#after all this it was radio silence - or so i thought
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— BRIGHTER PLACES. a Lee Felix fiction
Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader
TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst
WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out, reader is used by her boss, felix is the biggest sweetheart to exist
AUG'S NOTES. was intended to be posted much earlier than this but i’m still glad that, with life being so busy, i managed to finish it! this piece is only the start of many emotional pieces over the summer so stay tuned please! hopefully you enjoy 🫶🏼
SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.
or alternatively :
Eventually, the sun will shine again.
Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.
Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.
However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.
You just weren’t aware yet.
.
.
.
At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.
When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.
The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.
Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.
Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.
Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.
Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.
Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.
That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.
“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.
Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.
Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.
Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.
Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.
And the recoil stings.
“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.
She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.
Lee’s Baking Class.
Lee. The name sounds familiar.
Awkward. Everybody has their awkward moments, but you’re certain this one takes the cake.
The entirety of the class had fallen still, engulfed in a silence you can feel gathering in your chest, sending nausea building like bile in your throat.
His brown eyes merely blink, ignorant to your inner turmoil.
Lee Felix’s brown eyes, shining like muddy globes, seem to encapsulate every ounce of affection. Affection you once had for him, affection you refuse to unearth if it costs your life.
Perhaps that's the stem of the awkwardness—harbored feelings.
How awful.
Just your luck.
“Y/N?”
It even sounds worse falling from his lips. Sweet, just like he is, Felix is.
Felix has always been sweet, always inviting. Seems you accepted without realizing you were never invited to the party.
Staring like a deer caught in headlights, it takes the man clearing his throat for you to acknowledge your position.
“You can uh, find a seat if you’d like?”
‘You can shoot me if you’d like’ you think, very much grateful mind readers don’t exist.
Nodding profusely and scurrying to the nearest table out of the four aligned throughout the room, you find yourself paired with three elderly ladies who quarrel in rabid conversation about baking powder—though it doesn’t bother you, the frenzied chatter leaves leeway to think.
As memorable as the treehouse was, it was also memorable for.. Other reasons as well. One reason in particular being that it wasn’t always just you reading and daydreaming up there, but Lee Felix too.
Since primary school the two of you had been conjoined at the hip. Between friendly rivalries and the fact he was your neighbor, there wasn’t a two day period you weren’t together.
And with that, came a crush.
But it was different with Felix, different because just as you’d been conjoined to the hip as friends, this time, you were still conjoined, but he was your crush.
And it’s a whole lot easier playing off a crush when you aren’t with them 24/7.
Before you knew it, you had fallen head over heels in love. To a degree you realized you can’t, can’t do what you’ve always done, can’t pretend your feelings are nonexistent any longer.
So you fled.
The moment high school began, you located the furthest place available and begged your parents to let you attend. It wasn’t that you hated Felix, more than anything you hated yourself for falling in love–not that it could be helped.
No matter how illogical you deemed it, your heart would prove stronger. Maybe that was your epitome.
Your number one priority had been avoiding him thus far, and you thought you were doing a pretty decent job at it, using the excuse that high school offered better opportunities to mask your internal guilt, and staying on that side of the city when you graduated.
Nonetheless, it seems the effort was in vain, especially now that you’re facing him again.
No. You refuse to dwell on the past, not when you’ve made it this far.
In front of you sits all the necessary utensils. Measuring cups and spoons, coordinating bowls, and the ingredients included as well.
Thank goodness for that, you were scared you’d mess up and Felix would have to step in. Plus, the rules of this game came easy. Participate without contact and leave with a sweet treat in hand.
Except, you’re quick to understand those rules of the game may only apply in your case by the gaze boring into your back.
Great.
“I didn’t anticipate a young lady being so aggressive,” A voice to your right piques, surveying the furious manner in which you’re cracking an egg into the bowl.
Delivering a small smile and claiming you’re simply absorbed in your work, collective laughter sounds from the older women in response.
Taking a thirty minute break while the dough chills, you welcome conversation with anybody and everybody, attempting to evade the blond’s attempt at reaching out.
Way to be a jerk, Y/N.
But, in the end, avoidance is the right course of action.
You can’t afford love, you’re too broke already as a student.
During the times he isn’t circulating, you spare periodic glances, marveling at those charming features of his, still the same as when you were younger but slightly more mature, sharper. Effortlessly kissable raspberry-tinged lips purse when he explains things, helping the participants knead dough with ring-clad fingers. That one’s new: rings.
The third time, you were caught, panickedly looking away as if an accident.
“Y/N I–”
Speeding past while pretending to be occupied with checking the refrigerator holding your table’s donuts, his words become choked watching as you flee in the other direction, hand returning to his side where it extended to you.
You manage to survive the last few minutes unscathed, awaiting the sugary goodness lying just below your fingertips after hastily nodding to Felix in thanks and following the remainder of the class outside.
Success.
Or, whilst fetching your keys and finding where you had parked your car, so you thought.
Steam billows from your car's hood, refusing to even turn on while individuals alike grant you pitying simpers and continue on their exit.
Spoke too soon.
Even worse, your instructor, the man you thought you could run from after all, happens to walk out at that moment, witnessing your real-time destruction.
Not a success.
This was utter failure at the highest degree.
“So.. How’ve you been?”
“Fine.”
“How’s college?”
“Fine. ..And you?’
How you ended up in Lee Felix’s passenger seat is beyond you.
Well, not really. You just hate admitting you took the ride home he offered after your car broke down in the parking lot. In your defense, according to him, he already had to drop by the grocery store nearby.
It’s like an interrogation, your replies quick and unenthusiastic, his unwavering in enthusiasm, unyielding to the coldness you’re giving him.
Like you said, it wasn’t your intention hurting his feelings, nor being spiteful or brash. It was your coping mechanism.
This is how you got over him, or, how you’d like to say you got over him.
“Pretty busy, but I’m managing. How about you? I couldn’t get in contact, but I’m sure you got tons of offers, yeah?”
Seeing his face again didn’t help with the “getting over” part.
..Or the guilt at the “no contact” part either.
“Easy for you to say, you’re the successful one who got scouted by a culinary arts school.” The remark coming out spiteful, you scorn yourself.
That’s another thing. Lee Felix is totally out of your league.
He’ll always be number one, and you’ll always be second place. And not in an inferiority complex way, but in an honest way.
Felix chased his dreams to the end of the earth and got what he deserved out of it, and you thought you were doing the same, only to realize you were chasing him instead and leaving your own aspirations behind.
But that’s on you, not him, and you’ll likely spend the rest of your life wondering how you became so enamored in the first place.
Of course he wears that tear-worthy frown, periodically directing his attention to you while driving, face filled with overflowing concern.
How could anybody not fall in love with him?
“Y/N, you know that’s not true. I may have been scouted, but that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. We’ve all worked hard to get where we are now, you included.”
Curse how weak you are for him. Why should he reassure you? You’re the prick that left him after countless years together, why is he consoling you?
Easy. He’s Felix.
Before anything else, he’s loving. Felix is the embodiment of love in an individual. He’s self-sacrificing (a trait you swear Chan gave to him), caring, and the most unbearably adorable mother-hen.
And you’re not even close to getting over him.
Street names pass in a blur, leaving a lengthy silence to consume the drive. You distract yourself with a flickering traffic light in need of fixing, watching the man’s finger tap against the wheel to a song on the radio in your peripheral before he speaks again.
“..Do you still talk to Chris?”
His voice, a pleasing baritone now that he speaks slowly, surprises you for a moment.
“Yep.”
Even then you refuse to turn toward him, coming to a halt at a stop sign and simultaneously dreading the manner in which he dips his head lower.
“Hey.. Are you okay?”
You feel like throwing up.
“During the class you–”
“My stop is here.”
The words come out before you can comprehend them, too worried about distancing yourself to care that this is in fact not your stop and a random street instead.
Though hesitantly, he pulls the vehicle to the side.
“But there’s no houses nearby–”
“No, this is perfect,” You pitch, quickly unbuckling and opening up the door. “Thank you, Felix.”
Oh how you wish you never said that, wish you never made eye contact.
He makes you want to scream and cry and dig up all those stupid feeling’s you’d buried in the ground.
Pulling your clothing closer to your body as the evening cools, you grace him a ghost of a smile, shutting the car door and hurrying down the sidewalk while feebly attempting to locate how far your place would be from here.
Yet, he doesn’t drive past you.
Evidently unconvinced but failing to say it aloud, you fight off the warmth heating your face as his car rolls right beside you, following your hasty footsteps while walking.
“Are you sure this is your stop? It’s getting cold!” He shouts, leaning over from his seat to regard you.
This is it. When you had sworn your embarrassment couldn't get any more pathetic.
“I.. I’m fine! Just go!” You shout back, arms waving haphazardly like an embarrassed middle schooler until he finally (and begrudgingly) steers ahead of you, car disappearing in the distance.
At least that’s over.
And yet, it feels like it’s just the beginning. You simply can’t explain why.
However, your main focus remains upon getting to safety. Safety being home.
The word has never sounded this pleasing before now.
So after thirty minutes running in circles to find your complex, you’re granted that much wanted safety, snuggled up in your cushions and turning on a show with evident delight in the mismatched pair of pajama pants and a hole-scattered top hanging off your shoulder.
No more Felix thinking, it’s time to relax.
What a joy.
Well, before your bottomless Pringle’s can abruptly spawns a bottom, hand frantically scurrying in search for more to no avail.
This is the peak of your show! How could someone possibly imagine viewing the climax without coordinating snacks?
And just when you thought you had ultimately settled, you’re thrown into a torrential debate, one that, after much contemplation (and pacing) across the cold tile of your kitchen, sends you huffing and puffing to the nearest convenience store.
Slipping past the sliding doors toward the designated aisle, you had yet to realize who else was roaming around the store.
A peculiar blond being that someone else.
It’s when you turn the corner to check out that you practically ram into each other, fear striking every fiber of your being, his eyes equally wide, but more puzzled than terrified—unlike you.
“Besides, I need to run to the grocery store afterward.”
Crap.
Granted, the probability he lived nearby was likely.
He's not required to stay a 300 meter radius from you anyway, so getting anxious about this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply (hopefully not) say hi and be on your way.
Except, like most endeavors in your life so far, it is an issue.
Because one, you’ve positively blasted your chances of avoidance after the entire car experience (which, frankly, you genuinely debate death because of) and two, he’s.. apparently following you.
Wait, he’s following you?
He, as in: Lee Felix, who ultimately fails at being nonchalant. Walking a few paces behind you, eyes quite obviously trained on your figure.
After your frantic rush past him while darting through self-checkout, the footsteps behind you do little to quell your heart’s rapid pace, only worsening with each passing second.
You aimlessly ignore the sweat oiling your palms, pretending to be occupied with reading a label on your drink, hoping he’ll eventually look away.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he stays right on your tail, enough that while you break into a run through your door, he follows, jarring a foot in the door just as you begin slamming it shut.
