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titan-fodder · 3 years

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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volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*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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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Text

Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.

"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.

She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"

Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."

"Shouldn't we make him understand?"

"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."

Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."

"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."

Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.

"You're worried about something," Zed said.

Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"

"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."

The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.

"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.

"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."

"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."

"Valter—"

"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."

Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.

"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."

"And what about Axel?"

"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."

"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.

"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."

Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.

"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.

"Promise we'll all stick together."

"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."

"Promise-promise?"

"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."

Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."

"That, or I'm just tired."

"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."

Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.

~*~

In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.

"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"

Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."

"Stay put," Vee commanded.

Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."

"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"

Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.

"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."

"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"

Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.

"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"

"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."

"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."

"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"

Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."

"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.

"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"

Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.

"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.

"Starving."

"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."

Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"

Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."

"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.

At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.

"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.

Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."

"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."

"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.

Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.

"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”

"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."

The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.

After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"

Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."

Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."

Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"

Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."

"What else?" Zed asked.

"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."

"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."

"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."

"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.

"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."

Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"

"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."

"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."

With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.

"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."

"What does he need?"

"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."

"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.

"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."

"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."

"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."

Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.

"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."

Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.

"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.

"We're friends in this life."

"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"

"Yes. I don't mind at all."

Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.

"I think I have to take you somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"

Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."

"Then don't," Zed said.

He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."

~*~

Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.

Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.

"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"

"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."

Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."

"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"

Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.

"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."

The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"

"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.

Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"

"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."

"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."

"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."

"That's crazy. We should tell him—"

"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."

Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.

"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"

Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"

"You volunteered."

"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."

Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"

"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"

"I'd do what's for the greater good."

"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."

"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.

"So what now? I can't talk to him?"

"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."

Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.

"And how's Lea taking all of this?"

Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."

"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"

"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."

"Wow," Ivar whispered.

"Yeah, it's hard."

Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."

"You got it."

Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.

"How are you feeling, Axel?"

"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."

"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."

A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Would if I could, friend."

"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.

Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.

"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.

"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."

Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."

Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"

"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."

"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."

"Who was that?" Axel asked.

"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."

"Nice guy."

Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."

An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.

~*~

Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.

She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.

"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.

"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.

Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.

"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"

"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"

Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"

"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."

"So it's true? He's awake?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."

The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"

"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."

"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.

Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."

Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.

She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.

"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.

Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.

A tired voice called her name.

The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.

"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"

"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"

Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.

"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"

"No, Axel—"

"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."

Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.

"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."

"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"

"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"

Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.

"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."

"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."

"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."

Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"

"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."

"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."

"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."

"I won't leave. I can't."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Lea."

"Promise-promise?"

Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."

~*~

Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.

A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.

"Who are they?" Axel asked.

"Zee! Happy you're awake!"

"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"

"He looks terrible."

Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"

"We want to talk to Zee!"

Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.

"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"

Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."

"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.

"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"

"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."

The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.

"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.

"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."

Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.

"Lea, help me out here."

"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."

"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."

"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."

Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.

"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."

"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.

Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."

Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.

Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."

Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.

"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."

"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.

Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.

I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."

"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.

"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."

Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.

"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.

"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."

"How many?"

"Billions," Zed said.

"You mean... We're the only ones left?"

"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."

"Storms?"

Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."

"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"

Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.

"No, Axe. You're not."

"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.

"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."

"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"

"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."

"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"

"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."

Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."

"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."

"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."

Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"

Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."

"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."

For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.

As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.

"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."

Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.

They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.

"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."

"You recognize them?"

"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.

"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."

"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.

"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."

"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"

Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."

Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.

"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.

"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."

"And mom and dad?"

"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."

The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.

"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"

Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."

~*~

In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.

"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.

"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."

"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."

"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.

"The couch."

Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."

"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."

"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.

"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."

"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."

"There's always the Chrysalis."

The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."

"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."

Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.

She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.

Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?

What a prize!

Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.

It's like you were made for me.

With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.

The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.

We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.

Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.

Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.

Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.

"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

"Axel?"

In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"

"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."

Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"

"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."

"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."

Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."

Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."

"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.

Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."

"Well, cuddle up, pal."

"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.

"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"

Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.

"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."

"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.

"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."

"You shut up."

"Guys?" Zed chimed.

"Yeah?" The brothers answered.

"I love you both.”

Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.

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#axel cluney fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction #ivar lothbrok fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #AU fanfiction

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Jealous

Fandom: Chicago Med / One Chicago

Pairing: Will Halstead x Reader, Connor Rhodes

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 2,411

Request: Hii could you do a Will Halstead x reader, please? Where Will and the reader are really close friends that both like one another and everyone know except for each other. So Connor purposefully flirts with the reader over the week to piss Will off and Will gets jealous following the reader around like a lost puppy and admits everything or something like that please?

“I can prove it,” Connor told you as you exited the ED after a long shift, the moon high in the sky as you took a deep breath of the cold fresh air. You and Connor had been given a patient together today and your entire lunch break had been sent together combing through books and papers looking for a solution to her problem.

Connor had told you his theory then, glancing between where you had been sat opposite him and to where Will was grabbing his lunch, supposedly watching the two of you. According to Connor, Will was jealous of all the time you were spending together.

“For the last time, Will does not like me,” you replied, rolling your eyes at his persistence. Will Halstead into you? You were both close friends, had been since he’d moved back from New York, and while... sure, you had feelings for him, you’d never acted on them because you knew it was one-sided.

Recently, however, Connor had decided he’d had enough of watching the two of you dance around your feelings and finally admit your feelings for each other. Not that you bought any of it, but when you’d mentioned his ridiculous theory to Maggie, she had just laughed in a knowing way and wandered off.

According to Connor, he wasn’t the only one who saw it, everyone did except the two of you apparently. Where did he get these ideas?

“He does!” Connor insisted, laughing at your stubbornness as you made your way to his car. Yours was in the shop for the next few days, so Connor had agreed to give you lifts while it was getting fixed as you were working the same shifts for the next week. He told you that that’s what had given him this idea, with Will getting increasing short tempered around him ever since he’d seen you start getting out of his car.

You didn’t reply this time, just shook your head as Connor stared at you in disbelief, like he wasn’t sure why you didn’t see it like he did. But how could you? It was Will.

“You know what,” Connor said as you reached the car, pausing with his keys in his hand as an idea popped into his head, “I propose a bet.” His scheming grin told you that you weren’t going to like what he had in mind, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t in the least bit curious.

“Okay... what did you have in mind?” You asked cautiously, hand on the passengers side door handle.

“Your car’s still out for the next week, so if by the time you get it back I haven’t proved to you that you and Will both have feelings for each other I’ll...” he trailed off, thinking as he unlocked the door. You waited for him to respond expectantly, knowing that you already didn’t like the idea and trying to think of something to offer you to make it work it. It wasn’t until you’d both settled into your seats that his face lit up, uh oh. “You know what, just for you, if I’m wrong about this, you can have the bottle of single malt scotch,” he decided.

You blinked, “you mean the bottle of scotch that costs more than two months of my rent, that bottle of scotch?” Connor nodded without hesitation and you pondered his offer. You hadn’t realised quite how serious he was, or quite how sure of himself he was either, and it was starting to make you question whether you would actually win this bet when previously you had been so sure.

“So?” He asked, waiting for your response.

“How?” You retorted, needing to know exactly what Connor had in mind before you agreed to anything. As intrigued as you now were, there were definitely lines, especially when it came to potentially deceiving a close friend.

“Simple, we deliberately and obviously flirt around Will. I guarentee that by the end of the week you’ll have your answer,” he explained and you clicked your tongue, thinking it through, your curiosity getting the better of you as you eventually nodded.

Connor grinned and held out his hand for you to shake. “Deal,” you decided, taking his hand and sealing the bet before Connor started the car.

As you drove away Connor rambled about the deals of the bet, but your mind kept going back to Will. Was it possible that he felt the same way about you as you did about him afterall? You didn’t know now, but hopefully you’d find out by the end of the week.

“I’m telling you, this is going to work,” Connor reassured you in the morning as you entered work together, trying not to be too obvious as you noticed Will at the nurses station. If you kept looking at him he’d definitely catch on to something, so you tried to be as casual as possible as Maggie called you over, needing you to take a patient in two with Will.

“Hey,” you smiled as Will approached.

“Morning,” he replied as he greeted the both of you, eyes more on you than Connor as he did.

“Well, they need me upstairs so I’ll leave you guys to it,” Connor said before looking to you with a michevious glint in his eye, “we’re still on for later right?”

Later? You didn’t know what he was talking about but you caught on, the bet had begun. “Oh yeah, definitely,” you answered, a twang of guilt in your stomach as you lied.

Connor walked away with an obvious wink, very much making sure that Will saw as he did. Will clenched his jaw and confusion flashed on his face, but it immediately disappeared as the monitors in your patient’s room started beeping, the two of you rushing to work quickly.

You didn’t see Connor until lunch, sliding into the seat opposite you and knicking some of your food as he did. Will was at one of the tables near you, but behind, you’d seen him with Doctor Charles as you’d grabbed yourself a table.

“I’m not sure about this anymore,” you admitted to Connor, not feeling right about basically manipulating your friend.

Connor threw a slight glance behind you before he answered and you had to resist the urge to turn around. “You don’t want to know?”

“I don’t want to trick my friend,” you replied instantly, slowly picking at your food.

“Don’t think of it as tricking, think of it as... giving said friend a needed nudge,” he told you with a shrug, looking back at Will again as you shuffled in your seat. Okay fine, you wanted to know, you’d spent all night thinking about this stupid bet.

With a reluctant sigh you nabbed a piece of his food in return, eating it as Connor smirked at you. “That’s the spirit, besides, when I’m eventually proven right, neither of you will care anyway.”

You laughed at his brashness, telling yourself that it was harmless flirting. If he didn’t have feelings for you, it shouldn’t matter anyway, so why not?

As the week went on you started to think that you were never going to see that bottle of scotch. Not that you minded too much, Connor had known this bet would be a win/win for you anyway, which is what made it so hard to resist.

Will had definitely been making comments about you and Connor, comments that almost sounded... bitter? Ethan had even asked if there was something going on between the two of you and when you’d said no you’d heard Will scoff somewhere behind you. Did he just not like you with Connor? Or was it more? You knew he and Connor hadn’t always been on the best terms, so maybe it was platonic judgement?

Gah, you couldn’t listen to yourself anymore, why was it so hard for you to believe Connor was right?

“He’s like lost puppy,” Connor told you as he passed you a coffee, sitting outside after a long night shift and enjoying the refreshing morning air. You shoved him and rolled your eyes at the comment.

“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” you told him, unable to help yourself as you looked to where Will was buying himself a drink. Yeah, he definitely didn’t look to happy as he wandered past in your direction, not even returning your smile of greeting as he headed back inside.

Had this gone a little too far? No, you realised suddenly, he didn’t really have any right to be mad at you for flirting with Connor, ulterior motives or not. If he had something to say to you, he could say it to your face.

“Oh of course I am, but that’s only because Halstead makes it too easy,” Connor teased, getting distracted by a call requiring him to head to the OR for an emergency surgery.

He left you sitting alone on the bench, thinking about Will. Maybe you should have just told him how you felt, you thought, but you knew you’d never have got up the courage, too afraid to ruin your friendship. If Will did have feelings for you, he probably felt the same way, you realised.

One more day, you mused, not actually sure how this week would end.

You sat at Molly’s nursing a drink, deep in thought. As much as you didn’t want to be, you were actually disappointed that you’d won the bet. If Will had been jealous of your flirting with Connor, he hadn’t outright said anything about it, or about any feelings he may or may not have had for you.

Even so, you thought, at least you could drown your feelings with incredibly expensive scotch.

“Hey,” someone said from behind you. Turning a little you expected to see Connor, but to your surprise Will stood behind you. He smiled slightly, “this seat taken?”

You gestured that he could sit. Honestly, this week had actually seemed to widen any gap there had been between you and Will. He definitely hadn’t liked you flirting with Connor, and he’d actually been avoiding you, which you hated. Both of you were close friends, you didn’t want this stupid bet to get in the way of that, especially since it hadn’t gone the way you’d hoped it would.

“I’ve barely seen you this week,” you told him, hoping to direct the conversation into some sort of direction.

“Yeah well,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink, “you’ve been spending most of your time with Connor.” Oh yeah, that was jealousy, clear as day.

“So?” You pushed a little, watching him carefully.

“I-” He hesitated before shaking his head, “you know what, it doesn’t matter.” You took a breath, you’d gotten this far, like hell were you not going to get an answer out of him now.

“No, come on, what?” You tried again, laughing a little to try and cut through the tension Will was giving off.

Will thought about responding for a minute, but eventually gave in, realising that you weren’t going to let this go. “It’s just... I didn’t know you were into each other,” he got out through slightly gritted teeth, try and failing to say it casually.

“Me and Connor? We’re just friends Will,” you insisted, but he didn’t look entirely convinced, “seriously.”

“Could have fooled me,” Will huffed.

“Apparently,” you replied. Had you and Connor been a little too convincing? You hoped not, he was like a brother to you, absolutely nothing more. “Why do you care anyway?”

Will took a deep breath before eventually asking: “Don’t you know?” The rawness and vulnerability in his voice made you blink, taken back by the implications of what he had just said.

You were at a loss for words, frozen with your mouth slightly agape. “I-” you started to say, unable to finish and not sure where you were going with that anyway.

“Look, we’re good friends, and I wouldn’t want anything to come between that, I thought I could just ignore... you and Connor flirting just got to me, more than I expected it to,” he admitted, adding at the end, “sorry if I’ve been acting like a bit of an ass.”

Realising Will was looking at you expectantly, nervousness in his eyes, you quickly thought out a response. “Will, I feel the same way,” you told him, glad that a weight had been lifted off your chest, and given the relief that washed over his face you could tell he felt the same way.

“But you and Connor...?” Will questioned, and you couldn’t blame him for being confused.

“That- we’re not-” you laughed, “there’s no me and Connor. I promise.”

“But there... could be a me and you?” Will chanced. You didn’t want to come off as too eager, but you couldn’t help but smile, unsure of how long you’d actually wanted to hear those words for.

“I think... that’s a real possibility,” you said, watching the way his face lit up and wondering how you hadn’t seen it before. But one question still remained, how could you explain the bet? You didn’t want to keep it from him, if this did become something, you didn’t want it to be built on a lie.

You wouldn’t have to, you realised, noticing Connor heading in to Molly’s out of the corner of your eye, spotting you and Will talking and making a beeline for you both, scotch clearly visible in a bag.

He was about to pass it to you when he paused, looking between you and Will like he’d clearly interrupted something, figuring out what a split second later.

“What’s that for?” Will asked, noting the bottle of scotch in his hand.

“Oh that’s-” you began, unable to come up with an explanation.

Connor put the scotch back in the bag and laughed, a smug smile on his face as he finished. “What?” Will asked, confused as he glanced between you and Connor.

“Guess it worked afterall,” Connor said and you felt your cheeks go a little red.

“What worked?” Will insisted.

“I bet I could get you to admit your feelings for Y/N, and something tells me that I was right,” he explained, chuffed with himself, “I’ll leave you both to it, night,” he winked, heading off with the drink.

“Y/N?” Will turned to you questioningly.

“So here’s the thing...”

#will halstead #connor rhodes #chicago med #one chicago #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #connor rhodes imagine #chicago med imagine #one chicago imagines #will halstead imagines #chicago med imagines #connor rhodes imagines #one chicago imagine #will halstead one shot #connor rhodes one shot #chicago med one shot #one chicago one shot #one shot

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

#only posting this now bc ive been in a funk the past few days #and i need some soft over romantic fluff #also when i made my masterlist i realized there were 6 posts #and the number 6 is a huge trigger for my ocd i hate it #also this was already written haha so yeah #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #dolan twins fanfic #grayson mj

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fantasyoverreality98 · 4 years

Text

Back To You

Pairing(s): Bryce Lahela x MC, mentions of Ethan Ramsey x MC

Summary: Casey and Bryce reunite after a brief period apart.

Author’s Note: Once again, I have been inspired by a song from Little Voice; “Coming Back To You”. It’s been a while since I’ve posted some fanfic, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always, thank you so much for liking, commenting, reblogging, just reading in general. I appreciate it!

Tags: @anotherbeingsworld @aylamreads

Word Count: 1,785

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“You told me that this meant something to you, but I can’t help feeling like that isn’t the case.”

The words echoed in Casey’s mind as she sat on her bed, staring at the wall. She would never forget the way Bryce looked at her that day. Neither would she erase the pain in his voice from her memory. All in hopes that a certain doctor might return the feelings she had for him.

And it had all been for nothing.

“Case? You alright?” Sienna peered into the room, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve been in here all night.”

“Fine. I’m fine.” She glanced at a picture framed on her desk.

It was a picture of her with Bryce and Keiki, taken when the three of them decided to go to the mall to shop around for a bit. It also happened to be one of the last times she’d spent time with the Lahela siblings.

For months, Casey had chased after Ethan, following her heart instead of using her brain. She knew that the relationship was doomed from the start, it always had been. No matter how much she might have wanted him, they weren’t meant to be.

“Bryce, I’m sorry. I just—I changed my mind. There’s someone else, and I can’t live with myself if I don’t tell you the truth.”

“I just wish you’d made up your mind sooner. Before I—” He’d stopped before finishing the sentence, a bitter laugh tumbling from his lips. “You know what? It’s fine. This was always meant to be casual anyway.”

A lump had started to form in her throat, and Casey ripped her eyes away from the picture. She glanced down at her phone.

No new messages. There never were.

She’d screwed up. Big time. It had been months since she had a proper conversation with Bryce, and the few words they’d exchanged were always related to work. He couldn’t even look her in the eyes most days.

The shame she felt over letting him slip through her fingers would haunt her forever. A part of her left with him that day, and she knew that it would never come back.

Bryce Lahela was the one. He had always been the one. She just couldn’t see it until it was too late. Now, she was alone.

“Well, we ordered some pizza. There’s plenty if you want some. Bryce is coming over in—”

Hearing those last few words, Casey snapped from her daze. “Bryce is coming here?”

Sienna’s brows furrowed as she pushed the door open wider. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t he—Oh. You two still aren’t on speaking terms?”

Casey chewed on her bottom lip, thinking of a time when he used to hang out at the apartment constantly. She shook her head, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to spill over. All of this was her fault. She had no right to get upset about it.

“Maybe I should stay in here. He probably doesn’t want to see me anyway.” Her voice cracked near the end of her sentence. “I’ll just eat later.”

“Case—”

There was a knock at the apartment door before Sienna could continue speaking. She glanced back with a sigh, a troubled look in her eyes as she stepped out of the doorway. Casey breathed a sigh of relief when her friend closed the door behind her.

An extremely familiar voice spoke from the living room, but Casey ignored the urge to run out just so she could see that Bryce really was here. She fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, reliving the moment when everything came crashing down on her.

“We can’t do this, Rookie. There will never be an us.” Ethan groaned, running a hand over his face. He started to massage his temples, his eyes cast down on the paperwork laid out on his desk.

Casey started to reach out for her, but withdrew her hand when given a warning glare. “Ethan, I just—”

He shook his head, sitting up straight. “Enough. We are expected to maintain a professional relationship. Our feelings, whatever they may be, must not get in the way of our jobs. I’m sorry, Casey, but this has to end now.”

The floor could have opened up and swallowed her whole, and she would welcome it. Casey stood, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Fine.”

She turned and rushed from the office before she could change her mind, finally letting the tears flow freely when the truth became clear.

This time, it really was the end of her relationship with Ethan.

“Casey! Come eat before the food gets cold!” Jackie’s voice drew her back to reality. She could hear Bryce mumble something, followed by a chorus of laughter.

Could she face him tonight? It had been days since they’d spoken to each other.

After both Elijah and Sienna took turns calling out to her, Casey figured that there was no getting out of this situation. With a deep breath, she stood from her bed, checking her reflection in a mirror before walking to the door.

