#none in the immediate future for me though
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Drabbles
I'm poorly and is it really so much to ask for either Leon, or Clive, or Halsin or Gale to come look after me? 🤒
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Halsin would be great at it as a healer by trade. Rest is what he prescribes most, but he knows all of nature's remedies that will help ease any ailments you are suffering with. The more bitter-tasting ones he tries to sweeten with only the finest honest for his beloved - he hates when you grimace, only ever wants to bring a smile to your face.
He stays by your side, catering to your every whim, regaling you with stories from his youth when you don't want to sleep. Sometimes he'll sit you in his lap, cheek pressed against his chest and the vibrations of his dulcet tones, as well as kisses to your crown lull you to sleep.
--
Gale I kinda picture sending his mirror image to be at your side with pre-set comforting words, even using mage hand to bring you things from a safe distance, especially when he's still got the orb.
You: "It's just a cold, Gale. I'm only sneezing."
Gale: "My darling, what is to you a simple sneeze for me could literally be a city-levelling event!"
Once he deems you no longer a threat, he dotes on you for days after to make up for the absence of his physical touch.
And, of course, you have no qualms of milking it for weeks after.
--
Clive would fuss over you like a mother hen, running himself ragged fetching you whatever you needed, forgoing sleep in case you need him - despite Tarja'e repeated assurances that you would be just fine after a few days of rest.
Someone mentions a rare bloom the other side of Valisthea that will ease your sore throat? He's off to fetch it at once (the Cursebreakers offer but he will hear none of it), and even though you are recovered by the time of his return, he has made sure to bring enough to sow in the Backyard for future patients.
Him being one of them, of course, after running himself down to the point of exhaustion, but you return the favour of staying by his side - it is rare for him to be in one place for so long, after all.
--
Kinda alluded to this in a fic, but if Leon had just returned from a mission containing anything to do with viruses and you mention you don't feel good, he's immediately pulling in the strings to make sure he's not contaminated you somehow.
After it's confirmed everything is fine, he is in his element. Leon likes to have an assignment to keep his mind occupied and nursing you back to health is of top priority. He orders all sorts of soups from your favourite deli, making sure you dutifully take your medicine and stay hydrated, all whilst cuddling up with you in bed inbetween.
When you warn him that he'll get sick, he scoffs. Says he's had enough viruses in his bloodstream over the years not to be afraid of the common cold.
#ghostdogwrites#leon kennedy x you#clive rosfield x you#gale dekarios x you#halsin x you#Some feverish drabbles#Maybe I'll delete them in the morning#leon kennedy x reader#clive rosfield x reader#gale dekarios x reader#Halsin x reader#Multifandoms drabble
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Hunter’s Daughter- Kristanna Vampire AU Pt 4
Universe: Vampire AU [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Rating: T (Teen & Up, mentions of sex)
Length: 1723 Words
A/N: Kristanna Advent 2022 Day 8. I can’t help but revisit this one every now and again. I fully planned on being done with it last year, but I have a couple more scenes in me that I’d like to write so you can probably expect 2-3 more of these in the future.
Kristoff had changed careers, at least somewhat. He still hunted with the blessing of his wife and sister-in-law, but he’d also taken up some less dangerous work at the local sawmill. He’d still send in fangs to the hunter’s guild, if only to prevent anyone seeking him out and potentially learning about his wife and sister-in-law. These days little of his income came from that trade, most of his work being using his axe for more palatable purposes. The mill owner didn’t care what hours he kept, only that the work was done, and he’d found it useful even that Kristoff preferred working in the evenings rather than the mornings because it allowed him to get more done between a day shift and a night shift. It wasn’t necessary that he work at night of course, he was human, but it did give him time to build up a schedule before it became necessary.
He doubted that he’d ever stop hunting entirely, even if Anna finally agreed to turn him, because despite it all he still wanted to make the world a safer place. These days the only hunting he did was to destroy the monsters who killed to sate their appetite, but to his great pleasure he’d found in his travels, some vampires who were moral enough to feed from humans without killing them. Some were established in large cities and had pools of consenting volunteers who liked to be bitten, which he’d have more opinions about if he himself didn’t enjoy his wife feeding from him. He’d even met a couple of vampires who, like Elsa and Anna, fed from animal blood rather than human.
He doubted that he would ever be able to change the mind of the hunters who’d raised him, to show them that not all vampires were cruel, but he was content to spend his life, his potential eternity, protecting his little family in every way he could. He’d never let hunters take his wife from him, nor would he allow them to touch her sister. He also intended to provide for them, bringing in his own small financial contribution to their household despite Elsa and Anna’s insistence that it was unnecessary given their wealth.
He did it regardless, feeling better when he provided what he could, particularly in recent months.
“Welcome home,” Anna said as he walked through the door, “I made us dinner.”
It was nearly midnight, but their “dinner” was always more akin to a midnight snack. Anna didn’t really need to eat, her sustenance came from blood, his at times and animals’ blood at others, but she could eat for the taste if she wanted to and Kristoff enjoyed the company.
“You’ve been doing so much of the cooking for me lately,” he said as he shucked off his books and doffed his coat, “You should be resting.”
She approached him for a hug and received it, her swollen stomach making it difficult to hold her as close as he’d like to. She’d always been slight and lately it looked like she’d taken to putting a watermelon under her gown. He’d so rarely ever seen pregnant women in his life, and it had been a blessing when he’d found a female vampire in the city who was a midwife and surgeon’s assistant who had confirmed to him that Anna’s progress was normal and that she’d be happy to assist in the birthing. He'd not been wholly disgusted, as he once would have been, that her work was how she kept herself fed.
“I’m nesting, I want to cook. I’ve cleaned the whole house top to bottom every day this week and our little one will need normal food for some time after the milk, and I still sometimes eat out of habit, plus you need to eat for now, so please don’t fuss. It’s a good hobby for me.”
He never won when he argued with her save for the extraordinary circumstance in which she couldn’t find a flaw in his logic, so he simply nodded.
“Good,” she said cheerily, “Elsa and I had steak so that’s what I made you.”
“Steak” was cow’s blood for her and actual meat for him. He’d come to find some humor in the ways in which she and her sister referred to the blood they drank by the meats they were born from. Pig’s blood was pork, sometimes cheekily ham or bacon, sheep’s’ blood was mutton, chicken’s blood was… well chicken, and the list went on and on.
She rarely, if ever actually ate the meat with him, but instead frequently made herself a taster of the vegetables and starches that she cooked for him along with it.
You’ll see someday, she’d told him some months before, vegetables and desserts and grains and things taste nice, but cooked meat just sort of has a taste of char.
He wondered if he would experience that as well and whether the child she carried would ever appreciate the taste of a well cooked piece of meat.
Babies were something of a new territory for them. The hunters’ society had never said anything at all about vampire children, likely because the conditions to create them were vile in one circumstance and likely unrecorded in their methodology. He’d found, since meeting Anna and Elsa that there was plenty that hunters didn’t know about vampires, and he supposed that someday he could write the book on the matter if it weren’t for the fact that he never wanted to offer anyone, anywhere the sort of information that could lead to someone in his little family getting hurt.
“How was the mill?”
He smiled, following her into the dinning room of their family home. She almost waddled from the extra weight around her front, and he wished that he had been around to witness the likely comical way she’d been cleaning their home with her daughter getting in the way.
Of course, they didn’t know that it was a girl, he just felt certain of it. He’d been sure that she’d have a girl from the first night he dreamed of a little red-haired baby with his brown eyes. Elsa also thought as much, having both the same gut inclination and the “proof” of the pendulum test she’d performed with Anna the day she’d been informed of the pregnancy.
“It was nice,” he said, “I like the work, it makes me feel productive.”
She smiled at him and sat at his side when he settled at their overlarge dinner table. Once he was seated, she removed the cloche from his plate that was keeping the food warm and then removed a second from her own plate which included a variety of the vegetables she’d been growing herself in the estate’s garden.
“I’m glad, I wouldn’t want you to do it if you didn’t like it, but I do have to admit that you doing safer work closer to home has me feeling much better with the baby almost here.”
“I know,” he said fondly, spearing some of the same vegetables on his plate with a fork, “I’m happy that I get to come home every night and make sure all is well. I’ll have to go back to hunting once she’s born, if only to keep anyone from looking for me, but I think that working close to home is ideal.”
She ate her vegetables slowly, savoring the taste, while he ate quite speedily, feeling hungry from the day’s work.
“Was your steak enough?”
“The baby has me feeding more often… eating for two I suppose, but I think that eating the vegetables and things is helping. I suppose that the parts of me that are still functioning like a normal person are getting the nutrients to her even if the steak is the only thing that feeds me. So to make a long story short, yes, it was.”
He nodded, “Because you know you can always ask… I’m always offering Anna.”
She nodded in return, “I know, but you know that makes me terribly amorous most of the time, and despite the fact that I’d rarely if never say no to your attentions, she’s been kicking all day and I…”
He didn’t mean to interrupt, not really, but he couldn’t help himself.
“She?”
Anna blushed, evidence to him that she wasn’t fibbing about having been well fed. She could only ever flush when she’d fed recently. He always knew that she needed more to drink when she was pale.
“Okay, I might finally believe you and Elsa that the baby is a girl. I don’t know how I know, but I just… I know it.”
He grinned appreciatively.
“Which is the same thing we’ve been saying. When did you realize it?”
“I don’t know that realize is the right word love… It’s more that I just felt it today, that she was there and she was going to be so beautiful and have all my clumsiness and fire and your sense and… God Kristoff I just, I love her already, even if she’s not a her.”
He watched as her hands settled lovingly on her stomach and he set down his cutlery to do the same.
“She is… and if she isn’t we’ll love them just the same. I already love her too Anna, because she’s ours and she’s going to be every good and bad part of us both which is perfect.”