Stalker, much?
Wielding the nearest weapon available in a panic, you’re frantic, whacking the unfortunate Pringle’s container with all your might toward the man.
“How.. How are you that fast– Ow! Ow ow- Wait- Y/N-”
Cowering down and covering his head with his arms while you furiously batter the man, it isn’t till a few specific words catch your attention that you stop.
“Your—“ Whack. “Car—“ Whack. “Was finished in the shop!”
Your what?
Hesitantly lowering his arms, Felix wears a sheepish smile, regarding your evidently frazzled, very much frantic appearance.
“For twenty minutes I’ve been trying to tell you.. your car is ready.. in the shop,” He breathes, doubling over with exhaustion.
Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from your own exhaustion. An exhaustion that urged the realization you just beat up your lifelong love interest with a box of Pringles.. who is now in your house.
Lee Felix. In your house.
What a joy.
“....I’m sorry about your head.”
“No, I shouldn’t have intruded like that.”
You cover your face with your hands, wishing nothing more than to melt into a puddle.
“Are you-” He tips his head down, that kindly confused expression of his no help to your pounding heart. “Are you alright?”
Through your wallowing, your ears burn, voice muffled whilst practically drowning in misery.
“Give me a minute, I’m so embarrassed right now.”
It doesn’t help that he laughs afterward. A low, vocal laugh that rumbles in his throat and does little for your mental health.
Placing the discarded can back on a nearby countertop, you jolt when his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently ushering your hands from your face.
“But I was serious about what I said. Y/N, are you okay?”
Oh how tender he refers to you. Careful, quiet. As if too high of a pitch and his voice will shatter the air. You don’t mind.
Because in all honesty, you haven’t been okay. Nothing has been okay. It feels like you’re working, but what for? You’ve lost the sense of purpose from when you graduated, slowly but surely watched your motivation diminish right before your eyes.
And you couldn’t do anything about it.
Chasing your tail in circles, round and around and around again has led you right to what you tried to run from in the first place.
Him; the truth.
And yet, unlike earlier today, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, to ask him to leave. You savor his touch, even if it only lingers on your wrists.
Save me, your skin cries against his grip.
Luckily, Felix joins you in your wavelength, giving you permission to indulge in the abyss of his eyes, fall into the warmth and comfort the past brought in the safety of his arms.
“Felix?” You verbalize, fragmented bits and pieces of life hidden within the words, muffled against the skin of his neck.
You missed Felix, but you’re starting to think you missed his hugs more.
“Yes?”
“I missed you.”
“Really? How much?”
You want to punch his gut, but you can’t will yourself to move.
“Too much.”
He chuckles, carefully pulling away.
“I have to head out, ‘got work early tomorrow. I can drop you off at the dealership when you’re free?”
Yes. This time, you can say yes.
Your feelings will never change from how they always were, especially when it comes to Felix. That’s something you have to accept.
Perhaps tomorrow you’ll get to see him again.
Or perhaps you’ll wake up in your bed in a few seconds and all of this will be a dream.
When he turns his back, you pinch yourself to make sure.
All real.
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
Right before he closes your door, you call out to him again.
“And Felix?”
“Mhm?”
“..Call me when you’re done with work. I’ll pick up this time so… tell me all about those seven years apart.”
At this, he nods—and it’s sort of bittersweet seeing him leave, because this time you know you’ll see him again.
And, though you try, your attempt at sleeping proves useless—caught up in your head after quickly settling in bed, deciding to save everything else for another day.
The ceiling serves as your main muse, eyes unblinking whilst staring upward.
What is Felix doing right now? Your attention flits, scowling to yourself at how much you sound like a clingy girlfriend.
Could you blame yourself though? You’re like a child waiting for Christmas presents. Except, this Christmas you’re unwrapping years upon years of time apart.
Fortunately, after a multitude of hours awake, sleep beckons. And as if a split second later, with the morning sun lighting up your room and stirring you awake do you receive a call.
You planned to ignore and roll over, but it’s a specific someone on your mind that urges you to fetch the device.
“Hello?”
“Hey, what’re you up to?”
“Getting away from you,” You groan, pretending not to hear Chris’s chiding that it isn’t healthy to sleep till noon.
And although you were gonna use last night’s experience as an excuse, you decided against it, hoping sooner or later he’d hang up without any more questions.
“Wait.”
Your silence serves as a sign to continue.
“If he’s sleeping next to you right now—”
“No! No Chris what- where did you hear— what?”
Unable to process how he knew about Felix or if he was talking about Felix in the first place, you leave it to the audibly disheveled man to explain himself.
“Look, I can explain. Sana told me she saw Felix go into your house last night, what was that about?”
Curse how Sana lives so close by.
“Well, for the record, Dad, he didn’t sleep over. We just uh, talked, like adults do.”
Chris exhales a baffled guffaw.
“Like adults do? Never thought I’d hear that from you.”
“I’m full of surprises, what can I say.”
An additional silence ensues, awkwardly tapping your finger on the mattress.
“We um.. we were catching up.”
The man on the other side of the line grins. You can practically see it through the phone.
“..When you said that, you sounded really happy just now.”
“Huh?”
“When you talked about Felix, you sounded really happy. That’s good.”
You study the ceiling a second time, feeling a small smile and tug at your lips.
“He’s good to keep around y’know.”
Rolling your eyes and adjusting your position to face the window, you stretch your arms over your head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You hear the ignition of his car in the distance.
“Whatever you want it to mean,” He chuckles. “I’m glad you got to see him though, I better contact him again now that you mention it, ‘need the Aussies to get together. Call you later?”
“Sure, bye Chris.”
Hanging up and collapsing onto your pillow, you yawn dramatically, gradually rising to your feet to open the blinds.
Then does it register to you this is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been in a while—especially talking to a Chris—and not intentionally either.
All of which comes down a single name, the one you were reminded to keep around.
Lee Felix.
Picking up your phone, you make another call.
You
I’m on the way
Felix
(Felix liked your message)
I’ll be there as fast as I can!! Sorry, ran out of flour last night 😔
You
It’s all good, what’re you baking?
Felix
Banana cake, want a slice?
You
Yes please!
Redirecting your attention back to the road, you’re careful not to miss the exit this time (as you’ve done endless times in the past).
Almost to the café you planned to eat at with Felix, your phone lights up once more.
Yet, you forgot to check the number—your good mood diminishing instantly.
“Hey Fel—“
“Y/N, I need you in the office.”
Considering this is your boss you’re talking to, you pull into the parking lot, able to see Felix through the window—dressed to an unbearably handsome degree.
“But today is my day off, I don’t clock in on Saturday’s,” Relaying the statement, your eyes narrow at the screen.
“Well you’re going to have to. The office knows how capable you are. we need somebody like you here—we can count on you Y/N.”
You’ve been counting on me, for everything.
That familiar weight settles into your chest, more and more pressure building at a nefarious level. You feel sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than to drop the call and walk inside into work-free air.
However, you can’t. This job holds you down (in multiple ways), it’s stable, and provides good income—you can’t afford to drop it.
But what are you supposed to say to Felix?
Everything feels too overwhelming at the moment, your lungs feel like exploding, using all your willpower to say something.
“..Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
And you hang up, gripping the steering wheel like a vice.
It’s always like this. The moment you have a good thing, not even a day later everything falls apart.
Never lasts.
You
Sorry, I can’t make it, work called.
Felix
But haven’t you worked a lot this week? Why not take today off?
You
Can’t, see you another time
How selfish, you tell yourself, throwing your phone as far from you as possible.
The moment you get the chance to see him again, he slips out of your fingertips. Or in this case, you let him slip away.
Watching him glance around, delicious slice of banana cake kept in a cute tin in front of him feels heart-wrenching. And you quite literally are the worst person in the world at this very moment.
Each key your fingers press adds to the exhaustion in your bones, growing greater each inhale and exhale your take, eyes scouring the computer screen.
Being in the office is stifling. You’re trapped in a box, a box that shrinks closer and closer every second, caging you in without hopes of escaping.
This is your prison, the jail cell you didn’t realize you’d been stuck in till it was too late.
An entire library of documents pile at the foot of your desk, your head aching incessantly. So once the hour hand strikes 10pm, you trudge out the door, more than happy to be in the safety of your car.
Then you slip, and it all comes crashing down.
As if he read your mind, the one person you’ve been longing for takes over your screen, and your index shakes pressing the green button.
“..Felix.”
The words tumble out, tiny candies filling an already full jar. Too much that the lid can’t even fit on.
“Stay where you are, I’m driving to you right now.”
His response earns a stifled sob, your fist bunching the fabric of your clothing, feebly attempting to calm the incessant beating—seeming to render your lungs with meager air.
No other sentence is spoken even with him on the other line, not until headlights pour over the expanse of your dash—until Felix nearly rips your car door off its hinges to reach you in the driver’s seat.
One hand on your head, the other on your back, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, your second one in three days.
It’s all you need. All you’ve ever needed, actually.
Another heartbeat with yours, your calm before the storm that kept the calm, to know you aren’t alone in your suffering, that you can suffer together.
Ah, you can breathe.
“All these years and you’re still an awful liar.”
You simply squeeze him tighter, the blond’s laughter shaking either of you.
Guess a single taste can lead to addiction.
“I hate crying in front of people,” You sniffle, cringing back after seeing his shirt’s tear-stained fabric.
“Lucky for you,” Felix tuts, gathering your face in his hands, smiling. “I’m not people, just Felix.”
You roll your eyes, swollen condition of your eyes and cheeks not helping the irritable portrayal.
“I’m sorry, Lix, I’m so sorry. I wanted to see you so bad but work called and they keep piling—“
“Shush.”
He presses a finger against your lips.
“For one second, don’t think about work,” He exhales, face pursed in focus, fingers smoothing the crease lines of your brows.
“I know you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m not your best friend for no reason,” Felix sheepishly smiles, hand slipping from by your forehead down to your cheek, stroking the skin there softly.
Again and again, he watches you break.
Then, he picks you up all over again.
“Can you.. can you understand my frustration? It feels like everyone loves their jobs, but in the end, no matter what I do, I’m stuck in this constant cycle of hell. I can’t escape Felix, I can’t escape.”
Your voice dons into that of panic, into an hysterical fit of tears and rapid breathes, only able to focus back on the man before you after he shouts your name for the fourth time.
“Nuh-uh, no crying. The world isn’t ending, so no tears, hm?” Thumbs smoothing the flush of your under-eyes, he pulls you to his chest, hand gently rubbing your back while another cards through your hair.
“..Are you my mom or something?” You croak irritably.
Felix shakes with another bout of laughter.
“No.”
He slightly pushes you back where you can see his face, brows creasing in a focused, serious manner.
“I’m Felix, your best friend, remember? And I don’t want my friend to cry, she has too pretty of a face for that.”
“But what if her world’s ending?”
“I won’t let that happen.”
