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blackandgoldandeverythingnice · 3 years

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among the fields of gold - c. mcavoy

Pairing: Charlie McAvoy x female!OC

Summary: A little sneak peek into the future of charlie and nellie from i’m so glad to know as they attend the 2026 Olympics

Word Count: 4,682

A/N: Just the most self-indulgent little fluff I could come up with because I love writing them.

Warnings: none! the smallest hint of adult content but that’s about it.

“This is so fucking cool – did you ever actually tell me how cool it was to be at the Olympics?” Charlie was bouncing along the streets of Milan and swinging Eleanora’s hand as they went, a couple of other Team USA players behind them as they used the off day to do the touristy things they hadn’t yet been able to do during the first round of games.

“You’ve done plenty of World’s before, it’s almost the same.”

“It absolutely is not.” He argued back, glancing down and smirking at the little scowl on her face. He ignored the groans of a couple from the guys at the fact they were about to start bickering. It wasn’t their fault; he didn’t invite the idiots to come with them.

“You’re just excited because you’re staying in the Village and there are a bunch of girls there too – you don’t get that at World’s.”

“Yeah, I’m there for the girls.” He rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand before leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

The team was housed on their own floor in the dedicated USA building and it was like being back on a road trip in Peewees. They’d cruised through the round-robin, winning every game in their group and were heading into the elimination games. A lot of the guys had played together for years through development camps and national teams and they felt good about their chances.

They’d been wandering the streets of Milan, seeing as much of the sites as they could since all they’d seen were the inside of rinks. While Charlie had wanted to spend it just with Eleanora, some of the guys had caught him in the lobby with her on their way back from breakfast and insisted on joining them. She had pretty much become their team mascot: at every game, made a new sign for each and chatted with all the families happily. It made something in him burst in pride at the sight of her fitting so seamlessly into his life now. It hadn’t been an easy road to get there.

“Can you two not?” one of the Hughes brothers interrupted.

“Yeah, let’s stop this before it really gets rolling.” Matthew Tkachuk cut in, sweeping past Charlie with a smirk as he hit his shoulder and made his way across the square towards the Duomo. A few of the other guys sped passed them, running around the square and changing pigeons.

“And for a former Olympian, could you walk any slower?” Auston Matthews teased as he came right up close behind them.

Annoyed, Charlie shoved his teammate away just as Eleanora pinched his side. “I’m sorry, put some respect on the only gold medalist in this little crew right now. Also, I’m six months pregnant, dick head – you try carrying a bowling ball around your middle on these cobblestone ass streets.”

“Technically, a McAvoy has a gold medal – shouldn’t have changed your last name, babe.” Auston grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders but making sure to gently guide her as they walked around the various tourists and other athletes who had done the same thing they did.

“Can you get the fuck away from my wife?” Charlie groaned, checking Auston away so he could pull Eleanora into his side.

The rest of the guys walked ahead, leaving the two of them alone. Charlie smiled down at the way Eleanora was basking in the bright, cold air, her cheeks flushed and nose a little pink. There was a visible glow around her. He’d always thought it was bullshit when they said pregnant woman glowed but since the second she’d taken the test, there was a light happy aura around her. Walking with her tucked into him like she was slowed them down but Charlie liked making sure Eleanora was okay, to the point that she might kill him at some point if he asked her again how she was feeling.

“How are you – ”

“Don’t you dare ask how I feel right now, Charlie McAvoy.”

He pouted down at her. “It’s a valid question, they keep you scheduled so late for some of the media shit.”

“It’s called my job, babe.” She hip checked him gently. She’d stayed involved in the figure skating community and this year they’d invited her to provide commentary for the ladies’ singles. Turns out she was incredibly personable in front of the cameras and enjoyed talking to the young skaters. “I’m just happy none of your games conflict with the skating. I don’t think they’d love me ‘calling out sick’ only to have me show up on TV on the glass yelling at you to play better.”

“Excuse you, I have the most minutes played and highest rating.”

“Yes, baby – you’re very highly rated.” She snuggled into his side, and he laughed when she slid her hand into his back pocket and squeezed his ass.

The pair of them walked slowly around the square, laughing at the guys as they ran around. A few of Team Canada showed up along with a few of the Czech players. Since most of the teams were made up of NHLers, all the teams were friendly off-ice and trying to control them was like corralling kids at their first away tournament. A few fans stopped them as they went but most of them were interested in getting pictures with Eleanora rather than any of the guys, something the team loved to tease Charlie about. Joke was on them, he couldn’t be more proud to watch the way people adored her.

“How’s my boy doing?” he changed tactics as a group of young girls walked away after spending five minutes taking pictures with her and asking what it was like to win gold.

“I think he wants pizza and pasta.”

“Pizza and pasta? Not or?”

“You’re really gonna ask how I feel then judge your pregnant wife for wanting all the food?” the glare she shot him was enough to have him throwing his hands up in defense.

He leaned down to kiss her but she dodged him. “No way, bud – find me food then you can kiss me.”

“In my defense, I asked what my son wants to eat – you’re incidental to me checking up on him.”

“Do you want to die? Is that your plan? You want Team USA hockey to lose the gold because their captain was murdered by his pregnant wife?”

“Why’s Goldie threatening your life?” Jake popped up behind them, scaring the shit out of Charlie while Eleanora had seen him coming.

“He’s judging how much I want to eat.”

“Well, come on my fellow sewer rat – if Chuckie won’t love you right, I will.”

Jake offered her his hand and she took it, tossing a teasing smile behind her as the two of them started towards one of the side streets to find a suitable restaurant leaving Charlie to scurry after them.

--- ---

Eleanora chewed distractedly on her cuticle, staring at the clean sheet of ice waiting for the guys to step on for warmups. As she had for every single game, she was standing on the glass at the corner where her and his family had sat for the entirety of the tournament. The jersey of Charlie’s she had on barely fit over her belly and the maternity leggings made her feel like a sausage. Bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously, she was as nervous as she’d been for her own gold medal skate.

“How’re you feeling?” a voice interrupted her nervous thoughts and she glanced over to see her father-in-law sliding into the seat next to her. After the first win, they’d sat in the same order they’d been in for every other game that followed. While Charlie wasn’t overly superstitious, Eleanora was and there’d been half a dozen little rituals she’d come up with for this Olympics.

“Jesus, your son ask you to ask me that?” she teased back at Charlie Sr. She rubbed her belly slightly and tried not to wince at the pain in her back. “Pretty sure this asshole is sitting right on my sciatic nerve.”

“Can you not call my first grandson an asshole?” Charlie’s mom appeared on her other side, looping her arm through hers. “But seriously, you alright?”

“No pain I haven’t dealt with before but this kid is already putting me through the wringer. I have to do this for 3 more months?”

Mrs. McAvoy frowned sympathetically and rubbed her arm softly. “Sorry, Ellie but yes. It’ll be worth it though.”

Just as she spoke, the guys stepped out and Eleanora zeroed in on Charlie leading the way, pushing the pucks off the edge of the bench and onto the ice.

“I can’t believe this – my son is going to be an Olympic medalist no matter what.” His mom said, sniffling slightly as she watched them start skating.

“We want gold, Jen – right, kid?” Senior nudged her in the side.

Eleanora smiled slightly. “I just want him to do the best he can.”

“Bullshit, you’re more competitive than he is. I saw you cursing him out last game for - and I quote - ‘a bullshit lazy turnover’.” Holly added as she joined the conversation, pushing her mom out of the seat next to Eleanora so she could keep the right lineup.

They all laughed while she just shrugged. “No one plays for second place...although I do kinda like being the only gold medalist. It’s how I get him to do things for me when I think I deserve them.”

The noise in the arena started to swell as the Canadians took the ice and Eleanora felt the familiar buzz and thrill of the pressure building. She hadn’t been able to see Charlie this morning, only getting a quick FaceTime as she’d been wrapping up interviews with some of the figure skaters who were getting ready for their final performance the following day.

“How was he this morning?”

Kayla shrugged. “Quiet. He missed you.”

She frowned, cursing herself for not having been there. It was their routine for the last few years, she was always the last person to see him before he went into the locker room for a big game. It felt like a bad omen that she’d missed giving him a last kiss before the biggest game of his career.

But just then Charlie skated by them for the first time, helmet off and his hair flowing behind him. He tapped the glass as he went by but kept skating in loops. After a couple laps and drills, he returned to the corner and stopped in front of her.

She couldn’t hear him over the crowd but he was pointing at her and gesturing halfway across the rink to where there was an opening in the boards. She followed where he was pointing to see one of the arena staff standing by the entrance to the locker rooms and she got the hint, squeezing through the seats as fast she could. The belly didn’t exactly help her move quickly or the people that kept trying to stop her.

He was already waiting for her by the time she reached the space, his gloves off and resting on the side. He reached out for her and she stepped eagerly towards him. On skates he was so much taller than her that she had to stand on tip toe just to wrap her arms around his neck. She was cognizant of the eyes of those in the area on them and she was sure there were cameras zooming in too.

“I couldn’t play the biggest game of my life without getting my good luck kiss.”

The stares and camera clicks faded away as she stared up at him. Knowing how the media was obsessed with “Their Story”, this was bound to be everywhere in no time. It’s why they liked their moment to be private before a game but right now, Eleanora couldn’t quite care because all she wanted was Charlie to win.

Gently, he brushed her stomach and just as he did, the baby gave a hard kick. Charlie grinned, leaning down to press his lips firmly to hers and she smiled into the kiss. “I think someone’s telling you he wants you to win.”

“I plan on winning it for his momma, gotta impress her.” He smirked, his face still inches from hers.

“I love you, baby – so fucking much.” She pressed one final kiss to his lips. “I’m not gonna tell you just making it to the gold medal game is an achievement – even though it is. You know what you need to do. Go fucking win it.”

“I shoulda had you do the pump-up speech for the boys.” He kissed her nose quickly before pulling back and grabbing his gloves to return to warmups. “I love you, babe – see you on the ice after.”

She watched him skate away, her palm flat against her belly and she felt another strong kick. Rubbing her stomach she looked down at the USA stretched across her front, smiling softly as she whispered to herself.

“Don’t worry, little man – daddy’s gonna win it for us.”

--- ---

The second period started with the game tied at two. Charlie had an assist and had already spent almost twelve minutes on the ice. Despite most of the off-ice friendships and even teammates who were playing against each other it was getting chippy. They all clearly wanted it and weren’t holding back. Tkachuk had managed to draw three penalties while only going to the box once himself.

Eleanora felt like she was going to lose her voice the amount she’d been screaming throughout the game. It seemed like part of Team Canada’s game strategy was to go after Charlie as much as possible. They’d been hitting him hard and there’d been one particularly nasty penalty he drew when Chabot leveled him with a late hit. Charlie had been slow to get up from that one but within the first thirty seconds of the powerplay, he’d put a pass right on Auston’s tape for the tying goal.

There had always been something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking about watching Charlie play. When he was on the ice, she only watched him, not even noticing where the puck was or what action was happening unless he was involved.

It was partially how she was able to react a second before the rest of the rink when she saw Chabot coming from behind him, hitting him hard and sending Charlie headfirst into the boards. He was splayed out flat on the ice while his teammates immediately rushed to his defense, Auston and Tkachuk jumping Chabot before Auston was pulled away by Dougie Hamilton. Eleanora felt like climbing over the glass to get to him and Kayla was gripping her arm tightly.

“Get up. Get up. Get up, Junior.” His dad was begging while Eleanora just kept staring in horror.

After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute, he slowly tucked his legs up under him and managed to get to a kneeling position just as the team doctor reached him. He was clearly still dazed, holding one hand on his helmet as he slowly got up. Gaudreau had come over and was kneeling next to him, offering to help him up but Charlie waved him off.

The arena applauded as he stood up, but Eleanora couldn’t feel the relief everyone else did as she watched them lead Charlie to the locker room.

“He’s okay. He got up on his own. They just have to check him out for protocol. He’s okay.” Kayla was chanting and all Eleanora wanted to do was rush to the locker room. Instead of watching the rest of the game, she stared at the locker room entrance, praying Charlie would return to the bench.

They ended the second period down by one and only during the intermission did she let herself pull her phone out to find the replay of the hit. They all huddled around together watching intently, only slightly reassured that Charlie had gotten up on his own and made his way quickly down the tunnel without support. It felt like time was moving in slow motion as the ice was cleaned. Finally, the lights dimmed again and the players started back out on the ice.

It felt like a weight was lifted when she saw Charlie hop out last, doing quick laps to warm back up as he shook his legs out. As he went by them, he tapped the glass and Eleanora felt like she was going to cry just from the quick wink he gave her.

“Thank god.” His mom sighed a breath and Eleanora felt lightheaded as she rubbed her stomach aimlessly. The baby had been active all game, bouncing around and kicking more than usual. It’s like he could sense what was happening around them.

The third period wasn’t any less stressful, Team Canada was clearly content to play defense while Team USA threw everything at them but couldn’t seem to find the back of the net. But then in the last 27 seconds of the game, Charlie caught a pass from Quinn Hughes and buried it in the top corner of the net to tie the game. The roar of the arena felt deafening as they all jumped up and down, screaming happily while the players mobbed their captain. The crowd clearly expected overtime, neither team wanting to give one up in the remaining seconds of the game.

But then Conor McDavid of all people misplayed the puck in the neutral zone and it landed on Jack Eichel’s stick who shot down the ice on a breakaway with only 7 seconds to go, shifting to his backhand as he slid the puck between the goalie’s legs.

If it was possible, the roof would’ve blown off the top of the arena. Team USA hadn’t won since the 1980 Miracle on Ice game and the place was shaking with excitement. USA gear and equipment was strewn across the ice like confetti while Team Canada stared on in disbelief, some kneeling together watching while others had already started to make their way towards the locker room.

People were hugging her tightly and screaming in her ear. Eleanora wasn’t even sure they were all people she knew. Charlie Sr. pulled her away from whoever was holding her and into a tight hug while the rest of the family crowded around jumping as they celebrated. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she tried to spot Charlie on the ice but her vision was blurry.

Sobbing into one hand, the other pressed tight against her stomach she felt another strong kick which only made her sob harder. It was better than her own win because she hadn’t had any true family to celebrate with besides her coaches who had become replacement parents to her. This was entirely different and felt like they’d all won it.

The celebrations continued on the ice as the McAvoys all made their way towards the same opening Eleanora had talked to Charlie before the game start. Other wives and families were already there, pulling each other into hugs, most of the moms crying happily while a few of the dads tried to fight their own tears except for Jim Hughes who was openly crying as he held his wife tightly to him.

Standing on the glass so she could watch, Eleanora scanned the sea of blue jerseys to try to find Charlie, biting her lip to try to stop crying. She was still contemplating scaling the glass but knew the guys deserved to celebrate with their team first.

Finally, her impatience grew and Eleanora, just popped the door open and started to make her way onto the ice. Once the dam broke, the rest of the families followed, ignoring the staff asking for them to stay off the ice until they had carpets laid down.

It was decidedly difficult to maneuver on the ice in sneakers and a pregnant belly but she moved as quickly and carefully as she could towards her target. Their eyes locked and Charlie broke away from the guys to get to her. When he reached her, he went right for her waist, dragging her up and off the ice as he twirled her around as she held tightly to him.

Neither of them spoke at first as Eleanora pressed kisses all over his face as he laughed until he could kiss her back. It was awkward to be held up so Charlie carefully set her down on the ice, one hand tucking protectively against her back so she wouldn’t slip and the other pressed gently on her belly as he leaned down for the sweetest kiss they’d ever shared.

“I told you I’d win it for you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Not before scaring the shit out of me first.” She shot back but squeezed his waist tightly, her face landing in the sweaty material. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Teddy.”

She stared up at him, and despite the fact that he had just won the biggest game of his life, he was staring at her like they were the only two people in the world.

“This is almost as good as our wedding night.”

She gave a watery chuckle in return. “Just the wedding night not the wedding itself?”

“Eh, that was okay too.” He teased just as the rest of his family joined them. Reluctantly, she released him so he could hug his family, stepping back to give them a moment.

A few of the guys paused to hug her as they went by but mostly she just stood there watching Charlie beaming at everyone around him. The camera crews were starting to show up as the staff worked to get the carpets out and set up the podiums. Eleanora knew they wouldn’t get a private moment together for hours and she tried to melt into the background but Charlie was having none of that, snagging her hand and dragging her towards him as they started to interview him.

From her position under his arm, she stared up at him as he spoke, beaming proudly as he talked about the win and how special it was for them. She was so focused on him she didn’t realized they’d asked her a question.

“Nellie.” Charlie whispered, nudging her with a nose to the top of her head and she glanced at the reporter who was beaming at her.

“I was just asking how this compares to your own gold medal win just four years ago?” they repeated the question.

Eleanora grinned and squeezed his side tighter. “There’s no comparison.” She started, enjoying some of the frowns that followed before continuing. “What Charlie and the boys did was so beyond historic and I’m so proud to have been able to watch it happen. This team worked so hard and never gave up. I’m just thrilled I was able to share in it. Although I’m pretty pissed that I can’t win arguments anymore by saying ‘well I have a gold medal so you have to do what I say’.”

Everyone laughed in response, Charlie squeezing her side lightly.

“I’m sure you guys haven’t seen yet but the video of you two right before the game has become quite popular.” Eleanora flushed slightly as they continued. “Charlie – did you get any last minute advice?”

She pinched his side, hoping he’d lie but the smirk on his face already told her differently. “She pretty much told me that just getting to the medal game wasn’t enough and that I knew what to do. Pretty sure the exact words were ‘now go fucking win it’ and honestly, I can’t really say no to my wife so I did.”

--- ---

It was nearly three hours later by the time Eleanora and Charlie were walking into her hotel room and shutting the door so they were finally alone. They were planning on changing then meeting up with everyone to celebrate. Most of the guys’ flights weren’t for another day or two so they planned to enjoy what little remained of their Olympic break before they’d have to return to their teams for the rest of the season.

Charlie face planted onto the king-size bed. “Fuck, you’ve been sleeping on this for two weeks while I’ve been on the worst twin mattress in the world?”

Eleanora giggled, pulling her jersey off leaving on her loose t-shirt, she slipped out of her sneakers and kicked them towards the door so she could sit and join him on the bed. Despite how happy she was, she was exhausted and the pain in her back went from dull to stabbing on a dime. It took a little effort for her to climb up onto the bed and get comfy as she curled up on her side.

Charlie inched up so his nose was brushing against her swollen belly. Her hand immediately fell to his hair, running her fingers through gently and scratching his scalp. He brought his arm up so he was hugging her middle and pressed his lips against her.

“Hi, Tripp.” He whispered causing Eleanora to tug his hair gently.

“Baby, no. Even if he ends up Charlie the third, we are not calling him Tripp.”

Charlie ignored her. “Ignore mommy, I’ll make sure you get a cool nickname.”