“Oh no, she might have your feet!”
He knew that she was teasing him, but for a moment he saw legitimate concern flash over her features.
“Oh gosh, delivery will be terrible if she has your feet.”
As if to prove a point, the baby kicked.
He laughed to himself while Anna groaned.
“You have my apologies in advance. Let’s hope she has your innocent expression; you’ll forgive her instantly with one look.”
“Is that why you can never stay mad at me, even when I do things that make you cross?”
He didn’t answer, instead gently running his fingers in circles over the fabric covered bump and using his other hand to feed himself.
He couldn’t tell her that. It would give her entirely too much power, and even though he’d always been struck by her goodness, he knew that she would use such information for evil.
#kristanna advent 2022#kristanna#vampire au#vampire hunter au#tw pregnancy#this year's advent is going to have a lot of pregnancy fics#also probably wedding fics just as an fyi#why you ask?#because I'm 26 and everyone in my life is getting married and having babies#and I am also getting married#and I FUCKIN LOVE BABIES#none in the immediate future for me though#unless you count the cat#and she certainly counts herself as a baby#she even climbs on me so I carry her around like one#anywho I'm talking in the tags again#apologies
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i was hoping to make a post like this under happier circumstances, but here goes.
as some of you know, everything with the cancellation and renewal campaign has happened right on top of the worst part of my mom's cancer treatment (plus the show was cancelled on my actual birthday 💀). i won't go into details, but it's been tough. lots of ups and downs, mostly downs, luckily ending (for now) on as much of an up as circumstances allow. the whole thing has been weirdly tied to the cancellation for me, kind of amplifying every feeling. the grief got mixed up, and there was so much of it - mourning the loss of the kind of future i thought i'd have with my mother and the time we might not get, mourning the end of a show that means so much to me and is such a big part of my life. different types of grief, sure, and of different magnitudes, but in one big ugly swirl. i sort of had a breakdown right at the start of february, and it was because of news about my mom, but it morphed into my brain telling me everything i'd ever written was shit and wanting to delete it all. stuff like that, spilling over.
anyway. i was holding off on writing this post to see if the show got picked up by someone else. but i still want to say it. because what also spilled over was the support and community from this fandom, and being in this space (despite the rough times and high emotions) helped me through it, because of all of you here. whether we talk regularly, or you left a comforting reply or simply a like on one of my posts about having a hard time (i tried to keep them few), or wrote a nice comment on a fic, or said something funny or nice or insightful in the tags of a gifset, or was active here (or on twt) in any way, talking/sharing/creating stuff about the show - THANK YOU.
you all helped me through all the ups and downs, and i am so grateful. thank you for being here, listening, distracting, helping me feel some joy despite the horrors. i love you and i love this incredible show and all it has brought and will continue to bring and inspire, and although it should go without saying, i'm not going anywhere. just do me a favor and give yourself a big ol' hug from me, and know that you made a difference for some random guy on the internet (but in reality for many more, and for this fandom as a whole, just by being here and being you) 💕
#🐭📓#oh wow this got long#i grieved so much in january and never truly got my hopes up even though i of course wished something would happen#that the second “cancellation” message did not hit me as hard as it did for others - like i'd already absorbed that reality#but no matter what. all the effort was worth it - even for just the slightest chance of renewal and showing the cast and crew all the love#and seeing the fandom rally and all the fun moments we found along the way in a shitty situation none of us wished to be in#and for the record - i don't think this means there is no possibility of anything happening in the future#i just think the current/immediate negotiations fell through due to the current streaming landscape#you never know what can happen even if nothing happens for years#it's just that it's not happening right now and we shouldn't be at the edge of our seats. but instead settle into long term fandom mode#instead of constant campaign mode. keep showing all our love for the show and letting it inspire us and move us#and keep supporting the cast and crew in their next works#there is so much more to come from the same creative minds#and i for one am looking forward to experiencing it with you all 💗#ok i will stop rambling now skdjfhdjks
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(crawls feebly into frame) i wasn't able to make a mini cover today like i wanted because UTAU-synth hates me but at the very least i have some barely touched renders to commemorate the occasion (hell beast release day)
UST file by UtauRezio
#just vocasynth things#happy 12th and simultaneously also 4th birthday crevan i got you none accent with left voicebank w#this vb was. uh. supposed to release today but#as of june last year i was still only about#(checks notes) about 53% complete with the oto#and would only be Fully complete with the oto if i fully oto'd at least 6 samples every day until#(checks notes again) this last december#long story short i would have died had i not tabled the project sdkfjhgldjf#one day i'll get things out there ! ! ! !#for now though future me is screaming and biting and killing me with hammers#the things i do to myself <33333#EDIT: (hits play and is immediately hit by the fact that i mixed this with my bad earbuds) oh my
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I hope all those people who claim to "love Yuta but not Hinata" thinking they're so right because "ooh, all the suffering he put his little brother through" know that Yuta himself would be the first person to hate them for that claim.
#have any of you heard of the ”the only person who can bully my brother is me” phrase? that's yuta#and I think some of you don't understand that for some reason?#see. being a 2winkP is difficult because none of them show their immediate emotions#they're a tangled thread that you have to untangle and decipher yourself little by little#and.. yeah. I've noticed that some newcomers are not particularly good at this#(not only talking about eng platers btw. also old enstarries who're recently starting to learn about winkwink)#also this is one of the reasons why I looove HinaPs. they tend to be much more understanding about the lore than most yuuPs. idk why though#perhaps the level of relatableness they feel for their respective faves? I'd love to indagate on the topic more. in the future#anyway that's today's claim sorry for the ramble#❝ ritz.txt !!#enstars#2wink#yuta aoi#yuuta aoi#hinata aoi
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I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).
However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.
She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.
And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?
Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.
So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.
If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.
Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:
It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.
Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:
Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.
And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:
That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.
It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone
So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.
Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.
But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.
And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.
Izutsumi...
is a foil to Falin.
Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.
Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.
And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.
In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.
She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.
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They left me no choice.
The animation industry is an absolute trash fire right now, and TBH... I don't think it's going to recover. Not in a form I recognize, anyway.
I could go on all day about the self-hating monster that is the Animation Business, but I've said it all before. Right now, none of the major studios are making much of anything, and almost all of what they are making is "library content". I'm currently doing storyboard revisions alongside a number of other former producers and directors, and I'm lucky to have the work. Once all of the mismanagement and the mergers get sorted, though, there should be plenty of room for more mismanagement and mergers. And the A.I. Don't forget the A.I.
It seems that I either give myself over fully to the souring corporate teat in the hopes that I can pretend that I still live in a world where "the grind" matters. Or I take a risk and make one big push to do... something.
First up:
Billy & Mandy vs. The Entertainment Industry:
This is my interview/reality/documentary show on the making of The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy from stem to stern. I'll be talking to as many people as I can who worked on the show about all sorts of different parts of the process. We'll definitely get to voice actors, but the first segment is probably going to be about Billy & Mandy's pre-history and the Big Pick Weekend.
The Upward Expedition:
This is my pick for my indie show. I have a bible. I have a decade of ideas. Time to sit down and tell a story. I want to get some screen sharing going at some point. I'll definitely share artwork as well as the trials and tribulations of getting from There to Back Again.
I'd love to get a Discord server going and provide a place where people can talk about the stuff I'm making (and the entertainment industry in general). I still have enough Billy & Mandy swag left that I'm sure I'll factor that stuff in as well.
In the immediate future, the funding goes to securing a space to do the interviews and probably to banking money for voice actors. I'm still deciding on my update schedule, but it should start in earnest next week.
I'm excited. Pretty scared... but also excited.
More updates to come. Definitely let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see on the Patreon!
As always, thanks for sticking around!
#maxwell atoms#patreon#the grim adventures of billy & mandy#billy and mandy#the upward expedition#cartoons#animation#documentary#crowdfunding
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
TAGLIST:
@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#hazbin hotel#lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel x reader#lxkeee updates#lucifer morningstar#“MLIMAM” — LUCIFER X READER
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Hiii! I hope you're doing well 🫶💍
Can I please ask your headcannons about how would lucifer, mammon, satan, beel, diavolo and barbatos react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips?
I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭
I'm feeling the vibe of soft casual love today. It's okay if you don't answer, but I'd be really happy if you did! Lots of love, stay warm 🩷🩷🩷
MC offers their chapstick
Note: Huh my motivation is partly back
Gender: neutral
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Lucifer
He says that he doesn't need it of course even though he really does and you offering your chapstick makes him notice his dry lips even more
You already left him so he could continue to work in peace, but your words simply don't let him go
His tongue keeps darting out to lick over his lips which makes it only worse and the feeling bothers him more with every second
Only half an hour passes until he looks for you around the house to ask if the offer still stands
Mammon
WHAT?! YOUR CHAPSTICK?! BUT IT WAS ON YOUR LIPS FIRST! SO IT WOULD BE LIKE A KISS MQJSBAJAN
He immediately short circuits and isn't responding for a couple seconds
"If you're really insistin'."
Mammon snatches the chapstick away from you and puts on a thick layer
"I actually thought that I could put it on you, but that works too I guess."
He's devastated
You better be prepared to share it some more in the future, because he will ask for it on a regular basis and don't even think about buying him one. He wants yours
Satan
A light blush is forming on his cheeks and ears upon your offer, but he'd be a fool to decline it. It's the closest he can get to a kiss for now after all especially when you get so close to his face to put it on
He takes an extra moment to rub his lips properly together and is surprised by the pleasant taste. Would a kiss taste like this as well? The thought alone makes him become even more red
"Should I buy you one too?"
"No, but thank you. I don't need it that often."
