair. “But I’ll participate in the shoot and play nice with the photographer. Lila, on the other hand, I have plans for.”

Adrien looked at him warily. “...alright.”

Doing a once-over, Plagg declared, “just one more accessory, the piece de resistance...” he reached into a plastic bag from his shopping yesterday.

Adrien gaped in horror. “NO. NO NO NO!”

—

Gabriel walked from the kitchen back to his office, coffee mug in hand. Dealing with Adrien’s rebellion had been a PR nightmare, but he was able to spin Adrien’s outfit yesterday, as out of character as it was, as merely a phase. A phase which he would grow out of soon, but one that was necessary for Adrien to grow, to explore his own style, to learn fashion in his own mind. The media ate it up, and several articles would be coming out in the next week or so.

Then the boy in question streaked by him in a kaleidoscope of color.

Gabriel sputtered on his coffee, staining his suit with the brown liquid, but not caring a bit.

“Adrien?!” He shouted, beyond horrified. He couldn’t tell what was worse, the patterns? The colors? The hair? NO.

“Where did you get crocs?” Gabriel asked, as Adrien reached the unfortunately unlocked door.

He turned for just a second, long enough to shout. “Ask my butt, old man!” Before the door shut behind him.

Gabriel had to call those magazines back.

—

Plagg arrived at school, drawing the attention of every student mingling there. Some stared in horror, while others held in laughter.

A student passed Plagg and raised a fist. “Nice duds, dude! Stick it to the man!”

Plagg responded with a gleeful grin and matching fist bump.

“Oh my god,” said Nino, as he arrived. “You look amazing.”

“My dad spilled coffee on himself this morning, and the look on his face was totally worth it.”

“God, I wish I could have been there.” Nino sighed.

“It was pretty amazing, not going to lie.”

“Oh, while we have a second...I was hoping to have a sleepover this weekend. Marinette and Alya would come over for the evening, and then leave in time for dude’s night. You in?”

“Just you and me?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool.”

“Absolutely! After school tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Marinette said your schedule was open.”

“Marinette knew that? I didn’t even know that.”

“I think she keeps track of that stuff for class activities.” He cleared his throat, not looking at him. “And for no other reason besides that.”

Plagg chuckled to himself. God, Nino was the worst liar. “I understand. Someone’s got to know my schedule if I don’t.”

“Marinette is the best, after all.” Nino puffed up his chest, doing his damndest to be a good wingman.

Plagg didn’t think he needed to try so hard, but props. “She is the best, isn’t she?”

Nino smiled widely, like he had a secret joke that wouldn’t make sense to anyone.

A pair of arms wound around his own, squeezing tightly like a boa constrictor. “Good morning Adrien!” Lila chirped.

“Morning,” Plagg returned, playing casual in front of Nino.

“I need to talk to you about the photoshoot after school.” She turned to Nino. “Can I borrow your buddy for a minute?”

“You can have him for five minutes.” Nino winked.

Lila giggled, sounding pretty realistic to an untrained ear. “Thanks Nino!” Without waiting for Plagg’s permission, she dragged him away to a sequestered corner of the courtyard.

Before Plagg could even ask what was in her mind, she turned and faced him, expression full of vitriol and rage. It was not a face he’d seen on many mortals.

“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re trying to do, Adrien.” Her voice was cold, sharp, and harsh.

Adrien shivered in Plagg’s pocket.

“And that would be...?”

“Trying to weasel your way out of our little agreement.”

Plagg blinked, remembering the arrangement they had prepared a while ago. It’s what had gotten Marinette un-expelled. Just schmooze with the brat and she’d leave Marinette alone. But it was very apparent she was ready to take any violation of this agreement as an invitation to jump right back into her conniving ways.

Plagg would hold out for now, play the long game. He had a plan, and if that failed for some unexplainable reason, then he had another one lined up. It was just a matter of finding out what bait Lila would take.

He feigned a gasp, as well as she would, and laid a hand on his chest. “Oh Lila, whatever are you talking about? I’m just having a little disagreement with my dear old dad. It’s nothing against you! Honest!”

She squinted at him. “You’re still on the schedule to model with me later today, so I’m assuming you didn’t actually quit modeling. If you had, this would have turned sour.”

“What do you mean?”

“Modeling is our ‘fun friendship’ activity, and if you try to get out of it, I’m going to assume you don’t care about Marinette after all.” She shrugged.