She rolled her eyes but he kept talking. “I don’t know if you heard all that noise but now you have two parents with gold medals. We’re pretty big deals.”

“Kid was bouncing all over the place for most of the game before settling directly on my sciatic nerve so I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Be nice to mommy, sweet boy.” He mumbled and pressed a kiss to her stomach before turning up so he could stare at her. “I think I won because of you.”

“You won because you’re an amazing hockey player and leader. You did this. Next up you can win us a Cup.” She smiled softly, stroking his hair as he crawled up so their faces were level. They lay there quietly together, staring at each other and enjoying the peace. They’d both turned their phones off, telling his family they’d see them at the restaurant that USA hockey had reserved for them. For now, they just wanted to be alone.

Carefully, Eleanora brushed Charlie’s hair off his forehead. “Your head okay? I might kill that Canadian fuck.”

Charlie laughed but cringed slightly. His head hurt more than he let on but he passed concussion protocol and had a few days off before he’d have to be back on the ice for a game.

“Are you okay? I know when you’re in pain, Nellie.”

She winced despite trying to smile as he tucked his hand under her top to lay on her bare skin, soothingly running his thumb along belly.

“Just pregnancy, or so I’m told. I need to figure out how to get him off this nerve or I’m gonna spend the flight pacing the aisles because I won’t be able to sit.”

Charlie frowned. “I hate seeing you in pain. And I’m worried you won’t want the five that I want if this one is such a pain in the ass.”

She snorted, inching forward to kiss him softly. “Let’s get through meeting this little man first then we’ll talk more, kay?”

“You’re the love of my fucking life, you know that?” he gripped her neck gently.

Smiling, she leaned forward to steal another kiss. “Lucky for you, it’s mutual. Now…I bet we could find a comfy position for you to fuck me in before we have to go to the restaurant.”

A slow smirk spread across Charlie’s face as he rolled her carefully onto her back so he could lean over her.

“I can definitely do that.”

#charlie mcavoy #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagines #charlie mcavoy fic #boston bruins #me writing hockey fics #hockey fic #my writing #hockey imagines #hockey blurbs #annnnd we're back #because i'm just gonna keep writing these two #because it's fun for me #I hope you like it!#let me know if you have requests or feedback

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slowly-writing · 4 years

Text

Looks

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/n: I wrote this through a sleep deprived, midterm frenzied daze, and I’m not 100% happy with it. But I hope it turned out okay.

“We have three victims in six weeks. They were all abducted from public places and were held for three days before being discovered in a different, but equally public place first thing in the morning,” Garcia begins the briefing, clicking through the slides of the abduction and dump sites, “all three victims were high risk-”

“Holy shit,” Emily cuts her off as the mugshots of the victims appear on the screen.

“You okay?” You ask cautiously. Emily isn’t one to interrupt a meeting, and the outburst makes you a bit nervous.

“You’re seriously telling me you don’t see it?” Emily looks between you and the screen, making you even more confused.

“I do,” Morgan says, JJ and Spencer nodding along.

“Alright, you all are going to need to let me in on your secret. What are we seeing?” The team is now all staring at you confused.

“You really don’t see it, do you y/l/n?” Rossi says and you groan in frustration.

“What is there to see?” You practically yell.

“They all look exactly like you,” Emily says and you freeze. You lock your eyes onto the screen and furrow your brow. Sure they have the same hair color and eye color, but surely you’re not identical in any way.

“No they don’t. Can we just get on with the briefing?” You huff out. Annoyed at all the attention on you. You’re here to help these women. Not agonize over their looks.

“Right, of course. The three victims were high risk, making them easy targets, but he could become bolder as time goes on,” Garcia finishes and you all nod.

“Then we better stop him before he does. Wheels up in twenty,” Emily dismisses you and you all move to leave the room. But she grabs your arm, forcing you to stay behind with her and the rest of the team pauses as well.. Rossi looks between the two of you, debating if he should usher the team out and give you some privacy. But before he can decide Emily looks at the rest of the team.

“She can’t go.” Your jaw drops at her words and you pull your arm from her grasp.

“What the hell Emily? You don’t think this is a conversation we should have in private?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low.

“No because you’re not going to listen to me,” she crosses her arms and you roll your eyes at the stern look she sends you.

“Because you’re being ridiculous!” you yell this time and Morgan speaks up.

“She’s just trying to keep you safe. I know you say you don’t see it but you do look exactly like them.” You look around the room to see everyone nodding along and you sigh.

“I get that you guys are concerned for my safety, and I appreciate the thought, but it’s unnecessary. When you look beyond appearances I am nothing like those girls. More than that, I have you all to protect me. Now we can waste time with you forcing me to stay here and I’ll hop on a commercial flight tomorrow and meet you there, or we can get on the jet and help these women. So let’s save me the time and money and get going. These people deserve our help Emily, that’s our job right now,” the team stays silent but you can see their resolve cracking, Emily finally giving a nod that disperses the team. A look of anger crosses her face but you can see the fear that’s barely concealed. You step towards her, gently taking her hand.

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise and she sighs, placing a lingering kiss to the side of your head.

“You better be.”

xxxxx

“We need to hold a press conference,” Rossi says and you all nod, having been thinking the same thing. “Y/n needs to do it.”

That is where the agreement stops. You wouldn’t mind doing it, but everyone else begins voicing their concerns, nobody louder than Emily as she jumps out of her chair.

“Do you seriously think we’re letting him see her?” Emily snaps and you take her hand, pulling her back into her seat before she tries to lunge at Rossi’s throat.

“We all know this is the best idea. The profile doesn’t indicate that he’d be willing to try and grab me in public, but just in case I’ll wear a vest and I’ll have all of you to protect me. He’s not getting anywhere near me, but this is what needs to be done,” you try to sway her and you can see the conflict in her eyes. She wants nothing more than to catch this guy, but she won’t do it at the expense of losing you.

“I’m gonna be up there with you,” she says and everyone nods.

“We can do that. Morgan and Reid I want you taking pictures of the crowd to send back to Garcia. We know he’ll be there so be discrete, but get a shot of everyone there. Any questions?” Rossi has taken over the briefing and at the shake of your heads he dismisses the team. Morgan and Reid going to find their equipment, you and Emily sitting down to write the release, and everyone else scattering to set up the conference. In what feels like no time at all you’re on the stage getting ready to address the public.

“Thank you all for coming. As you all know, there is a predator in your community. Over the last several weeks, three women have been murdered…” you start your briefing. Emily stands silently beside you, sunglasses on and scanning the crowd. She looks more like your bodyguard than your girlfriend, but you let it slide. She’s nervous, and if standing next to you helps you’ll let her, that’s where she’s been the whole case. Your speech is long, definitely longer than it needs to be to get the point across but you plan on giving the team as much time as possible to scout the crowd. You continue sharing the profile, adding details and talking slowly until you hear a call through the coms that they’re ready. With that you wrap up your speech and exit the stage with Emily following behind you, both of you silently praying that this was enough to get the bastard.

xxxxx

“Samuel Finnigan. 1492 Beach road,” Garcia rattled off the address of your unsub as you all grab your vests and make your way to the SUVs.

“Thanks Garcia!” You end the call as you reach the parking lot.

“Woah woah woah. You are not coming with us!” Emily steps between you and the vehicles so fast you almost run into her.

“You mean you’re finally letting me out of your sight?” You can’t help the snarky reply. You’re getting really tired of this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps and you roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, trying to stop this from escalating.

“You’ve been attached to me all week. You’re always right next to me, and normally I wouldn’t mind that, I love spending time with you. But I can’t stand you watching me like I’m gonna snap in two. I’m fine. I’m a big girl, I can protect myself!” you yell, any sense of calm going out the window, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“That doesn’t matter to this guy! Until he’s in custody you’re not going anywhere near him.” you groan and run your hands through your hair. This is absolutely ridiculous.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m in charge here, and what I say goes,” her words make anger boil deep within you, she sounds like a child fighting for power, and you half expect to see her stomping her foot like a toddler.

“You can’t just switch from being my girlfriend to being my boss to win an argument.”

“I’m your unit chief first,” she says firmly and something within you snaps.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be my girlfriend at all!” There's a moment of heavy silence. Even the wind seems to die down, leaving the two of you staring at each other in the parking lot, both waiting for the other to be the first to break.

“You aren’t coming,” Emily’s tone changes. This is the voice she uses when lecturing recruits, not the one she uses with you, so you put on an emotionless mask. If she’s gonna pull the unit chief card, you’re not letting her see how much it hurts.

“Is that an order?” you ask and she sighs.

“Y/n. Please don’t make me-”

“Is that an order?” you ask again, cutting her off mid sentence.

“Yes. That’s an order,” she knows she’s won the argument, but a look of defeat crosses her face anyway.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here when you get back,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Y/n-” she takes a step towards you but you take one backwards, placing your hands behind your back and standing up straighter.

“You better get going, Unit Chief Prentiss.” She sighs again at your words but makes her way to the SUV. You can see the team staring at you through the windows and you lock your jaw at the looks of pity on their faces. They will not see you break. You won’t let them.

You don't go inside when they pull out of the parking lot. You need a few moments to compose yourself first. Looking up to the sky you try to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. You stay still for a few moments before hearing footsteps behind you.

“Sorry you just missed-” you cut yourself off. The man looking back at you is not a local officer, but instead the face from the DMV picture Garcia showed you. You drop your vest to move your hand to the gun strapped to your hip but he’s pointing one at you before you can grab it.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to follow me quietly and you won’t get hurt. At least not yet,” the sick smile on his face makes your stomach turn, but you nod. His smile widens and he gestures with the gun to his run down pick up truck parked behind the station. As the barrel of the gun is pressed into your back you take a few shakey steps towards the truck, weighing your options carefully. You wish you would’ve just put on the vest inside. You make a note to ask Emily about making that protocol if you get out of this.

The closer you get to the vehicle the more you realize you’re running out of time. In a split second decision you throw your elbow back, catching his nose as you try to duck out of the way of his gun. You manage to move enough that the bullet misses any vital organs, instead it goes straight through your shoulder. You scream in pain as he shoves you into the back seat of his truck. Blood pours out of your shoulder and your thoughts start spiraling as you slip into unconsciousness.

I’m gonna die.

Emily thinks I hate her.

I’m gonna die and Emily will never know how much I love her.

God I love her.

xxxxx

“He wasn’t there,” Emily tells the police chief as she enters the precinct and he nods. The rest of the team isn't too far behind, talking amongst themselves and debating their next steps.

“You still think it’s him?” a he asks the team, but another person speaks before any of them can.

“Where’s that other girl? Y/l/n, right? The one who looks like all the victims,” a rookie speaks and the BAU freezes, their attention snapping to him.

“What do you mean where is she? Is she not here?” Emily snaps and the poor man takes a step back, his fear clear as day.

“N-no. She went outside with you all. She never came back in. DId something happen?” He never gets an answer as Emily pulls out her phone and steps towards the conference room.

“Garcia I need you to pull the security footage from outside the precinct,” she says as soon as the line connects.

“I can do that. Why though? Do you think he was-oh god” Garcia cuts herself off and Emily’s jaw tightens.

“What’s happening Penelope?” Her voice has the same mix of anger and fear it’s held for days as she paces the room.

“I’m sending it to your tablets now,” Garcia’s shaky voice does nothing to calm their nerves as they all lunge for their tablets, watching in horror as you get shot, cursing themselves for leaving you alone.

“How the hell did these dumbasses not hear a gunshot right outside their door!” Emily yells, moving to storm out the door. JJ steps into her path, grabbing her shoulders to stop her.

“Emily, take a breath. You can go yell at the cops or we can sit down and figure out how to find y/n,” JJ’s voice is steady, much calmer than she feels, and Emily nods.

“Garcia, start looking for any properties in Finnigan’s name,” Emily orders and the team snaps into action. They’re going to find you, no matter how long it takes.

xxxxx

“No, that one was demolished, look,” Rossi slides a tablet in Reid’s direction. There’s a news article on the screen depicting a foreclosed property, half collapsed and surrounded with construction equipment.

“How has one man owned so many different properties in such a short amount of time? It’s like he was doing it intentionally, trying to make it harder for us to find him,” JJ’s voice is thick and scratchy, she hasn’t slept since you disappeared two and a half days ago, none of them have.

“He was definitely hiding from something, whatever it was. This is a man who doesn’t wanna be found,” Morgan says, tossing another empty coffee cup into the trash can that has long since overflowed. The team has lost count of how many pots of truly disgusting break room coffee they’ve made it through in the last few hours, Reid doesn’t think he’ll stop shaking for a month.

“I think I have something,” Penelope’s voice comes through one of the screens and they all snap awake. “His sister died 5 months ago, right before he started spontaneously buying and selling properties at an alarming rate, he clearly went on the run.”

“She must’ve been his first victim, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Who knows how many more victims there are that we haven’t even found yet,” Rossi says and Emily swallows hard.

“She looks like y/n, doesn’t she?” Even knowing the details of the case, it scares her to think he may see his sister in you.

“More than any of the others,” Garcia says, sending a picture along. The girl they’re all staring at could be your sister. You’re identical, right down to the way you style your hair. Under better circumstances Emily may joke about doing a DNA test to make sure you’re not actually related, but right now it makes her sick to her stomach.

“So we know why he’s doing this. Now we just need to figure out where,” Reid says and Penelope nods, smiling slightly.

“I may have that answer as well, this one fits all the parameters. It’s isolated, and he’s only had it for a few weeks, it’s definitely still standing,” she says, a bit of hope creeping into her voice. Even though she’s not there, she’s as scared as the rest of the team, if not more. They’re all a wreck, you’re family and they all have a feeling of terror that you may not be coming home with them. But none of them more than Emily. None of them feel the pain she does, but they’re all determined to make sure that pain is a temporary one.

“Send us the address,” Emily’s voice is firm and her fists clenched as they make their way to the SUVs once again, praying it’s not another dead end.

xxxxx

You know it’s them when there’s a banging on the front door of the cabin you’re being held in, it has to be them. The words “FBI open up!” are being yelled and you know you’re saved. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything as satisfying as the look of terror Samuel’s face as he takes off running. You hear what must be Derek kicking the door down before several sets of footsteps sound off through the house, Spencer being the first to appear in your line of sight.

“He went out the back,” your voice is weak, but he hears you loud and clear.

“Finnigan went out the back. I have eyes on y/n, you guys go get that son of a bitch.” You let out a weak laugh at that, you can count the number of times you’ve heard Reid curse on one hand with two fingers to spare. Unfortunately that laugh turns into a cough, and you’re quickly reminded of the extent of your injuries. The bleeding in your shoulder has never quite stopped and you have more bruises and cuts than you can count.

“Spencer. Tell Emily-” you pause, coughing weakly once again, “tell her I love her. Tell her I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it.”

“You tell her yourself,” his tone is harsh but you know it’s because he’s scared. As he takes a few steps closer to you he begins to frantically look around, for the rest of the team, for the medic he’s calling through his radio, for anyone. His head snaps back to you as your coughing continues. “Hold on, just a few more minutes.”

You nod at his words, your eyes starting to slip closed as he puts pressure on your shoulder. Your face scrunches up and you can feel tears starting to pool in your eyes, “Spence, stop. It hurts…please stop.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” his voice cracks but his hands don’t move. You can hear the someone jogging over, and you hope that means they have him in custody. It takes all the energy you have left to pull your eyes open again, seeing Emily’s face above you as she takes your hand.

“Emily I-” she shakes her head, cutting you off.

“I know, and I love you too. Just take deep breaths, it’s going to be okay.”

xxxxx

“Emily, I'm really sorry,” you whisper, hours later in a hospital bed with tears filling your eyes once again.

“I know. I am too. We both said things we didn’t mean, we didn’t want to hurt each other. It’s okay, love,” she says but you shake your head.

“It’s not okay. I almost died today and the last thing I would’ve said to you is that I didn’t want to be with you. I do. I promise you I do,” the tears start falling, but Emily is quick to brush them away.

“I know that. Even then, when you said that, I knew you wanted to be with me and I with you. I was so scared for your safety that I over reacted, and that reaction left you alone. If there’s one thing I learned from the last few days it's that we’re better together. We’re safer, happier, and stronger together. I wanted to do this later, maybe over a fancy dinner or a walk in the park, but now seems more appropriate,” Emily says and you furrow your brow as she reaches into her jacket pocket. Her smile is wide as she pulls out a ring, and the tears in your eyes are no longer from sadness. “Y/n, you are the love of my life and I almost lost you today. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that is. So, will you marry me?”

You nod as she slips the ring on your finger, laughing in disbelief. As soon as it’s done you crash your lips into hers. The kiss is salty from tears and is broken by your smiles, but it’s perfect.

“Yes, I would be honored to spend the rest of my life with you. Even if it means dealing with your ridiculous overprotectiveness,” you tease and she rolls her eyes.

“You know you love it,” she tries to argue but you just laugh again.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you breathe out, and Emily is happy to be the one taking orders this time.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

CM tag list: @reidingandwriting

#emily prentiss #Emily Prentiss x reader #Emily prentiss x female!reader #Emily prentiss reader insert #Emily prentiss fic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fic #looks

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theunreliablewriter · 4 years

Text

I’ll Always Take Care of You

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Warning: None. Just a bit of frustration then pure fluff.

A/N: This is a request, but I honestly have no idea what it exactly was. I had seventy-five percent of this written before Christmas. Tonight, I went to my asks, and it wasn’t there, so I don’t know if I deleted it or what. But I’m am unbelievably sorry this has taken so long. Life is hard and college is a bitch. I hope, even if this isn’t exactly what was asked for, you enjoy it! Please let me know if you do! :)

To say your throat felt as those you had swallowed shards of broken glass didn’t even scratch the surface of your symptoms and the agony you were in. Your body ached, despite not leaving the bed for a day and a half. Your head and sinuses throbbed. And you were still trying to figure out how a person could feel like they were sweating, while also being so cold all at once.

No differently than the previous night, you woke up just after 3:00am because the cold medicine had fully worn off, allowing your aches and pains to pull you from your already restless sleep.

As gently and quietly as you could, you slipped out of bed. You glanced back to ensure you hadn’t disturbed him.

Him.

The one and only person you not only could still bare to see, but genuinely wanted to, in your ill condition.

Most people thought such horrible things about him. They thought of him as violent, selfish, cruel, a murder...as an evil, soulless creature of the dark.

You were never sure what type of reaction those people sparked the most in you - heartbreak or anger. Whichever were both rooted in the same need. The need to defend him; the need to protect him. You knew he was none of those things. No, you didn’t support all of his actions, but unlike everyone else you understood them because you understood where they came from—pain. Inside of him, existed a well of pain so deep it made the universe seem small.

