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miguelhugger2099 · 8 months ago

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Here, Kitty Kitty

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is your world's Black Cat. A/N: me when there's no fanfic of miguel as black cat: fine, ill do it myself Art: Marbipa on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little suggestive but that's it, Word Count: 2,535

Swinging on your webs, you hopped from building to building and made sure to to keep an eye out for any more crime during your patrol. You hoped that tonight would be a breeze but unfortunately, the life of a superhero will never rest. You landed by one of the police antennas and heard a call coming through their radios. Tilting your head, you focused on the frequencies to get a better signal. "All units be advised. We've got a call for a robbery in Lower Manhattan. Heading there now, requesting backup." You glanced up at the sky seeing the moon illuminate brightly. "I guess I could help the boys in blue." You shrug and thwip your web shooters, the silk spinning and sticking to another building before jumping off to gain momentum. You hauled yourself up after swinging, diving down between apartments and just barely slipping through a couple fire exits. You thought about who it might be this time. Maybe it was the Shocker again. Oh, he was always so easy to make fun of. No, that wasn't possible: you put him in prison. You just hoped it wasn't another one of Tombstone's men--they were always a little too cocky. Maybe just a couple of randoms trying to make extra cash the wrong way–a boring way to end the night but at least it'd be easy. You swung faster after hearing the sirens of police cars echoing throughout the night of New York. You saw a few police cars behind you and you giggled to yourself, playing a one sided game of who would get there faster. Always the competitive one you were, you stuck your webs onto two poles and pulled back so hard that they bent slightly. Your forearms burned until you let go, slingshotting yourself in the sky and allowing yourself to glide above the city. You wished to take off your mask and feel the breeze properly but you settled for the ripples flapping on your suit. "Robbery, robbery, robbery..." You murmured, swiveling your head around to see where the robbery could've been. You blinked as you spotted the familiar colors of blue and red flashing in the distance. "Robbery!" You grinned.

Zipping through the wind, you landed above what you now see is a jewelry store. You crawl into the shadows, making sure none of the policemen could see you. "Hm. I guess they win this time." You mutter to yourself about your little game. Perching on the ledge, you listened in on their conversation. "Any security footage?" One policewoman asks. "We're checking them now but so far after entering the perimeter, all cameras have been damaged." "Did you see what was stolen?" "A few rings and bracelets. But the owner is more concerned with a diamond necklace. Says it was going to be auctioned off later this weekend." You tilt your head in thought. And they got away? Definitely not some regular citizens. You began to feel a headache creep on you. You couldn't handle another big bad to fight this weekend. You stepped down from the ledge carefully and walked around the top of the building to find a vent. Once you did, you ripped it open and crawled inside, your body sticking to the ceiling. You looked around and saw various cases filled with glittering jewels, ranging in size and colors. You crawled through another room and hopped off the ceiling with a small thud. Looking behind you, you made sure no one had seen you and you began rummaging through the room to find any evidence lying around to catch the perpetrator.

You found yourself in front of the glowing case in the middle. You circled around it, the eyes of your mask squinting at the empty sloth that would've fit a giant diamond necklace inside. The glass was perfectly intact instead of ruthlessly shattered. This was no common thief. No fingerprints, everything was spotless and clean. You took a closer look. "Looking for this, arañita?" You hear a smooth voice behind you. You spin around, shooting your webs to trap the wrist of the stranger behind you to the wall. The familiar tall man you've had a complicated relationship with, Miguel O'Hara a.k.a. Black Cat. His skin tight black suit hugged his built body, white fur fluffed at his forearms and around his shoulders. His suit was opened at his chest, a long slit that gave everyone a nice view of his tanned skin littered with little black and graying hairs. His dark brown eyes were decorated with a thin diamond shaped mask that did little to hide his ‘secret identity’. His dark brown hair was in its usual slick back, gray strands curling in his locks and a pretty black collar around his neck. He tilted his head at you and lifted his other hand to cut your webs off him with an extracted claw. “Eso es como se trata un amigo? I thought your whole thing was being friendly, arañita.” Miguel says light-heartedly, unphased at the way your mask narrowed at him. You noticed that the hand you had webbed up was holding onto a pouch. Miguel slips open the pouch by its strings, lifting out the diamond necklace. He clips it around his neck and it shines in the moonlight that seeps through the ceiling window. He admires his reflection in the cases, his gloved hand caresses the jewels, his nail being gentle with grazing over it. “Isn’t she just a beauty? She’s not my style, personally, but I can appreciate her.” His eyes meet yours and he grins. “I think you would make it look even more beautiful.” You ignore his blatant flirting, your hands itching at your sides, wanting to snatch the pouch from him and return it to the police so the owner could have a good night’s rest–so you could have a good night’s rest. Now knowing the one behind this was Black Cat, your headache had gotten worse and you knew it’d be a long night. Miguel stalks up to you after taking the necklace off and placing it back in his pouch.

“What’s wrong, arañita? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, his claw grazing under your chin and making you look up at him. You bit down on your tongue. This cat always had a way of pissing you off. “I thought we agreed you’d put this behind you. You’re rich. What more could you possibly want?” You grab his wrist and take his hand off from your chin. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted your attention?” His lips curl up, showing off his fangs. “No.” “Ouch. I’m hurt. I thought we had something.” His smile doesn't falter. “Give back the jewels, Miguel.” ‘Hmm. No. These could go for a lot of money. Way more than whatever that auction it is they’re doing.”

“Miguel, you promised me you would be good.”

His eyes soften for a split second. The memory of your last encounter months ago where you two had spent the night together in the city up on the Empire State building. Your relationship was a confusing one. There had been nights where you were on opposite sides and other nights where he answered your call for help.

Miguel began to trust you. Despite his tendencies to slip between your fingers, you always spoke to him kindly when he wasn’t pushing your buttons–even then he knew you never harbored any actual hatred for him. So after a long night, he confided in you that this was his new life and it wouldn’t change–he’d always come back to a life of crime, it’s who he was. You believed he was better than that.

That night before he disappeared for months, he pulled up your mask just enough to see your lips and he kissed you, leaving with a promise to do better. But cats were known to do whatever they wanted. “You know I’m not good like you, arañita.” His smile turns melancholy. “But you could be.” You insisted. “Give me the pouch.” “I can’t do that, amor.”

You huffed through your nose, jaw clenching, and you tried to snatch the bag from his hand as quickly as you could. Miguel was faster, his clawed hand grabbing you and forcing you to bend over the glass display of jewelry with your arm behind your back.

You grunted when your cheek met the hard glass and attempted to worm your way out of his hold. You feel Miguel lean over your body, his warm breath whispering next to your ear.

“I've thought about you like this. Maybe with a little less clothing.” He teases and chuckles when you stiffen.

“Miguel.” You warn lowly.

“It's been nice seeing you again, arañita, but I've got to run.” You hear a dull clanking sound along with a small whizz.

You felt rope like strings wrap around your body and arms and suction themselves to the glass he slammed you on, trapping you.

Shit.

You crane your head as much as you could to see Miguel take a step back away from you. Just for shits and giggles, he plucks a pair of earrings from a stand and places it inside his bag before raising his hand up at the ceiling window.

Miguel gives you a wink and a charming smile and his grappling hook zips out from his wrist, denting itself in the wall. It pulls him up and he pops the window open, successfully escaping without leaving a trace.

You groan and knock your forehead on the cold glass. With your strength, you pop the rope off you, stretching your arm and wrist out.

Police began to enter inside the building, their commotion and their comms going off and getting closer to you.

Collecting the ropes, you webbed yourself out through the same window Miguel used and closed it behind you. You tossed the ropes away and began swinging around, trying to sense any trace of Miguel.

“Dammit, kitty.” You mutter under your breath. You ignored the way your heart pounded as you scanned every nearby corner. The sight of him after so long sent flutters in your stomach. You ignored the lingering hot touch of his fingers around you, the weight of his body towering over yours. His hips that gently bucked up against–

You tumbled on the roof of a brick building. This was not how you wanted your night to go. You let out deep breaths, your arms and legs spread out as you lay on your back.

After a couple of minutes, you sat up. You ripped your mask off and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You felt a turmoil of emotions.

When Miguel had kissed you that night, it broke your heart. He felt so sure of himself to give you affection but at the cost of his disappearance right after. It hurt but you thought if he could turn his life around for the better, it'd be worth all the heartbreak and what ifs.

You stood up and placed your mask back on your head, your arm raising up to shoot a web when your spider senses alerted you of someone.

You turn around to see Miguel, half of his body in the shadows.

“I don't have the pouch so don't shoot.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender.

“Didn't you say you needed to run?” Your voice spits and Miguel nods.

“I also said it was nice to see you again.” He walks up to you, his hands gently placing themselves on your hips. You stand tall, not wanting him to know his effect on you. “So forgive me, I'm a little selfish. I wanted to see you one more time.”

“Why are you back?” You mumble. Why are you back in New York?

“I'm sorry, corazón. You know me. It's what I do.”

“So you lied to me.”

Miguel winces. “No. No, I didn't. I tried, believe me.” His hands squeeze your hips. “I tried for you but…it's not for me. This,” He gestures to himself, clad in black spandex and white fur. “This is who I am now. It's how I have to live.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your mask-covered face. He wonders what you looked like underneath. Were you as beautiful as your body? Your heart? He dreamed so. He knew so.

“I still don't believe that.” You whisper, leaning into his touch, hands slowly going around the back of his neck and he takes it as an invite to bring you closer.

“You're still so naive.” He murmurs.

“You said you liked that about me.” You quipped. Miguel chuckles.

“I did say that.”

You feel a smile creep up on your face, your heart feeling lighter at the sound of his laugh.

“Hopefully we'll cross paths more often now that I'm back in New York.” Miguel grins. “Te extrañe.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper. With your chest pressed up against his, you could faintly feel the rumble of him purring. Miguel's claws run under your throat, flicking up the fabric of your mask to expose just a bit of your neck as if wanting to lift it off. “But you know I have to turn you in for robbing.” You add.

“Hm. A shame.” He mumbles dismissively. He continues to ride up your mask and you let him. He stops at your nose and leaves it there, eyes focused on the way your lips parted. “Kiss for good luck?” He asks. His eyes glint when you licks your lips subconsciously.

“You’re pushing it, kitty.” You mumble back but your arms tighten around him. Miguel purrs at the pet name.

“Just one kiss.” He insists, leaning down to brush his lips against your mask where your forehead was. You tilt his head further down with your hand at the back of his head and he follows. With your guidance, his lips find yours and your heart skips a beat. Miguel tugs you closer by the waist, pressing your chest and hips together. His hands crawl up your spine while he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You match his pace with your eyes closed while you feel his soft lump lips caressing yours. You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted–not when his hands roamed your body, squeezing you and devouring as much of your tiny moans as he could. Your hands curled up at the base of his neck while he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. Gasping, you allowed him access but he pulled away. “I’ll see you next time, arañita.” Miguel whispers against your lips,the fangs of his teeth gently nibble on your top lip before he pulls away. He squeezes your waist, his touch lingering and aching to keep you near but he lets go. He takes a step back from you and jumps back into the night, the sound of his grappling hook zipping through the air faintly. You sigh, trying to slow down your heartbeat with a hand over your chest when suddenly you pause. “Dammit…” You huff and kick a pebble away from you.

a/n: black cat miguel o'hara if you can hear me, please save me, save me black cat miguel o'hara

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine

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nomercytonight · 1 year ago

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Useful - Changlix smut

Changbin decides to fuck his roommate.

Words: 1875

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Seo Changbin/Lee Felix (Stray Kids)

Warnings/tags: dubious consent, non-con elements, non-con filming, spanking, handjob, anal, dom!changbin, sub!felix, objectification, degradation, free use

Part 3 of 4-part-series Changbin Using Felix (Part 1 here)

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Posted this first on AO3 because of the feedback there. Thank you for all likes, reblogs and feedback! Requests are open

This is part 3, I recommend reading the others first to grasp the dynamic and see the build-up.

The dynamic between Changbin and Felix had shifted, that much was obvious.

Where they previously lived as regular college roommates did, passing each other in the common areas, maybe a bit of small talk if they felt like it, the air between them was different now.

Felix, who had never been shy to initiate conversation, was now quiet until Changbin spoke to him first, his eyes nearly never leaving the older when they were in the same room at the same time.

Changbin had also changed. He was still not very talkative, but he had found a liking in touching Felix.

Some days, he would walk past the younger, with a slight tap on his butt, enough to make him jump in surprise but not enough to hurt. Other times he would be more aggressive, grabbing Felix's ass and smirking when he heard the younger yelp.

Changbin had realized that he was a lot less stressed in his daily life, the knowledge of having a stress-reliever at his disposal at home calming him down when he got agitated.

There was, however, one thing left to do, and as he was on his way home from class, the excruciatingly long presentation he had held an hour prior still on his mind, Changbin decided that today was finally the day.

He unlocked the front door, walking straight towards Felix's room and stepping in without knocking.

Felix was laying on his bed, phone in hand. He looked up, startled at the sudden intrusion.

"I'm taking a shower, and when I come back, I want you to be ready for me, got it?"

Felix nodded quickly, putting his phone done.

Without another word, Changbin left to take his shower.

He had not expected, how difficult it would be to keep his hands off himself in the shower. Knowing what was about to happen, knowing his roommate was currently preparing himself so that Changbin could fuck him, it all made him impatient and wanting.

He tried to take his time, on one hand to give Felix a chance to actually get ready, on the other hand because he loved the thought of leaving the younger waiting for him.

As he got dressed after drying off, he stopped for a moment, then decided to stick with his T-Shirt and sweatpants, forgoing the underwear he had planned on wearing. None of his clothes would have stayed on for long regardless.

He once again let himself into Felix's room.

This time, he went unnoticed.

Felix was laying on his back, his pants and underwear shoved down to his thighs while he worked himself open with three fingers. His other hand was on his chest, roughly twisting and tugging on his nipples, leaving them puffy and even more sensitive than before.

His eyes were closed shut and his head thrown to one side, desperate pants and whimpers falling from his mouth.

It was pornographic.

Changbin pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening the camera app to capture Felix. It was as though the younger was modeling for him, perfectly posing for his pictures being taken. The only way to truly preserve this moment, Changbin decided, was a video and so he started filming.

He thought about how Felix would react when Changbin showed him the video. Would he be embarrassed? Would he tell Changbin to delete it? Grow turned on at the sight? He would be finding out soon enough, he figured.

After a few seconds, he stopped the video and put his phone onto the nightstand next to Felix's bed.

It was time to make his presence known to Felix, who was still thrashing in pleasure with his eyes closed.

Changbin placed a hand on then younger's bare thigh.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Felix stopped his movement immediately, his eyes snapping open in surprise, still breathing heavily.

"It's time you make yourself useful, got it?"

Felix nodded, letting his fingers slip out of himself.

"Let's see how good you've been."

He roughly yanked on the younger's pants, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor.

"Shirt"

Felix scrambled to pull the fabric over his head in record time, placing it next to his bed.

Now fully naked, he looked back at Changbin, waiting for the next command.

"Face down, ass up. Now."

Felix did not have to be told twice, quickly getting into position, presenting himself.

Changbin kneeled behind him, letting his hands shamelessly roam over the younger's body. His hands lingered on Felix's behind, massaging the cheeks before spreading them without warning.

"Fuck, Felix" he breathed out, letting on finger lightly trace his hole. "You look delicious"

Felix squirmed, biting his lip in hopes of calming his panting.

His effect on Felix wasn't lost on Changbin.

"You like that? Want me to have a taste?"

Felix nodded, shifting so his hips were pushed closer to the older's face.

Changbin let out a short laugh.

"Well too bad this isn't about you."

With that, he grabbed the lube which Felix had used minutes ago, spreading some on his fingers.

He slipped in one finger, then a second, then a third, happy with the amount of preparation that had already been done. He let his finger slip out and got up, now standing next to the bed.

Without warning, Changbin grabbed his hair, pulling him forward until Felix was sitting upright. He didn't give him time to adjust as he pulled on his hair so that Felix's cheek was now resting against Changbin's crotch.

Changbin pushed his hips forward, against Felix's face.

Felix turned his head, mouthing at the clothed bulge. He looked up at the elder who continued slowly grinding against his face.

Changbin scoffed.

"You're really desperate, aren't you?"

Felix didn't say a word.

Changbin took off his shirt, not missing how Felix's eyes hungrily took in his upper body. It felt good, having the younger thirst so obviously. He decided to extend a bit of mercy.

"You can touch"

The other immediately sprung into action, hands exploring his waist, stomach and all the way up to his chest before moving down to the stomach again.

He even let them slide down to Changbin's hips and butt, quickly moving back up as though he was scared of what the older might say.

Though his hands might have been focused on Changbin's upper body, Felix's eyes were fixed somewhere else. Thanks to his lack of underwear, his growing arousal was easy to spot through his sweatpants. Felix could not look away.

Noticing this, Changbin stepped out of his pants, reaching for the lube once more.

Felix held out his hand, allowing Changbin to drizzle some on his palm, which he then used to stroke Changbin's length.

"Condom?" Changbin asked, followed by a groan.

Felix shook his head. "I got tested right after you- when you- after last time."

Changbin nodded, surpressing the smile forming on his face due to the younger's confession.

"I'm tested, too. Guess we don't need one."

Felix nodded, his hand speeding up.

Changbin let him continue, watching as he grew to full hardness.

Then, he pushed Felix onto his back, climbed on the bed and aligned himself with the younger's awaiting hole.

Changbin had a tight hold on Felix's thighs as he pushed in, not able to hold back a groan at the sensation.

Felix's mouth fell open, his eyes scrunched closed, taking in the sensation of Changbin finally entering him.

As he had expected, the older of the two did not wait to see if Felix was ready, instead thrusting harshly and chasing his own pleasure.

Felix tried holding back the sounds threatening to escape his throat, unsure how much space he was allowed to take up, but ultimately failed at remaining quiet. Each thrust caused a short moan to spill from his lips, while his hands scrambled to find something to hold on to.

Changbin pulled out, instead flipping Felix over to lay on his stomach. When Felix attempted to get on all fours, he was pushed back down by a strong hand on his back, his body flush against the mattress.

He let out a mixture between a moan and a scream when Changbin's flat palm suddenly landed on his behind without any warning, the second slap follwing quickly after.

"I didn't tell you to move, so you better not fucking move" Changbin grunted, not ceasing to spank the younger.

"I'm gonna make sure you won't even know why you can't sit tomorrow. Will it be because of my hand abusing your asscheeks? Or will it be because of my cock splitting you in half?"

Tears were welling up in Felix's eyes, the pain of each slap mixing with the overwhelmingly good feeling of it causing him to grind into his bed. Changbin grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up so he could see his face.

"Crying? What, is it too much for you to handle? Or are these tears of joy that you're finally being treated like the slut you are?"

Instead of a response, Felix could only let out a desparate sob.

With a final slap, Changbin let go of Felix's hair, letting his face fall back onto the pillow.

Changbin moved on top of the younger and pushed in once more, immediately starting with a brutal pace. He moved roughly, one hand pushing Felix's head down so his sobs and moans were muffled by his pillow. He didn't care that it also made breathing a lot more difficult for the younger.

It was clear that Changbin was chasing his own pleasure, relishing in how the other just took what he gave with no complaints.

"Just a fucktoy I have."

Changbin let out a grunt.

"You should be thanking me for treating you like the object you are. Fucking whore."

He moved both hands to Felix's hips, holding him in place as he shoved in deep, filling him up as he came. Using Felix's body however he liked, he rode out his high until he had enough, then pulled out.

"Turn around"

When Felix moved too slow for his liking, Changbin grabbed one of his ass cheeks, red and sensitive from the previous treatment. It made Felix gasp and turn onto his back quicker, exposing his hard and aching cock.

"I'm done with you"

Changbin stated matter-of-factly, to which Felix nodded in understanding.

"Get yourself off"

Changbin commanded, not moving from his spot on the bed.

"Myself?" Felix asked, dazed.

"Who else would I fucking be talking about? Play with your pathetic little cock, I'm not going to do it for you."

Felix nodded and eagerly went to work, flinching at how sensitive he was.

His hands moved quickly, almost frantically, as he let out desparate gasps.

His moans grew louder, consisting of desparate sounds and calls of Changbin's name. Felix finally came with a silent scream, spilling over his own hand.

Changbin put his hand on Felix's wrist to move his hand. Felix expected him to be fed his own release due to the older's action, but was instead met with his own hand gliding across his face, covering it in his own cum.

"Now you finally look like the slut you are."

Changbin commented, reaching over to retrieve his phone again.

---

Part 4

#changlix smut #stray kids smut #changbin smut #dom!changbin #felix smut #sub!felix #kpop smut #skz smut

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blueberry-sunshines · 4 years ago

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Late Night Rendezvous - Keith x Reader One Shot

Summary:

You are a fellow pilot at the Garrison and Keith's only friend, he sneaks you out to show you something during the night...

Word Count: 3.2K

Slight Angst | Sweet, Vulnerable Keith

{This can also be found on my wattpad: @/blueberry_sunshines}

{POV: Yours}

You were sitting criss-cross on top of your small bed in your dorm at the Garrison. The dim yellow glow of the school commissioned lamp lightly lit up the pages of your biology textbook. You were staying up late trying to study. Your roommate offered to stay up with you to help but you told her just to go to sleep. You didn't want her to be all sleep deprived.

Keith Kogane wasn't in all of your classes, but he was in a few. You were both fighter class pilots so your curriculum was quite similar. Everyone always says they're so surprised he's nice to you, and your roommate loves to tease you about it. She says that Keith has a 'soft spot' for you, but Keith just says that you're the only person he can stand.

Besides, you've known each other since you were kids. You both transferred to the Garrison at the same time and were partnered together. At first Keith was really cold towards you, but you always just thought he was shy and it didn't bother you that much. He seemed bored with the simulator and you always found his showing off to be rather funny. After what happened with James, Keith finally opened up to you and after that, you two were rather close. By the end of the year you two definitely started to become real friends...

You guys are 16 years old now and Keith is probably your best friend. There's always been a thin barrier between you two, but you've been ignoring it because you don't want him to push himself further away. You kind of always wished he would open up more. You thought about asking him to help you study tonight, but boys and girls aren't allowed in each other's dorms and you've been trying to make sure he stays out of trouble because you've been worried about him recently. He's been kind of distant lately and much more aggravated. A lot of people had been antsy lately because the Kerberos mission was a few months away. You knew that Keith sees the pilot, Shiro, as an older brother figure. He took Keith under his wing, so maybe that's what he was thinking about all the time when he was out of it. You had talked Shiro many times about Kerberos and he seemed very confident about it, so you never thought to worry about it. You shook your head, trying to refocus on your biology book. You turned around to look at your alarm clock and saw it flash "1:13 AM" in its big, red numbers. Damn, you really needed to wrap this up and get to bed soon...

-Knock Knock-

You had just about jumped from the surprise of someone knocking on your door. You looked over to your roommate's bed to see her definitely asleep. You sprung off your bed knowing exactly who it would be. Shaking your head in half disappointment, you put your hand on the button on the wall and let your door slide open to see none other than Keith Kogane. You felt the accidental smile form on your face the moment your eyes met his. He looked uncharacteristically nervous as he stood there in the hallway all dressed up in his red jacket and boots. You loved seeing him in his outfit because the Garrison uniforms were rather bland. Although, you thought, Keith could probably pull of anything.

"Are you gonna let me in?" Keith whispered to you with a furrow on his face. Your face began to heat up in embarrassment from spacing out.

"Sorry, just tired..." you whispered back, peeking outside the door to see if there was anyone there before grabbing Keith's sleeve and pulling him into your dorm room.

"I didn't think you'd be awake..." he admitted quietly as he walked towards your bed.

"What's up?" You asked curiously. Normally he tells you he's coming before he does, so you weren't sure what he was doing here.

"Get changed, we're going out." He was sitting on your bed now and had his arm crossed. You looked down at yourself and realized you were still in your old T-shirt, sleep shorts combo. Eh, well this isn't the first time Keith's seen me in my pajamas.

"Keith," you sat back down on your bed, pulling him down with you. "I don't know if we should." You cautioned, "You're always getting in trouble and you can't afford losing your scholarship. You are the best pilot here, you were born for this."