Everyone turned to look at her when the bedroom door creaked open. Bryce looked away the moment their eyes met, and she tried to ignore the flash of hurt she felt when he did.

“Hey,” Casey mumbled, directing her gaze to the floor as she made her way into the living room.

Of course, the only available spot was beside Bryce. It surprised her that he didn’t scoot away when she took a seat. The warmth radiating from him was enough to make her blush.

“We were just talking about some of the craziest cases we’ve had lately. Care to share some of your own?” It had to be the most words Bryce has said to her in weeks.

Casey looked up at him, her heart racing when their eyes met. “Um…sure.”

Bryce’s lips twitched, and some of the tension in his shoulders disappeared. “Great. Let’s hear it.”

By the end of the night, everyone else had gone to bed, save for Bryce and Casey. They’d been exchanging their most ridiculous school stories for hours.

“Did I ever tell you about one of my classmates in my first year of university that wanted to be a surgeon, but he was afraid of blood?” Casey’s voice echoed in the apartment, so loud that one of the bedroom doors flew open.

“Would you quiet it down? Some of us are trying to sleep,” Jackie hissed, squinting against the bright living room lights. “You two need to stop.”

“Sorry!” Casey covered her mouth as she fought back a laugh, glancing over at Bryce with wide eyes. Once Jackie retreated back into her room, the two of them chuckled. “God, I miss this.”

The words were out before she had a chance to reconsider. A rush of heat flooded over her face and Casey started to chew on her bottom lip. She tried to think of what to say, but her mind refused to come up with any words.

Finally, when it seemed like she may die of embarrassment, Bryce spoke. “I miss this, too. I miss you.”

“Really?” Hope swelled in her chest. “You do?”

He hesitated before reaching out to brush some hair behind her ear. “I meant it when I said being with you meant something to me. You’re everything I ever wanted, Case.”

Her eyes started to fill with tears, and Casey had to turn away. “I’m so sorry, Bryce. I—” The words caught in her throat, and she glanced down at her hands, folded in her lap.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do.” She gathered up the courage to look at him, still trying to fight back the tears. “I ruined things between us when you have always been the one who was right for me. And now you can barely look at me. You hate me, and it’s all my fault.”

Bryce took her face in his hands, turning her head to look at him. “It’s okay. You needed time to figure things out. And hate you? I could never. I—” He paused, his warm brown eyes meeting hers. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally, he took a deep breath, biting his lip before he opened his mouth. “I love you, Casey Valentine.”

Casey’s hand shook as she slowly raised it and placed it over his. A few tears managed to slip out, rolling down her cheeks. “I love you, Bryce Lahela.”

Both of them moved at the same time, closing the distance between them. It had been so long since they’d kissed. They were hesitant at first, a slight brush of the lips, before Casey moved closer, placing her hands on Bryce’s face.

She kept whispering that she was sorry, only stopping when he kissed her with more force, burying a hand in her hair. “Please, stop apologizing,” he mumbled against her lips, chuckling when she said sorry again.

Casey pulled back, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. How can you forgive me so easily? After everything I’ve done?”

“Because it hurts not having you around. You were there for me when I needed help with Keiki, and she still asks about you. I just—the thought of not being close to you again scares me. So, I don’t care about what happened. I’m sorry that it took me so long to stop acting like an idiot.”

“It’s you. It’s always been you.” I don’t know how I was so blind before. The last sentence she didn’t dare speak out loud. “Why don’t we start over?” She held a hand out, trying not to laugh when she broke out in a grin. “Nice to meet you, I’m Casey.”

Bryce smirked, playing along when he took her hand and shook it. “Hey, Casey. I’m Bryce.” He bit his bottom lip, obviously fighting a smile.

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?” She tried her best not to laugh, leaning back against the couch as Bryce started to tell her things she already knew.

Long into the night, the two of them sat and talked about their lives. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but they eventually fell asleep on the couch. Casey woke up hours later in Bryce’s arms, his steady breaths filling the quiet apartment.

She laced her fingers through his, thinking about the events of the past two years. There had been plenty of heartbreak and drama, but it had all led her back to Bryce. And right here, right now, she was in the arms of the man she loved, right where she belonged.

#choices fanfiction #bryce lahela #open heart #bryce x mc #bryce lahela x mc #choices: stories you play

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shawtygonemad · 3 years

Text

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 5

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

In the TARDIS there is no sense of time. Ross, however, was still accustomed to Earth Time. He needed to go bed at Earth's night, and got up at Earth's morning. It's been quite some time these two have been traveling together. One year, according to the last time they went to Earth. That was quite an adventure. Jackie nailed the Doctor in the face after she found out that some alien stole her son away for an entire twelve months.

On top of that, Earth was invaded be the Slitheen family from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius. The Doctor, Ross, and the help of Harriet Jones, blew up Downing Street. The Slitheen were destroyed and the world was saved, again.

Being through so much together you'd figure the Doctor would be used to Ross's human schedule by now. Yet, she was not. It annoyed her that this human needed so much sleep.

She was tinkering away below the grating in the console room to pass the time. Her eyes would keep wandering down to her wrist watch. Time Lords don't need as much sleep as humans do. She spent most of her time bored while Ross was in dreamland.

Finally losing her concentration, the Doctor decided to go make some tea. This seemed to be their routine. The Doctor would waste time during the night to fill her boredom. When she got frustrated she'd leave to make some tea, and a little breakfast. Ross usually awakens are this time.

By the time Ross woke up the Doctor had a fresh batch of Banana-Nut muffins and a warm cup of tea waiting at his usual spot. The Doctor glanced up from her book as the human entered the kitchen. A smile grew on her face. His blonde hair was a class 'A' bed head. His eyes were half lidded and still matted with sleep sand. He looked adorable.

"Good morning," she greeted as she went back to her book.

"Morning," he replied before sitting down and beginning his muffin graze.

Comfortable silence fell between them. Ross ate and drank while the Doctor continued to read The Hobbit. Once he was fully awake, Ross spoke up.

"You know, for someone who hates being 'domestic' you sure like to make breakfast every morning."

"It's not being domestic," she protested. "It's called being bored while you sleep your life away."

"Mhmm," he smiled as he continued to eat.

More silence ensued. That was, until the ringing of a phone echoed out. It wasn't Ross's mobile. It was an old fashioned one. That was either one of two people. Winston Churchill or… She quickly made her way to the console room. Ross followed behind her. She quickly approached the old fashioned phone attached to the console along with many other things. She picked the phone up and answered.

"'Ello?"

"Is this the Doctor," a clear, proper, American accent came through.

"This is she. Might I ask who's speaking," she knew who it was. She just enjoyed getting a rouse out of the man.

"It's Gatsby."

"Gatsby," she smiled. "What Gatsby?"

"It's Jay Gatsby, from New-"

"I'm just mucking about," the Doctor smiled

A soft laugh was heard from the other side.

"Right."

"It's been a while," she commented.

"To long in my opinion. In fact, that's why I called. I wanted to personally invite you to my party," Jay spoke confidentially.

"Tonight?" she asked.

"If you could make it," he said.

"I always make it whenever you invite me," her eyes wandered over to Ross who was patiently sitting on the jumper. "Do you mind if I bring a plus one?"

"Of course. Although the last time you were here you I don't remember you being committed," the Doctor was about to interrupt, but Jay quickly went on. "None of the less, I'd be happy to meet the old sport."

Jay went silent.

"Is there something you're not telling me," she questioned.

"Yes. There is something I need to speak with you about. However, I'd much rather do it in person rather than over the telephone."

"Okay," She said slowly.

"I'll see you tonight, then."

"Tra."

They hung up. She turned toward her companion, and grinned.

"So, Ross Tyler, how's about a trip to the 1920's sound?"

"Sounds amazing, but who was on the phone?"

"We were just invited to one of the biggest parties New York has seen. It just so happens to be in the wonderful roaring '20's."

"Tonight?" he asked excited.

"Yup! So you best get dressed. You remember where the wardrobe room is, yeah?"

"Yeah," he began to leave the room when he noticed the Doctor wasn't going to follow. "Aren't you going to change?"

"I wasn't planning on it," She informed him.

"Well you can't go like that. You look like a… biker girl."

"Oi!"

The TARDIS hummed, agreeing with Ross.

"Whose side are you on?!"

The ship hummed once more, encouraging her to change.

"Fine," she sighed, giving in.

The Doctor walked with Ross in the direction of the wardrobe. She kept moving forward once Ross entered the public costume room. She, however, had her own personal room for this. It's where she decides her signature outfit for each regeneration.

She stepped inside the Time Lord sized closet. It was massive. Most females would kill for a closet this size. The Doctor walked forward onto the platform in the center of the wardrobe. Spiral racks of many different clothes reached from the ground to ceiling.

A dress was already selected and placed on the lounge couch. The TARDIS must have picked it out for her. Trusting in her old friend's decision, she put the dress on. It was a spaghetti strapped, mid-thigh dress. The tassels on the dress hung down to her knees. The top of the dress was silver. It faded to gold at her mid-section. That then faded down to a brown shade. The best part of the dress was that it had hidden pockets for her to hold her sonic screwdriver and other various items.

She put on a pair of short heeled silver shoes. They were perfect for dancing, even though she would refuse to. Nothing could really be done with her hair, so she just put a diamond headband across her forehead. And much to her dismay, she ended up putting some make-up on.

Once the TARDIS was satisfied with her friend, she released the Time Lord back into the halls. The Doctor made her way back to the console room. She was met by an incredibly handsome Ross wearing a tuxedo. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Wow, you look… stunning," Ross said breathless.

The Doctor flushed red. "You look very handsome. Well, considering…" She trailed off.

"Considering what?"

"That you're human."

She stepped down and started to command the controls. They were in the '20's in no time. She parked the TARDIS in the gardens, and turned to Ross.

"Ready to go," she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he smiled and offered her his arm.

She gladly took it. They stepped out together. The music was surprisingly very loud. They walked together out of the garden, past the pool and bar and entered the mansion. People were everywhere. It was the height of the party. Glitter and confetti rained down on top of them. The Doctor grabbed two glasses of champagne from a waiter. She past a glass to Ross, who was staring at everything in awe.

"This is incredible," he spoke.

She smiled and sipped on her drink.

"Care for a dance," he asked.

"Oh no. I don't dance," she informed him.

"Who doesn't know how to dance," he accused.

"I never said I didn't know how to. I said that I 'DON'T' dance."

She then noticed a brunette girl smiling at Ross. A pang of jealousy hit her. She hid it though.

"Besides, it seems that you might have a volunteer," she gestured to the girl.

"But-"

"Go have fun," she encouraged. "I have something's that need to be taken care of."

"If you're sure..."

"I am. Go on," she smiled.

Ross gave her a sad look before turning towards the girl. The Doctor stepped away and began up a staircase. She tried to weave through the people, but ended up bumping into a man.

"I'm sorry," he began. "This may seem like an odd question, but have you seen the host, Mr. Gatsby?"

"I have not, but I'll be sure to send him your way…?" she trailed off.

"Nick Carraway," he smiled and shook her hand.

"I'm the Doctor."

"A female doctor. You don't see too many of those," he commented.

"Well it was a pleasure, Mr. Carraway."

She continued up the stairs. She walked over to the railing and searched the crowd below. Ross was instantly spotted. He looked like he was having a blast with the girl. She had the urge to do down and butt in.

Why was she feeling this way? He was just her companion. Nothing more. But what is this feeling? She wasn't starting to develop feelings for him, was she? No, they were simply friends.

The Doctor felt hot breath against her ear. "A lady should never be at a party alone."

"I brought my plus one, Mr. Gatsby," She smirked.

"Where is the old sport?"

"He's down enjoying your party," She took another sip of her champagne. "So, what was it you wanted to talk with me about?"

"Let's speak about this in private," he said and guided her away from the party.

He led her to his study. It was a cluttered mess. Books and papers were everywhere. She took a seat in the vinyl chair and set her drink down on the desk.

"Tell me your troubles," she leaned back, and got comfortable.

Gatsby began to pace.

"This may sound a bit mad," he began.

'Believe me, I've probably heard worse,' she thought.

"Over the last few months I have been slowly losing my memories. The oldest things I can remember were about a few weeks before the war. Right around the time I met Daisy Fay. I can't seem to recall my childhood at all."

She let this fact roll around in her head for a moment.

"I thought it would be appropriate to contact you. The last time we met you said that you were a doctor who specialized in odd situations."

"I am," she said absentmindedly.

What could this be? Possibly Alzheimer's? No, this had to be something else.

"Has anything else seemed not quite right?" she asked.

"Well," he started. "I've been feeling drained both physically and mentally."

"Hmm," the Doctor continued to think.

These symptoms seemed like any normal human disease. However, something still seemed off. It was like she could feel a burst of energy coming from somewhere in the mansion. Ross and she will have to check it out.

"Do you mind if I have a look around," she asked while standing up.

"Be my guest. If you'll excuse me, I have to meeting to get to," he took her hand and placed a kiss on it before exiting the room.

The Doctor noticed a dial phone on the desk. She picked up the receiver of the phone and dialed Ross's number. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. The music was blaring in the background, which caused Ross to yell into the phone.

"'Ello," he said loudly.

"Ross, I need you to meet me at the balcony overlooking the dance floor," she informed him.

"Okay. Did you find something," he asked.

"Not yet," she said while taking out her screwdriver from her secret pocket. "We're going to have a look around though."

Once they hung up the phone the two met by the balcony. The Doctor began to change the setting on her sonic. It was now set to scan.

"What did you find out?" Ross asked.

"Mr. Gatsby is beginning to have some memory loss. He didn't mention having any head trauma."

She began to scan the area. She paused. That's strange. She was getting a reading of high energy from deep within the mansion. The Doctor followed the signal with Ross following beside her. They were led into a very large bedroom.

"The signal is coming from over here," she scanned a wall behind the bed.

She placed the sonic back into her pocket. How does this thing open? She ran her hands over the wall, only to find nothing. She then spied a painting on the wall and got an idea. The Time Lord grinned.

'Fantastic!'

"Ross, how good is your American history," she asked.

"Okay, I guess," he said awkwardly.

"If you lived in America in 1922, where would you hide the switch to open the door to your speakeasy?" she grinned, waiting for him to figure it out.

He was quiet for a second while he thought. His eyes searched the wall. He began to smile when his eyes fell upon the painting.

"Behind a painting," he exclaimed.

The Doctor grabbed the painting and placed it on the floor. On the wall was a switch. The Doctor flipped it up, and the wall slid to the side. Her eyes widened when she saw what was behind it.

"This must be what was giving off the energy reading."

"What is it," Ross asked curiously.

"It's a transmatt beam," she stepped inside along with Ross. "But where does it go?"

She pressed the red button. She could never resist. The pair was suddenly beamed up into a ship. The Doctor stepped out. They were in, what seemed to be, a lab. She began to look around. It was like a classic mad scientist's laboratory.

"Doctor, you might want to see this," Ross called her over.

She walked over to find an entire wall full of what looked like crystal balls. Something light blue was swirling in each one. Below every crystal was a name.

Furrowing her brows, she took out her sonic and scanned one. When the readings were finished she was shocked with what she found. She placed the sonic back in her pocket.

"These are memories. Whoever these people are, they're stealing memories," she paused.

What if they were caught while they were here? She could easily block an intruder even if she was in a regenerative sleep. But Ross couldn't, and the Doctor doesn't want to have the hassle of restoring his memories.

"Ross, if they are stealing memories, then we are both at risk. I know how to keep people out of my mind. So I'm going to give you a quick lesson on how to do the same. It's easy."

"How do you do that," Ross frowned.

"It's a part of your mind that most humans can't get to. I'll have to guide you to it, if you'll let me," she spoke that last part softly.

"Of course I'll let you," Ross said quickly.

"This is a very intimate action. I'll be inside your mind," she warned him.

"Let's do it. I don't want to lose my memories," Ross spoke, determined.

The Doctor nodded, and placed her finger tips on the connecting points on his face.

"It's like a mind-meld that Mr. Spock does in Star Trek," she tried to explain.

She concentrated as she expanded her mind into her companion's. She was suddenly hit with confusion and… comfort? Those weren't her emotions. Those were Ross's.

'Ross, can you hear me?'

'Yes. What's going on?'

'I'm in your mind. Just follow my consciousness. I'll lead you towards the hippocampus.'

She began to guide him through his mind. She tried not to look at things that were personal. She moved slowly so her pink and yellow human could keep up. They finally made their way to the heart of the memory storage.

'Okay. I'm going to choose a memory at random. I want you to try and push me out. Completely out of your mind. Just imagine a door slamming shut and locking.'

As she informed him she stepped into one of his memories. The scene was set outside of Ross's apartment building. It was snowing out. Ross was returning home. She noticed a short woman with long brown hair. She was wearing a dress that was brown and pinstriped. She had a tan overcoat on as well. Her shoes were cream colored converse. She looked as if she was in pain. The Doctor instantly spotted the TARDIS in the distance.

"Are you alright, love?" she heard younger Ross ask the woman.

"Yeah."

"To much to drink?" he smiled.

"Something like that."

"Maybe it's time you went home," he suggested.

"Yeah."

"Anyway, Happy New Year," he told her with a grin.

"And you. What year is this," she asked.

"Blimey, how much have you had? 2005, January the first."

"2005. Tell you what. I bet you're going to have a really great year," she told him.

"Yeah? See-"

She was suddenly pushed out of Ross's mind. She was so engrossed in the memory that this took her by surprise. She dropped her hands from his face, and opened her eyes. She grinned at him.

"Brilliant! A little slow, but that's to be expected of a first timer."

"It wasn't as hard as I thought," Ross grinned.

The Doctor noticed something off to the side of the lab. She walked over to investigate. One of the crystals was placed on a pedestal-like machine. The computer next to the machine had a bunch of data and information on it.

Name: James (Jay) Gatz (Gatsby)

Age: 32

Species: Human

Breeding Notes: Body is healthy. Fully capable. Good gene pool.

Drainage: 26%

The Doctor stared at the screen reading through the information. The 'drainage' must be the memory. But what does 'breeding notes' have to do with anything?

"Oh," the Doctor grinned. "I get it now."

"Get what?" Ross asked.

"These, whoever they are, are erasing people's memories leaving the body mindless. An empty hard drive. The body will then be used for some type of breeding. But why?"

"Doctor!" Ross cried out.

The Doctor turned around only to get a needle driven into her neck. Her eyelids began to droop as she was hit with drowsiness. Everything went to black.

#romance #adventure #doctor x rose #the doctor #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who fanfic #doctor who #ninth doctor #9th doctor x rose #9th doctor

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bitemealiienboy · 4 years

Text

Sonder | D!Master x F!Reader (Pt 1)

Summary: The year is 2014, The Master has been posing as O as MI6 for a year and is slowly but surely gaining the trust of the most important members of MI6. He is asked to work on a new project where he meets Agent S (the reader).

Word Count: Over 2300

Warnings: mentions of death.

Notes: Should probably warn you now that this is gonna be a slow build. The Prologue to this series and any other parts (providing they have been published) can be found here.

“With a thousand lies and a good disguise.” — The Offspring

Earth, what an awful planet. The Master hated every moment of his life here. He struggled to understand why The Doctor loved this planet so much, why they would even go as far as to befriend some of its inhabitants. He couldn’t wait to destroy this pathetic planet. He couldn’t wait to show The Doctor the charred and burnt remains of this insufferable planet. In his dreams he could clearly see the look of horror on The Doctor’s face, the moment of realisation when they find out that every human they have ever loved and known is gone with their planet.

The Master had been working at MI6 for just over a year now and was still yet to meet a human who he found tolerable. He wished that he could miniaturise the whole lot of them. Acting like kind and sweet O all day long was draining and boring. Was it too much to ask for a little bit of excitement?