Wrong! He just wants an excuse to use yours
Beelzebub
Of course he's not one to say no to that! It's so kind of your to offer it in the first place. Not many people are paying as much attention to him as you do
Much to your surprise though Beel leans forward with his eyes closed which makes you think for a second that he's actually about to kiss you
Beel shoots a small smile in your direction as he thanks you. Ugh, so handsome...
You make sure to offer him your chapstick more often in the future
Diavolo
"Oh, I didn't even notice that my lips are so dry!"
"So can I put it on then?"
"Absolutely!"
Much like Beel he has to bend over a little bit so you could reach him better
Being this close to him really makes you realize just how attractive he is. As if having the prince of hell only inches away from your face isn't intimidating enough
But he seems to genuinely enjoy it
Barbatos
No idea how this man manages to take such good care of his appearance while handling so many tasks
So it's kind of a big thing when you notice that his lips are super dry AND HE EVEN APOLOGIZES FOR "BEING SUCH A MESS" LIKE BABE IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL
"Thank you so much for pointing it out. Could you maybe be so kind and put it on for me? I'm afraid my hands are full at the moment."
ANYTHING FOR YOU, LOVE
It's a short moment, but somehow incredibly intimate
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#obey me headcanons#obey me boys#obey me x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me luci x reader#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me luci#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel x reader#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me diavolo#obey me dia#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me barbatos#obey me barbatos x reader
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‘Damian.’ You called over your shoulder, eyes firmly locked on the thing that currently held your undivided attention.
‘Yeah?’ You heard him call back from another room.
‘Why the fuck is there a cow in your kitchen?’ Damian’s brow was immediately raised upon hearing this. Cow? There’s no way Bat-Cow could’ve- Damian then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before joining you in the kitchen, where he could clearly see that the white and brown Bovine cow was indeed in the kitchen, just like you had said.
Now the question of how the cow had gotten into the manor -undetected no less- was a mystery entirely because surly someone would’ve noticed a 610kg, white and brown cow mindlessly clopping down the corridor from rooms away. But none of that mattered anymore as it was irrelevant to the current situation you and Damian both found yourselves in.
‘This day was bound to happen sooner or later, y/n this is Bat-Cow, the family…well cow.’ Damian said as though it were nothing new but for you, everything was made even more confusing. ‘And why do you have a pet cow? is Wayne Enterprises expanding into the farming business is it?’ You asked and Damian felt a headache about to come on.
‘Tt. No, me and father saved Bat-Cow from going to a slaughterhouse and have kept them ever since.’ He explained as he then moved past you to gently pet the cow on the muzzle, smiling softly when Bat-Cow made a noise of content. ‘Besides, this is nothing in comparison to Goliath.’
You made a face at this. ‘I’m sorry but Goliath who?’ You asked and Damian only continued to amuse himself as he petted Bat-Cow. ‘Exactly.’ He couldn’t wait to see your reaction firsthand.
Bruce tends to overwork himself to death most of the time, much to yours and Alfred’s disappointment.
You understood why he does what he does but did he necessarily have to neglect his own health and well-being to do so?
Gotham was a piece of work that is always under continuous construction, never in the hopes of being made better, but instead to be pushed to the side and left to slowly corrode and rot. Gotham was an ever developing plot hole that was bound to become even more than an issue then first assumed.
Gotham wasn’t a place worth saving for it always found a way to relapse back into old harmful habits, much so to the point where it’s own civilians didn’t care whether the city would survive another day, with all the chaos and destruction that seemed to be happening on the daily.
In Gotham it was easy as piss for one to lose all sense of empathy, humility and humanity.
Expect for one man. Bruce Wayne aka Batman. A shining beacon of hope for the future of Gotham in your eyes, a person who looked at the piss, shit and grime that flooded the streets and thought; I could help make this a better place, not by much, but just enough so that the civilians could rest easy knowing they’re looked out for. No matter if I get beaten down again and again, I’ll always get back up because if I don’t, then who will if not me? And you loved him for that and loved even more when he first brought Dick home, followed shortly by Jason, Tim and Damian with the inclusions of Stephenie, Cassandra and Duke respectively.
So nowadays whenever you wanted Bruce to rest, you’d call upon the help of the kids -now grown ass adults with lives of their own- and Alfred to help you drag Bruce away from the screens of the bat-computer.
‘You could’ve just asked nicely.’ Bruce said as he walked with the likes of you, Tim, Dick, Jason and Barbra out of the bat cave after successfully getting Bruce to join you and the remainder of the family- whom were waiting for you all in the dinner room- for dinner that Alfred made.
‘We did, multiple times.’ Jason replied.
‘Well if you consider pulling back his chair from under him asking then yes, yes we did.’ Tim then said as Dick butted himself in the conversation. ‘I mean, it did work in our favour in getting the old man out of the bat cave.’ Murmurs of agreement followed as you leaned against Bruce, staring at your gaggle of kids with nostalgia, chuckling.
‘What’re you laughing to yourself about?’ Bruce asks and you shrug.
‘Nothing, it’s just nice to see that your soft spot for them hasn’t changed after all this time.’ You replied, holding onto his arm as he pressed a small kiss to your head and hums in agreement.
‘They happen to take after you, and you’re hard to say no to in any capacity.’ Bruce answers and you couldn’t help but squint your eyes at him. ‘Liar.’ You tell him with a grin. ‘You just don’t want to admit that I’m right.’
Bruce chuckles and kisses your cheek. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right about one thing.’ He concedes and allows you to drag him down the hallway, happy to be able to see his family all in one place.
Jason who might as well make his apartment a makeshift animal shelter because of how many strays he brings in from off of the street and dangerous living situations.
The pattern in this being that the strays he brings in were dogs that were heavily stereotyped as dangerous and aggressive, hurt, or missing a limb in some capacity. So there would be days where you’d come home to find Jason bathing an XL bully and a Pit bull, whom had some scarring left from when they were used as an illegal fighting dog, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye as you discarded your coat and went to help Jason in drying them off.
‘Where’d you find this one then Jason?’ You asked as you ran a hand through the Pit bulls short fur as it fell asleep on his lap while the XL bully fell asleep in yours.
‘In an alleyway where I was just about finishing up my patrol, tucked away in a darkened corner in a rotting cardboard box where I could heard them whimpering as clear as day.’ He responded. You could hear the anger in his voice towards the mistreatment of the poor dogs and reached over to hold his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb.
‘You saved them Jason. You’ve given them much more than what their previous owner did tenfold.’ You reassured him, letting him know that the good he’s done will stick with the dogs for a long, long time. ‘Are you planning to give them to Damian to look after before finding them a good home?’ You then asked, having dawn to terms a long time ago that you nor Jason would have the time to properly take care of them yourselves, no matter how much you wanted to but you knew in this instance you couldn’t be selfish.
‘I would but Damian already has his hands full with the Doberman and Staffy we found last time,’ Jason sifted in his seat to look at you, ‘apparently Titus, Alfred and Ace have grown attached to them and refuse to the idea of them leaving. So Bruce is in the process of legally having the dogs be put under his care.’
You visibly perk up as you cuddled the XL bully to your chest. ‘Does that mean?’ Jason couldn’t help but laugh at your inherent cuteness as he pecked your lips. ‘Yes, we get to shelter them a little while longer chipmunk.’ He murmurs against your lips and you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from his lips out of happiness.
‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’ You asked.
Jason hums. ‘You have but once more couldn’t hurt now would it?’ He teases.
Not even a week later and you and Jason decided to keep Riley the XL bully and Roy the Pit bull and you both love them dearly.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc x y/n#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc fanfiction#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd fic#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.
Word Count: 9.8 k
Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision
Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more.
“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”
Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force.
“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind.
“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.
Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.
Fuck, this is bad.
Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.
“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.
“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off.
“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected.
Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him.
With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.
Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.
The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.
Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.
Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.
It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.
Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.
Who said you needed to rush off anyway?
As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.
Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.
Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.
And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.
Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace.
“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.
“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”
It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways.
Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis.
He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet.
The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted.
“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips.
Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.
If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…
Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself.
He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.
…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon.
A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest.
You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.
“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.
Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”
Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.
“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.
Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.
“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs.
More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.
Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.
“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face.
There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him.
Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.
“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”
“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.
His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.
“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.”
Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork.
“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.
He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away.
“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips.
“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.
There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.
Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.
“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.
You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”
Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.
He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.
The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.
It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon.
“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”
You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.
There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.”
“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss.
“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.
Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed.
Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.
One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling.
He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.
There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”
This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold.
“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race.
Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”
“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.
“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.
Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.
An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base.
With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office.
“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.
“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?”
“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.
He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.
Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze.
“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.
Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”
Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?”
The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.
Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.
“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”
The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart.
He has dragged you into hell with him.
“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”
“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.
Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”
The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said.
Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”
With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.
The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known.
Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.
Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you.
He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight.
“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably.
More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible.
“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”
That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured.
“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.
Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.
“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.
Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”
“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”
“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”
More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before.
“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?
Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”
He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think.
You can give him time, right?
“Please, Simon, just look at me.”
Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.
“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another.
Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”
Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time.
Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.
“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.
Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”
You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same.
Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen.
Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.
But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.
Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way.
Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours.
Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”
“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”
Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”
Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”
The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.
He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”
In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.
“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern.
You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head.
Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”
Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?
Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?”
You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”
Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness.
“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”
Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.
Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had.
Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.
You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.
“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today.
“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go.
You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”
“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside.
“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.
There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.
You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.
“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.”
Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?
It doesn’t make sense.
“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…”
Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”
More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant.
“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“Are you saying you want to go against Price?”
His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else.
“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”
“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth.
You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.
At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.
Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…”
You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid.
Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.
“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”
He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?”
You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.”
Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.
A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg.
Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.
“Make it count,” you breathe.
You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.
His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.
“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets.
He is gone.
The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.
The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…
What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it.
He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.
The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?
It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?
Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.
“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”
The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”
Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.
“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”
“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.
“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this.