He frowned at you before speaking, "(Y/N), we're not gonna get caught. Besides, if I get kicked out, they have you left." He bumped into you jokingly. "Where are we going?" You asked quietly to make sure your roommate doesn't wake up. Keith started standing up then and shook his head, "You'll find out soon." He said shortly, not leaving any room for you to guess what he's planning.

"Come on," he stood up quickly and held his gloved hands out to you. You placed your hands into his and felt the warmth of his palms. It made your heart jump for a second. He pulled you up off your bed and slightly spun you over towards your big, gray wardrobe.

"Now get dressed and come with me~" he whispered into your ear and pulled back with a smirk. He let go of your hands then and slipped out towards the door, "And hurry before we get caught!" He whisper-yelled to you as the door slid shut.

Your heart was beating so fast. Something about Keith always made your adrenaline start pumping. Maybe it's because we're always doing things that could get us in trouble. You thought to yourself.

Okay maybe more like convinced yourself. You then started changing out of your pajamas and into your regular outside of school outfit to distract yourself from your thoughts. You didn't want to like Keith. You guys are best friends and there's no reason to ruin that just for a silly crush. Once you were changed you made a dash to the door and snuck out next to Keith as quietly as you could. You smiled up at him and he looked down at you kindly before heading down the corridor with you stealthy following after him. You were glad to see him like this, this is the first time he's really seemed happy in the past couple weeks.

You slipped around past some adults and teachers before making it out of one of the dock's open doors. You and Keith had snuck out of the Garrison many times before but you normally don't go with him every time he goes out. He likes being alone and so do you, so you understand.

Keith was leading you around the side of the building to stay out of cameras' and lookouts' lines of vision you eventually managed to creep around to a corner and ran until you were in the spot where you are completely hidden, there you two found Keith's land speeder. Keith plunked a helmet onto your head and started to get on before you protested.

"Hey I wanna drive!" You whisper shouted to him hoping he'd let you be in charge of the speeder. Shiro had taught Keith to ride them ever since you've known Keith, you tried to convince him to let you join them when you were younger but he always refused. It wasn't until you were older you realized your boundaries much better. Over the past year, though, you had asked Keith to teach you and he's been trying. You weren't the greatest yet but you were definitely learning.

Keith let out a soft chuckle, "No way, sweetheart." He snipped at you in a playful tone while using a sarcastic nickname that always caused your chest to ache. "Besides, you don't even know where we're going." He fully sat down on the seat now and patted the seat behind him, other hand on the handlebar. You reluctantly obliged and slid on behind him. He turned his head around to look at you and gave you a smirk, "Hold on tight, we're going fast."

You grinned and nodded then wrapped your arms around his torso and hung on as he revved the speeder and you two went rushing across the desert. Your heart began to race as you pulled yourself closer to Keith, feeling the wind on you as you flew through the air. You began thinking to yourself where Keith may be taking you as you looked around at your surroundings blurring past you. You eventually leaned your cheek against his back as the ride wasn't super short.

"We're almost there!" He yelled back to you, not turning his head back this time. You could hear the smile on his face and it made you smile too. You picked your head back up to start looking around again to see if you knew where you were. As you slowed to a stop, you peeked your head around his shoulder to look in front of you.

"Hey!" You began laughing, "You liar! I so know my way here!" Keith had driven you guys to his old house he used to live in with his dad. You guys have come here many times in the past. Keith comes here all the time and even skips classes to be here. It's a cute little home but it's not very cleaned up inside. Perhaps Keith likes it the way it was left and you can see why. Keith joined in on your laughter.

"This isn't the place, we're just stopping to pick something up." Your laughter subsided as Keith got off the speeder. "Stay here," he smiled down at you, "I'll be right back." He then pushed down the visor on your helmet just to tease you before he walked off towards the house. You flicked back up the visor and rested your hand on your palm tiredly. You were starting to feel tired again after that adrenaline rush. You yawned as you thought about what on earth Keith could be grabbing. By the time he came back you started to feel more awake when you began having conversation again. Keith had a long case in his arms and he strapped it safely to the back of the speeder. Keith got back on and began driving you two up a long hill a small while away from the old Kogane house.

Once you made it to the peak, you two both got off the speeder and you got to see the beautiful sky line over the dessert mountains. You let out an amazed sigh at the sight. You were pulled out of your awed state when you heard the sounds of Keith doing something behind you. Turning around, you saw Keith setting up a telescope. You looked at him in confusion because you didn't think Keith liked telescopes, especially not after that full semester on telescopes and astral charts two years ago. He looked up at you through his long hair that was sagging in this face from his bent over stance. He didn't really look so amused either which just pushed your confusion even further.

"Come here." He beckoned after he was done setting it up. "Come here and see what you can see, right in the middle of the scope."

You looked at him skeptically before getting down to look into it. In the middle of your view was a small faint blip in the sky. "Dude," you snorted, "what star is this?" You still had no idea what he was having you look at.

"It's a moon. Jupiter's Europa." He said shortly. You stood up from the telescope and saw Keith sitting nonchalantly on the ground now. You walked back and sat down next to him, letting your hands fall behind you to hold yourself up.

"Europa is about 365 million miles away. That's nothing compared to Kerberos." He said, his voice starting to sound a lot more unhappy. "It's over 3.2 billion miles from here. And Shiros actually going!" He shouted with a growl in his voice. There it is, you thought, this is about Kerberos.

You kept quiet. You knew during times like this, it was better to just let Keith talk and you were perfectly fine with that. Looking over at him, you could see him still looking up at the night sky. His eyes were sad, his gaze was lost, yet angry. "I heard him fighting with Adam when I was outside his door a couple hours ago. Adam told Shiro that if he goes to Kerberos, that he won't be here for him when he gets back." His eyes wavered down at the ground between you two now. "And it got me thinking, everyone's been saying this is just a routine mission but, why would Adam be so worried about it?" He looked over to you now, helplessly, you didn't have an answer, and he didn't expect you to have one.

"I think you should confront Shiro tomorrow and ask him to tell you the truth about it." You offered finally after a small moment of silence. Keith nodded slowly, thinking about your response.

"Thanks, Y/N." He gave you a small grateful smile before laying down on the ground now, face up to the sky. You followed suit and laid down, suddenly even closer to him than you were before.

"Anytime, Mullet." You grinned turning your head to face him. You saw him looking at you with a disappointed scowl on his face, causing you to let out a small laugh. Keith let out a sigh as you stopped giggling. You never knew what he was thinking, and the look on his face, you could tell he was thinking deeply about something. "What are you thinking about?" You decided to ask him, thinking there'd be no better time to have real conversations with him than tonight.

Keith looked back at the sky now opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again. Most likely thinking over his words.

"I've been thinking about something else too. I don't know what I would do in Shiro's shoes. I'm impulsive and stupid as hell, and when I want to do something I don't let anything stand in my way, but if someone I really loved tried to stop me from doing it, I don't know if I could, even with the thought of them leaving me for me. And it scares me, Y/N, so many people have left me and I don't know what I'd do if it were my fault you left."

You felt a lump form in your throat from hearing Keith talk about this. This is one of the times in a very long time he has let you in on how he feels about anything. Hearing him openly express your emotions was touching and you felt so honored to be the one he tells them to.

"Y/N?" Your name escaped his lips again, this time asking as if he was longing for you. You turned your head again to look at him. You held your breath when you noticed that your faces were close enough that your noses could be touching if either of you moved any further.

"Yeah?" You asked him suddenly much more quiet now, you cursed yourself for sounding so nervous but you couldn't control your pounding heart at the proximity. You were searching his eyes to see if you could guess what he was thinking, he's never been very touchy and you were oh so close to touching, you started to sit up a bit to give him space, but you were stopped in your tracks when you felt Keith's hand grip onto yours as he sat up too, pulling your hand towards him.

The warm touch so foreign and yet so familiar. An hour ago in your dorm, a month ago while guiding you in the simulator, a year ago when he tried to help you fix your bad hair day, all the way back to age 13 when he handed you back your glitter gel pen in class and you felt the flaming rush in your chest.

"I want you to know," he whispered, holding onto your hand a little tighter now, "no matter what happens, I will never do anything on purpose to make you leave me."

You didn't know what to say, so instead you flung your arms around him and pulled him into a loving hug. You let out a shaky sigh as you felt Keith's body relax into yours. "I know you wouldn't." You were in this weird state of shock having never seen Keith this vulnerable before.

"God I'm so fucking stupid..." you hear his muffled voice growl from your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug then, angry at himself for just simply showing you his emotions. You shook your head quickly and put his hand back into your own.

"No you're not, Keith." You reassured him, "Thank you for telling me this." You said then, hoping to make him feel more secure again.

"Yeah..." he sighed then, "Let's get you back in your dorm, they should be switching look outs soon." He quickly changed the subject. You frowned at him, both for putting back up his wall and for making this night coming to an end. You agreed nonetheless, you were glad Keith was beginning to let you in and you were willing to accept that the boundary was back up. Keith means the world to you, and you'd never let that go.

Keith drove you guys back to his speeders hiding place before helping you sneak back in and back through the halls to your dorm. There wasn't any talking on the way back but it was a comfortable silence. Once you were back at your door, you thanked Keith for the wonderful night and told him to get some sleep before the sun starts to come up. You turned them to your door and were about to open it when,

"Hey, uh, (Y/N)?" He whispered for your attention once again. "You're really important to me." He said shortly but still full of so much love. You pulled him into another hug. "You too, Mullet." You whispered into his ear, "Never forget it... please?"

You felt Keith nod and he gave you a quick squeeze before letting go of the embrace, slowly, his hand sliding down your arm as he began to walk away, once it reached your hand and gave it another quick squeeze before he finally let go and slipped around the corner into the darkness. You let out a large breath you didn't know you were holding once you saw him disappear. God were you in love with him. Even if he's never usually like that during the day, you love every Keith and maybe one day you'll tell him....

__________

Hey!!! Let me know what you thought of this one shot :))) I know Keith was pretty ooc, but I like thinking of him being very sensitive around the ones he loves!

Also this didn't proof read yet because I rlly wanted to get this chapter out to you guys !!!!!

This is my first like official Voltron work so bare with me!

PLEASE PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING LOL

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rek1s-headband · 4 years ago

Note

hello! First off, just wanna say your writing is amazing and gives me so much joy with how well you write the characters. Secondly, mayhaps a set of headcanons for poly!y/n with Langa and Reki or a cute date one shot?

➯ A/N: Hey! Thanks for the request, hope you enjoy:)

➯“Lady and the (two) tramps” poly date one-shot

➯ Characters: Reki Kyan x Langa Hasegawa x gn reader

i know it says “lady” and the 2 tramps but thats just cause yall act out a scene from the movie dw its still a gn reader

➯ Warnings: none:)

➯ Word count: 2K

You skipped down the stairs at the sound of someone enthusiastically knocking at your door. You could only assume it was Reki, he always picked you up before the two of you headed over to Langas, whose house was furthest out of you three. You flung the door open, grinning when you saw Reki smiling up at you from the doorstop. You let out a scream of delight, jumping into his arms as he responded with a laugh. You heard his skateboard skitter along your driveway when he dropped it, arms coming up to wrap around you as he spun you around.

“Hey sweetheart” you heard him muffle into the side of your neck as he held you close, and you could feel the smile on his lips. He slowly brought his head out, hair ruffled and a dopey grin on his face. You reached up to fix his hair, reciprocating his greeting with a smile of your own. You brought him around the side of your house to collect your skateboard and help him retrieve his from where it was cast on the floor. He reached out to offer his hand to you, bringing it up to kiss it when you accepted. “Shall we go?” He cocked his head to the side, smiling brightly when you nodded and stood onto your skateboard.

And so the two of you made your way to Langa’s, you shooting him a quick text to let him know you were on the way. You and Reki made light conversation as you skated along the roads of Okinawa, talking about where the three of you would go today. It was a Saturday, which usually meant it as date night for you three. What you did on your dates changed quite a bit, but according to Reki, Joe had some new recipies on his menu that he wanted to try, and he thought you and Langa might like them. Joe’s was a regular date spot, the three of you annoying the shit out of the poor man with your antics. You would stay there for hours, simply asking for water and breadsticks until he threatened to kick you out in an attempt to lengthen your visit. He would never actually kick the three of you out though, he loves you too much. You hope.

You picked up your board as you and Reki got to the front of Langa’s house, both of you knocking at the same time. You could hear his mother behind the door calling him excitedly, telling him his partners were at the door. You heard what sounded like Langa practically falling down his stairs, and you and Reki shared a look, both wondering just what was going on in the house. Based on Langa’s dishevelled demeanour as he stepped out the door, something of the sort had indeed happened. His expression quickly picked up when he saw the two of you waiting for him. He pulled the two of you into a hug, giving Reki a quick kiss on the cheek before turning around to press one to your forehead. And once again you were skating down the road, except this time it was all three of you, headed to Joe’s to stuff yourselves with his new meals.

The smell of Italian cuisine wafted through your nostrils as you took in the scenery around you. Joe’s was particularly packed today, but your booth was empty as usual, the three of you slipping into it while laughing at something Langa had said. After the first month or so of you going to Joe’s on Saturdays, he’d started reserving the booth for you to ensure you had somewhere to sit. You sat beside Langa while Reki slid into the other side of the booth. You’d swap who sat where every week, for example last week Langa and Reki sat on one side while you took the other. Joe made his way out of the kitchen, smiling when he saw the three of you sitting down. He made his way over to you, menus in one hand and a notepad in the other.

“I was wondering when you kids would finally show up! Thought you’d decided to ditch me this week.” The three of you laughed while he placed the menus down, looking at you expectedly. “so let me guess,” he pointed at you, “breadsticks?” You laughed while Reki shook his head, to which Joe gave him a puzzled look. “No? But its what you always seem to get. In a rush to leave today?” Langa flipped through the menu, pointing out a few things to you with one hand while the other snaked around your waist.

“Not today, were on a mission.” Reki explained while you slid down in your seat, stretching and getting comfy while Langa practically salivated over the menu. “We heard you’ve got some new stuff on the menu, and we wanted to make sure we had enough time to try it.” You and Langa nodded enthusiastically while Joe chuckled, checking his watch.

“Well you’re lucky you didn’t get here later, I have just enough time to whip up the new ones for you before I close up. So dont go getting too comfy, I’ll have to kick you out within the hour!” You smiled at Joe, sliding even further down into your seat and cuddling into Langa, exaggeratedly putting your arms around him as you batted your eyes as Joe.

“Oh dont worry, we wont get too comfy!” Langa played along, practically lying down in the booth with you as you faked being asleep. Reki giggled across from you, snapping a few pictures of the two of you. You shot into the booth beside him to look at the photos, horrified when you realized he had posted them on his story. You pouted as he pulled you into his side, giving you a quick kiss as he explained how cute the two of you looked. You slid back into Langa, both of you pretending to ignore Reki, laughing when he started whining about how he’d leave and make you two pay for everything yourselves.

When the food finally came, you all watched with wide eyes as four big plates were put in front of you: a new spaghetti and meatballs with “improved sauce”, a huge pizza littered with [whatever toppings you like], a lasagna dish with extra crispy cheese, and a big basket of garlic bread. Langa was practically foaming at the mouth beside you as you watched Reki immediately lunge for a slice of pizza. You turned around to thank Joe before grabbing your own fork and diving into the lasagna.

After the three of you had demolished the better of 2/3 of all the dishes, you grabbed the pate of meatballs, declaring you wanted to try something with them. “It’ll be cute! Come on” you begged as you set up your camera. The plan was to recreate the scene from The Lady and the Tramp, taking turns sharing a string of spaghetti before meeting in the middle. They eventually agreed, allowing you to hand them a string of spaghetti to put in their mouth.

First was Reki, who kept sucking too fast and pulling it out of your mouth, just eating it for himself. Eventually he got it right, pulling you into a sweet kiss in the middle of the table. You had to tap him to make him take away his hand he’d placed at the back of your head in an attempt to keep you there just a bit longer, worried that people were staring. He giggled, watching as Langa made his way to the other side of the table so you could properly film it. Reki gave him a quick kiss before Langa gently placed the spaghetti in his mouth. However, he kept laughing and had to replace it multiple times. Finally he stopped laughing long enough for you to meet him in the middle, giving him a soft kiss. When you broke away he was quickly getting up and coming back to your side, declaring it was him and Reki’s turn. They took the longest, Langa’s laughing and Reki’s speedy eating combining to create absolute chaos. When you finally had it filmed, you looked around to see the restaurant completely deserted, Joe yelling a muffled “Get out!” from the kitchen. You picked up your boards and ran out, leaving your money on the table and yelling a “Thanks!” In Joe’s general direction.

You skated along the road, stopping at a corner store to pick up some snacks for while the three of you were skating. Reki was playing music from his speaker as you talked, acting as background noise while you laughed together. Just as you had been picked up, you and Reki skated with Langa back to his house. His mom was already waiting for him at the door, waving at you excitedly when she saw the three of you come into view. You all went up to the door, giving her a hug and making small talk while you said goodbye to Langa for the night. After Reki said goodbye and walked over to talk to his mom, you wrapped your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek and holding him tight. He laughed, rubbing your back as he pulled away from the hug to run his hand through your hair and along your cheek, pulling you back in for one final kiss. You and Reki waited until they had both gone inside before skating off, headed for your house.

You hung around your door with Reki for a few minutes, not wanting to go inside and for the night to be over. Soon enough though, you were telling Reki he needed to head home, not wanting him to skate home by himself too late. He chuckled, pulling you close and resting his chin on your head. “Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn’t defend you and Langa? I’ll be fine sweetheart.” He pulled away to look at you, smiling down at you while he rubbed your face. You leaned into the touch, telling him you were still going to worry and he should head home regardless. He faked a pout before grinning, pulling you close and giving you another kiss, swaying you as your hand came up to mess with his hair. When you finally pulled away, you stayed in his arms for a little while before finally stepping closer to your door, letting go of his hand last as you opened it. You waved goodbye to Reki before blowing a kiss, which he caught, bringing his hand to his mouth.

Before you closed your door, Reki stood onto his board and began to make his way down your driveway. “Goodnight sweetheart!” He yelled as he looked behind at you, nearly falling off his board because he wasn’t looking at where he was going. You laughed, waving back.

“Goodnight my prince!” You could see him smile at the nickname from the end of your driveway, before finally pushing off. You closed the door when he left your sight, smiling to yourself as you made your way back to your room. You looked at the videos you took earlier that day, smiling when you heard Reki cheer in the background of you and Langa’s video. You sent them into the group chat the three of you had, laughing at the pictures Reki took of you and Langa and saving them to your phone.

Maybe the three of you might make a reappearance at Joe’s the following day. After all, the food was delicious, among other things..

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reidsconverse · 4 years ago

Text

memories • spencer reid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none! just 4000 words of pure angst

This was an old fic reworked to be about around spencer so its taking a lottt of creative/artistic liberty with the character, so it kinda sucks im sorry! 😁

Every moment you had with him was one to be remembered and cherished for better or worse.

It had been a few weeks since Spencer had officially ended things, he had moved all of his stuff out of your apartment and now it seemed as if he had never even existed in the same place as you, as though you two were strangers. That is had it not been for the images of memories the two of you held. So, here you were sat alone in your room, your only company the half-empty bottle of wine and photographs of the two of you which sat strewn carelessly across your floor.

You picked up a picture and stared at it realising you both looked so happy. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, a cup in his hand and his signature grin sitting across his face. Your head was leaning against his shoulder, the smile on your face reminding you of how free you had felt that night, you had never felt happier and you recognised that night as the night you realised...you were so in love.

"We should have a party," Spencer yelled despite there being no one else other than the two of you in the room.

"Right now?" You looked at him as if he was insane, not only was it completely out of character for your boyfriend but also, it was 1 am on a Wednesday and although your friends weren't those with a regular schedule you presumed most of them would decline a house party in the middle of the week.

"Yeah right now, c'mon doll I'll call Derek and some of the others and you call your friends." His hand was already on his phone texting Derek before you could protest so you followed his instructions and went ahead and invited your friends before getting up and preparing for this impromptu party.

It had only been 10 minutes when you heard Derek and some others open the door shouting for Spencer and you walked over with a grin on your face, "Hey D, Spencers being a diva and redoing his hair, he'll be right down." You said, rolling your eyes as Derek pulled you into a hug, he may have been Spencer's best friend but he thought of you as a sister and always treated you as such.

"Well I have look good for my girl," You heard Spencer say from behind you quickly placing a kiss on your cheek before doing his weird handshake with Derek, "Hey, thanks for coming'."

The three of you made your way to the kitchen to grab some drinks and greet some more guests who had congregated in that area and before you knew it, you were 4 shots in, feeling way past tipsy and in the mood to dance.

"Hey Spence," You said walking over to where he was now sat, a cup in his hand as he held a conversation with JJ and Emily about something that you didn't care too much about. You waved a quick hello to the girls so as not to be rude and then placed your head on his shoulder to let him know of your presence.

"Hey darling, you feeling good?" He turned his face and flashed you a wide grin before wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. He enjoyed being near you whenever he could, when he was away he would long for the days where all he did was sit and hold you close to him regardless of what the two of you were doing, so now whenever he had the chance he would hold you close.

"Feelin' great Spence.. wanna dance with you..." You said pulling out of his hold and grabbing his hand leading him onto the 'dance floor', which was just the open space in your living room. He laughed and quickly finished his drink, discarding the cup somewhere in the room and held you as you both danced to the music playing through the speakers.

After a couple of songs, you both made your way to get another drink and get a break from the crowd, you sat at the kitchen island and passed him a drink."You know, considering you're a genius, I would've thought you'd be able to coordinate a bit better." You said teasing him about his choice of moves which had essentially been him waving his arms in the air attempting to be in tune with the music.

He looked at you in fake shock and scoffed, "Yeah well it was still better than whatever you were trying to do." Referring to your horrendous attempt at trying to be sexy which in truth was never going to be anything but embarrassing. You stuck your tongue out in a childish manner causing him to laugh and quickly move to place his lips against yours giving you a soft kiss.

You jumped down from the counter after pulling back as a couple of your friends walked in and struck up a conversation about nothing interesting yet you made the effort to look engaged as Spencers's arm slipped over your shoulders and you placed your head against his shoulder.

"Hey guys, look here." You both turned to see your friend Harry, as always with a polaroid camera in his hand. You and Spencer gave each other a quick smile before grinning wide for the camera, both your faces full of love and happiness.

You sat there thinking about how quickly things can change, the people in the image you held so young and naive to the struggles the future would hold. Taking another sip of your wine you skimmed through some more pictures before stopping at one that held a bittersweet meaning. A picture that was taken a few days after what had been your worst fight, you both looked happy but all you could think about the events leading up to the image being taken.

It was your and Spencers 5th anniversary and he had promised he would make it to dinner. You hadn't seen each other in weeks because he was away on a case but he had promised he wouldn't miss this day, he had asked for permission from Hotch to leave for a couple of days so he would be there. "No excuses, No ifs and buts...I'll be there babe. I promise."

But there you were, alone at a table for two. The look on the waiters face held nothing but pity as he walked over for the fourth time to ask if someone would be joining you. Finally, you gave up and shook your head to let him know you would be leaving and would like the cheque. You had never felt so humiliated walking out of the restaurant head held high but tears building up in your eyes and so you cried. You felt so broken, almost as broken as all those promises Spencer had made you. The word promise and sorry had lost all meaning in the last 5 years, simply a courtesy rather than meaningful.

The minute you got home your phone began ringing, it was Spencer.

"Hey doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it, the team wanted to go out last night and I kind of missed my -." He began to explain causing you to scoff, 'no ifs or buts' my ass.

"How could you?" Your voice cracking as you tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill for the second time that night. "I waited for 2 fucking hours Spencer, I felt like a fucking idiot."

"What? What are you talking about?" His voice was full of confusion. "Didn't you get my text?"

"No, I fucking didn't. I didn't get a fucking text. But that's not the fucking point, You should've been here, you promised you would be here."

"Babe, I'm so -," He began but you knew what he was gonna say. The only conversations you seemed to have were stuck on a loop like a broken record.

"Save it. Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it, stop saying sorry and show it instead."

"Look, I'll get on the first flight out. I'll see you in a few hours, I'll make it up to you I prom-." You hung up the phone before he could continue, his promise worth nothing to you anymore. Walking over to the couch, you fell asleep the minute your head rested against one of the many cushions populating the seat.

You woke up to keys jingling in the door, yet you made no effort to move from where you were. The sound of his footsteps got louder as he approached.