The last time he had done anything remotely fun was the day he ambushed the MI6 Agent on his way to work. He would often think back on that day, his last act of brilliance in over a year. Shame there was no one there to see it. He remembered how he stalked the man on his way to work. The Master couldn't even remember his name. Either way, it wasn't important. As far as he was concerned the man was just collateral damage. A means to an end, at the time he didn’t care if the young man had a family who’d miss him. He still doesn’t care.

The Master couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how he held up MI6 Agent against a wall forcing the man to give him all of his ID cards and his tie. He remembered how he let the man go, watching the man run for a small second, long enough to give him hope before pointing the TCE at him and killing him at the simple push of a button.

The Master would re-live that day, a lot. Especially when things at his job got incredibly boring.

The last thing you wanted was to see C first thing on a Monday morning. It was way too early for another one of his long and boring meetings. You needed a coffee or at least some sort of caffeine in your system to have the strength to sit through a pointless meeting.

You despise your new role at MI6. Your fall from field agent to an analysis wasn’t graceful. Despite it being over a year ago, you were still annoyed at C’s decision to remove you from the field over a minor injury.

You let out a sigh of annoyance as you reached the door to C’s office. You knocked on it a few times before opening the door and poking your head round. Much to your relief it wasn’t a meeting. C was sitting at his large desk, opposite him was a man with dark hair and a white shirt on.

“Oh, If you’re busy I can come back later.” You said, about to close the door.

“No, no. S, I would like you to meet, O.” C said getting up from his chair.

“O?” You said walking into the room. You walked toward the man called O. He stood up, he turned to face you. He has a warm and welcoming smile as he places his hand out to you. You shook it.

“I’ve asked O to join you and your team,” C explained.

You turned to face C, raising a brow at him. “No one told me about this,” you said.

“It was a last minute decision.”

“Of course.” You said, trying to hide your doubt.

The meeting, if you could call it that, didn’t last long after that. C asked you to explain to O his new role and introduce him to the new office. So you did exactly that. You rushed through the office politics first. Small but important things like how you're expected to get everyone a round of tea and coffee once in a while.

After that you went on to explain what he would be expected to do. Your team's work mainly consisted of researching the public, in particular anyone who seemed suspicious or dangerous. Most of the time you and your team were wrong with your suspicions, the flaw of working in a somewhat dangerous job was that everyone was suspicious.

O followed you into the office kitchen, you put the kettle on to make yourself a much needed coffee.

“Want anything?” You asked.

“A tea please,” O said rather quietly.

You leaned back onto the kitchen counter as you waited for the kettle to boil. You glanced at O, quietly studying him. You could tell that he was still relatively new to MI6. The shy way in which he carried himself. There was also a certain naivety about him.

“So what were you doing before?” You asked.

“Same role but for a different department.” O said as the kettle finished boiling. “What about you?” He asked, helping to make the drinks.

“I was a field agent. Undercover work.”

“What happened?” O quickly said. He paused and quietly said “sorry, I’m being nosy.”

“It's fine,” you reassured him. “I got an injury and C insisted on putting me on desk duty.”

O simply nodded. He could read your mind, well parts of it anyway. Upon meeting you he knew small fragments about you, bits of your mind that were on show to him. Of course there were some bits of information he would like to know, but he would get them from you in good time. The best part about it was that you would never even know about it.

“So who are you currently looking into?” O asked, taking a sip of his tea.

“Several Politicians and some ex-spies,” you said. “But if you’re asking about the most known person then it would be Daniel Barton.”

O quietly and quickly noted how direct you were. He presumed it was a part of the job or perhaps the fact that you had no time or patients for wasting time.

“So,” O looked at you as you spoke. “Are you ready to meet the team?”

O nodded. In reality he didn’t want to meet ‘the team’, he didn’t want to be a part of ‘the team’. He didn’t even want to be here for that matter. He would much rather be back in his TARDIS, or miles away from Earth terrorising a planet. He knew it was going to be a long few years. He knew he was going to hate every moment of it. But the look on The Doctor’s face would make it all worthwhile.

Upon meeting them he didn’t think much of ‘the team’ which consisted of S and three other agents named G, L, and M. There was nothing special about the three agents. They were all predictable and weak humans, they would all become collateral damage once his plan had begun.

“O?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to face one of the agents, it was L. Agent L was the tallest of all the other agents. He was lanky and looked younger than the rest of the team. You could see the acne scars on parts of his pale face, although most of his face was covered by a curly mop of brown, greasy looking hair.

“I’ve heard of you before,” L said. “Use to work with a mate of mine.”

“Oh really who?” O asked.

“He said you did a lot of research on Aliens.”

He withheld a frustrated sigh. It annoyed him that L completely ignored his question. But what annoyed him more was the smirk of the boy's face when he said Aliens. He thought the urge to strangle him right there and choose to innocently smile and nod.

“Well I can save you a lot of time,” O bit down on his tongue as L continued to speak. L’s tone was mocking, he made a small laugh before saying, “Aliens don’t exist.”

O faked a laugh and smiled. He walked away from him and went to greet the other agents. He didn’t want to but anything was better than L being am embarrassment.

He silently decided that L was going to have to disappear.

O kept to himself for the rest of the day. He had a small conversation with M and G but quickly knew all that he wanted to know about the two agents. M was a kind-hearted woman who hates her room mate and has a cat. As for G he was a man of average height but was incredibly built, he insisted on performing every task to perfection and had dreams of becoming a field agent.

“Just ignore L. He’s only picking on you because you’re new.”

He looked up to see S holding two mugs. He smiled as you handed him a cup of tea and went to take a seat opposite him. To O smiling seemed like the simplest reaction for most situations. No talking was involved, meaning he wouldn’t slip up by accident. Also humans seemed to appreciate it a lot. “It’s like being back at school.” He said. It was partly true, one thing Earth and Gallifrey had in common was that school was a nightmare for some people.

“That’s because L still has the mental age of a 15 year old school boy.”

O laughed at your comment. It was genuine, not a fake smile like before. You were the most bearable out of the team. Perhaps he would be nice for once and you wouldn’t become collateral damage in the years to come.

“L is rather young. He still looks like he’s at school.” He decided to keep the conversation going.

“Straight out of University. L might be childish but he’s smart.” You said, taking a small sip of your drink.

“So he’s still got a lot to learn?”

“Something like that.”

The next few months were not fun at all for O. The work was fine, the work was bearable. What he hated was the people. Listening to his colleagues talk about their personal lives and to act like he cared about them was perhaps one of the greatest challenges that he ever faced.

But none of that compared to L and his constant jokes about Aliens. O wished that he could show L everything. To prove the smug git wrong. He imagined what it would be like to show him the stars and then to throw him into them and watch the fear on his face as he slowly died. O dreamed pushing L into the sun or a black hole.

His desire to kill L was endless. As O realised that his lust for murder wasn’t going to end anytime soon he had to take a week off. Just a week to leave Earth and become The Master again. He thought that perhaps burning a world would stop his need to kill L for a while. He thought wrong.

“Hey!”

O sighed as he saw L. He was on his way home. He really didn’t want to deal with L. “What?” O grumbled in annoyance.

“Why didn’t you give C my research pack?”

“Because it’s not my job to.” O watched in boredom waiting for L to reply. He didn’t. “If you have nothing else to see then—” O didn’t finish his sentence. He started to walk off.

But he couldn’t shake off the darkness that overcame him this time. He turned around and marched up to L. His hand went to his throat as he pushed the agent up against the wall. He watched L struggle and whimper for a second, feeling a warm buzz.

“You know nothing,” He spoke darkly.

He smirked at L, his grip on the man slowly got tighter the more he struggled. As soon as L realised this he became limp. All of sweet and innocent O was lost. He was The Master again. The Master used his free hand to touch L’s temple, he was going to prove him wrong. He sent him a flash of images of burning worlds and creatures from other worlds. He stopped once he decided that L had seen enough, he let go of the man and watched him run. He let out a laugh of excitement.

But that came to a quick halt. He ran a hand through his hair, his heart's racing as he slowly began to realise how big he messed up. Adrenaline began to run through him as he thought about what he was going to do. He had to get rid of L before Monday morning. He couldn’t risk the possibility of L telling on him.

It was Friday morning. L hadn't been in work for a few days and The Master was still buzzing from what he did earlier that week. For the time being, that feeling kept his mind off of the worry that L still told someone or that someone saw him.

He continued to carry on with the week as normal, he would do his work quietly and not bother anyone. Occasionally he would glance over at L’s empty desk, he would lock eyes with M or G who were doing the same thing. He would mirror their look of confusion and mouth a “I don’t know,” when they asked if they knew where L was.

It was late afternoon on Friday when S came into the shared office asking for everyone’s attention. O looked up at S, he took his earbuds out. From the look on her face he could tell that it was about L.

“S, what’s going on?” M asked.

“L has gone missing. . .”

O watched to see what G and M were doing. He saw Agent G put a hand to her mouth in shock. He slowly copied, he placed a hand to his mouth and kept it there. It hid the grin he couldn’t help but show.

“You’re joking,” O gasped.

#doctor who fanfic #doctor who imagine #doctor who fic #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan master #dhawan master x reader #the master #the master x reader #the master imagine

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theincompetentgenius · 4 years

Text

Genderbent Headcanons Part 2 (Zero, Kyle, Edgar)

@aiallardyce: Hello!! I really loved your ikerev genderbend headcanons so can you do the same for zero, edgar, and kyle too??

I’m glad you enjoyed the first part! I’m sorry that this took a while to get to, btu it’s finished. Also, if any of you are interested in the original Genderbent Headcanons (with Lancelot, Ray, Fenrir, Jonah, and Harr), click here!

Zero

It wouldn’t take too long for the Ace of Hearts to figure out this gender switch. The first indicator would be that his head feels heavy in the morning. As he gets up from his bed, long locks of hair bother his view. When he pushes them away, Zero notices that his previously-short hair is nearly five times longer. He rushes the mirror to see what’s going on and becomes a complete tomato when he looks at the mirror.

The female version of Zero is absolutely gorgeous though. His soft, black hair is in loose waves and reaches his tailbone. The blonde strand provides a beautiful frame for his face structure. His face itself is smaller with fuller lips and narrow blue eyes. For body structure, Zero has a few curves here and there. His tattoo looks more alluring as it’s placed right above his cleavage.

At first, the poor boy won’t know how to deal with this. It seems intrusive to change his clothes or use the bathroom. But if that’s the case, how is he supposed to function? Maybe if he doesn’t look.... or change.... or do anything......

It doesn’t help that Zero has amazing curves, so changing into his uniform is quite the struggle. He can’t get any of his shirts to fit around his chest. Either the buttons pop off or the shirt doesn’t go down. He ends up calling his S/O for his dilemma, and the two decide that he’ll be wearing an oversized sweater (if his S/O is a female, he’ll borrow their bra too).

He doesn’t want to bother anyone with his sudden switch-up, but Zero quickly realizes that he can’t carry on with his day as a female without letting another officer know about his situation. So he ends up goes to Kyle, since the doctor would have the most level-headed reaction and actually help Zero without bringing any unwanted attention. They come up with plans to avoid Jonah and Edgar for the whole day.

However, when his S/O learns about Zero’s situation, the two decide to have some fun with it! The Ace of Hearts decides to go shopping with his lover, stepping inside the world of style and fashion. Initially, he’s overwhelmed by all the options. After going through a million fluffy, ruffly, and frumpy dresses, Zero decides that he looks best in something cute and casual. He spends the rest of his day in a long, orange Victorian-style dress.

Unfortunately, Zero couldn’t hide from Edgar forever. The Jack of Hearts finds Zero in his feminine form as the couple returns from shopping. Just as Edgar gets close to the two, Zero feels the sudden urge to whack him across the face. His normally-calm demeanor is replaced with a fiery irritation that’s almost foreign to the poor boy. It takes a lot of explaining from his S/O that female Zero might be approaching shark week.

Suddenly, Zero has a newfound understanding of moody women.

Edgar Bright

Edgar notices the change immediately. When he wakes up, his head feels significantly heavier and he is greeted to straight, long locks of golden brown. His hair perfectly frames his face, fanning across his pillow in a perfect circle. As he stands, his hair falls from his head to the middle of his back. With all that hair and pillow interaction, you’d expect him to have some bedhead. Newsflash: he doesn’t (and I hate him for it).

After Jonah, Edgar has to be the next best-looking officer as a female. He is absolutely stunning with his almond green eyes, soft lips, and pinched nose. His jaw is softer, giving the illusion of a smaller, more elegant face.

The Jack of Heart is absolutely ecstatic to try out his secret stash of makeup on his female face. At first, Edgar opts for a a sharp, thin winged liner with soft highlight and a reddish-nude lipstick. However, he realizes that he may not get the opportunity to be a female again (so he might as well go all out). Don’t be surprised if you see a female Edgar walking on the streets with a face of soft-glam makeup.

Also, the Jack of Hearts cannot wait to mess around with literally EVERYONE in the Red Army. He won’t tell anyone about his situation (except for his S/O, who’ll help him with his shenanigans). He’s renamed himself “Valentina Breight” and pretends to be a long-lost princess of an undiscovered kingdom.

His first victim is none other than Jonah Clemence. Edgar approaches him as a secret admirer, pretending to be madly in love with Queen of Hearts. Of course, Jonah will turn his head away, but that won’t stop Edgar from trying to get his affection. He’ll sing boisterous love songs, recite a sickeningly-sweet poem, and anything else that will embarrass the daylight out of Jonah. It’s not until Jonah threatens to kick him out that Edgar drops the act. Jonah is beyond furious.

The next victim is Zero. Edgar will find Zero alone, swaying his hips as he approaches the Ace of Hearts. He’ll start teasing the poor boy the same way he teases his S/O, leaving Zero completely flustered. In fact, Edgar gets a kick out of all the fact that Zero resembles a tomato. The torture continues until Jonah comes from the back with his sword, screaming at Edgar. Zero is in disbelief and quite pissed, joining Jonah in his angry tirade. But all he does is call Edgar a crazy person.

Afterward, he goes to see Kyle. However, Kyle is too with his patients to give “Valentina” a moment of his time, so Edgar goes to see Lancelot. Unfortunately, the surprise has been ruined as Jonah let the king know of Edgar’s shenanigans beforehand. However, Lance can’t help but smile as he watches Edgar make a complete fool out of himself.

Kyle Ash

Lmao this man is so much more hungover than usual because he’s significantly smaller. However, his hangover is so strong that he won’t even notice until he walks into his office, where all the soldiers gawk at the mysterious woman. He’ll mistake the soliders’ awkwardness for fear of his medical equipment, making a sarcastic comment. Once he speaks, he realizes that his voice sounds much more feminine than normal. Either his hangover is making him hear things or he’s suddenly become a woman

When he looks in the mirror, the first thing that goes through his head is “That explains the massive hangover.”

As a female, Kyle still has a boyish look. He has a red pixie cut with large eyebrows and defined cheekbones, His face shape won’t change too much and neither does his body shape. He’s kind of disappointed with the lack of fat in certain areas, but oh well.

In general, the doctor isn’t too surprised by the gender swap. He manages to do his usual activities throughout the day. In fact, he got so used it that he found himself in an awkward situation when he entered the men’s bathroom instead of the women’s bathroom. Also, sitting while going for the #1 is a little strange, but he is able to adjust thanks to his knowledge about anatomy.

However, Kyle does need to call it a day at the office because the soldiers are extremely uncomfortable and refuse treatment from this stranger. To solve this issue, Kyle assigns his S/O to be the primary doctor as he acts as a “nurse”. This means that Kyle is giving his S/O some exposure to his duties as a doctor while helping them from the side. It doesn’t last for long though as the soldiers are still uncomfortable and his S/O is too nervous.

Kyle also takes his gender swap as an opportunity to give Lancelot his annual shot. He’ll have his S/O call the king into Kyle’s office, instructing Lancelot to sit down and get comfortable. Although the king is suspicious (as he’s been avoiding Kyle and the annual shot), Lancelot is stunned when he is greeted with a female Kyle. The doctor takes this moment of shock and swoops in, giving the shot to the king. Needless to say, Lancelot is not going to be happy about it

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerev zero #edgar bright #kyle ash #ikerev edgar #ikerev kyle #ikemen zero #ikemen kakumei #ikerev headcanons

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maknaesdancersrappers · 5 years

Text

devotee.

warning/s: very dark themes (stalking, non consensual voyeurism, extreme violence, mentions of blood, talks about abusive mental disorders, obsession, death threats??), explicit smut (masturbation, unprotected sex, cum play, cunnilingus)

Please read at your own discretion.

Jaehyun’s version of Devoted. (please read this first if you haven’t before reading this one)

wc: ~12k

a/n: this is a scheduled post; i should be out of town when this gets posted, so please leave me messages about your thoughts on this!! This will give a little insight on how Jaehyun’s mind works throughout the entire Devoted!AU.

disclaimer: I don’t know anything about how therapy works (uh,,, not yet??) and the actual inner workings of it all so please excuse any blunders if there are any in that aspect!!! I’m pretty sure even the professions I’m using are wrong, so I’m sorry huehuehue ;A; feel free to educate my naive ass.

Jeon Bohyuk sighs heavily, reading through the notes from his last therapy session from months ago. It was alarming how… troubled… this family was. His own father had warned him about taking on his position, but he still pursued it. Bound by extreme secrecy and a very, very hefty paycheck; Dr. Jeon can only do as he’s told and make sure none of these sessions make it out to the public.

It was quite difficult being the Jung Conglomerate’s therapist.

His father always told him, “The Jung’s come first in any situation and problem they face.”

A knock sounds on the door and Dr. Jeon tells them to let themselves in. The familiar face peeks through the door and politely smiles like he always does.

“Ah, Jaehyun. It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” He greets, standing up to move from his desk to the armchair while the newcomer sits at the velvet chaise lounge like a routine.

“Good morning, doctor.” Jaehyun sighs, sinking his body against the furniture already.

Dr. Jeon notices the bandaged hand resting on his patient’s lap, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he picks up his pen and notepad. “So, how have you been since our last meeting? I was starting to think you would never come back.”

Jaehyun stares at the ceiling for a moment and Dr. Jeon notes it down while he starts to answer him, “I might not come back for awhile after this… my girlfriend, [Y/N]...”

“Yes?” Dr. Jeon looks up at him through his lashes, anticipating his following words. These sessions were because of her; or rather, how Jaehyun had become obsessed with her.

“She knows about my condition. The gist, at least. I didn’t mention the actual disorder; not yet… the timing wasn’t right.”

“And?” Dr. Jeon is continuously writing down in his notepad. “How did Ms. [Y/N] react?”

“Like you predicted, she was scared. But we compromised,” Jaehyun glances at him.

He nods his head and hums in approval, “That’s good. Did you willingly tell her or?”

“No, I got caught.” Jaehyun moves his bare hand over his bandaged one, “You told me during our last session that I should try putting some distance between us.”

It was to help - and also test - his (unhealthy) obsession with her. For years, he comes in for therapy sessions to talk about her and how he feels. Any other psychologists would have been alarmed, but given his family background, Dr. Jeon simply accepted that Jaehyun had found his trigger. What troubles him, however, was his wording. “Caught? What do you mean?”

“A break?” She stares up at him, “What do you mean?”

The suggestion was out of Jaehyun’s mouth before he could actually think it through. He stops walking, resulting her to stop as well. He pouts at her, pushing her stray strands of hair away from her face. “We barely have time for each other. We’re not breaking up, but we just… take a break from seeing each other to focus on finals and getting things done for graduation.”

She gives it a thought, “I guess you’re right… Plates are piling up and most of them have the same deadline.”

“I’d love to watch you work on them and cheer you on, but we hit a bump with our thesis.”