“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”
Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”
Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon smut#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley angst#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost call of duty#ghost#cod ghost#cod
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Twisted Zoo (Prologue)
Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.
Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.
WARNINGS: none for now
Note: This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui except I decided to take it a step further and include all the dorms. I know that a lot of these animals don’t fit them perfectly, but I did the best I could. I left out Ortho because he has no age and he looks really young so… no.
All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.
Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.
Chapter One here
—----------------------
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Crowley.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. (Y/n)!”
You smiled up at your new boss, taking in his eccentric appearance- everything from his crow feather-lined cape, to his sparkling suit, to his top hat, and to the black bird mask that covered half his face.
That name suits him.
“Now, you’re mainly a researcher, but you will also be assisting with some of the general chores, such as feeding the animals,” Mr. Crowley explained what you already knew.
“That’s alright,” you said, smiling brightly, “That will allow me to observe even more of their behaviors.”
You were fresh out of college and ready to face The Halfling Zoo. There was plenty of debate whether it was okay to treat half-humans as animals and keep them in a zoo, but it was convenient for you. You didn’t have to travel the world to attempt to study animals from afar through a camera lens.
“You will be supervising the lion and hyena exhibit, the wolf exhibit, the panther and tiger exhibit, the bird exhibits, the reptile house, and the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley explained.
“Wait, did you mean to say the lions and hyenas are together? And the panthers and tigers? Or did I misunderstand?” you asked, confused.
“They are bonded groups, so it would be wrong to separate them,” Crowley explained, “Halflings don’t always act like their animal counterparts.”
You nodded, cursing yourself internally. You had learned that on your first day at college! How could I be so stupid to forget about the bonds different Halfling species make?
“Follow me,” Mr. Crowley’s voice broke through your thoughts, “I’ll show you around.”
The two of you left the cramped office in the main staff building and headed out onto the guests’ paths. You could see a few families walking by- less than usual, since it was nearing closing time. It felt as though the sky was growing darker by the minute as the sun made its way down the horizon, beautiful orange and pink clouds lighting its path.
You almost immediately arrived at the lion and hyena exhibit. It was a huge enclosure, the terrain so detailed that you felt as though you had stepped straight into an African savannah. In fact, you could even feel the heat emanating from the ground itself.
“We keep it as hot as their home naturally is,” Mr. Crowley explained, reading your thoughts, “They’re happy here- it’s home with no need to hunt to survive.”
You nodded, but inside you wondered if that was really true or not. Were they really happier in a giant cage on display for humans than they were in Africa? You couldn’t imagine feeling that way.
Mr. Crowley pointed out a big rock where a pride of lions had gathered, “On top of that rock is the top dog- er, cat, I mean. The king of the jungle.”
Upon closer inspection, and a lot more eye strain, you could make out a figure lying on the top of the large rock. It was a Lion Halfling, with tan skin and thick, dark mane of brown hair that fell to his shoulders, except for the braids in front of his face, which were even longer. You could just make out the lion’s ears on top of his head and the lion’s tail draped over the rock’s side.
“And those are the hyenas,” Mr. Crowley supplied, pointing to the edge of the enclosure, “They’re used to aggressive females, so the males might be a little jumpy around you.”
You remembered reading about that in school, but it was amazing to see all the Halflings in person. You couldn’t help but feel excited to study them up close. Imagine if you made a big discovery that no one else had ever discovered about Halflings! After all, there were a lot of unknowns about them.
“Onto the wolf exhibit!” Mr. Crowley said in a sing-song voice.
The enclosure was right across the way from the lions and hyenas, but it had a completely different feel. The air was cooler when you walked up to the giant forest. Through the trees, it was difficult to actually see any wolf halflings. You thought you saw a flash of white, but it was too quick to tell.
“Yes, well, this exhibit is pretty quiet during the day,” the zoo director said awkwardly, “They’ll be out tonight, howling at the moon and whatnot.”
“Wolves don’t actually howl at the moon,” you helpfully supplied, “They howl to communicate with other wolves.”
Mr. Crowley stared at you for a moment and you wondered if you had annoyed him, until he grinned widely, “Such a knowledgeable new researcher!”
You smiled at the compliment, a little embarrassed as the two of you headed for the panther and tiger exhibit. You were surprised to see it alive with Halflings, all of them staring back at the two of you with narrowed eyes.
“There’s two black panthers,” Mr. Crowley pointed them out, “and two albino tigers. The four of them are as thick as thieves.”
You cautiously waved at them, but they merely turned away and disappeared into the jungle enclosure. You wondered if they were somehow curious to see you, or if they always did this to guests.
“Next, the bird exhibits!” Mr. Crowley led the way to the aviary. He pointed out Halflings left and right in the closely-packed enclosures, “A parrot, three albino peacocks, two flamingos, an owl, and a raven. You’ll get to know them well, since they’re mostly all very friendly. Except the peacocks are a little cocky.”
You giggled a little and waved to all the birds. It was a futile effort, because, save for the owl halfling, they were all fast asleep. The owl halfling stayed on his perch, wings tucked around his body, his bespectacled face scrutinizing you. Not in a rude way, just sort of deciding what you were.
You followed Mr. Crowley into a heated building with a glass wall on one side. You peered through the glass wall and immediately spotted the Boa Constrictor Halfling lying against the wall. Human until the torso, which then winded into a snake tail.
“Don’t be fooled!” Mr. Crowley said, “There is more than one snake in that exhibit. See if you can spot it.”
You looked at every angle, struggling to spot anything different. Then, a part of the sand moved and two gray eyes glared back at you.
“A Viper Halfling, right?” you said in awe, “Aren’t those venomous?”
“Ah, yes, well,” Mr. Crowley stuttered a little, “Don’t get bitten.”
You stared at him for a moment before it sunk in. All of these animals, except the birds, were extremely dangerous! And you were going to go into their enclosures to study and feed them? Were you insane?
You pushed down the panic and took a deep breath. This is what you signed up for. You probably already waived all your rights away anyway. You hadn’t looked at the fine print of your contracts, of course.
You noticed another tank on the other side of the room and walked up to it. You couldn’t see anything inside this one, but Mr. Crowley was quick to explain, “There’s a salamander in this one. A beautiful electric blue, but extremely shy.”
You peered inside, trying to catch a glance of blue, but you couldn’t see a thing.
“Lastly, the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley clapped his hands together, as though to bring you back to reality.
The aquarium was a huge glass tank where visitors could go down the stairs and see inside. The two of you walked by it, and saw very little signs of life.
“You’ll probably see the eel twins a bit. They’re a little shy at first, but Floyd is pretty playful. The octopus, on the other hand, rarely leaves his cave. He’ll venture out to eat, but that’s about it. We should have made that damn thing see-through, but it’s too late now.”
You were glad it was a normal cave, and not transparent like the glass. The Octopus Halfling probably felt safe inside it. It wouldn’t be fair to rob him of that simple pleasure.
“That’s the end of your tour, young lady,” Mr. Crowley said cheerfully, “You start bright and early tomorrow, have a long lunch break, then leave late at night. Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
He looked down at you with a hint of nervousness, as though he expected you to say “no”. But you were determined and excited to explore what your classes had trained you for. Real life application.
“I’m ready!”
Note: So, some of the animals are obvious, but I’m wondering what you all think the others are?
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Oh me gosh can you please do a Luke Castellan x reader fic where he’s just so head over heels for her but she’s so clueless and everyone keeps trying to get her to notice but she won’t and like they’re bests friends🤗🤗
tysm for ur request! if you don't mind I tweaked it a bit so its annabeth and percy trying to set up Luke and reader! hope you enjoy!
KISS THE GIRL
word count: 2000
pairing: Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader
warnings: none!
a/n: Even though this is a daughter of poseidon fic, its not part of my future au! for Luke.
MASTERLIST
Percy and Annabeth were standing at the edge of the amphitheatre, talking about something mindless when they spotted you and Luke walking towards the entrance, seeming deeping engaged in conversation.
Annabeth watched as you laughed at something Luke said and a light blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Could he get any more obvious?
“Oi, Perce,” She whispered, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, nudging him to look in the direction of the pair of you.
“Yeah, I see my sister with Luke, what about it-” It appeared the realisation finally struck him, “Oh my god, are they-?”
“I don’t know. He’s definitely into her, I know that.” Annabeth mused, inspecting the pair as they grabbed two wooden swords and began sparring together, laughing as they repeatedly dodged and side-stepped the other.
“He told you that?” Percy asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.
“Well, no. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”
Annabeth then gasped in realisation, startling Percy slightly before he realised it was just another one of her epiphanies.
“We should get them together!”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t that something you leave up to Aphrodite kids?” Percy asked hesitantly.
“Battle strategy and romantic strategy aren’t all that different.” She shrugged, before dragging him off to draw up new ‘romantic’ battle plans with her.
STAGE 1: CONFRONT LUKE
Annabeth’s strategy wasn’t all that complicated, and she was pretty certain the most difficult part would be getting Luke to admit his feelings. But, as it turns out, he cracked pretty quickly.
“Alright, you got me.” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender, “I do like her, but can you blame me? I mean, she’s so smart, and beautiful, and kind, and-”
“That’s enough lover boy. Cool it.” Percy said, cutting him off with a groan. As much as he had given Annabeth his blessing to go along with this crazy plan, he still didn’t want to hear Luke gushing about how hot his sister is.
“Sorry man.” Luke chuckled awkwardly, before the pair of boys turned back to Annabeth to lead the conversation.
“So, now that you’ve admitted it, we need to start brainstorming how we’re gonna get you guys together.” She said, clapping her hands together and producing a roll of paper, with a long list of ideas that she promptly began to read out.
The list ranged from pretty normal things like ‘take her out on a picnic’ to insane stuff like ‘bring her a monster's head as a gift’. Luke wasn’t so sure you would be a fan of that one, but he had to admit all the other items were pretty good ideas.