"Babe? I know you're up." He said, kneeling beside you making you sigh and sit up. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

You just stared at him, it might have been petty but you didn't want to give in to his apologies just yet, he had to understand just how much he had hurt you first.

"I couldn't care less anymore, Spencer. I just need to remember that I'll always come second to work and that's fine, it's important to you and I understand that." You got up and walked over to the kitchen to gather yourself.

"Babe you are the most important thing to me, I'm sorry-."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Here we go again, Spencer there's only so many times you can say you're sorry before it loses all meaning. I'm sick and tired of this, I don't know if I can do this anymore. You're never here, you make promises you can never keep and I'm pretty sure you've told me you're sorry more times than you've told me you love me."

"Please don't do this. I love you." His voice was shaking, breaking down at the thought of you leaving him. He moved over to you and turned you so you were facing him. "I know this means nothing to you but I am so sorry. I've been so shitty to you and I know it."

"Spencer, I deserve better than this and I'm sick of forgiving you and acting like I'm fine with how you treat me, you might not mean it but it fucking hurts. I love you so much and I know you love me but would it kill you to put me first for once in your fucking life."

This annoyed him, the lack of sleep and being overworked leaving him less patient and more irritable, "That's not fucking fair, you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating me, I'm doing my fucking best. I go to work for US, to support US. If I could devote all of my time to you if I could, but I can't and it fucking kills me. You can't understand how much I miss you when I'm not here."

Tears welled in your eyes seeing him breakdown, unable to keep up the unbothered facade you had on, "I just...Spence, I miss you too. It hurts not being able to be near you and so when you're not there when you promise you will be, it hurts it really fucking hurts not to mention it's terrifying, how am I supposed to know you're ok if you do shit like that."

He pulled you into his arms as you sobbed into his chest, all the emotions you'd kept bottled up during the argument letting go. "I know baby, I'm so sorry I hurt you. I promise, and I mean it this time, I won't let you down again. I love you." He mumbled into your hair, slowly kissing your forehead whilst consoling you and holding you like he never wanted to let go.

The two of you went to bed that night in silence, not a word was spoken until the next day wherein Spencer switched off his phone and dedicated the whole weekend to you and only you. He kept his word once he had to leave, always fulfiling his promises, never pushing you to the side and communicating with you always. The two of you felt strong again, you were happy.

You put your glass down and walked out of your room and began pacing around the living room, pictures of you and him still up on your walls, the walls that no longer belonged to the both of you. You thought back to when he asked you to move him, how nervous he was and how excited you were.

It was movie night at Spencers house. Each week he invited everyone over to watch a film, everyone taking it in turns to select a film. This week Emily had chosen Midsommar, a film you were yet to see so you were excited. You were sat beside Spencer on the loveseat, his arm around you and your face resting against his chest, a blanket covering you both for extra comfort. You looked up and saw Derek and Penelope lay spread across the floor whilst JJ and Emily sat on the sofa. Bowls of popcorn and sweets were scattered around the room and beer bottles were piling up. It was nights like this that you wanted to treasure forever, for the first time you felt like you had a family, people to call your own, people you could trust.

"Watcha thinking about?" Spencer asked, glancing at you and realising your mind wasn't directed at the movie anymore.

"Nothing, just really lucky to have you in my life," You reached your hand up to hold his face and gave him a soft kiss. "I love you."

He pulled you in closer if that was even possible, "I love you too."

"Ugh, get a room." Derek groaned making you both chuckle.

Spencer responded by throwing some popcorn at him, "Aw is someone jealous, don't worry you'll find someone soon enough."

Derek murmured a quiet, "Fuck off" before turning his attention back to the movie, making everyone laugh.

The movie ended shortly and everyone was discussing what to watch next, you were in the mood for a comedy but Derek wanted to watch Die Hard for the millionth time. After several minutes of slight arguing, you finally decided on rewatching Moana for the 12th time.

Everyone was pretty much settled, drinks refilled, popcorn replenished and everyone back in their positions. Emily was about to press play before JJ stopped her, "Wait before you start I'm kinda cold can I borrow a sweater?" She asked Spencer.

"Yeah sure, take one from our room." He said casually like it was normal but it made your breath hitch in your throat, did he just say our room? As in, yours and his. Unofficially he wasn't wrong, it was your room as much as his, you spent pretty much every night here making having your own apartment redundant, but he hadn't yet asked you to move in with him. You couldn't help the small blush on your face and the way your lips turned upwards at his words. It made you happy knowing he thought of it as something for both of you.

"What has you so happy?" Penelope asked in a teasing tone, she'd picked up on Spencer words and knew exactly why you were smiling.

You just stuck your tongue out at her and looked up at Spencer, "Our room huh?" You asked making him smile.

"Yeah I mean, you're here every day, maybe more than I am. You should just move in at this point." He let out a little laugh after he said leaving you confused as to whether he was being serious, so you just laughed along and waited for JJ to come back so you could start the movie.

A couple of hours later almost everyone was half asleep, everyone apart from you and Spencer. You began making your way to his room followed by him carrying the blanket he had taken from his bed. The two of you went about your night routine, Spencer had insisted on keeping at least half of your things at his place hence why you never had to leave. You quickly changed into one of his shirts which fit you just right and climbed into bed where he was already sitting, reading a book.

"Spence, were you being serious...earlier when you said I should move in?" You asked him, making him put down his book and look at you.

"Would you like that? You don't have to say yes but I would love it if you moved in. The mornings when I wake up and you're still next to me, are the best mornings. Honestly, knowing I'm going to wake up next to you makes falling asleep easier. Plus Tesla and Edison love you, maybe even more than they loves me." He asked, the mention of his fish making you laugh despite the fact your eyes were welling up, what had you done to deserve the sweetest man to walk the earth.

You shifted yourself so you were straddling him and held his face in your hands, "I would love to move in with you." You answered placing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you so much," He said as you moved back to laying down next him. "You make me the happiest man alive and I'm so lucky to have you."

"God, Spence you gotta stop before I start crying, I love you too." You said, as he laughed and pulled you into a comfortable sleeping position.

"Goodnight love." He mumbled, already falling asleep.

"Goodnight Spence." You responded, closing your eyes and beginning to drift off but not before saying, "By the way, the fishies definitely love me more."

You hadn't realised you were crying until a tear fell onto the frame you were holding. The image just as blurred as the memories it held. You carefully placed the image face down onto the table rather than placing it back up. Making your way to the sofa, you got your phone out and glanced at the image that had left you in this state. A picture of him and her, his hands holding hers as tight as they once held yours, the grin on both of their faces wide. He was happy, only it wasn't because of you anymore. You closed your eyes again, remembering how it all ended.

He had been distant since he had come back from this last case, he had been away for almost two months trying to catch this unsub and you had thought he'd be more excited to come back to you and finally be home. But he hadn't spent more than 10 minutes with you, the only time the two of you were in the same room for longer than that was when you fell asleep. Recently that had also stopped, he spent more nights away from home and at clubs with Derek and Emily , only coming back once he knew you weren't there. It was killing you but every time you questioned it he shrugged you off, telling you he loved you.

You wanted to scream at him if he loved you why isn't he showing it, why does he refuse to acknowledge you. You knew he was lying to you, he didn't love you anymore, you could see it in his eyes, how he never looked at you as he used to, he never held you like he used to. It was killing you and you knew you should ask him but you also knew that would lead to conversation you didn't want to have, an ending you didn't want to happen. So you kept quiet, went about your day and didn't question his actions, you had decided you would rather have the worst of him than not have him at all.

But that didn't last long. A few weeks later something happened, something you could ignore. Spencer had barely been home, only coming back to grab new clothes and leaving again often returning at 4 am or not all. The nights you spent alone, his side of the bed going cold broke your heart bit by bit. But you weren't ready for it to completely shatter, the images Penelope sent you of him holding that girl, a little too close, a little too tight, a little too much, start to fill your screen causing a lump in your throat and tears threatening to spill. You walked to the kitchen, surprised to see him there, he was sat at the counter head in his hands and a coffee in front of him.

"Spencer, what fuck is going on?" You all but shouted.

"Shh, my heads killing me." He said, burying his head in his hands attempting to block you out.

"You fucking asshole." You screamed at him, the pain and hurt evident in your broken voice as you tried your best not to cry.

This made him look up, far quicker than he should've causing his head to fill with pain and throb, but he didn't care, the memories of last night were coming back he knew he had fucked up. "I-I'm sorry, I was drunk and she was just there, nothing happened.

"You're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?" You said, moving away from him as he got up to come closer to you. "No, don't fucking touch me. I'm done."

"What? No look I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I love you." The words were said, but the tone held so much uncertainty you couldn't tell if he was trying to convince you or himself.

"No you don't Spencer, not anymore. I know you don't and I've been lying to myself, saying that I'm ok with it when I'm not. I love you so much but I can't keep hurting myself by pretending like we're fine, We're not fine, we haven't been for a long time. Yes that fucking hurts, I thought we were forever, I thought we were going to grow old together and have kids and show them that we were soulmates. I thought we were perfect but we aren't."

"I never wanted to hurt you, I love you so much but-" He started with a sigh.

"You're not in love with me anymore..." You finished for him

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different, I wish I could control how I felt. You were everything to me, I really did picture a future for us but things changed, I don't know why and I don't know how. You don't deserve this, I'm so sorry."

"I know Spence, I know." You moved closer to him and he held you like it was the last time... because it was. "I'm sorry too."

You pulled away from him."I'll grab some stuff and go stay at my mom's for a few days. I just need to find a new place to move my stuff to." You said, trying to brush some tears away but failing as they kept falling.

"No, it's fine. I'll go, this is just as much your home as it is mine. I'll stay with Derek for a bit, you take your time sorting stuff out ok?" He said, using his thumbs to attempt to wipe away your tears. You sighed but nodded knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer.

You sat down as he went to the room to gather some things, your mind reeling from the last half hour. How could so much change in such a short period of time, years spent together thrown away so quick.

"I'm done, I'll get going ok?" He said placing his duffel bag down beside by the door.

"So this is it huh?" You said, with a sigh. You felt him walk towards you and take a seat next to you.

"The last 10 years have been the most incredible time of my life, you put up with so much of my shit and loved me unconditionally and I can't thank you enough for giving the eager 25-year-old who wanted nothing more than to impress you a chance. I'm never going to stop loving you, you know that. I'm never gonna forget about you, my first love, the first woman to capture my heart. I'm so sorry things didn't work out like how we'd imagined them. If I could change how I feel I would, I wanted nothing more than for this to be a silly phase, for me to wake up one day and feel how I felt again. But it didn't happen and it fucking sucks."

"I get it, Spence, you have to do what makes you happy and I'm not gonna stop you. I'm just sorry it wasn't me that could give you want and need, but you're gonna make some girl out there very happy if you're even half the man you were when you were with me." You gave him a soft smile as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

He stood up and walked to the door. "Call me when you're ready ok? I love you." He turned and gave you a soft smile before picking up his bag and walking out the door.

You just broke down, you don't know how long you sat there sobbing your heart out but it felt like forever. Everything hurt so bad you didn't think you'd ever feel any emotion other than heartbreak for as long as you lived.

You took a deep breath as your hand hovered over the delete button on your phone, it was time to move on just as he had. As you released the breath you were holding, your finger pressed against the button, deleting all the pictures you had with him and you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and the realisation sunk in.

You loved him so much, but he wasn't yours to love anymore.

He was just a memory.

tagged: @gcblers @187-reid @mgg-theprettiestboy @mggbler @snitchthewitch

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer fluff #my works!

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yandere-mha-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 8: Handy

words: 2218

There was only one more thing hawks wanted to do at the moment, get your talon back, he was smart to keep one of his feathers on the guy he smacked against the door. Hearing the conversation on how he keeps his little “trophies” in front of the people he “interrogated”.

“I was so worried when I heard the news that Nighthawks somehow found a way to break in.” His wife said, “And to hear you were actually hurt.”

“I'm fine, nothing to worry about.” He said

“But dad, you have a large bump on your head.” His kid said

“Nothing time and some ice won’t heal.” he said “thanks for dinner honey.”

He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into his workroom and taking out your talon from a glass box before putting it back in and then going to the other trophies this man had collected, what a sicko. Three days had passed and it was about time Hawks got it back for you, then man was getting too comfy thinking that he was in the clear, sure Hawks moved quickly but he also knew when to wait for the right time to strike.

Hawks waited and waited till he saw all the lights go off in the house, all except for the office, Hawks feather finally floated out from under the guy's coat as he were none the wise and he didn’t even notice it undoing the window lock and slowly lifting it up, the man was so immersed in whatever he was writing down he didn't even notice hawks climbing in through the window with one of his primary feathers shaped out, hawks ave him a second and nope, man this guy instincts were awful, or Hawks was just that good at hiding his presents.

So it was really easy for hawks to over his mouth with his gloved hands and have his primary feather against the man throat only then did he notice

“Hi, guys.” Hawks said “How are you doing this fine night? Well, I guess you can't really talk, right now, now you are probably wondering why I am here, the answer is very very simple, even the score.”

Hawks had two of his feather an inch away from the guy's eyes

“Now look unless you want to go blind you will stay quiet and answer my questions okay.”

The guy just nodded and hawks uncovered his mouth

“Please, don't kill me, I was just doing my job.” He said

“Is that how you justify your actions, there is a lot to unpack there, now where did you put her talon?”

“On the second-highest shelf, third to the left.” He said as hawks used his feathers to lift it off and put it in his coat pocket “That's all you wanted right.”

“Hmm well, one more question, which hand did you hold to pilers to pull it out.” Hawks said, “And I don't know isn’t an answer.”

“I used, my left hand to hold them,” he said

“Good now place your left hand on your desk.” Hawks said

“Why are you planning to do it?”

“Just a taste of your own medicine.” Hawks said, “Look if you won’t put it down, maybe your wife would offer hers up.”

“What?” The man said

“Tell you what I'll let you decide, your wife's left hand, or yours.” Hawks said and the man was now sweating buckets

“I need my hands to provide for my family.” He said, “I can't lose them.”

“You know that was a rhetorical question, at least I don't feel as bad doing this.” Hawks said slicing the man's hand clean off, it took him a moment to process it seeing the numb he now had for a left hand and started screaming out in pain, Hawks saw him topple over to the floor before picking up the hand and leaving, he tossed it over his shoulder over who knows where, he sure was glad he locked the office door before he went, wouldn't want that kid of his seeing the blood sprayed all over the place.

Still, now he had one more place to go for the night, meeting up with his broker, someone who would do anything for you as long as you had the money w. Giran, the man who was not interested in anyone's plans, Hawks respected that part about him, not being tied down by just one person, the same man where he got his current gear. Hawks landed on the fire escape and walked down and into Girans' place.

“Well well if it isn't my favorite feathered friend.” He said taking in a long inhale of smoke “You got blood on your cheek.”

“Ah, it's not mine.” Hawks said, “Anyway I have a request for you.”

“Haha why else would you come and see me.” he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes “Want one.”

“I'm good.” Hawks said

“You're loose.” He said, “now you said you needed something different than usual, and I'm assuming it has to do with that woman you got from HPSC?”

“It does, they took out one of her talons, so I need a proteic so she will be able to wear it and use it again.” Hawks said removing the talon and placing it on the table

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Giran asked, “The root of the tail is intact so no way is she growing that back, also interesting this isn't regular Keratin.”

“I asked you to make it usable again, not analyze it.” Hawks said

“I know a guy, What will probably happen is he will put it in a fingerless glove that wraps around her wrist, a few never receptors and when she flexes her finger then this one will pop out.” Giran explained, “Still I'm surprised you went to him for help, whatever happened to you being a lone bird.”

“Can't just leave someone out to dry.” Hawks said taking out a wad of cash “And I only went to them on a one-time deal, they have their plan I have mine.”

“Hey, it lets me make money.” He said “Come back tomorrow ill have it ready for you. One more thing, they are planning something big tomorrow so watch the news.”

“I will.” Hawks said, “Oh one more thing, do you have any medical books laying around.”

“I'm sure I can come up with something, but why do you ask?”

“A housewarming gift.” Hawks said, “make sure they are interesting, none of that fluffy shit the gritter the better.”

“...noted,” Giran said, looking a bit perplexed at his request. With that said hawks left attaching his wings and head out back to his hideout to see you lunging in his twin-sized mattress reading a magazine he had laying around

“Hey I'm back.” he said as you put your hand up and waved at him “So, how are you doing?’

“Still healing, did you finish those errands?”

“Sure did.” Hawks said “I still need to grab some grub. Do you want anything?’

“Anything will do.” you said flipping the page “Also when I saw you had a magazine that said chick weekly I wasn't expecting it to have a bunch of baby bird photos.”

“Hey, we all have our hobbies.” Hawks said take the magazine out of your hand "And be careful this is my only copy.”

“Why do they even make magazines like this?” you asked

“Same reason there are millions of magazines for heroes, money.” Hawks said

“Do you have some weird bird fetish?” you deadpanned

“NO!” HAwks said, “where would you even get that idea!”

“That was a joke.” you said “Got pretty defensive there.”

“Find something else to read here.” Hawks said tossing you a flyer about the HPSC “You are smart enough to know that having information on your enemy is key to defeating them.”

“I already read this.” you said,” Still the fact it says we strive for a healthy relationship between the public and heros' makes me wanna barf.”

“Tell me about it.” Hawks said scratching his head “You are only allowed to your quirk for good, and the only way to use your quirk to work under them in some way, so they must be good like they haven't been brainwashing kids.”

“My dad never let me watch those PSAs about them or any advertisements that had heroes,” you said

“Well, your dad is a smart man.” Hawks said, “I mean that as soon as a kid turns 15 they can go through life-threatening training so they can work under them, and that's what they expect of them.”

“Then there is the fact that your worth is based on how powerful your quirk is.” you said getting up and walking over “and if you don't have a strong quirk you are seen as worthless.”

“Haha, we could go all night saying how horrible they are.” HAwks said giving you two quick taps on the head before stepping out “I’ll be back with some grub.”

“Okay I'll stay here,” you said and waved him off, maybe there was a more personal reason why Hawks hated them, still if he wasn't going to tell you then that was his right, still you thought at least now you wouldn't be bored, but being cooped up in a small room, wasn't exactly who you thought life on the run with a dangerous villain would be.

When Hawks came back with the food you happily indulge in as he smacked the top of an old tv, to get a signal.

“There has been an attempted break-in at U.A, the alarm system went off but there no report of suspense activity-” The reporter was saying before a scruffy looking teacher pushed the camera out of the way

“Go home.”

“Hey you can't just touch property like that, hey what are-” and it was cut off

“Gross.” Hawks said, “You know I can’t Believe they have schools for this.”

“Seems a bit excessive.” you said “you know before heroes came into view it was just the cops, can you imagine if people viewed cops and law enforcement the way they view heroes now,” you said

“I can.” Hawks said spreading his wings out “I don't like them having kids fresh out of MIddle school do training.”

“Well technically they choose this school, but on the other hand it has been installed in them to be a hero from a young age, you have seen all the toys marketed towards them, HPSC is more like a moneymaker, is that why you hate them?”

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Hawks said stealing a bite from your plate “Another part is personal, and I'm assuming it's personal for you as well.”

You looked down at your thumb and sighed “It is now, however, there is another part but it's long been forgotten to me.”

“Aww come on you can tell me.” Hawks said

“Hmmm.” you tapped your chin “well I guess there is no harm in telling you, but my mother was actually a hero but died soon after I was born.”

“Huh like during birth?” Hawks asked, you shook your head

“No, you see she had been out of commission for a while, with the whole baby thing, they were against her having me in the first place, but my mom wanted a family, so they had me and they wanted my mom to make this big come back, but she was hasn't been active for so long she died in the long of duty.”

“I can't begin to imagine the pain of knowing that.” Hawks said

“Well I never knew her, and my dad did everything he could to make me happy growing up, he explained it to me in middle school.”

“Well, you know anything about her?” Hawks asked

“My dad showed me a photo and said I'm the spitting image of her, and i got her quirk but mixed with my dads,” you said

“What's your dads' quirk?”

“Oh he is able to eject a tungsten-like material from his wrist.” you said, “my moms' talons couldn't retreat back in like mine and could chip easier.”

“Wait a second...you are the daughter of the clawed hero?” Hawks said

“That was her code name, why do you ask?” you said

“Oh, I've done research on all the past heroes who died in the line of duty.” Hawks said, “Most of the time it's, they died for the greater good, or they gave their lives for others.”

“That's adding insult to injury to their families.” You said, “Hawks, have you ever killed a hero?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call them heroes, have I killed people who got their hero listens, yes.” Hawks said, “Caught them doing something illegal, when I brought it up they said I was the villain and they were going to capture me.”

“So what exactly is your end goal here?” you asked as you finished up your meal

“To end the HPSC and their crooked practices, like abducting people and ripping their nails off.” Hawks said, “They have a firm grip on the narrative of everything, I'll get it done.” “Well can't wait to see it, it should be interesting,” you said

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere takami #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

End of Blue: Chapter 1

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Gordon Tracy, Scott Tracy, Tracy Brothers