Flashes of those who believed so wrongly about him and of that well entered your mind as you looked at him, but they fleeted just as quickly as they entered because a smile couldn’t help but tug at your mouth. If he was known for anything else than his actions, it was his physicality. Seeing such a large man wrapped up in the blankets like a swaddled newborn, sleeping as if he didn’t have a care in the world, never failed to amuse you.

After taking in the site that distracted you from what felt like were bleeding scratches in your throat for a few more moments, you quietly exited the bedroom. You entered the kitchen hoping the remedy of tea would help sooth you this time, unlike the night before. After searching all of the lower and upper cabinets, you groaned in defeat and frustration from not finding the kettle. A second escaped you, when you realized there were a couple you hadn’t checked yet, but of course, they were the ones above the stove, which were also highest up.

Just as you began your climb onto the counter, a voice startled you by suddenly asking, “Looking for something?”

It wasn’t just any voice. It was deep. One many would describe a cold, but to you, it was nothing but the opposite. From the first word you ever heard him speak, it became the warmest sound you had ever known.

It was his voice.

Kylo’s.

You shot him a bit of a glare, when he softly laughed at how you jumped.

“Did you move the tea kettle?” You asked, each hoarse word stinging your throat.

His mouth curved into a slight frown, before he answered, “I put it up here, after I knocked it off the stove by accident.”

With ease, he reached into one of those cabinets and pulled out the desired kettle.

“But you don’t need tea, (Y/N). You need to see the doctor,” Kylo added.

“I’m doing better. No need for a doctor.”

“That’s ridiculous. You sound worse than you did yesterday. Hell. You sound worse than you did just a few hours ago.”

“No, I don’t. I have medicine. I’m fine,” you argued.

Similarly to how you had done before, and exactly like all of the times you had frustrated him in the past, he groaned, while running a hand through his messy, black hair.

“Can’t you stop being so stubborn just this once?” Kylo asked, although it partly soundly like more of a demand. “You’re just going to keep getting sicker and sicker, (Y/N)!”

“But I don’t want to go to the doctor! I just want some tea!”

“You don’t need tea!”

“Yes, I do!”

“I saw you had it last night, but clearly, I didn’t do you any good!”

“Well, fine! If you think I make it so badly, then you make it!”

If you had been watching this whole childish argument unfold as a fly on the wall, you would have laughed at the flailing arm motions Kylo made out of utter confusion over what you had just said.

“I never said you make bad tea!” Kylo defended himself. “All I am saying is you need something more effective than hot leaf water to get you well!”

With an annoyed huff you told him, “Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”

You returned to your shared room, deciding you didn’t need a doctor or tea to kill this cold. You’d just deal with it until it went away on its own.

In the back of your mind, you knew Kylo was right—you were being overly stubborn. It was a habit of yours to want to deal with things on your own. It wasn’t as strong as it once was though. After meeting and forming a bond with Kylo, you found yourself wanting—needing—him for help with more and more things. Surprisingly to yourself, you were okay with it because he relied on you in return. But all the while, you still had your moments where you gripped your independence with an iron fist, even if it wasn’t always best for your overall well-being.

You tossed and turned in the bed several times. Now, you weren’t sure if it was because of the sickness or how childish you acted moments before. Either way, you were certain you couldn’t get comfortable.

Several more minutes passed before you heard the door open and close softly.

“Here,” that deep voice said. “I added extra honey to see if it will have any effect.”

Kylo placed the large, steaming mug onto the nightstand as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

He released a frustrated sigh. “I only want you better, Y/N. I don’t want this turning into something more serious, which you are smart enough to know is possible.”

You could see immense concern written all over his face. His eyes were flood with nothing but what you always saw whenever he looked at you—even if was just a flash during the worst of moments—love. Everything Kylo ever did for you was out of pure love and devotion, and never did you doubt it.

“I know,” you finally conceded. “You’re right. I’m being stubborn, and I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m a grown woman. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Kylo promised with such tenderness.

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll go to the medical bay in the morning.”

“Why can’t I take you now?”

“Because. I need to see if this,” you held up the mug with a smile pulling at your mouth. “Kylo’s special recipe works first.”

He shook his head, but failed at containing his grin. “Tea will be outlawed in the First Order by the evening.”

“Then you better prepare for a fight you will definitely lose,” you playfully warned in return. “The Supreme Leader is no match for me when my favorite favorite drinks and foods are threatened.”

A defeated, yet joyful sigh escaped his throat. He, then, placed a firm, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t doubt you, my Queen.”

| Masterlist |

#this sucks and I’m sorry #and I’m sorry it’s taken me sooooo long #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #Star Wars #kylo ren imagine #kylo imagine #kylo x you #kylo ren fluff #x reader #imagine #star wars fanfiction #adam driver #adam driver x reader

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lightlia · 3 years

Text

And it breaks my heart

Pairing: Dream x reader (irl!Dream x reader) [They/Them] [mentioning Wilbur a bit]

Synopsis: What has gone wrong? Is it the fact that they are pretending to be happy or they’re never meant to be?

Inspired by: LÉON - And It Breaks My Heart [stream LÉON music!!]

Words count: 2.6k

[ANGST]

A/N: My first fic on this site, yay! Hope you like it! It could be cringing but bare with me, uwu! Feedbacks are accepted so if you have sth to say, pls do so. I literally didn’t save the damn thing and I had to type it all out again. Fuck me. I didn’t proofread it cuz i’m lazy and tired so enjoy reading this.

♪ Think of days when I was yours

Seems so long ago ♪

Y/N moved in their last stuff into their new home after successfully putting everything in their new place. They looked around the living room before sitting down on the floor. Holding in their am was a box with stuff that they were going to decorate. As they opened the box, it wasn’t the stuff that they would decorate with but a photo album, a sweater and a necklace in it. They held back their tears as they took out the sweater and the necklace and wore them. The sweater wasn’t theirs but it was Clay’s.

“Babe, have you seen my sweater? I can’t find it anywhere.” Clay shouted from their wardrobe, opening each drawer to find his sweater.

Y/N skipped towards their room, “Which sweater? You have like so many sweater.”

“The one with dinosaurs on it. The green--” Clay then turned around to see Y/N was wearing what he described. “--sweater.”

Y/N looked at Clay then down at their clothing. “This one?”

Clay then walked towards them with a grin on his face. “Well, never mind. I’ll find another one to wear. And by the way, you look cute in it. So keep it.”

Y/N was flustered and hid their face in the sweater. Clay wrapped his arms around them and his chin was on their head. “But it would look even better when it’s on the floor along with my clothes.” He smirked, causing Y/N’s cheeks to go red.

Y/N hit Clay hard with their sweater paws but to him, those hits were like patting. Clay then remembered something and jogged to their bedside drawer and took out a box. He took the necklace out and went back to Y/N. Clay went behind them and put it on for them.

“I saw it when I was out strolling with Nick. He said to pick the one with ‘Daddy’ on it but I’ll buy next time if you want.”

Y/N tiptoed to give Clay a kiss since the man is 6′3. “Thank you, Clay. I love it.”

♪ Now we're standing in the cold

Nervous when we talk ♪

“Goddamn it! I forgot to bring my umbrella.” Y/N cursed under their breath. They decided to walk through the park but the rain ruined it. They looked up to the sky who decided to rain on the day that they wanted to be away from the loud noises and they wanted peace and quiet before they went back to their workplace tomorrow.

“Should’ve had a roommate so they could pick me up when I call them.” Y/N took shelter under a big tree. Their clothes weren’t helping them shield their head and they were soaking wet from the immediate rain. They hung their head down and kicked the dirt beneath them, cursing the rain.

Then something shielded them from the rain, making them look up to see Clay with his umbrella out over your head. He got wet a bit now that the umbrella was above them.

“Hey.” Clay opened his mouth.

“Hi.”

Then silence surrounded them both. Y/N shifted around awkwardly to ease the silence around them.

"How are you?”

“I’m doing great. How about you? Find someone better yet?” Y/N asked back.

♪ Such a sadness in your eyes

And now you're looking down

You try your hardest not to show it

Yeah, I can't hold you, give you hope

'Cause I'm not coming home ♪

Clay then casted his eyes down but Y/N caught the look on his face, sadness. Y/N immediately apologized, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” He gave a fake smile to Y/N. “I couldn’t find one and I don’t need one.” He wanted to hug Y/N and asked them to rekindle their relationship but he couldn’t.

“So you’ve been single now for 2 years?”

“Yea. Do you like someone at the moment?”

“Yea, I found someone I like.” Y/N gave him a smile. “But I don’t want to tell him though.”

“Oh.”

Clay thought immediately of Wilbur. His initial thought was about Wilbur, probably Y/N liked Wilbur. Of course, they would like him. He was there for them, not physically. But Wilbur would call them to see if they were okay. Wilbur would also talk about Y/N a lot while he was streaming with Clay and others and told them that Y/N doing fine now, getting the job that they wanted and was in search for a new place to live other than her friends’. Y/N didn’t want to bother them so that’s why Y/N searched for a new place.

But what Clay didn’t know was that it was a lie. They couldn’t tell him that they still need him a bit. However, they moved on because they knew they weren’t meant to be.

“Let me take you home.” Clay offered and walked out the park with Y/N under his umbrella.

♪ And I wish that I could give you more

When you're leaving me an open door ♪

Clay had been neglecting Y/N a lot lately. They knew about his streaming career and they were very supportive of him. But lately, he had been neglecting Y/N and his food because of his streaming and uploading a YouTube video. Y/N would bring the food up to his office just for him to yell at them for entering his office. He would start missing out on their date nights and the most important ones, the anniversary. He would forget about them and go and hang out with someone Y/N didn’t know. While Clay was having fun with his new friend, Y/N was lying on their bed and crying to sleep. When he was given free times, Clay would be on his phone, typing something. Y/N would peek to see what he was texting but Clay would get up and go to his office, feeling annoyed at their behavior. Clay was never like this so what made him to be like this?

Then one day, Y/N walked past his office to overhear his conversation with George.

“No, George. You don’t understand. Y/N was never like this. Now they’re annoying. They would ask me whenever I got home like where I went and who I was with. They even brought up Olivia and I told them every time that she’s just a friend but they wouldn’t believe me.”

Feeling annoyed, Clay pushed his hair back and getting frustrated every time he mentioned Y/N.

“Yes, we are happy, George. No. George, you don’t understand. Yes, I know. I’ll talk to them whatever.”

This pushed Y/N to the limit. They tiptoed to the bathroom and just silently cried.

♪ And I wish that I could let you know

How it hurts me, too, that we're moving on ♪

Clay and Y/N walked down a couple blocks then turned the corner, arriving at Y/N’s place. Just as they had arrived, the rain stopped.

“So this is my stop. Thank you for walking me home, Clay.” Y/N smiled and he nodded. “Oh and the rain stopped as well. How convenient.” They looked up to the sky and laughed, making Clay laughed as well.

“No problem. Don’t want you to get sick after all.”

“Nah, I think I’m gonna get sick cuz I’m soaking wet.” Y/N pointed to Clay. “You’ll get sick too.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Y/N unlocked the door and got in. They were about to invite Clay inside but he held his hand up.

“It’s fine. I need to get back or Nick’s gonna starve.” Then Clay’s phone went off with someone calling him. He pulled out his phone from his inside of his jacket and he laughed. Clay answered and turned on the loudspeaker.

“Yea?”

“Clay, where are you? I’m starving like I’m gonna die.” Nick shouted into the phone and they giggled at his antics.

“I’ll be there in about 15 minutes.”

“Clay, you’ve been out for about 2 hours and I’m literally gonna--” Just that, Clay cut off Nick’s nagging and hung up the phone.

“He’ll be furious.” Y/N giggled.

“He’ll be fine. He’s just being too dramatic. I’ve lost a challenge against him and I had to buy his favorite.”

He held up the food package for Y/N to see.

“You’d better get home quick before he call you again.” Then Clay’s phone rang and they both knew it was definitely from Nick. They laughed once more.

“Alright, I’ll get going then.” Clay said and turned around but stopped to say the last thing. “It was great seeing you again.”

“You too, Clay.” Y/N waved their hand and Clay did the same thing, walking off to the distance.

Y/N watched Clay walking off until he was no longer in their sight. They closed the door and sat down at the door, not worrying about the dirty floor. Clay seemed like he had moved on and got a hold of himself. He was not taking well about the break up at first. So they were happy for Clay that he moved on but they were hurting themselves that they had moved on as well because Clay was everything to them.

♪ Oh, where do love go?

It's right in your hands, then suddenly gone

Oh, no, nobody knows where it disappears

And it breaks my heart ♪

Clay and Y/N sat at their dining table, eating peacefully before Y/N decided to break the silence.

“Clay, we’re not meant to be.”

“What?” Clay furrowed his brows and moved his hand to place on top of their hand. Y/N shook his hand off and continued talking.

“We’re gotta stop pretending we’re happy when actually we’re not.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“Clay, don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about. We both know our relationship is dying.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand.” Clay grabbed Y/N’s hand, caressing it.

“You neglected me, you forgot about our date nights and our anniversary just to hang out with Olivia.”

“Baby, I told you many times that we’re just friends.”

As calmly as they could portray, Y/N shook their head and pulled out their phone and slid it to Clay, showing him all the messages Olivia had been texting them.

“No, we’re just friends.” Clay shook his head this time.

“Well, have fun with her. I’ll move out tomorrow. You don’t have to send me off since I’m gonna annoy you.” Y/N got up and walked towards the door.

“Baby.”

“You said I’m annoying so I hope me not being here would no longer make you feel annoyed.” And then they walked out the door to find their friend parked their car outside, waiting for them.

Clay on the other hand, was shocked from the event. He didn’t finish his meal as he hurried to his office and dialed George’s number.

♪ Empty station, 2 AM

See your name on the phone

Sayin', "So good to see you, but it made me really miss you

It's hard to be alone" ♪

Y/N got off the train at 2 am after a night out with their friends at the newly opened bar. The station was empty and quiet, enough for Y/N to concentrate. They were sober as they found an empty seat and sat there, remembering that they had seen Clay at the bar.

Their phone lit up with a notification. Clay’s name was shown on their screen, showing that he has texted them. Y/N opened the text, reading ‘So good to see you, but it made me really miss you. It's hard to be alone.’

Y/N teared up and started to type back. They were about to send long sentences to him but decided against it and just sent ‘It was great seeing you again.’

♪ And if I only could, I'd go back in time

Take back every word, say I've changed my mind

But no, nobody knows where it disappears

(And it breaks my heart) ♪

Clay was there as well with his friends because they didn’t want their friend to be sad anymore. They had seen him sad for the last 4 months after the broke up so they dragged Clay out for a night out. Clay downed all shots into his system and got a bit drunk but he was conscious about his surrounding so when he turned around to look at other people, his eyes saw their figure a couple table from him. He couldn’t avert his focus elsewhere.

Y/N after downed the shots into their system, looked around the table to see Clay looking at them. They too couldn’t tear their eyes away from Clay before hanging their head down.

Clay wanted to go to their table and just talked to them once again but he knew he would mess up again so he just sat at the table and downed some more shots.

Y/N wanted to talk as well and maybe take back their words and want Clay back into their arms but they didn’t want it to happen again because they had gotten back together before, they had sworn that they would never hurt each other feelings anymore and if they break up again, they would let it go for real.

♪ And you want answers, but I don't have them

Say we were happy, so what happened?

Now you're acting like it's nothing, but it was something

You can't erase me, all the memories, you can't change them ♪

Y/N went back to Clay’s house to get their stuff out. They still got the key of his house and unlocked it. They opened the door and stepped inside. They walked to the stairway and turned to the living room to find Clay sprawling on the couch with booze on the table and their pictures scattered around the living room. He was asleep so Y/N took the opportunity and ran up to their room and organized their stuff.

As they finished packing the last box, a cough blurted out. Y/N didn’t have to turn around to see Clay standing by the door.

“Y/N, I don’t understand. We were so happy together. What went wrong?” Clay uttered.

“I don’t have the answer for that. You can find it yourself.”

“No, tell me. Why is this happening? I want to know why.”

Y/N sighed before getting up and walking out the door. But Clay grabbed their arm, preventing them from leaving the room.

“Let go, Clay.”

“Y/N, tell me.”

“I can’t tell because I don’t have the answer. Now if you excuse me.” Y/N tried to wiggle their arm out of his grip.

“Y/N!”

“Clay, we’re done.”

“WE ARE NOT!”

“Clay, we fell out of love. You just didn’t realize that yourself. Thanks for the memories, Clay. I don’t think I can’t erase them out of my head and I hope you won’t erase our memories or change anything.” With that, Y/N freed their arm from his grip and walked out their shared bedroom.

Clay dropped to the floor and let his tears flow down. Y/N could hear him sobbing from downstairs and left the house with their stuff.

♪ Oh, where do love go?

It's right in your hands, then suddenly gone

Oh, no, nobody knows where it disappears

And if I only could, I'd go back in time

Take back every word, say I've changed my mind

But no, nobody knows where it disappears

And it breaks my heart ♪

Even though they wanted to get back together.

♪ (But I don't have them)

(And it breaks my heart)

(Say we were happy)

(So what happened?)

(And you want answers)

(But I don't have them)

(Say we were happy)

(So what happened?) ♪

They both knew they weren’t meant to be together.

#dream #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dreamwastaken #dream x y/n #mcyt #my first fic #yoooo #i'm seriously so tired

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ad1thi · 3 years

Note

henlo adi tis i with a request for some stevetony fics,,, angsty if you have 'em 💓

okay so this rec list is mainly classic stevetony fics, but i assure you - there’s angsty ones in there (ive marked the angsty ones with a 😞 so you can identify them quicker) just a general note that a lot of authors are going to repeat, because there are some authors that (imo) are stevetony staples (so if you see an author more than once - thats a sign that ALL of their stevetony is good and ive cherry picked the ones i love the most) (ive also marked those authors with a 🌟)

in the light of limerence: @shell-heads

It's the final game of the season, their biggest one yet, and there's only one question on everybody's mind: who the hell is Captain Steve Rogers' boyfriend, and why does Cap keep dodging questions about him?

"You gotta admit it's suspicious that only Bucky and Sam have met your boyfriend, dude," Clint points out as he shoves Pietro away with a smirk, pulling the uniform over his head and tugging it down. "We've known you, what-two years? We've never seen the guy even once."

"And your phone mysteriously only has pictures of Tony Stark," Johnny Storm adds as he joins the conversation, knocking knees with Thor when he sits down on one of the benches. "Tony Stark, who has at least ten fansites and personally assured me he's had a boyfriend for the past five years."

"I can't believe Cap is actually out here acting like Tony Stark's boyfriend," Luke says with a smirk, resting against a wall without a care.

"I can't believe you guys still think this is a joke," Sam throws back while tossing his other dirty sock at Luke, who dodges it smoothly.