“So what do you suggest, Annie? Work our way down the list?” Luke asked, and his little sister nodded, before outlining which ones she thought would be best.
“We should start small, you don’t wanna freak her out,” She consulted the list again, thinking to herself, “Ah, here we go, ‘Give her a compliment’.”
“Ok, I think I can do that.” Luke grinned, his head immediately flooded with things that he loved about you.
“Just don’t make it weird, or I’ll revoke my blessing.” Percy grumbled, his arms crossed as Luke laughed sheepishly again.
“Will do.”
STAGE 2: START SMALL
The next week mostly consisted of Annabeth and Percy spying on you and Luke at any possible moment.
The first of his tasks, to give you a compliment seemed to go well. The pair of preteens watched on from their spot behind a tree as the pair of you separated to go to dinner, and Luke complimented your hair. You blushed slightly, and smiled widely, before rushing off to your own table in the dining pavilion.
Luke quickly whipped around to look at Percy and Annabeth who gave him enthusiastic thumbs ups.
His next task was to give you a small gift, and he decided that it should take the form of the matching charm bracelets he made with the younger kids. Annabeth and Percy sat with him as he deliberated over specific colours and shapes of bead, until they were nearly sick of his equivocation.
But, as much as watching him make it was downright annoying, Percy had to admit the way you both wore your charm bracelets everyday afterwards was pretty cute.
The final task of the week was to bring you flowers, and that whole day Luke could be seen wading through fields of wildflowers looking for the perfect ones to add to his bouquet. This was then snuck onto your nightstand later that night by Percy, who over the course of the week had become very invested in your blossoming relationship, a fact he would deny to the ends of the earth.
STAGE 3: ESCALATE
“Alright Luke, time to bring out the big guns.” Annabeth announced, before clearing her throat and reading the list of tasks for the week.
‘Sit at her table during dinner’
‘At least one compliment a day’
‘One instance of arm-around-the-waist contact’
This was the point at which the Hermes boy began to get slightly nervous. The other stuff before could be pretty easily written off as friendly, but sitting at someone's table at dinner? Only couples did that.
“Are you sure that’s not moving too fast, I mean-”
“Luke Castellan, don’t be so damn pathetic! Grow some balls, before someone else steals your girl!” Annabeth exclaimed, whacking him over the head with the list.
He nodded, “Yes Ma’am.”
From then on, he was pretty much unwavering in his determination. He sat at your table every mealtime, slinging an arm around your shoulder, or your waist. Anytime you came up with a capture the flag strategy, he’d praise you intelligence, anytime he saw you, he greeted you with a ‘Morning beautiful’ or a ‘Hey sweetheart’.
Annabeth and Percy were shocked with his sudden progress, but pretty impressed with the way it was going. At this point, the pair of you were practically dating.
The only minor setback came in the form of your complete and utter cluelessness.
Percy had decided to test the waters with you, and gently float the idea of you getting together with Luke.
“You’ve been spending loads of time with Luke at the moment.” He remarked casually as you both walked back to cabin 3.
“You’ve just noticed I spend time with my best friend? Well done kid.” You laughed, ruffling his curly blonde hair.
“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of your grasp.
“Then what did you mean?” You asked, hands on your hips, a confused expression on your face.
“I meant like, you guys being ‘involved’.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound as nonchalant as possible while looking out for your every reaction. He was unreasonably invested at this point, but oh well.
“What?!” You exclaimed, your voice suddenly going higher pitched, “Nah, no chance! Luke would never.”
Percy had to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. It would’ve made sense if you denied having feelings for him, but to be so oblivious of how whipped that boy was for you? He thought you were smart.
“Yeah, sure. I guess so.” He shrugged once again, before swiftly changing the subject.
STAGE 4: KISS THE GIRL!!
“Guys, we have a problem.” Percy said, bursting in on Luke and Annabeth’s conversation the next morning.
“What?” The pair asked in sync, concerned expressions on their faces.
“Y/N is an idiot.”
“Woah, don’t say that about her-” Luke began, desperate to defend your honour, but was cut off by Annabeth’s harsh glare.
“What do you mean, Perce?” She asked, her tone level.
“Luke, man, she has no clue you like her. Like she is convinced it’s impossible.” Percy explained, and Annabeth’s expression also grew confused.
“Gods, she really is dumb.” She sighed, ignoring Luke’s chiding at insulting you, “We’re gonna have to really turn it up a notch. Luke, it’s time to really bring out the big guns.”
For the next few days, Luke, Annabeth and Percy spent most of their time rushing around preparing for Annabeth’s so-called ‘masterstroke’.
And then, after much hard work from the trio, it was ready, and Luke was whisking you away from the campfire to the surprise he had prepared for you.
“Luke, where are we going?!” You laughed as he dragged you along by the wrist, a piece of cloth tied around your head to block your vision.
“You’ll see.” He chuckled, gently directing you around a tree root as he led you deeper into the forest.
“I swear, if you’re kidnapping me I am not going to be happy.” You teased that infectious smile he loved so much covering your face.
“No, no kidnapping tonight.”
You continued to joke around together as he led you towards his destination, until eventually you came to a halt, and he was untying the cloth around your face.
You gasped in delight as you saw you were by the pier, and in front of you was a picnic blanket set up with all of your favourite food and drink.
Immediately you grabbed him by the arm and led him to the blanket, thanking him all the way and gushing about how sweet and amazing he was. Meanwhile, Luke was trying not to pass out from the barrage of affection you were giving him.
The pair of you quickly tucked into the meal, laughing and joking. But all the while, Luke was preparing his confession, and trying not to let his palms get too sweaty.
Eventually, he decided it was time, and he made his move.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?” You looked up at him with shining eyes, and he had to remind himself to breathe.
“I’m in-” His love confession was cut off by the sudden boom of fireworks above you both, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to organise a signal with Annabeth to start them. She really did have bad timing sometimes.
“Oh my gods! Fireworks!” You exclaimed, nudging Luke to take a closer look, pointing out which ones were your favourites, and clearly any speculation about what Luke was going to say had escaped your mind.
Eventually the display was over, and you turned to him yet again, gushing about how lucky they were that fireworks were out tonight. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone usually so smart could be so clueless?
“I organised the fireworks, Y/N.” He said, softly, placing his calloused hand over yours.
“What, really?!” You blinked owlishly at him for a moment before furrowing your brows and asking, “Wait, how come?”
Luke couldn’t contain his chuckle.
“Isn’t it obvious by now? I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hint at it for weeks, but clearly I wasn’t being obvious enough.”
“What? Why?” You stammered, shock coating your face entirely.
“Why am I in love with you?” He asked as if it was a stupid question, which to him it was, because he could list a million things that he loved about you.
“Because you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind, and generous, and every time I see you I can’t help but smile because you're my best friend and I love you more than anything.” He rambled, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his cargos.
“Now I’d really appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery and reject me.” He said sheepishly, itching the back of his neck.
But, of course, the rejection never came. Instead you were rushing forwards to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, slowly and deeply.
And, about ten metres away, Annabeth and Percy could be seen high-fiving behind a tree, before skipping back to the campfire in glee.
#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan#fluff#x reader#pjo#writing#fanfic#ask#clueless#reader is so silly#trace amounts of percabeth#percabeth crumbs
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five minutes | c.sc
- he has never seen such a picturesque sight draped in morning light
oneshot | 1.3k | domestic!au | fluff
if choi seungcheol could choose one memory to keep after death, it would be the ones like this. the ones where he rises slightly early and gets to watch as you wake up to the world. for him it’s the little things: sunshine falling atop his sheets, your limbs intertwined, the pout in your voice begging him to come back to bed. though seungcheol knows for a fact, he would always hit snooze if it meant five more minutes with you.
~ pairing . choi seungcheol x gn!reader
~ content . non idol!au, early mornings with choi seungcheol, oddly sentimental moments lmaoo, fluffiest of domestic fluff, brief banter
~ tw/cw . one slightly suggestive allusion to hickeys but apart from that none at all!
~ song rec . come to me - seventeen
~ author’s note . here’s the surprise i was talking about! apologies for being so inactive, life just had to take priority for once. but i had some free time so i wrote this as a little writing exercise. also i just imagine seungcheol to be the best to wake up to lmaoo. sorry for once again proving i don’t know how to write anything that isn’t pure unfiltered yearning 😭 hope you guys enjoy anyways!
FOR ONCE, IT IS NOT THE DRONING SOUND OF AN ALARM THAT WAKES HIM
but instead the light of the morning - rousing him with its golden-honey rays. Slithers of sunlight burn against his droopy eyelids and he curses himself for forgetting to close his curtains in the evening. He wonders what the time is. With the advent of summer, guessing the time has been harder than a blinded game of Russian roulette. It could be anywhere between 5:30 (he could afford to sleep for a couple more hours) or 11:25 (he might as well not bother showing up to work).
Seungcheol rolls onto his back and cradles his skull with his palm. He drifts his eyes up towards the cream-coloured ceiling, feeling an inexplicable lightness in his chest as it rises with his every breath: ocean waves at high tide. Even though the future stresses of the working day loom at the forefront of his mind, they aren’t tormenting him like they usually do. He isn’t dreading the ring of the alarm. There’s something in his mind and soul that’s scarily at peace, a calmness he only thought he would feel in his dying hours. A sharp snore cuts his train of thought short. Feeling the warmth pressing taut against his side, he realises what the feather-weight feeling in his chest was for.
He flips over to look at you, out like a candlelight. Seungcheol swears he has never seen such a picturesque sight draped in morning light. No painting in a museum could ever come close to this sight of you. Your legs are curled into your torso and hands loosely gripping the sheets. Seungcheol’s eyes are drawn immediately towards your lips, your pillow-soft sighs drift onto the pillow where a tiny pool of salvia is. A thin sheen of sweat, illuminated by golden rays, wraps around your body like a second skin, causing you to glisten like the sun during dawnbreak.