Thunderbird One’s dead in the water. Scott Tracy isn’t responding. Rescues never feel the same when it’s one of their own they have to save.

~~~ Once again, you can all thank, or blame, the wonderful @gumnut-logic for this thing. Two seemingly unrelated vague conversations have ended up culminating in one of my specialties - yup, another Scott!whump, as though I haven’t written enough of these already (no such thing as enough!). Not sure how frequently this is going to be updated - or how long it’ll be. I know what Chapter 2 is going to do and I know there will need to be at least one more chapter after that, but muses do weird things. Title has been snaffled from Beast in Black’s “End of the World”, make of that what you will.

“Gordon!”

John appeared in front of him, looking not quite his usual calm self. For John to be showing that, even to a brother who’d learnt to read his nuances, meant that something was very, very wrong.

Gordon’s hands inadvertently tightened on the controls of Thunderbird Four as he held the sinking ship steady while Alan did the evac in Thunderbird Two. This sounded like terrible timing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, skipping all the quips he’d make if it was just a regular check-in. The loss of John’s fantastic poker face and resulting prickles down his spine told him it was far from one.

“How long until evac’s done?” his space-residing brother asked. An unusual question from their Eye In The Sky, but with Thunderbird Five under annual maintenance, the ginger didn’t have all his usual data. Not even half of it. Maybe that was causing the panic, but it was just that – annual. Nothing unusual, if universally disliked.

“Alan’s clearing the last of them now,” he said. “But I’ve been asked to hold the ship steady until the GDF get here; they’re suspecting something’s-”

“Screw the GDF,” John interrupted, and woah something was really niggling him if he was getting that obviously frantic. “The first instant you can let go of that ship, get the hell back to Two.”

That was not John-typical at all. Gordon’s squid sense almost exploded.

“What’s happened?” he asked. “John, where do I need to be?” He was running through scenarios but he couldn’t think of a single reason John would be hurrying him like this. Not unless-

“Thunderbird One’s down.”

Shit. “In the ocean?”

“North Pacific.”

That was the other side of the world. Two hours, easy, until they got there, and they didn’t even have Virgil to get all the juice out of his ‘bird, what with the collection of broken bones he’d acquired on the last rescue. Gordon forced his hands to relax before he inadvertently gave Four a command he didn’t mean to.

“Scott?” Thunderbird One was watertight, she should be able to hold out as long as she wasn’t too deep. As long as whatever had taken her down hadn’t compromised that… What the hell even took her down?

“Not answering.” John always looked a shade or two off through the holograms, but Gordon suspected that this time the too-pale skin wasn’t entirely a trick of technology. “Too much of Thunderbird Five is still offline; I don’t have telemetry. Brains and EOS are working as fast as they can, but it’ll still be a few more hours before she’s fully back online.”

Gordon was just grateful enough of her was online to register One’s crash.

“Have you told Alan?” he asked.

“He knows you need to get to the North Pacific yesterday,” John answered. “Not why.”

Alan was going to be furious at being left in the dark, but Gordon understood why. He’d have to fill him in on the flight over.

“We’ll get there,” he promised, because there wasn’t another option. They had to. “Give me updates as you get them.”

“F.A.B.” It was a reluctant acknowledgement, but they both knew John was almost useless until Five was fully online. “I’ll update Tracy Island.”

Gordon did not envy him that task one bit. Virgil was going to freak out. Badly.

“That’s the last of them, Gordon,” Alan broke in. “John says-”

“On my way,” Gordon interrupted – okay, so he was a little frazzled, too. Sue him. It wasn’t every day he had to rescue his eldest brother from an unplanned watery landing. “John told me. I’ll fill you in on the details when we’re on the way.” He released the ship and shot back towards his floating module as fast as Thunderbird Four could handle. “Don’t wait for me to get out of Four. Grab the module as soon as I’m docked and go.”

“What about the crew? We need to drop them off, remember?”

Gordon had forgotten about the crew. “Any of them need the hospital?” A high-speed spin and he was in position for the cable to draw Thunderbird Four up the ramp.

“No, but-”

“Then they get a joyride in Two.” Clunk, and the docking began. Maybe he shouldn’t be authorising a nice round trip for a bunch of sailors, but it was already a two hour journey and they had no idea how badly Scott was hurt, or what sort of damage One had taken. Gordon had salvaged downed planes before.

They weren’t pretty.

“Gordon, what-”

“Module’s ready for retrieval,” he interrupted, mostly because he didn’t want to answer the inevitable question just yet. “Haul me up and punch it.”

“F.A.B.” Alan sounded far from happy, but the familiar noises and rocking sensation of module retrieval began.

Despite his instinct being to run straight to the cockpit and fill Alan in, thereby making sure he was indeed going as fast as Two could go, Gordon took his time with his post-dive checks. Thunderbird Four needed to be in top condition for the next rescue, and he refused to jeopardise Scott’s safety by fluffing the checks on the ‘bird that was going to save him.

She was, thankfully, just fine. No warning lights, no errors, scratches or scrapes. Thunderbird Four was more than ready for the rescue.

Now they just had to wait until they got there.

“Explain,” Alan ordered the moment he entered the cockpit. The rescued crew were also looking at him attentively, although thankfully none of them seemed to mind the detour. Gordon ignored them as he sidled into his seat and began checking their flight data.

Alan was a good kid; he’d heard punch it and taken it for the order it was. Thunderbird Two was travelling at top speed, hurtling through the skies towards her drowning sister with everything she had.

Still, there was always room for a little more, and Gordon flicked a few switches.

“Gordon!”

“Thunderbird One’s down,” he admitted. Behind them, he heard the unified gasps of shock from their passengers. “John can’t raise her, and we have no telemetry.”

“In the ocean?” Alan asked. He didn’t sound like he believed it. Gordon just hoped he wasn’t going to go into shock when it sank in. Hell, he hoped he wasn’t going to go into shock when it sank in.

“Yup. No more data, no idea why, no contact. We just know she’s down.”

Despite already reportedly being maxed out, Thunderbird Two sped up. Gordon knew Virgil hated it when Alan or Scott treated her like their own ‘birds and pushed the limits, but he suspected they might get a pass this time.

Speaking of their grounded older brother…

“Gordon, Alan!”

Virgil looked awful. The pyjamas and general ‘injured person’ vibes – including at least one visible cast and general mummification by bandages – aside, it was entirely too obvious that he’d been filled in on what little they knew.

“Receiving you, Virgil. Any way this girl of yours can go any faster?” he answered. “Alan’s trying, but he’s not you.”

“Hey!”

“Make sure you get there in one piece!” Virgil demanded.

“That’s the plan,” Alan promised. “Anything from Scott?”

Virgil’s face tightened, panic and frustration both clearly etched onto his face. It hurt to look at – Gordon knew he wanted nothing more than to be where Alan was right then, getting every last scrap of speed out of his ‘bird. Gordon wanted him there, too, and not just for piloting. Virgil would have a plan, but most importantly, Virgil had the best medical knowledge. If Scott was hurt – not really an if if they weren’t getting any contact from him – Gordon wanted the best man for the job.

The best man was currently stuck in the infirmary with too many broken bones to be of any practical use even once they got Scott home. Gordon and Alan were just going to have to make do with their lesser qualifications.

“Nothing,” Virgil growled, as though the word physically pained him. It probably did.

“Maybe he’s just out of range while Five’s down?” Alan suggested hopefully. They all knew that wasn’t likely, but Gordon wasn’t going to be the one to shoot it down. Not when he wanted to believe it, too.

“I’ll try pinging him from Two,” he said instead, both for something to do and in the vain hope that Alan might be right – never mind that geographically they were further from Tracy Island than Thunderbird One was and their comms were working fine.

“Is there anything we can do?” the ship’s captain asked from behind them. “I know we’re not you guys, but if there’s anything…”

Gordon was so glad they weren’t kicking up a fuss.

“Accept our apologies for the extended trip,” he shrugged. “Otherwise, there’s not much anyone can do until we know more.” He opened the line to Thunderbird One.

It connected. Normally, he’d call that a good start. Now, it just filled him with dread, because it meant comms weren’t down.

“Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Two,” he called. “Scott, are you receiving?”

Silence.

On the other line, Virgil looked almost as pale as John’s normal holographic visage. Whether that was the pain from his injuries, or something less physical, Gordon didn’t dare guess.

“Scott!” he tried again. “Thunderbird One, do you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of visual or a semi-conscious groan of pain. Nothing at all.

The thought crossed his mind that Scott wasn’t even in her.

“John, how soon before you get the cameras back online?” he asked. The ginger head popped up to accompany Virgil’s over the dashboard – Gordon’s earlier observation had been right. Their faces were both the exact same pallor. It wasn’t a good look on either of them. Beside him, Alan wasn’t looking too hot, either. He didn’t dare think about his own appearance. “If we can’t raise him, we can at least try and see what we’re dealing with.”

The line had connected, and he hadn’t heard water. Hopefully that meant she wasn’t leaking and Scott was still comfy and dry, but Gordon wanted to be sure.

Needed to be sure. The rescue would be a lot more complicated without that sort of information.

“Cameras are online, but Thunderbird One’s are turned off right now.” John’s face was the picture of frustration, and he wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding it in his voice, either. “It’ll take a little longer before I can access them to turn them on, but EOS is making it a priority.”

Scott never let any of the rest of them turn their internal cameras off. From now on, Gordon was going to enforce that rule for Thunderbird One, too. If John and Virgil didn’t beat him to it.

Beside him, Alan was sitting in silence, staring ahead as though if he glared at the world hard enough, he could discover the secrets of teleportation. Gordon really wished it worked that way.

Sadly, teleportation didn’t exist, and they were having to do things the slow way. Not that Two was slow, but she certainly wasn’t fast enough. Not today.

The minutes crawled past like hours. With Alan firmly in control and channelling Scott’s inner-speed demon as much as the big green ‘bird would allow, there was little for Gordon to do except periodically try to hail Scott, getting ever more concerned as silence persistently responded. He could understand a black-out for a few minutes, but it was – he checked the time – at least an hour since John had contacted him and there was still nothing on the other end of the line.

Virgil was still there, hovering in his bed-bound state and periodically throwing his own frantic calls Scott’s way. Gordon hadn’t even tried to tell him to leave it to them, reminding him that there was nothing he could do.

No-one knew that better than Virgil, after all, and his frustration at his helplessness was steadily mounting the longer the silence persisted.

With no solid information on what they were going to find – external access cameras, which Scott hadn’t turned off, were merrily showing nothing but water and the occasional sea life investigating the strange intruder – Gordon turned his time towards planning. Plans for an intact Thunderbird One, plans for a leaking Thunderbird One, plans of extraction depending on the severity of Scott’s condition. He might be going in blind, but he wasn’t going to be going in unprepared.

“Coming up on the co-ordinates now.” Alan broke through his planning – this scenario involving Thunderbird One somehow stuck and unable to be airlifted – to give him the heads’ up. His younger brother had been far too subdued the entire flight, and Gordon just hoped he’d be able to keep it together a while longer. Thunderbird Five wasn’t online enough to have remote control access yet.

And she still didn’t have telemetry, which John was panicking over more and more as Scott continued to be non-responsive, or control over Thunderbird One’s internal cameras.

“F.A.B.,” Gordon responded automatically, getting up from his seat and heading straight for the module and his Thunderbird. She was just as he’d left her – fully prepared for the next dive – and he settled into the cockpit with ease of experience.

This was just one more rescue. One with limited information and a brother’s life on the line, but still just one more rescue. He could do this.

He had to do this.

Pre-dive checks were completed, all systems green and raring to go. He wondered if she was as anxious to get to her sister as he was his brother.

“Ready for module deployment,” he reported, and barely a moment later they were falling, crashing into the water and rocking for a moment before they stabilised. “Alan, see if you can get a scan of Thunderbird One’s condition.” It wouldn’t be as good as a Thunderbird Five scan, but immediately overhead, Thunderbird Two should be able to get something.

Thunderbird Four slid out of the module and under the surface to the tune of his brother’s “F.A.B.” Nose pointed down and sonar active, he pushed her as fast as he dared towards the location they had for the downed Thunderbird. It wouldn’t be exact – Thunderbird Five’s maintenance downtime crippling the accuracy – but Gordon had enough faith in it to trust that he was at least in range.

Sonar registered the craft just as Alan called him.

“Scans show one life sign,” he said, and Gordon knew he wasn’t imagining the relief in his younger brother’s voice – mostly because he felt it, too. One life sign meant Scott was alive. Whatever state he was in, he was alive. “But Thunderbird One’s been taking on water. Scans suggest she’s half-flooded.”

That was not such good news. It had to be a small leak, if it was only half after two hours, but with Scott still not responding, he had no idea if his brother was wearing his helmet.

Flooding also meant she was going to be heavier to lift, but the amount of water meant it would be too risky to deploy the tube to link the two craft and attempt to evac Scott into Four. He sent one more ping at the downed Thunderbird, hoping against hope that Scott would answer this time.

He didn’t.

Getting visual on her was a muted sort of relief. On the one hand, Scott was found, but on the other, Thunderbird One was not supposed to be nestled on the seabed. It just wasn’t right.

Her wings were still closed, implying she’d been supersonic, and the nose cone was crumpled from the impact with either the water or the sea floor. Perhaps both. Gordon suspected that was the source of the leak, but he was more interested in the way she wasn’t entirely belly-down. Rolled ever so slightly on her side, he should be able to get some sort of visual through the viewing window.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” he belatedly reported. “Her nose is damaged but otherwise she doesn’t look too bad. She’s not quite belly-down, so I’m going to go EVA and see what I can see through the viewing window.”

He just needed to see Scott. See that he was okay, see if he had his helmet on and if it was intact.

“Be careful,” John warned. “Your suit won’t hold for long at those depths.”

That was normally Virgil’s line, but Virgil had gone silent. Gordon would worry about that later, once Scott was safe.

“I just need to check his condition,” he said, tipping backwards into the airlock. “I won’t be long.”

Compared to Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird One always seemed small. Somehow, in the wide expanse of the ocean, she looked big. Crashed machinery instead of sleek ‘bird. The thought made him shudder as he pushed through the water, heading straight for the panel of window he could see.

Thunderbird One’s emergency lighting was on, dim and shrouding most things in shadow.

It was enough to see that Scott was slumped in the pilot chair. Definitely unconscious, and also not wearing his helmet, because that would have made Gordon’s job too easy.

It wasn’t enough to see why.

He banged on the glass, in case the vibrations could do what persistent comms couldn’t and rouse his brother.

Nothing.

The water was up past Scott’s boots; Gordon couldn’t see how far but his brother was at least partially submerged.

“Alan, we’ll need the lifting bags.” There was no way he could safely get Scott out until they were on the surface.

“Coming down to you now.” It was Virgil who responded, deep voice full of determination. Gordon suspected he’d demanded the remote controls for them. “How is he? Can you see him?”

“I can see he’s still in his seat,” Gordon answered. “Not wearing his helmet, so I can’t evac him until she’s lifted with all that water in her, and still not responding to anything. It��s too dark to see anything else.”

“Any sign of what brought them down?” John asked.

“Nothing,” Gordon admitted, and that concerned him, because what could bring One down – especially with Scott piloting her? “Only damage I’m seeing so far is from the landing.”

“Lift bags incoming,” Virgil warned, and he looked up to see the yellow bags descending.

With one last look at his unmoving brother, eerie with the emergency lighting playing over the water inside, he peeled himself away from the viewing window and swam up to meet them, making sure they were firmly attached to the Thunderbird. No room for error.

“Ready to deploy.”

He swam back to Thunderbird Four, slipping back inside and into the cockpit to watch as the bags inflated and slowly, slowly, peeled the downed ‘bird off of the sea floor.

The ascent seemed to take forever, and Gordon kept pace the entire time, peering through the viewing window as best he could to keep an eye on his brother. There was no movement at all, no reaction to the way his Thunderbird was rising back up to the surface.

If not for Alan’s report of a life sign, he would have been fearing the worst. As it was, he was still terrified that something was badly wrong, although with Thunderbird One mostly intact, he wasn’t sure what. There shouldn’t have been anything to knock him out. Certainly not for this long.

The moment they breached the surface, he latched on to her with Thunderbird Four’s arms and once again left his ‘bird. Gecko gloves gave him the grip he needed to scramble up to Thunderbird One’s dorsal hatch, and with a quick manual override – that thankfully worked – he dropped down into thigh-deep water inside the Thunderbird.

“Scott!” he called, ignoring frantic demands from his brothers that he update them. He’d update them when he knew what was going on himself. Thunderbird One rolled gently with the water she was floating on, somewhat stabilised by Four but not entirely. Not until clanks told him Alan had fired grapples to lock on.

He waded his way towards the pilot chair, eyeing the way Scott was slumped and already mentally running through all the possible reasons for his unresponsiveness. A hand on the shoulder of the seat – not his brother until he knew injuries – and he pulled himself the rest of the way until he was in front of Scott, and-

Oh shit.

He must have said it out loud, because suddenly there were three brothers in his ear – loud and frantic – but he only had eyes for his white, white brother. None of his theories, his suspicions, had been right. Not even close.

Blood-soaked bandages wrapped around Scott’s abdomen, but it wasn’t those that had Gordon’s teeth grinding in a mix of fear and fury. No.

It was the knife buried hilt-deep.

tbc...

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #end of blue

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pinkmingi · 4 years ago

Text

V.I.P // C. San ~ (m)

Description: A wealthy, rising young star stumbles into your camming liveshow one evening and immediately becomes your highest paying client. Needless to say- that role comes with certain added benefits, including private shows that San has every intention of using to his advantage.

word count: 5.3k

Features: San x Camgirl!Reader, mutual masturbation, cum play (light), edging, being paid for sexual services (i.e. camming) etc.

2:04am. You squinted against the harsh light of your phone screen as it vibrated in your hand.

New Message From:

Choi San- Tier 6

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat, even if just for a moment, when you saw his name flash across the screen. You weren’t exactly surprised, between his work schedule (from what little he’d told you about his work) and the time difference he tended to send his requests at all hours of the night, long after you’d finished your regular liveshow and gone to sleep—yet you always seemed to wake up when he messaged. If just 3 months ago you’d been told that you would be willfully getting out of bed to put on your prettiest set of pink lingerie and reapplying your livestream makeup for a single customer at 2 in the morning—you would’ve never believed them. Then again, 3 months ago there was no such thing as a Tier 6.

*3 months earlier*

“Thank you again to all my beautiful new viewers, I see some of you guys in the chat, don’t be shy say to say hello! I promise there’s no judgement here…” You smiled sweetly, flashing the camera your undeniably charming face that had so many clients coming back to your liveshows on a regular basis—you fulfilled their wildest fantasies and you did it with seemingly no effort.

“I’ve been feeling so restless lately, I don’t know what’s gotten into me—there must be something in the weather here…everything’s making me feel, hmm..needy I guess?” You laughed at the way you spoke so casually in front of an audience of strangers, though many of them were regulars and in that sense seemed less strange to you.

“How’s everyone been feeling lately? Don’t be afraid to open up, I really wanna know.” You smiled as you leaned towards the camera, casually showing off a bit more of your cleavage in the delicate and intricate lace bra that hugged you perfectly. 9.3k viewers, your streams really were growing fast.

Kinkydaddyxx76 (Tier 2) has sent you a donation!

Erenda_903 (Tier 1) has sent you a donation!

Justcurious111 (Guest) has sent you a donation!

Lovemeharddom_ (Tier 4) has sent you a donation!

You smiled to yourself as you thanked the members by name for their donations, it was about the personal experience for many of them, and as regulars of your streams you’d always found it important that they be recognized and treated with special care—it was one of the reasons that your streams had become so popular so quickly, despite only camming for a little over a year you’d acquired a large and dedicated group of viewers who you always made sure to treat with great care and respect. That was just part of the job.

“I’m gonna be wrapping up the general admission stream soon you guys, but don’t forget if you want extra access to the after party live show you are always welcome—I have 5 tiers of access available for my very special VIP members, the descriptions of each are listed on my profile. I hope to see as many of you there as possible, my members know how much I love an audience.” You winked playfully, adjusting your seat on the perfectly made bed, giving the camera a killer view of your legs and booty shorts as you read through the chat one last time before getting ready to log off. Just as you were getting ready to wrap up, however, a series of notifications appeared in the chat.

ChoiSinForMe has entered your cam room!

ChoiSinForMe has subscribed!

ChoiSinForMe is now a Tier 5 member!

You eyes widened as you read the last message again—Tier 5. You could probably count on 2 hands the number of Tier 5 subscribers that you had, it was a pretty expensive and elite level—and those who did purchase that level of subscription had been watching you since practically the beginning. You’d never seen this account on your streams before, he was completely new and already he’d become one of your highest paying clients. Taken aback, you nearly forgot to thank the new account for subscribing, your hands fidgeting slightly as you tucked a strand of hair nervously behind your ear. Who was this person?

“Uhmm, whoa…this is unexpected, thank you @ChoiSinForMe for becoming my newest member, welcome to the Princess Playroom, I hope you’ll enjoy your time here!” You smiled sweetly, still feeling a bit giddy and on edge at the prospect of the new member messaging you—that was a perk of Tier 5 members, they had the ability to private message you, as well as make special requests that lower tiers were not permitted to make.

You had just finished thanking everyone for coming, turning off the stream and sitting back against the headboard of your bed as you started at the computer monitor in front of you. You couldn’t get the strange new account out of your head…you couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something so sexy to you about the mystery. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the private message tab of your account, a notification ding sounded through the otherwise quiet solitude of your apartment bedroom. Jumping slightly, you didn’t hesitate to scroll up, unable to contain the intrigued smile that played against your lips as you saw that, in fact, it was from your new subscriber.

New Chat!

ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I’m sorry if I startled you in the live stream earlier

I’ll admit I liked the way your face froze tho

You wouldn’t like to admit the amount of times you read that message over again, overwhelmed with the butterflies you felt in your stomach, and the way your cheeks flushed at the idea that you were getting so worked up over a client. Sure, you’d heard of people camming and getting turned on by the people watching them, but you’d honestly never really experienced that with any one subscriber in particular—they were mostly just nice, slightly older men with more money and time than they could handle. So why did this feel different?

PrincessPlayroom (Host):

It’s nothing I can’t handle, welcome though ~ I’ve never had anyone become a member so quickly after entering my stream before J

His reply was fast, and it sent you into a state of shock almost as quickly.

ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I know what I like. Figured this was the best way to get your attention

I have a proposal, actually—I don’t wanna waste your time, my tastes are specific and I don’t share.

I’m interested in private video calls, noticed that you don’t have that as a feature…but if you’re down to try something like that let me know. The price is…inconsequential.

My name is San, by the way.

You weren’t exactly sure what to say. He was right, that wasn’t something you’d ever offered before. No one had ever requested it before—that wasn’t to say you didn’t receive strange requests because your chat room was filled with out of the ordinary things. But for such a high-paying client to make a request for an individual stream…you weren’t sure what to say. For some reason, you weren’t ready to immediately shut down the request—maybe it was the prospect that this guy, at least from his messages, sounded like he was genuinely ready to pay anything for what he wanted. Something about that confidence made you squirm.

PrincessPlayroom (Host):

That’s certainly a unique offer, you’re right though—that isn’t a Tier 5 perk.

I’m curious though, indulge me in these “specific tastes” of yours, San

You couldn’t help but bite your lip at what he might say, subconsciously squeezing your legs together slightly as you waited for his reply. When your computer dinged again, the message was shorter than you’d anticipated, and very much left you wanting more.

ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I’m not a big texter. Call me on Skype and we can talk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX

And in case you thought I wasn’t serious—

Xoxo, San

ChoiSinForMe has sent you $1000!

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel heat building in the pit of your stomach—should you call him? Who the hell was this guy, who sent you a grand just for entertaining the idea of calling him? Part of you wondered if something like this was really the smartest decision, but the other half of you couldn’t help but follow the intrigue of it all. This had never happened to you before, sure you had a few higher paying clients but none of them were like this. This man was something new. Without giving your mind time to cloud you with reasons why this probably wasn’t a good idea, you’d logged onto your skype account, connected your camera to the computer monitor and turned it on. Sitting upright on your bed, legs outstretched, you fixed your hair slightly before dialing his number. What the fuck were you doing…was this a mistake? Was he gonna end up being a creep or—the sound of the call being answered interrupted your thoughts.

“You look good like this, Princess.” His voice hit your speakers before his camera came into focus, but you swear if you’d been standing his voice alone would’ve been enough to make your knees a little weak. The instant his camera came into focus, your greatest worry came to life—he was ridiculously handsome. Maybe this was why you’d always preferred streaming to a faceless audience, it didn’t feel real. They were just names in the chat, but him? The man in the black t-shirt and grey sweatpants sitting on a king size bed with his head resting in the palm of his hand as he eyed you with a smirk on his lips…he was doing things to you. He was making you nervous, and you never got nervous over things like this. It’s just work, Y/N…it’s just work. He’s a client, that’s it.

“H-hi, I’m sorry, hah...this is all very new for me. I’ve never had a live conversation with a member before.” You blushed, running a hand through your hair as you watched San’s dark eyes, they never wavered from you as he clearly trailed the length of your body—taking his time as he took in the view.