He laughed, a dark sinister laugh that didn’t belong on his handsome, sweet, cherubic face. “You mortals are just so cute when you think you can win against me.”

The look on Lila’s face was perfect. Part confused, part terrified. “What?”

He spoke with a voice older than time, conjuring magics from the ancient unknowns. “Dos valok th’um krosis!”

“Did...did you just cast a spell on me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. How do your lips feel?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know, a little—“

“CHAPPED?” Provided Plagg, with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god.”

“Do not test me, Lila Rossi. You won’t win.” He gave her a pleasant little smile.

She stared in bewilderment, before chuckling right back. “Boy, you had me for a second.” She pulled out a tube of chapstick and applied some. “Are you trying to psych me out? Cause it’s not going to work.”

“Well darn,” said Plagg with a little snap of his fingers. “Thought my necromancy could spook you off. Well, if that didn’t do it, I guess you really do want to be my friend, no matter how quirky I can be.” He gave a happy little sigh.

Lila was immediately suspicious. “Sure, I want to be your friend...?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but Lila wasn’t convinced.

Unless Adrien really was that naïve.

“Great!” Plagg clapped. “I have to go talk to Marinette, but we’ll hang out at the shoot! It’s going to be so much fun!” And he hurried off.

Lila narrowed her eyes back in his direction. There was definitely fishy about that exchange. She couldn’t very well text Gabriel and say, “there’s something suspicious about your son. He actually wants to be my friend. Also he chapped my lips.” That would be too confusing and send all the wrong messages.

So she resigned to wait until the photoshoot after all. Since, of course, he couldn’t keep up this act for several hours in a row. She could, but she was a professional.

Her musings came to a halt as she heard the wonderful noise of Marinette’s scream. “MY EYES!!”

Lila hurried from her nook to find out what had happened. Had someone sprayed her with mace? Pocket sand?

No. Adrien was merely striking poses in front of her, and she had recoiled in horror.

“Adrien!” She stated, aghast. “How could you?!”

He posed again, butt in her direction. “You like?”

“It’s foul. Are those crocs?!”

“Yep! I contemplated on getting the little ladybug plugs for the holes, but I didn’t really think it was worth it. After all, how often do you look at a man’s feet?”

“In that outfit, it’s going to be too hard to tell what part is the worst.” Her eyes bounced over the competing patterns and made her dizzy. “Well here,” she handed over a hanger covered with a trash bag. “Your sin against fashion has been committed. I’m willing to do more, but don’t attach my name to it.”

Adrien just laughed. “Don’t worry, Pooh Bear, your secret is safe with me.”

Lila’s lips curled in disgust at the nickname. Obviously, she would tell Gabriel that Marinette was enabling his behavior. Maybe she could spin it as her influence all together. Yes, yes, that would work. Two stones and all that.

—

After school, Lila rode with Adrien to the photoshoot.

Boy, if she wanted a taste of what the day would be like, she certainly got it. And she should have taken the chance to run.

“So Nino and I started playing this game with the guys in class,” Adrien had begun, without so much as a greeting. “Have you heard of Magic: The Gathering?”

“...no?”

“Oh okay, so I’ll tell you all about it.”

As a master manipulator, Lila understood the masterful art of conversation. There were several strategies she had developed over the years. Her favorite was ‘talk passionately and allow for natural lulls in explanation so they can ask questions’. It made people feel engaged and kept them coming back for more, while she was perceived as interesting and smart, but also humble.

However, it seemed that Adrien was utilizing the beginners mistake of ‘poorly explain a subject you’re not really passionate about without letting the other person talk’. Like an underpaid substitute teacher filling in for a class they don’t know much about.

“So like, there are these cards with different landscapes on them, and they’re all different based on color, right? So there’s water or islands for blue and mountains and stuff for red, right? And each one is worth mana. And you have to use mana to play a card. Except for lands, I think. You can play those whenever, except you have to draw them, you can’t just go searching through your deck. Unless a card tells you you can.”

Finally, they arrived at the shoot, and Lila nearly fell out of the car in her haste to get away for some peace and quiet, just for a second.

Who knew that boy could talk so much?

—

Plagg and his mohawk were led to the makeup trailer. Thankfully for the hairstylist, it came with a salon sink, so Adrien didn’t have to go home and shower.

“Sorry, Mr. Agreste,” the stylist said as she draped a cape on him. “We have to flatten the mohawk.”

“That’s alright,” Plagg assured with a polite smile. “It served its purpose.”