In little more than ten minutes, the biggest question of Shield University is answered with much aplomb by none other than Tony Stark himself.

almeno tu nell'universo: @silkspectred 😞 🌟 (funfact: this is the fic that got me into stevetony)

Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Rookie and Jailbait Take On The World: @theapplepielifestyle 🌟

“You really should be in school, you know.”

“Why would I be there when I could be here, solving crimes with my favourite rookie?” Tony flashes a grin, and Steve’s stomach twists like it did on the first day.

Teenager, Steve’s mind supplies. Definitely not legal, stop doing fluttery things, stomach.

Thumb, Index and Pinky Extended: @/Eudoxia 😞

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you: @mizzy2k

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

Celestial Navigation: @sabrecmc

Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.

Ironsides: @copperbadge 🌟

Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.

Paved With Good Intentions (I’m On The Road To Hell): @itsallavengers 😞 🌟

When the mysterious group of vigilante assassins known only as 'The Avengers' are tipped off about the dirty secrets that lie within Stark Industries, Steve Rogers has his heart set on taking out Tony Stark for good in order to protect the rest of the world from his evil. He's seen the footage, after all- Stark is a man who fights only for himself. And of course, when a job arises as chief bodyguard for Stark, to protect him from the growing threat of an ominously infatuated stalker, the opportunity is way too good for him to miss out on. It's the perfect placement, and the perfect way to find out whether or not their tipoff is genuine.

But as Steve falls into rank as the new bodyguard for Mr. Stark and he spends time getting to know and protect him, his initial hatred begins to falter and merge into something different, something far more terrifying than the prospect of killing the face of Stark Industries.

Steve Rogers may just be falling in love with him instead.

The Problem With Communication: @itsallavengers

Steve is terrible at flirting, but when he finally picks up the courage to talk to the adorable barista who makes his drinks, he finds himself hitting a small snag:

That being, Tony is deaf. He doesn't know what Steve is saying.

But never say Steve Rogers does not rise to a challenge.

Killing Me Softly (With His Song): @itsallavengers

Steve is Tony's whole world. Tony couldn't imagine life without him. They've grown up together, after all.

Steve gets cancer.

Open Field In Front of Him: orphan account

Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.

Good For You: @orbingarrow 😞

Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

COMPLETE 5/27/16 Edited to add art as last chapter on 6/23/16

Wrapped Up In Clover: @festiveferret

It's been seven years since Steve and Tony split up, and Steve's sure he'll never see Tony again. He's finally managed to put their failed relationship behind him and move on, focusing on his friends and building his business. But then his best friends, Bucky and Clint, decide to get married, and their wedding week at a cabin resort in Vermont turns into a minefield of heartbreak for Steve.

little green soldiers: @/nasa 🌟

“Rhodey,” Tony says. “I’m not stupid. He’s shipping out in three months. I’m not going to fall in love with him.”

Tony is a student at MIT; Steve is a soldier. They meet at a house party six months before Steve is set to deploy. This is their story.

flesh and bone: @/nasa 😞

“You or Rogers?” they ask, brandishing a knife or a gun or a flame.

“Me,” Tony says, over and over again. “Me, me, me,” always me.

Buried: @not-close-to-straight

When Howard Stark demands Tony work at a dig site in S.America one summer to "build character" and "learn about life", Tony is furious. But then he meets soldier/archeologist Steve and falls in love with blue eyes and a perfect smile.

Just as they are ready to move forward together, Steve leaves abruptly with no explanation and breaks Tonys heart. Ten years later, Tony stumbles across the file for the old dig site. He's determined to visit and shut it down, but discovers that instead of a village, the dig has uncovered a temple and actually needs MORE money to stay open. A security team is hired to protect the staff and the artefacts they find, and Tony comes face to face with Steve Rogers all over again– except Steve is bearded and BIGGER and way more dangerous than he used to be...And Tony likes it.

When the camp is attacked, Steve jumps into action, snatching Tony and running into the jungle to escape and work their way towards safety. But long days and nights together bring back old feelings, and one day Steve takes a risk and asks Tony to give them another chance. Will Tony say yes? Or is his heart buried too far for the soldier-turned- archaeologist-turned-mercenary to find it?

don’t know why it took me so long to see: @3799steps

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognising his boyfriend past a mask

Heartlines: @nanasekei 🌟

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.“

Feel Whole Again: @thepartyresponsible

Steve turns to leave. It’s easier to talk, somehow, when he’s not looking at him. “If you need anything,” he says, “I’m just a few floors down.”

“Might regret that, Cap,” Tony says to his retreating back. “I’ve been told I’m needy.”

Steve doesn’t know who the hell said that to Tony. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.

“It’s an honor,” he says, a little helpless, out of his depth and out of his time. “It’s an honor to be trusted with something like that, Tony.”

Attack Dog: @/salytierra

Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.

But it feels so good…

His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers/tony stark #stevetony staples #OKAY this is like 20 fics long #so im going to make a second post #and the second post will have more #but have these for now :)))#adi answers asks #rhodee

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mysingularitybts · 4 years

Text

Unexpectedly Expecting a Min Yoongi One-Shot

Pairing: Idol! Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: angst, romance

Warnings: none

The paper in front of you didn't lie, yet you stared at it in disbelief. While you had your suspicions, you didn't want to accept it. It's not that it wasn't in your plans because it was, but not so soon. After all, it had only been a few months since you had married Yoongi and between him being an idol and you managing your growing business, how was it all going to work out?

You read the paper so many times, staring at the bold letters spelling 'positive'. You were pregnant. How were you going to tell Yoongi? He was an amazing husband and a great person, but the thought of telling him still made you nervous because this was not in the plans. You could only hope he would react positively, and you were sure he would, but there was this pesky annoying voice in your head saying he would get mad or upset.

According to what the doctor told you you were twelve weeks along. One would think you would notice you were pregnant, but you have been so busy with work it hadn't passed through your mind that your period was late at least until a week ago. Realizing the situation you left work and quickly went to the pharmacy, bought a pregnancy test, and took it. It came out positive, however, you had to be a hundred percent sure so you went to the doctor. The wait for the official results had been agonizing and stressful not only because of the results, but because you went through it alone without Yoongi to support you.

Weeks have passed and every time you tried to tell him the words did not want to come out. They would get stuck in your throat, your heartbeat would quicken, your palms would get sweaty, and he just looked at you expectantly waiting for you to say something. When some words managed to come out of your mouth they were not the ones intended. Deep down you know you shouldn't be too worried because he loved you and while it was sooner than thought he would receive the baby with open arms. So, why were you so damn hesitant? It might be the fact that it was such a life-changing situation and it happened very unexpectedly might I add.

Sitting at home you were surfing through the channels looking for something to watch, but it was soon forgotten as Yoongi walked into the room.

"Hey babe, remember to pack your bags for tomorrow," he said as he sat beside you on the couch.

"Yeah they are almost done," you said unenthusiastically looking at him.

"What's wrong? You don't want to go camping?" he asked with a chuckle taking your hand into his.

It had become a habit for him to take your hands and play with your wedding ring. You had asked him about it once, and he said it relaxed him and that it was a reminder he had you by his side.

"It's not that it's just I'm not really in the mood," you sighed pitifully. Maybe he will let you off the hook this once.

"You'll have fun with the guys you'll see," he reassured, cuddling you and putting his head on your neck.

"There's no doubt about that," you laughed feeling his hair tickling you.

The boys were always fun to be around. Being with Yoongi for years now you have gone on trips with them and they never failed to amuse you. From losing passports to filming funny videos to getting matching shirts to getting drunk and blacking out. There was never a boring moment. But camping while being pregnant? It did not sound good at all. As of recently one of your pregnancy symptoms has been constant urination. Like every half hour. The thought of going into the woods constantly to pee didn't motivate you to go on that camping trip.

Yoongi and you were the last ones to get to the camping site. It might have been because you were dragging it out, sadly, you couldn't stop the inevitable. Getting out of the car the boys greeted you.

"Ah thank god you're finally here we need help with the tents," Jin exclaimed from his spot reading some instructions.

"Y/n, I'm so happy to see you it's been a while," Hoseok greeted you excitedly with a hug.

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle, "It's only been a week, Hobi."

"Yah that's too long," he complained, releasing a pained sigh.

Since you had taken so long to get there the sun was already going down and, surprise, you had to pee. Urgently. You peeked a glance to the woods, the trees were tall with big branches casting a darker shadow, you could faintly hear the rustling of the wind and the movement of small animals. Overall, the woods gave off a dark and scary look. Your mind started racing at all the things that could be out there, what if there were bears or you got lost? Thinking of what to do you had two choices: either suck it up and go alone or drag your wonderful and fearless husband with you. The latter was the way to go.

"Yoongi, honey?" you called walking over to where he was by a tent.

"Hmm," He was focused on assembling the tent.

"I need to go pee," you said sheepishly.

Seeing as he didn't react you nudged again, "I really need to go."

He only waved you off with his hand. You swear that man can sometimes be clueless. With an exasperated sigh you clue him in, "Come with me I'm scared."

Glancing up at you he understood. He got up and left Jungkook to finish building the tent. Jungkook will manage he thought to himself.

You walked far enough and did your business as Yoongi busied himself somewhere else to give you some privacy. Unfortunately for Yoongi, this happened many more times too many for it to be normal. Each time you dragged Yoongi along he got a bit annoyed but then he got concerned because while you tended to pee a lot it has never been to this extent. What if there was something wrong with you or you were sick? On one of the many bathroom breaks to the woods, he decided to ask you about it.

"Are you okay?" he asked as you walked back to the camping site.

"Huh?" you spoke at his sudden question, yet you saw it coming.

"You're peeing too much," he said with an obvious tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe it's all the water I'm drinking," you mentioned nervously. You didn't know how much longer you could keep this up. It was suspicious.

"Hold up, seriously," He stopped walking and turned to face you, "What is this about?"

"Um-well there is something I have to tell you," The gig was up, it was now or never.

"Is this what you have been trying to tell me for the past few weeks," he questioned you as he raised his eyebrows. There was worry in his eyes but he didn't let it show in his stance. Typical Yoongi.

"Oh, so you noticed?" you asked with your eyes widening seeing as you hadn't played it as smoothly as you thought.

"Of course, I know you better than I know myself," he said with a serious look.

"I decided to give you time and tell me on your terms," Yoongi shrugged.

"This is why I love you," you smiled at him.

"So, are you okay?" he nudged again crossing his arms.

"Overall yes but I-" It was happening you were going to say it. Of all the scenarios in your head, you hadn't expected to do it in the middle of the woods.

"I'm pregnant," you announced, your eyes not leaving him waiting for his reaction.

"I'm going to be a dad?" he unfolded his arms and went slack.

"Yes?" you gave him a nervous smile.

With a simple gummy smile, the biggest you have ever seen, your worries went away, and relief flooded your body.

"You. Have. Made. Me. So. Happy," he exclaimed as he hugged you and pecked you in between every word. The happiness you were feeling was overflowing as you laughed. Needless to say that little voice in your head was wrong all along.

"So, you are not upset or anything?" you asked making sure he was okay with the news.

"Why would I be?" Yoongi said as he pulled away from you, not letting your hands go.

"When we talked about kids, we had agreed not to have any for a few more years," you explained.

"It doesn't matter. They were always on the plan," he reassured, "It happened sooner than we thought, but we'll make it work."

"Is this why you were so apprehensive about camping?" he asked thinking back about your behavior.

"Yeah, I didn't know how it would go down with the pregnancy symptoms I've been having," you mentioned.

"You should have told me. I wouldn't have pressured you into it," he scolded you.

"It's fine," rolling your eyes, you began walking once again.

"Let's go home," he said, swinging your intertwined hands.

"Home?"

"Yeah, I can't keep taking you to the woods to pee," he teasingly said.

"yah!" you exclaimed with a smile.

"Will the boys be okay with us leaving?" You hoped they wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"They'll be fine, they love you," Yoongi said.

On the way to the boys, you had both decided to tell them the big news. Yoongi tried acting aloof, but you saw through it. He was so excited he couldn't keep the news to himself and wanted to tell his brothers. You found it adorable.

"Hey guys we are taking off," you announced grabbing one of the bags.

"What? Why? We only got here a few hours ago," Jimin questioned from his place by the fire, his cheeks and nose red from the cold air.

The others looked in your direction waiting for the answer. It was unlike you and Yoongi to leave so suddenly.

"Yes, but I have to take care of y/n," Yoongi said dubiously.

"Why is she sick?" Taehyung asked as he walked over to you and placed his hand in your forehead checking your temperature. With a laugh, you swatted his hand away and he gave you a pout.

"No, but she is pregnant," he revealed the corners of his mouth turning up into a big smile.

"Makes sense," Jin said, not having processed the words, "Wait, what?" he suddenly turned around, eyes open in surprise.

The reaction of the boys was a mix of gasps and shocked looks. In a heartbeat, all of the boys stood up and went towards you and Yoongi to congratulate you. They were all very excited for you and the new family member to come. They even started planning all the things they were going to do with the baby.

It was a happy moment you were surely going to remember for the rest of your life. Looking around to take it all in one more time you saw Hoseok and Namjoon patting Yoongi in the back while Taehyung and Jin fussed over you. Jimin and Jungkook talked excitedly between them placing bets on whether it will be a boy or a girl. Yoongi caught your eye as he gave you a joyful smile and mouthed an 'I love you'. Everything was going to be okay, your unreasonable worries staying in the past as you looked forward to the exciting months to come.

A/N: As always if you guys enjoyed it please make sure to like and reblog. Let me know what you think!

What would you have done? Told him immediately or wait?

See you guys later ;) 💜 x

-Nikki Marie

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yourfavewriteress · 4 years

Text

rocky road | jonathan toews

Teaser: “We gotta figure this out because I don’t want to keep fighting you every single day.”

Jonathan and I were currently in the middle of a rough patch. The Blackhawks weren’t doing as well as expected this late in the season. The transition from winter to spring was having its effects on my mood and migraines. Work is killing me everyday to the point where I hardly do anything once I get home except shower and get in bed. To top it all off, Jon and I have barely talked in almost two weeks, aside from the frequent bickering.

We have never been the couple that fights excessively. Jon isn’t the type to go back and forth over something small and petty. He doesn’t like to argue, he likes to talk. Whenever we crossed the line from having a conversation to bickering, Jon always suggested a pause to refocus the conversation and come to an agreement. Yet, lately our fights have been getting less conversational, and more unproductive.

The one thing that attracted me to Jon the most when we first met was how quiet and driven he was. He was a man in all aspects of the word and I loved that. While I dealt with the stresses of my job, Jon knew that I couldn’t be the trophy wife that many guys in the NHL desired. Although his job is a priority for him, my own job is a priority for me. I never felt like I was taking care of him, or him taking care of me. We were partners who have mastered scheduling their lives around each other, and the condo we had moved into seven months ago.

When I brought up our current relationship situation with my friends, they assured me that we were simply going through a phase “and, yes, even perfect couples like you guys have them.” I wasn’t unhappy with Jon at the moment, but we have definitely been better.

As I prepared myself for another day at work, I made my morning coffee and checked over the day’s schedule. While I would be gone until around 7 today, Jon had a busy day until 9:30. My coffee was barely finished before Jon appeared, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey,” He mumbled, walking towards the refrigerator.

“Morning,” I responded. As I waited, all that could be heard in the kitchen was the coffeemaker and Jon’s movements. I poured my finished drink just as he spoke again.

“Did you turn the thermostat down last night?”

“Is it too cold for you?” I watched as he looked over at me.

“I’m kind of used to it at this point,” He responded.

“I did turn it down before I got in bed, why are you asking?”

“Can we compromise and keep it above 60?”

“You live here, too, so if that’s what you want,” I shrugged.

“You really don’t have to be like that,” He sighed. “I’m just asking.”

“I’m not being like anything, Jon. Maybe you’re reading into things a little too hard.”

“You hog the blankets, which I don’t mind because I know you don’t do it on purpose. But it felt like the North Pole last night and I don’t want to get sick.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. We cannot let the star captain get sick when he has hockey to play,” I mumbled.

“Y/N,” He ran his hands over his face. “We gotta figure this out because I don’t want to keep fighting you every single day.” I didn’t say anything and Jon closed the fridge and looked at me. “You have to realize we can’t even talk to each other without arguing, right?”

“Mhm.”

“And, you don’t see that as a problem?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Are you seriously asking me that? I asked you a week ago to talk yet here we are.”

“I had a game that day,” He defended. “I had to focus on that.”

“I’m happy that you so boldly point out that hockey comes before me, especially when we’re both going through a tough time. But, what about the next day? I’m pretty sure you had two days off and we still haven’t talked.”

He looked down at the counter, “Hockey doesn’t come before you, you know that.”

“Say that to me when it’s actually true. Other than that, don’t lie to my face,” I grabbed my cup, moving towards the hallway. “I have to get ready for work.”

I walked back to our bedroom, going straight to the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I turned the shower on, beginning to get undressed. I sipped my coffee slowly as I let the water heat up.

As mature as I was, I knew I had my moments where biting my tongue would have been the better option. I would absolutely be respecting Jon’s wishes about the temperature of our room, because it was our shared space. But, he didn’t have to know that yet. Especially when I have already told him he could change the thermostat whenever he was uncomfortable.

I showered and brushed my teeth quickly, wrapping my towel tightly around my body. I exited the bathroom to see Jon buttoning his shirt. He looked up when I entered the room.

I moved to my walk-in, grabbing my clothes for the day. Rushing myself to get dressed, I stumbled around the closet for a few minutes. When I walked out, Jon was fully dressed, reaching into his bag.

“I’m not gonna be back tonight til after 8,” He said.

“I know,” I responded, brushing through my hair.

“Make sure you actually eat today,” He said, followed by the zipping of his bag. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” I did my best not to frown as Jon walked out of our bedroom.

In the past two weeks, I could count on one hand the amount of affection that we’ve shown each other. We used to kiss or be touching each other in someway at all times. But now, the only time Jon was within three feet of me was when we were in bed. I guess that’s a plus, that we still sleep next to each other. I would be lying if I didn’t notice the deliberate space between us under the covers, though.

As the front door closed behind Jon, I continued getting ready for work. Until I had to stop.

Washing my coffee cup in the sink, I felt the familiar sensation in my eye and head, signaling the migraine to come. I groaned to myself, pausing to down a full glass of water.

At the on-site of migraines, I always had a decision to make. I could either one, power through it and continue on with my day or two, call it and get back in bed. The frequency of my migraines increased with stress so I wasn’t surprised as my left temple began to pulse. Looking at the time, I had over an hour before I had to be at my desk and thirty minutes to leave our condo. Already feeling nauseous, I decided that today would be the day that I called it. I would have all day to recover, with Jon being gone, and I could get a much needed break from work and the world.