“Then I guess a break is really something we need, yeah? But we’re not technically breaking up, right?” She stretches her arms and hook them over his nape, playing with his soft, thick hair.

“Of course not.” He almost scowls, bringing a little giggle to bubble from her chest. “Until finals are over, there won’t be any seeing each other.”

“No booty calls.”

Jaehyun is visibly disheartened by this, but still nods, “No booty calls. No de-stressing together.”

“No dates,” She adds, “Even texts and phone calls?”

“No distractions at all.” There was regret in his words already. “I can’t walk you to your classes anymore.”

Truth be told, he didn’t have to walk her to her classes. His routes to his classes don’t even graze hers; he literally goes out of his way to walk her to her room, even though he could possibly be late (maybe even locked out) of his next subject.

“This is torture, Jaehyun, are you sure about this?”

Again, before he can think it through, he nods his head and it seals the deal.

Jaehyun barely lasted a day without her, constantly fighting the urge to find her or even send her a text. Halfway through the week, he busies himself with studies but always finds his mind wandering to what she was doing. At the end of the first week, he can’t congratulate himself; he needed to know how she was, what she was doing, where she’s been during her free time; he thinks about if she had pleasured herself with him running through her mind. He needed to see her, touch her, breathe her scent in. The picture on his nightstand isn’t enough, but he doesn’t have a choice. He’s done it before, and there’s no shame in doing it again, he’s just glad he has her photo protected between glasses to make it easier to clean later.

By the second week, he is back to his old habits. He’s keeping tabs on her; following her around when both their schedules are free. His mind is at ease knowing she’s keeping to herself without him, enjoying the company of her friends - people he actually trusts - and not paying attention to other guys.

Jaehyun remembers one of his therapy sessions; how Dr. Jeon talked about how his obsession with her was borderline unhealthy. He said that there was a high chance she wouldn’t like it and would probably leave him. The thought frightened Jaehyun; losing her was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. But she was so attractive; she might not see it, but he can. He can see every guy glancing at her when she enters a room or passes by. He can see their eyes glint with appreciation as it rakes down her entire being, how they would lick their lips like she was their next meal. It made his blood boil.

He follows her around not because he doesn’t trust her; he just doesn’t trust anybody else around her.

But her roommates just had to invite her out one Friday night.

There was a permanent frown on his face as he presses his back to the adjacent wall of her bedroom window.

“No. That’s too short.”

Without even looking, Jaehyun already knew what dress her roommate had pulled out of her closet. The image of her in that little black dress that stopped just above her thighs immediately sent a reaction to his crotch. He hated that dress because everything only he should see would be exposed to the world if she so much as lean forward; but he loved to fuck her in that dress. Easy access.

“It’s cute and sexy!”

‘Damn right, it is. But it’s also for my eyes only.’ Jaehyun presses himself more into the shadows when he spots some night joggers passing by.

“But Jae-”

“Last time I checked, you and Jaehyun are currently on break. Let your legs and ass breathe while they can. You’ve kept your best assets in pants or baggy shorts because Jaehyun doesn’t like it when guys ogle them.”

‘Fuck you, Minkyung. I’m supposed to like you more than Yebin.’

“Uhm, I don’t like being ogled by other guys, too.”

‘Oh, my poor baby, don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’ll regret even looking at you.’ He shifts a bit, adjusting his half-hard cock in his pants and peeking through her blinds. He almost let out a moan; she looked so… delicious in that dress. There’s no way a guy won’t be sparing her an appreciative once-over. He quietly leaves, careful not to make the metal stairs squeak under his feet.

Jaehyun knows where they were heading. He’s heard Yebin talking about it weeks ago. A quick taxi ride later, he’s seated at the far end of the bar. He had a tall glass of beer, watching the crowd from under his cap. Minutes later, he spots her and her roommates walking in. When she turned her head to the bar, he looks down to avoid her gaze. Giving it a few seconds, he cautiously looks back up to find her making her way to an empty booth.

“Jaehyun!” Someone pats his back and he’s lucky the music drowned out his voice before it could even reach to where she is. “I rarely see you drinking without your girl, man.”

Jaehyun sighs, pulling a face at the person who welcomed himself to the empty seat beside him.

Kim Mingyu was an ace player on the baseball team. He was on the basketball team for the first year of uni with Jaehyun, but switched sports during sophomore year.

“Yeah, we’re on a break.” Jaehyun might as well entertain him. In case he gets discovered by her or her roommates, he could always use Mingyu as an alibi. “We won’t have time for each other since we’re all graduating soon.”

“Tell me about it! We just had our very last training a while ago, so we’re celebrating here. Just tossed our bats and mitts in the back of our pick-ups and drove here.” Mingyu nods to his rowdy teammates over at the corner of the room. “I’m gonna miss baseball.”

“Not going pro?” Jaehyun takes a sip of his beer, briefly glancing over to her booth where a waiter delivered her cocktails.

Mingyu thanks the bartender after the beer he ordered was served to him. He chuckles, shaking his head to his question, “Nah, I don’t love the sport enough to have it become my profession. I’m going to try and be a model instead. What about you? You left basketball for your girlfriend. Talk about being whipped.”

“Basketball is just a hobby and another way to exercise for me. Besides, I’m taking over the family business so going pro isn’t an option.”

Jaehyun continues to converse with Mingyu, still checking up on her every now and then. He’s had three beers already that had his body buzzing and although it’s not enough to make him tipsy or drunk, he stops drinking and opted for water.

“Hey, man.” Mingyu slurs a bit, “It was great catching up with you, but I should go back to my teammates, it is our last night as a team.”

“You, too. Take care, Mingyu.” Jaehyun offers a weary smile as he watches his friend shakily stumbled back to where his team was. He moves his gaze back to her booth but panicked when he found it empty. Quickly, his eyes scan the dancing crowd and he’s quick to spot her. However, relief is nowhere in his system. There was a man eyeing her from behind and his gut already told him to make his way over.

But he was too late because from what it looks like, he had touched her. Her. His girlfriend. Jaehyun’s nostrils flared, standing up from his seat and pauses. Yebin had taken care of the situation immediately, stomping on the stranger’s foot and taking her away from him.

These were the rare moments Jaehyun could rely on Yebin. He continues to watch all three of them throw some cash onto their booth, grab their things, and make a beeline for the exit. He was sure she was going home, and he’ll check up on her in a minute, but he reckons he has something to deal with first as his eyes settled on the stranger that touched what had belonged to him.

Jaehyun stalks behind the stranger as he walks back to his car alone at the back of the vast, dimly lit parking lot. He pulls his hood over his head and lowers his cap. He recognizes Mingyu’s car and without thinking, grabs the nearest bat he could from the back and continues to walk up to the stranger.

Adrenaline was pumping through Jaehyun’s veins. He could only see red; he’s seething with anger as he raises the bat over his head. Before the stranger notices him, he strikes him; straight on the head. A pained cry leaves the man as he falls to the ground on his knees, clutching his head. The only coherent thought Jaehyun has in his head is the fact that this man had touched [Y/N] and that was enough to drive him to hit the man once, twice, thrice, not stopping even when blood is sprayed onto his face. He relents once the man is knocked unconscious.

Jaehyun’s breath is ragged, assessing what he had just done. Before anyone could catch him, he runs away with the baseball bat still in hand.

Dr. Jeon has removed his glasses and has been rubbing his eyes for a good minute after Jaehyun recounts his story. “Jaehyun.”

“He’s alive.” Jaehyun crosses his arms, retreating his attention back to the ceiling, already knowing where the warning mention of his name is going.

“Okay,” Dr. Jeon says, mostly to himself, “How did you feel about this? Let’s start with Ms. [Y/N] going out in a dress you deem ‘too short’ for her to wear out.”

“I’m not mad at her. Her friends forced her into it. [Y/N] is submissive; she gives into peer pressure most of the time.”

“So you were mad at her friends?”

Jaehyun half-heartedly shrugs his shoulders, “More annoyed. They got her into the mess, but they also saved her from it.”

“And this man,”

“Kim Iljung.” Jaehyun cuts in, covering his eyes with his unharmed hand.

“Oh, so you do know him?”

“No, his assault was broadcasted the next day on campus news.”

Dr. Jeon pauses, trying his best not to release another dismayed sigh. Not only did Jaehyun refer to this man’s assault like he hadn’t done it, he doesn’t sound remorseful at all. “Okay, this Mr. Kim Iljung… do you think he deserved to be punished like that? Were you satisfied with what had happened to him?”

Without another beat, Jaehyun nods. “Yes.”

The incident at the bar must have scared her off, Jaehyun assumes, because after classes, she goes straight home to either rest up or study. It’s been nine weeks, and yes, he knows, he counts each day he hasn’t sent her a text. He knew she was home, probably asleep, but he was out for a jog so he thought he would stop by - by her window, he means. Sneaking up the emergency stairs, he peers into her room and cusses under his breath, “Oh shit.”

She had music playing loud enough that it escapes through the closed window. She left the lights open for some reason while she lay on her bed, stripped naked, legs spread apart and fingers dancing on her clit.

Jaehyun inwardly groans, kneeling down to get a better view and hide himself in the shadows. He’s palming himself, biting down on his lower lip to prevent him from being too loud. When he sees her slip a finger in, he pushes the band of his shorts down and takes his cock out of the fly of his briefs. He’s already leaking; throbbing in his hold. For weeks, he relied only on his memories and her pictures to avoid getting blue balls.

He can explode with only a few pumps while watching her pleasure herself. Even better that she had moaned followed with a whimper of his name.

“Yes, baby that’s it.” He couldn’t stop himself from saying, furiously chasing after his high when he sees she added another finger. He can’t wait for her to come first, he’ll need to leave soon.

When her free hand goes over her breast to give it a tight grip with a soft cry with name; Jaehyun can feel his balls tightening. If only she could see him, coming undone from the sight of her masturbating with the thought of him. God, he loves her.

Unable to contain it any longer, Jaehyun comes; squirting his seed onto the window pane. A groan escapes him and he knows she must have heard it; noticing how she suddenly stops and looks around the room. He ducks away while tucking himself back into his shorts just as she looks to where he was and decides in a split second to jump down from the second floor and hide among the trash bins.

“Fuck.” He breathes, landing on his feet and ducking between the garbage cans. Looking up, he sees her poke her head out the window and looking down the emergency staircase. He holds his breath in, hoping he’s completely concealed in the shadows, releasing it only when she shivers a little and retreat back into the room. When he hears her slam the window close and draw the curtains, he waits a few more seconds before standing up, dusting himself off, and walking away as casual as possible.

“Do you think what you did was wrong? Or do you think it was okay because she’s your girlfriend?” Dr. Jeon puts his pen down for second to stretch his cramping hand.

“I don’t think anything’s wrong with it. Like you said, she’s my girlfriend.”

“But did you consider how she would have felt about it?”

Jaehyun curtly laughs, “[Y/N] is an exhibitionist. I’m sure she would have liked it.”

Dr. Jeon hums, “Even if she didn’t know you actually were?”

Jaehyun falls silent, resuming his stare off with the ceiling.

“If she would have liked it as you claim, why did you run off?”

“Because we were on break,” Jaehyun snaps, “That were the rules we set.”

“Rules you had long broken. I know these sessions are for you, Jaehyun, but if you really love Ms. [Y/N], you would consider how this would affect her own mental health in the long run.”

With a deep sigh, Jaehyun’s brows knit together, “I know.”

Finals were next week. Jaehyun found out from Johnny that [Y/N] was spending an all-nighter at the library. He had just finished reviewing for the first three exams he decided to take a night jog to destress; also excusing it to check up on her and probably watch over her if she were to walk back to her dorm in the dead of the night.

After a few laps around the university park, he makes a quick detour towards the library where he chances upon her leaving. It was about time to cool down so he slows down to a stride, stops his playlist, and follows her, leaving a good distance between the two of them.

What he didn’t expect was [Y/N] making her own detour; walking towards the gymnasium. Jaehyun is confused; it’s been hours since it was closed. How was she getting in?

He watches in amusement as she jumps the fence after a quick scan of her environment, causing him to duck behind a tree. Without hesitating, he follows after her once more. When he enters the gymnasium with the same door she had just unlocked and just barely catches her slipping into the hall that leads to the pool, he should have known where she was off to.

The sound of water sloshing and her soft moan echoes from the open door, bringing a little grin on Jaehyun’s face. He loved watching her swim. He could tell how happy she is when she swam. Before he knows it, he walks up until the edge of the pool; watching her swim down to the bottom and noting the bright red underwear set she had. He looks over to the side and sees her bag and discarded clothes.

“Oh my god! Jaehyun!” He whips his head towards her, “You scared me!”

It wasn’t his intention to be discovered, but he’s not going to let the chance of seeing her swim up close pass. He takes out his earphones and chuckles, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns at him, “How did you even know I was here?”

“I was out for a jog when I saw you jump the fence.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. When she blushes at the fact she was caught trespassing, Jaehyun squats down and smiles at her, “If anything, I should be asking you why you’re sneaking into the pool after closing time.”

Then he felt his breath hitch when she bites down on her lip, swimming over to where he stood, “The past weeks have been hard on me and I need to destress. Won’t you help me, Jae?”

He wants to say ‘yes,’ but he just stared her down, “I don’t think that’s how taking breaks from a relationship works, [Y/N].”

“We’ve made it this far, Jae. Can’t we cheat this break thing?”

Already have, babe.

“[Y/N]” He warns, although he can feel his resolve crumbling down already.

“Please, Jae. For me?” She unconsciously bats her lashes at him and he’s annoyed at himself at how he loves that.

Sighing, Jaehyun shrugs, “I don’t have my swimming trunks.”

She giggles at him, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in my underwear.”

He watches her a little bit more and he thinks she must have thought he was hesitating, because she reaches up and unzips his jacket for him. “Do you need help or are you going to let me play by myself?”

‘Not this time, baby.’ He thinks, smirking as he rises from the ground, discarding his jacket, and peeling his shirt away.

Jaehyun pretends he doesn’t see her practically salivating when she sees his body. He pushes his running shorts down and stands in his black boxers.

She’s biting down on your lips again when he kicks his shoes off and he smirks at her before diving head first into the water. When he resurfaced, he has her trapped on the other side of the pool after swimming underneath her; trying to chase her as she playfully swim away.

Jaehyun wipes away the excess water off his face while she wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“Hi.” She whispers, laughing when he flashes her a smile as she helps push his wet hair back.

“Hi.” He breathes, grabbing onto her thighs and guiding her legs around him. “So you needed to destress?”

She nods her head, sliding the hand that pushed his hair back down the side of his face. “How are you gonna help me?”

A number of options spill through his mind as he pulls her hips closer and grinds his erection against her crotch, eliciting a cute, silent gasp from her. “I can think of a few things.”

“C-care to show me?” She stutters and Jaehyun found it so endearing that he just had to kiss her for it.

The open kiss was messy and sloppy, and it was desperate, needy, and hungry. It was absolutely carnal, especially when she claws his bare back, looking for support as she slid down his body. Jaehyun pushes her against the side of the pool for leverage while his tongue invades her mouth, stroking her own as one of his hands roughly grabs her breasts, pushing it above the water’s surface.

He watches her throw her head back and rested it against the poolside as he clumsily thumbs her hardened nipples before leaning down to trail a sloppy kiss from her cheek, to her jaw, and stopped short on the side of her neck.

Jaehyun was losing it. He needed to have her then and there; but then a high pitched whistle hurls him back to reality.

“Shame on you two, fucking in a public pool.” Deep laughter follows afterwards.

He glares over to the entrance where a group of boys watched in amusement. He can feel [Y/N] shrink into him, obviously humiliated, and he covers her body from them.

“Do you mind?” He snaps at them, defensively putting his arms around her.

“Yeah, man, we do mind.” One of them hollers, “We wanted to swim in sperm-free water.”

“Jae, let’s just go.” She whispers to him, but he doesn’t react immediately; dark eyes glaring straight to the space behind her. His breathing had slowed and became heavy with explicit images of what he could possibly do to them, if only she wasn’t present.

“Jaehyun,” She cups his cheek and makes him face her, “Baby, let’s just go.”

It takes him another second to react. He closes his eyes, ignoring the violent thoughts, and kisses her forehead. “Okay.”

The guys didn’t pay attention to them anymore as they jumped into the far end of the pool. Jaehyun helped her get out of the pool and instinctively, he checked on the guys as he got out after her. Just as he expected, one of them was checking her out while she bent over to grab her things.

“Hey!” He shouts, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped checking my girlfriend out.”

“Can’t help it, man. No wonder you can’t keep your hands off of her.” And this asshole had the gall to look at her once more in an overly appreciative manner that made his blood boil like the incident at the bar.

Jaehyun balls his fists up, trying to get the rational side of him to calm himself down.

“Jaehyun, leave him alone. It’s not worth our time, come on.” She reminds him; her words and worried tone alone was enough to calm him, but the asshole just had to interrupt.

“Do her real good, man!”

He’s seeing red again, mind completely flooded with ways on how to beat this guy up, but she’s holding onto him with a vice grip and begging softly, “Baby, please, I just want to go home.”

And he finally relents to her request. Snatching the rest of their clothing up, they both head for the locker rooms to dry up and dress before leaving the premises.

“Let me walk you home.” Jaehyun pulls her to his side after seeing her shiver. After a while, he quietly says, “I’m sorry about those dickheads.”

“It’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the universe saying we shouldn’t be cheating on taking a break.” She huddles closer to him when a breeze blew by. “But I really miss you, Jae.”

This makes him happy. He kisses the top of her head, “I miss you, too. We have a week left. I think we can hold out until then.”

“Until then? Hold out, what exactly?” She teases, spinning on her heels as they arrive at the doorstep of her dorm.

He leans down and kisses the spot between her jaw and ear. “What could have happened back in the pool and so much more in the privacy of our homes.” He purposely whispers in a deep and low tone, tickling her ear and making her pull away with a short laugh.

“I can’t wait, then.” She flirtatiously says, and he leans down to kiss her lips. “Get home safely, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for not helping you destress.” Jaehyun slightly pouts at her and she smiles at him.

“I had this time with you.” She shrugs her shoulders, “It helped.”

“You can always play with yourself again.” He chuckles under his breath, and a little louder, says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She quietly responded.

He hopes she didn’t hear what he said as he walks away. Waiting for the sound of the dorm doors closing, he looks back to see she had already entered. She’s back in the safety of her home, but Jaehyun still feels unsettled with what had happened back at the pool.

Forget the serious case of blue balls; he’s furious; immensely angered by the guys - especially the one who basically undressed her with his eyes and wasn’t ashamed to show it. He pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s past midnight and the guys are probably still at the pool.

By the time Jaehyun returns to the gymnasium, the guys were all leaving; not even being sneaky about it. The typical troublemaking frat boys from the other side of the campus, Jaehyun thinks with a scoff. He memorizes their faces as they noisily went home before he does the same.

It takes Jaehyun a few days to find the guy who disrespected [Y/N]. He finds him smoking behind the bleachers of the soccer field all alone - perfect. He had requested for two bodyguards to accompany him just in case he had his friends with him.

The guy recognizes him when he approaches, a lazy grin growing on his face. “Hey, weren’t you that dude at the pool with the hot girl?”

Jaehyun’s fist are already balled up at his side. So the fucker remembers him because of [Y/N]? Oh, boy.

“What’s up, man? Did you need a light?” He cheers, taking his lighter out from his pocket and handed it to Jaehyun.

It disgusts him at how he thinks it’s okay to talk to him like they were long time friends.

He ignores the lighter and stares him down, “I don’t like how you looked at my girlfriend and made crude comments about her.”