And the building blocks are stacked once more, barely able to hear his voice amidst your heart, forging itself free of its cage, your ribs.
“Y/N, look at me angel.”
Of course you follow, you know you always will.
“You aren’t required to cater to everybody, you can’t cater to everybody, no matter how hard you try. You’re human, and humans need to do human things, they need to live, experience exciting experiences. That’s how you make the little time we have here worthwhile.”
He tips your chin up, placing a kiss to your forehead.
“So don’t cage yourself up, please. And,” His voice gets cut off, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.
Debating, thinking.
“Let me help you fall in love with life again.”
As if I’m not already in love with you.
If only you knew the same thing occurred in his head as well.
Felix drove you home, and for a second, over the span of a week, it seemed as if everything was finally back to normal.
Then you received a call from such a man, on your beloved Sunday afternoon, asking a rather whimsical sort of question you never anticipated.
No, you exaggerated.
“Are you free tonight?”
Oh. Oh.
Staring at the assortment of DVD’s scattered around on your comforter, you act as if you’re oh so busy instead of planning to rot watching Dead Poet’s Society for the thousandth time.
“Uhhh think so, why?”
Felix clears his throat.
“Well, my baking place wants you— no, I want you, no, wait—“
Your heart speeds up at the sudden confession, bursting into laughter as he sputters over his words like a child.
“Will you.. meet me at the bake shop? If you can’t it’s fine I mean I’m sure you’re preoccupied-“
“No!” You shout, not intending to be so loud, shrinking in on yourself. “I mean, no, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes.”
Well, ten minutes might’ve been a stretch considering how animalistically you lunge at your hamper, sorting through clothing despite being aware Felix has likely seen every single one of your outfits a million times before
Doesn’t help this is pretty much an unofficial date. Or, hopefully those were his intentions.
Regardless, you don’t plan on wasting a chance like this again.
Standing on the sidewalk, hands situated in the pockets of a midnight black jean jacket paired with coordinating slacks is Felix, his face breaking into a smile upon seeing you.
Catching up with the man, you walk by his side, listening to him talk about meeting up with Chris days prior, about business.
It’s comforting, this small talk. And for a second, you swear you never left at all.
“And then I told him Vegemite was obviously the better choice but he…”
Words halting, you look to where his attention had been stolen, finding an old woman lingering outside the shop the two of you planned to enter. She wasn’t one of the ladies you’d seen before in your group.
Cautiously approaching the woman, it takes multiple clears of his throat for Felix to grasp her attention.
“Excuse me Miss?” He offers, allowing the woman to grab his hands with her wrinkled ones, eyes squinted to assess his face. “Would you like some help? I’m the owner of this shop.”
Slowly, a small smile stretches her face upward, wrinkles forming around her mouth like the petals of a flower.
“Why.. Why yes, young man. I’m in need of more brown sugar.”
Felix perks up at the request, and you follow them inside with your own smile, cherishing his warmth, his gentleness.
Leaning against the unmanned reception, you find the longer you stare at him describing each ingredient to the old woman, the greater that feeling in your stomach grows, eyes becoming watery.
Felix, in his loving, patient glory, is the sun.
He casts his rays over your garden, blooming once wilted flowers.
Forever ago, you believed the two of you sat on entirely opposite hemispheres. He received the day, and you, in your unchanging seasons, eternally remained shrouded in night.
Yet, you forgot the earth tilted on an axis for a reason. And, with time, the sun would rise again.
Lamps briefly illuminating the woman’s exit while Felix helps her outside, you wait till he comes back in to speak, staring at the worried way he ensures she safely heads off through the window.
For a moment, it feels like you’re back in the treehouse, gazing at him as if he painted the stars in the sky.
You refuse to let your anxiety get the best of you, not when the one person whose presence you’ve been longing for comes back in your life.
“Felix,” You voice from across the table. He looks back to where you are.
“If I don’t say it now, I doubt I ever will but..I like you. I have liked you, for a really long time actually. More than friends I mean, I like you… more than just a friend.”
He sort of studied you for a moment, and your heart flies up to your throat, rethinking every instance leading to now.
“Took you that long to tell me?” He murmurs, and when you meet his gaze, you note the small grin on his lips, the way honey seems to swirl in the pools of his eyes.
“I’ve been waiting, y’know. For a really long time,” He finishes, donning that sheepish smile whilst walking toward you, an action that causes you to fall stock still.
Leaning forward slightly, his hands clutch your face, planting the lightest of kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, and then your nose, fondly admiring the flush of your skin in the dimly lit room.
“You’re missing something,” You whisper, peeking an eye open.
Felix cocks a bemused brow.
And what is that?”
Without words, you hesitantly tap your lips, and Felix wastes no time, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible prior to savoring your taste on his tongue, remnants of sugar clinging to his bottom lip, transferring onto yours each time he tips his head.
You hop upon the countertop, beginning to apologize in case you messed up his workspace before being shushed again by his lips, hands frantically searching to hold his face, expression pinched, eyes squeezed shut.
It feels as if your heart may just burst, beating at a deafening rate in your ears.
There must’ve been something in the sugar.
“Lix?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to come back over to my place?”
Instantly, his once smugly pleased face dissipates, a hot flush rising up his neck in its place.
“Y..Your place? I mean isn’t it a bit too early to—“
Without elaborating, you drag him off, silencing any of his nervous babbling along the way back to your car.
Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for either of you to get comfortable.
“..Oh Lix.”
“I can’t- I can’t take it anymore Y/N..”
Sitting beside each other on your mattress, the both of you hold huge containers of popcorn, the newest rendition of “Alien” playing on screen. Felix is coddled in blankets, wincing as the creature gets closer to the girl’s face while you’re already gagging watching the miniature monster crawl out of the bigger one’s mouth.
“This is disgusting!!” He shrieks, hiding his face while you giggle, trying your hardest to watch the grotesque scene.
This is your third movie of the night, and even after years apart, you can still use even slightly thrilling movies to freak him out.
Still entertaining, too.
The longer you stare at him, the greater a fondness seeps into your face, into the lines of your smile, the irises of your eyes.
Months upon months you had been searching for your antidote, ignorant to the fact the antidote in question could be a person.
You hadn’t realized how low you’d gone until you had to be dragged back out again.
A hand reaching out, pulling you up when your legs were too weak to move. Kissing you when the words couldn’t come out of your mouth, holding your hand when you needed support.
Lee Felix, wrapped in your comforter now fast asleep, was your brighter place.
sunboki, may 2022 ©
#stray kids fluff#straykids x y/n#straykids x you#straykids x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz fluff#straykids fluff#skz angst#straykids angst#stray kids angst#lee felix x y/n#lee felix x you#lee felix x reader#lee felix x female reader#lee felix fluff#lee felix angst#skz felix x reader#skz felix fluff#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids x gender neutral reader
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Hi, there! :D
I saw that request are open so I have a VERY angst request.
Type: Headcanons (Romantic and a lot of angst)
Reader: Fem or neutral (I leave it to your liking)
Scenary: How about a prefect who loves sing and has a beautiful voice but due to a magical accident (indirectly being said boy's fault) them/she ends up losing her/they voice forever. The reader tries to appear normal but deep down she/them is depressed by the situation even if she/them will never hate said boy
with Deuce, Ace, Sebek and Jack (or other characters you want)
If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you. I'm loving your TWST fics and as someone who has a lot of ideas for angst fuel (I'll probably make some angsty requests here) >:D (Spoiler I have one in mind with Ortho) (and maybe I'll make fan arts) see ya :D
Sudden Silence.
PROMPT : Their singer S/O loses their voice due in part to them
CONTENT : pre-established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, Reader loses their voice, lots of guilt and shame, self-esteem issues too bc why not, hopeful endings at least!
CHARACTERS : Ace, Deuce, Jack, Sebek
- { Crash— B O O M ! } -
An explosion resounded from the cauldron next to where you and Grim worked— the one you had seen your boyfriend and his lab-partner standing over.
Someone called your name, told you to watch out. But it was too late. The greyish-canary-yellow smoke and liquid of whatever potion they had failed to make splattered on your skin and clogged your airways from your nose and open mouth...
Your voice was never the same after that.
Ace
Ace Trappola was good at lying. Exceptionally good at lying, even. So you'd witnessed firsthand several times, including the first time you met. And those used to dealing in falsehoods will always be the most adept at spotting them in others.
…Yeah you really weren't fooling him.
You had been singing your entire life. It wasn't something you'd ever really thought much about; it was just something you did. When you were young people had said that you had music in your blood— and you wholeheartedly agreed. Whenever a song you knew came on the radio you HAD to sing it, no matter what anyone else in the car thought. You ALWAYS volunteered for karaoke whenever it was an option. Were you a bit of a diva? Maybe just a little bit— but you couldn't help it! You just loved music and singing too much to ever keep it to yourself.
Ace often teased you about your need to be in the spotlight when you sang, loving how huffy you got and how you pouted, or he said that your choice of song was lame— but he never stopped you. He did actually like it, because you singing meant you were happy, after all. But Ace's gotta Ace, and the one and only Ace Trappola couldn't just let people think he was some mushy sap who loved the sound of his lover's voice, now could he?
But still, he'd often jokingly make fun of you, daring you to sing the most embarrassing song you could think of from your homeworld, or just starting a Twisted Wonderland song whose lyrics he knew would make you red in the face from embarrassment just to watch you sing to the very last note despite it. He loved that stubborn side of yours, partly because of how much fun it was to tease you with it. You were…kinda cute when you pouted. …Ok, really cute.
The accident left you with a sore throat for weeks. Your speaking voice returned to normal, but your singing voice…just didn't. You never sang anymore. Didn't even try. He felt a little…scared, to ask you about it.
He missed hearing you sing. Not because of your singing itself, but because it'd become to him the theme music of your happiness. Not having an easy way to know if you were happy or not bothered him more than he thought it would. But what bothered him most was that you didn't even get mad at him! Sure, he was used to covering up his own sadness with a bad joke when he didn't want anyone to know he was down, but seeing you try to do the same just…just no. It felt all kinds of wrong!
You lost your voice because he decided it'd be more fun to goof off and goad his lab-partner on than pay attention to the potion they were supposed to be making, even after Crewel said to be extra cautious making that particular potion. And you didn't even yell at him. Not even a little bit! Not even a pout, or refusing to speak to him in particular for a week or more. That's what he thought he kinda deserved for what happened. That's what he wished you'd do!
Anything was better than…than this!
But he knew you, and he knew calling more attention to it would probably just make you feel even worse. So, like the sleight-of-hand master he was(not really but let him dream won't you?) he drew your attention away from it. He practically dragged you away from moping alone in your room to force you to watch him at Basketball practice, and during the dreaded music lessons he even willingly embarrassed himself by playing the violin so badly it made you burst out laughing and making fun of him when he so much as tried to screech out a single note. Then he dished it out twice as bad when it was your turn to fail at it.
You punched his shoulder. Hard. And pouted at him like you always did. It felt…good, to have something normal.