After calling my boss and explaining the situation to her, she agreed before I even finished. Annoyed at the fact that I was already dressed and basically ready to go, I changed back into sleep clothes. I didn’t realize until I walked past the mirror that my sleep clothes consisted of one of Jon’s shirts and a pair of his boxers as shorts.

Forcing myself to eat, I made a small breakfast of eggs and toast before climbing back under the covers in our dark room. In the past, I made sure to tell Jon when I was experiencing a migraine so that he knew. I wasn’t sure if it was anger towards him or my sleepiness but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. No message to Jon.

I spent the day in bed, slipping in and out of consciousness. Other than to use the bathroom, I stayed under the comforters as the sun set that afternoon.

I assume I slept through the entire day as I awoke to movement in Jon’s closet and the light on. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my eyes after them being closed for basically over 12 hours. Jon walked out his closet and I watched as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on me.

“Hey,” He said, noticing that I was now awake. He moved closer to my side of the bed, crouched down so we were at eye-level. If my head hadn’t of been hurting, I would have noticed how close he was for the first time in awhile. He searched my face, “Are you okay?”

“I have a migraine,” I mumbled.

“Did you eat?”

“A little,” I responded.

“You know you have to eat more than a little,” He said, standing up. “I’m gonna change and then I’ll make you something.”

“You don’t have to,” I sighed. “I’m sure you’d probably prefer to not be around me right now.”

“Not responding to that,” He called from his closet. “I always want to be around you, no matter what’s going on.”

I turned over in bed, pulling the covers back over me. “That sounded like a response, Jonny boy.”

The nickname slipped out before I could even think about it and when I looked back at him in his closet, he was smiling softly. I looked away just as I felt a smile creep onto my lips. It was the first time in a few days that our expressions towards each other were anything but annoyance or indifference.

“Can you see okay?” He asked after a few moments.

“Yeah, the aura went away a couple hours ago.”

“And, your head?”

“Pounding,” I said, simply. I heard Jon sigh before I felt his hand on my leg.

“Do you want to come downstairs to the couch?”

I nodded, moving to sit up. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” He shrugged. “Can we talk later though? I’ve been thinking a lot today.”

“I was being a bitch earlier, I’m sorry,” I admitted. “It was a simple request.”

“I’ve been an asshole for two weeks,” He responded. “This morning was nothing compared to that.”

He moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hockey is tough right now, I get that. We’ve been through this before, Jon. Work is kicking my ass, too, and it’s overwhelming,” I said. “I don’t know why we’re clashing so much but we know how to communicate. I know how to talk to you and you know how to talk to me, but…”

“...But, we're still fighting,” He finished, nodding.

“I know I can be a lot, and you have to worry about not only me but your team, too. I can’t imagine how much stress you’re under right now but you have to let me know what you need or want from me. I can’t just keep walking on eggshells while I’m stressed myself. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” He sighed. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I don’t ever want you to be walking on eggshells around me. You live here just as much as I do and I’m sorry for everything. I know I can forget to stop bringing hockey home with me every night and I’ve clearly been doing that. I’m not gonna make excuses for it because we already talked about this. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care if you bring hockey home. Obviously, I would like it if I didn’t have to sit through hours of guys slamming into each other on the ice, but I would do it if it’ll be helpful for you. I don’t mind watching hours of hockey. I know it’s a priority for you right now, and I don’t expect that to change. But, we’re a team. I want to help so you’re not beating yourself up every single day.”

He smiled, “I know.”

“It’s not just you, I know I can be better, too. When I’m stressed, I know I can be a handful and a half and you’re an angel for dealing with it. I’m not easy to talk to and you still take care of me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world,” He said. “But, I don’t care how much of a handful you think you are, I love you and that’s not gonna change.”

“I’m just sorry,” I mumbled, looking down.

Jon moved closer, pulling me into his chest. “I think you’re just being nice because your head hurts. I’m equally at fault for this, if not, more.”

I laughed against his chest, immediately regretting it as I was reminded of my migraine.

“I mean it,” I said once he pulled away.

“Okay, so we’re both sorry, and we’re both gonna do better, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” He kissed me and I sighed against him.

“I missed you,” I said. “Even though we’ve both been here.”

“I missed you,” He smiled, pecking my lips again. “But, your head still hurts so dinner first.”

He helped me out of the bed, wrapping his hand around mine as we walked downstairs.

“I’ll get you some water and bring it over,” Jon said as I sat down on our couch, leaning against the arm. I watched as he dimmed the lights in our apartment, looking over at me to hold up his thumbs in question. “Is this good for you?”

“Yeah,” I laughed softly. “Did you know the lights did that before you showed me this place?”

He nodded, smiling. “Thoughtful, eh?”

“I guess you could say that,” I shrugged. He walked over to me, handing me a glass of water.

“You don’t think I’m thoughtful?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“I think you’re a sap when you want to be,” I laughed, making my head throb. I flinched, leaning back slightly.

Jon leaned in, pressing his lips to my temple. “Stop laughing at me, you’re making your head worse.”

I puckered my lips to him in response. He smiled, shaking his head while standing up straight. “You’re trying to distract me. I have to get you something to eat and then I’ll kiss you.”

“That’s unfair,” I whined.

“Once you eat, I promise you’ll have my full attention, baby,” He laughed. “So needy.”

“Hurry up, Jonathan. We have a lot of making up to do.”

280 notes · View notes

kyouxa · 4 years

Text

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 14 + CG)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Shu: Ngh!

Kino: You know you can’t win with a brute force approach, right? Ha!

*Kino throws dagger*

Shu: Nn… ! I’ll make sure to fully deal with you exactly that way then.

Monologue

Kino-kun has been magnificently defending himself against Shu-san’s raised sword, and the space he created while doing so was used for him to counterattack with another dagger.

However, Shu-san was luckily able to step outside the danger zone Kino-kun’s attack created.

While I watch both of them fight, I secretly pray for them to stop, and yet none of both sides shows any sign of giving up.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Kino: Kch… you’re unexpectedly good… but how will you dodge this one!?

*Kino throws another one*

Shu: Your movements are monotony.

Yui: (Good, he avoided another attack… !)

Kino: Don’t act so full of yourself. Just because you’ve been sleeping everyday, you shouldn’t act so surplus with your strength...

Shu: Seems as if you’re slowly getting anxious. You mustn’t be good at proofing your strength, are you?

Yui: (Both of them seem to have equal strength, but they also seem to slowly run out of breath…)

(However, I still know Shu-san has at least some superiority. If he continues to fight in this state… !)

Kino: Tch… he’s really unexpectedly strong...

…That’s it. I think I came up with a good idea.

Yui: (Eh… Kino-kun… why is he looking over here now?)

Shu: ...Don’t tell me

Kino: I’ll make sure to take the most important thing from you first then!

*Kino throws dagger*

Yui: Kyaaa!?

(The dagger is flying right over here!!)

Reiji: Damn it!

Shu: Fuck!

*Shu protects Yui*

Shu: Are you alright… ?

Yui: Shu-san… !

Kino: Fufu… that’s no good. You make it even easier for your rival to get a chance!

*Kino throws another dagger*

Shu: Ngh… !

Yui: Shu-san!

Kino: Fufu… you still don’t have enough? I’ll deal with your wretched self until you can only crawl then!

*Kino throws two more*

Shu: Aghh!

Yui: Ahh, stop!

*blood drops*

Shu: Don’t… worry… it just cut the side… of my arm a little...

Yui: ...Nn! You’re obviously lying to me… Nn, you’re also clearly losing a lot of blood right now… !

Kino: Yes, Yes. And you even were close enough to finally receive your highly wished checkmate!

*Kino throws two more*

Reiji: Kch… !

Yui: Reiji-san…

Reiji: I am terribly sorry, I can barely protect you with my hand already being at its limit. I do not know whether or not I can repel them all...

As we are right now, we are the same as hostages. This place is now completely under his control, it allows Kino to aim for us at any point.

Yui: Nn, then the inside of this room is—

Kino: Have you considered escaping from here? If you’d like to get covered in a concentrated fire of daggers, why don’t you try it?

Yui: ….. ! You’re playing an incredible unfair game!

Kino: Whether it’s unfair or not, I wouldn’t want someone to cause a disadvantage with protecting another, while the others are on the wage of war.

It’s not difficult to understand that your brothers are merely hindrances for yourself now too, you should be aware of that by now, huh?

Shu: ...They’re a hindrance? Don’t be stupid...

I’m only here to fight you, for the sake of protecting those guys!

*Shu stabs Kino*

Kino: Aghh!

Yui: (He caught up to the distance Kino-kun created in an instant… !)

Kino: Ngh, how dare you do this...

Shu: You can’t only win with your pathetic sword technique. Even if I’m simile to a hostage that you can damage,

You should give up on clinging onto those useless delusions about being the successor to this old man’s powers.

Kino: Useless… ? What has been useless about it!?

What does a blessed person, who naturally has everything in his life, understand about any of this anyway… !?

You, who always had sheltered upbringing, and never experienced disgrace put over yourself!!

*Kino activates something*

Shu: Nn… !

Yui: W-What’s that!?

(Some sort of semi-transparent light is surrending Shu-san’s position)

*Shu falls over*

Shu: Ngh… you… what did you surround me with… Nn

Kino: This has been created by the church, it’s a magic spell that summons a talisman to catch a vampire while being chased.

Once a vampire is confined within this power, he’ll lose the strength to move.

I’ve been saving this in case of an emergency, since it’s limited to only be used once.

Shu: Why are you even possessing this sort of thing to begin with...

Kino: Who knows? This shouldn’t be worth worrying about now anyway, right?

Even if you try struggling with this magical spell on you, you won’t be able to pass through this barrier until a certain amount of time has passed.

Right now you’re as unable to move as a dartboard getting hit with darts!

*Kino throws dagger*

Shu: Aghh!!

Yui: No, stop it! Shu-san!

Reiji: Shu!

Shu: Nn… don’t come closer, Reiji!

That guy just waits to be able to aim for you as well… so don’t move an inch from over there.

Reiji: Kch… but!

Kino: Look, Look, I wonder how many you can take? I won’t allow you to die so easily on me, ha!

*Kino throws another one*

Shu: Ah… !

Yui: No! Stop it!!

(Shu-san’s whole body is completely stained with his own blood already… he’ll be killed if things continue to go like this!)

Ayato: That guy… why is he so desperately fighting, while also risking his life to protect us… ?

We’re enemies, and yet this shit doesn’t make sense.

Yui: ...Because you’re siblings...

Ayato: Hah?

Yui: I know you argue with each other every now and then, and I’m also aware of all the things that have happened in the past to you.

*Yui starts crying*

Yui: But, still… even if not all of you are related by blood, you’re still siblings...

Shu-san doesn’t want to lose anyone who's dear to him anymore… !

Ayato: ...What are you crying for now… ?

Subaru: Siblings that aren’t related by blood...

*weird sound*

Subaru: Ngh, kch… !

Yui: (Eh… ?)

*weird sound*

Ayato: Fuck… ! What’s this… Nn

Reiji: What is the matter with them!?

Yui: Now that you say it, everyone is… !

Shu: Shit… this barrier… sucks…

*Shu tries moving*

Shu: Ngh…

Kino: Hahaha! Must be awful to have no control over your body, but serves you right!

C’mon, will you be even more worn out when I send another dagger flying your way? I wonder if you’re able to avoid it this time!

*Kino throws another dagger*

Shu: Aghh…

Yui: Shu-san!!

(If this continues, Shu-san will…)

(I don’t want… I don’t want to see Shu-san get any more injuries than he already has… !)

Kino-kun… ! Stop this already!

Kino: You want me to stop at the most fun part of this all?

Moreover, it’s useless screaming. It already has been settled that this guy has lost this game.

You can’t do anything else other than stay silent, and continue to watch the show.

Choices

1) We won’t give in yet (white)♡♡♡

2) Please stop this (black)

— We won’t give in yet♡

Yui: This hasn’t come to an end yet...

Shu-san would never lose to anyone who only plays this sort of dirty tricks… !

Shu: ….. !

Kino: No matter how much of an idiot you are, can’t you see that I’m the winner of this?

Now that I’ve brought down Shu, I can finally become the king… I can finally become his successor. And I won’t let any of you be a hindrance in my way any longer.

Yui: That’s not true! I know Shu-san would never lose to someone like you. I know because he promised it to me...

That’s why I’ll keep believing in Shu-san, even if it’s until the very end… !

— Please stop this

Yui: Please stop this! If things are continuing as they’re now, he’ll die!

Reiji: Wait!

*Reiji grabs Yui*

Reiji: Did you forget the promise you have made with Shu?

Yui: Reiji-san…

(That’s right… I promised to believe in Shu-san, even if it has to be until the very end)

Shu-san… !

I still believe in you being able to win this, Shu-san!

Shu: Ahh… Thank you.

end Choices

Kino: Aren’t you sick of not being able to stop that farce by now? It’s really starting to annoy me.

I’ll make sure to crush your hope and aspiration all together then. You’ll witness all of it before your own eyes.

*Kino pulls another dagger*

Yui: (Nn, another dagger… Shu-san, please avoid it!)

Shu: Tch…

Reiji: No way… he cannot possibly stand up in his current condition… !

Yui: Such...

Kino: Now, let’s officially get rid of this pitiable appearance right in front of everyone!

???: Stop it!!

Yui: Eh…

Kino: Huh… ? Just now, who?

Ayato: Finally snap out of it already. You can’t just do whatever pleases you...

Shu: Ayato… ?

Ayato: What are you doing, man!? Hurry and get up!

Bastard, what sort of an elder brother acts as if his self-importance is worth being thrown away even after hearing this!!

Yui: ...Huh…

Shu: You remembered…

Yui: A-Are you sure?

Ayato: I sure am! When I saw that dull guy during the time I was worn out, it came together in my head...

I honestly got no idea about what’s going on or whatsoever. But even if I don’t, I seriously won’t forgive you if you lose!

Hey, Shu! Stop pitying yourself already, that’s an order!!

Shu: Ayato...

Kanato: That’s right, I’m very much close to losing my patience too. Didn’t we all refuse to come to this place to begin with?

Although Reiji was the one arranging this plan, why is it that such a thing happened… how unforgivable.

Laito: I at first thought skipping this sort of event, may end up being enjoyable. But I don’t feel like taking part in this game anymore.

Come on, big brother. Do your best for the sake of your younger brothers, okay?

Shu: Kanato… Laito…

Subaru: You haven’t lost as long as you didn’t die! Get yourself together and beat him! Shu!!

Shu: Subaru…

Yui: Did everyone… finally remember… ?

Reiji: It appears as if seeing Shu desperately fight in front of their eyes, triggered something that successfully brought their memories back.

That’s sincerely why he is an unpleasant person to me. That person must have fascinated the others with being so determined to its goal.

I sincerely get fed up thinking how I, myself… am no equal match to this man.

Shu: Fufu… those guys…

Kino: Why… their memories shouldn’t return back to themselves this easily, but yet they still managed to remember.

♡ Roses ♡

Shu’s shoulder: Seems as if I’m still the eldest son, no matter how much I’ve messed up so far.

Shu’s sword: I've not been defeated yet, so there’s no need to make such anxious expressions. Just keep staying behind me, even if anything unpredictable happens.

Shu: It’s strange. But maybe this is the true strength that lies between the siblings’ bond?

Kino: ...Ngh. This gives me the creeps… and yet, I won’t let you have your way!

Shu: If so, I’ll tell you something. I’ll bring you down in order to proof something to you.

— I’ll prove that this fight between siblings is over. And I’ll be the one ending it.

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 9: buried alive

BURIED ALIVE

“So, while we’re just hanging out in the bathroom,” says Tony. Peter’s head hangs over the toilet, and he shuts his eyes tight, willing Tony to stop talking. “I thought we could chat.”

“Maybe that can wait,” says Peter, dryly, and miserably. “Until, I dunno, I’m done puking my guts out.”

“It’s waited long enough. Besides, you never call me back, and you won’t talk to your aunt.”

Peter's guilt over a recent run in with Mysterio literally makes him sick.

BURIED ALIVE flashes in neon letters across the screen, the techno theme music plays, and Peter’s eyes glaze over. He’s officially entered The Zone, and there’s no pulling him out of it until his character dies or he achieves the highest honor, a score enormous enough to knock MQB off the hall of fame.

His hand clutches the joystick, and his fingers glide across the buttons, and he can feel Ned staring at him, but it doesn’t distract him from the current mission.

It doesn’t help him, either.

This game ends exactly the same way every game before it had, on level five, when he’s only points away from taking first place away from MQB.

He sighs, and reaches a hand in his pocket, searching for more tokens but finding it empty.

“Shit,” says Peter. “I’m out of tokens.”

“Again?” asks Ned. “How many times have you played this? Exactly?”

“I dunno, not that much.”

Ned doesn’t look like he believes him. He looks worried, and Peter tries to shove the annoyance he feels deep, deep down.

He wishes people would stop looking at him that way. Like he’s just one fall away from breaking and shattering in a way that’d leave his pieces uneven and unfit to be put back together the correct way, the uniquely Peter-way.

“Maybe we should do something else,” says Ned. “Go to a movie, or pick up that limited edition Star Wars set?”

It’s tempting, and Peter wants to go, wants to be anyplace but this arcade, going to war with himself over a some stupid high score on some arcade machine. An environment without all the flashing lights, screaming children, and annoying game music would be a nice change in pace, but he can’t.

He has to stay. Until he’s won. Until he wipes that name off the charts and replaces it with his own.

“I need more tokens,” says Peter, as a way of answer. He hopes the way his voice sounds like a zombie will go ignored.

He walks past Ned, and heads towards the token machine, dodging running, shouting kids on his way. He fumbles around with his wallet, until he finds the credit card Tony had given him for emergencies. Not for the first time, he swipes it at the token machine and receives a hundred new chances to defeat his enemy.

If that isn’t an emergency, Peter doesn’t know what’s supposed to make that list.

When he turns, he comes face to face with Ned.

“Dude,” he says. “Maybe you should take a break. Have you even eaten dinner yet?”

His stomach growls at the mention of food, and his eyes automatically drift towards the restaurant installed into the arcade. He supposes Ned has a point. He can afford to stop his gaming long enough to scarf down some pizza.

“Yeah, okay, good idea.”

Relief washes through Ned’s features, and Peter’s stabbed with guilt. It attacks him from all angles.

He’s guilty for worrying his friends, and his family, and guilty because he doesn’t know how to stop. He’s guilty of the wave of crime overtaking Queens now that Spider-Man has abandoned it, in favor of standing still at an arcade game.

Guilty for that thing he doesn’t allow himself to think about.

Most of all, he’s guilty, because instead of working towards wiping away the current charts on BURIED ALIVE, he’s sitting at a table eating pizza, wasting time.

Drops of sweat trickle down his forehead, and a shiver runs through his body.

And he tries ignoring it, the way his stomach is heavy, and cramping, and the way his body is just begging him to take a seat, close his eyes, or more pressing, run to the bathroom and shove his head in a toilet.