The guy looks at him like he had said something stupid, snorting, “What? Aw, come on, man, don’t act like you didn’t finish elsewhere. Besides, your girlfriend? In that little red thing? I would have-”

He couldn’t finish his lewd statement because Jaehyun reels his arm back and swings a clean cut across this stranger’s face, sending him stumbling back to the floor.

“Don’t you fucking say shit about her.” Jaehyun growls, still trying to keep himself grounded and avoid sending the guy to the hospital - mostly because he’s had a good look at his face.

“Jongmin?! Yo, what’s going on here?” Four other guys show up but Jaehyun’s already taking two steps towards the closest one and throws a hard punch on their jaw.

Everything after that was a blur. The next thing he knew his bodyguards are restraining his arms and pulling him up from the ground where one of the guys were groaning, nose bleeding profusely. Jaehyun blinks at him, eyes darting to the other bodies scattered around, writhing in pain and covered in bruises.

His bodyguards are asking him if he’s okay; if he needs to go to the hospital or be escorted home. Jaehyun’s body is both numb but also buzzing with adrenaline. Did he do this by himself?

“I’m okay. Take care of them. Pay them to shut up.” He drags his thumb on the corner of his mouth where he felt something wet, pulling away to see dark red smudged across his finger.

“You weren’t aware of your actions while you were performing them?” Dr. Jeon repeats, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

Jaehyun shakes his head, sipping from the tea he requested before starting the session. “Like I blacked out.”

Dr. Jeon hums once again, reading over what he had jotted down. “So like with what had happened to Mr. Iljung, you believe they deserved what had happened to them?”

“Yes.”

“And you were satisfied with it?”

“Of course.”

“Despite the injury your received?” Dr. Jeon gestures to his hand and Jaehyun dryly laughs at him.

“I didn’t get this from them.”

This was the last day of finals for everyone. This was the day Jaehyun can finally have her back in his arms. She should be done with her last exam already while he still had one more to take. Ten told him that everyone was going to celebrate at the mall, so Jaehyun said he’d catch up once he finishes his exam. But he couldn’t wait at all. He rarely flexes his wealth, but if it meant being with her again, he’d do it in an instant.

His professor wasn’t so keen about letting him take the exam 30 minutes earlier; but with the reasoning that it’s better than having him taken later on that would be more suspicious and a few thousand bills slipped in, he took the exam half an hour earlier than his classmates and finished just before any of them come inside the room.

He’s buzzing with excitement, fidgeting in his seat as he had a chauffeur drive him to the mall instead of hailing a cab to save time. She must be feeling the same way, waiting for him to come to her and end the stupid break.

But when he finds her enjoying herself, laughing boisterously and poking fun at Doyoung, he was… dismayed. He knows they go way back and is very aware of Doyoung’s sexual orientation, yet jealousy nipped at him. He sees her eyes fluttering over at him and for some reason, he dodges out of view when she looks away.

Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He knows there’s no reason for him to feel this way. Maybe it’s just excitement from being able to be with her. He goes to the men’s bathroom to collect his thoughts before returning to where she was.

When he sees her and the rest walking towards a fast food joint, he cheers himself up, mischievously creeping up behind her and Doyoung, who had his arm around her shoulders, with intentions to scare her, but then he hears:

“You’re lucky I love you-”

And something came over Jaehyun that just took control of his entire being.

He grabs Doyoung by his shoulder and punches him in the face strong enough to push him to the floor, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Keeping her warm for me?”

“Dude, what the hell?!” Doyoung scrambles onto his feet with Ten’s help.

He tries to step forward but [Y/N] blocks him, “Jae, what is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me? I finished my exam early and rushed here to see you, but I see him,” He juts his chin towards Doyoung, “With his arm around you.”

“What’s happening here?” A mall security guard approached your group.

“A misunderstanding, nothing we can’t handle ourselves. Sorry for the trouble.” She bows her head at him and grab Jaehyun’s arm. “Can we talk outside?”

He casts a glare at Doyoung before letting her pull him out. On the way to the exit, Jaehyun recognizes the group of boys he ‘talked’ to last week. They were laughing to themselves, only to abruptly stop when they see him and immediately bow their heads and steer clear from his path. Jaehyun could feel the power coursing through his veins at the sight.

[Y/N] spins around to face him once they were both in the parking lot, “Do you want to explain yourself for what you did back there?”

Jaehyun frowns at her; realizing the weight of his outburst, “He had his arm around you.”

“I - Jae! He is Doyoung. Kim Doyoung. My best friend since pre-school. My best friend who is asexual. You know that!”

“He can’t be asexual forever. For all we know, he’s already got a crush on you!”

She looks exasperated, “Why are you being jealous of him? He’s my best friend and will always just be my best friend.”

“He just said he loves you!”

“And I love him back, as in, platonically, which I think is what he meant!” She groans in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Jaehyun scowls at her. Can’t she see what the reason behind why he did that? “I’m being protective of my girlfriend!”

She purses her lips and stares him down, “Your girlfriend that you’re technically on a break with.”

“What?” His feels his body tense up. Finals are over, therefore the break is over, too.

“Maybe we should extend the break for a week or two.” She began to step back, but he follows.

“What?” Jaehyun repeats, eyes wide and full of worry, “Why?”

“Because, Jae,” He flinches at her tone, “I need time to get over what you just did inside to my best friend and you need time to contemplate over your actions and apologize to Doyoung.”

“(Y/N).” He whines. This can’t be happening.

“Jaehyun, please.” She crossed her arms over her chest, defensively, and this stops him in his tracks; dejectedly looking at her with pleading eyes, hoping it wavers her but she just shook her head with regret and turned away, walking to the mall front.

Jaehyun watches her, heart racing so fast and hard that he feels like he’s having a heart attack. She’s walking away from him. On her own volition. Angry. At him. He wants to be mad, too. Not at her. Not at Doyoung, but at himself. This isn’t how he’d imagine ending the break to be like. He thought he could take her out on a date, not extend the stupid thing one week longer all because he couldn’t stop himself.

There’s nothing he could do right now, except fix his mess with Doyoung. He had to let her cool off. He sees her get in a car that he presumes to be an Uber and now he feels twice as bad that he spoiled her celebration with her friends.

Jaehyun returns inside and finds Doyoung coming from the men’s bathroom. “Doyoung!”

Doyoung looks at him and immediately looks both annoyed and apprehensive as he walks up to him.

“Are you okay?”

“A little sore, but I’m not bleeding or feel like my nose is broken.”

Jaehyun sighs, “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Doyoung shifts his weight to one leg and crosses his arms, “It’s not a secret you’re obsessed with [Y/N], Jaehyun. I get that you’re possessive of her and all that, but you need to remember she’s my best friend. She’s practically a sister to me.”

“I know. I know.” He groans, massaging his temples. “I just really don’t know what came over. Look, you’re the only other guy I trust [Y/N] with. I’m more at ease when I know she’s out partying with you guys when you’re around - don’t tell Ten, I won’t hear the end of it.”

This makes Doyoung chuckle, “I feel the same way. I mean, you can get out of hand… but I think she’s safer with you than with anybody else.”

“That means a lot to me, Doyoung.” Jaehyun weakly smiles at him, “I’m really sorry again. I can take you to the hospital and pay for everything.”

“I swear, I’m okay. Let’s just have dinner with the rest.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll skip this time. [Y/N] went home already and I don’t feel good about upsetting her.”

He offers him a sympathetic smile, “Don’t stress about it. Let her cool down for a day or two and the whole thing will blow over sooner than you think.”

Jaehyun believed Doyoung, but it’s been three days and not a single peep from her. She was probably holding onto her word about extending the break for a whole, full week, but Jaehyun was at his wit’s end. He distracted himself by going to the gym, taking multiple jogs, or just simply locking himself up his room and waiting for some online activity from her.

He needed to do something.

After an afternoon run, Jaehyun picks up a cheap, old prepaid phone and returns home to shower. He pulls on a shirt and some ripped jeans, and sits on his bed while punching in her phone number on the old phone. He hesitates pressing the faded green phone icon button on the small device; he knows this is going to traumatize her. But what else can he do? He can’t just wait anymore.

He flips the phone close and tucks it into his pocket. Johnny isn’t sleeping here tonight, so Jaehyun doesn’t have to be worried about looking suspicious as he sneaks in and out of their dorm. Before he leaves, he grabs a hoodie and a mask.

It was past 8 when Jaehyun arrives at her dorm; it was dark already thanks to the sky being covered with thick clouds and the sidewalks barely illuminated by the street lamps. Her room had no light in it and Jaehyun finds it odd, but decides against walking up the emergency stairs. He takes the old phone out of his pocket and dials her number, putting the device to his ear.

It rings thrice before she picks up, her groggy voice told Jaehyun she was merely asleep. “Hello?”

Jaehyun wants to talk to her, but he keeps quiet; focusing on the background noise at her end. He hears the volume of the television soften and the distinct squeak of her couch as he assumes she was sitting up from it.

“Hello? Who is this?” She asks again, yet he still doesn’t say anything as he carefully walks up to the front of the dorm where the window of her living room was. He can make out her figure by the window; watching her walk away from it after she had hung up on him.

He’s hidden by tall shrubs as he tries to guess what she was doing inside. She didn’t open the living room lights, but the soft glow emanating from the window tells him she was in the kitchen. His own phone vibrates and he quickly checks it, seeing that she was online and liking posts and photos of their friends. He quietly monitors her activity until he sees her reacting to Taeyong’s photo.

Taeyong was his friend. He introduced them to each other and even he can’t deny how good looking the boy was. He’d normally let it pass, but she specifically used the ‘heart eyes’ react button and she only ever use that on his posts for her and never with anybody else. Jealousy is creeping back over him, momentarily disrupted by the distinct sound of Minkyung and Yebin talking loudly as they approach their dorm.

Jaehyun ducks down and waits for them to enter the building before he redials her number, pulling the hood of his jacket until it shadowed his face and putting his mask on to cover half of his face. He’s angry; he doesn’t mean to be, but it’s the only thing he can feel at the moment.

She sounded aggravated when she picked his call up, “Hello? Hello? This better not be a prank call.”

He wanted to laugh at how cute she was trying to be intimidating. He doesn’t try to hide his breathing this time, letting it barely fill the silence of his end of the call.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Jaehyun looks up and he sees her… staring at him.

Well, hello there.

He lets out a soft heave and ends the call when she starts screaming.

He quickly fleas the scene, especially hearing her roommates’ concerned shouts. As he runs away, he takes out the battery of the old phone and tosses it in the bushes when he was a good five blocks away. When he’s back at home, he’s experiencing a flurry of emotions; he’s worried about her, first and foremost, he had never heard her scream like that before. He also felt disgusted at himself for scaring her. He feels a bit antsy because what if someone had seen him? But among these, he doesn’t regret what he had done. It felt like the only way - to him, at least - for her to go back to him.

Jaehyun, like most nights, couldn’t sleep at all; but when he does, it only lasted three hours. He was fully awake by 10AM because he receives a text from Johnny asking if he wanted food. Doyoung had graciously called him thrice last night, but didn’t pick up to make it seem like he slept early and responded to his messages in faux panic when he woke up.

Johnny’s home by 11 and Jaehyun is waiting for her to text him on the couch.

“Flowers for you, good sir.” Johnny fakes an English accent as he hands the bouquet Jaehyun requested to him. “And a nice, warm continental breakfast for brunch.”

He helps him prepare their food on the coffee table, promising to pay him for the flowers.

“Hey, I heard from Ten about [Y/N]. Is she okay?” Johnny slides him the tupperware of pancakes.

“I don’t know. Doyoung says she is and her roommates are taking care of her.” Jaehyun lets out a sigh to convince Johnny how worried he was. “I wish I hadn’t slept early. I would have gone to her immediately if I knew what had happened.”

Johnny nods, “At least she wasn’t physically harmed.”

“I hope they find that fucker.” He hopes the fuck not.

After eating, Jaehyun excuses himself to get ready to visit her. In the privacy of his room, he starts to get excited. There’s a certain way he wishes the scenarios turns out. He likes to imagine that she’ll run up to him and realize how much safer she is with him. He’ll finally get to kiss her and she’ll let him take over -

Damn it.

He didn’t think he was that excited, but it’s nothing he can’t take care of. So he stands in front of her picture and takes care of himself, promising to himself that he’ll clean it up once he gets back from your place.

He’s in the shower afterwards, generously lathering himself and scrubbing away the sins he committed against her. He wants to be quick, but he also wants to take his time to prepare for her - because she would take all these extra steps for him when they would meet, why shouldn’t he do the same? He’s so excited to see her that he thinks he hears her calling out to him from his bedroom.

After he finally rinses off and dries his hair, he throws on a loose shirt and boxer shorts on. He leaves his towel over his head while he brushes his teeth and uses it to wipe his lips after spitting. As he exits his bathroom, he stops in his tracks.

Was he excited enough to hallucinate? But he was sure that was her, turned away from him in the middle of his room.

“[Y/N]?”

She gasps, spinning around to face him. He caught the briefest flash of fear in her eyes and he realizes that evidences of last night were present all around the room. He was ready to explain himself, but then she’s choking out a sob and running towards him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He automatically wraps his arms around her, smoothing her hair down. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

He holds her tight, letting her cry out the remaining fear from the previous night; feeling just a tiny but guilty while placing kisses on her head and rubbing her back.

“Oh god,” She breathes in deeply, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” He pulls away, tilting her face towards him. “How are you? Did you get any sleep? If I found out any sooner, I would have gone over to you.”

She shakes her head, “I couldn’t sleep properly, even though Yebin and Minkyung stayed with me.”

Doyoung must haven’t told her he’s been updating him about how she was. “Have you eaten at least? Let me cook something for you to eat.”

“I-I… Don’t leave me here.”

Jaehyun offers her a soft smile, “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around. But if you really don’t want to stay in my room, you can come with me to the kitchen.”

He leads her to the kitchen by the hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. He makes small talk with her to get her mind off about last night, listening intently at her response while he fries some eggs and slices of pork. It didn’t take too long for him to serve it to her with some reheated rice from last night.

“Eat up, baby girl.”

“Baby girl?” She smirks, “Should I call you daddy, then?”

Jaehyun laughs, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Be careful what you wish for.” He whispers into her ear, trying to sound seductive but ends up chuckling.

He watches her eat and from time to time, letting her feed him some. His mind is daydreaming all of a sudden; this is what he wants to see in the future: feeding her meals in her shared home, keeping her safe and happy, being hers and vice versa.

“What are your plans after graduation?” He asks out of the blue.

“My plans?” She repeats after swallowing.

He nods, waiting for her to answer.

“Get a job?” She shrugs, “I haven’t thought about that at all, actually.”

“How about moving into a new apartment?”

She pauses for a moment, “I don’t know if I can afford it, but my contract for my apartment right now ends two months after graduation so I should probably look into it.”

“Well,” Jaehyun massages his nape and avoids her gaze; he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly nervous about asking, “My parents graduation gift for me is my own apartment room in downtown Seoul. I was wondering if, you know, you’d want to move in with me.”

She stares at him and he stares back, waiting. “Will your parents be okay with that? I mean, I thought you and Johnny would still be sharing an apartment.”

“He and Ten have their own plans, besides, I’m not sharing a bed with Johnny.” That makes her giggle and he lets out a short chuckle of his own, “And about my parents… they love you like their own daughter. They wouldn’t mind. I’m willing to bet they’re hoping for grandchildren in two years.”

“Woah there, big boy.” She laughs, “How about we take baby steps instead of hoping of seeing our baby take their first ones, huh?”

“Tell that to my parents.” He grumbles like a child and sees her reaching up to pinch his cheeks. His parents have always been vocal about wanting her to be the mother of their grandchildren; if only he knew how much he wishes that, too.

“Anyways, I’d love to.”

He blinks at her, breaking out of his reverie “Hm?”

“I’d love to move in with you.”

It takes a second for Jaehyun to grin at your answer and he swears it’s stretching his cheeks out too much that it almost hurts, “Really?”

She giggles at his reaction, biting down on her lower lip while she nods. “Yes, really.”

He pulls her in for multiple kisses, making her laugh in between each one. He kisses her longer and he could feel her body reacting to him already. His tongue grazes her lips and she instantly grants him access into her mouth, moaning at the sensation of his tongue sliding against hers.

His hands snake onto her thighs, roughly massaging them before pulling her tightly against his body. She clings onto him; mouths undetached as he hauls her up and takes her back to the bedroom.

Jaehyun sets her down on his bed with utmost care like she was a one of a kind piece of fine china. He pulls away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between their lips before it snaps as he straightened himself to remove his shirt.

He’s been waiting for this for too long.

“Oh, god.” She groans, “I can’t believe I lasted 4 months.” She palms him over his boxers with one hand while the other travelled upwards, fingers dancing across the expanse of the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest. Before she can slip her hands into his shorts, he grabs both of her wrists.

“I still owe you a destresser.” Jaehyun reminds her with a matching smirk.

She lets him undress her, his eyes darting to every newly exposed skin and dropping each of clothing articles on the floor by his feet. When she’s finally stripped off of all her clothes and underwear, he gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the bed. With a light tap on her thighs, her legs part to make room for him and it pleases him so much at how receptive she is to him.

He removes his boxers and kneels on the bed, stroking himself as he eyes her pussy. He leans down and kisses her, “I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”

“Don’t hold back.” She challenged and he playfully scoffs at her.

“When have I ever held back?”

Before she could answer, Jaehyun dips a finger into her core. A shaky sigh escapes her as he languidly moves his finger around, feeling her inner walls and how wet she was.

“Show me how much you missed me first.” He quietly says, almost begging, “Use my hand.”

She was whimpering softly while she covered his hand with her own, grinding her clit into his palm. Her fingers tapped onto his middle finger and he understood what she wanted, inserting it along with his pointer finger. He dragged them against her inner walls that caused her to softly moan.

God, she was so hot.

She lifted her hips up, hoping to get some more leverage but he flexes his middle finger and it brushes against something spongy inside her, making her gasp and dropping her weight back down to the bed.

‘Don’t worry, baby,’ Jaehyun thinks, ‘I’ll take care of you.’

With no warning, he pumps his fingers into her, curling them inside before pulling out. He knows how much she loves that and he can feel her body already starting to convulse. He continued his actions, going harder and faster, ignoring the signs of her oncoming orgasm.

She lets out a cry, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands as her body violently shook.

Not wasting any time, Jaehyun takes whatever essence of her climax his fingers collected and smears it over his cock, giving it a few more pumps before he slides it in her.

Her moan may or may not have been too loud for the neighbors to hear, but he didn’t give a fuck. His baby wants to be loud because of him and only him, then let them send noise complaints. Despite being sensitive and still high from her orgasm, he watches her trying to spread her thighs further for him.

Her pussy is sucking him in as he bottoms out in her and it’s driving him crazy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight. You feel amazing.” He mumbles before he begins to thrust, slow and deep. He leans over and kisses her neck, alternating between sucking and licking every patch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“I’m going to mark you so other guys wouldn’t think twice about hitting on you, okay?” He thrusts a little too hard to punctuate his question and she groans in response.

“Yes, yes,” She gasps, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “I’m yours.”

He lets out an animalistic growl he didn’t know he could make, hips moving more erratically with her words. “Say that again.”

“I’m yours.” She chants, almost like a prayer.

With every repetition of her invocation, Jaehyun snaps his hips into her, gaining more speed and power. She’s all he’s ever wanted and here she is offering herself to him, willingly admitting herself to him. It’s enough to make him cum but he holds out for her.

Her body thrashed against him as he gave her a second orgasm for the night. He helps her ride it out, keeping her hips still as he shallowly pushed into Her. She clenched around him and he moans at the sensation.

“Shit, that feels so good, baby.” He rasps, throwing his head back. Too good.

“Won’t you come?” She asked with a pout.

If she only knew the power she held on him; he could explode any second now.