But he still couldn't shake those feelings of guilt whenever he heard you start to tap along to the rhythm of a song you had playing in your head. It just reminded him every time if the way you used to hum the melodies. He felt like such an ass every time. You'd have to talk about it some day...but for now things would stay in this forced equilibrium.
Until you felt ready.
And until that day, whenever it would be, he'd keep distracting you at all hours of the day, taking your thoughts away from it. You could say it was his way of trying to make it up to you.
…Even though he knew he'd taken too much from you for the guilt to ever really leave him.
But this wasn't about him.
Deuce
Deuce Spade, the former delinquent, aspiring honor student and— despite his best efforts— someone who acted without thinking, knew what it was like to lose your way. It could be said his entire adolescence had been a long period of him continuously losing his way. So much that it, in a sense, became his way? But not a good way. It all caught up with him and smacked him in the face when he'd heard how sad it made his mom, how much it made her worry and even blame herself.
When he got into Night Raven College, he couldn't believe his luck. It was, to him, a second chance. A place he could go where no one knew of him or his past mistakes, where he could create a new identity for himself and become someone better. That was also where he met you. And also developed a big crush on you. You seemed his polar opposite: calm, thoughtful, polite and reserved. A lot of things he wished he was more of. Yet you didn't judge him at all for that delinquent side of him that seemed to rear its ugly head whenever he got too worked up. You even appreciated it when it compelled him to try to protect you and his friends. It made him feel like that was something he really could learn to leave in the past one day…or maybe even learn to repurpose for better things. He gushed about you to his mom over the phone so much that she figured out his feelings for you faster than he himself did. And when he finally did, she was also the one to encourage him to try asking you out.
…But you also ended up inadvertently reminding him of what was so troublesome about it, why he wanted to change it in the first place.
You had always been praised for your singing voice. To the point it was your biggest point of pride— something you took good care of and refined to the exception of almost everything else in your life. Back home your shelves were lined with awards from song competitions and walls with posters for all the different concerts you'd sung in, musicals you'd participated in. 'You have a bright future with music' a teacher had once told you. Those words had engraved themselves into your heart. Not having any idea what the future might hold and how you'd get a job felt less scary when you knew you had your voice to rely on. Being transported to a new world, forced to make a new life from scratch, was difficult. But at least your voice meant you had some kind of potential future career. You could ask Vil to introduce you to someone in the industry, or work for Azul at his lounge.
But you lost it. Because of him. Because he had gotten worked up over a comment Ace made and, as Deuce went to grab his collar, had accidentally knocked over something on the table next to their cauldron, causing it to break against the edge and spill way more than the recipe required into the mixture. The
It wasn't that your singing voice had become gravelly. No. It had disappeared completely. When you opened your mouth to sing, your vocal chords moved, but pure silence followed. Not even your breath was heard.
When your singing voice 'died', all your future plans, ambitions, confidence and sense of self died with it. You had never realized before just how much your voice was a part of your identity— how large of a part of your vision of 'you' that it made up. But now, having realized that the thing which, in your mind, made you 'you' was just...gone...
You didn't know how to handle it.
You became quiet. Barely even spoke. Retreated into yourself. It made him so, so, incredibly worried. He knew it was his fault. That you didn't shake your head when he said as much, a stabbing pain to his gut, only confirmed it for him. He blamed himself. How could he not? In his mind, if only he hadn't taken Ace's words— whom he knew was always just joking and teasing, trying to get a rise out of him— so seriously and entered 'delinquent mode' again and knocked that vial over, none of this would have happened. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to call his mom for advice, like always…but this time he just couldn't. It was too personal. So he waited. He didn't know what else to do but just wait. He wanted to speak to you, too…but he didn't know what to say. So he joined you in your silence, spending as much time next to you as he could, texting rather than talking, even when you were seated right next to each other.
But the worst part was when he'd come to Ramshackle and hear you, who didn't know he was there, clear your throat, obviously to try to sing. Only to be met with silence. Even the creaking of the old wood or the tweeting of nearby birds faded to nothing when you tried. All he could think in those moments was of how badly he'd screwed up.
…Weeks later, you finally spoke again.
"It's...not coming back, is it?" He could tell it was rhetorical. He felt tears mist his eyes and the same guilt stab his heart. He tried to speak. But before he could you turned to him, face for once no longer hidden behind your hair, your eyes already beginning to overflow with tears.
'Oh' he realized. You weren't upset at him. Or at least, not anymore. He didn't know what he could ever do to make up for what happened. But maybe looking at it that way— like something he did wrong— was just making it worse. The more important thing was him being there for you, not beating himself up over something that already happened, that he couldn't change.
Neither of you said anything else; he hugged you close, and you buried your face in his shoulder and you both just cried. His crying was quiet. Yours was wailing, loud enough all of Ramshackle must have heard. But you needed it. To let out your voice in anguish; to use it one last time.
His life trajectory had changed out of guilt. Yours due to something out of your hands. Yet the result remained the same: two people who lost their way, in one way or another, who now had to pick up the pieces and grow past it. When you came back out of your self-imposed, mute isolation, you felt like a different person, the world seemed a different color. It was...scary. Like the sky and horizon had collapsed and revealed a world outside of a box you'd lived in. A world vanished to reveal another. But when you trembled, Deuce was there to take your hand, even though his was trembling just as much. It made the task seem less insurmountable.
Because now you were growing up together.
Jack
Jack Howl knew devotion to an activity well; he had a reason for his training of his body, that which he devoted himself to. And it was no different for you.
You had always filtered your life through music. Music had always been there for you; a sound to use to plug up the thoughts you didn't want to deal with, thoughts that whispered to you that bad things were going to happen. When you couldn't find the words to describe your feelings, you had always been able to find a song that got those same feelings through, and got used to expressing your thoughts through song rather than speech. You had never been very good at speaking. Your vocal chords always seemed to seize up when you even thought of trying. Your life happened entire confined within your head. But singing, you became someone else. Someone with the confidence to speak into being the things within you which had previously been confined to that space.
You didn't merely partake in the act of singing; you were song. From the tips of your lashes to your very core of your bones. While you didn't often sing in front of others, more due to feeling too awkward to start singing out of nowhere for seemingly no reason, Ramshackle was never silent so long as you were there. A second that music was not flowing either through your ears or from your lips was a second not spent living.
He had only ever seen you at your quiet moments, never even having heard your voice before. So he was shocked to see you alone up on stage at a small talent show some of the students had set up. He'd attended because Epel had been forced by Vil to take part. He was surprised, then, when you came onto the stage and began to sing with an incredible passion he never would've imagined someone as shy as you would have.
It…made his heart beat a little louder, seeing you so confidence for once, so clearly in your element. It made him start to look at you in a way he hadn't before, his tail wagging more than usual whenever he saw you. He told you once that you had the talent to make singing your profession one day, and he genuinely believed that.
Then came the accident.
You weren't even together yet when the accident happened. But as one of your closest friends, he noticed the shift in you instantly. Whenever he came to visit Ramshackle, it was dead quiet. You hadn't even put on any music in the background; his hearing was good enough that his ears would've picked up it if you did.
When the Song and Dance Competition, SDC, came to Night Raven College, his chest never stopped hurting through the whole multiple-day event. He felt so restless...he wanted to run to where you were, to comfort you somehow, and he hated that he was too busy helping to build stages and move heavy equipment or shop stands all day to be able to. His ears were laid flat against his head all day, and all through the event. He couldn't even focus on any of the performances.
After it was over, he rushed to Epel to ask where you were, only to find out you'd left as soon as you cast your vote. When he came in through the door and entered the living room where you sat on the creaking couch, you smiled and waved at him the same way you always did.
He knew how much your singing meant to you. There was no way you'd get over it that quickly, right? He knew he couldn't if he somehow became unable to train, or take care of his cacti. And when he looked closer, he saw that your brows were slightly furrowed, eyes more pink than usual at the corners. It broke his heart to think of you crying all on your own. It hurt even more to know it was because of him. But he didn't know what to do to fix it. So he went with his gut, and came closer to hug you.
…And like an idiot, he blurted out how much he liked you. He wanted to kick himself. But you signed that you liked him too, thankfully.
Then Port Fest came around. He felt guilty for you needing to hear all the music in the air and not being able to participate since you couldn't play an instrument. But he didn't want to treat you like glass; he knew you were stronger than that. So he felt caught in a state of limbo, not knowing what to do.
But...something happened which neither of you had expected.
You were put on Saxophone along with Floyd, and while you seemed apprehensive at first, when you started playing, you eventually had a blast!
Later on you ended up playing a short solo of what you'd learned for him; a 'private concert', you'd signed to him. And for a moment, he recognized that fire light up within you again. He laughed.
Not even losing your voice would stop you from pursuing music.
Sebek
Sebek Ziegvolt knew what it was like to feel inadequate, for his efforts to be called 'too much'. He once heard it said that he 'puts in a lot of effort to accomplish barely anything at all'. Yet all it did was push him to push himself even more. For how could he just let such comments stand, debasing his reputation as a knight of Malleus Draconia? It could not stand! Hence why he continued to push himself harder and harder in all he did.
It was that same mantra that lead to the accident. He and Ace had been partnered for Alchemy that day, as Professor Crewel had wished to keep Ace Trappola away from his habitual other half, Deuce Spade. As such, he was paired with Sebek for this class of Freshman Alchemy. In retrospect, Sebek would curse this decision for years to come…
Ace, not wanting to do the work himself, had goaded Sebek into doing his share of the work as well in brewing the voice-changing potion designated as that class' assignment. The attack on his pride left him trying to overcompensate and complete the assignment in half the usual time, to prove himself far more skilled at potion-making than a mere, lazy human!
But then the potion exploded. And you were caught in the crossfire.
While he hadn't admitted it, your soft singing voice had always soothed him— almost like a lullaby. Anyone who payed enough attention would have noticed his voice was always a few decibels quieter after he heard you sing. And you sang often, repeating the lyrics to some Earth song on your way to class by his side, even humming quietly to yourself as you worked. It was the gentle, ambient noise that your presence by his side brought. A sound he'd found himself growing enamoured with.
Your voice enthralled him, capturing his attention fully. Yet it was not purely due to your voice. It was the look of serenity on your face. The way the world around you seemed to stop and hold its breath each time you sang. Your voice was breathtaking, yes, but the pure passion, the sheer joy and bliss your voice carried with each note, no matter the tone or subject material of the song, that truly enraptured him.
Despite his duties, and claiming he only did so on request of Lilia for him to 'get cultured', he never missed any of your shows at the Mostro Lounge. He said it almost seemed disrespectful for the Lounge's business to go up so much whenever you sang on its stage, not realizing the feelings of bitterness in his chest were not at you being disrespected, but jealousy at so many others recognizing your charm. Deep within him— past the already buried desire to want to be by your side, not as a friend, but a lover— he doubted that you would ever look upon him as he did you: with pure adoration.