“It was very well done, honestly,” she said with a laugh. “For not having the sides of your head shaved, that is.”

“I had to work with what I had.”

The stylist just hummed in understanding, as she started to rinse his hair, the gel melting and washing down the drain.

The stylist sighed, and gave a little huff to herself.

Plagg normally wouldn’t care, but if his meddling had inconvenienced someone else’s job, that would reflect poorly on Adrien. So, he asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Umm...” she paused, biting her lip. “Look, we’re friends right?”

Plagg didn’t even know this person’s name. “Of course.”

“Are you close to Miss Rossi? I know you guys are friends...”

“I hate her guts.” Plagg declared with a broad smile.

“Oh good!” She relaxed. “I really really hate working on her. And so does everyone else, and last time she was here, she was just—Ugh, the worst. I got so frustrated because Giuseppe and your father like her, so even if I complained, nothing would happen. Likely, I’m the one that would get in trouble. You remember Alexander, right? The lighting assistant?”

No. Not one bit. “Yeah?”

“Well, she yelled at him one time during a shoot, in the back. Apparently, she wanted coffee and he wouldn’t get it for her, even though that’s soooo not his job. So she complained to Giuseppe and got him fired! Honestly, I don’t know how he didn’t get akumatized over that.”

“I don’t either!” Plagg said, with surprise. “I knew she was a pain, but yikes...”

“I think you’re a really cool kid, Adrien. But she’s going around and telling everyone you got her this job and—“ she sighed. “People are getting resentful.”

Now Plagg was mad. It was immediately apparent that Lila had a ‘if I can’t have them, no one can’ attitude, turning the staff on Adrien if she couldn’t win them over with her outlandish lies. Adrien couldn’t afford having that many enemies. He was too soft.

“Actually...” Plagg began to explain how Lila had wound up with her job, lying to Nathalie and Gorilla to get access to his house, lying to his father to get on his good side, and all the things she did to Marinette, who he took the bullet for to protect. “She means a lot to me,” Plagg said, in regards to Marinette. “So I didn’t mind having to pretend to be Lila’s friend if it meant she could come back to school and not be harassed anymore. It seems that Lila has a loose form of friendship.”

The stylist wiped her eyes. “Oh Adrien, you’ve got such a heart of gold. I’ll set everything straight with the team. Don’t you worry!”

“I actually have a plan, that you might let everyone in on. And I apologize in advance.”

“Lay it on me.”

—

By time Lila was called in to get ready, Plagg had been groomed into a normal looking boy with normal looking hair and clothes. Though normal protocol usually had Lila in hair and make-up alone with the stylists, Plagg sat in a chair nearby, separated from her by a curtain.

“Adrien? Shouldn’t you be out there?”

“Oh it’s okay, I wanted to keep telling you about this game.”

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t keep Giuseppe…”

“He won’t mind. So, there’s a bunch of colors, right? Red, Black, Green, Blue, White, and…one more. I think there’s one more.”

A sigh was heard from the other side of the curtain.

“No, no I was right, there’s only five. But you can combine them. But not like, mix them? It’s like, Blue-Black, and Red-Black. And Green-Blue. And so different colors have different themes, right? And the themes are different based on the set. Oh yeah, there’s different sets and Wizards of the Coast release like, two or three sets a year. I think. Like they had this one that was all about Dinosaurs and pirates. But they usually aren’t that wacky. Unless it’s a joke set. Which that one wasn’t. I can’t remember the name of it right now, but it started with an ‘I’.” And he was off, explaining all he could remember of the game, from what Adrien had told him, to what he had heard while the boys played at school. If he could find a point to elaborate on, he did.

Every once in a while, he’d make eye contact with a staff member, who would in turn grin and give a secret thumbs up.

He started to run out of steam while Lila was in makeup.

Thankfully, one of the technicians with a grudge noticed, and helped him out. “Would you ever play competitively?”

Through the mirror, Plagg could see the lightbulb go off over Lila’s head. “You know, my grandfather was one of the chess masters of the world. He won lots of tournaments, and I’m sure he’d love to give you some pointers if you were interested, Adrien.”

The technician answered for him. “Chess? We’re talking about Magic: The Gathering. Two totally different games. The tournaments are pretty fun too, but I really enjoy playing at pre-releases. They usually only allow you to play with the set you’re buying, so you can’t look at them beforehand…”

Plagg beamed at the guy, thrilled with how quickly he had shut Lila down.