“I guess I must be special then, hmm?” He smiled softly, leaning back on his hands and giving you an all-too perfect view of how tight his sweatpants already were. For some reason, this gave you a surge of confidence. Sure, he may be wealthy, and he may be getting special treatment, but this was your client. He was paying you, he wanted you—you were in charge. You smiled teasingly as you trailed your hand softly down the expanse of your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear as you casually played with the thin elastic band, biting your lip slightly.

“We’ll see…I’m charging you by the hour, by the way.” San laughed slightly at this, nodding in agreement.

“That’s fair…since you’re on the clock, why don’t you tell me your name?” He wasn’t jumping into any far out requests, even though a twisted little part of you wished he would. If he’d asked to see you undone for him right that instant, however, you might be embarrassed by how wet you’d already become.

“You can call me Princ-“

“Your real name, baby.” He interjected, his face unwavering. You never shared your real name with your clients, even your highest tier members.

“You sure do ask for a lot for a Tier 5, don’t you?” You teased, sliding closer to the camera as you watched his face give way to a sinful smile.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be a Tier 5 then…tell me.” He was breaking down your walls quickly, but the thrill of it all outweighed the reservations and rules you’d made for yourself when you first entered the world of camming—things like not letting a client in too close to your personal life, never blurring the line between customer and relationship, never—

“Y/n.” You blurted out suddenly, trying your best not to get flustered at the way San’s eyes twinkled and his pants grew tighter as he repeated your name aloud, humming in approval at the way it fell from his lips.

“Pretty…” He muttered softly, shifting in his seat on the edge of the bed as he watched your gorgeous frame, how your lace lingerie clung to your body just right and the way your hair framed that perfect face of yours—he was especially entranced by your thighs and the way they spread out perfectly against your plush mattress. God he wanted to watch you in every position imaginable.

“I know this must be a bit strange for you…why don’t you ask me a few questions, it might make you feel more comfortable. I’ll do the same, hmm? Let’s say, 3.” San suggested casually, rubbing his finger thoughtfully against his bottom lip as you blushed at the fact that you were supposed to be the professional, yet he was guiding the conversation. Laughing softly, you nodded.

“Hmm, someone seems to know what they’re doing, do you do this with other content creators here?” You were laughing, but a small part of you hoped he’d say no. San smirked, running a hand through his dark black hair as he shook his head.

“Is that your first question?” You blushed slightly, rolling your eyes as you nodded.

“Yes.” He smiled.

“No. I’ve actually never done this before either, I’ve always wanted to…but I never really found a person I was…interested in like this before.” He paused as you tried to hold some semblance of professionalism together, nodding thoughtfully as you felt your stomach knot.

“My turn…why’d you agree to try this?” You didn’t have to think long on your answer before you replied.

“You intrigued me, I think something about you was just…sexy.” You loved the visibly turned on reaction that San tried to suppress as the last word left your lips, his hand coming to lay across the inseam of his sweatpants in a half-hearted attempt to disguise what was becoming an increasingly noticeable erection. Clearing his throat, he chuckled softly. You knew what you were doing to him and it was driving him wild far more easily than he’d anticipated.

“How old are you?” You asked back, playing absentmindedly with a fluffy throw pillow on your bed, laying down in a more comfortable and relaxed position now as you felt the chemistry begin to unfold between the two of you.

“I’m 21. Younger than you’re used to?” You laughed softly, nodding. How was he so wealthy and still so young?

“So are you a self-made kinda rich boy, or the old family money kind?” A cheeky grin spread across San’s face as you asked your final question.

“I’m fortunate to have a good job, the details aren’t important but…it’s given me a comfortable life. I try to keep my work and private life separate, I’m sure you’re plenty familiar with confidentiality though…” You nodded thoughtfully as you eyed his broad shoulders and veiny arms, even through a computer screen his incredible shape was apparent.

“Last question, y/n…” He murmured softly, causing shivers to run down your spine at cadence of his honey voice.

“Mmm…” You replied, squeezing your thighs tightly together in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the built up tension this almost stranger was causing you feel. What he said next, however, would send you completely over the edge.

“Are you wet for me right now?” Your body froze as you attempted to collect your flustered self, hating the way he was clearly eating it up as his hand slowly palmed at his fully hard cock through the fabric of his pants, not even trying to hide the large bulge that was begging to be released.

“Y-yes.” You muttered softly, entranced by the way he took control of the situation. He hummed lowly in approval, sliding his hand underneath the waistband of his sweatpants as you watched the outline of his fingers stroke himself. He was ridiculously hot, but you figured he already knew that. You blushed, doing your best to bite back the sinful smile that threatened to flicker across your face as you felt your aching needs growing stronger by the minute. This man was really something if his presence alone was enough to make you falter—but you couldn’t forget, this was your show. Pulling your hair back away from your face and sliding yourself closer to the camera, you flashed him a knowing look as you tilted your head slightly. Your confidence was back.

“Did I say you could stroke yourself already?” Your soft voice echoed out against the speakers of his laptop like honey, and there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in his mind that if you’d been in the room with him this would’ve been the moment where he’d pin you against the wall and dare you to disobey him. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his gaze low and his hair hanging over his eyes as he slowed the pace of his hand.

“Mmm, it’s cute you think you’re in charge, (Y/N)…Truly.” He wasn’t going to cave easily, you didn’t expect him to. Truthfully, you didn’t want him to. Something about the chase, the push and pull—the rising tensions of the seemingly endless back and forth, it fueled you.

Not backing down so easily, you retorted,

“You can’t even help yourself around me for five minutes—I think that’s proof enough.” San smirked, biting his lip shamelessly as he pushed his hair away from his face. Making eye contact with you through the screen, he watched in enjoyment as your cheeks flushed slightly while his hand tightened around the sizeable bulge in his pants, quickening his movements slightly and raising an eyebrow as though challenging your previous statement.

“I’m paying you to say pretty things and watch me jack off, princess—that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you have your way with everything…” You could feel your core heating up when he called you princess, it’d always been a favorite pet name of yours. Fiddling with the hem of your panties, you slid a finger just below the waistband as you teased him with the image of what you’ll look like without them. It wasn’t hard to tell his eyes were glued to your body, his eyes dark and filled with lust as you continued to tease him with your words.

“Mmm…my show, my rules. I’m not just gonna sit here and obey your every order, yknow. I’m not that kind of girl, Mr. Choi.” His jaw went slack when you addressed him that way, his mouth hanging just slightly agape as he threw his head back, the prominent veins in his arms showing as he balanced his weight on his free arm that propped him up—his right hand pre-occupied as he continued to quicken the pace of his strokes. You could see the swelling in his sweatpants and you could feel your panties becoming soaked at the mere idea of him finally releasing the beast he was fighting to hold back. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower and more gravelly than it had been before, he was becoming more and more depraved the longer you teased him without touching yourself—without showing him everything he was hungering to see.

“A good girl?” You smirked, you had him exactly where you wanted him. You had to admit though, he may have had you right where he wanted you as well.

“I’m nothing of the sort.” His long strokes slowed slightly as he began to pace himself, not ready to tip himself over the edge without watching you cum all over your fingers. He could tell you were wet for him and, though he couldn’t be sure, he had confidence that that alone made him stand out amidst your other clients. He’d only just met you, but it only took one look in those sinfully pure eyes to know that he desperately wanted—no, needed—to make you cum.

“And what kind of girl are you then, hmm?” The heat and pressure rising in your core was too much to bare at this point, and you’d decided that the poor man had earned what he was so obviously craving—you. Without another thought, you unclasped the back of your bra, letting it fall to the side as your breasts were now fully exposed for him. A low groan sounded from your speakers and you could tell he was more than enjoying the view. Not finished with him just yet, you slipped your fingers under the hemline of your panties, sliding them down until the lace crumpled around your ankles and you were left completely bare on your bedspread. Spreading yourself out for him to see, you leaned back and slowly slid your hand down to relieve the pressure building up inside you. A low “fuck” hissed out between San’s gritted teeth as he edged his stroking along, the slow pace becoming almost excruciating.

“What kind of girl do you want me to be?” You teased, nearly breathless already as a single finger slid between your soaked folds, easing its way inside you with a few pumps as a small moan escaped your lips. San groaned as his grip tightened around his length at the sound of your pretty moans ringing in his ear, licking his lips as he finally couldn’t take the restrictive fabric any longer. Without hesitation, San yanked his sweatpants down until they were around his ankles where he effortlessly discarded them, his throbbing length proudly on display as a small gasp left your mouth. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to men jacking off to you—but you’d never seen it live like this, and something about it was ridiculously sexy. The fact that this particular client was Choi San didn’t hurt, though.

“I want you to be the kind of girl who rides her own pretty, little fingers until she cums to the sound of my voice. I want you to moan my name…my first name, like you’d give anything to be here riding my dick right now. Because I know you would.” This time it was you who was slightly at a loss for words, biting down hard against the insides of your cheeks as you sucked in a deep breath, nodding as you opened your legs to give him an even better view of your sinful touches. He was right, eyeing the long and girthy member pulsating in his hand you couldn’t help but wish that you had something more to get off to instead of just your fingers.

“Can you do that for me, baby…hmm?” He re-focused his strokes to just the tip of his cock, massaging the head with an unrelenting pace as he dragged the pad of his thumb over the tip, swiveling his wrist ever so slightly as he continued the shallowed pumps. You nodded.

“Mmmm, yes, San. Only if you cum for me just as hard…” His eyelids lowered slightly as his gaze became lazy, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded, speeding up his strokes as he watched you slide another finger inside of your glistening hole, moaning at the added pressure as your thumb drew circles against your clit, pressing down with gradually increasing pressure to help you relieve the pressure you’d lost from opening your legs.

“Oh I plan on it, princess—now turn around for me. I wanna see that ass nice n’ high while you touch yourself.” You turned around easily, pressing your chest against the mattress and arching your back as your ass perked up, sliding your hand up between your thighs and griding your clit down against the palm of your hand as a couple fingers slid back inside your heat. San’s low groans grew louder and more breathless as his strokes became longer and more staggered, enjoying the view of you bent over for him and fantasizing about the way you’d feel if he ever had the opportunity to bend you over and rail you himself.

“Fuuck, just like that—mmmm, you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?” You moaned at the way his once soft, now raspy voice teased you. Propping yourself up with your free arm you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, smirking.

“A good girl would beg you to stroke yourself slowly…so slow that you’re almost in pain, begging me to let you go faster and finish yourself off.” San smirked, not always liking the idea of submitting in the bedroom but willing to entertain this small idea for you.

“Does that mean you’re a good girl then? I mean, you are begging me…” You turned yourself back around, sitting in your knees with your legs spread as you leaned forward onto your hands as he watched the rise and fall of your breasts keep pace with your heavy breaths.

“I’m not begging you, I’m telling you.” This time, San listened, allowing you to have your way this once as he slowed his long pumps to a painfully slow pace, already feeling his load building and swelling in his balls as he adjusted himself on the bed, his breathing becoming even more ragged than before. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you took in the sight of his slightly sweaty body and the way his hair clung to the sides of his face from the building beads of sweat. He was completely strung out at this point, his gaze filled with pure lust and his lips barely capable of forming sentences as he threw his head back once again, echoing incoherent slurs of curse words and moans. The action alone was enough to send you over the edge, but you held yourself together as you pumped your fingers even faster inside yourself, your needy moans growing in volume.

“Fuck you look so pretty like that, Y/N….tell me how good it feels…” Screwing your eyes shut as you hit that perfect sensitive spot, a breathless moan escaped your lips as you nodded.

“S-so good…Aahhh, fuck you’d feel so much better, though…” A wide smile spread across San’s face as his eyes remained closed, nodding as he hummed in approval. His cock was throbbing even harder than before, hungry for release as he continued to obey you.

“Mmmm, I must be something special if you’re considering riding the dick of a stranger you just met…” His voice vibrating through the speakers made you wish his mouth was around your clit, sucking down hard as he groaned into your tight and aching pussy. You knew it was wrong, and that this kind of attraction to a client was completely foreign to you—but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Mmmff fuck, shut up and cum already.” You breathed out, whining against the sensations of your fingers as San chuckled lowly, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally began to quicken his strokes, feeling the pressures build as he neared his release. You were riding your fingers at this point, your breasts bouncing up and down as you picked up the pace, needy for your own climax as you watched the man you knew hardly anything about turn you on more than anything real you’d encountered in a very long time.

“Shit, Y/N…your body is fucking insane…” San breathed out, his strokes ruthless and sloppy as his hips bucked up to meet his hand, unable to express in words how badly he wished it was you on top of him instead. You moaned, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Aahhh god I’m close.” You whined, curling your fingers up to stroke your pressure points as you arched your back and threw your head back from pleasure. This was all it would take for San to be tipped over the edge, his breathing hitched in his throat as he continued to speed up his needy strokes.

“Cum for me, princess—all over those pretty little fingers. I wanna watch you lick them clean…” With that, you managed a dazed nod before grinding your hips down against your hand one last time, the pressure becoming too much as you finally tipped over the edge and your orgasm ran through your entire body. Your pretty moans were enough to send him hurdling towards his own orgasm as you rode out your high. Breathing slow, you eased your fingers out and made eye contact with the man who’d made you cum with nothing but his voice as he groaned, stroking himself hard. He was ridiculously close, but the moment you bit your lip and slid your soaking wet fingers inside your lips, swirling your tongue around them and licking them clean just as he’d told you to—he couldn’t take it anymore. Thick, creamy white ropes erupted from his cock, covering his thighs and the bedsheet beneath him as he groaned, inhaling sharply and tilting his head back in ecstasy as you moaned yourself at the ridiculously sexy view. Several spurts dripped down his hand as he slowed his strokes, massaging the glistening head of his cock slowly as his eyes shut and he rode out one of the most intense orgasm’s he’d ever felt. Breathing heavily, the two of you were sat in euphoric silence for a moment as you took in the pleasure that was still coursing through your bodies.

‘Fuck…”He muttered out after a moment. You blushed slightly, smiling at the reassurance that he’d enjoyed himself.

“For someone who’s never done that before…you sure knew what you were doing.” He laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed a towel from nearby, cleaning himself off lazily as you did the same, smiling.

“Well it is my job…it was definitely something new though.” You teased, winking playfully as San smiled in return.

“So let’s make it a regular thing then.” He blurted decidedly. You gave him a questioning look. Sure a small part of you hoped that you’d get the opportunity to do something like this or more again, but you hadn’t held out hope. You’d assumed he was more of a “one time” client.

“For real?” He smiled, nodding as he slid his sweatpants back on, watching as you sat comfortably bare in front of him, adoring the way you allowed him to watch you.

“Yeah, of course. You had fun, I had fun—well, I had a lot of fun…no one’s made me cum like that in a while.” A small blush threatened to tinge your cheeks, though you crossed your fingers it wasn’t noticeable through the screen as he marveled in the idea that someone as sexy as him was turned on by you. Not sexy enough to get it for free though (at least not yet).

“And the price is…” You teased, taunting him. He smirked, shaking his head as he sat upright, his elbows on his knees.

“Like I said, baby—inconsequential. Get some rest, think it over, ok? Message me when you’re ready to say yes.” His confidence was insatiable, and you’d grown a taste for it. Biting your lip, you nodded slowly.

“And what if I decide a Tier 5 member doesn’t deserve all this special treatment, hmm?” He scoffed lowly as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer to the camera despite his voice being barely above a whisper.

“Then make a higher tier. Get some sleep now, ok princess?”

~admin liese

☆Requests Open!☆

#ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #choi san #choi san x reader smut #choi san x reader #kpop smut #choi san x camgirl #boy group smut #requests open #ateez choi san #choi san smut

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pineapplesagainstpizza · 4 years ago

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Magnus Pies: A TMA Pizza AU

- All the entities and supernatural creatures still exist but it happens in a pizza place called the “Magnus Pies ®” established by Jonah Magnus.

- Jon is the new, under qualified manger. Very good a diffusing arguments and misinformation with customers. Practically a living coupon fraud detector. Once Martin overheard Jon use the phrase “please calm down” to a customer. Thinking that this would escalate the conversation, Martin braced himself from the kitchen. He was spooked quite a bit that the customer did calm down. He can’t tell if Jon is just that charming or if he can hypnotize people.

- Jon actually had some sliver of respect for Martin when they first met. Up until, he caught Martin whispering "Looking good little guys" to the pizzas baking in the oven. Jon has never looked at him the same since.

- Martin has mastered the customer service voice. In fact, it’s permanent. Every time he answers the phone, his voice automatically sweetens. Sasha and Tim have made fun of him for it. Working at Magnus Pies has broken him so much.

- Tim works the register. Flirts with customers so that they’ll come back. Can’t stand slow days. It’s actually Tim that makes the best pizza out of the crew.

- Ft. Sasha the pizza delivery girl. Eldritch horrors won’t stop her from delivering your pizza on time.

- Elias is the owner and hardly ever shows up.

- Instead of statement givers the customers will just overshare their supernatural encounters to the staff. Jon doesn’t think anything of people sharing their ghost stories to him. He writes it off as desperate customers craving any source of human interaction. Despite this, he remembers every tale a customer has told him.

- “Then after I kissed him, his body combusted into flames.”

“Sorry to hear that... That will be 17.89. ″

- There’s this one customer that orders questionable pizzas with special delivery instructions and has his pizza delivery scheduled every Wednesday at 5 pm. His requests went from a little strange to down right outlandish. One of his first orders, he instructed them to make a smiley face out of the pepperonis because he was “having a bad day.” One of his most recent orders was “a cheese-less pizza cheese pizza.” In the delivery instructions, he explains his doorbell is broken and suggests the delivery person to drop the pizza off in the middle of the yard and then “yell whatever feels right” to alert him of the pizza’s presence. Sasha often wonders if she has to cater to all his odd demands.

- The first time Sasha delivers to his house, the GPS malfunctioned? The customer’s house resides in a new residential area. So once she drove past the last known road, the GPS advised her to park her car and walk to her destination. She obviously ignored the computer automated voice and eventually found the house on her own. Since he always commands the delivery runner to drop the pizza outside his house, Sasha has never seen his face but the name he orders under is Micheal. (If that’s even his real name.)

- Is the pizza good? The reviews are mixed. Martin says “its fine”. Sasha thinks “it’s pretty good for the price.” Tim, on the other hand, is fully convinced that when Jonah Magnus created Magnus pizza, he had never eaten a pizza before in his life. He claims "the pizza is two hell circles away from mediocrity." If a person asked Elias, he would maintain that Magnus Pie pizza is of high quality, but the staff have never seen him eaten it before. As for Jon, he refuses to try it.

- The uniforms are pretty cute. A transparent green tennis visor paired with a black collared shirt with logo on the right upper chest portion.

- This one time, someone spray painted a satanic circle in the parking lot and Elias botched and moaned about it for a week about how "it was driving customers away." He stops complaining about it after an angry goth boxed an old man on top of the circle one afternoon. Their fight drove in a crowd. Some people even bought a slice just to get a good view of the fight. Jon, of course, called the authorities but both parties fled before they arrived.

- Martin finds a homemade employee training tape from the 1980s hiding in the closet. It features an instructional video on how to make the pizzas but the employee or paid actress?? featured in the video disregards Magnus Pies’s official pizza guidelines™ and instead gives advice/ tips on how to cut corners (and arguably offers more valuable advice to employees). “Yeah I know the recipe calls for this much cheese but i always add to more handfuls. Most customers complain about how there isn’t nearly enough cheese -- how it’s practically tomato sauce with cheese sprinkles.” Whether it’s the dread in the lady’s eyes or the neglect of company policies, the tape is unfinished. The video cuts off after she places the pizza in the oven.

- Martin thinks the the training video is hilarious, so of course, he shares it with the rest of the staff. It’s Sasha that points out that one of the employees in the background looks like a younger version of Elias. A passionate debate breaks out on whether that person is actually Elias, but ends once Jon points out that Elias has complete heterochromia and the teenage boy in the video does not.

- On a team building trip, Martin, Sasha, and Tim admit that they are glad Jon joined the team. Ever since he joined, the workplace has never been so lively. They all agree Jon’s presence attracts the unusual. Though he will never admit it, Jon found it touching.

- Some customers would describe the pizza joint as “eerily clean.” "The vibes are simply rancid” says one customer. Even with the speaker churning out today’s hottest pop hits (in a muffled tone), it is entirely too quiet. The atmosphere is dead,” says another.

- “Little human activity and huge open spaces makes it somewhat spectral but the short wait times and fair food always brings me back. ⭐⭐⭐” - a google review from a town local

- One person gave them a bad review on Yelp. After they were done insulting the food, they moved on to assess the staff. “I’m usually not the type to complain/nit pick about employees but there was one that made me extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t the warmest person, had an awfully posh accent, and sported dark circles under his eyes. When I spoke to him, his gaze was intense and unwavering. Throughout the entire conversation, he didn’t blink once. Even as a sat down, I could still feel his eyes lingering on me. I’m not an insecure person in the slightest but being watched like that, made me self conscious of my own breathing. I spun around once to see if he was staring at me, but to my surprise, he wasn’t. I may have never caught him staring at me, but I know he did. The sensation of being watched never ceased afterward. (half star emoji) ”

- Apparently, the joint has been open since the 1940s and despite the bad food and less than average traffic of customers, they’re still in business. There’s rumors that the Magnus Pie receives generous donations from Elias’s rich ex-lover that misses him dearly.

- Starring several disagreements/ arguments with customers. Just a bunch of misinformation that was spread by Elias to lure people into the building to feed the Eye.

- Sasha is late returning from a delivery one day, and after an hour they try to contact her. She’s unresponsive. Elias goes looking for her but comes back short. Later that night, they get a call from the hospital informing them that Sasha got into a car accident and fell unconscious upon impact. Sasha comes in for a shift a few weeks later, and nobody realizes she’s not Sasha.

- The Magnus Pies’s odd reputation attracts the attention of popular YouTuber, Melanie King. She eventually becomes a regular in hopes of catching a supernatural event on camera for her channel. After experiencing a handful of odd encounters, she becomes engrossed by the place and starts working there in hopes of piecing together an explanation for the pizzeria’s paranormal activities. She later regrets this.

- has the potential to be a good tragicomedy

#and maybe perhaps all the characters are aged down just a little #can you tell i've got a thing for fast food AUs #this is obviously based off of some of my experiences #tma #the magnus archives #magnus pod #tma au #crack au?? but also not #but imagine the magnus archives as a slice of life horror comedy

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Misguided Ghost ~ Zak Bagans Ch. 10

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Student teaching, plus class and working on my TPA's is insane right now! My cooperating teacher decided to forgo the original plans for her 3rd graders in math, and tasked me with making the lessons for this week from scratch...and I'm being observed later today. Distance learning has been interesting to say the least lol

I am working on the next chapter of my Nathan MacKinnon story so hopefully I have that out around Friday/this weekend!

Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Catching Flights and Feelings

“Mia, have you researched anything on Mickey’s Tavern in Georgia yet?” Zak asked as he walked into my office Monday morning, a week after being back from my first lockdown. Things have been back to normal between Zak and I, if you call what we had before normal. I could tell he was getting used to me being around and the snarky comments had subsided. He spent most of the days walking between my office and his, usually to end up sitting on the other side of my desk with his laptop. I had placed a new air diffuser with the same scent I had in his office, but he still said it wasn’t the same and would just stay in my office. Aaron has been teasing me, but I just brush it off.