But he doesn’t, because he can’t. Because he’s just so damn close.

When game over flashes across the screen, he slams his fist down. He considers what might happen if he didn’t hold back his strength, if he just destroyed the machine right then and there.

“Peter?”

He stared at the screen., refusing to look away.

“You’re not looking so great, kid.” Tony’s hand comes up from behind him, and presses down on his sweaty forehead. “Yep, that’s a fever.”

“Mr. Stark,” says Peter. “What are you doing here?”

“Ned called me,” he tells him. “He was really worried, and so am I.”

Tony wipes the sweat off his hand and into the insides of his suit jacket.

It’s the first time in awhile Peter takes his eyes away from the screen, and the room blurs. All the flashing, neon lights merge together. All the kids, teens, parents combine into one collective shout that threatens to make his ears bleed. The arcade tilts, and the knot in his stomach is pulled tighter.

“I need to get outta here,” says Peter, a shake in his voice.

“Then come on,” says Tony.

He grabs him by the arm, and leads him through the jungle of prize hungry children, beeping game machines, and parents trying to ignore it all.

Fresh, cold air hits Peter’s face when they step outside the door, and he breaths it in, then he bends over and pukes in the on the sidewalk while strangers watch in disgust, while Tony rubs his back, and while the paparazzi snaps photos of Iron Man comforting some poor, sick kid.

“So, while we’re just hanging out in the bathroom,” says Tony. Peter’s head hangs over the toilet, and he shuts his eyes tight, willing Tony to stop talking. “I thought we could chat.”

“Maybe that can wait,” says Peter, dryly, and miserably. “Until, I dunno, I’m done puking my guts out.”

“It’s waited long enough. Besides, you never call me back, and you won’t talk to your aunt.”

It just figures. That there’s so avoiding it now. That there’s not even a proper distraction to keep him from the things he’s not trying to think about.

That day comes back to him and hits him with full force, as if were angry Peter had been suppressing it.

His memories are pulled backwards to Mysterio’s twisted game. That dull, grey day the fishbowl guy taunted him with a devastating choice, save May fall from a skyscraper, or save a stranger from suffocating six feet under the earth.

His failure flashes across his mind.

He’d thought he could save both, but he’d still made the decision to go after May first. Once she was safe on the ground, he had bolted to the burial site, only to dig up a man who was already dead.

He’s selfish, and he’s sad. All this bad will stirs his stomach enough to force his head back in the toilet to throw up some more.

Tony rubs his back until he’s finished with his gagging. He puts the toilet lid down, and flushes, and he leans against the toilet, weak and wanting the pain in his stomach to ease so he can sleep and not exist for awhile.

So he can continue avoiding the conversation Tony keeps trying to force him to have.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” says Tony. “That fucking psychopath created that situation to fuck with your head.”

“But I’m Spider-Man,” says Peter. “I should’ve been able to deal with it, without - someone dying.”

“Can’t save them all, kid. No matter how hard you try.”

It’s as if Tony’s words bounce off him. He hears them, but he doesn’t. They don’t sink in. He won’t allow them to, and it’s as if Tony hadn’t spoken at all.

“Suppose I deserve this,” says Peter. “Feeling this way.”

He isn’t sure if he means the stomach cramps, or the guilt, or both, but the alarm that flashes across Tony’s face only makes the stabbing pains worse.

“You only deserve good things, Pete,” he says. “I don’t know how to convince you to believe it.”

When he opens his eyes the next morning, his stomach is peaceful, but his memories are hazy. They exist, just vaguely.

And it’s better that way, really. Puking and crying on the bathroom floor while Tony held him and told him it would be okay weren’t exactly his finest hours. Peak teenage embarrassment that he hopes will go forgotten, or at least unmentioned, in future conversation.

He’s ready to crawl and hide under the covers when the guest room door creaks open, but he stays visible when he sees it’s just his Aunt May walking through the doorway, carrying crackers and a mini bottle of Sprite.

“I hear you had a rough night,” she tells him. She puts the sick people snacks on the nightstand. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.”

May’s face folds into disbelief, and Peter releases a breath, realizing there’s no avoiding it anymore. Not after last night.

“I’m sorry, May.”

“About what?”

“About Mysterio.”

She sits on his bed, and takes his hand. “From what Tony’s told me, you’re tired of hearing it, but I’m going to stress again that that wasn’t your fault and you will not accept responsibility for what some demented man cooked up in his free time, okay?”

“But May -”

“If someone asked me to choose between my own life and somebody else’s,” she starts. “You know I would choose theirs. We’re Parkers, and that’s what we do, for better or for worse, but if someone forced me to choose between a stranger’s life and yours? Peter, that’s not even a choice, it’s an instinct.”

“But May I should’ve -”

She squeezes his hand, and cuts him off, a second time. “You have to let this go. You weren’t being selfish, and you did everything you could’ve done. It’s not your fault. You didn’t kill anybody.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument, so he doesn’t try. He lets her hug him, and even hugs her back. He even feels a little lighter now that he’s been ordered to move on.

Tony’s idea of helping is to throw money at it. He goes to the arcade and pays them a ridiculously large sum of money for the BURIED ALIVE game machine.

It’s sitting in the workshop when Peter arrives for their lab hours, along with giant hammers and other tools of destruction.

“I think they do this in therapy,” says Tony. “Something about getting it all out. Healthy destruction. All that.”

“They let you break things in therapy?” asks Peter, apprehensively taking the hammer from Tony.

He’s gotta admit, he’s warming up to the idea of letting Tony pay for a therapist, even if he knows he only said it for that very reason.

“Sure,” says Tony. “Why not?”

Peter stares at the game. The thing he’d been using to distract himself from his misery. The thing he’d become obsessed with as a way to relive the past, take some control. Of course, getting the highest score would’ve never brought back the man Mysterio killed, but obsessions weren’t exactly rational.

“I have a better idea,” says Peter.

They spent the next few hours taking the game apart, piece by piece, and then, and until late in the night, they use the parts to build a new, better game. Something that Ned has to come over and help them program. Something with a less morbid topic.

And Peter starts to think better, feel better.

There’s something cathartic about taking apart the horrible things and turning them into something new. It’s a breath of fresh air. It’s a sense of hope, for himself, that eventually he’ll be able to take May and Tony’s reassuring words and believe them.

#febuwhumpday9 #irondad #irondad fic #Tony and peter #sick Peter parker #vomiting

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Marichat/Adrienette: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Fifty

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...out of love.

“Stop moving around so much,” Plagg grumbled as he snuggled up against the crook of Adrien’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” Trixx admonished groggily, burrowing further into the nest he’d made out of Adrien’s hair. “He’s got a lot on his mind; it’s no wonder he can’t sleep.”

“Thinking about the wedding tomorrow and how you’re going to smooch the love of your life in front of all of your friends and family?” Plagg snickered, giving Adrien’s shoulder a playful nip.

“Thinking about how Marinette is making the biggest mistake of her life,” Adrien snorted, twisting his engagement ring round and round on his finger, watching the EKG heartbeat-like line as it dipped and soared around the center of the band.

“Don’t say that,” Plagg commanded, flying up to stare Adrien down with a scowl.

Adrien shrugged, avoiding Plagg’s gaze. He pulled off the ring and looked at the inscription on the inside of the band: Home. Love. Family. Forever.

“She could do better,” he muttered.

“But she picked you,” Trixx reminded softly, petting Adrien’s hair.

“You’re just psyching yourself out,” Plagg diagnosed. “Stop fretting, Kid. Go to sleep, and things will look brighter in the morning. You’ll marry your girl, have a big party with lots of tasty food, and everything will be alright.”

Adrien hummed noncommittally in response, closing his eyes in order to make another attempt.

Fifteen minutes later, when Adrien was still tossing and turning, Plagg gave a resigned sigh. “Okay. Clearly, this isn’t working. Let’s go for a run and burn off some of your nerves.”

Adrien gave a mirthless chuckle, turning onto his side to gaze at Plagg melancholically. “Man, I must be pretty bad if you’re volunteering your services so willingly.”

Plagg rolled his eyes, waving away the suggestion. “You’re just driving me nuts, and I want to get some sleep. Think of this as a wedding present.”

“Plagg’s really a big softie,” Trixx chortled, tail flicking mischievously. “He just doesn’t want anyone to know, so he puts on the obnoxious, slothful act.”

“Hush, you,” Plagg hissed, his own tail giving an annoyed twitch. “There’s no acting about my sloth. I really am this lazy, thank you very much.”

“I’d believe it,” Adrien snickered, the laughter breaking through his glum mood. “All right. Let’s go for a run. I guess it can’t hurt anything. Plagg, transform me.”

He spent the first ten minutes or so of his run aimlessly leaping from rooftop to rooftop, dodging antennas and hopping over chimney stacks, seeing how fast he could go in an attempt to burn off some energy and tire himself out.

He soon got bored of that, however, and decided to make his way to the Eiffel Tower, a site of various special moments including the time five years prior when Marinette had arranged a picnic and told him that she loved him for the first time.

He bounded to the top of the tower, flying from girder to steel girder until he found himself at the pinnacle of the monument.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t alone.

Marinette’s eyes widened at her partner’s unexpected arrival, but then a warm smile stretched across her lips and all the way up to her eyes. “Good evening, Chaton. What a lovely coincidence meeting you here.”

“Likewise, My Ladylove,” he chuckled, giving her a supernova grin in return. “Though, I think it’s more morning than evening at this point.”

She shrugged, motioning for him to join her.

“Aren’t you cold?” he couldn’t help but ask as he came to stand beside her at the railing, observing her thin, cotton pyjamas and little cardigan that couldn’t be keeping out the slightly chilly breeze. “It’s kind of nippy up here.”

Marinette shook her head as she gazed out at the city sprawling before her. “I like it, actually. It makes me feel alert. I won’t stay up here untransformed long, though, so don’t worry.”

He slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his side to share a little of his warmth. Despite what she said, he could see her beginning to shiver.

“Do you mind me asking what a pretty girl like you is doing all by your lonesome in a place like this at this time of night, or is that being too forward?” he inquired playfully, giving his eyebrows a waggle.

Lightly, she slapped his arm, shaking her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I just had a lot on my mind, so…”

“…Like…what?” he tentatively pressed, the teasing tone gone from his voice now as he wondered if her head was filled with worries like his.

She shrugged. “How everything’s going to be different after tomorrow and how I don’t think I’m ready. Like…we’ll be officially moving in together, and what if the kitchen faucet starts leaking?”

Chat blinked and began to open his mouth to tell her that the building supervisor took care of upkeep and things like that, but she spoke again before he could, her worries snowballing and carrying her away with them.

“I don’t know how to fix a leaky faucet,” she reported anxiously. “I know you call someone, but Maman and Papá are always the ones to arrange for things like that, and I don’t even know how they find the person, so…and there’s grocery shopping and paying bills and keeping the apartment tidy and making all of our own meals and starting a family, and what am I going to do if the kids get sick?” she gasped as if suddenly realizing that this was an important issue that she had failed to attend to.

Chat had to smile at her penchant to get way ahead of herself.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he cooed, leaning in to press a comforting kiss to the outer shell of her ear. “We’ll figure it out. I mean, we could always call your parents if we have questions, but I’ve been living on my own for almost four years now, and I haven’t died yet, so…I think, whatever comes our way, we can take it on together. We’ve proven ourselves to be a great team over and over again. This is just one more thing where we’ll have to pool our strengths and figure it out together…right?”

Slowly, she started to nod as she absorbed his words.

Her worry receded as she called to mind all the other times they seemed to be facing down unbeatable odds together. They had always made it out so long as they fought side to side, so why should surviving adulthood be any different?

“You’re right,” she realized, her easy smile coming back as she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. “We can do this…. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Any time you need it,” he promised, catching the top of her head in a quick, affectionate kiss.

There was a comfortable moment where they stood there together, looking out at their city and enjoying each other’s solid, grounding presence, before Chat Noir tentatively spoke up.

“…Want to come back to the apartment with me and snuggle?” he inquired sheepishly, a light pink blush peeking out from underneath his mask and coloring his cheeks. “I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want to keep you out either,” he confessed. “I know it’s the middle of summer, but the breeze really is chilly up here, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, easily giving in. “I don’t really feel like going our separate ways either. Carry me? For old times’ sake?” She gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes prettily.

He laughed as he effortlessly scooped her up. “As my Princess commands.”

She held on tight as he bounced back across the rooftops towards the apartment that they would soon officially share.

He let them in through his bedroom window and set her down on the bed, releasing his transformation as he attacked her neck with playful kisses.

Marinette giggled and squirmed as his nips and licks tickled her.

He stopped before long and pushed himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her in adoration as her chest heaved in her attempt to catch her breath.

Her dazzling smile lit up the dim, moonlit room, and she reached up to play with his hair, brushing it out of his eyes and twisting it around her fingers.

She lifted her head to ghost her lips against his and then lowered back down onto the bed, laughing.

“What?” he wondered softly.

“I’m happy,” she explained, smiling wider.

“Me too,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

“Good,” she hummed contentedly. “So…what were you doing out for a run? Couldn’t sleep?”

He stiffened, knowing she would scold him if she knew why he’d been worrying. “Yeah,” he replied cagily. “Just a lot of stuff on my mind. You know.”

She took his face in her hands to make him meet her eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head, averting his gaze as best as he could. “Nah, not really. It’s just silly things. I’m just being silly.”

“It’s not silly if you’re worried about it,” she patiently reminded. “I mean, I was keeping myself up fretting about how to fix a leaky faucet and what to do if our future hamster gets sick, so…whatever you’re worrying about, it can’t be any more ridiculous than my worries. Talk to me. Let me see if I can help you like you helped me earlier. We are a team after all…right?”

How could he argue with that?

With a tired sigh, he turned to meet her gaze, confessing shamefacedly, “I was fretting about what a big mistake you’re making by marrying me.”

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “Wait. What? Adrien, what are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed in concern as she stroked his face comfortingly.

“You could find someone better, Marinette,” he explained as if reluctant to inform her yet duty-bound to make sure she understood all of her options. “I’m sure there’s someone out there better suited to you, and I don’t want to trap you in this relationship with me knowing that—”

“—Adrien, stop,” she commanded gently, pushing them both up to sitting.

He looked at her searchingly. “But—”

“—No,” she firmly interrupted. “Okay. Maybe you’re right that some guy exists out there who would be completely perfect for me in every way, but you know what?”

He cocked his head to the side listening carefully.

“I don’t want him,” she declared resolutely. “I don’t want a perfect life with a perfect partner where everything is always easy and effortless.”

“You…don’t?” He blinked at her, baffled.

“I don’t,” she confirmed. “Adrien, one of the things I treasure most about our relationship is the hard parts, the times when we’ve really struggled to make it work, the things we’ve overcome together. I love that we’ve come together as a team time and again and that we’ve made it through and are still standing after all of that,” she stressed.

“That’s why I calmed down about all the stuff I was worried about when you reminded me that we’d take on whatever problems came up together. I believed you because we’ve gotten through apocalypses together before, so I know we can do it again. We’re tougher because of all the garbage we’ve been through,” she cooed squeezing his hand.

He squeezed back, unable to find his voice to reply.

“Why would I ever pick some seemingly perfect guy over you?” she continued to obliterate his fears, shaking her head at his ever having doubted. “They say you don’t really know a person until you’re buried up to your neck in crap together,” she chuckled at the memories, and he couldn’t help but grin at the past catastrophes that were now comic. “I know you, and you know me, and I know I can count on you no matter what. I wouldn’t trade our partnership for anything, Adrien.”

He nodded, seeing now how ridiculous his worries had been.

“You are the one I want…” She gave his hands another firm squeeze. “…rough edges and all…because your rough edges line up with mine, and I don’t think I could find anyone more perfect for me if I tried.”

He blinked back tears at that, completely overwhelmed by a raging cocktail of emotions. Far too many people had looked at him and declared him perfect without ever knowing about the dark, ugly parts inside of him. Yet, here she was, fully cognizant of the insecurities and the faults, declaring him perfect for her because of the ways in which he was broken.

“Maybe on the surface other people might look better,” she conceded, looking him full in the face and giving him a smile full of acceptance and love. “but you and I have been through fire together, and I know we can make it out on the other side in one piece, so…don’t doubt yourself. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted fighting by my side and having my back…whether that’s battling akumas or changing diapers or paying the bills or succeeding in our careers. You’re the one I love, and you’re the one I want to marry, Adrien.”

With a wordless sob, he pulled her into him, squeezing her close and pulling her down onto the bed beside him so that he could bury his face in her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him together as he let it all out.

“Shh,” she coaxed. “It’s okay.”

He trembled, overcome by joy and relief and all-encompassing warmth.

“Did you like that little preview of my vows?” she chuckled fondly as she pet his hair.

“You’re going to make me cry tomorrow,” he choked, lifting his head to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Any time you need it,” she repeated his earlier promise, meaning it wholeheartedly. She knew he had always struggled with self-worth and didn’t always believe that he deserved love and good things, so she had sworn to herself always to build him up and support him.

“I’ll text Alya to remind Nino to have tissues on hand,” she added as an afterthought.

“Please,” he whimpered, loosening his hold on her to shift into a comfortable snuggling position. “I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”

“You’ll still look gorgeous with tears and snot dripping down your face. Don’t worry,” she assured, breaking away to pull down the covers.

Reluctantly, he got up so that they could settle in for sleep.

Marinette arranged herself comfortably and then motioned for Adrien to snuggle in, resting his head on her shoulder, an arm and a leg draped lightly across her.

Fifteen minutes later, just when Marinette was starting to doze off, Adrien spoke in a timid, quiet voice.

“Are you sure you don’t have any regrets about never dating anyone else?”

His vulnerable tone banished the fog of sleep.

“I’m sure,” she responded decidedly. “I don’t need to date anyone else because I wouldn’t be able to fully be myself with anyone but you. You really know me, both sides of me, the good and the bad, so you’re the only one I can truly be the real me with. You’re not trapping me, Adrien; you’re setting me free. You were always right about revealing our identities. Being able to be myself around you without the masks and the secrets and the lies keeps me sane. Knowing that my partner really gets it makes all the stress and the strain bearable…and I wouldn’t have that with anyone but you. Go to sleep, My Love. You’re stuck with me.”

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, leaning in for a gentle, reassuring kiss. “I’d be overjoyed to be stuck with you for many, many years to come.”

“Same,” she hummed happily, nuzzling his hair and running her hand up and down his back soothingly until they both drifted off to sleep.

The End

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Plagg #Trixx #Kissing #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years

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Down the Rabbit Hole part 1

It's five in the afternoon just outside of Corpus Christi and I and my poor old Elantra with the broken AC are stuck in a traffic jam because some dickhead decided he wanted to cut across five lanes of traffic and got mangled by a semi truck. And then the jam’s compounded by all of the damn lookie-looes slowing down to a crawl as they squirm through the two lanes still open, the metaphorical arteries of the gigantic beast that is the United States highway system, trying to get a good look at something gory on the way home.