Miraculously, he somehow controls himself as he slows his thrusts and studies the state of her body; still shivering from her high, how his kisses on her neck have bloomed into a bouquet of purple flowers, how her breasts rose with every haggard breath. He takes one into his hand, softly palming it. “I’m getting there.”

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Her pouty lips were so tempting that it gave him an idea.

He pulls out all of a sudden and crawls until his knees are on either side of her chest. “Open up.”

Obediently, she parts her lips and sticks her tongue out a little.

He groans; she looked so innocent but lewd at the same time. Taking his cock into his hand and pumping as fast as he can, he places the tip on her tongue when beads of pre-cum ooze out.

She licks it up immediately, as if to coax him to ejaculate by running her tongue on the underside of his cock’s head.

Jaehyun is hissing out curses one after the other as he finally found the final push he needed to come. White, hot liquid shoots into her mouth and amidst of her swallowing it, the remaining cum splashes onto her cupid’s bow, cheek, and chin. He cries out in anguish when she pushes herself up to suck him dry with hollowed cheeks. As she falls back to bed, one last spurt escapes him and hits her brow.

Seeing it dribble down her eyelid, he uses his thumb to swipe it off. He tried to clean it on his sheets, but she grabs hold of his wrist and guides it to her mouth, collecting the salty substance with her tongue.

“Jesus christ, [Y/N].” Jaehyun exhales, feeling his cock twitch at the salacious scene and how her tongue swirled around his finger.

“I just missed how you tasted.” She giggles, kissing his thumb. “Still delicious.”

He combs her sweat-slicked hair and chuckles, “Well, I’m sure you taste sweeter.”

She juts out her lower lip at him, feigning innocence, “How would you know? You haven’t tasted me in months.”

“Oh?” His eyes glaze over once again, “Is that a challenge?”

“Baby,” She cooed, “It’s an invitation.”

She’s going to be the death of him, he thinks as he smirks at her. “Don’t mind if I do, then.” He trails a kiss from between her breasts down to her navel. His tongue licks her clit, lightly lapping up her juices as he moves lower. He hears her moan and feels her body reacting; encouraging him to keep going. He uses a hand to spread her lips apart and probes her entrance in slow, sensual figures of eights with his tongue.

But then he realizes that she had stopped responding to his actions, so he pulls away and looks at her. She was staring off to the side and his gaze follows hers and once he spots what had grabbed her attention, he hovers above her and places a hand on either side of her head.

“Look at me.” He commands.

“You couldn’t have…” She murmurs, looking back at you with concerned eyes.

There’s no way out of this. There’s clearly blood on that bat he keeps forgetting to dispose of. He had to explain himself.

“He touched you.” He simply states, devoid of any emotion.

“Jaehyun!” She reprimands, but he cuts her off.

“He disrespected you, [Y/N]. I wasn’t going to let that pass by!”

“How did you even know I was the bar? Were you following me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe!”

She pushes him off, scooting off the bed and picking out her clothes from the floor. “Well, I was! Yebin and Minkyung were there with me. We left before he could do anything else. You didn’t have to beat him up with a bat! Jesus christ! Jae! You’re wanted by campus police.”

“He got what he deserved, [Y/N].” He coolly shrugs his shoulders, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on while watching her dress.

“And what about those guys from the pool?” She suddenly looks back at him, accusingly.

“I only meant to go after the one who couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Jaehyun admits, “But his friends came looking for him, so I had to deal with them as well.”

“You took them by your--” She shuts her eyes in frustration and disbelief.

‘Trust me, love, I didn’t think I could do it by myself’ He inwardly scoffs, staring at her intently, ‘But I did, for you.’

Suddenly, she’s staring at him with an unreadable expression. Her gaze shifts to his study table where he left his mask and burner phone on. “...w-were you the guy last night?”

Just admit it all, Jung.

“Yes. I was outside your window, too, when you masturbated.”

She gapes at him with horrified astonishment, crying, “Why?! You scared me shitless!”

“That was the point.” He almost rolled his eyes at her.

Her jaw drops, unable to formulate a proper response, nevertheless, he continues to explain himself.

“I had to scare you back to me.”

“What?!”

“I was losing you.” His voice finally breaks from the monotony and raises an octave higher. “You asked for an extension when I was at my limit. I missed you!”

“I was mad! You punched my best friend, Jaehyun! I had the right to be! And it didn't mean you were losing me. I just needed time to cool down!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Never, in the four years, they have spent together did they argue like this. “I can’t do this.”

Jaehyun’s ears start to ring at her words.

She tries to leave but he blocks her path.

“Can’t do what?” His voice had dropped, glaring her down.

She’s visibly taken aback from his demeanor, hindering her to respond to him, so he asks again in a raised voice.

“Can’t do what, [Y/N]?!”

“Let me go, Jae. I need to go.”

“Go where? Who are you running off to, huh? Doyoung? Taeyong?”

“Why are you dragging Taeyong into this?”

Jaehyun scowls, “I saw you giving his picture a heart eyes react.”

“Oh my god!” She shouts, “Do you hear yourself right now? So I liked his new photo because I thought his new hairstyle looked good. He’s our friend, remember? Jaehyun, please, let me leave.”

“And what? Extend our break even more? I don’t think so.” He reaches for her hand, but she avoids him. “[Y/N].”

“You’re honestly scaring me right now.” She backs away until she’s pressed up against the wall. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because I love you, [Y/N],” He steps forward, doing his very best to control himself at the moment, “Everything I do is for you. I have to protect you. If you could only see how other guys look at you, how they would undress you with their eyes - I, I can’t let them disrespect you like that. They need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“And if you really, really do love me, Jae,” Her eyes begin to tear up, “You would let me leave.”

What? Leave?

“No. W-why?” His eyebrows scrunched up in frustration “Do you want to break up?”

She’s stumbling over her words, “I’m really scared right now, Jaehyun. Just please give me time to think--”

“Answer me!” He yelled, making her flinch in her spot. The last thread that kept him sane had snapped. He traps her against the wall, “Are you thinking about breaking up with me?”

“I don’t feel safe with you right now.” She breathes.

Her words were barely audible but they rang like sirens in Jaehyun’s ears. His head keeps repeating it over and over again: she’s not safe with you.

His vision bleeds red and he already knows what’s going to happen so he steps away from her, his subconsciousness reminding him to keep her out of harm’s way. He needed to hit something and it definitely won’t be her. His eyes get wet and blurry as they searched around the room for something, and they fell on the full length mirror attached to the bathroom door. Huffing, he takes two large steps towards it and swings as hard as he can.

He thinks he hears her screams as his fist connected to the mirror, creating a large, cracked web onto it. He lets the pain throb from his knuckles, before he repeatedly punches the mirror, over and over again; smashing chunks of the glass and sending them crashing to the floor.

“Jae, stop!” He thinks she yelled that to him, but he’s unsure. He just wants to let it out.

But he feels her grabbing his arms and stopping him, “Jaehyun!”

“Go away! I don’t want to hurt you,” He spares her a tormented glance. His cheeks feel wet; he didn’t even know he was crying. “I can’t hurt you, so let me--”

He attempts to throw another punch, but she holds him back.

Both of them struggled with one another, until he nudges her away and faces her, “You hate me!” He cries.

She shakes her head in denial, but he doesn’t believe you so repeats himself.

“You hate me.”

“I never said that.” She squeaked, staring into his eyes.

“You wanted to break up.” Jaehyun grabs a fistful of his hair, shutting his eyes as tightly as he can. The voices in his head chanted his words back at him.

“I never said that, either.” He hears her whisper.

He feels you touch his face and he flinches away it at first, snapping his eyes wide open like an injured beast being cornered, but the way she looked at him made him drop his defenses.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, sobbing like a little boy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He repeats his apology over and over until he feels her pull him down, letting his head rest on the crook of her neck. “I can’t lose you, [Y/N]. I can’t. I just wanted to protect you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me and you won’t.” She runs one of her hands down his back while the other combed through his hair.

He pulls away, tears still flowing down his cheeks, “You’re not leaving me?”

She searches for something in his eyes, before slowly cocking her head and offering him an unsure smile as he lightheartedly points out: “I mean, I have to go home sooner or later. But I can spend the night if you want to.”

“I want you to.” He mumbles and she smiles up at him.

“Then I’ll stay the night.” She pulls him down until his forehead was touching hers. Playing with the short hairs on his nape, she whispers onto his lips, “I love you.”

He’s unsure if he should believe her, but casts his doubt away. He smiles back at her, “I love you, too.”

“Let’s get your hand cleaned up and wrapped, okay?” She kisses his cheek and leads him out the room, careful not to step on any glass shards.

As she knelt in front of him, trying not to vomit at the sight of his broken and bloody hand while fishing out the little shards of glass with a pair of tweezers, Jaehyun’s finally coming into terms the gravity of his condition.

Maybe she truly was unsafe with him; but why didn’t she run away when he had given her the chance to? He had given her a glimpse of the monster inside him, yet instead of fleeing, she stays to tame and satiate him. An immense of wave of love overcomes him; there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he wants her and only her for the rest of his life.

Jaehyun jerks his hand back when she attempts to remove some chunks of glass shards embedded too deep onto his knuckles with tweezers. “Ow!”

“You were literally punching the mirror 30 minutes ago! Give me your hand!” She hisses, pulling his hand back and resting it on top of the blood-stained towel on his lap.

He winced every now and then, biting his tongue when it had hurt a tad too much for him to handle.

“I think I got them all out.” She says after a while, inspecting it under the torchlight of her phone, “Uh, yeah, okay. Go wash it with warm water and come back here.”

Jaehyun quietly obeys, standing up from his seat and taking the bowl of glass shards with him.

After doing what he’s been told, he disposes of the glass shards and bloody towel. Returning to his seat, he dries his hand with a new towel.

She tends to his wound once more, dabbing it with disinfectant. “Jae, we need to talk about what happened.”

“I know.” He solemnly whispers; he had hoped this could easily blow over without the need to discuss it, but he doubts you would ever forget what had happened. “I’m… not okay.”

She patiently waits for him to continue, showing him she’s confused by his statement; looking up at him briefly before taking a roll of gauze to wrap his hand with.

“I…” He licks his lips, “I’m diagnosed with this mental disorder…”

“And how is your relationship now after you told her about your disorder?”

Jaehyun glances down at his injury; she had rebandaged it again for him today, even though he could have had a professional do it. It was a simple act of love for him. “Like it never happened.”

“Oh, then she understands then? That’s good-”

“But,” Jaehyun sits up, hunching forward and resting his forearms on his thighs to support his weight, his fingers just loosely woven together in front of him. He blankly stares at the small altar his doctor had in his office. He was a very religious man, but he oddly never pushed religion onto him during their sessions. “She seems more… careful.”

“I see.” Dr. Jeon massages his chin, “I would say it’s normal. She’s still processing it; she’ll eventually understand.”

“But when she understands, will she stay?”

His doctor frowns at him, “I can’t answer for Ms. [Y/N], Jaehyun. I personally believe you should just tell her everything; you’re founding your relationship on-”

“Lies?” He finishes for him, “I don’t like that word. Let’s call it… an altered fact. She’ll leave me if she finds out. I can tell her more details about my disorder, but anything more? I just know… she’ll leave me.”

“What makes you think-”

Jaehyun cuts him off with a leer and curt laugh, “I know she will, doctor. Don’t pretend she won’t. You know what I’ve done; how I spent years devoting myself to her like how you are with your God. You know how I felt alone and empty growing up; but then I met her; and I felt something beyond my comprehension. Like how Moses discovered the burning bush on Mount Sinai or how a dove brought back an olive branch to Noah. She had single-handedly completed me and now she’s mine. She said it herself; my goddess claimed herself to be mine. It’s only right and just I protect her in return. Isn’t that what you do? When someone disrespects your God, don’t you defend him?”

Dr. Jeon wearily watches him, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard or seen before. Maybe that’s why he’s tempted to press one of the many panic buttons hidden around the room as discreet as he can. He knows he’ll regret it if he does it again - the Jungs can be quite unforgiving when they’re falsely accused of becoming a threat. It was paranoia and panic that pushed the button last time that brought in heavy set personnel to escort Jaehyun out with a nurse armed with a tranquilizer just in case. Jaehyun’s father was not pleased, almost threatening to terminate their exclusive contract. However, the young man in front of him wasn’t the same person that entered half an hour ago.

“I am going to do everything in my power to keep it that way - to keep her mine - and nothing,” Jaehyun stresses, “Nothing is going to stop me.”

“And if anybody gets in the way,” he clenches both his fists so tightly that blood starts to emerge from his bandages. Dr. Jeon reaches out to stop him, but Jaehyun separates his hands and stares at his palms, “I’ll kill them with my bare hands.”

a/n: yes the Jung’s therapist is SVT Wonwoo’s brother lol also i purposefully left out Jaehyun’s actual disorder out so I can discuss it in later chapters of Devoted 2 (during that joint therapy session) I’m sorry if it got a little too dark, but I promise the plot is better like this.

I hope you guys liked this! uwu

#nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios

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ft-dads-au · 4 years

Text

Hang In There

I Take Pride in What I Am 2020 Prompt: Beginnings Pairing(s): Master Bob & Weisslogia

A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | FF.Net

Summary: Bob Aileron has moved rooms more times than he'd care to remember, cast aside by those who refuse to see past his eccentric exterior. Today he'll meet his new roommate, and he desperately hopes to make a friend.

November 12, 1973

Robert Aileron sat at a table at his favorite coffee shop on campus. His suitcase lay on the ground next to him, and he frowned at it in distaste, hating all the things it reminded him of. In some ways, he mused, it was a visual representation of the current state of his soul.

Battered. Torn. Ugly bits exposed for everyone to see.

Every single time he dug it out from underneath his bed, it signaled a defeat of some kind, starting when his father had sent him to that godforsaken place. The things he had endured in the name of pleasing a God that Bob was pretty sure had abandoned him a long time ago had been both painful and humiliating. Just thinking about it was enough to make him shudder.

None of them had changed a single thing inside him. All it had managed was to make him fear what new terrors would be unleashed upon him once his father realized their best efforts had done nothing to turn him into the kind of son he desired.

As soon as he was allowed to return home, Bob had started walking and never looked back, dragging that stupid suitcase through town after town, encounter after encounter, doing anything that would get him money to keep going.

He’d ended up in Magnolia, arguably one of the more liberal towns in Fiore beside Crocus, hoping that things would be different for him there.

But it turned out being more liberal didn’t mean shit, it was just more of the same. The ridicule, the threats, the attacks that he’d experienced in Clover? Happened there as well.

So Bob decided that if no one would embrace him as he was, he would just have to embrace himself. He lived on the streets most of that first summer, earning enough money in dark alleys to rent a dank room the size of a closet.

He graduated high school, made it through four years of college, and now he was in medical school, trying very hard not to dwell on the things he’d had to do to get there. Or on the fact that no matter how educated the people he met were, the way they responded to him never changed.

Which is why he was getting ready to meet yet another roommate. Each time he was forced out of his room and into another for reasons that were never quite made clear to him, the housing advisor assured him that this one would be the perfect one for him. Despite this, he’d lost track of how many times he’d switched rooms since he’d started medical school the previous year.

He’d hoped this year would be different, but this was already his third room assignment in as many months. Was it too much to ask that for once he’d find someone who could see past his little quirks? It was ridiculous in his opinion, these people were training to be doctors for fuck’s sake.

He sighed into his coffee. Whatever, he’d tried changing in the past, adapting to what some of these people’s expectations had been, but not only had it made him miserable, it hadn’t really made any difference whatsoever, so why bother?

The truth was Bob was tired, beaten down from the constant barrage of insults and rejection. Every single one had chewed off a piece of his soul, and just like his poor suitcase, he was starting to fall apart. He really wasn’t sure how much more he could take before there wouldn’t be anything left.

Besides, why should he have to change? He was fabulous just the way he was. Just a bit ahead of his time, that’s all.

He grinned for a moment, allowing that thought to seep in as he eyed his reflection in the window. That blush he’d picked out this morning matched the bright pink of his sweater perfectly, and his mascara was on point.

He didn’t always primp this much, but he figured if this guy wasn’t going to work out, he might as well know from the beginning. He studied the slip of paper where the housing advisor had scribbled down the location of his new room, Fairy Hills, as well as the name of his new roommate, Weisslogia Eucliffe.

Fairy Hills was one of the quieter dorms on campus, but he could live with that. It would be useful for studying, and he tended to go out for his other interests.

On a whim, he decided to buy some muffins to bring along as a gesture of good faith. It probably wouldn’t make any difference, but at the very least, he could stress eat them later.

Loaded up with his backpack, suitcase, and a box of muffins, he made his way to Fairy Hills, trying his hardest to ignore the tiny flame of hope in his heart that refused to be doused, no matter how many times he was rejected.

He entered the building hoping for an elevator as his room was on the third floor, and he wasn’t looking forward to lugging all his shit up the stairs. The lobby was quiet, which wasn’t all that surprising as classes were still in session. He was happy to see an elevator and immediately rode it up to his floor. He got off, looking at the numbers on the doors as he searched for his room. Bob could feel his hands getting sweatier the closer he got to room 302.

Finally arriving in front of it, he put his suitcase down and fumbled in his pocket for the key. He knocked twice before opening the door, finding the room empty, although one side was clearly occupied.

He moved to what would be his side of the room and dropped his suitcase on top of the mattress, stopping a moment to examine what he could see of his roommate’s belongings and chuckling to himself.

There were no personal belongings anywhere, no family pictures or knickknacks of any kind. Instead, textbooks and notebooks were neatly organized on the desk’s shelf, along with a dictionary. The desk itself was bare except for writing supplies. The bed was nicely made, the dirty clothes were all gathered in a hamper.

Rather than the pinups of big breasted women that he’d become accustomed to living with there were anatomy posters, one detailing the skeletal system, another the muscles, and one of the female reproductive system. This guy was serious, but Bob also had to smile at the last poster that had been meticulously pinned up. It was one he’d seen a few times at stores, showing a picture of a cat dangling from a tree branch, the words Hang in there, Baby written underneath.

He’d begun to unpack his belongings when he heard the sound of the door opening behind him. Bob turned to greet his new roommate, a smile already plastered on his lips only to freeze when he found himself face to face with the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on.

Longish blond hair stood up in unruly spikes with some tendrils framing his face, bringing attention to his eyes, which were a beautiful shade of green. They reminded Bob of the ocean, and just like that great body of water, they made him want to swim in their depths.

“Oh, I completely forgot you were moving in today! Sorry about that, I would have cleaned up.”

Damn it, he had an accent too! His biggest weakness.

”I’m Weisslogia Eucliffe, nice to meet you,” Weisslogia stretched his hand out in greeting, and Bob had to resist the urge to bring it up to his lips to kiss. He forced himself to shake it instead, although the formality of the gesture amused him. This guy was definitely not from around here.

“Bob Aileron,” Bob replied, “Nice to meet you as well.”

He could see Weisslogia looking him over and waited for the inevitable moment when he would frown or look away in disgust, but it never came. In fact, Weisslogia seemed to have no reaction at all. Not to the blush, the mascara, or the bright colors of his clothing. Not even to his painted fingernails. Bob had gone out of his way to paint a picture, and the lack of response to his efforts was disconcerting. He was so confused by it that he didn’t even feel relief.

“Hey, are those muffins?” Weiss asked excitedly as his eyes moved to the box of muffins Bob had placed on his desk. “Could I have one? I was running late this morning and didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Bob muttered, still bewildered.

Weisslogia raised an eyebrow at the comment but shrugged it off, opening the box and moaning happily at the sight. He shoved an entire muffin into his mouth, barely stopping to remove the wrapper.