In this moment, you are so peaceful, so calm, so vulnerable. You’re like a god to him, a statue chiselled painstakingly out of marble. Seungcheol has to hold himself back from caressing your puffy cheeks, terrified he’d wake you. You’ve been working long hours recently and today’s your only day of rest. Apart from that, something about watching you catch up on some well-deserved rest burns his heart white-hot with passion.
‘I must have been a saint in my last life to deserve this,’ Seungcheol thinks. As clearly and effortlessly as the chime of a bell of a small bookstore, you entered his life, taking him by surprise. You were like a whirlwind and Seungcheol was enraptured in the eye of your storm. Each day he was falling deeper and deeper, closer and closer to the point of no return. The way your smile and sense of humour makes him float above the clouds, almost as if is high on your presence. If he is, then you’re his favourite drug, that itch that you can never scratch enough, that song that no matter what he does cannot get out of his head.
He thinks about how much he loves you. How much he longs for you when you are not near - how much he wants to worship you until marks, the same colour as pink lemonade, pepper your chest. It almost brings him to tears: the intensity of his feelings in contrast to the softness of the morning light. You’re the most beautiful person to him - mind, body and soul.
Right now, Seungcheol feels content, not in the way you do when finishing a task or lying down with a stomach full of your favourite food. This is different. A contentedness he knows he may never be able to feel again, but the moment is so perfect that he doesn’t need to feel this way again. This morning is already more than enough.
RING-RING
Seungcheol rolls his eyes as the sound of his alarm vibrates deep through his ears. He checks the time. Fuck. He only has 35 minutes to get ready (he could have sworn he set it for earlier). He tries his best to move cautiously, trying not to wake you. But as he sees your body start to shift, he knows his attempts are in vain.
“Sorry sleepyhead,” Seungcheol coos his voice so sweet that it almost fully distracts you from the alarm's monotonous cries. You reply with a quiet 'morning' but you’re not sure if he hears: the sound being muffled by the sheets. He traces mindless patterns across your exposed skin. His fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You squirm slightly at the ticklish feeling, trying to curl away from his touch. Seungcheol can only laugh.
“What?” He knows he’s teasing, the grin on his face ever-wide.
“Shut up…” You turn your body to face him as he sits up, a yawn escaping from the depths of his chest. “How long have you been awake for?”
“A while.” He stretches over your body to hit snooze and you hear the light crackling of his bones as he moves.
“So you’ve just been watching me drool in my sleep this entire time, weirdo.” You say mimicking his previous teasing tone. Seungcheol rolls his eyes but still helps you rub off a small string of dried salvia sitting on the corner of your lip.
“Maybe, maybe not. Though, you are a wonderful sight to behold in the morning.”
“You’re mad.”
“Madly in love with you.” You snort at his words and playfully smack his bare chest as whiny ‘it’s true’s' fall from his pink coral lips. He smiles so wide, that you catch a glimpse of it through the blinding sunlight - a look at his sweet gummy smile. So wide that you can’t help but smile as well.
If Seungcheol were to describe his personality in one word, it would be a realist, maybe a cynic at times. But when it comes to you, he’s a dreamer. You’re the painter who colours over his grey corporate days, the person that keeps him going when his 9–5 starts to feel like a 24-hour shift and it’s your smile he thinks of at the neon red stoplight when he’s racing back home (he hopes you feel the same). He realises that he would do anything for you and it doesn’t anger him in the slightest.
“After you’re off from work, we should do something. Take advantage of the good weather and longer days.” You muse, still looking up at him. With the way tiredness pulls at your eyes you resemble a baby deer. Seungcheol doesn’t even let you finish your sentence before he’s humming in agreement.
“That would be lovely. Hmm, a walk around the city seems nice, there’s this pop-up museum that I think you’d like. We could also-“
RING-RING
You both groan at the cursed sound. Reluctantly, Seungcheol attempts to rub whatever remnants of sleep are left in his eyes (it doesn’t work, he feels more tired afterwards). With a chaste kiss on your forehead, he tries to free himself from the hold of the duvet and many blankets intertwined with his limbs. If he eats breakfast quickly, he may be able to get to work on time. However, as his legs hang over the side of the bed, Seungcheol feels a vice-like grip tighten around his wrist.
“Don’t go.” Your voice sounds so tired yet commanding, as if you were a witch, forcing him into a trance.
“But lovely, work-“
“If you can shower quickly, you can spare five more minutes with me.” You whine. To Seungcheol, there is no point trying to fight it, you’ve already won.
“I suppose I could."
The light giggle that escapes your mouth seals the deal as you drag him back down to drown in the sheets. He throws an arm around your middle and pulls you impossibly closer. Seungcheol knows his alarm is going to go off again in the next five minutes, but as you melt into his embrace like candle wax and press kisses along the base of his neck, he couldn’t care less about hitting snooze again.
For you, he could spare five more minutes.
For you, he would do anything.
#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen drabble#svt oneshot#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt fanfic#scoups oneshot#scoups fluff#scoups fanfic#scoups drabble#scoups x reader#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol drabble#if ur reading this i hopr u have an amazing day/night 💛
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“CRUSHED” RAIDEN X COMEDIC RELIEF FEM!READER
SUMMARY : You had a crush on Raiden and it was painfully obvious to everyone except him
WARNINGS : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. smut, p in v, praise kink, body worship, some other things I probably forgot
MASTERLIST
Raiden never noticed your crush for some reason. One time Raiden had just got done with his training. He was shirtless and drinking a bottle of water. He saw you were standing right next to him. He was a bit startled as he saw you practically came out of nowhere but he smiled at you none the less. “Hello, (Y/N).”
“Hello my future husband.” You said a little quietly.
Raiden didn’t hear you. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said ‘hey Raiden’.” Your eyes darted to his chest and god did it look like the Elder Gods sculpted him out beautifully.
Raiden didn’t notice your staring. He downed the rest of his water before carefully placing it in the trash. “What have you been up to?”
You shrugged. “Oh you know. Just hanging around…” You had pulled out a rag as if you were a magician and made it appear out of thin air. “I should probably get the sweat off your chest.”
Raiden was about to say something but your hands immediately met his chest and you started to damp at it with the rag. He smiled at you, not minding you at all. “I think sweat is suppose to be right there, (Y/N).”
“Well, you know…accidents and all.”
Raiden probably was either naive or completely stupid to not see you had the biggest crush on him. To him though, he just couldn’t believe that a pretty girl like yourself would even have a thing for him so he pushed the thought of it away.
Another time Raiden should’ve put the puzzle pieces together was when you were in your room and your neck was hurting. Raiden knocked on your door. “Come in.”
Raiden walked in and closed the door. “You weren’t at training, (Y/N) so I just wanted to check on you.”
You sighed at the tension in your neck. “Yeah I know. My neck and shoulders are killing me.”
Raiden stepped a bit closer to you. “May I?” You shrugged. It already hurt bad, what was the worse that could happen?
He got behind you and started to gently rubbed your neck and shoulders. It was with slow but harsh movements that was releasing your tension. You moaned some, feeling some of the pain be gone. “God that feels amazing.”
“Is everything alright? You’re really tensed.”
The truth was your crush on Raiden was actually physically stressing you out but you obviously couldn’t tell him. “Nothing. Me and Johnny were having a dance battle. Must’ve pulled a muscle or something.”
Raiden continued to rub your neck and shoulders. “Tell him if he makes you pull a muscle again I’ll beat him like I did last time.”
You giggled at his caring nature towards you. “Now that you mention it, my back hurts a little.” You lied. You just wanted to feel his hands on you.
Raiden smiled to you though. He didn’t catch the lie. “Lay down on your stomach and I’ll get your back too.”
Another time was when you all would have dinner, you’d constantly make an excuse to sit on his lap. “Oh, would you look at that? No chairs here.”
Kung Lao looked up to you, giving you a look. “There’s one right there.”
You immediately threw the chair back and with your strength, you broke it. “Oh my god. I guess I just don’t know my own strength.” You sat down in Raiden’s lap. “Guess I’ll just sit here then.” This caused the others to shake their head at Raiden’s stupidity as he still did not get it.
Raiden never minded. He actually liked that you did because now you would baby him and cut up his food before feeding it to him.
He wrapped his arm around you and watched you cut through a piece of his food before feeding it to him with a fork.
Raiden would do the same for you. He cut up some food himself and fed it to you with the same fork.
“You two make me sick.” Johnny told you two.
The last time Raiden should’ve obviously noticed is when the group was chatting among themselves and you came up with a box of cookies.
You handed them to Raiden, smiling big as you had been the one to make them. “These are for you, Raiden. I made them myself.”
Raiden smiled, taking the box full cookies. “Thank you, (Y/N). What’s the occasion?”
“My undying love for you.” Everybody but Raiden heard you say that.
“What was that?” Raiden asked as he did not hear you.
You laughed it off. “Oh just because you’ve done such a good job at training.” You watched as Johnny tried to reach in for a cookie. “Back off, Cage!”
“Ow!” Johnny held his hand that you swatted.
Raiden picked up a cookie and took a bite. They were chocolate chip. They practically melted in his mouth. “These are really good.” Raiden bent down to your level and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you again, (Y/N).”
He walked away from you. You were smiling as big as the sun. Everyone turned to see your reaction. “I’m never washing my face again.”
They all shook their head. “There’s no way Raiden is that clueless right?” Kenshi asked.
“I’m afraid he is that clueless.” Kung Lao said.
But Raiden didn’t find out any of those ways. No, not all. You had accidentally left your diary in the library and him thinking it was a regular book, he picked it up, about to read it.