I'm slowly melting into my seat, barely able to keep my eyes open. I keep glancing over at the water bottle I'd set snugly into the passenger seat, my cupholders being full with spare change and old receipts and little mini bottles of hand sanitizer, but just the way the sun's reflecting off of it makes me sick thinking about how warm the water would be by now.

I'm a few cars back from the wreck now. A police officer, looking sweaty and tired, steps out into the road, stopping traffic to let a couple of paramedics cross. A loud radio ad is playing in the car next to me and I look over. The guy in it looks about as done with this as I feel. I smile to myself, go back to watching the wreck.

The paramedics have stopped now and are talking to the policeman in the middle of the road. He looks annoyed, gestures at the cars ahead of him. One of the paramedics shakes his head and points back towards one of the cars.

The radio ad ends and the throbbing beat of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" comes on and I find myself singing along under my breath without even thinking about it.

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray

South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio...

Another paramedic joins the group in the middle of the highway and then they hustle over to the wreck. The police officer gestures and we move fractionally forwards, then stop again. The asshole in the giant pickup truck ahead of me has decided to stop and watch them peel the door off the crushed sedan like the scab off a fresh cut. I can see something pink and fleshy and hurt-looking inside, where the driver's seat ought to have been, and I look away quickly.

We didn't start the fire

It was always burning since the world's been turning...

I end up meeting the eyes of the guy in the car next to me. He's bobbing his head along to Billy Joel and gives me a somewhat sheepish, embarrassed look. He's balding, looks about forty. A tired, haggard, sweaty face. I roll my eyes and smile at him and he smiles back. Someone behind me honks and I twist backwards and give him the finger, really slam it at him against the dirty rear window. We're rolling forwards so slowly that it's absurd to even honk, just people blowing off steam. I suppose on some level it's equally absurd to give him the finger for it, but whatever.

Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball

ARPANET, Free Tibet, what's in Mystery Flesh Pit?

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, space monkey, Mafia

Hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go...

Wait. What?

Now that we're past the wreck the highway widens out. More lanes open and the guy next to me merges over to the left. Billy Joel's voice disappears into engine noises and honks and the sound of the wind whipping past my open windows, but I still keep thinking about the lyrics I had just mouthed along to.

What the hell is a Mystery Flesh Pit?

I glance over at the phone sitting in its holster on the dash but something about the way the car I’d just past had crunched in on itself like a discarded candy wrapper makes me think better of it. I shift a lane or two to the right, get in line for my exit, and then I'm off the freeway. I make every light on the way to my apartment, all four of them, and it's just enough time that I forget about the line in the song. I jump into the shower and let the cold water run over me for fifteen minutes, which turns into thirty, which turns into forty-five, which turns into an hour.

When I get out I'm shivering but the warm Texas air blowing through my open window wraps me up like a warm hug, and I shrug into a flannel shirt, leave it unbuttoned. I put my cigarette out, leave it crumpled in the ashtray, stifle my coughs. I’m still not used to smoking this much. I eye the half-empty pack laying on the table but I let it alone.

The letter I received yesterday is on the kitchen table where I'd dropped it. The envelope is still on the floor somewhere. I think about going back and reading it again, or going and finding the envelope and throwing it away, but I don't want to. There wouldn’t be a point.

My phone buzzes; I see the name of the contact and let it ring. I don’t want to talk to him.

Outside, down in the courtyard, an old man is taking his dog for a walk. There is a vast darkened array of clouds closing in from the east and it already smells like rain, the wind is carrying it. I might take a walk too, later tonight.

I go back to the dresser and take my shirt off, slip a bra on, and then put the shirt back on. I almost light another cigarette, then I stop myself.

What the hell is Mystery Flesh Pit?

I had almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. Billy Joel got stuck in my head and while I'd been puttering I'd hummed along until I got to that verse.

I shake my head and go get my laptop, type it into google half-expecting to find a porn site. A few travelogue type posts, a Wikipedia page...I click on that one and get hit with a redirect. Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Area? ("Mystery Flesh Pit" redirects here. For the defunct U.S. National Park, see...)

I read the page, and then I stop. The growing sense of unease I felt while I devoured the Wikipedia article is now almost too much for me to handle.

This can't possibly be real. This has to be a prank or something, some kind of internet joke gone out of control. I click on the link to the National Park and see pictures, too many and too high quality to be faked. It's like something out of a Michael Crichton novel but it's real. It has to be.

The Permian Basin Superorganism (Immanis Collosseus), I read, is a subterranean organism unique to modern biology, being the sole occupant of the Phylum Immanemqa. The organism was discovered by a pilot well drilling crew in 1973; later efforts were made to expose more of the organism through drilling and surface mining explosives. The Permian Basin Superorganism is notable for its immense size, being the largest living animal on the planet, its equally immense age, and for the degree and sophistication of human exploitation concerning the animal, culminating in the opening of a National Park largely within the creature’s body, allowing visitors to descend within the Permian Basin Superorganism and…

I read about gullets and bones and digestion, about an ancient animal of some kind living baked into the stone and earth outside of Gumption, Texas. I read about the sheer enormity of it, I read about how a mining company turned it into a tourist attraction, splitting its throat wide open with metal retaining walls and letting people ride an elevator a thousand feet down into its insides. I read about ballast, some kind of secretion exuded by the creature that acts as a kind of panacea, healing afflictions untouchable by conventional medicine. They made great baths out of the glands that produced it, let people bathe in its diluted aphrodisiac waters. I read, finally, about the 2007 disaster that closed the park, when a pump failed to activate and drowned the thing, making it wake up – god, wake up? – and swallow almost seven hundred people, making it spew caustic vomit so high into the air that there are still pockets of it being found here and there nearly a hundred miles away, burning into the ground and poisoning water tables. And the way they managed to get it to go back to sleep is classified by the US Government. Did they nuke it? Christ, Gumption is only...okay, well, it's about five hundred miles away, so I guess I'm a little less concerned, but, god, this happened in the same state as me and this is only the first time I'm hearing about it. July Fourth, 2007...

I realize after a moment, with a strange little knot in my stomach, that actually, I did hear about it. I wasn't in the state in 2007. It was four years ago, I'd just gotten out of school and I was still in Oklahoma, but I remember my parents telling me about an earthquake at midnight that they'd felt, that woke them up, knocked a couple of things over. I had never known...

I feel a little like I've just woken up and gone to the bathroom and looked outside and all of a sudden the sky is a bright green, and everybody I ask about it just looks at me really strangely and says that it's always been green.

I google my way all over the internet, looking at photos people have taken decades ago on their family trips, hosted on filesharing sites or on ancient GeoCities-era pages. I see smiling families, people in hiking gear, people swimming inside biological hot springs, people digging pitons into great sheer walls of flesh, not minding the blood that gushes out. I see a shaky video someone's taken of their television, of CNN back on the Fourth of July, 2007, I see a vast bloody pit, carved into the great flat nothing of central Texas.

I feel like my head is spinning. I get up, get away from the computer, grab another cigarette and smoke it slowly, standing on the balcony, looking out over the sprawling cityscape in the general direction of Gumption, Texas, or at least where I think it should be. If north is that way, then…

Alright. It's real. There's enough evidence, photographs, videos, spread across so many different web sites that it would be impossible to fake. I look up an old rating list of National Parks, making sure that it's from around 2004 or so, and find Mystery Flesh Pit near the bottom. The tiny two-sentence blurb describes it as "strange," "horrifying," and "easily skippable," so I guess that could also explain why I had never heard of it.

And, of course, the ballast. Some kind of miracle liquid. I read on Wikipedia that they’d tried to synthesize it after July 4th, after the supplies had been cut off, but no matter how molecularly perfect they could make the compound it was so much drossy bathwater, without the power to cure even a hangnail. It has to come straight from the source for it to be any good - who knows why.

There is a slow, anxious curl unwinding in my stomach, and for a moment, I fear the results it may lead me to.

I look at the map I'd opened in another tab again; Gumption, Texas; a tiny little county named after a tiny little town, or so I've heard. Now that I’m thinking about it, I vaguely remember passing through Gumption once, very briefly, during a family road trip back when I was six, but I don't remember much more than that. The only reason I even recognize the name of the town is because at the time I thought it was a funny name and I kept saying it to myself after I'd asked my mom what the word on the sign meant when we drove into town. Welcome to Gumption. Did it have more, perhaps? “Home of the Mystery Flesh Pit?” I don't remember visiting the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, that's for sure. I think that would have stuck with little six-year-old me.

I eye the scale on the map, use my fingers to estimate the distance from Corpus Christi to Gumption.

It'd be a solid day of driving, seven or eight hours on the road, not counting breaks for food, sleep, restroom. I grimace at the computer screen, then zoom the map out. Lubbock, though...I could take a plane to Lubbock. That'd be, what, like two hours? Maybe? And then rent a car, drive down to Gumption...

I swallow, then laugh at myself. Why bother? I think. Why bother driving down to look at some fences and security guards? It's closed off, the Wikipedia page said, nobody in or out, just some scientists and a sedative plant. The fun stopped when it woke up, back in ‘07.

Flights are cheap. Ninety-nine dollars, ninety-five dollars. I start to type in the address to check my bank balance, then stop, fold the computer closed. I want a cigarette.

On my way out to the window my foot brushes against the envelope I'd left discarded on the floor and again I think of picking it up and putting it away, and again I leave it there. It doesn't really matter.

It'd be a horrible waste of money, probably. And I doubt I'd find anything really meaningful. Even if, you know, I use the excuse of going and looking around so I could write a story on it or something, I don't know if Jim, my editor, would really care that much. From what it seems, Mystery Flesh Pit is ancient history.

I take another look at the sheet of paper sitting on the table, curled over on itself like a dead spider. Fuck it, I think, then repeat myself out loud. I stub out the cigarette and go retrieve my cell phone, look up the phone number for American Airlines out of Corpus Christi airport. Fifteen minutes on hold later I am the proud owner of one business class ticket to Lubbock, Texas, leaving in four hours out of gate nine. I hang up the call and say "fuck it" aloud again because it makes me feel a little better, and then I go pack.

The plane ride is okay. Security was a bear and a half but it always is. I realized from the pleasant-unnerving swooping sensation in my stomach when we took off that it had been long enough since the last time I'd been on a plane that I had forgotten what it feels like. I was lucky to grab a window seat next to a little kid and his father; they didn't bother me as much as I'd expected. Once he turned to me to show me something on the handheld video game he was playing but his father quickly intercepted him and apologized to me; I was a little put out, honestly, I would have wanted to look at it. I'd forgotten to stick a book in my carry-on so I had been stuck staring out the window, and about a half hour in the plane had angled in such a way that the setting sun was glaring me right in the face and daring me to enjoy the scenery, so I did the most sensible thing I could and closed the shutter and tried to fall asleep. I think I managed to do so about fifteen minutes before we landed, which lead to me letting out a rather embarrassing yelp when the landing jolted me awake. The kid and his dad looked at me and I blushed, mentally kicking myself for blushing, but I smiled at them and shrugged and said that I'd fallen asleep and we had a laugh about it.

Lubbock is alright, I guess, if you don’t look at it too closely or stay too long. I rent a car at the airport and drive into town, and consider driving to Gumption that night, but I decide after some deliberation that it'll be better to do a little reconnaissance here first, if I really am going to make a story out of this. Am I? I've been treating that as my excuse so far and yeah, I brought my voice recorder and my camcorder and my DSLR and plenty of memory cards and extra batteries...but I guess I hadn't really taken it seriously.

The city's very alive at night, more so, it seems to me, than Corpus Christi, but I also don't get out very much back home, so maybe my perception is skewed. Everywhere I look there are clubs and shows and bars and things, and then, as I pass into the seedier areas, huddled groups of people spotted here and there. I imagine they’re eying me as I drive past and I tamp down the little curl of fear rising in my stomach.

I find a Motel 6 and then I try to find a Waffle House, but seemingly there aren’t any in Lubbock. I settle for someplace called The Pancake House, and then in a couple of hours I feel better, and then a couple of hours after that I finally manage to fall asleep.

I wake up having slept like the dead. I think about going someplace for breakfast but think better of it after I sit up too quickly and my stomach gives an uneasy lurch in protest. I get dressed leisurely – it is my weekend, after all. For a moment I even manage to fantasize that I'll be able to catch a flight home in time to make it to work on Monday but then I laugh at myself, which I seem to be doing quite a lot of lately.

Barely a hundred miles away, Mystery Flesh Pit is waiting for me. I don't know what I'll find there – personally, I feel rather certain it'll be a hell of a let-down – but it feels nice to have a purpose for once, to feel as though my life is being put to some kind of use other than to see how many cigarettes I can smoke in a single day and still retain some dignity.

It's nice to not have to think.

I take a breath and throw some clothes on and get started on the hard part.

* * *

The guy mopping the floor at the bus stop:

"Excuse me, sir? Do you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit Disaster of 2007?"

"The what?"

Businessman on the street, approached while tying his shoes:

"Excuse me, sir? I'm doing some research on the Mystery Flesh Pit disast –"

"I'm sorry, lady, I don't have any money."

Lady at the counter of the pharmacy:

"Excuse me, ma'am? I'm trying to find out some information on the Mystery Flesh Pit, do you have a moment to talk about it?"

"Sure, honey, but I'm afraid I don't know that much about it. That was back in, what, 2003? 2004?"

"2007, actually. Did you ever happen to visit while the park was still operating?"

"It was a park? I just remember something about some sort of tunnel collapse."

"Right. Thanks for your time."

Guy at the 7-11, asked while filling up the tank on my car next to him:

"Hey, dude, you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit?"

"Went there once when I was a kid. Pretty cool. Why?"

"I'm a reporter, doing a story on it. You remember the disaster that closed it down?"

"It's closed now? That's lame. What happened?"

"Thing woke up and ate everybody."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I've been asking around, like nobody's heard about it. Kind of surprising."

He taps his finger to his chin. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "it has been like five years since then."

"Four years."

"Even so. People don't have any kind of attention span any more."

His pump clicks off and so does our conversation.

Yeah, alright, maybe it isn't a very representative group, but it seems like nobody cares. Is that reasonable? Well...seven hundred plus people died, most in pretty gruesome ways, according to Wikipedia. Then there were the, god, the thousand or ten-thousand-plus people affected by the vomit and ejecta scattered hundreds of miles away. I’m not sure. You'd expect that apathy from the rest of the nation, maybe, I don't know why somebody in Arkansas or Kentucky or Illinois or wherever would give a fuck if they didn't personally know somebody who was affected, but here? Just a hundred miles from the place or so?

Maybe they did a really good job of cleaning up the cities, maybe it's only the little towns and places where the legacy of it has really clung on. I know there has to be a story, somebody who was there, somebody who saw it. That jerky camcorder video of CNN is a start, but something real, something visceral, in the words of a survivor...

That was the one thing I didn’t find much of. No memoirs, no autobiographies, just a few mentions here and there but nothing like a back-to-front story of what that night was like. That is what I’m really after.

I put my cigarette out in one of those trashcan-cum-ashtrays that dot the corners of every city I've ever been to, Lubbock no exception. I get in the rental car and again forget that it has crank windows instead of buttons. "To the library, and step on it," I giggle to myself as I pull out into traffic. I feel a little lightheaded and I remember that I never bothered to eat anything.

Perusal of the newspaper archives at the Mahon Public Library downtown confirmed what I'd already assumed – that there was no big government coverup, there was no conspiracy of that sort. The disaster at the Mystery Flesh Pit was capital-letter Very Big News for about a month, back in 2007, at least in the area. The stories towards the end of the month cast a little light on why it didn't last, though – it wasn't ongoing, it was just sort of a one-and-done thing. Yeah, finding the caustic vomit everywhere kicked up another stink a week or so later but the Powers That Be seemed to get that under control fairly quickly, at least in more populated areas. After that there were grumblings about disclosure and fault and blame and all that, and quite a few articles about Anodyne Mining or whoever going bankrupt but by the end of the month, aside from a few overly sentimental memorial pieces dedicated to delicately sidestepping the exact causes of death of the people they were memorializing, the news had moved on.

A librarian pokes around the corner with a cart and smiles at me; I smile back at her. She's young, pretty, long skirt, dark eyes. I scoot forward so she can pass behind me. I read on for a while, the faint swish of her skirt and the slim sliding sound of books going back into shelves registering dimly and pleasantly in the back of my mind. I put the paper down and stretch a little, and then I notice she's glancing over at me. I smile at her again.

"Doing some research?" she asks, and I nod.

"Yes," I say. "I'm a reporter for a paper in Corpus Christi and I'm doing a story on the Mystery Flesh Pit. Have you heard of it?"

As soon as the words pass my lips there's something dark and guarded lurking in her eyes that makes me perk my ears up. She waits a couple of seconds before she answers, clearly thinking of what to say, of how much to tell me. I mention, after a moment, that I'm surprised that so few people here in Lubbock seem to really remember it or care about it, and she nods, leans up against her cart.

"It was a big deal for a while," she says, gesturing to the stack of papers next to me, "but after that I guess it just wasn't exciting any more. The only people who really remember it are out in all the small towns where it really affected them. Here, in Lubbock, they just had vans working overtime to clean everything up and then it was easy to forget about. Every now and then I hear about them finding another pile of that vomit somewhere just...festering away out there in the desert."

"Were you there?"

"No," she says, "but my brother was."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. I want to reach out and touch her or something but I don't know if she'd appreciate it, so instead I keep my sympathy subdued. "Is he - ?"

"No, no," she says quickly, "he's alright. He was a park ranger there, he just…happened to be working that night. He, ah...it really fucked him up for a while," she says finally, giving me a grimace. "We haven't talked in a long time."

"I'm sorry," I say again. "That must have been hard, for both of you."

"Yeah," she says, cutting her glance downwards. "He always said some strange things about the disaster, real Alex Jones type stuff. But he just couldn't, you know, move on at all. We got in a big fight about it and, well, that was that."

I wonder what to say for a moment before I cross my legs, set the newspapers aside. "You must have gone there, then, while it was still operating."

"Yes, plenty of times."

"What was it like?"

She laughs softly. "God, that's such a...like, where do I even begin, you know? Have you been to many other National Parks?"

"A few," I tell her. "Not as many as I'd have liked. Crater Lake, Devil's Tower, Badlands, Petrified Forest..."

She laughs. "Real Midwest girl, aren't you?"

"Hey, Crater Lake is in Oregon, that's not the Midwest."