“Whoa, slow down! There’s plenty more, you’re gonna choke!” Bob watched worriedly, trying to reconcile that this man, who was quite obviously a neat freak, was also the messiest eater Bob had ever seen. Crumbs flew out of his mouth at an alarming rate and damn if the juxtaposition of the two things didn’t make him seem even more interesting. He grabbed a napkin from the box and handed it over.

Weiss gave him a crumbly grin, and Bob felt his heart skip a few beats. He finally managed to swallow the muffin and used the napkin to clean himself up, swiftly putting it in the trash.

“Do you need any help moving in?”

“Nah, I’ve got it down to a science by now,” Bob retorted as he went back to unpacking his suitcase. “So you’re not from Fiore, are you?”

“Nope, I’m from a place called Edolas, it’s an-”

“Oh yeah, that’s an island to the east of here, right?” Bob interrupted, remembering it from his geography class in high school.

“Wow, you’ve heard of it, that’s a first!” Weisslogia’s eyes sparkled at his recognition.

“I used to like maps a lot,” Bob admitted shyly, not bothering to add how he used to dream he could just take off to one of those places and start over.

Weisslogia nodded, grabbing another muffin and wolfing it down in much the same graceless way as before. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m eating all your muffins,” he apologized with his mouth full, crumbs falling into the collar of his shirt and down on the floor. “Let me make it up to you, I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow!”

Bob found himself nodding along, not the least bit sure of what to make of his new roommate, but excited at the prospect of lunch with a handsome man the following day.

He turned back to his suitcase, attempting to hide his shit-eating grin from his roommate. He’d come in expecting to be rejected, and he’d somehow come out of it with a date.

And even though he knew it wasn’t a real date, it still hinted at a genuine interest on Weisslogia’s part in being his friend, something Bob hadn’t had for a long time.

He pushed the now empty suitcase under the bed, out of sight, daring to believe that maybe he wouldn’t need it again any time soon. That perhaps for once, things would work out in his favor, and this one moment finally marked the beginning of something good in his life.

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #ftlgbtpride2020 #ftlgbtales #bob #weisslogia #I Take Pride In What I Am 2020 #prompt: beginnings #fics #dads pride 2020 #bob & weisslogia

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firemedicdiaz · 4 years

Text

Doctoring December - Day 19

For @tellmeoflegends.

Fandom: MCU. Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader. Prompt: Injection. Word Count: 1623. Rating: 13+. Warning(s): mentions of needles, nothing overly graphic.

You tap your foot impatiently, glancing at your watch as you wait for Stephen. He’s more than ten minutes late for your lunch date and if he doesn’t show up soon, you’re going to miss lunch entirely. He’d promised to let you know if something came up and he couldn’t make it to meet you, but you figure he’s probably forgotten or left his phone in his office when he was paged somewhere.

Plucking up the two vials of flu vaccine, you stash them back in the med fridge and set the two sets of needles and syringes aside, giving up on waiting. You’ll just have to stick each other later. It’s kind of a blessing, really; you hate shots and you’re content to put one off for a little longer, even if the prospect of it looming over you is somewhat disquieting. You slip quietly out of the med room, the door swinging closed in your wake, and hurry off to the cafeteria to enjoy what’s left of your break.

An hour later the doors to the emergency room swing open as you’re busy pulling on gloves and a gown. You watch Stephen stride in, a no-nonsense, determined expression firmly in place as he joins you. He starts to gown up in preparation of receiving a critically injured patient with an unstable skull fracture, barely even glancing at you.

“I missed you at lunch,” you comment softly, stepping behind him to tie his gown at the neck for him.

“Sorry, I got called into the OR to assist a colleague,” he explains.

You shrug, moving on to the waist tie.

“I figured.”

He’s spared from replying as the ambulance bay doors slide open, admitting the patient you’ve been preparing for. He’s laser-focused in an instant and you push all thoughts of being stood up earlier aside, jumping into the fray.

The work is fast-paced and you’ve got your hands full enough that you forget about everything but your patient for a while, letting all thoughts of the flu shots slide until the patient gets whisked off to radiology for some urgent scans. You glance around the empty trauma room as you strip off your gloves, and through its open doors you watch Stephen stride quickly off toward the OR elevators. You won’t let him get away that easily. Breaking into a sprint, you chase after him as he presses the elevator button, stopping on a dime beside him as the doors slide open.

“Wait for me in your office after you’re done in the OR?” You say breathlessly.

“It could be a long procedure,” Stephen says briskly. “If I’m not done by the time your shift ends, don’t wait up.”

You frown as he steps into the elevator, scarcely sparing you a glance as he presses a button and the door slides closed. You sigh and turn, heading back to the trauma room to help with the clean up, trying not to ruminate too much on why Stephen’s been so cold all day. He’s never been the warmest person, but you usually feel more affection from him than you’re feeling now.

Your heart aches a little as the rest of the shift ticks by, a constant reminder of Stephen’s brusqueness. Even a steady stream of patients fails to distract you entirely, and by the time the end of your shift rolls around you find yourself considering just heading straight home without stopping by Stephen’s office all together. As you head toward the locker room, however, a poster encouraging all staff to get their flu shots catches your eye and you heave a resigned sigh, deciding against your impulsive first choice.

You change out of your scrubs and sling your bag over your shoulder before heading back out to the hospital proper. You make a quick stop by the med room to grab two doses of flu vaccine and all of the paraphernalia you’ll need for your shots and then make your way toward the elevators, pressing the button for the neurology unit.

The elevator ride is short and soon you step out of the elevator, turning toward the administrative wing. You smile at a few familiar faces as you make your way toward the surgeons’ offices and wave at the secretary as you approach her desk.

“Is Dr. Strange out of surgery yet?” You ask.

She looks pensive for a moment.

“I think I saw him dart in here a little while ago, but he left again shortly after.”

You frown.

“Did he look like he was headed home for the night?”

She shakes her head.

“He didn’t have his coat or briefcase,” she replies. “Do you want me to let you in so you can wait for him?”

You smile.

“Please. That would be great.”

She pushes away from the desk and reaches for a ring of keys in a nearby drawer. You follow her down the hall to Stephen’s office and thank her again as she lets you in. She leaves you to make yourself comfortable as you flick the lights on, and you find yourself moving over to the small sofa at the far side of the room.

You glance out at the city beyond the window behind Stephen’s desk, watching lights slowly turn off, one by one, in distant buildings. Itching for a way to pass the time, you take out the two vaccines you’d stashed in your lunch bag to keep them cold, palming the injection supplies with your free hand. You draw up both doses, setting the syringes on the couch next to you.

A voice outside the door garners your attention and you turn your head just in time to watch Stephen walk into the office. His expression falls just the slightest bit before recovering, settling into the stoic mask you’re used to.

“I told you not to wait up,” he says lightly.

You frown a little, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got off a little late anyway,” you explain. “I’ve only been here for a few minutes.”

Stephen makes a noise of acknowledgement as he moves toward his desk, reaching for his briefcase and popping it open.

“I’ll be ready to go in just a minute,” he says without looking at you, shuffling some papers into his briefcase.

You pick up the two syringes and a couple of bandaids and alcohol swabs, rising and heading toward where Stephen is hurriedly packing. You prop yourself on the edge of his desk and watch him closely as he eyes you out of the periphery of his vision. His gaze lingers on the flu shots and you find yourself hit with a revelation. As you reflect on the day’s events, from the time he’d first blown you off at lunch right up to the prickly state he seemed to be in now, you realize something.

“It’s the needle, isn’t it?” You ask softly. “You don’t like shots.”

Stephen quickly averts his gaze.

“Well, who does?” He deadpans.

You smile, setting the syringes down and putting yourself in his line of sight.

“I’m really good,” you reassure him. “I promise you won’t feel a thing. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you stab me first.”

Stephen glances up to meet your eyes, his expression somewhat withering.

“How could I possibly say no to the prospect of being stabbed?” He says sarcastically.

You roll your eyes, reaching over to roll up your sleeve and turning a little so your side is facing Stephen. You glance over your shoulder at him.

“Come on,” you urge. “I don’t like shots much, either, so the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can forget all about it.”

Stephen sighs and closes his briefcase, reaching for one of the syringes and an alcohol swab. You turn your head away as he tears it open, the scent of the antiseptic making you cringe a little. It’s cool against your skin and in stark contrast to the warmth of Stephen’s touch a moment later as he steadies your arm with his free hand.

“Little pinch,” he warns just moments before the needle enters your skin.

You grit your teeth at the slight sting and close your eyes tightly against the uncomfortable sensation of the liquid entering your muscle. It’s over as quickly as it began, though, and within seconds Stephen is pressing a bandaid into place. He massages the area gently for a few moments and finally pulls away to recap the needle.

“Thank you,” you murmur softly, rolling your sleeve back down. “Now it’s your turn.”

He rolls his eyes and grumbles a little but obediently turns an arm to you. You reach up and push his sleeve out of the way, gently stroking your fingers over his shoulder a moment before reaching for the alcohol swab. You repeat the same procedure he’d used with you, watching him closely for any signs of discomfort. It’s all over in a blink, though, and Stephen doesn’t so much as twitch as you inject the vaccine. You recap the needle and reach out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You got through it like a trooper,” you tease lovingly.

“How did you get so good at that?” Stephen asks.

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll take that as a thank you and a compliment,” you say, swatting him gently.

He turns to face you, reaching for your hands and pulling you in closer.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely.

You’re spared the need to reply as he leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You lean into him, smiling against his lips and reveling in his warmth, the slight ache in your arm already long forgotten.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Doctoring December Masterlist

#Doctoring December 2.0 #MCU #Stephen Strange #reader insert #fanfiction

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maggyme13 · 5 years

Text

The Last Mission (9/?)

AN: Please dont hate me after this! But this is a dark fic and i wanted to try somehing new.

There are German part in here at the end. the english translation is written right after them like this

Wordcount: around 1500

Warning: grafic description of birth, miscarriage

Masterlist

TLM- Masterlist

Part 8

Next time you woke up, you where laid on the bed, your head resting on a soft pillow. Something cold was pressed against your exposed chest and your instinctivelyd jerked away. It was a different cold than the soldier´s metal prosthetic.

An unknown male voice told you something in a stern voice you couldn´t underdstand.

“He tells you to lay back again so he can finish his check up.”, the soldier rumbled from your left. He stood a few steps away, his eyes fixed on the male stranger and muscles tense. You noticed his flesh hand was resting on the hidden blade, ready to pull it at any moment and kill the man, should he do something stupid.

Knowing the soldier would not allow anything happen to you, you did as the stranger had asked from you.

It took another few minutes for the doctor(?) to finish his check up. He then said somehting to your captor again, who nodded and handed over some money, before guiding the man out of your little appartment.

Waiting for him to say or do anything to you, you did not move from your position on the bed.

“You fainted.”, he finally told you, “I had to find a doctor after you did not wake up on your own after a while. He said to be carefull in your condition and to take it easy. He will check on you again in a few weeks to make everything is fine.”

“Okay.”, you nodded, pulling the sheets around your body to keep warm.

“Your clothes are on your left. get dressed and then sit down to eat.”

Nodding again, you pulled the offered shirt above your head and then sat down at the table- soup was served.

“What you and Barnes did was a stupid thing to do. You did not know where you were and then you left into the blue.”, his voice was angry, but stayed calm and even.

“I am sorry.”, you flinched.

“Good. Don´t do something like this again!”, he ordered staring you down to get his point across, “We will stay here. No one knows who we are and in your condition it is smarter. But you will NOT leave this appartment.”

It was hard for you to walk around and do your chores now..

You feet hurt, as did your back and head often times.

It was your seventh or eightth month of pregnancy and trusting the doctor, neverything was going fine.

Bucky had left you to buy some food on the little marked a few blocks away- you had suddenly started to crave plumbs- and you were trying to clean your appartment as best as you could.

You had wanted to mob it for a while now, but both Bucky and the soldier were stating it was to dangerouse. Unbeknownst to you, would they be right.

Hurried steps caught your attention and to stepped away from the door and into the far corner of the room.

Not a second later, did the door open and Captain America entered.

Fury rose in your blood.

He hadn´t notice you yet, and he wouldn´t, because a the moment his eyes would have caught your form, Bucky entered catching the man´s whole attention on himself.

Bucky´s eyes flickered to you to make sure you were alright while at the same time telling you to hide. He didn´t know who can be truste (which included himself), and unlike the soldier, who whould often touch your stomach to dfeel the child move, HE barely did- always afraid to hurt the unborn baby.

The two men started to talk , though you did not really listen; a movement outdside the covered window caught your attention and not a second later, all hell broke loose.

Explosions and smoke filled the room, blinding you for a while and making it hard to breath.

YOu wanted to get away from there, hide and wait until everything is over. But you would not be able to.

You had made it to the flat-door when she burts open again, hitting you. That caused you to loose your footing, when your foot caught the bucket with water.

“POLICE!”, someone shouted, though the only thing you registered was a sharp pain in your abdomen when you fell onto the edge of the kitchen table; the corner embedding itself into your stomach.

Fuck

At once you curled yourself into a small ball, uncontrolably sobbing. It hurt too much and you hoped your baby was alright.

A presence appeared next to you and you could hear a slightly panicked voice of a man. Hands roamed your body on the search for secret weapons (as you later learned).

“Atlas 100 von 5-3. Wir haben eine weibliche Unbekannte. Schwanger.”, he spoke. ((”Atlas 100 for 5-3. We have an unknown female. Pregnant.”)) ”Verstanden. Negativ. ZP ist ins Treppenhaus geflüchtet. Mit dem Captain.((Understood.Negative. Target left into the stairwell with the captain.”)) Miss. Miss. German federal police. Can you understand me?”

The man tried to uncurl you, but you didn´t. Too great was your panic and pain.

“Frank hilf mir. Wir müssen sie beruhigen und auf das Bett legen und gucken obn und wo sie verletzt ist.((Frank help me. we need to calm her down and get her onto the bed so see if and where she is injured.))”, the man told another man.

“Klar. Gib mir Deckung, ich mach das. ((Sure. Cover me, I do that.))”, a new voice stated and not a few moments later you were lifted into the air, only to be placed onto the bed.

Another shout of pain left your throat upon that movement.

“I am sorry Ma´m. But- Scheiße. Atlas 100 von 5-5: wir brauchen dringend einen Arzt zu unserer Position. DIe Unbekannte hat Blut zwischen den Beinen und es wird immer mehr--positiv--negativ. Aber- verstaden. 5-5 ende. ((Fuck. Atlas 100 for 5-5. We need a medic to our position immediatelly. The unknown has blood between her legs and it gets more and more-- positiv--negativ. But- understood. 5-5 out.)). “

”Miss. I need you to lay on your back and open your legs. I need to see where all the blood is coming from.”, the first voice asked you through your sobbs.

Blood? What Blood? God no!

Shocked hearing those words, you did as the man pleaded and slowly uncurled your body. It was then that the cramps started.

“Shit.”, the second man cursed and you screamed in pain when another hit you and you felt your babies position shift down.

You had just starting to give birth.

“5-3 an alle: Weiß jemand wie man ein Kind zur Welt bringt?-Ja ich bin mir sehr sicher. Verstanden. ZP1 hat das Gebäude verlassen. Gebäude wird gesichert. ((”5-3 for everyone. Does anyone know how to give birth to a baby?- Yes I am very sure. Copy. Target 1 had left the building. Building is being secured.”)) “

You had finally found the courage to open your eyes,only to find two men dressed in black combat uniforms standing and sitting in front of you. THe one standing held his weapon in a way that made it possible for him to either shoot you or anyone coming throughh that door at a moments notice. The other one was tall and broad, his weapon laying next to him, but out of your reach. Both men had a worried glint in their eyes.

“Please.”, you sobbed not really knowing what to say or do.

The police-officers shared a look before the taller one spoke again.

“Miss. I need to strip your trousers and underwear. There is a lot of blood and we think you might have gone into labour.”

You could only nod, because another very painful cramp hit.

“Cut them off. I don´t care.”, you whined, the urge to spread your legs to ease the pain taking over. Hot shivers covered your body and sobbs left your chest. It was far too early for your little boy to see the world.

The standing man had turned his back more towards you, giving you a bit more privacy, while his comrade got rid of your clothing; only to place the covers of your bed over your legs.

You felt your inner walls stretch and your baby enter your birhting canal- but something felt wrong. Now the pain would not stop and it overtook everything.

____ ATTENTION TRIGGERING MATERIAL BENEATH THIS ____

You could not breath propperly and when you finally felt your child leave your body after a very long and painful time- nothing happened.

It was quiet. No cry or whailing of a newborn and you new your baby boy was dead. Even without having to see the looks on the faces of the men.

It was then that three more police officers (dressed like the two with you) entered with medics at their sides. At once the medics took over the situatuion, asking questions and doing their job.

You did not react. or answer. Your eyes cast on your stillborn child that was being looked over by another pair of newly arrived medics.

Everything that happened afterwards, your mind did not register. It was once big blurr.

Part 10

AN 2.0: Sorry not sorry... So who caught my little GSG 9 easter egg? Any German readers who loved that series as much as I did?

So what do you think and do you hate me now?

Nothing is more discouraging than no feedback at all and maybe you get a quicker update … OR IS MY WRITING THAT BAD; THAT YOU HAVE TO SAVE OTHERS FROM READING IT??????

Thank you all for reading and until next time ;)

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey

@thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine

@ambrosialyn

@markusstraya

@graveyard-groupie

@buckycaptspideypool

@markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @caplansteverogers @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

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mss4msu · 5 years

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Call Me Doctor. (Steve’s Chapters 7 & 8)

Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.

Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader

Words: 4710

Warnings: Language and ANGST

A/N: I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write more of this. I graduated with my Masters a week ago and have been busy applying to jobs all week. But this chapter is v long to try to make up for it!!

IMPORTANT: THIS IS WRITTEN FROM STEVE’S PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THIS DEPICTS STEVE’S VIEW FROM CHAPTER 7 TO CHAPTER 8 OF CALL ME DOCTOR!!

Catch Up On the Story Here

By the third week of the semester, Steve became more smitten with (Y/N) than he had believed possible. While in the past he had actively avoided the departmental lunches in favor of staying in his office and working, knowing that (Y/N) would be there enticed him to attend, despite the comments and looks he received from James about it. Steve found that he could join her for lunch the other two days a week as well, and was thankful that it was just the two of them together in the office. He learned more and more about (Y/N) during each lunch, such as how she loved ketchup but hated tomatoes and couldn’t listen to classical music while working because she got too involved listening to the specific instruments to focus on her tasks. No matter how hungry Steve was, he could talk to (Y/N) for hours and often forgot to eat his lunch, leaving him hastily shoving it into his mouth as he ran off to one of his classes.

Steve was thankful that the third week also brought less students into the office, as they had already done their necessary introductions with (Y/N) during the first two weeks. While in the past he would have taken the quiet to work, he found himself wanting to talk to (Y/N) instead. While they chatted about different things about their lives outside of work, they also talked about various challenges of their jobs. Steve got advice on how to incorporate popular culture into his lectures to make them more appealing to students.

On one afternoon, Steve worked up the nerve to ask (Y/N) how to use Tumblr. Steve told (Y/N) about the year he had spent studying love letters sent during WWII and was curious if he could find fanfictions on Tumblr to relate to them, just as (Y/N) had done with the Egyptian love poems. She helped him set up a username (he chose SteveRogers_UniversityProfessor so he wouldn’t forget it) and then began to search for stories. Steve watched as she pulled up fanfictions about a star-spangled superhero who was incredibly popular with the ladies. Seeing (Y/N) blush at the explicit content appearing on his screen made Steve wonder what sorts of NSFW activities she was in to. He deemed it necessary to continue reading it, even at her requests to exit the page to “get the full experience.” Seeing her embarrassment and how easily she navigated the site, Steve also began to wonder if (Y/N) may have written some of the content herself.