Yet he was proved wrong. After a show, he had shown up with a small bouquet of flowers— hand-picked, he had made sure to emphasize— to congratulate you for a good performance. He recalls telling you that the performance was…lovely…s-so much so that— while he of course would never speak on his Lord's behalf!— he believed his Young Master might even enjoy it, were he to attend one of your concerts. His face had become redder by the second of him speaking, too caught up in his rambling speech to notice you coming close, until you had cupped his cheeks and silenced him with a kiss. He'd dropped the flowers on the floor.
So then…
When the accident, a failure of his own creation, had robbed you of that joy of yours, he felt so incredibly guilty, and ashamed! You, his beloved, had lost the one thing you loved so much, all due to his mistake. The sheer weight of that guilt, of having cost you your greatest passion in life, threatened to drag him under.
So instead of stewing in those feelings, he acted.
He tried to search through the library top to bottom, asked both Lilia and Crewel for advice on how he might possibly reverse the effects. He even got desperate enough to seed aid from his Young Master. He trembled as he did— what right did he, a mere knight…no, not even a proper knight yet, have to beg a boon from his Lord Malleus? But since it was for you, to restore that smile to your face once more, he felt compelled to.
He cried as he made his request for aid in his search of a cure, overwhelmed with his conflicting interests of wishing to help his beloved and of wishing not to burden his Lord. His cheeks reddened in shame, thick tears rolling over his cheeks, when Malleus agreed to try to help you.
You tried to tell him that him going so far out of his way to find a cure to your predicament wasn't necessary, but no matter how you explained that there are worse things, he refused to budge. It was a matter of pride now, too. He would prove to you that he had the ability to right this wrong; that he was a worthy partner to you, that he could restore to you the thing you lost. Not out of a desire for praise or gratitude this time, but because he knew he alone had to take responsibility for the accident.
The way you shone when you sang, the pure bliss the act seemed to spark in you…he couldn't live with himself if it meant he'd taken that away from you forever.
And you knew how he felt. You knew how important it was to him to be able to be of help to you in what he, not incorrectly, considered your time of need. Losing your voice was…indescribably painful. As though a flame in your soul had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Yet you had tried to act as though it didn't truly bother you as much as it did. You still had other avenues of music you could pursue, after all, such as learning to play an instrument…
Yet, though you doubted it was that he saw through that ruse of yours rather than that he felt compelled to right what he saw as a wrong he had committed, the dedication to restore your singing voice…it made you able to cling onto a shred of hope that you might see it returned one day. It reminded you once more of why you fell for him in the first place.
But above all else…he just longed to see the smile you always wore when singing, the smile that without fail made his heart skip a beat, grace your face once more.
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Writing this got me genuinely emotional— my singing is actually one of the things I'm the most proud of in myself and I love singing so much— imagining this scenario happening to myself made me so sad ; ;
But in a good way!
Some didn't turn out as angsty as the prompt described: I can do angst just fine, but if there's not a happy ending, or at least the potential of things becoming better in the future, I just start crying too much
Also didn't keep the 'tries to appear normal' part for all of them since it seems like I'm just incapable of writing the exact same Reader for every single character for a scenario haha ;^^
I think more 'what would be the most interesting way to spin this scenario and how does the Reader need to react to make it so'
And I decided to go with a gender neutral Reader just to make it more inclusive to everyone
Sorry for Jack's part being a bit rushed in places— I'm kinda worn out from the school year haha
My perfectionism keeps telling me it's not good enough for my standards because I know I could do better if I just had more energy, but that just how it be sometimes; better I learn to take the L than never finish this, at least!
But I really hope you like what I did with the prompt!
Also a head's up that, since June is gonna be really busy for me, I'm probably not gonna be able to write much at all until at least the start of July; hence why I've closed writing requests until then.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#ace trappola#ace twst#ace twisted wonderland#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade#deuce twst#twisted wonderland deuce#deuce x reader#jack howl#twst jack#jack howl x reader#sebek zigvolt#twst sebek#twisted wonderland sebek#sebek x reader#Moony's Writing
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Consider this installment 1 of however many of my Radio Silence (by Alice Oseman, the perfect author) live blogging. Currently reading it for the first (and very likely not last time) and I have so many thoughts already.
[About chapter 'I know, right'] Frances' mum is a vibe, okay? Alice Oseman is so good at writing different types of parents and I think Ms. Janvier is the type of mother I would be (not that I want to be a mother).
In general I'm in love with the characters and the atmosphere, much like I expected to be. It's my first non-Heartstopper (meaning not Nick and Charlie centric) story of Alice's and I might end up reading everything they wrote (and by *might* I mean *definitely will*).
#radio silence thoughts#my tumblr started as a Doctor Who blog where I yelled my thoughts about the show since no one I knew watched it#so back to the roots i guess#my friend will read the book after i'm done and i'm leaving annotations for her#but it still needs to go other places#if you don't care then don't but i will put all the radio silence yelling i want in my living room#maybe someone enjoys it#anyways...#alice oseman#osemanverse#radio silence
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thoseve yall who were here a year ago might remember that a year ago He was liking tweets like "idk how people can cheat when im in love im obsessed😍" and "the honeymoon stage rlly doesnt die if youre with the right person🥰" and he was liking stuff like that up till recently now shit like this is in his likes something is BROKEN in him
#i feel bad. i dont even mean it in a conceited way but i cant help but feel like a bit of this is my fault#hes so bright eyed and ambitious that the idea of him losing any of that idealism is nothing short of a goddamned tragedy im sorry#yes this is the guy who lead me on (unintentionally???) and flirted with me for a year despite seeing TWO people during that time#the latter of which became his girlfriend (who i told Everything to ...)#and like. he never apologized he never explained what was going on or why he acted like a fucking simp for a year#but basically we're not talking now and we're on bad terms and angry at each other#(me because. well yall were there for that . hes angry because i ratted his flirty ass out )#god that all stings so bad i havent talked about the details of what happened to anyone......#but yeah i just. even still after all this time i hope he stays bright eyed. the idea that he wouldnt is heartbreaking in and of itself.#that one crush situation lol#idk if theyre still together. it was early novembet i reached out to his gf and laid the whole thing out for her#& she said theyd 'take it from here' (??????) and was uncomfortable with me and him communicating with the knowledge that THAT ALL happened#even while they were together. i told her i could respect that (even though i wanted to ask her who the FUCK she thought she was. anyways)#and then i reached out to him one last time to clarify i wasnt dredging it up for retaliation or to break them up but bc she genuinely#deserved to know. then he sorta said fuck my feelings and then reiterated what his gf said that we shouldnt be talking anymore#its been radio silence since then from bothve them. if they did break up id feel bad (cause how COULDNT i?) but if they didnt.#that means the only factor that changed here was. well. his 'relationship'/chances of a relationship/flirtationship/friendship with me.#i dunno. im not gonna act like i have all the facts and im not gonna act like he hasnt screwed me over#but getting back to my main point. imagine knowing him and watching him lose his idealism. try not being heartbroken over that.
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#this is just a little vent/update on some stupid shit going on on here regarding someone i won’t name#but i need to talk about it and vent bc im so frustrated at this whole thing#so i cut a friend off recently.. told them in a *very* heated message how i felt about all the terrible shit they'd said and done recently#and demanded they do not try to contact me anymore and blocked them immediately after#no surprise 5mins later i got two anons from them in my inbox trying to start a fight however i blocked the IP after those two#i even went so far as to disable my webpage for a few days to try and deter them both from sending anons and from stalking my page#and i shouldnt have had to unblock them to tell them for the second time to leave me alone and to stop trying to start things with me#because the last time we argued it was six weeks of emotional damage that i am still really messed up from#after all this it was radio silence - or so i thought#because i've received word now twice that this person has been saying untrue things to friends of friends#trying to start drama and rumours all because i cut them off and they didn't get that fight and that last word they so desperately need ?#i just…why? why why why? why does everything have to become a drama? this is why narcissists scare me..#it took me over a year to realize thats what they are and that id been manipulated so fucking bad.. which is nothing short of embarassing#the way this anxiety has been weighing on my chest lately and dulling my time here is something that shouldnt be happening#im so so tired of all of it.. the drama and the fights and the rumours.. i physically cannot go through this kind of thing again#idk if anyone is reading this but im sorry for being so absent and unresponsive and (often times) really negative on my blog#its just so hard to be happy and positive and excited when this potential drama is looming over me day after day ya know?#im trying to push through and be here because i genuinely WANT to be here but its so fucking exhausting sometimes im constantly paranoid#i pray things will come to a rest and nothing will explode bc mentally i cannot take it anymore and i wont be sticking around in that case#i refuse to put myself through the emotional trauma that nicole put me through again. i REFUSE. so if i suddenly deactivate this is why.#but i wont be going down alone thats for sure#c.text
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林彦俊等你好久了 真的就这样吗
#lin yanjun post incoming#gonna get Real personal rn. a little hateful too. warning for that#it probably doesn’t sound like it but lyj was my first idolpro bias#he was one of the first people to get me into ninepercent & the world of cpop in general#when i started liking him it was in the middle of a scandal. the 等待整个冬天 one#then when i thought everything was fine the next scandal came out. lol.#so in the three years i liked him. he was active for like 2 months total.#anyway the point is his fanmeeting got cancelled and I was going and no one ever comes to singapore so. it sucks#and he’s livestreaming on instagram rn and just. he’s not saying anything. he’s not explaining he’s just going#‘there were a lot of reasons and we couldn’t get things ready in time’#he’s talking about releasing a book and releasing a new song at the fanmeet and bringing his dogs#but what about those 3 years? what about the radio silence what about his job#i paid for the ticket myself and i’m still a student and it was fucking rough and after all that nothing happens?#maybe i’m the stupid one for still following him maybe this is just how it is being his fan. can’t blame him for not wanting to be an idol#THIS ISNT THAT DEEP IDK WHY I GOT SO EMOTIONAL OVER IT.#he called himself 前夫 like ex-bias does he think anyone wants that?? does he want that??#is that what i should be doing then??#yeah. whatever#kinda sucks that zhengting is the only person in my 9% bias line who’s still active. but that’s on me too
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I'd Fight The Devil
Alastor x fem! reader
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
_____
Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.
Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.
"And stay in that form. It suits you."
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We're Okay
A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.
Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.
Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end
You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you.
As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head.
Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?
After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation.
You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop.
A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes.
* * *
You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened.
With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you.
“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.”
There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”
Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.”
He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked.
Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said.
You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.
He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response.
“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.”
So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat.
“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements.
“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue.
“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.”
Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression.
“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you.
“Why?” you asked.
Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”
Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him.
“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.”
You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice.
“More than,” Spencer whispered.