"I wasn't knocking it. Um. Well, it wasn't like any other park you've ever been to, I can guarantee that. It was like, you drive up to it and you park and you walk up these stairs to get to the main observatory building, and you get in there and you look down and there's just...skin. In a hole in the ground. It was extremely disconcerting. From that distance it didn't look real, it looked like it was plasticine or something, like it was a model. And there was something...I don't know, kind of lewd about it?"

"Lewd?"

"Yeah. The way they were spreading it open with these giant metal, like, flanges or whatever, and how it was all raw and pink around the opening...Freud would have had a field day with it. Made you feel like you were watching a gynecological exam."

"I still kind of can't believe they found this thing and thought opening a theme park was the best thing to do with it."

"It was the 70s, I guess." she shrugs. "Place is old, you know. Anyway, once you actually got down into it, it was...it was an experience. You rode this giant elevator down and they had a massive visitor center something like 1200 feet down inside the thing's throat, and you could look out the windows and see all this flesh outside. It was honestly like something out of a movie, it was so surreal. I went there a bunch of times with my brother cause he got an employee discount and I could get in for five dollars and I saw at least ten people have panic attacks and hyperventilate."

I think about my next question for a moment. "Would you say overall that it was, you know, a negative thing? Like, the park on the whole."

"No, absolutely not."

"Why's that?"

She licks her lips. "I think that it's really easy to forget how small we are. We've done all these great things, we've built civilizations, we've put people on the moon, we're exploring the bottom of the ocean, I think humanity in general likes to think that we have everything figured out." She shrugs. "The Mystery Flesh Pit is a really good reminder that we know basically nothing. I mean, they were studying it but they knew practically nothing about it, not how big it was, not whether there were more creatures like it elsewhere in the world, not where it came from, not even if it was awake or if it could move or what the thing looked like as a whole. I think what they ended up doing with it was stupid as hell, but as far as the experience of actually going down inside of it and walking around on a trail and, I don't know, watching macrobacteria roll past outside the fence or seeing something really weird moving around down there and seeing the park ranger guiding you not know what it is either, that's an experience I genuinely wish everybody got to have. It'll change your life."

"How did it change yours?"

She laughs. "Besides, you know, everything with the disaster and my brother and all that shit? Just going down there really made me realize who I was."

"How, exactly?"

She shakes her head. "Like I said, I figured out just how small I was and how – I don't know, how insignificant we really are. These days whenever I get worried or bothered or I stress out over something I think about standing there in the elevator looking up through the glass ceiling and watching the light get smaller and dimmer, like I was falling into a bottomless pit, and I find peace."

"Seems like an odd way to find peace."

"Different strokes, right? Anyway. I really ought to put these books away. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

I think about it for a moment, then shrug. "I'm planning on heading down to Gumption tomorrow, aside from the pit itself is there anything else I ought to check out?"

She lets out a low whistle. "I think you're going to be very disappointed. They don't let anybody go to the Pit any more, it's all sealed off, has been for years. And Gumption, well...that town has seen better days. I'll give you a tip, though, even though maybe I shouldn't. Look for my brother there, I know he still lives in town. I can't give you his number or his address, unfortunately, because I don't have them any more, but I know for a fact that he works at the only gas station in town, a 7/11, so ask around there and you'll be able to find him. His name's Peter; I'd tell you to tell him I sent you but I kind of get the feeling that might not get you very far."

I thank her for the tip and set the newspapers aside. If I head out tonight I might be able to get some good shots of the fence around Mystery Flesh Pit. I think of it, of the sunset, then discard the thought. Forget it. I'll need a whole day to really dig into it, I think. And more's the better. I have plenty of batteries, I have plenty of storage. Easy girl, there's no rush. Assuming they let me just walk up and start filming, but if I really hype myself up I can half-believe I could talk my way into at least getting some shots of the fence, at the very least.

"Oh, and one last thing."

I blink, look back up at her. She has a faint smile on her face, probably from watching me zone out, that fades quickly. "Don't stay in Gumption too long."

* * *

The drive down to Gumption is dusty and hot and boring. I get about halfway before I realize I'm not driving my poor old Hyundai, I'm driving a rental car, and that it has a functional air conditioner, and then I feel very silly, for though the wind certainly felt nice on the whole I would have much rather just rolled the windows up and sat in the cool air. I see a grand total of four other cars, all coming from Gumption, on the two-hour drive. It's mostly a straight shot but my phone tells me to take a county road that turns into just a dirt track towards the end that, after a little meandering, plops me out onto a back street of Gumption, Texas.

The research I'd done suggests that at one point Gumption had been a bustling little town, fuelled by the Pit’s tourist draw, and initially its size would indicate that it still is. But as I drove slowly through the empty streets, the general air of disrepair and decay became more and more apparent. I see a couple abandoned houses, and not the foreclosed sort with realtor's signs out front, but straight-up shattered-glass, boarded-windows, holes-in-the-roofs abandoned. The ones that weren't just looked sad, like no one was taking care of them properly. The cars parked on the street are all at least five or six years old, as best as I can tell. I see only two people out and about while I'm driving around at 15 miles an hour, getting some video footage, cruising down the middle of the road, eyes flicking between the empty street ahead and the screen on my camera. One, a youngish-looking black guy, keeps his head down and doesn't look at me, and the other, an old man in a wifebeater mowing his lawn, stares at me all the way down the street, until I turn the corner and pull onto the main road.

There's the 7/11. I'm tempted to head to it right away but I refrain, look for a diner or something, but the ones around look about as welcoming as the rest of the place. There's a McDonald's but it's so small it doesn't even have a drive-through, which is something I'd never seen before. There's a drug store and a liquor store and one of those tiny little storefront churches, something something Starry Wisdom. I think about going to McDonald's but instead I pull a u-turn and head back to the gas station. The clerk, a haggard-looking woman, doesn't look up from her magazine when I walk in. I wander to the back and grab a Coke out of the fridge unit. The credit-card reader is broken so I have to dig around in my wallet and find some bills. The entire exchange continues without any speech at all until I work up my nerve and lick my lips and ask her if there's a hotel around here somewhere.

She looks at me for a few moments and then jerks her head towards the road. Her voice sounds like a frog croaking. "There's a motel down the road a ways. When you pull out take a left and turn at Third street."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"By the way."

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me when Peter works?"

I had to think for a moment to remember his name. I have it written down in a notebook but it's out in the car. Her eyes flash a little more lively. "Who's asking?"

I think of what to say for a moment before I shrug. "A friend."

For a moment I think she's going to tell me to fuck off, but something in my face must have convinced her. "He's off today. Come in tomorrow at eight or nine at night, he'll be here. He works graveyard most days."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I walk out the door and the heat hits me like a thrown punch. I blow a breath out and lean up against the rough cinderblock edge of the gas station building and drink my Coke.

It's four in the afternoon and it'll take me maybe half an hour to drive down to the Mystery Flesh Pit. It'll be cooler, too, in the evening, and if this town is any indication I doubt there'll be much of a line. I wonder where the people who work there live; maybe they have a dormitory there or something. Clearly they don't live here. Maybe there's some little patch of suburbs somewhere, behind those hills over there, perhaps, where all the people are, but it's four in the afternoon and I've seen a grand total of three other cars driving around, so maybe not.

The guy at the motel gives me a nicer greeting than the lady at the 7-11 did, although not by much; at least I get a few dirty molars of a smile out of him as he hands me the key to my room. I had to wake him up from his nap at the front desk in order to get the room to begin with, and though I tried to do so as gently as I could he still started and almost fell out of his chair.

"Here for the Pit?" he asks as I'm about to leave, and I turn back, glance at him.

"Yeah," I say after a moment. "Just going to see what's there now."

"You're heading over now?"

"Yes."

"Huh," he grunts after a moment. "Most of you folks don't do that 'till dark."

I frown. "Us folks?"

"You know, you..." his eyes roam over my face and his mouth drops open very slightly. "Oh," he says heavily. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me –"

"Wait, hang on –"

"You have a good day now, ma'am."

He disappears into the back room and I stand there, glaring at the door as it swings shut, key still looped around my finger. I have half a mind to vault the desk and head back there and demand to know what the hell he was talking about, but I take a deep breath and let it out. What could he have meant? Maybe he thinks I work over at the Flesh Pit or something, although that wouldn't explain why they only head over after dark...that doesn't make sense. Tourists, maybe? But that doesn't make sense either.

I chew on my lip for a little while and then shake my head, push the door open and let the heat swallow me up again. There's no sense brooding on it; the only thing to do is to move forward.

* * *

The drive down to Mystery Flesh Pit is, if it were possible, even hotter and more boring than the drive down to Gumption. The heat is pounding on the window and begging me to let it in so I turn up the AC, trying to drown it out, but it's no use. No matter where I put my arm the sun is pouring down on me, and if I leave it still for more than a moment I get that unpleasant prickling sensation that tells me I'm starting to burn already. I've already got a pretty terrible driver's tan from the ride down but this is just overkill.

No cars pass me on the long road that my phone assures me is the way to the Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Corporation. It's only wide enough for one so if someone did come by someone's going off the road. Hopefully not me, as this rental Toyota is not built for that sort of thing. It's already been complaining at me creakily and jostling me around. I'll have to get it a car wash or something when I get back to Lubbock, whenever that ends up being. I didn't read over the rental contract very closely but I'm pretty sure if I bring it back this dusty there's some kind of fee.

You can see the outline of the plant, growing larger up ahead. It looks unassuming, exactly like any other indecipherable cluster of industrial buildings you'd see along the side of the highway, all greyish-white, tubes and pipes and tanks and corrugation, warning signs and fences and barbed wire, power lines and scaffolding and light poles, all clustering out of the ground like mushrooms after a cold rain. The guard in the gatehouse is watching me as I pull up, but I turn off the road, turning the car around so I'll be ready to go whenever I need to, well away from the road so anyone trying to get in or out can get by without any trouble.

The sign on the fence broadly proclaims that this is the site of the Permian Basin Recovery and Superorganism Containment Corporation, and says that the administration building is to the right, along with the barracks, infirmary, commissary, and so on.

I get out, shut the car door, take my camcorder with me. I keep it on but held low, taking a shot of my feet. I wander up to the gatehouse and the guard steps out, hand on the butt of his pistol, resting loose but confident. He has an MP helmet on and I wonder whether the National Guard is in charge of security or something, and then I wonder if I'm about to get got for trespassing. Surely there'd be more of a commotion if I was, right?

The guard has a sharp face but disconcertingly watery eyes. "Hi," I tell him.

"This area's off-limits to civilians, ma'am," he tells me.

"I'm not trying to get in," I assure him. "I'm a journalist, I just want to take some photos. Is that okay?"

He relaxes a little, points up and down the fence. "Right now," he says, "you're on public land. You go over that fence, you're trespassing on Federal land. Understand?"

"Yessir," I grunt, reflexively. Some old habits never die.

"You can take photos of whatever you like except for people inside the fence, understand? Before you leave I will check your camera."

"Yessir."

"Any questions?"

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Am I inside the fence?"

"No."

"Then yes, you can."

I bring my DSLR up, snap a picture of him. He gives me a cheesy grin. I look at the display and then back up at him. "You blinked."

"Better take another."

I do so. "You know," I say to him, "this is a much more civil interaction than I expected it to be."

He pauses, halfway back to the guardhouse, to shrug at me. "You're just lucky that the government doesn't also own the land around the park. On most military bases it's like that, you know, they own a hundred-foot radius out from the fence, but here it's different."

"Cause it used to be a National Park?"

"I believe so."

"Do I have to stay in your sight or anything?"

He shakes his head. "No, there are cameras. Just make sure you don't touch the fence, it's electric."

I look at the sign on the fence again; I'd sort of skimmed over it before but a few more things catch my eye this time, especially the bright red one proclaiming that it's charged to 10,000 volts. I whistle. "Y'all really don't want people getting in, huh?"

"It's dangerous."

"So I've heard. Want to do an interview?"

"Can't do that, ma'am. What paper are you with?"

"Corpus Christi Star-Tribune."

He raises his eyebrows. "You're a long way from home. What brings you down to Gumption County?"

I briefly explain what got me interested in the Mystery Flesh Pit and he nods. "Lot of people seem to have forgotten about this place. It's for the best, I'd say."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No, ma'am," he says, but not unkindly. "I can't talk to reporters."

"Come on," I wheedle. "Who'd know?"

"We're on camera," he repeats.

"Fair enough," I shrug.

He gets back in the guardhouse and I run a hand through my hair and turn my attention to the fence. I take a shot of the gates, of the fence, of the signs on the fence, of the great bulging buildings visible through the fence. I get a nice one of the fence extending along into the horizon, a great metal wall bisecting the flat, hot plain of West Texas earth, extending into infinity, it seems, a shimmer of heat distortion bubbling off of it down in the distance. I get another good one of the sun dipping downwards behind the plant, swallowed by it, casting shadows across my face, long spidery ones that scrape the ground. Then, once I'm at about fifty-percent capacity on my memory card, I put the camera away and sit there on the trunk of the car, kicking my heels idly against the gravelly ground, taking it all in. I read the sign again and I call out to the guard. After a moment he comes out of the gatehouse again.

"What is it?" he asks.

"What's that sign mean?" I ask him, pointing to it. He turns, looks at it.

"I don't think it's very ambiguous," he tells me, and I roll my eyes.

"No, I'm serious. What the hell does it mean? 'Over 500 people die each year attempting to commune with the Organism?' What does that - ?"

"Ma'am, I really can't talk about it."

I look at him carefully but he seems serious, and the sign, well...it's a sign on an electric fence on federal property, so surely it's serious as well. I turn my camera back on and snap a photo of it, then I realize that there's a bit of background noise, coming slowly closer. It's the rumbling of an engine.

There, down the road, is an unmarked white Econoline van. It flashes its brights at me and I step out of the road, let it pass by, while the guard at the gate straightens his uniform. It pulls up to the gate and the guard leans in. He and the driver have a brief conversation before the guard steps back and reaches into the booth to open the gate. The gate opens but the driver of the van sticks his head out, looks back at me. He has a jowly, bristly face, about two five-o'clock shadows away from a beard, and a large bald spot.

"And you, what are you doing here?" he calls, and I get up, a little surprised to be addressed so abruptly. The guard comes out in a hurry, shaking his head.

"Sir," he starts, but the guy in the van isn't having any of it.

"Shut up for a second," he says. "Lady, what're you doing out here?"

"I'm –"

"Sir, you really shouldn't –"

"Look, lady," he says, gesturing me closer. "Things don't have to go this way. There've been a lot of advances with medical technology that can really help you out with those urges. There's –"

"Urges?" I ask. I get a prickly feeling all up and down my spine, like I'm hearing something I ought not to.

"Sir," the guard says, urgently now, "she's a reporter."

The man's mouth snaps shut so quickly he might as well have been a cartoon character. He flushes an angry red and glares at the guard as though he wants to say something but he just ducks his head back through the window of the car and drives through the gate, which closes after him. I shake my head.

"I suppose," I say after a moment, "that you aren't going to tell me what he meant?"

"Not a chance."

"Well," I say, getting up and stretching, "it's been fun."

"You have a good night now."

"Am I going to get a visit from the Men in Black at my hotel room later?"

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"Riiiight." I waggle my eyebrows at him. "That's exactly what they'd want me to think."

He laughs. "Good luck," he tells me.

"I get the feeling I'll need it."

"You’ll be fine," he says after a moment, but I do not feel reassured.

* * *

I drive back to Gumption with the setting sun blazing in my rearview mirror. It slips out of view entirely and coats the sky in dusky purples that quickly fade to black, and then it's the figurative middle of the night. One-handed I manage to wriggle a cigarette out of the pack on the seat next to me and transfer it to my mouth and then feel around for my lighter, and then I groan and pull over. The guy at the rental desk at the airport had seen the pack of cigarettes in my hand while I was filling out the paperwork and told me very strictly that I had better not smoke in the car and I, of course, had managed to forget completely. It's a good thing I remembered before I lit up.

The night is cold but not unbearably so. I spend a long time there, leaning against the trunk of my car, cigarette in my hand but forgotten momentarily, staring up at the sky. There's so little light pollution out here that I can see what feels like all of the stars, practically, great scattered dustings of them sweeping across the whole of the night sky like someone had tossed them there. There's the Big Dipper, there's Orion, there's the Little Dipper... I think that bright one is Mars, maybe, it looks a little reddish. And that cluster there must be the Pleiades.

I take a breath and blow it out and realize exactly how tired I am. It's somewhere lurking in the back of my skull, right behind my eyes, coiled around my neck. If I closed my eyes I'd probably be able to fall asleep out here, right on the hood of the car.

I crack my neck and wince. The moon's bright and full tonight, at least, so I can still see the barren terrain all around me.

I consider the cigarette for a moment before I throw it to the ground and crush it out. I don't normally litter, really, I swear, but the exhaustion creeping over me is making me not care.

There's a long drainage ditch along the side of the road here, terminating in one of those white-concrete tunnels disappearing into the dirt, its mouth wide enough to swallow me whole if I felt like going down there. I stifle a yawn, kick a rock down into the ditch, and traipse around the side of the car, get in and start it up. From where I parked it, the headlights angle downward enough to reveal a sliced-pie cut of the inside of the tunnel and there, inside it, I see for only the briefest second a pale, wide-eyed face staring at me, along with a dark-jacketed body and a hand, curled there on the floor of the tunnel like a spider before, in a flash, the man retreats into the darkness deeper in the tunnel and is gone.

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and I realize my mouth has dropped open. Real animal fear has seized me and my rational mind cannot jerk back the reins. I put the car into gear, fumbling first and sticking it in neutral, and then push the pedal all the way to the floor and roar off into the dark.

I was very lucky that there was no one trying to get to Mystery Flesh Pit that night, for I probably would have flipped the car trying to go around them. The closer I get to Gumption, the slower I drive, until finally I manage to get myself to stop the car just outside of town. I pull over again and get out, curling my lip at my shaking hands, and light up another cigarette.

It was just a homeless guy, hiding in a drainage ditch. I probably spooked the fuck out of him, pulling up right there on top of him and hanging out. He must be wondering what the fuck I was doing out there. Probably scared him more than he scared me.

Why did I wig out so bad anyway? I like to think I've got a pretty good nerve. Well, stress is a good excuse, I guess. Or perhaps it's because he was simply hiding down there, unknown, unnoticed, the whole time I was sitting there on the hood of the car, completely oblivious. He could have rushed out and attacked me, if he'd had the guts to, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

I take another drag at the cigarette and glare up at the stars again. Ursa Major, Orion, Pleiades. Sometimes, when it's quiet like this, I allow myself to think about what the coming year, or possibly years, if I'm lucky, will be like.

Whatever.

I crush the cigarette out and drive back into town, head back to my motel room. I feel better once I've showered and put on some shorts. I get into bed and pull the covers up, and even though they're the scratchy, weird-feeling covers used in seemingly every cheap motel in America, regardless of location, I drift off to sleep easily enough.

Continue with Part 2

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