Lila, however, was undeterred. She met the eyes of the female stylist and just shrugged. “Boys, right? So, this weekend—“

“Shh,” the stylist hushed. “I’ve been trying for weeks to learn this game.”

Lila crossed her arms and sat silently for the rest of the session.

Once the models were all dolled up, they were escorted out to the set, and Giuseppe got to work with posing.

Here’s where Lila tried to make up for lost attention.

“Oh Giuseppe! I had such a wonderful idea for the shoot today! Since the gardens are in full bloom—“

“Which reminds me!” Plagg snapped his fingers. “Green-Black combination cards are really unique because they create a bunch of minions. Like, the cards in them have the ability to spam the battlefield with like a bunch of little guys called tokens that take a lot of extra work to get rid of. Well, like, not a ton of extra work, because they only have like one HP, but like, it's more work then you would have had to do. Wait, white, not black. Actually, I think white is the best at tokens, my mistake.”

Despite her best efforts, Lila could not suppress a full body eye roll.

It was exactly what Plagg was waiting for, and he jumped in for the finisher. He turned his sad kitten eyes to her, looking like Puss in Boots from Shrek, and asked, in the most pathetic voice he could muster. “Am I annoying you?”

Lila stared at him, as the staff and Giuseppe looked right at her, to see her response.

“I…I…” she stammered. “N-no, not at all, Adrien. I…love hearing about this game.”

He beamed. “Good! Because I have to tell you about my favorite combination of Blue-black. It’s really high in conditions and making things difficult for the opponents, right?”

Lila’s nostrils flared, but she held back any other sign of frustration. It was remarkable, really.

Plagg was quiet while Giuseppe gave directions, and during the actual shooting, but in between takes, when he didn’t have to be ‘professional’ he filled in the silence with whatever jargon he could find. He was wearing her down.

“Alright,” Giuseppe finally said. “We’re all done with you, Lila. Now it’s just Adrien’s solo shoot. But you can stay if you like.”

Lila was already halfway to the trailers. “I’m so sorry Giuseppe, I have somewhere I have to be this evening, so I’m going to head out. I’ll see everyone next time!” And she practically sprinted off set.

Once she left, Giuseppe gave a loud sigh of relief. “Now let’s get some real work done.”

—

Later that evening, when Adrien and Plagg had returned to the mansion, Adrien sat on the desk as Plagg scrolled online. Homework had been completed with ease, and it was still too early for bed.

“What are you reading?” Adrien asked.

“I’m trying to slog my way through the lore of that video game you like, the one with the Dragons. I have to have more ammunition the next time I deal with Lila. I almost ran out today.”

“Is that what I sound like?”

“What?”

“You today, when you were talking about Magic. Is that what I sound like to you? Do I ramble on?”

Plagg screwed up his lips in thought. “Mmmm, sometimes.”

Adrien hunched in on himself.

“But look. Culture and creative medium has grown astronomically in the last 200 years since I’ve been asleep. I want to know about what’s out there. I like hearing about things that you enjoy. Even if it is annoying sometimes, I still care about you. The reason I pulled this strategy is because Lila likes to talk, and she doesn’t like to listen. Even if I was talking passionately about something I knew a lot about, I doubt she would have cared. I hear how often she interrupts class.”

Adrien hadn’t thought about it like that.

“You know who Pavlov is, right?”

“Uh, the guy that did the experiment with the dog, right? He rang a bell and gave his dog a treat, and eventually the dog came to associate the bell with treats.”

“Precisely. Humans are the same way. Knowing this principle is the easiest way to win people over. You have to make them associate you with good feelings. If you treat people well, be friendly, courteous, and funny, eventually, people will like to be around you. The same works in reverse. If I can associate myself with frustration and annoyance for Lila, she won’t want to be around me. Being straight up mean to her won’t work because she’ll see that as a challenge.”

“So you have to be subtle,” Adrien concluded. “Thats…that’s genius.”

“I know.”

“So you don’t think I’m annoying?”

Plagg rubbed him between the ears. “I only found you annoying when you would complain about Ladybug, your dad, or Lila. But now, in your shoes, I’ve realized how easy it is to get frustrated about these things. But hopefully soon enough, you won’t even have to worry about it.”

Adrien smiled brightly. “Thanks Plagg. I hated this at first…but you really are making some progress.”

“Told you. Now, help me pack. You have your first sleepover tomorrow night.”

“My first sleepover, and I’m going to spend it crammed in a bag!”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #plagg #I'll handle this #fanfiction #adrienette

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