Steve picked up the phone and, to (Y/N)’s chagrin, called James and told him to come into his office. When James came into the room, the three of them huddled behind the computer screen. Steve gently moved the keyboard from under (Y/N)’s fingers and typed in the username that (Y/N) had referenced in her presentation. He quickly found stories of an American turned Russian super-soldier, which James found immensely interesting.

“Steve, click that one, Guys My Age,” James requested.

Steve obliged and opened the story, “Which Part?”

“Part one!” James excitedly replied.

Steve clicked Part One, “Warnings are lap dance and angst.”

“I thought you said these were juicy!” Bucky scoffed, “This just sounds like a typical Saturday night.”

Steve rolled his eyes and clicked on the link to the next part.

“Smut and NSFW gifs? Now we’re talking,” Bucky said, leaning closer to the screen.

“‘Fuck me. Now. You can apologize later.’ This is kinda kinky, (Y/N),” Bucky said, giving her a look.

“‘His hands were roaming everywhere and you couldn’t get enough of the contrast between temperatures,’” Steve read.

“‘Please...please touch me I n-ned to feel you inside me!’” James read, pawing at Steve’s shoulder.

(Y/N) awkwardly cleared her throat from behind the two men, who both began to giggle.

“If you’ll both excuse me, I think I need to go make my own Tumblr account for...research purposes,” James said, as he began to leave the office.

“Don’t forget you share an office with someone, James,” Y/N replied.

“That didn’t stop you two,” James winked as he left the room.

By Friday Steve had been looking forward to going home and searching through Tumblr to see if he could find an account for (Y/N). She was packing up her things to go home when Tony stopped by the office.

“Ah, perfect! (Y/N) and Steve, you’re both still here! Unfortunately, I have an important engagement tonight, Pepper is getting awarded an Excellence in Leadership award, and I of course will be there, so we need faculty to be here for the lecture tonight. Everyone else seems to have gone home already, so it looks like you two are the ones for the job!”

Steve cleared his throat in annoyance, getting ready to snap back, which Tony quickly realized.

“No issues with that I hope?” Tony rhetorically asked, giving (Y/N) a poignet look, “Great, thanks a bunch! (Y/N), the welcome is in your email inbox ready to go!” Tony finger-gunned them both as he left the office smiling.

Steve heard (Y/N) grumbling as she unpacked her bag and sat back down at her desk.

“So typical of Tony,” Steve growled.

“What do you mean, typical?” She asked.

“He is notorious for last minute assignments when he knows people have better things to do. He did it to you your first week by assigning you that lecture and he did it to me with the introduction.” While Steve loved the freedom he had to research by being just a professor, he often regretted not taking the director position because it would have meant that he could be the one bossing Tony around.

Steve heard (Y/N) mutter something to herself, “What was that?” he asked looking (Y/N) straight in the eyes.

“Nothing, just annoyed I have to stay.”

“Why? Big plans this weekend?” Steve’s heart began to race.

“Huge plans. I had a big date,” she replied, to which Steve’s heart sank and he couldn’t help a tense frown appearing on his face, “with my couch, my tv, a pint of ice cream, and a bottle of wine,” she finished.

Steve took a deep sigh of relief and his face relaxed, “That sounds very similar to my weekend, minus the tv and the ice cream.”

“You have a couch?” she teased him, “I imagined you felt most comfortable on a bed of nails.”

Steve was aware of the office jokes about his home, but it stung a bit coming from (Y/N), “Gotta sleep sharp to keep sharp,” he joked back, trying to cover it up.

After sitting in silence a few minutes, Steve felt the need to defend himself further.

“You know my apartment really isn’t full of dangerous furniture, right?” he asked hesitantly, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“I can’t make any official judgements until I have experience.”

“Well, perhaps I will return the invitation to a dinner in my home,” Steve’s heart was racing.

“I would like that,” she said, quickly adding, “I mean, it would be nice to have a get together of everyone.”

Steve couldn’t tell why she had added the bit about everyone coming over, and simply answered, “Quite.”

They returned to working in silence until (Y/N)’s phone alarm went off to go downstairs to the lecture. They both packed up their things and went down together. Steve placed his things on a seat in the back of the room.

“I should probably sit in the front, since I have to do Tony’s welcome,” (Y/N) said.

Perhaps too eagerly, Steve replied, “I’ll join you,” before picking up his things and walking with her to the front of the lecture hall.

Steve settled into a seat near the podium, next to the one (Y/N) had placed her bag on. After she had finished the welcome, she moved her bag to the floor and sat next to him. Steve couldn’t focus on the lecture, as he thought about the woman sitting next to him instead. 10 minutes into the lecture, Steve noticed (Y/N)’s leg restlessly bouncing up and down. He waited a few seconds, working up his nerve, and then nudged her.

“Worried you’ll be late for your date?” he whispered in her ear.

“Ha. Ha.” she whispered back.

He took a deep breath, and decided to ask, “Wanna get drinks after this?”

“Honestly, we should’ve gotten drinks before,” she replied.

Steve couldn’t help but snort a laugh in agreement.

With drinks to look forward to at the end of the lecture, the event seemed to take even longer than usual. Once or twice, when (Y/N) shifted in her seat, she would accidentally elbow Steve. Although he knew it was an accident due to how close the seats were to each other, he couldn’t help the flutter of his heart each time it happened. Steve began to daydream about the night ahead; getting drinks with (Y/N), maybe going to his or her apartment after for more conversation, leaving before things got too heated...if they even got a little heated at all. Steve snapped back to reality when he felt the seat next to him move as (Y/N) got up to thank everyone for attending.

“Ready?” Steve asked as she came back to her seat and hurriedly picked up her bag.

“Never been more so,” she replied.

“Let’s go then, there’s a good bar a few blocks north. I’ll lead the way.”

Steve resisted the urge to take her hand, and walked out of the auditorium. The walk to the bar was spent discussing how boring the lecture had been. As they entered the bar, they found it noisy and dimly lit. Steve led the way to the only open table in the back of the bar, where there was at least a little reprieve from the sounds of the full bar. (Y/N) sat down, and Steve leaned down to speak into her ear, which gave him a slight flutter in his stomach.

“It’s loud in here, is this ok?” he asked.

“It’s fine!”

“Alright,” he felt relieved, “I’ll get us some drinks. Any requests?”

“Something full of alcohol.”

Steve nodded a reply, and as he turned to the bar he couldn’t help but smile at her response. Despite the bar being full, Steve was able to slide in and have the bartender come right to him.

“Hiya Steve,” the bartender said, pulling out a glass from under the bar, “The usual?”

“Hey Stan,” Steve replied, “two of the usuals this time.”

“Two?” Stan asked. Steve moved slightly so the bartender could look around him and see (Y/N) at the table. “Good for you!” he exclaimed, getting out another glass and filling them both with ice and bourbon.

“Thanks Stan,” Steve said as he slid cash across the bar.

“Have fun tonight,” Stan winked at him.

Steve walked back to the table and handed (Y/N) one of the glasses, taking a drink as he sat down in the chair next to her, “Bourbon on the rocks.”

She took her drink and coughed, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh as he patted her on the back.

“I haven’t had much time to drink lately, so it’s a bit strong!”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve continued to chuckle, he couldn’t help but feel even more attracted to her.

They spent two hours talking about anything and everything, from restaurants in the neighborhood to places they wanted to visit in the city, career goals, and hopes for the future. To Steve, the loudness of the bar disappeared as he focused on (Y/N)’s voice, although after 3 drinks his focus wasn’t as great as he wished.

“So, Steve, are you seeing anyone?” (Y/N) asked.

Steve felt a lump form in his throat, “No, not recently.”

“Oh...that’s interesting.”

Steve noticed a blush spread in her cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile, “I suppose so. Another round?”

“Why not!”

Steve returned to the bar for another round.

“Looks like it’s going well over there,” Stan grinned at Steve.

“I actually think it is,” Steve grinned back. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy. “I really like her, Stan.”

“I think the feeling may be mutual,” Stan said, nodding in (Y/N)’s direction.

Steve turned to see her anxiously combing her fingers through her hair and smoothing it down.

“This round is on me,” Stan said, sliding two more drinks across the bar, “Go get her!”

Steve thanked Stan and went back to (Y/N).

“Here you are, Doctor,” he said as he handed her her drink. His eyes wandered to her chest, and he could have sworn her breasts had somehow gotten larger, he quickly looked back up to her face as he sat down.

Steve nervously cleared his throat, dreading the possible answer to the question he was about to ask, but knowing he needed an answer, “Are you seeing anyone?” He took a long drink from his glass as he waited for her answer.

“I am not,” she replied, to which Steve let out a sigh of relief, “I was told in school that I needed to choose between my own academic success or a personal life, and I wouldn’t be here now if I had chosen a personal life.”

Steve didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the encouragement from Stan that made him ask, “Would you be terribly offended if I kissed you?”

“Not in the least,” (Y/N) replied, moving herself closer to him.

Steve set his drink down and moved his hand behind her head, pulling her into him. The moment their lips met, Steve felt a shiver run down his spine and his heart began to pump faster. She moved her hands up to his face and kept her mouth against his. Steve didn’t want to admit how strong his feelings for (Y/N) were before, but after such a passionate kiss, he had to. (Y/N) eventually pulled away, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” was all Steve managed to gasp out. He took a moment, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m glad you chose academics over a personal life so you’d end up here.”

“Me too.”

“So, who do I owe thanks to for the sage advice?” he asked, still caught up in the moment.

Steve noticed (Y/N) become very hesitant before she answered, “It was actually my advisor, Sharon.”

Steve couldn’t help himself, the alcohol had lowered his ability to keep his emotions in check, although he wasn’t that great at it sober, “That bitch?” he instantly cursed under his breath.

“Steve, what happened between you and Sharon?” Steve could see how tentative (Y/N) was, but he was too blinded by a drunken rage to hold back.

“What didn’t happen? She stole my mentor, she stole my scholarship, broke my heart, stole a grant from me...I finally beat her when I got the position here.” Steve spat out the abridged version of his relationship with Sharon.

“Wait, backtrack a second, she broke your heart?”(Y/N)’s face fell, but Steve didn’t notice.

“We were in our first year of undergrad and I saw her and I developed a crush on her. She always acted like she wanted me back, but she just used me for my notes and my brain and then she took every opportunity I applied for, which she only knew about because my dumb ass would tell her that I was applying for things. I’m sure she fucking plagiarized my applications because she always wanted drafts to look at for examples. I followed her along, having never experienced such an attraction and she quickly lost interest in me as she grew more and more successful, although I’m sure the interest was fake on her side to begin with. Fuck her. I’m surprised you were able to turn out so well with her lying ass advising you. Or maybe you’re just a fake too,” Steve couldn’t keep himself from lashing out, his anger blinding him from any tact. While he had no reason not to trust or believe in (Y/N), his hatred of Sharon was clouding his judgement of her and he was not sober enough to realize it.

“Steve, I think you should go home.”

“Oh, should I? Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?” Steve spat, his rage blinding him from seeing that (Y/N) was on the verge of tears.

“What the actual fuck?”

“Maybe you are a fucking fake. Great, now you can fucking break my heart too,” Steve snarled, getting up and stumbling his way to the door. He pulled out his phone to try to call a ride home, but his eyes struggled to focus due to the alcohol and rage.

“Steve, let me help you,” he heard (Y/N) say from behind him.

“Fuck off, (Y/N),” he yelled, as the car he ordered arrived, “Clear off the bookshelf for Monday, I have a new shipment of books coming in and I need the space.”

Steve got into the car and left (Y/N) on the corner without another word. His eyes began to burn as tears streamed out of them. The further he got from the bar, the louder the little voice in the back of his head telling him he had just made a terrible mistake became. He stumbled out of the car and fumbled with his keys, finally getting into his apartment and collapsing on his bed, shaking with tears of anger towards Sharon and disappointment towards himself. He grabbed his phone and called James, but got no answer.

Suddenly feeling the urge to vomit, Steve crawled his way to the bathroom and arranged himself near the toilet. He lost track of how many times he had thrown up before he passed out.

Steve awoke in the morning to James gently shaking his shoulder and asking him to wake up.

“Buck?” Steve asked groggily, a vile taste in his mouth. As he opened his eyes, he found himself facedown on the floor of his bathroom. “What the fuck happened?” he asked as he hoisted himself into a sitting position with the help of his friend.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” James answered. “I woke up this morning to a call from you, and when I tried to call back I got no answer. I waited at the brunch place for 20 minutes and then came straight here, figuring something was wrong.”

Steve tried to remember what had happened the night before, but everything seemed foggy, “I’m sorry, man. I just can’t think straight right now.”

“Well, let’s get you showered and changed and maybe you’ll remember more later,” James said gently, helping a wobbly Steve stand up. “Can you do this by yourself though, because I really don’t want to sponge bath you.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve chuckled weakly.

James left Steve in the bathroom to shower, checking in every minute to make sure he was still upright and ok. Steve finished the shower and found clothes waiting that James had set out for him. He got dressed and went to the living room, where he flopped down on the couch.

“Remember anything else, buddy?” James asked gently.

Steve furrowed his brow as he tried to remember, “I went to the damn lecture because Tony said I had to. (Y/N) was there,” he paused for a moment, “And we went out for drinks afterwards I think?”

“Ok, this is a good start,” James encouraged him.

“Fuck, my head is pounding. Can I take a quick nap and maybe I’ll know more when I wake up?”

“Sure, Steve, get some rest,” James grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and covered Steve with it.

Steve was asleep in seconds, and James quickly grabbed his phone and texted (Y/N). When she didn’t answer he began to text more frantically. When she still didn’t respond, he started to call.

Steve’s began to wake up when he heard James on the phone with someone.

“And I found him slumped over the toilet, passed out and covered in his own vomit. I finally got him in the shower and cleaned up, and now he’s sleeping on the couch. So, what the fuck did you do to him?” he heard James asking.

Steve’s face began to burn when James said, “And I don’t suppose you know why he was cursing out Sharon under his breath.”

There was a pause before James replied, “I gathered as much with Sharon, but if he hates you, why was he also going on about some kiss?”

Steve shuddered as he began to piece the night together. He had been out with (Y/N) after the lecture and everything was going so well and that had been one hell of a kiss. The whole night was perfect until Sharon ruined it. She wasn’t even physically there and she still had the power to ruin his life.

“(Y/N), it’s ok, I’m sure he’ll get over it,” he heard James saying.

Just hearing her name made Steve feel sick. He felt terrible for what he had said last night, although he couldn’t remember exactly what it was.

“Look, (Y/N), I’ll talk to him when he gets up. He’s my best friend and I know a lot about him. I know he thinks too highly of you to keep a grudge,” James said before a pause as he listened to (Y/N)’s response, “Heck yeah, Just, maybe don’t bring up that She-Devil again?” James laughed.

Steve squirmed on the couch as he began mentally beating himself up for how he had reacted, which James saw. Steve tried to hide his head under the blanket, but to no avail.

“Alright, (Y/N), I see movement on the couch. I’m gonna let you go, but don’t worry about what he said to you last night. Steve’s an asshole when he’s drunk. See you Monday,” James said before hanging up his phone and putting it in his pocket.

“Steve. You done fucked up,” James said, coming to the couch and ripping the blanket off Steve.

“Shit,” was all he could manage to say.

“You know, I was in favor of you two getting together, dating, and even with you fucking her. I was not down with you fucking her over. What the hell, man?”

“I don’t know what happened. Everything was going so well and then Sharon got brought up and I just snapped. (Y/N) is the first woman I’ve actually liked like this since Sharon,” he spat out her name, “The first woman I’ve let my guard down for. I think that’s why it happened. We were having the perfect night and the perfect kiss and then Sharon came up and I felt betrayed. Like I had let my walls down for the wrong person.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but Steve shook his head and continued.

“I know, I fucked up. It’s my fault and (Y/N) will probably never want to go out with me again. I feel terrible and I don’t know what to do.”

“You could apologize?”

“I don’t think that is even enough to fix this mess. Maybe I’ll just give her some space?”

“Space could work. I still think an apology is the best route though.”

The two men sat on the couch, each lost in thought. The silence was broken by the rumbling of James’s stomach.

“Ok, I need to eat. Are you still down to brunch or are you too hungover?”

Steve tried to sit up, but felt churning in his stomach, “I think I need to sit this one out,” he said, laying back down.

“Alright, we’ll I’m outta here then. I’ll give you some time to think and see you Monday. Please don’t fuck this up even more,” James said, getting up and leaving.

Steve spent the rest of the weekend trying to think of ways to apologize to (Y/N). He wrote and typed multiple apology letters, but none seemed to truly capture how sorry he was. He arrived to campus on Monday and decided that avoidance was the best option. He took a page from (Y/N)’s book and decided to set up a temporary office in the library.

Steve realized he needed a specific book from his office, and checked his watch. He had a few minutes before she would be back from her class to go get it. He hurried to the office, unlocked the door, grabbed the book, and quickly got out and relocked. He realized too late he had forgotten to turn off the light, as he heard someone coming.

Too embarrassed to face (Y/N), Steve spent the rest of the week working from the library. He went to the small coffee shop across the street to eat his lunches, as he didn’t want to risk an interaction in the staff lounge. He rode his motorcycle to work every day, even through the rain on Thursday, as he couldn’t bring himself to chance meeting (Y/N) on the bus again.

After a successful week of avoidance and intel from James that she had been eating in the office, Steve risked a lunch in the staff lounge on Friday. He walked in and joined James on the couch, nervously taking his sandwich from the container.

“You’re sure she won’t be here?” Steve asked quietly.

“Dude, you seriously need to calm down,” James replied with a deep sigh, “If you had just done what I suggested and apologized, there would be no need for this.”

“I tried. I just can’t find the words to fully encompass how sorry I am.”

“How about, I’m sorry?” James asked.

The two ate their lunches, with James making casual conversation and Steve on edge that (Y/N) would show up. Steve had almost finished his meal when he heard someone walk into the room and looked up. Upon seeing it was (Y/N), his heart raced and his face turned bright red. Despite the fact that their conversation had been about the best flavor of pudding to pair with whipped cream, the men immediately stopped talking.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” James said, patting the seat next to him for her to come join.

Steve could see the hesitation she displayed upon actually taking the seat next to James. She opened her lunch box without looking at him, which made his heart sink.

“So, how’s your week been?” James asked her.

Steve immediately stared into his cup of coffee as he saw (Y/N)’s head lift to look at James.

“It’s been quiet…” she replied.

Steve looked up at her, trying to tell if she meant a good quiet or a bad quiet, but she was intently looking down at her lunch.

“Steve was telling me he’s had a lot of meetings this week,” James said, nudging Steve with his elbow, “This is really the first I’m seeing of you too, buddy.”

“And it’s all you get,” Steve grumbled, grabbing his bag and quickly walking out. He appreciated James’s help, but couldn’t stand how nonchalant he was acting about everything, he just needed to get out of that room before he broke down.

Steve went back to the library and just as he was sitting down, he was joined by James.

“Steve, that was the perfect opportunity for you to make things go back to normal. Why’d you walk away?”

“Because, James, I like her too much. Look at her, she couldn’t even make eye contact with me. I fucked that relationship up too badly. She’d never try again with me, so why even bother to talk to her?”

“That’s not the answer, Steve. Plus, how do you know she wouldn’t try again with you?”

“Because of this,” Steve spat out, showing his phone to James.

The phone was open to a text from Loki which read:

I’m taking out (Y/N) this weekend. Better luck next time sucker

CHAPTER NINE

STEVE’S CHAPTER NINE

Call Me Doctor. Tag List:

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Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tag List:

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Permanent Tag List:

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#fanfic #call me doctor #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel #au #professor au #professor steve #anthropology

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