That’s when he saw it. All the pages where you talked about how much you liked him. But wait - it only gets worse.
Raiden also saw the sexual fantasies you had about him and how badly you had wished he would make you his.
He felt bad for reading it but also felt good. Because Raiden had a secret. He had a crush on you too.
He closed the book up and immediately went to your room. He knocked on the door.
You opened the door and looked to see Raiden. “Hi Raiden!” When you realized you sounded a bit too excited, you cleared your throat and leaned on the wall. “I mean…what’s up Raiden.”
It was like everything you did, Raiden finally understood. How could he be so clueless? Foolish even. Were you always that obvious? “I found this in the library.” He handed you your diary.
“Cool. Thanks.” You took the diary and then the realization hit you. “Wait.” You threw the diary across the room. “How did you know it was my diary?”
Guilt sprang on Raiden. He scratched the back of his neck before replying. “I didn’t mean to but I read it.”
Your heart sank. It was like a million bombs were strapped on your chest and you waited to be exploded. Gone forever. “That’s crazy. Because that’s not even my diary. I’m holding it for a friend.”
Raiden thought it would be just best to confront it now also considering he needed to get his own feelings off his chest too. “I know you have feelings for me, (Y/N).”
You tried to play it off. “Pfft. Whaaaat? Me? Have feelings for you? That’s crazy talk. I mean sure you are incredibly handsome, perfect boyfriend material, good with your hands, kind, caring-is kind and caring the same thing? Sweet, have really nice abs, cute in your hat you always wear, a work of art to look at-“
Raiden always thought your rambling was cute but this time he didn’t want to hear it. He pulled you by the waist with his right hand and with his left hand, he cupped the back of your neck and kissed you.
You stood there a little bit in shock but you kissed him back. You were kind of afraid to touch him and he picked up on that.
Raiden gently pushed you more into your room and he shut the door behind him. Your hands then now instinctively wrapped around his neck.
He kissed you like he himself had loved you since he met you. He was honestly glad you had feelings for him because now he could be with you.
He kept kissing you full of hunger. “Jump.” He said in your mouth.
You listened to him and Raiden caught you by your thighs. He made your legs wrap around his waist and he laid you on the bed.
You could not believe this was happening. Raiden was actually making out with you. You felt like you were dreaming. None of this was real right?
Raiden pulled away from the kiss and began to kiss and suck on your neck. You moaned some. Your hands went into his hair and you knocked the hat off his head.
“I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away.” Raiden said, pulling away from you.
“Oh no. You’re fine.” You said, gazing into his eyes.
Raiden noticed the loving stare you gave him and he felt like a fool again for not realizing sooner. “I came here to tell you I have feelings for you too. And I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend.”
“Yes!” You practically shouted but then you realized you were overly excited so you cleared your throat. “I mean yeah, that’s cool. Whatever.”
Raiden chuckled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Good.”
“You know what would really solidify this relationship?”
“What is that?”
“If you kept kissing me.”
Raiden smiled at you. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and he remembered what you wrote in your diary. “I got a better idea.”
You were a little confused. Raiden took off your pants and your underwear. You were about to ask him what he was doing but he wasted no time. He got in between your legs and started to eat you out.
You gasped at his tongue now colliding with your clit. “Oh my gods.” Raiden held your thighs tightly as he ate you out. “Yeah, that’s a better idea.”
Raiden licked your folds and sucked all of your juice. He cursed at himself for not doing sooner. You tasted better than good to him.
Your hands tugged on his hair a little as he ate you out. You started to move on his tongue a little to try and get some friction.
Raiden picked up on it and placed his tongue exactly where your clit was as you moved back and forth. You moaned loudly.
He sucked on your clit gently and you almost lost it there. You didn’t want this anymore. You wanted him.“Raiden. Please.”
Raiden picked up his head. He used two of his fingers to pump in and out of your pussy before looking at you. “Yes, love?”
The nickname gave you butterflies. “I want you. Really bad.”
Raiden knew what you meant by this. He bit his lip. “Are you sure? I don’t have a problem with going down on you.”
“Please. Don’t make me beg more.”
Raiden stopped pumping his fingers in you. He licked the juices off his fingers and he started to unbutton his pants.
You helped him take his pants off. He took his shirt off. Then his underwear. You went a little wide eyed by his size. “You are so big.” You blurted out.
Raiden should be used to your bluntness but he wasn’t. He blushed a little and nervously chuckled. He pulled you down some so he could align himself with you. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” You nodded eagerly and he entered you.
The both of you moaned at the the new contact. You felt so right on his dick that Raiden did not ever feel like pulling out.
He waited for you to adjust correctly before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. He then started to move in and out of you at a steady pace.
You moaned. Raiden rubbed on your stomach soothingly as he gave you slow and sensual strokes. He wanted to feel all of you.
You always thought that you were more so the rough and fast girl but there was something about Raiden going so slow that it felt so intense and intimate than it already was.
Raiden went a little bit faster but kept the intimate tone to it. He groaned some. Your pussy clenching on him was the best thing in the world to him. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You moaned at his words. Raiden kissed you again softly before speaking again. “You feel so good. I don’t want to ever stop.”
You moaned at his words. “Raiden stop. You’re going to make me cum so fast.”
Raiden couldn’t help but praise you and worship your body. He went a little bit faster into you making you moan out loudly. “You sound so amazing.” Raiden grunted some. “I finally have you all to myself.”
“Raiden. Oh my gods.” He kept at his pace. Your hands felt all over his chest. “You look so good.” You complimented him.
Raiden smiled at your praise and he leaned down to kiss you. “You look better.” Raiden moaned more as he fucked you into the bed.
He was hitting your good spot. “Yes. Right there. Please. Please. Don’t stop.”
Raiden picked up your thighs and wrapped them around his waist so he could hit it at a better angle. He then started to pound into you. “Right here, love?”
“Yes, yes, yes. You make me so good.”
Raiden grunted at your words. He felt himself inching closer to his release. “You’re so pretty.”
All of Raiden’s praises made you tear up and you didn’t understand why. He was just so kind to you during sex you couldn’t believe it even though it was in his nature.
He noticed it and kissed your tears away. “Why are you crying, gorgeous?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It’s true. I can’t help myself.” Raiden slowed down his pace and brought himself a little closer to you. He started to fuck into you slow but hard. He once again was hitting your spot so good but this time you couldn’t even form words anymore and threw your head back in pleasure. He made you look at him in the eyes. “Don’t turn away from me now.”
He was hitting it so good that you couldn’t even speak. You just moaned in quick gasps as he fucked you. “I’m almost there.” He told you. “Only you can do this to me. You’re too beautiful.” You still couldn’t even form words so he started to fuck you even harder. “Say it. Say you’re beautiful.”
“Oh my gods. I’m beautiful. Raiden I’m close.”
“Ah-where do you want it at?”
“Inside. Please. I need you.”
Raiden thought he needed you more. He gave you a sloppy but passionate kiss. You moaned into the kiss, about to come undone. “Baby, I’m cumming. I’m cumming please.”
He grunted at your cries and came after. “(Y/N), yes. Oh my gods yes.”
The two of you rode your orgasms out. When you were done, he leaned down to kiss you and you kissed him back. “Do you want me to start a bath for you?”
You smiled, nodding. “Yes. Please.” He gave you one final peck on the lips before getting up. He put his boxers on and went to the bathroom that was connected to your room.
Your diary was next to your side of the bed on the floor. You quickly picked it up and grabbed the pen that was on your desk.
‘Raiden is so good at sex. He knows where to kiss me in all the right places and-‘
You stopped writing when you felt someone snatch the diary away from you. You saw it was Raiden. “Hey, stop!”
“What are writing? Is it about me?” He teased a little.
“Stop it!”
“Raiden is so good at sex. He-“ He tried to read out but it turned into a wrestling match for the diary.
Well at least you finally got Raiden.
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x reader#liu kang#mortal kombat 1#kitana#kung lao#mileena#raiden#johnny cage#mk#kenshi takahashi#mk 1 x reader#mk 1#raiden x reader#mk raiden#mk smut
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𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫・h.h.
— an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.
words・2.5k
pairing・ex-boyfriend!hyunjin x gn!reader
genres・angst, mutual pining, hurt w/no resolution, established (former) relationship, Airport Scene™
warnings・implied toxicity, strong language, Not a Happy Read
a/n・dear anon who asked where this went after i posted and deleted it a few months ago & dear other anon who requested mentioned hyune angst: this is for u, my loves
“I’m outside,” was how you were greeted over the phone earlier, in a tone so callous and cold that you barely recognized the speaker. Barely.
“Sorry, you’re what?”
“You have a flight today, right? I said I’d take you to the airport.”
One second, you were at a complete loss; the next, you thought you were going to erupt with how much you felt and how much you wanted to say, the weight of the situation hitting you with full force. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, had just materialized outside your home with no warning at the ass crack of dawn and suggested you get into a car alone with him for an hour.
As if that wasn’t the very last thing you wanted to do.
Briefly, you reflected on how you parted ways; you wouldn’t say the breakup was malicious, but it certainly wasn’t amicable, either. The longer your relationship went on, the more questions you raised—important and unavoidable considerations of your future together, none of which Hyunjin could give you substantial answers to. Whether it was because he couldn’t or because he simply didn’t care to try, you didn’t know. But the fact that you had to ask yourself that at all was enough for you to take a step back.
Distance morphed into passive aggression. That, in turn, precipitated constant conflict. The starlight that you saw in Hyunjin fizzled further with every biting word and slammed door. The resulting supernova was far from the beautiful spectacle you’d been promised in your astronomy textbooks.
Standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment was your fallen star in the flesh.
“Let me do this, Y/N."
You’d gone silent for what felt like whole minutes before Hyunjin spoke again.