I nodded and held up a pile of papers while I was reading through an article for a different location. Zak took them from me and sat down in his newly claimed spot in my office. Once I finished the article and highlighted what I thought stood out, I looked over my laptop at him. “Why did you want that one? I’ve done research on like 10 other locations that came in before them,” I asked, curious because he hasn’t before asked me for information on a specific site. Zak sighed and looked up from the papers. “The owner emailed me last night, then called me this morning. I guess the activity is really becoming too much to where it’s affecting his business. He was hoping we could investigate it sooner rather than later,” Zak informed me. I nodded. “Ok so, I researched that one on Friday and from what I can remember the reports are kind of crazy. Are we going to go?” I asked, taking a sip of my tea. Zak smirked at me. “Crazy is what we do here Mia. Nervous?” he asked. I laughed at his tease, as I knew now he didn’t mean anything by it. “Put me in coach,” I smirked back. Zak let out a chuckle and with a wink, left my office to presumably tell the others. ~ ~ ~ Two days later we were all at the airport, waiting to board. I had just met Jay Wasley and he seemed nice. Our flight was at 6:30 in the morning, which means I had woken up at about 3:30 to make sure I was ready when Zak and Aaron picked me up at 4:30. I was listening to my music while everyone did their own thing when Nick walked up to me and nudged my foot with his as he sat across the aisle from me. I opened my eyes and saw him holding out a tray of coffee, with one marked as a decaf pumpkin spice latte. I smiled and reached for it. “Bless your soul sir,” I said, Nick laughed and handed everyone else their drinks. Zak came over and sat next to me. “So you do drink coffee?” he asked, taking a sip of his. I smiled and shrugged. “Decaf when I know I can handle it,” I informed him. He gave me a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?” I sighed, debating if I should tell him the whole truth. I didn’t mind talking about my anxiety, but it was also a conversation I try to avoid at times. “Caffeine messes with my anxiety. In grad school I developed really bad separation anxiety from my family. I had no one in San Francisco and apparently that is not good for me. I was already stressed out with school that everything just came to a head and I actually would get sick all the time and lost about 20 pounds. It was to the point I would shake and feel light headed when I didn’t eat at regular intervals. I stopped drinking coffee and I was able to manage it better. Turns out I always had separation anxiety when I looked back to elementary school with my mom. No one just really talked about it then,” I looked down at my coffee, unsure of what his response would be. “Do you need to eat something now? I can get you a bagel or something,” Zak asked softly. I looked back at him and he looked a bit concerned. I laughed lightly. “No, I’m better now. I gained a few pounds back when I got home from school and it helped. Also keeping myself busy and being around friends takes my mind off of it so, hence why I can drink decaf at least. Thank you though,” I smiled at him. “Oh so we’re friends now?” he teased me, and I bumped into his shoulder. “Well I was talking more about Aaron, but I guess I would consider you an acquaintance” I teased back. Zak put his hand to his heart in fake hurt. “Ow! Ok, I see how it is.” He laughed. “But seriously, that doesn’t sound great. Why chose to come to Vegas and leave your family again?” “It was time to branch out again. I don’t want my anxiety to control me, and it honestly isn’t as bad as others. I’m lucky that way. Plus, I figured a three in a half hour drive from home was better than a seven in a half one so I thought I would give it go,” I explained. Zak nodded. “Well, thanks for sharing that. I’m sure I didn’t help in the beginning,” he said, looking a little upset with himself. I was starting to see the guy away from the cameras that Aaron had told me about, and I wanted to see more. “Not really. But you’ve gotten better,” I smiled at him. He chuckled and took another sip as our boarding time was called out.

Perks of traveling for the Travel Channel, business class seats! Instead of being crammed in a three-seat row, we had spacious two seat rows and I was ready for our nonstop four-hour flight to Atlanta, Georgia. I sat next to the window as Aaron sat next to me as our tickets stated. Zak and Nick were in front of us, with Billy and Jay across the aisle. Aaron settled into his seat, then turned to look at me. I was staring out the window, but I could feel his eyes on me. I turned to him and raised my eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“You and Zak seem to be getting cozy,” he whispered with a smirk. I looked toward Zak and he had his headphones in so I don’t think he heard. Looking back at Aaron, he had a look on his face like he knew what I was thinking. “We’re just becoming friends. Leave it alone,” I whispered hissed at him. Aaron rolled his eyes but kept his smile. I laughed and shook my head, looking back toward the window. I felt him shift next to me and when I turned to look, he was leaning forward tapping Zak on the shoulder. I stared at him thinking he wasn’t doing what I thought he was. Oh…but he was.

“Bro I need to talk to Nick about something. Mind switching?” Aaron asked Zak. Zak looked at me as I tried to hid in the hood of my jacket and hoped my cheeks weren’t too red. I wanted to shove Aaron.

“Not at all,” I heard Zak say. I looked up as they switched and Aaron winked at me. I shook my head slightly, then tried to smile when Zak took a seat. “Hope you don’t mind,” Zak said with that charming smile of his. I shook my head and smiled back, bringing my knees up to my chest as we got comfortable and ready for takeoff.

About an hour into the flight, I had drifted off to sleep only to be woken with a start when the plane became bumpy and the captain came over the speakers to ask all passengers to put their seatbelts on. I looked around with wide eyes and Zak must have realized I had no clue what was going on. “Hey, hey it’s ok. We just hit some turbulence,” he said, reaching for my hand. I let him intertwine our fingers as my heart started to slow back down. I smiled lightly at him, slightly embarrassed by my panic.

“Sorry,” I said quietly. He smiled and shook his head.

“Don’t be,” he stated, and went back to looking at his phone. I looked down at our hands and I could feel myself start to blush. It was strangely comforting knowing he was right there. I squeezed his hand reflexively as the plane gave another jolt. It’s not like I’ve never been through turbulence on a plane before, but it still didn’t mean that I liked it. Zak gave a reassuring squeeze to my hand and put his phone down, shifting his body so he was facing me more. “Why don’t you tell me about the history of this bar we’re going to,” he asked lightly. “I’m ok, honestly,” I said, feeling bad I took him away from what he was doing before. Zak smiled.

“Who said I was doing this for your benefit?” he winked. I rolled my eyes but smiled none the less. I quietly began listing off what I remembered about the site, Zak asking questions here and there. Thirty minutes later the seatbelt sign was turned off again but Zak didn’t let go of my hand, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel like there were butterflies in my stomach. About an hour later, we were getting ready to land. Only then Zak let go of my hand to put his backpack away and I couldn’t stop myself from feeling slightly disappointed. Though we had started talking about the location, we then started talking about music and concerts we’ve been to, and just life in general. We were really starting to get to know each other, and I was happy he was trusting me enough to open up.

Once off the plane, we claimed our luggage and all the tech equipment, heading off to the rental car area. Because there were 6 of us and many bags, we ended up with two SUVs. Billy and Jay in one with all the tech equipment, and the rest of us in the other with the luggage. I sat in the back with Aaron as Nick drove and Zak was in the passenger seat. I was watching Aaron as he was trying to hid his phone from me, but kept looking up with a goofy smile. I laughed at him as my phone and Zak’s both rang with a notification. Aaron gave me a huge smile as I looked at him suspiciously. “I’m scared to look at that,” I whispered and Zak shot around.

“Dude, seriously?” he didn’t seem mad or irritated, just slightly chuckled and shook his head. I looked between the two of them. Oh God…I picked up my phone and saw the Instagram notification that Aaron had tagged me in a post. I opened it up and my jaw dropped. Crap…

Aarongoodwin: The newbie can’t handle early morning travel #ghostadventures #travelbuddies #adoptedlilsis

Above the caption was a picture that Aaron shot over his head with him making a laughing face. I was fast asleep on Zak’s shoulder, with my knees curled up to my chest and leaning in his direction as well. Zak looked unphased, face in his phone, not noticing what Aaron was up to. To be honest, the picture was cute. But I was slightly mortified. What is Zak thinking? What are the fans going to think? Aaron just posted the picture two minutes ago and it already had over 400 likes and 53 comments. But one stood out.

Realzakbagans: What can I say? I make a good pillow. I looked up to see Zak watching me. When I caught his eyes he winked at me, then turned back around. I laughed and shook my head.

NotMiaThermopolis: OMG! @realzakbagans sorry! @aarongoodwin I hate you. #notamorningpersonBoth Zak and Aaron checked their phones at the same time. Zak let out a bark like laugh as Aaron yelled “Hey!” Nick stopped at a red light and turned toward us.

“Will someone please fill me in?” he asked. Zak showed him the post and he started laughing. “Ok, that is a cute picture though. I will have my two cents in about it once we get to the hotel.” I looked at Aaron and shook my head as he gave me puppy dog eyes.

“You suck,” I laughed and smiled at him. He gave me a big smile as we all settled back into our seats for the hour drive out of Atlanta.

#zak bagans imagine #zak bagans x reader #zak bagans #Ghost Adventures #ghost adventures x reader #ghost adventures imagine #misguided ghost

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rq-s · 4 years ago

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Title: Perfect

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo / F!Reader

Genre: Fluff & American College/University AU

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: None.

Summary: You’re nearing your college graduation, your photography degree is practically in your hands already. But every time you look through your portfolio, something is missing. And you knew exactly what it was.

My Masterlist

I couldn’t help but stare. A boy with eyes that piercing and teeth that shiny was hard to come by, and he was just who I needed.

I eyed him for my entire lunch break, watching him as he sat in the grass with his back against one of the few birth trees on campus. I watched as he shoved vending machine popcorn in his mouth while reading a textbook like it was a bestseller. It was surprisingly interesting. From what I heard around campus, he was as stoic as they come, but I wondered if that was just rumor when he sucked on his slightly fingertips to get the butter off them instead of using a napkin.

“Your boyfriend knows Wonwoo, right?” I asked after getting my friend’s attention. She was directly in front of me, making it easy to look over her shoulder to the man in question without seeming too obvious.

“They’re both in music theory I think, why?” She answered just as absentmindedly as I’d asked. I shrugged and took my phone out to search my contacts for her boyfriends’ name.

“I’m gonna ask him for Wonwoo’s number.” I said, bracing for the reaction I knew I’d get.

“Oh I see~ You finally over that dry spell?” Our group of friends joked and cooed at me, teasing the fact that maybe their “frigid friend” was warming up. I resigned to let them think whatever they wanted, knowing they wouldn’t take my real reason to get close to Wonwoo seriously. He’s just the type of handsome that I needed for my portfolio.

The sun was falling, signaling that evening classes were going to start soon. For me though, the rest of the day was mine. I fell back into my bed with a thump, fingers laced over my forehead as I fought between wanting to get work done or just lazing in bed for the rest of the day.

My phone rang before I could decide.

“Hey, what did you need?” A heavy but hurried voice spoke as soon as I answered. There was no caller ID, but it could only be one man. I was taken aback at his directness; I’d just sent a text saying my name and that I wanted his help with a project. He must be an opportunist to call a stranger after so little information.

In my slow register of the situation, I heard him speed walking somewhere, mumbling “excuse me” as he went.

“If you have time, I’d like to take some pictures of you.”

“For photography? Sure, I’ll text you when I’m free, alright?” He rushed, hanging up before I could finish saying okay. How did he know it was for photography? Sure, I carried my camera with me everywhere I went, but how could he know?

“Back to back classes that are across campus from each other are the worst.” He texted me an apology a few minutes later. I assured him that it’s fine, and added a gentle pester for him to focus during class. Something about him seemed to conflict: his naturally intimidating aura clashed with his lack of formality.

I was only becoming more certain that he was who I needed.

Nearly 3 hours later he texted me that he should be free for the rest of the evening. Knowing the rules against having a guy come into the girls’ dorms, especially after sunset, I invited him to a small diner near the middle of the campus where we could talk about specifics. Luckily, he agreed.

When I arrived, he was already there with a half empty glass of soda and 2 menus laid on the worn-out table. It seemed like he’d been here a while, scrolling his phone mindlessly while he waited for me. I checked my phone just to be sure for the 5th time tonight that I wasn’t late but seeing him there alone made me feel guilty anyway.

I weaved though tables of happy couples, study groups, and families to meet him at the burgundy leather booth. He smiled once he noticed me, adjusting his beige cardigan that hung on his broad shoulders and pulling the cuffs down to cover his thin wrists - it was as if he was surprised to see me here.

“I hope you haven’t been here for too long.” I said concernedly, sitting across from him and setting my bag beside me.

“I… have. I figured it would be easier than going all the way back to my dorm for a whole 2 minutes before I had to head back down here.” He grabbed his glass with one hand but didn’t pick it up, instead he tapped his fingernails against it, making the ice hit the sides in a surprisingly rhythmic way.

“That’s smart, actually. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” This was a place I went often for dinner, so I didn’t need to look through the menu. This meant looking at each other awkwardly while we waited for the waiter to come by.

I tried to be discrete as I looked him over. Seeing him up close was so much different than watching him from across the park or the hallways. He was thin, but still appeared strong, that was clear even with the slightly oversized clothes he was wearing. His skin seemed silky smooth but also like it could start smoking like dry ice at any moment.

He was looking at me too, his deep brown eyes wandering my face and torso casually. The shape of his nose, his eyes, his jaw… everything was perfect. Even they way his bangs fell over his brow and how his glasses left red marks on the bridge of his nose was perfect.

“Why did you say I have ‘the look’?” He asked blatantly, but from his tone I could tell he wasn’t bothered by it.

“Oh, that… Basically, your face shape, features, stature, body type, all of that stuff is pretty much exactly what I’ve been looking to add to my portfolio.” I could already feel that awkward warmth creeping up my neck and towards my cheeks.

“You think I’m perfect?” The smirk was audible in his voice, it wasn’t the cocky smile I was used to seeing from college boys, but instead was one of delight.

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate, and for a moment, I wish I had. His smirk fell instantly, and after his eyes darted over my face in search of something, he turned his head completely to look out the window, his slender fingers covering his mouth.

28… 29… 30… 31-

“Thanks.” He had sat still in that position before he spoke, shifting in his seat. At the same time, the waiter finally approached us. Wonwoo ordered first, and it looked as if his skin was paler than before, like his circulation suddenly dropped. I ordered my regular and the waiter left as swiftly as they’d came. He sighed as they walked away, as if he’d been holding his breath.

“So, what would I need to do?” Wonwoo asked with a hint of meekness.

“I just need you to do simple poses and let me take pictures of you. We can work together for what to have you wear and where would be best, I have some ideas already though.”

He put his arms on the table and held his hands together and fidgeted. I was truly at as loss for words with him, I know it’s impolite to stare, but it’s as if his aura was drawing me in like a magnet. He bit his cheek in thought, then took a deep breath before speaking.

“I'm not sure, I’m really busy with essays for the next few weeks.” He was hinting at something, and I picked up on it instantly.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be doing it for free, by the way. I’m not sure how long it would take so I can pay you by the hour,” His face lit up again, and his eyes caught mine. How could someone with such a chilly reputation seem so warmhearted? “Does 15 dollars an hour sound okay?”

“If you can take at least 5 hours, sure.”

After that, talking became easier and we even laughed at silly jokes as we ate, taking the time to get to know each other. It was easy to let my guard down with him, and I hoped it was the same for him. Everything I overheard people whisper about him behind his back was wrong, I knew that for sure.

“I really don’t know though, I feel like if you go to a fancy masquerade wearing a wolf mask, going around asking strange question about peoples agendas, you have to accept that everyone is going to think you’re the murderer!” Our plates had been taken back to the kitchen, we’ve gotten 3 drink refills, and we’re now both picking at a shared slice of no-bake chocolate cake while figuring own what mask each of our professors would wear to a Clue-esk masquerade.

“Maybe that was the point? Maybe someone else used that expectation against him and would frame him! Do you know how scary crows can be when they’re upset? I think it would be her.” Wonwoo seemed in his element when in a debate, even one as silly as this. I shook my head and chuckled, taking a bite of the cake with a happy hum as he finished off this ice water. We’d spend the entire evening chapping about things we both liked, and we bonded over Shakespeare. Truthfully though, I could only talk about what I had to read in high-school English.

“Excuse me? It’s getting late. We have to close soon.” A waitress I didn’t recognize came up and got our attention. We both seemed surprised, looking outside to find the sky was completely dark, the orange glow of the streetlights lining the winding sidewalks of the campus.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time,” Wonwoo stood up just enough to grab his wallet from his back pocket, “I’ll take the check, now.” The waiter nodded and handed it to him, clearly tired from her shift. The diner was empty save for the few members of staff and the two of u. It kind of scared me how easily I’d gotten lost in conversation.

“Let me pay for half, okay?” I fumbled with my bag trying to find my wallet.

“No, I’ve got it, if you can cover the tip though, that’d be great.” He was already standing and making his way to the front where he’d pay. He paused for a moment though, sliding the check towards me with a kind smile before he left. His appearance paired with the amazing diner we’d shared made my mind go blank. Butterflies to spawned in my tummy and they dared to fly up my throat, making it tighten as if I could cry.

I took a deep breath and stood, placing a little more cash than was necessary on the table and went to catch up with Wonwoo. I stood to the side as he paid, thanking the waitress when they were finished.

“Thank you for spending time with me tonight.” I said shyly, hugging my arms close to myself to stave off the cold.

“You’re welcome. I’ll text you the date and time that I’ll be free. I trust your judgement, so just text me with what I should try to wear and were I should be.” It took me way too long to realize what he was talking about.

“Ahh right! Of course.” I hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“My dorm is this way, so I’ll see you later, okay?” He stopped abruptly at a crossroads, pointing into the opposite direction where my dorm was. I nodded and thanked him again before he began to jog off.

I stood there under the lights for a few moments, watching as his slender legs and clean dress shoes took him away and into the night.

My breath hitched in sudden realization.

“I just went on a date with Jeon Wonwoo.” I whispered to no one.

“Right there! Don’t move a muscle.” It was a week later that I got to see him again. It was the weekend, and I’d decided on going to a park nearby. We stood at a small bridge that crossed a small stream that would eventually reach the river where families were fishing and having a barbecue. The weather was perfect, with bright fluffy clouds, warm sunshine, and a soft breeze.

Somehow Wonwoo wore almost exactly what I’d envisioned: a lightweight shirt over a white t-shirt, light wash jeans and sneakers. A perfect day and a perfect boy made for a perfect picture.

“Can you look up a little bit more? Think something wistful.” He was great at following instructions, and whatever wistful thing he was thinking made the sweetest smile spread over his cheeks. I knelt at the end of the bridge and took a few pictures of his profile as he gazed at the sky.

“Now look at me.” It was as if he looked through the camera lens and directly into my soul. It nearly took my breath away how naturally be could put on the boyfriend act. Luckily, my camera was my shield, and I was able to get the shot without fumbling like a starstruck schoolgirl. Mostly.

“Alright, I think that’s good.” We’d been at it for hours, wandering around the park looking for the best places. We’d been at the river where the trees gave enough shade to emphasize his features. We’d been to the swing set where he played up the careful style that I didn’t know he had. We’ve been to the rock garden where I learned he knew a surprising amount about geology.

“You think this’ll be enough?” He came around to look at the pictures with me, putting his arm around my shoulders, the sudden contact made me jump, nearing dropping my camera. I turned to look at him only to find me wasn’t looking at the pictures at all.

“Uh... Yeah I think so.”

“I’ve always admired you, you know?” My mouth hung open in shock. Surely, I’d have remembered if we shared classes together or knew each other before this. fear bloomed in my chest. Had we known each other before??!?

“Sometimes during lunch, you’ll take pictures of the flowers or of birds, and you have a sense of focus that I don’t usually see in girls our age.” He clarified, waving off my worried thoughts with his free hand. Yet again he surprises me.

“And I always notice when you stare.” He added as one final blow to my heart, a killing whisper. My breath caught in my lungs and I looked away from him, only to feel his throaty laugh against my ear and neck.

“I- thank you? and also I’m sorry?” I didn’t know what to say or how to react. He let go of my shoulders and took a step away, moving in front of me.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m flattered.” His smile was otherworldly. When I didn’t respond further, however, that beautiful smile began to fall.

“I’m sorry, was that unwarranted?” He asked, gesturing to my shoulder. I still couldn’t say anything, as much as I wanted to. I could still feel pressure where his fingers pressed onto my skin, and how his breath against my neck gave me shivers.

“I just thought that after our date that you were interested and so I-”

“What?” I blurted out, surprising even myself. His eyes went wide, and he stumbled back as if my words had hit him physically.

“Was that wrong? I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed!” He bowed his head slightly in what I assumed was an apology. Before I could correct him, he began to leave.

“I’ll text you with my PayPal info, okay? See you around.” He really was the flight in fight or flight when it came to social situations.

I sent a length voice memo after I got home, explaining that I wasn’t upset and that I thought I had begun to have feelings for him, or at least that I liked him and his company. He never replied. In fact, I barely ever saw him again. It was only a little over a month until graduation, so I assumed he was busy. At least I hoped so, that way I didn’t depress myself with the idea that he was purposefully ignoring me, despite the signs.

Perhaps it was because his image was the shining star of my portfolio, but I never could forget about Jeon Wonwoo.

“Alright, thank you for introducing yourself, you can go ahead and have a seat at your desk.” My supervisor says kindly, gesturing to the only un-decorated desk in the room. The older woman next to me smiled and shook my hand, and the meeting went on in what I assumed was business as usual.

Everything was clean and new and mine. My own desk in an actual company building for an actual newspaper. I tried to focus on what was being said, but I was too giddy to even sit still.

“Excuse me, are you busy?” A heavy voice spoke up from behind me after the supervisor left the room. My throat tightened as if I could cry.

“No, can I help you with something?” I said as I pretended I was fine.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. Jeon Wonwoo, I’m a columnist.” He smiled at me smugly, extending his hand for me to shake. I did so and he winked at me. Instantly, the entire world fell apart until it was just us.

I couldn’t help but stare. A boy with eyes that piercing and teeth that shiny was hard to come by, and he was just who I wanted.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen #svt #svt wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo au #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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winryofresembool · 4 years ago

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 24

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Halloween chapter, part 2.

A/N: Yay, an update! I think some of you are gonna be happy about the characters that are being introduced in this chapter... Also lots of Caleo dorkiness (and canon references) in it! And you'll get to see if you were right with your costume guesses :D

Also like I already mentioned last week, this is the last chapter that I have written so far (when I started posting this fic I tried to make sure I'd have at least 7 chapters ready so I wouldn't have to stress about deadlines... and here we are now) so it is possible that updates may slow down a bit, at least if the chapter wants to become long. But I am still /trying/ to keep up with the regular updates the best I can :) So worry not!

Now, enjoy and let me know what you think!! Ps. somehow we’ve managed to pass 50k words already :O

Words: 4040

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

“Hi, you guys!” Piper, who was dressed as Wonder Woman, greeted Leo and Calypso first when they arrived, gesturing for them to come in.

“Hello! I was afraid Argo II had decided to stop working because you guys are late,” Jason the Superman noted as he offered to take Calypso’s coat and put it in a hanger by the door.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jason, that possibility did cross my mind as well,” Calypso said, casting Leo a meaningful look. “But no, not this time.”

“We’re only 10 minutes late!” Leo protested, checking the time from his phone. “I was busy finishing something… and Calypso took her time preparing herself as well. She probably did her wig for like two hours.” He gave her a not so serious side-eye.

“I did not!” Calypso said defensively. “Yeah, I straightened and combed and braided it but that took me maybe 15-20 minutes so he is highly exaggerating.”

“Don’t worry, Calypso, we know he does that a lot.” Piper smiled at her reassuringly. “Speaking of your wig, though, you look very cute! That hair reminds me of the style you had before my makeover. You’re dressed as the mythology Calypso, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Calypso said, pleased that Piper had figured that out so fast. “I thought it would be fun to be a bit self ironic for once. I haven’t really had a good reason to sew recently so this was a nice excuse to do that as well.” She made a small twirl to show the dress better.

“That dress really looks great!” Piper told her. “I would gladly commission you to sew me clothes; it’s so hard to find anything nice from the clothes stores these days. But Leo.” She turned back to him. “I see someone hasn’t bothered to get a costume. I wasn’t expecting that from you because you’re always so excited about them.”

“No, you got it all wrong.” Leo wagged his finger at her. “I do have it here, but as I told Cal, it would have been too difficult to wear in the car.” He dropped his bag on the floor, causing a loud thud as it hit the ground.

“Alright. Care to give us any hint what it is?” Piper asked curiously. “Seems heavy.” Calypso wondered if this was something they did every year.

“I’m just saying that it’s inspired by some movies that united us three,” Leo noted mysteriously. “But that’s all, you’ll see soon!”

“My mind is blank now,” Piper said. “Jason, what movies have we watched with him?”

“The first one that comes to my mind is Star Wars,” Jason reminded her. Suddenly both Jason and Piper’s eyes widened in realization. “Could it be?”

“Oh no, Leo you didn’t!” Piper doubled over in laughter when it occurred to her what Leo’s costume most likely was. “I can’t wait to see this!”

“I hope you took pictures with Festus!” Jason couldn’t keep his poker face either, and Calypso watched their reactions with confusion.

“Don’t worry, I will show them later.” Leo grinned, unperplexed by Jason and Piper’s laughter. “Now, where can I change?”

Piper showed him an empty room where he could get into his costume in peace, while Calypso started looking around the house on her own. Even though the place seemed rather fancy, Jason and Piper had managed to make it cozier with their personal objects. A lot of them had seen life and were worn but somehow they still fit in with the newer decorations.

As Calypso reached the living room, her focus went to the guests who had already arrived at the party. She waved at Annabeth and nodded awkwardly to Percy. Even though she and Annabeth were friends again, she wasn’t quite sure how she should act near Percy so ‘reserved’ felt the most natural reaction. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, though, when she registered their costumes: Annabeth had a Chiton just like her, although grey instead of white, with some silvery accessories and a beautiful owl shaped brooch over her chest. Perhaps the most impressive part of her costume was the Greek styled helmet that was used in battles and that hid most of Annabeth’s curly ponytail. Calypso was quite certain she was dressed as Athena, the Greek goddess that according to her was the one she identified herself the most with. Percy on the other hand was wearing sandals, shorts, a tropical shirt, and a belt with fishing equipment and he was holding a fishing rod in his hand. Calypso couldn’t quite figure out who he was supposed to be, other than some sort of fisherman.