He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#bau x reader#jennifer jj jareau#jennifer jareau#jennifer jareau fanfiction#jeid#doctor spencer reid#doctor reid#agent reid#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds fic#bau x female reader#bau fic#bau#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine
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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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❝ CAN WE LEAVE ? ❞ feeling overstimulated at an event, you ask him to take you home
with deku, bakugou, todoroki ( pro heroes )
notes something short while i work on requests ! they are open so shoot me an ask with whatever scenario want me to write ! <3
it was so loud. it was too bright. and the music's vibration grated on your sanity with every rhythmic thump. there were too many people—too many bodies, so many conversations, and shit it was so hot. you felt as if you were floating, in a woozy state as you made your way over to your boyfriend, who was chatting with a couple friends.
IZUKU
at your hushed whisper, izuku immediately honed into your expression and body language. his eyebrows creased in concern as he guided the both of you to a corner. "what's wrong, love?"
you pursed your lips. "there's just... there's a lot of..." you sighed, unsure of how to phrase it.
he leaned into you, blocking you from the party scene behind him. "it's okay, sweetheart, we don't have to stay if you don't wanna." he read your mind and you couldn't be more grateful.
tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your head pounded. "izuku..." you whined, massaging your temples.
deku shushed you and pulled you into his chest, helping you walk out of the venue. "let's go home."
"thanks..."
"no need to thank me." he smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead as he hoisted you up and into his arms. "i was over it a while ago."
you giggled and he flashed a goofy smile.
he took you to your side of the car before climbing in himself, turning down the radio and resting a loving hand on your thigh. "rest up."
you laughed softly. "if i sleep, i might not get up, even when we get home. you'd have to carry me."
he looked at you playfully, a smirk on his lips. "it's cute how you think that'd be a problem for me, love." he pat your thigh as if that was a done deal, pulling out into the road.
the comfortable silence lulled you to sleep.
BAKUGO
"home?" he asked.
you nodded shyly.
he stood up and said a brash goodbye to his friends, lacing your hand in his as he pulled you through the crowd. once you were both far away enough from the party, you heard each other loud and clear.
"how long did you wait?" he mused as he fished in his pockets for keys.
"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows.
"how long did you wait to tell me?" he gave you a pointed look. you looked away and pursed your lips.
"you were having fun with your friends, and i really didn't want to cut it short..." you mumbled, your eyes stinging.
he opened your car door for you, leaning over the car as he watched you buckle your seatbelt. you stared up at him with glossy eyes and he softened, brushing his thumb over your cheek. the silence was welcomed as your eyes fluttered shut.
"don't be an idiot." he murmured. "just tell me the second you feel uncomfortable, 'kay?"
you leaned into his hands with a smile. "i will."
he smiled and shut your door, slipping into the driver's seat. he took your hand in his again, kissing your knuckles as he sped off.
TODOROKI
"now?" he cocked his head to the side. "are you not enjoying the party?"
your eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, the movement alone making you feel dizzy.
"okay." he set his drink down. "okay, we can leave."
"thanks..." you followed him, unsure of his feelings at the moment. he opened your car door and closed it shut once you were inside, walking to the front of the car. you saw him out the windshield picking up a call, pacing slightly as he conversed.
you grew more nervous by the minute, wondering if you should've just grinned and gotten through it. he was having a good time catching up with his friends, after all.
finally, he sat in the driver's seat, sighing as he leaned back. you watched him with concern and a little bit of guilt.
"i'm sorry, i... we can go back if you want. really." you said.
he looked at you incredulously, his expression reading utter confusion. "but... i thought you weren't enjoying it?"
"well, i—" you stammered, collecting your thoughts. "you were having a great time with your friends and i should've thought of that before i asked to leave."
he shook his head and leaned towards you. "i'm just as tired as you are, darling." he smiled. "to be honest, i'm glad you asked to leave."
"who were you on call with?" you let curiosity get the better of you.
"midoriya, he was just concerned about you." he buckled his seatbelt and brought the car to life. he cast you a little smirk. "i'm afraid you're not very good at hiding your expressions, love."
your face heated as you turned back to face the windshield. he laughed softly, "it's alright. we both aren't."
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#izuku x reader#deku x reader#bakugo x reader#todoroki x reader#bakugou katsuki#midoriya izuku#shoto todoroki#katsuki bakugo x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#bakugou x reader#deku fluff#bakugou fluff#todoroki fluff#mha fluff
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Training for Two: pt. 5
Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader
<- Previous
Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?
A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy!
PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!
art by @sleepyconfusedpotato
The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.
Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.
"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.
He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."
Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."
"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."
"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."
Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...
A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.
"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"
"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."
Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"
"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.
"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.
Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.
"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."
"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."
Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.
Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.
"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"
She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.
"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"
Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.
Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.
He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.
Hello Simon!
Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.
Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!
Have a nice evening!
P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.
He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.
He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.
"Riley, c'mere."
Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.
"Play dead." He said firmly.
Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.
He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.
"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.
He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.
------------
After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.
His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.
After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.
He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.
He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.
He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.
He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.
He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.
Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.
"Hmm?"
She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.
He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...
Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.
"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.
"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.
Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.
"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"
She cut him off with a shrill yap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.
"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.
He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.
He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-
Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.
"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.
Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
"... m... hello?"
Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.
"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."
"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."
Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.
"Hello?" He asked cautiously.
"Up... 'm up... what's up?"
Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"
Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.
Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"
Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."
Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.
"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."
"Hmm?"
"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."
"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."
Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."
"No- she wants you to tuck her in."
"She wha' now?"
You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."
He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.
"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.
"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.
You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.
"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."
"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.
He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.
"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."
"I did?"
"Yeah. The green one."
"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"
"Who are you talking to at this hour?"
Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"
"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?
"Talk to me."
"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"
"My client, ya git."
"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.
"Got me right in my bloody eye-"
"Oh, hush."
"Left your flannel at his house."
"My green one?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were using the grey one!"
"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"
"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."
You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.
"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"
"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.
Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."
"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"
"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."
You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."
"Right, will do. I'll text you."
"Is everything ok?"
"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."
"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."
"G'bye."
He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.
Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.
He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.
Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.
"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.
She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.
Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.
He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"
She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.
He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.
"We'll be alright, girl."
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Triple Threat. (Keegan, König, & Ghost X Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, double penetration, Sex Pollen, drugs, death, violence, poorly translated German, (sorry if I missed any.)
It’s been a long day.
You’ve been walking for miles behind the trio of masked men. You aren’t even sure why you were sent on this mission, considering the three men in front of you were the strongest. Physically and Mentally. They’re all skilled, more skilled than you’ll ever be. But you obey orders and even though you’re pointless to be here, you’re still enjoying yourself. König thought you’d be useful, you can’t argue there.
You’re lagging behind a bit, listening to everything going on. You’ve got a clear idea of how this mission is supposed to go. Capture the target, see what he knows, leave no survivors.
After a couple bomb threats from this person with the target of the base you all stayed on, you had no choice but to do this. You were getting too close to his operation and he was getting desperate. Which means whatever he has going on, is not good. You’d been walking a few miles, it’s where you were dropped off. You were closing in on the building he was in. It was all dense jungle around it. Nowhere to run.
As you approached the building, you noticed quite a few men outside. They were loading up a truck with crates of something. None of you had any kind of idea what it could be. “Keegan and Ghost, you two go ahead. You’re the quietest.” You nod. They give you nods of their own before splitting off into their own directions. “I’m going to go around, see if I can’t get a clear shot of some on the other side.” You mumble to König. He tilts his head. “Be safe, schatz.” You smile, “always.”
You make your way around, not having any idea of what awaits you ahead.
König watches through his scope, not sure why he’s out here when he did better with close combat, but nevertheless he kept quiet and stayed hidden. He watched Ghost and Keegan zero in.
“Y/N, how’s it looking?” He says into his radio.
He receives nothing but silence.
“Y/N? Do you copy?”
After another few minutes of silence, he begins to panic.
“Y/N isn’t responding, she circled around to get a better view, verrücktes Mädchen.” He mumbles the rest as he releases the button on his radio. “Shit. We have to get inside.” Ghost calls back.
“Keegan, do you copy?”
Ghost calls.
Goosebumps rise on his skin when he gets nothing in return. He’s breathing hard, resting up against a door. “Keegan?” He asks again. He sighs. “König. Keegan isn’t answering either.”
He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’s surprised when König doesn’t call back.
“König?”
Silence.
“God damnit.“ he breathes, taken by surprise when a dart is being shot into his neck. “What the f-“
That’s the last he remembers.
Slowly, one by one, they’re waking up. They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They’ve killed most of the threats, but there’s still one. “Rise and shine.” He smiles. Their vision is blurry but they can hear you whimpering. When they fully register what’s going on, they start to panic. You’re strapped to a chair, fully naked. You’ve got a cloth tied around your mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” Keegan yells. “Ah, so you can talk.” The man smiles. He’s breathing hard, fighting against his restraints. He runs a knife over your chest and you close your eyes tightly, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths darling. Yeah, that’s it.” He chuckles.
König’s eyes darken. He wants to rip this man’s head off for touching you.
“Your precious girl here is infected now. Well… all of you are.” He chuckles. “This little dart here. Holds 1 Milliliter of the sweetest drug you can get your hands on.” He holds up the little dart. “I prescribe about 1/4 of that for my very special clients. You’re all infected with enough of this to kill a horse.” He laughs. “What the hell is it?” Ghost seethes. “Oh? You don’t know?” He smirks. “It’s a sex drug. A bit like the over the counter ones you can buy, but on steroids. When you take a little bit, you get aroused, you produce pheromones that attract people, makes sex intense. But when you take in more than the recommended amount..” he clicks his tongue.
“Heart rate picks up. Blood pressure rises. Keeps rising and rising until it bottoms out. You’ll either die of a heart attack or your heart will just give out.” He laughs. “So.. your girl here. She was infected first. Which means she’s going to die first, and you’re all going to watch her squirm. She’s going to beg for relief, beg for anything you’ll give her. But you’re stuck.” He laughs. “The only way she’ll feel better is if she gets fucked enough.” He laughs. He sits down in a chair, writing something down. “Ich werde dich töten.” König seethes. Looking up at him through his mask. “What was that big guy? Hm?” He laughs. He stands up once more. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. How about we get rid of the ridiculous costumes, show your real faces!” He claps his hands together. He starts with König, pulling off his hood. He glares up at him. Next was Ghost, he tugs his balaclava off. Ghost sends him a death stare. Next was Keegan, who had a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at?” He crouches down. “Just think your head is going to look perfect on a stick.” He spits in his face. He growls. “Whatever. Pay close attention to your little girlfriend, she’s going to start begging soon enough.” He mumbles. “She’s actually really sexy, might give her a go before her heart explodes.” He grips his dick through his jeans and that’s when König tugs at the ropes, feeling them start to give away. You whimper out, shifting in your chair. “Yeah, there we go.” He chuckles, sitting back down. He goes back to writing something down, and you squirming on the chair doesn’t help the situation at all. You’re rubbing your thighs together, raising your hips. You’re rutting them down into the chair for any sort of relief. As the time goes on, the worse it gets. Pretty soon, all three men are trying to ignore the tightening in their pants, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard to get out of their restraints.