"Please," he added. You perceived how the word weakened towards the end, some of the frost in his voice displaced by quiet exasperation.
It was these observations, plus the time displayed on the clock hanging above your bathroom door, that prompted you to take your luggage in hand and leave your apartment. You were going to miss your flight if you stood there, glowering silently, for any longer.
When you emerged into the frigid morning, you spotted Hyunjin’s silhouette immediately, and something inside you came undone, as though a knot had been doing itself over and over since you and him parted ways. Your eyes locked together, your gaze contemplative, his a little surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect you to accept his offer.
The first word that came to your mind was exhausted. You could tell that the shadows on his face weren’t just products of the lone streetlight above his head; he had his back curved in a slouch that made him look a few inches shorter than he was. You were reminded of a balloon with an indiscernible opening somewhere on its surface, gradually and inevitably deflating.
Much to your irritation, the second word to surface in your mind was beautiful. Hyunjin’s normally sharp features, from what you could see beneath his hood, were bare and smooth from fatigue; thick strands of dark hair, longer than you remembered, fell effortlessly over his forehead and his cheekbones; his figure somehow looked even broader, leaner when fitted in the loose material of a hoodie and sweatpants.
He was the spitting image of a man you used to know, who looked just like this whenever he wandered into your bedroom at the end of the day, whenever he wrapped you into his arms and littered kisses over your skin until sleep overcame the both of you like a warm, clear tide, whenever he greeted you with a smile that shone like the tropical sun the next morning.
You were standing in front of a ghost.
You broke eye contact first, averting your eyes to your luggage instead. Just in time to see and feel his hand brush against yours when he took your suitcases from you and loaded them into the trunk, all without saying a word.
Now, twenty minutes have passed since Hyunjin started driving, and forty remain before you reach the airport. The vehicle is deathly silent save for the drone of wheels against pavement and wind whistling against dusty windows. You haven’t looked at Hyunjin since you met him outside your place. Instead, your eyes are fixated on the lights of Seoul and the way they flicker out of sight one by one as you drive further away.
And you remember.
The different memories you have of this car blow through your mind like you’re skimming a flipbook. That time you burst into tears mid-drive and Hyunjin pulled over on the side of the highway, giving you his undivided attention as you ranted about the terrible day you’d had. That time you noticed a paparazzi van stationed around the corner and the two of you sank so low in your seats that you had to later unfold yourselves from beneath the glove compartments. The assorted dog-shaped air fresheners you bought for him, a new one hanging from the rear-view every month (except the one that resembled Kkami, which stuck around for almost a year). The caffeine-flavored kisses shared over the cupholders between the seats, one person tipping over the drinks precariously, the other moving to catch them with a soft huff of laughter. The extra hoodie he kept in his backseat for if you ever accidentally underdressed when you went out together. The playlist you curated together, always playing quietly in the background.
You never gave this car a second thought when you and Hyunjin were together, but it is only now that you realize the place felt a little like an extension of home, of him.
The silence becomes fucking excruciating.
You are not sure if Hyunjin is interested in speaking to you. You’re less sure if you even have anything to say to him. But you open your mouth anyway.
“Thank you,” you say, hardly audible. “For doing this.”
A pregnant pause follows. Hyunjin probably wasn’t expecting you to start a conversation—neither were you, to be fair.
Little do you know that he has been trying and failing to string together a sentence since the moment he started the engine, and hearing your voice feels like clouds parting on a foggy day, a singular ray of sunshine settling on his cheek.
“It’s no trouble,” he returns. He’s quiet for a while after this, and you’re beginning to think the conversation is already over when he clears his throat.
“How are you feeling? About the trip, I mean.”
“Good. I think it’ll be nice to get away from Seoul for some time.”
Your choice of answer is intentional, and you can tell by Hyunjin’s lack of immediate response that he picks up on this.
“And you?” You return. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine, thanks. The members and I went to the states a few days ago, finished up album promotions there.”
“Oh, right.” He’d told you about this; they’d been in Japan prior, if you remember correctly. “And everything went well?”
“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”
“When did you get back?”
You don’t expect him to hesitate at such a simple question, but he does.
“Few hours ago,” he mumbles.
This takes you a few seconds to process. And then, so surprised at his answer that you can no longer help yourself, you finally lift your gaze to the side of Hyunjin’s face.
Your eyes comb over the fluorescent lights of the highway illuminating the slope of his nose; the weariness clouding his irises; his teeth latched gently around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying another word.
Hyunjin turns his head to look at you, too, only for a few seconds and more out of anxiety than anything. But you have long mastered the art of reading the fine print of his facial expressions, and that brief interval is enough for you to catch what hadn’t been there the last time you’d looked him in the eye: the true reason why he’d hardly set his bags down on the dormitory floor before he was leaving again, piling into a car and going to you; the same entity that you know is etched all over your face, too.
Yearning.
He is the one who looks away first this time, with a soft snap of his head like he has to force himself to do it—but the damage has already been done.
“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath, and you mean it in every sense of the word.
And it’s so unexpected (and so damn true) that it wrests a laugh from Hyunjin’s lips, the sound every bit as light as it is dark. The bittersweet smile that it leaves behind on his face mirrors helplessly onto your own.
You don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the drive.
The sun has risen by the time Hyunjin pulls up to the curb of the international terminal, but there’s hardly anybody around at this time of day, so he doesn’t mask up before stepping out of the car. He places your suitcases in front of you, then holds up a finger as a silent gesture of wait right there—and he dashes up the curb, beelines towards the line of trolleys, and pulls one over.
You feel a helpless warmth in your fingertips as you haul your suitcases onto the metal platform together. Even now, he’s taking care of you, as thoughtlessly and naturally as respiring.
“Is that everything?”
“I think so.”
And the two of you find yourselves two feet apart and facing each other, examining your counterparts as if the answer of what the fuck to say now lies in the curves of their cheeks, in the purse of their lips.
But all you obtain from looking at Hyunjin is a glimpse of that wicked entity again, yearning, now in the form of eyes softened by the sunrise and lips parted by forbidden words, sitting readily on the tip of his tongue.
You feel a deep, hollow sadness within you, derived from knowing and hating that no amount of yearning will change the reality that he’s not yours anymore.
“Have a great trip,” Hyunjin says at last. “Be safe, okay?”
“I will,” you answer. “Thank you again. Get some rest today.”
Your arms move to push your trolley, but not before they nearly twitch in his direction with how much you want to hug him goodbye. The last thing you see before turning around is his hand in the air, and then you enter the airport, wondering vaguely if you will ever see him again.
You're in a bit of a numb state as you check in your bags and step into the line for security. The last hour has left you feeling like your heart and mind have filled with static—the kind that shows up when there are too many television signals in the air, all of them unintelligible and amorphous.
But then there is a shout of your name behind you, so urgent that the familiar voice cracks over the last syllable, like bone breaking upon boulder. You turn around.
The white noise clears.
The soles of Hyunjin’s sneakers echo as he runs across the mostly-empty airport; his hood has been knocked down and his long hair set free, combed backward by the wind; there are other eyes on him, but he is only looking at you, something else burning in his gaze now, something certain and familiar.
You move your suitcases aside and extend your arms, your pulse racing with anticipation—just in time for him to positively crash into you. He very well could have hurt you with how quickly he’s moved toward you, but the very instant his skin meets yours, he’s gathering you so tightly and securely in his arms that he cushions his own fall, costing you only of the breath in your lungs.
And the two of you fuse together like a cosmic collision, imperfect but quintessential. The moon’s craters themselves.
He knots one hand in your hair and cradles the back of your neck with the other; you form fists around the fabric of his hoodie, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. And you feel the tears come at last: tears of relief, of regret, of remembrance.
There are a billion things Hyunjin wants to say to you then. He wants to thank you for loving him. He wants to blame you for loving him. He wants to tell you that it was all worth it for him, so long as he was once the reason that you smiled. He wants to convince you—and himself—that nothing was meant to last forever, that the two of you were destined to burn out, the same way even the biggest and brightest of heavenly bodies have shelf lives too.
But there is one train of thought that overshadows the rest. It rings louder and truer than anything he has ever known and emerges straight from the chambers of his heart.
“I—” He sounds shattered when he speaks, his voice muffled where his lips touch your skin, his words a rasp that is only audible to you. “I still—”
“I know,” you whisper, squeezing your watering eyes. “Me too.”
And you think the shaky “fuck” that leaves his lips is an apt summary of the absolute mess that the two of you have found yourselves in: entirely and obtusely enamored with the person who has proven themselves to be incompatible with your love, time and time again.
You are only willing to pull away far enough from Hyunjin so that you can look at him, his cheeks now damp with saltwater and flushed with emotion, his dreary eyes swimming with adoration and sorrow. You cradle his face with both hands, and he drops his arms to circle around your waist. His fingers lace together against the small of your back.
“It’s gonna be okay,” you murmur. You wipe at his tears with your thumbs, touch your forehead to his. “We’re gonna be okay, Hyun.”
His reply is so sad and so small that your heart feels like it’s being carved out of your chest with a blunt pocket knife. “When?”
You don’t know the answer.
You don’t know the answer when you finally go through security, the final boarding call for your flight booming through the intercom, Hyunjin’s face buried in his shaking sleeves.
You don’t know the answer when you return to Seoul a few months later, and Hyunjin is not there to give you a lift this time.
You don’t know the answer when your birthday passes and you still receive texts from Hyunjin’s parents, wishing you well, reminding you to take care of yourself. Nor do you know the answer on the birthday after that, or the birthday after that, which is when the texts stop coming.
You won’t know the answer for a very long time—so much so that you spend years of your life doubting there’s an answer at all. But you find it one day when you least expect it, and it congeals in your mind like expired milk, numbs your mouth like the strongest of anesthetics.
You have your answer then, but you don’t want it.
You never have.
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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