“Hi,” Calypso greeted them as she got to hearing distance with them. “You guys look nice. You’re Athena, right?” She asked Annabeth. “Matches my theme, don’t you think?”

“Sure does,” Annabeth nodded, eyeing Calypso’s costume. “You look pretty much exactly like how I imagine the mythology Calypso.”

“Thank you. Coming from you it’s a big compliment.” She turned Percy. “I can’t figure out who you are, though. You don’t seem like a Greek god?”

“I am, though,” Percy replied. “I’m Poseidon.”

“Ooh, so that’s why the fishing gear!” Calypso realized. “But I don’t think the Greeks had tropical shirts quite yet.”

“No, you’re right in that.” Percy shook his head, smiling a bit. “But I’m basing this on the version in the Peter Johnson series. That’s how he was described in it.”

“I didn’t know you have read that too,” Calypso said, “But makes sense. Um, the Poseidon and Athena of the mythology hated each other, though. Not that it’s really my business, but I hope you two are doing fine…?” She asked a bit nervously, not wanting to be the reason for their issues.

“Oh yeah, we are,” Percy confirmed immediately. “It’s just an old joke – back when Annabeth and I were reading the Peter Johnson books I used to say Poseidon is my godly parent and Athena Annabeth’s, and that just kind of stuck with us.”

“Alright.” Calypso accepted Percy’s answer, turning her attention back to Annabeth. “By the way, where did you get that helmet? It definitely looks fancier than most of the plastic ones you see at costume shops.”

“My father collects these things,” Annabeth answered, lifting the helmet from her head for a moment. “I’ve told you he’s also a historian, right? Well, one of his friends wanted to make a replica of the ancient Greek helmets with some modern machines and dad bought this from him. I’m not saying this is 100 per cent accurate but it looks pretty cool, in my opinion.”

“It does,” Calypso confirmed.

“You came with Leo, right?” Percy asked then, to which Calypso nodded. “Where is he? I can’t wait to see his costume; he usually goes for something that is way over the top. Last year he was Hiccup from How to Train your Dragon and he had made a Toothless costume for his dog. I’ve also seen pics of him as Iron Man. Yes, with a full iron costume.”

“I can believe that of him,” Calypso chuckled, imagining Leo in the said costume. “He just went to change into his costume because apparently he couldn’t drive in it. He didn’t reveal what he was going to be, but it does sound like something extravagant.”

“I missed his costume last year but I’ll be sure to have a camera ready when he shows up this time,” Annabeth said happily. Calypso was relieved that the conversation was going this well; she hadn’t known what to expect beforehand because this was the first time she was in the same room with Percy since the ‘incident’. Talking with him now, though, made her realize that holding a grudge wouldn’t be smart and he seemed to think the same way.

“I just realized,” Calypso decided to change the topic, “that I’ve never heard the story of how you guys know Jason and Piper. So how did that happen?”

“It’s a funny story,” Percy started, smiling at the memory. “Jason and I used to be the captains of rivaling soccer teams when we were around 16. Well, one time Jason’s team was visiting us but we were playing in an arena that had just been renovated so I hadn’t been there before. I may have been a bit late from our team meeting and I was a bit lost so I decided to ask one staff lady where I was supposed to go. Somehow she got our teams mixed up and I ended up in the locker room of Jason’s team. Some of Jason’s teammates said that my expression was worth seeing when I realized the mistake but I dunno about that. The funny thing was that somehow the same thing had happened to Jason; he had also been late for the meeting because of traffic or something and he had gotten into my team’s locker room. Well, after the game we had a good laugh about it together and ended up talking about other stuff as well and noticed we have a lot in common. That’s how we became friends. When we moved into the same town, we started training together at least a few times a week.”

“Piper and I didn’t learn to know each other until Jason and she started dating a couple of years ago and they invited Percy to some party where I went with him. To be honest, I was a bit suspicious about her at first because we seemed very different but eventually we learned to respect each other’s qualities. And here we are,” Annabeth added.

“Those are some cool stories,” Calypso said. “It seems like a funny coincidence that somehow we all ended up in this city even though most of us are from somewhere else. Like Leo is from Texas, I am from Greece…” “Speaking of him,” Annabeth had to muffle his laughter with her hand, “I believe we are finally getting some answers about his costume.”

“Oh… my gods” was all Calypso could say when she turned to the direction Annabeth was looking at. “You’re really something else.”

Leo was completely hidden inside his costume, but Calypso could practically hear him grinning at their reactions. The costume looked very much like in the movies; golden (just painted, not real gold, because there was no way Leo could afford something like that) plating forming a droid with big round eyes and an ability to speak lots and lots of different languages: C-3PO from Star Wars.

“Holy shit, dude, that looks so real.” Percy gaped at Leo. “I’m starting to understand why you spent so much time in your room the past few weeks.”

“Why C-3PO, though?” Calypso asked once she managed to put her poker face back on. “Does that have some story behind it?”

“Because, duh, it looks cool!” Leo exclaimed with a mechanical voice from inside his costume. “I dunno, ever since I first saw C-3PO as a kid I thought it would be cool to be able to build something like that. And hey, his ability to translate like all the possible languages is pretty neat. Me? I just know 3.”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable in there, though?” Calypso asked. “That thing must be heavy.”

“Sunshine, I’m always uncomfortable. But this was a childhood dream of mine so I sure as heck am not backing off now,” Leo said with determination.

“A stubborn one, aren’t you?” Calypso stated. “Even I have to admit, though, that you have certainly done some thorough job with it. Hey, I should take photos before I forget! You don’t get to see this every day.”

The others dug their phones up as well and for a while Leo just made silly poses while they took pictures, clearly enjoying the attention his costume got. Eventually he started demanding that Calypso should join him for the photos but she was a bit hesitant at first.

Leo argued: “Come on. Greek mythology meets Star Wars? You don’t see a crossover like that every day.”

“Can’t argue with that, I suppose,” Calypso said and went next to him. “Well, do we have some kind of story for Calypso and C-3PO’s meeting?” she asked as Percy and Annabeth waved at them to look at the camera.

Leo considered her question for a moment. “Oh, how about this? C-3PO somehow ends up on Calypso’s island - because duh, Calypso is cursed so she can’t leave the island…”

“You seem to know surprisingly much about Greek mythology, just saying…” Calypso noted while trying to smile for the photos, resting her hand on the metallic shoulder.

“I told ya, Sunshine, you can blame tía Callida for that…” Leo reminded her. “Anyway, I imagine those two don’t really like each other at first because they’re so different but eventually they learn to respect each other’s skills; C-3PO can translate basically any language and Calypso is good at all kinds of handiworks, which is hard for a droid.”

“And? What happens after that?” Calypso asked curiously.

Leo considered it for a moment. “C-3PO doesn’t really wanna leave Calypso’s island but he has galaxies to save with his friend R2-D2 so he has to go but he promises to come get her afterwards.”

“Aw, Leo, that is kind of sweet,” Calypso commented, suddenly aware of the metal arm that had snuck around her waist. “Does he… does he ever return, though? Shouldn’t that be impossible?”

“For a human, maybe, but he’s a droid,” Leo noted. “Unfortunately during a big battle he blows up badly but the ever so faithful R2-D2 collects the pieces and finds someone who can rebuild him again. And boom, he makes it back and lives happily ever after with his goddess.”

“What’s the term you use when you enjoy a fictional relationship a lot?” Calypso asked. “Shipping?” Annabeth nodded at her. “I don’t know, Leo, to me it sounds like you ship those two. Isn’t that a bit weird?” “What, why would that be weird? I’ve seen people ship…”

“I see these two have gotten into a full on nerd mode again,” Annabeth said quietly to Percy while they were waiting for the flatmates to stop their bickering so they’d be able to take the photos. “Not projecting themselves into their characters, right?”

“No, definitely not,” Percy agreed.

Eventually Leo and Calypso stopped bickering and Annabeth was able to take the pictures. Even if Leo was mostly hidden by his costume, Calypso felt a bit self conscious about the fact that these were the first photos of them together. They did a few goofy poses because Annabeth and Percy told them to, but Calypso thought she probably looked more embarrassed than funny in them.

Once they were done, Leo went to Annabeth who was going through the photos and bowed his head a bit to see them better. “Hey, these do look pretty cool! It’s probably just the lighting but here you look like you’re blushing to some funny comment C-3PO made.”

“Show me!” Calypso yelped nervously and took the phone from Annabeth. When she saw it, she could immediately tell Leo was not wrong; she really was blushing. “Yeah, it’s definitely those candles in the background that do it… And I think it’s pretty warm in here, maybe all the people here heat this room…”

“OK, if you say so,” Leo said but Calypso imagined that he was looking at her suspiciously through his costume.

Trying to get the others’ attention to something else, she said: “So, who else has arrived so far?”

“Nico and Will. I think they went to get some snacks from the dining room,” Piper, who had just entered the room, answered.

“Leo told me that Nico is Jason’s relative, but what about Will?” Calypso asked her.

“Will is Nico’s boyfriend. This is the first time we’re meeting him but they seem very good together. At least he seems to have a grounding effect on Nico, and he actually listens to him, unlike most of us. Um, sorry, it’s a long story, one that I should probably save for another time. Nico may be a bit hard to approach sometimes but he is a very nice guy when you learn to know him. Just… been through a lot. I guess like many of us here. But he seems way happier now,” Piper said, and as if on cue, they could hear some distant laughter coming from the dining room.

“We should start a traumatized college kids’ club,” Leo attempted to joke, and the others hummed in agreement. Maybe she did belong to this group after all, Calypso thought. If only they knew, though…

“This just got cheerful,” Percy said, interrupting Calypso’s thought process. “Who’s up for blue candies? Get them before Will and Nico eat them all.”

“I heard that, Jackson!” Nico entered the room without a warning. “No offense to you or your mom but blue candies aren’t exactly my thing.”

“Hi, Nico,” Percy greeted him, seeming a bit flustered after Nico’s comment. “You haven’t met Calypso, right?” He pointed at her.

“No, I haven’t,” Nico took a quick look at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, in that case, this is Calypso Astal. And Calypso, this is Nico di Angelo,” Percy introduced them to each other.

“Nice to meet you,” Calypso approached him, but he seemed to evaluate her for a moment before he took her hand.

“Likewise,” Nico said finally. “I think Jason has mentioned you a few times.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Calypso said a bit unsurely, like every time she met a new person. The lonely years still had a toll on her, and even though she liked spending time with her friends, meeting new people was always a bit nerve wracking to her. “You’re his relative, right?”

“A distant cousin,” Nico answered. “Yeah, our fathers are related, but I have my mother’s last name and Jason has his.”

“I take it your mother has roots elsewhere, based on the last name?” Calypso asked.

“She was Italian,” Nico shrugged. “I lived there my first years too. But now I can barely remember those times.”

Calypso noticed the use of past tense, but she thought it was probably better to not ask about that in the middle of a party. “Oh. I’ve been to Italy a few times. I’m originally from Greece.”

“What brought you here, then?” Nico asked.

“Dad’s work,” Calypso responded in a tone that told everyone she wouldn’t elaborate on that topic more. It seemed to have become a habit to her.

“Anyway,” Leo, who had managed to stay quiet for a surprisingly long amount of time in Calypso’s opinion, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Nico, a little bird told me,” he looked at Jason, “that your boyfriend is a Star Wars geek. Is that true?”

Nico took one look at Leo’s costume and his mouth twitched when he realized why Leo was asking. “He is, but don’t let him get started on it, or else he will never stop. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend, I prefer calling him…”

“A significant nuisance?” Will showed up from the dining room, carrying a plate full of food. “Don’t mind him, he just warms up a bit slow.”

“Yes, this is Will,” Nico sighed, addressing those who hadn’t met them before. “Sometimes he’s a nuisance, sometimes he can be quite OK. When he’s having a good day.”

“Same back at you, dear,” Will laughed. “Did I hear someone mention Star Wars, though?”

“You did,” Leo said, stepping forward so Will could see his costume better. Needless to say, Will looked beyond thrilled.

“Oh boy, here we go again,” Nico said quietly before Will even had time to comment on the costume.

“Woah, that must be the best C-3PO costume I’ve seen. And yeah, I’ve seen a few so I don’t compliment you for nothing,” Will assured.

“Thanks, man, I did spend quite a while with it,” Leo said, high fiving Will. “Glad someone here appreciates good things.”

“I still hope you’re not one of those fans who have only seen the most recent movies and not the originals,” Will noted.

“Heck, no!” Leo exclaimed immediately. “The original three for the win! Mom and I used to watch them a lot… um, when I was little. She was a big fan. But the newer ones just don’t feel the same.” Calypso had a feeling Leo had almost said something else, but he had changed his phrasing at the last moment.

“You have a pretty good taste,” Will said approvingly. Then he finally realized he hadn’t even asked Leo and Calypso’s names before getting into the geek mode.

“So, who are you two? I already met Percy and Annabeth earlier but I don’t think I know you guys yet.”

“I’m Leo Valdez, and this is my, um, flatmate, Calypso Astal,” Leo introduced. Calypso hoped there was a better word to describe their relationship than a ‘flatmate’ but at the moment it was probably the best and the safest option there was.

“Flatmates, huh?” Will repeated. “How did that happen?”

“I was in a hurry to find a roof over my head so I put in the application that I also accept mixed flats,” Calypso replied. “I didn’t meet Leo beforehand because, um, that would have been a bit difficult to arrange in this case, but it worked out OK.” Calypso noticed Leo was looking at her from the corner of his eye, and she realized she had never even talked about that option before. The truth was that she had had to plan her leaving very thoroughly so her father wouldn’t notice and she had driven to Indianapolis as fast as possible, with no time for second guessing.

“And my flat happened to have a room free because our boy Jason decided to move in with Beauty Queen,” Leo added to that story. “It’s really no stranger than that.”

“Oh, right, someone must have mentioned that you and Jason used to be flatmates,” Will recalled. “I just didn’t connect the dots.”

Jason had apparently finished welcoming the rest of the guests because he joined the group in the living room. “That reminds me, I don’t think I’ve asked you, Calypso, if Leo still leaves his dishes undone and if he has empty milk cartons in the fridge.”

“He used to do that?” Calypso asked with amusement. “After seeing his room that’s not so hard to picture, but no, he’s been pretty tidy in the common area. Although one time he bribed me to do his dishes for him in exchange for some of his food.”

“It was a good deal!” Leo protested. “You didn’t have to cook and you also got to taste some Valdez’ sizzling hot quesadillas so I’d say it was a win-win. Besides, you didn’t seem to have anything against that.”

“Alright, I will admit the quesadillas were pretty good,” Calypso conceded. “But a true gentleman offers them without even asking. Well, other than that he’s been OK,” she told Jason with a playful twinkle in her eye.

“I guess he really is able to change his habits, then,” he replied. “At least when the flatmate is someone he...”

Before Jason had time to finish his sentence, Leo intervened: “Folks, do we really have to be talking about my cleaning habits in front of people I don’t know? The first impressions are important, especially when it comes to Supersized McShizzle!”

“We’re just being honest, Repair Boy.” Calypso couldn’t resist booping his metal covered nose. Apparently she just didn’t know how to not cross the line with this boy, she sighed in her mind.

“Is that all? Where’s the feisty Sunshine I know?,” Leo said in a low tone, so the others could barely hear his comment, coming out almost flirty.

“Shut up,” Calypso answered equally quietly but held her gaze at him.

“Ahem,” they suddenly heard Piper’s voice behind them. “In case you’ve stopped with the flirting, I’d like you to meet a couple of people.”

Calypso turned to see the newcomers and as she recognized the Hunter badges both of them had attached to their shirts, something in her mind just suddenly turned off.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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fromashescomephoenixes · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Not a Double Date

warnings: none!

summary: Hermione agrees to go to lunch with Harry, Ginny and Draco. But it’s definitely not a double date! (Or is it?)

word count: 1.1k+

••••

“Please!” Ginny was begging me desperately. “I can’t handle it with just Harry,”

“Ginny, the whole reason you guys are doing this lunch is because you’re all friends now!”

“Yeah, but that’s mostly him and Harry,” She whined. “And he’s single again,” she tried a different tact.

“You think Malfoy and I would be good together?” I laughed, shaking my head. Ginny simply shrugged. I started to walk back towards my office, but she turned me around.

“Please Hermione,” she asked once more, “If you really hate it I can fake being sick,” she suggested. Finally, I conceded.

“I guess,” Ginny instantly cheered up.

“Thank you!” She exclaimed. And started to leave, waving over her shoulder. “Also Malfoy may think it’s a double date,” Ginny jogged out the doors of the ministry as my jaw dropped.

“Ginny! What!” I sighed. Looks like I’d be going on a date with Malfoy.

••••

“Hello?” I finally answered my phone, which had been ringing for the past ten minutes.

“Hermione!” Harry greeted me.

“Harry! I said cheerfully. “How are you?” I was very glad to hear from my best friend.

“Really great,” Harry responded. “I wanted to thank you, ‘Mione, for agreeing to go with Malfoy to lunch.”

“As Long as the ferret is polite, I don’t really see an issue with it,” I admitted. “Although I’m not going to let him think it’s a date,” I said, mostly to assure myself I think.

“Well, to be honest,” Harry paused. “He sounded kind of excited,” It would not be an exaggeration to say I nearly fell over from laughing.

“Sure, and Rita Skeeter is the most reliable writer in the Daily Prophet!” I chuckled to myself and Harry allowed himself a laugh as well.

“Truly Hermione,” Harry began. A commotion cut into the background of our call, likely some sort of Auror’s training or other.

“Listen ‘Mione, I have to go. See you tomorrow!” The statement was all but shouted before the phone clicked off.

••••

The question of ‘what to wear?’ was not something that often preoccupied my thoughts. However, it was all I could think of as I went to sleep that night.

Perhaps my deep red blazer and- No, too business-y. Or nice jeans and a jumper? A little too casual, since Harry had picked a relatively upscale restaurant so that they could avoid the Paparazzi.

As the sun began to shine in, I stared at my clock until it turned to Six. That was an alright time to get up I thought. I’d slept a bit, but not enough. The nightmares never got any better. I always wonder how Harry manages. He says Ginny helps, but unfortunately I don’t exactly have the love of my life waiting for me around the corner. Unless of course I bump into the perfect man at the lunch spot Harry chose which is thankfully very close by. I snort as I imagine the unlikely odds.

Finally, I still on a royal blue sweater over a shirt with a Peter Pan collar. I’ve heard that’s trendy, although really it’s just my regular style. I don’t bother with make up, and choose to spend the spare time reading instead.

••••

Harry and Ginny pick me up outside of my apartment. I quickly grab my keys and sunglasses as we dash out the door.

“So,” I begin “How civil do I have to be to Malfoy?” I tease.

“Hermione, I solemnly swear he’s changed,” Harry said gravely. I simply shrugged.

“Yeah, but how much can a person truly change?” I sigh, deep in thought. Either he wasn’t that changed, or we were about to meet a completely new person.

“Granger?” I heard his voice before I saw him. His blond hair was parted loosely and he wore simple jeans and a white shirt.

“Malfoy.” I nodded primly. He smiled, but I looked away. Harry and Ginny both greeted him with a hug, but while he was turned away I made sure to mouth:

“Are you serious!?” Towards Ginny. All she could do was shrug. We walked into the restaurant and I noticed an odd stare here and there. Luckily there were no cameras. Harry and Ginny walked slightly ahead of me and Malfoy. I suppose Malfoy took this as an invitation for conversation.

“So..” He trailed off. “I never believed we would be going on a date!” I frowned at his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s not a date Malfoy,” I replied.

“Oh?” His eyebrow raised up, “What is it then?”

“We’re simply third and fourth wheeling,” I managed a small smile, but Draco started full on laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked with a smile.

“Well. I simply told him we’re not on a date.” I didn’t really see how he found it THAT funny.

••••

“So Draco,” Harry began. He was ready to start a new topic as the four of us had been laughing at one of his less graceful plays in quidditch. “How was your trip to America?”

“Oh!” I surprised even myself in saying this. However, I’d always wanted to visit America.

“It was fantastic,” He began. He sped into a long story of everything that happened. I found myself hanging on to every word. Godric, his eyes were really nice. No, that wasn’t what I should be thinking! Ugh.

“How’s work at the ministry Hermione?” He turned towards me. I bit my lips for a moment. Willing myself to keep being cold towards him.

“Perfectly fine, thank you,” I nodded.

“What do you think of those new laws theyre possibly putting in place over in Germany?” He asked. How did he hear about those? I’d only found out after hearing from the minister himself. Unable to stop myself, I launched into a passionate explanation of my thoughts.

“I think it’s fantastic that they’re thinking of reintegrating Wizards and muggles together!” I continued on this path, and then frowned and added. “Although it should be a global decision. Germany can’t very well tell people there are wizards without muggle finding out about the rest of us!”

“I completely agree Hermione!” Draco threw a smile my way. “Plus, it has to be taken fairly slowly. It will be a large shock for everyone,” Oh Godric, he traveled? He was as handsome as ever? He had completely changed his view on muggles? There was something strangely attractive about this ‘new’ Draco. However his unmistakable personality was still very much at his core.

After a few more interesting topics of conversation, we finished lunch and got the bill. I had had a surprisingly lovely afternoon.

“We should do this again sometime!” Harry suggested, staring at me. Perhaps I hadn’t been as secretive as I thought about my change in sentiment towards Draco.

“ I would love that,” Draco said, also glancing at me.

“I suppose,” I glanced at my shoes, eager to escape the gaze of everyone. As we parted ways, I noticed Draco fall in to step beside me.

“So, I know that wasn’t a date,” He began a little sheepishly. “But would you maybe want to grab ice cream together?” I blushed as I found myself smiling at the thought.

“I suppose,” I smiled softly.

“Now that, is the best thing I’ve heard all day!” He shyly brushed my hand and we continued to walk to my favourite ice cream shop ever.

••••

“Daddy, Daddy!” A small Scorpius waddled over to Draco. “What was your and mommy’s first date?”

“Well, I can tell you that it wasn’t anything so basic as a double date,” Draco smiled at his son, before throwing a smirk towards Hermione. She tossed the dish rag she was holding towards him, but he dodged it expertly.

They had been married very happily for 5 years, and were certainly a well loved couple. They kept up the tradition of double dates with Harry and Ginny, although Draco enjoyed telling Hermione that it wasn’t a date.

“We’re simply third and fourth wheeling!” He would smile, as he gently held his wife’s hand.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #draco fluff #dramione #dramione fluff #dramione fanfic #harry potter #harry potter writing #harry potter fanfiction #Harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter fluff #dramione romance #hermione granger #hermione malfoy #hp #hp fluff #hp fanfic

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years ago

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 22

“You come…here again?”

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” the Sergeant says slowly, putting great care into his enunciation, “but it’s important.”

“Im…por…tant?”

“Yes. We have –“

“This…many more,” the copepod says, waggling three massive fingers at him. The Sergeant is silent for a moment.

“I don’t understand,” he says finally.

“You kill…this many…more,” the copepod grunts. I can hear it breathing, vast wheezing noises like the space in between notes on a bagpipe. “This many more…since you said…you would leave.”

The Sergeant sighs. “They attacked us outside of the barrows. The ones they attacked had no choice but to defend themselves.”

“This…the…end, four-arms?”

I frown, glance over at Elena. “Four-arms?” I mutter. She leans in closer to me.

“Their word for us. They haven’t got any legs so they don’t really grasp the distinction between a leg and an arm.”

I nod, staring down at the screen on my camera. The copepod looks far too glossy but with the gloves on the suit I don’t really have the dexterity to fiddle with it and I don’t want to take them off presently, so it’ll just have to be glossy. I look over at the two copepods that had come in earlier, still lurking behind the Big Guy like statues, clinging to the wall in positions that look as though they could push off and dart at us with absolutely minimal effort.

The rest of the team seems very relaxed, though; nobody, not even Crookshank, has their rifles up to cover the copepods. “Do y’all come down here often?” I ask.

Elena shakes her head. “I’ve only been down here once before, and that was about a year ago.” Her eyes flick over to Peter. “Investigating a missing person.”

I think of several possible responses to that but bite them all back. None of them would be helpful, and at any rate my impulse to defend Peter has withered a little over the last few days. Probably just the hormones talking. Maybe if I didn’t get such a big damn case of the warm fuzzies whenever I so much as look at Elena –

“The end of what?” the Sergeant asks. The copepod gestures, a vague, open-handed, sweeping motion. It’s a terrifically human gesture and for a moment I stare, wondering, then its segmented mouthparts judder to life again and that horrible, inhuman voice issues forth from them again and some poor pattern-recognizing part of my brain gets whiplash from the disjointedness of it.

“How we…end. Many…spawnings since we…meet, four-arms, and now…there is not…enough…to eat. If we…leave…to hunt, you…kill us.”

The Sergeant starts to say something, but the copepod slams a fist into the ground. Next to me I feel Elena flinch, and on the far wall of the chamber one of the other copepods cocks its head.

“We are hungry,” it tells the Sergeant, and something about the way it says those three simple words strikes me like a lightning bolt, passing all the way through my stomach and out my tailbone. My hands are shaking lightly and part of me wants to panic, wants to be out of here right now, but I close my eyes and swallow hard and force myself to be calm.

The Sergeant, to his credit, doesn’t even blink. “We’re here to talk about that.”

The copepod is silent. It reaches up with its hand and rubs at its face lightly, in a motion that reminds me of a fly cleaning its compound eyes. “Don’t…believe you,” it wheezes eventually.

“We are. We’re planning to start bringing food down for – for your people. But we need something in return.”

I glance over at the crystal again. It’s a good thing we brought Joker; I don’t know how we would have gotten it out of here if he weren’t here to carry it.

The copepod rolls its head back and makes a strange, scratchy, rhythmic noise, that I recognize after a moment as laughter.

“You make…us starve, then…come with…solution…to problem…you made? And…you want…trade…for it?”

I hear the Sergeant sigh, watch him look up at the ceiling. I’m impressed at how well he’s doing so far, especially considering (unless I have egregiously misread him) that he’s a soldier, not a diplomat. But now the copepod has handed him a real zinger.

“We never meant to hurt you,” he says. The copepod shifts lightly, the spongy floor creaking under its ponderous bulk. “There has been a long and bloody history between us and I wish it weren’t that way. I wish that things had been different, so many years ago when the first one of us had met the first one of you. I wish we had known to leave you alone and not interfere with your way of life. But the past can’t be changed, all we can do is try to right what wrongs we can.”