“Awe. Look at you.” The man smiles. “Soaking the chair.” He chuckles. He runs his fingertips up your thigh and you flinch. “Stop.” Ghost growls. “Nah, I think it’s time I take her for a test drive.” He smiles. König rips through the ropes, the man freezes when he hears the click of a gun.
“Turn around.” He growls. “Woah… take it easy big guy. I was only joking.”
“Ich habe einen Witz für dich.” He smiles. “What?” He asks. Just then, König pulls the trigger. He hits the man right between the eyes. He falls backward, blood pouring from his head. König cuts the ropes off of Ghost and motions for him to free Keegan. König rushes to get to you. “You okay?” He asks. “No-“ you shiver. He kneels down, freeing you from the chair. “I know, it’s hard. But you have to fight it.” Ghost mumbles. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” He asks. You shake your head. “No.” You grit your teeth. “Where are your clothes?”
“I don’t know, it’s too hot anyways.” You pant. Your skin is hot to the touch. Keegan stands behind you, brushing your hair away from you to look at you. You’re completely clear aside from a tiny puncture mark from the dart. “The… the only way-“ you grit your teeth, closing your eyes. “The only way is to have sex, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” You whine. “I feel it too.” Keegan mutters. Ghost looks down. Agreeing silently. König nods his head. “So what do we do?” Keegan asks.
“We do what we have to.” Ghost mumbles. You nod your head.
The more aroused the three men get, the better they seem to smell. They’re attracting you so much. You bend over, crying out. “You okay?” Keegan kneels by you. “Can’t take it anymore.” You look up at him. Tears streaming from your eyes. “Cmon.” He mumbles, sliding his arm under the bend of your knees and your back. He lifts you up. “We’ve got to find a room or something. If we’re going to do this we have to start now.” Keegan mumbles. They nod. They quickly move through the building, Ghost first, König next, and than Keegan with you. They move in a line, just in case there’s more men they don’t know about. You whine into Keegan’s shoulder. Propping yourself up onto him. “Y/N- what are you doing?” He mumbles. “Need it- need it so bad Keegan.” You mewl. You grip onto him, wiggling out of his grasp so that you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist. You attack his neck with your teeth, grinding your hips into him.
“Shit- Y/N. We’re almost there. You have to stop-“ he grits his teeth, Ghost and König glance back at you, seeing you attacking Keegan. Your desperation has them aching.
“In here.” Ghost holds open the door, locking it behind you and propping a chair up on it just in case. It’s a bedroom, at last. “Ah- you’ve got to let go sweetheart.” Keegan groans. “No, please. I need it. Need it so bad.” You whine. Grinding your hips into him more. “I know, we’re going to help you. Just… for one second baby.” He breathes. You let go of him and he lowers you onto the bed. “Fuck..” he growls. Noticing the way you’ve soaked the front of him. The three men are standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you. Like you’re the finest meal they’ve ever laid their eyes on. Keegan is first to break, reaching for his belt. Your pupils are blown out as you watch his hands move to unbuckle it. The other two follow his movements. You bite your lip, body shivering at the thought of what’s about to happen. You can’t help yourself, reaching between your legs to stimulate the sensitive nub that awaits any kind of relief it can get. A mewl leaves your lips and you tilt your head back. “She’s going to have to get used to me, I’ll go last.” König nods. They all silently agree. He’s right, he’s the biggest of the three. After admiring the way you touch yourself, they can’t anymore.
Keegan reaches out, grasping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Poor girl. Just soaking..” he breathes. He rubs the tip of his cock over your aching hole, a whine leaving your lips as you raise your hips into him. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock pushing through your wet folds. You want to cry when he fills you up. The relief you feel is incredible. You can feel more tears welling up in your eyes as he starts to thrust himself inside of you.
The squelch from your wet pussy is the only thing they can hear besides your whines. You squirm around, the way he feels is almost too much. “Ah- you’re gripping me so tight.” He breathes. “Hold on.” Ghost mumbles. He lifts you up off of the bed, apologizing at the loss you feel from Keegan exiting you. You straddle him. “You wet enough from her?” He asks. Keegan nods his head. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” He groans. He’s never done anything like this before, nothing like he’s about to do. Ghost lines his cock up with your pussy, and you sink down onto him with a gasp. Clutching his shoulders. “There you go, now relax for Keegan alright?” You nod your head. You feel Keegan’s tip aligning with your ass. You’d be worried. If it weren’t for the drug, you’d be modest and shy away from what they’re doing. But as he fills your ass to the hilt with ease, the fullness you feel. You can’t even think straight anymore.
The pleasure you feel from them has you on cloud 9. Vision blurring, you can barely make a sound. Your lips are parted, eyes are blown wide as they start to move into you. A chuckle leaves Ghosts lips at your reaction to them.
“She’s feeling good.” He laughs. “Think so.” Keegan chuckles. You rest your head on Ghosts shoulder, turning to look at König. He’s pumping his cock quickly, he’s desperate too. You reach your hand out for him. He moves closer and you take him into your hand, pumping his cock. He gasps out, head tilting back. You can see them, all of them. More than just the color of their eyes. You can see their sharp jawlines, the small scars decorating their faces. You can see the curves of their lips, their stubble that needs to be shaved. You can see and feel all of them, and it’s too much. Your first orgasm is coming fast. Your thighs are shaking, your cheeks are flushed from the warmth moving through you. “I.. I’m so close.” You whimper. Your hand tightens around König and he hisses slightly. “Fuck.” He groans. You clutch Ghost hard with your other hand. “I-“ you freeze up. Body going rigid as you reach your first orgasm. You cry out, soaking Ghost’s thighs with your arousal. “Oh fuck.” He breathes, looking down. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” He chuckles. “Ah fuck- I’m gonna cum too!” Keegan pants. He grips your hips hard. Thrusting into you harder. He’s chasing after his high, using you to reach it.
He’s panting hard, moans getting more unsteady by the second. “Oh fuck!” He growls, teeth gritted as he cums. His thrusts are sharp and bruising as he rides out his high, stuttering to a stop against you. You feel full of him, turning to look at him. He grips your throat, kissing you hard as he slides himself from your ass. “Fuck-“ he breathes. He steps away from you for a second.
“I think she’s ready for you, König.” Ghost nods. Keegan takes a deep breath, relaxing back into a chair. “Does it feel like it’s worn off?” Ghost asks him. He nods his head. “Yeah. I think it’s only got her so worked up because she’s smaller than us.” He nods. “Probably, never thought about it like that.” You’re rocking your hips into him, desperate for more. “I’ll go make sure the rest is all clear.” Keegan finishes getting dressed. König replaces the chair on the door behind him before making his way back to you. Ghost slides you off of him and you mewl at the emptiness you feel. He chuckles at this, “Relax, just for a second darling.”
“Go to König.” He breathes. You nod your head, König lifts you up into him, swapping places with Ghost. He sits down, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I’m really big sweetheart, so don’t get too eager.” He breathes. “Schau mich an.” He raises your chin and you look him in the eyes. “Keep looking at me.” He presses his forehead to yours. You slowly sink down onto him, thighs shaking slightly. He’s big. You moan out, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you. Once he’s bottoming out in you, you can barely hold yourself up. Ghost has his cock nestled into your ass, like Keegan had. He was already so close. When they start thrusting, you can’t keep quiet. It’s so much, and König adds to it. Circling your clit gently. Sucking your nipples into his mouth. You being stimulated is what helps the l drug wear off. He’d do what he had to.
Ghost has a tight grip on your hips, his thrusts are getting sloppy. He hisses, feeling you tighten slightly around him. He’s right on the edge. He tilts your head back, tugging slightly on your hair. König has one of your nipples between his lips, sucking gently as he rubs your clit. Ghost kisses you hard, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. It’s by far the best he’s ever had. His body jerks hard as he finishes inside of your ass, pulling away from you completely. You moan at the loss of him, turning to look at him. “I’m going to go help Keegan.” He mumbles. He’s readjusting his cargo pants, buckling his belt. “Be safe.” You whimper. He nods. When he leaves this time, neither you or König are worried about the chair in front of the door. He lifts you up, turning around so that he can lay you on the bed. Smiling when you refuse to let go of him. “Relax, Ich gehe nirgendwohin.” He pushes your hips down into the bed, and looks at you. He’s not sure you’re ready for the force he’s about to use on you, but as desperate as you seem to be, he doesn’t think you’ll mind.
He starts at a fast pace, fucking into you hard. It only takes a few seconds and you’re nearly crying from how rough he is with you. His cock is big and you’ve never taken anything like the three of them ever before. You’ve got a death grip on the blankets beneath you, and you can’t stay quiet. He releases one hand, using it to rub circles into your sensitive nub once more, and that’s when you lose it. You’re sobbing when you finally cum again, raising your hips into him and flinching away from him when he continues his fast pace. “Doing so good for me. So ein gutes Mädchen.” He pants. He leans down to kiss you once more, his high is approaching too. The stimulation he feels is intense, you’re wrapped so tight around him, he just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh yes… yes so close.” He grips your hips hard as he slips over the edge, hips hammering into yours as he cums. You’re sure there will be bruises all over you. “Verdammt, so gut.” He cries. His thrusts halt, and he realizes he’s just filled you up with his cum. He sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breathes. You look up at him. Eyes feeling heavy as the arousal finally begins to wear off. You send him a lazy smile. “Don’t be.” You breathe. He slides out of you, groaning as he does so. He takes a second, panting. He’s trying to catch his breath.
He helps you get cleaned up, making sure to clean your skin if the mix of arousal between the four of you.
He wraps you up in a clean blanket. Lifting you up and carrying you back into the room this had all begun. He’s looking around for your clothes but can’t seem to find them. “It’s all clear.” Keegan nods. König nods his head. He places you down in a chair for a moment, picking up his hood and returning it to cover his face. Ghost and Keegan doing the same. “I can’t find her clothes.” König sighs. “I’ve got them.” Keegan nods. He passes them to König and he thanks him. He unwraps the blanket you’re in, helping you get dressed. You’re exhausted and weak, eyes getting heavy as he helps you. “I’ve got a sample of the drug and some paperwork. That’s all we needed right?” Ghost asks. König nods his head. “Yes. All in all this was a successful mission.” He nods. “Jedoch, this stays between us.” He laughs. Ghost and Keegan can’t help but laugh, even you have a tired smile on your lips. “Yes sir.” Keegan laughs.
König ties your boots, and returns the blanket around you, lifting you up with ease. That was one good thing about the massive man, he was strong. “Let’s get to exfil. We all need to be checked out.” Ghost says. Everyone nods in agreement. You’ve finally fallen asleep and König can’t help but smile.
This was going to be a day to remember.