“What…you want?”

The Sergeant points to the crystal. “That,” he says. The copepod looks over at it and then reaches out and drags it, one handed, using what seems to be practically no effort, out from behind the pile.

“Not…for trade.”

“Not even for regular supplies of food?”

“Not…for anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

The copepod stops and looks at us. Its eyes seem to fix on something.

“Give me…that,” it says, pointing, and we all turn and stare at Crookshank, who the Sergeant had given his rifle to and who is now carrying both of them, somewhat awkwardly, beneath his armpits. He looks perturbed for a moment before he realizes and unlimbers one of them and sets the stock of it into the floor. I can see the muscles in the great knotty bulge of the Sergeant’s jaw working before he turns back around.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

“Too…bad.”

The Sergeant very clearly doesn’t know what to say, and then after a moment throws in the towel. “Alright,” he says. “Give me a minute, I have to ask.”

Then he turns around and takes a couple of respectful steps away before reaching down to his radio and calling Makado.

“They want what?” she groans, after he’s told her the news. The rest of us, listening in over the squad link, cast glances at each other but remain silent.

“One of the slug rifles,” he repeats. “I told him that we’d bring them regular shipments of food instead but he didn’t go for it.”

I hear Makado curse under her breath.

“You told them we’d bring them food? Goddam it,” she mutters. “You didn’t have any authority to –“

“Veret,” the Sergeant snaps, his voice barely edging on civil. “We don’t have time for this –“

“You expect me,” she hisses, her voice mingling with the static, “to give you the go-ahead to give them a fucking slug rifle? Why don’t we also turn off the sonic traps and leave the seal unlocked on the way out?”

“What do you want me to do, then?”

The copepod is watching this one-sided conversation with interest. The Sergeant’s voice is low and sharp but I’m sure the copepod can still hear some of what he’s saying. Its vocabulary seems fairly good but as for how much it understands…

“You said there’s only three of them in there right now, right?” Makado asks. I see the Sergeant shake his head.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “No way.”

“Sergeant,” Makado starts. I can hear a note of steel buried somewhere deep in her voice. “We need that crystal.”

“I’m going to give him the damn gun,” he tells her. Somewhere miles above us Makado slams her hand on her desk.

“Do not –“

“I am not,” the Sergeant says, very quietly, “letting any more of my people die down here today. There are three copepods in here, and fifty within two hundred yards, and a hundred within a mile, and they all are going to come running the instant we fire one of these guns.”

Makado is silent for a moment. “Fine,” she says. Her voice is hard enough to cut glass. “One rifle, no mags.”

“Fine.”

The channel cuts out with a resounding click. Elena and I trade glances; I can tell from her face that she’s never heard Makado that angry before.

The Sergeant reaches out for Crookshank’s rifle wordlessly and Crookshank hurries forward and hands it to him. The copepods on the walls draw in a little closer. I can see them practically twitching with anticipation, waiting for one of us to make the wrong move. The Sergeant turns, the slug rifle held in one hand, the barrel toward the ceiling. The copepod reaches out for it and the Sergeant places it gently in the thing’s hand.

Next to me I feel Elena shift her grip on her own rifle. The copepod looks down at the rifle in its hand for a long while.

“You should have taken the food,” the Sergeant tells it. The copepod in turn makes a snorting, chuffing noise. Then it closes its fist over the gun and with a sound like a groan of relief it bends and breaks. The bolt pops out and whizzes off somewhere in the darkness and the slugs pour from the ruined breach of the rifle like marbles, five of them clunking dully to the fleshy floor and rolling someplace out of sight. It tosses the bent frame of the rifle aside, and it clatters into the pile of junk and detritus and causes a small avalanche. The Sergeant steps back, eyes wary.

Then the copepod reaches over and shoves the crystal towards him. Its sharp spikes stick in the floor a little and leave bloody gouges in their wake. Whatever is inside it casting that green glow shifts lightly, with a kind of exaggerated slowness to it like it were floating in oil, and I glance down at the camera, make sure it’s in focus.

“Take…it,” the Big Guy tells us, and I can see by the look on the Sergeant’s face that he has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but instead of asking them he turns and gestures to Euler and after a little bit of prodding Euler manages to walk Joker forwards and find a decent place to grasp the crystal firmly, and then it picks it up.

One of the robot’s joints groans under the strain and Euler quickly prods at the joystick and it freezes, but after a few moments for he shrugs and continues twiddling, and Joker hefts the crystal like it were nothing and marches, a little unsteadily, back to us.

The copepod, meanwhile, has turned, rolling its enormous bulk delicately past us, and, with the assistance of one of the other copepods, which puts its arms on the Big Guy’s sides and is helping push, slithers out of the room. The audience, apparently, is over.

We all look around at each other but nobody feels any need to speak. There’s nothing to say. Crookshank is looking wistfully at the rifle on the ground, the barrel twisted like a piece of straw, but as we all begin to file out of the organelle and back into the snaking outer vent that got us there, Elena squeezes my hand firmly and I believe for a moment, just a moment, that everything might work out alright.

* * *

Elena twists around sharply and stares back into the darkness, her rifle low and ready. I peer backwards anxiously, then glance at her.

“What is it?”

She shakes her head, holds a hand up to me. “Shh,” she tells me.

Behind us the rest of the group marches onwards. There’s a distinct sense of relief in the air. Many of them, I realized belatedly, had expected that we were going to our deaths, that we were going to have to try to take the crystal by force. Ellis thought so for sure; his smile is unbearably bright and the Sergeant has had to tell him to shut up multiple times on the journey out, but his enthusiasm is so overflowing that he can’t shut up, he just keeps babbling on about whatever is in his head, what he’s going to do when he gets back to the surface, how nice it’ll be to have fresh air, so on and so on.

Elena is standing there quite still, her head cocked to one side. I listen but I can’t hear anything, and I start to tug at her sleeve, thinking that –

Wait.

I thought for a moment that I might have heard something, something very far away, but it was the sort of quiet, subtle noise that is hard to notice even in dead silence, and our current environment is very far from that. Everything down here seems to make noise; it’s a little like being in a forest in the middle of a windstorm. Instead of trees creaking and groaning and leaves scattering and wind rushing, you have the tramp tramp tramp of metal-plated feet, and the corresponding squelches of cleat sticking into the floor and the equally horrible meaty slurping sound with each step as they come unstuck. Then on top of that there’s groans and moans and straining noises. If you put your ear to someone’s stomach after they’ve just eaten you might get a sense of what it’s like, except fifty times louder and without anything in the way. The hallways shift around you, little wriggles of convulsive muscle movement going through them, and the noise is concurrent with the size and force of the muscles doing the moving. But there is a difference between the shrieking of a taut muscle and the shrieking of something in pain, far off in the distance, perhaps…

Elena leans in very sharply and reaches out with a balled fist and smacks the quick-release on the side of my helmet. The visor jets up and instantly the fetid smell of the Pit assaults me. My eyes start to water. “What the fuck,” I start to blurt, but Elena puts a gloved hand over my mouth. Her eyes are very clear and very bright; she’s already popped her own helmet so she can talk to me clearly.

“Listen to me, Roan,” she says, her eyes glancing over to the side and back the way we came before flicking over to me again. “If something happens down here, you stick to me like glue. Got it?”

I start to say something but she gives me a dangerous look and I swallow hard. “Got it,” I say.

“Okay, good,” she says. She flashes me a quick grin but I can tell she’s just giving me lip service, just from the way her eyes jump like roulette balls, scanning the surroundings even as she reaches over and flips my visor back into place. I had started to ask – well, I don’t know what I was going to ask. Probably something useless, some infantile plea for assurance that we were going to be okay. Clearly we aren’t if Elena is spooked like this. I look ahead of her at the rest of the team; they’re wary but not as wary as she is.

“Elena, what’s wrong?” I ask her, taking a hold of her arm, and she looks over at me and starts to answer, and then everything goes to hell.

Behind us I hear the sound I thought I had heard before, except much louder and clearer – a chittering shriek of either pain or rage, or perhaps some of both. Something about the tone makes me think it’s a copepod. The scream is cut off halfway through, and then we hear other screams, loud gurgling ululations, echoing through the vents. Everyone is yelling, everyone’s rifles are coming up very quickly, heads are whipping around and scattering the broad angry cones of headlamp light across the wet, glistening walls. The shrieks and cries are reaching a crescendo and it seems impossible that we can’t see any copepods at the present moment.

The side of the vent bulges inward suddenly and I see a long tapered mass move by, like a throat swallowing, and I realize that it must have been a copepod, sliding past as quickly as its resin-coated carapace will allow.

Elena has her hand under my arm and is tugging me along as quickly as we can go. I am deathly afraid I’m going to trip and fall and splatter face-first into the wet, bloody floor; I’m not digging in the cleats all the way, there isn’t time to with the way she’s rushing me. I want to reach down and pull out my sidearm but I don’t trust myself to keep ahold of it if I were to.

I can see a flickering glance of Euler’s face, bringing up the rear behind us, feverishly punching buttons on the controller and working the joystick. He looks frightened and I feel suddenly and incongruously bad for Euler, because he clearly has hated this place from the second he came down here, and it’s only his job that’s making him do it, and now he, and probably all of us, are going to die because of it.

I remember Makado very seriously considering us just opening up on the Big Guy, on the king of the copepods or whatever the hell the hierarchy is down here, just because he wanted a gun instead of just giving us the crystal. The wan green light is still pressing tightly against my back from where Joker has the damn thing clenched tight in his metal hands, and I feel my lip curling and realize that maybe Elena is right, maybe Makado is out of line, maybe she’s let her – her obsession with making sure that the Pit doesn’t hurt anything and anyone else lead her to some bad decisions. Or maybe –

There’s a shriek behind us, sounding terribly close now. Elena and I look back, as does Euler, but we still can’t see anything.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. If a copepod comes out of nowhere and snatches me right now, that would be it, I’d be done for. I don’t want to even pretend that Elena would turn everyone around and get them to come charging back into certain doom to save my skinny ass. I can imagine the conversation now: “Oh yeah, El, sure we know you were getting your pussy eaten by that frail little skeleton girl from admin but no way in hell we’re risking our neck for her, capisce?”

All it would take, I figure, is for one of them to dart up from behind, where our visibility is the worst, grab my leg, and then reverse and zoom out of sight. They can move so quickly down here it doesn’t seem real. It’s like the way seals move, fluttering around on the ice on their bellies, tucked down and torpedo-shaped, their arms slicked back against their sides unless they’re reaching forward to dig in with their blunt, ichor-caked fingertips, adding momentum, whipping around hairpin turns.

A crazy thought strikes me as I stumble again and Elena wrenches me back to my feet – being a copepod must be like living in a funhouse where everything is a slide. I almost start to laugh but I shove it back down, deep down.

It happens very quickly. There is a loud chittering screech from ahead of us and we both whip around. There in front, clinging to the ceiling of the vent, is a slender copepod, slithering towards us hand over hand. When someone’s headlamp – I think it’s Fumi – strikes it in the face it shrieks and falls on him and one of the guns roars and even though my earplugs are in it is louder than loud, the flash from the muzzle is like the sun, and I think I shriek in terror and surprise and then I really do fall, but Elena, angel that she is, is there to pull me back to my feet.

While I’ve been face-down on the floor someone has shot the copepod a little off-center, and a hole as big around as my fist is half-heartedly gushing a chunky, glutinous white ichor. The copepod’s arms and fins are fluttering and we all give it a wide berth, hustling towards the exit.

It is such a long way off, though, and that copepod was only the first of many. Once we shot the first one there was no going back, and the air quickly turned smoky and foul with the cordite stench of gunfire. It’s impossible to hear anything besides rage-filled animal screeches and the great pounding thud every time someone fires off one of the guns. The pounding and the sharp crackling report melds together in my head and it sounds as though there is an idiot child pounding on a giant drum, having a temper tantrum, right next to me.

Elena tugs me onward. A copepod breaks into the center of our formation and brings its titan fist down in an arc, and though it is pinioned by rifle fire and dies twitching its fist still hurtles downwards and impacts square on Ellis’ head. He falls like a tree and there is cursing over the radio link and someone very close is screaming Ellis’ name and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s me, that I’m the one heaving out his name like it were vomit and staring back at his body, splayed spread-eagle on the ground, his visor shattered, part of his spine jutting through the thick fabric at the back of the neck of the suit. The copepod had hit him so hard that some part of him broke, and his head was forced downward, crushing his neck.

After that I consciously observe very little. It’s like my mind retreats into some dark corner of the inside of my skull and sits there in a huddle weeping while whatever animal, lizard part of me takes the reins is utterly unfazed by everything. I remember little flashes here and there, lit by gunfire; I remember copepods like enamel-white cruise missiles, darting in from barely-seen slits in the walls, their hands reaching for me, Elena slashing at them desperately with her knife; I remember Fumi’s bearded face, drawn and ashen, down on one knee slamming another magazine into his rifle and the sound it made when he pulled the bolt back was like glass shattering; I remember vast white fingers wrapping around Crookshank’s thick waist and jerking him off of his feet and whisking him away into the darkness while everyone twisted and shot haphazardly, trying not to hit him. His face I remember particularly, for it was wide and frightened and for a moment I thought I could see the little boy he’d once been, peering out at me from inside the man’s body and wordlessly begging me to save him, but of course I couldn’t. I had joined in, snatching the pistol from my waist and squeezing off every shot in the magazine back into the darkness behind us. I don’t think I hit anything, other than the walls of the vent, leaving bleeding puncture-marks and a haze of smoke. Then Elena yanked me off of my feet again in her hurry to get us out of there and I had dropped the gun. I cried out for it but there was no helping it, we were long gone.

Our numbers dwindle one by one, first Ellis then Crookshank. I don’t see Klaus get taken; he just disappears in the frantic haze of gunsmoke and flashlight blur, and everyone is calling out for him. I remember the Sergeant barking, his voice like sandpaper, that Klaus is gone, his vitals aren’t registering, just go, and us all going.

I remember seeing Joker, seeing snippets of Joker, rather, caught strobelike in the lights, battering aside a copepod, flashing a gunmetal-grey arm out to block one from reaching for Euler, the crystal set aside on the ground for a moment to give the machine a greater range of motion. I see its fingers fix around the wrist of the copepod and then twist and with a piercing cry of rage the thing draws its hand back, clutching at the bloody, spurting stump where its hand had been, the shock of it giving Joker the moment of hesitation it needed in order to bound towards the copepod and slam its metal fist through the tough but brittle exoskeleton and submerge up to its elbow in the copepod’s guts. It pulls out a handful of slime and then closes its mechanical fist and pounds the copepod in the head and silences its screeching. Then –

“Roan, we have to go!” Elena screams from next to me, but I don’t hear her, I’ve stopped, or almost stopped, turned half around, walking precariously backwards.

There is something looming in the darkness behind Joker, something decidedly not a copepod. Joker’s head whips around, some sort of sensor or scanner detecting the movement, and the floodlights built into the machine’s face illuminate the writhing, terrible bulk of the Leechman, standing there in a slump on two wormy, leech-filled feet, shiny and slick and horrible. I let out a wordless cry and Elena looks back at me and sees it too and stops, I can hear her words die in her throat.

The Leechman is enormous, its height and bulk so immense that it seems to fill the entire breadth of the vent with a solid wall of squirming leeches. Joker cocks its arm back as Euler goggles up at the monstrosity lurking, head cocked at an inquisitive angle, staring down at the metal toy in front of it.

Then before Joker can throw the punch the Leechman reaches down and envelops the machine in one massive appendage. I can see metal cracking, rivulets of rust and slime trickling down Joker’s armored legs. It manages to grab one of the leeches and crush it in its fist but then the Leechman tightens its grasp and one of Joker’s arms pops off, sparking all the way down until it thuds on the corridor floor. Elena is tugging at me but I can’t move, I can’t think, I can only watch, mute, praying the camera is getting all of this, as it scoops up Euler as well in the other arm. He tries to run but doesn’t get anywhere, the arm stretching out after him and nabbing him, tendrils of leeches knotted or grown together slipping over him. I can see them biting into him, forcing themselves into him, and when he opens his mouth to scream they pour inside and he chokes and sputters and then they close over him and he is gone.

The Leechman tosses Joker to the side and he clatters to the ground like a mannequin, the roll-bars on his ribcage bent and shattered, his head dented and compressed. He rolls once then lies still.

Then, with barely a glance in our direction – if it even has eyes, if it even has anything to sense with as I understand the word – the Leechman reaches down and picks up the crystal, and stomps off down the vent. It is such a banal, normal motion that I almost burst out laughing, but I get the feeling that if I let myself laugh I will keep laughing and laughing until everything falls out of me and I’m left empty and echoing.

Ahead of us someone shoots again and a copepod screeches. I turn to see it, darting in, fins streamlined and tucked against its body, spewing ichor from one double-fisted hole in its carapace, a grazing wound, apparently, as it tugs Peter off his feet and down beneath it. I scream his name and start to rush forward but Elena blocks me, then steadies her rifle, but before she can fire the copepod pushes off and bears him struggling into the darkness.

“Goddam it!” I shriek and start after him, but Elena tugs me back and pushes me forward so hard that I go sprawling onto my knees. I cast her a furious glance and scramble to my feet but before I can say something cutting and hurtful that I’ll probably regret, even if Peter’s just been fucking snapped up by a copepod, the Sergeant calls from ahead of us to hurry the fuck up, it’s time to leave, ladies, and I look ahead and see something that makes my jaw drop and my heart do flips in my chest – there ahead of us is the vast metal retaining wall that blocks off the barrows from the rest of the Pit, and there in the center of it is the great reinforced door, standing open and letting a flood of light pour in.

I look at Elena and take her offered hand and she has tears in her eyes but she isn’t faltering, not even for a moment, and in that instant whatever anger I could have felt at her is gone, utterly gone.

Behind us a copepod shrieks and then Fumi – oh, thank god, at least Fumi made it – fires at it, and the slug passes so close to me that I can feel the wind even through the suit, and then we, Elena and I, her arm around me urging me forward and keeping me upright, make it to the door in what feels like an instant, and once we’re through the Sergeant slams it closed and spins the wheel to lock it.

And then, having nothing else sensible to do, I fall to the ground and start to cry.

* * *

I’ve got my helmet off and my sleeves rolled up. My gloves are lying on my stomach. Elena is running her hand softly through my hair and my eyes are a little puffy and sore but I’ve stopped crying. My nose, also, is becoming a little less stuffed, but that means I can smell the Pit again, so it’s a mixed blessing.

Elena’s been crying too but somehow I think she’s pulled it off more gracefully than I have. Instead of bawling and letting it all out in one go she’s managed to keep it down to a mute trickle. Every now and then she wipes at her eyes again and I squeeze her hand tighter for a moment and she squeezes mine back.

Ten minutes ago she’d leant in and held me very tight, even at the awkward angle she could manage, there on the ground, and I could feel in her a shuddering relief, an ease of tension. The copepods had stopped banging on the door ten minutes before that, and we had heard soft slithering sounds as they had retreated, and then we were alone in the silence.

I don’t feel like I’m alive. I don’t feel like I really made it out of there, I feel like a ghost, like I’m looking down from a great height at this slim, dark-haired girl in an ugly orange suit laying on the fleshy floor, looking beat-up and tired and done with this shit but not in a determined way, more like a resigned, given-up, “okay just keep rolling over me, fucking whatever” kind of way.

The Sergeant is quietly arguing with Makado about ten feet away. I’ve turned off my radio so I can’t hear her, just him, one-sided and quietly serious, his face like an Easter Island statue. Moa? Moai? Maui? I should look up the word. I should know something like that.

“Klaus, Crookshank. Ellis is dead for sure, we saw it. Euler. Fumi is okay, Roan’s okay, Elena is okay.”

A pause, then he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I can hear a tinny scream from all the way over here, of terrible rage that turns to grief partway through, and I know from the sound of it that she’s asked about Peter. I look at Elena and she looks at me.

“Are you okay?” she mouths at me, which is a question so incredibly dumb given the situation that my immediate instinct is to roll my eyes at her. Then it strikes me how incredibly understated just rolling my eyes would be and I nearly start crying again, and she sees it on my face and immediately her whole face shifts. She leans in and the sheer amount of care there does a strange thing to me and I bite my lip hard and reach out for her and put my hand to her cheek, and she kisses my palm despite how sweaty and gross it must be and I allow myself the indulgence of one brief moment to feel utterly, stupendously, selfishly relieved that her and I both are okay.

I again want to tell her something I know I shouldn’t but I stop myself. “No,” the Sergeant is saying, meanwhile. “No, we didn’t get the crystal.”

I hear another, quieter outburst from the other end, and the Sergeant holds the radio a little further away from his ear. “Joker’s fucked,” he says patiently. “As is Euler.”

“The Leechman got the crystal,” I call. My voice is scratchy. I cough, clear my throat and then repeat myself. “I saw it,” I add.

“Me too,” Elena nods, glancing at me. “Roan’s right, it was the Leechman.”

The Sergeant glances at us for a moment, probably wondering if our judgment can be trusted at the present moment, then nods and repeats what we’ve just told him to Makado. I hear a tiny sound of something shattering as if thrown and then the radio clicks off with a screech. The Sergeant sticks it back into his belt holster with a sigh and looks over at us. Fumi hasn’t said a word since we made it through the barrier; he’s slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. He looks up and when I can see his face it’s as though he’s a different person – that aura of impenetrable cool he’d maintained so elegantly up until now is utterly shattered.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” the Sergeant tells us, and after a moment Elena nods and gets to her feet and helps me up and then we get the fuck out of there.

We make our way through Oyster’s Shame and up the Cord. It is, insanely, four in the afternoon, which seems so banal and impossible to me that I nearly start laughing when Elena tells me the time. It feels like it’s about 13 in the evening or so.

We take frequent breaks, rest our legs and our hearts. There is less of a sense of urgency now, and the Sergeant doesn’t care as much what we do as long as we all stay together. Even so we don’t talk much. There’s nothing to say, or maybe there’s too much.

When we get to the top of the Cord the Sergeant looks back at us, pausing before he opens the door. It looks like he’s going to say something, but he stops, shakes his head minutely, and throws it open. The light from the harsh fluorescents pours down on him and for a moment all I can see is a silhouette.

Then a gunshot rings out from the vent behind him and the Sergeant takes one step forward, totters and falls. He lands hard on the metal grating of the floor and doesn’t move. A red pinprick brightens in the middle of his back, just on the other side of where his heart would have been.

I hear rattling from the staircase below as Fumi somehow manages to spur himself into action and sprint down it, taking the stairs two at a time. Before Elena or I can force ourselves to move, a figure steps into view. It holds a very big revolver and it’s aimed straight at me. Elena and I glance at each other and then raise our hands shakily into the air, and the figure cocks its head lightly, and as my eyes adjust to the light I can see it grin. Then I can see more of its face and I feel my mouth drop open as I start to say its name.

“Surprise,” Erica Walken says.

Continue with Part 23

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#mystery flesh pit #writing #writeblr #original writing #horror #novel #Michael Crichton #caving #disaster #thriller

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it.

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’.

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'.

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there.

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else.

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice.

When he left us, everyone did.

---- ---- ---- ----

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now.

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip.

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train.

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London.

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members.

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't.

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father.

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly.

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me.

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?”

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.”

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely.

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could.

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.”

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule. In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony.

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister.

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all.

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features.

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by.

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall.

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony.

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats.

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly.

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine.

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do.

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks.

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips.

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control.

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly.

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his.

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards, as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead.

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said.

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?”

“I do, sir.”

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked.

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

#prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryff #royalfanficcollection #princeharryfanfiction #princeharryfanfic #brf #fanfic #fanfiction #modern royalty fanfic #chapters #modern royalty au #im so excited about this story #but also like #really nervous #i missed this

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