#call of duty mw2#soap mw2#cod mw2#ghost mw2#captain john price#price mw2#alejandro mw2#captain price#johnny soap mactavish#mw2 smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost#ghost fanfiction#ghost cod#keegan x reader#call of duty keegan#keegan russ x reader#keegan p russ#keegan smut#keegan call of duty#könig call of duty#könig modern warfare#könig x reader#könig#könig x you#könig smut#könig cod
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
☒ Summary: Alastor was on edge from the early reaping approaching. He was in his radio tower every hour of every day. You worried for him. But you didn't dare to disturb his work. You knew better than that.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, smut, implied established relationship, full demonic form!alastor, power imbalance, (alastor owns reader's soul), size kink, dacryphilia, creampie, begging, tentacle usage
☒ Word Count: 1,654
Selling your soul over to Alastor wasn't all that bad.
The Radio Demon proved to be cordial. As long as you stayed in line. You hadn't planned on relinquishing your soul. Let alone to the heartless son of a bitch, Alastor.
But the dapper man presented you with an offer you couldn't deny. Your soul in exchange for protection and power. As a new demon perusing through hell, you knew some help would be needed during the yearly reapings. So, you shook on it. Sealing your fate.
Over the decades of being chained to Alastor, he began to grow a soft spot for you. It was gradual, but before you knew it, The Radio Demon had you hanging on to every word he said.
You assumed your little crush for Alastor was one-sided. But one evening, Nifty blabbered to you about Alastor's habit of slaughtering any demon that even looked at you funny. Your heart skipped a beat. From then on, you picked up on all the glances he shot your way.
Anytime you were in a room together, his crimson gaze was on you. Alastor watched you as if you were his prey. You didn't fail to notice how he only allowed you to touch him without repercussion. The Radio Demon often eased up from your warm embraces, which solidified your suspicions.
It didn't take long after that for Alastor to call you out on your fondness for him. You were more than flustered when he admitted to knowing all along. But The Radio Demon quickly eased your spiraling thoughts. He admitted to the feeling being mutual.
From that day forward, your relationship only flourished. But Alastor always made it a point to highlight that he was the one in control at all times.
Alastor was on edge from the early reaping approaching. He was in his radio tower every hour of every day. You worried for him. But you didn't dare to disturb his work. You knew better than that.
Eventually, you had no choice. It had been weeks, and no one had heard from Alastor. The hotel patrons pleaded for you to bring him out of his workspace. You denied it vehemently until those fuckers peer-pressured you into caving.
You muttered curses as you marched up to Alastor's radio tower. You cleared your throat before calling out to him. Your balled-up fists trembling beside you. "A-Alastor? May I come in?"
As the seconds of silence flew by, your anxiety increased. A few minutes passed before the door flung open. Revealing an unmistakably irritated Alastor. "What is it?" His sharp tone sent a chill down your spine as he stepped aside. Allowing you to enter his sacred space.
"E-Everyone's worried about you. So I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Your voice was timid as you fixed your gaze on the floor. You heard a deep sigh escape Alastor before you felt his hands on you. He grasped your jaw firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
"You doubt my competence, my dear?" You froze, desperately racking your brain for a response. Alastor's other hand held your hip firmly. His grasp on you was bruising, no doubt. "Of course not! I just- with all the stress you've been under I... I want to help you in any way I can!"
You saw the wheels turning in Alastor's mind from your declaration. His hand at your jaw slithered down. Clutching your other hip as he pushed you backward. You stumbled slightly, and a gasp escaped you as your backside came in contact with his control panel. "Anything, you say?"
Alastor's voice was low as he hoisted you up. You now sat atop the control panel as The Radio Demon slotted himself between your parted thighs. You nodded fervently in agreement. "Anything, use me how you see fit."
That was all the conformation he needed. Alastor wasted no time hiking your skirt over your thighs. A blunt gasp escaped you as his sharp nails dipped between your legs, tearing your panties to shreds in one swift motion. Your eyes widened as you noticed The Radio Demon begin to morph into something more sinister before your very eyes.
Alastor's antlers tripled in size, as did his frame. A glowing red X marked the middle of his forehead, and his pupils turned into radio dials. His body completely enveloped yours as Alastor freed himself from his trousers. You bit your lip in anticipation as you admired his length. His antlers weren't the only thing that tripled.
His cock was an angry red, leaking a copious amount of precum as he bullied himself into your welcoming walls. "A-Alastor!" You whined as the tip of his hard length pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. You outstretched your arms to wrap around his twisted neck. But before you could get that far, Alastor's tendrils came out to play.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, my dear. I'm the one in control. Do I need to remind you of that?" Alastor's radio static was heavier on his tone than ever. A gasp escaped you as his tentacles tangled around your limbs. Your arms were now bound, and your legs were spread wide, giving Alastor better access to your dripping heat.
But that wasn't all. Your glowing green choker appeared before your very eyes. Alastor removed one hand from your hip to clutch the chain leash that dangled off your collar. A loud moan escaped you as Alastor plowed the rest of his cock deep inside your pussy.
"You speak when I say you can speak." He groaned, thrusting into you deep and tugging you closer by the blunt green chain.
"You touch me when I say you can touch me." Alastor pulled back, leaving only the tip of his ruddy cock nestled inside you.
"And you come when I say you can come." His hips snapped sharply, prodding your g-spot faultlessly. "Understood?" Alastor's smile took up nearly half his face as he peered down at you.
You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, waiting for the green light to speak. Alastor granted you another quick thrust. "Look's like someone was paying attention, good girl. You may speak now, darling."
Your lips trembled as Alastor began fucking into you wildly. "Y-Yes! I understand, I'll be good!" You babbled as one of his tendrils dipped between your thighs. The slippery tentacle flicked teasingly over your clit. You couldn't help the way your pussy clenched around Alastor's cock from the delicious sensation.
Alastor grunted from the feeling, but his hips never eased up. The Radio Demon fucked himself into you with reckless abandon. Chasing his own high above all else. The prodding at your sweet spot and the slippery tendril swiping at your clit was nearly too much to bear. You knew the coil within your tummy was merely moments from unraveling.
"Alastor! P-Please, I'm so close... please can I-" You babbled, giving him a pleading look as his sharp claws dug deep into your hip. Your vision blurred as tears spilled past your lash line. Your neck ached from the collar chafing your delicate skin, and your arms went numb from how long they were bound for.
His tongue darted out to lick the tears that ran down your cheek. You felt him throb deep within you from how you cowered beneath him. "Hmm... not good enough. You need to try harder than that, my dear." His pace was ungodly at this point. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
Your mind was fuzzy as you tried to form a coherent thought. Alastor chuckled wickedly above you as his tentacles tightened around your limbs. His grip on your leash was unwavering. "Please, Alastor! Please may I come? I'll be so good I-I promise... I beg you!'
Your pleading voice was hoarse as more tears slipped past your waterline. Bottom lip quivering as you peered up at him desperately. Alastor's pace faltered for a moment. Your pitiful plea riled him up more than he cared to admit. His release was near, it was only a matter of time.
"Much better. Go on, come for me!" The moment Alastor uttered those words, you were gone. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, legs trembling wildly as your white hot release overtook your senses. Your pussy gushed around Alastor's cock as he fucked you through your high.
Alastor groaned loudly above you as he slammed himself to the hilt inside you before stilling. A whine was pulled from your throat the second you felt Alastor's cum painting your walls white. His grip on your leash eased up, the green collar dissipating before your eyes. The Radio Demon slowly began to shrink in size as the last of his load filled you up.
You took a shaky breath as the tendrils slithered away from your limbs, finally allowing you to stretch them out. Alastor took on his normal appearance now as he slowly pulled himself out of your spent pussy. Embarrassment flooded your body from the aftershocks of what transpired. "Well, that was effective copulation, my dear! I feel as right as rain now!"
All you could do was stare at him dumbfounded as you pulled your skirt over your thighs. Alastor was back to his somewhat usual self. Who knew all he needed was to fuck you to get him out of his stressed state of mind. He offered you a hand as you slumped off the control panel, trying to stand on shaky legs.
"Glad you're better, Al. Now that we settled that- can we talk about how you never told me you could do that with your coc-" Alastor's finger pressed against your lips, silencing you.
"Now, now. No need for such vulgar talk! What my body can do is for me to know and for you to find out."
tags; @danveration @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix@littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @chewbrry @nonetheartist @zombiesnips-blog @stargirlplanet @twistedkisses
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#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x you#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine
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Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox
Summary : You're enjoying your evening at a party when Vox and Alastor take an interest in you and you become the subject of their unspoken challenge.
Warning : 18+, smut, edging, dirty talking, fingering, oral, creampie, oral creampie, cum swallowing, praise kink (kinda), teasing, overstimulation, edging (sort of).
Word Count : 4389 words (take that as you will)
Your friend Charlie said she needed moral support at this event meant to advertise the Hotel and Vaggie was too sick to participate so you offered thinking it was a nice occasion to go out and just look pretty while looking after your friend. This event was very formal and everyone was dressed up, you wore a very elegant black silk dress that was hugging your curves perfectly while still feeling like nothing, the dress' waist is narrow, but it's a comfortable fit, you wore matching black high heels with straps covered in diamond-like stones, the heels were somehow not uncomfortable at all which you felt very surprised by considering you didn’t usually wear any because of how uncomfortable they felt, you had your hair in a fancy updo which again wasn’t something you commonly wore but you felt expensive. You were ready to enjoyyour evening, though you hadn’t met her whole team before and when you were introduced you were either pleasantly surprised or just…surprised.
The party was huge, held in one of the biggest fancy buildings of the city and when you arrived most of the 200 guests had already arrived, Charlie insisted on introducing you to everyone in her team. Angel Dust was the first one she pointed at, he was at the bar and looked already drunk, it seemed like he was hitting on someone who looked like they were too tired for this.
“This is Angel Dust and this is Husk” Charlie said excitingly.
“Nice to meet you.” You smiled at them.
“Hi! Would you tell him that he should always try a blowjob at least once before turning it down!” said Angel Dust in a very serious yet somehow nonchalant tone.
“Hmm, sure…” You said looking at Charlie who was forcing a smile.
“Alright Husk please keep him under control will ya ?” She asked the demon that just stared at her then turned around and asked the bar for another whiskey with a resigned look on his face.
“Alright who’s next?” said Charlie walking around as she searched for someone to introduce you to.
“Well hello there.” You heard a charismatic voice say behind you surprising you as you turned around to be faced with an indeed very charismatic and tall man, you had to look higher than you thought you’d have to to meet his gaze. He looked down at you with an almost arrogant look yet somehow taunting smile.
“Oh hi Alastor! That’s y/n, she’s my friend and she’s come for emotional support!” exclaimed Charlie proud to introduce you. “Y/n, that’s Alastor my…business partner. He’s the radio demon and he’s very reliable!” She said turning to you and smiling.
“Nice to meet you.” You bowed slightly before being surprised as he grabbed your hand and bent to kiss it then looked you straight in the eyes as his eyes were now at the level of yours.
“The pleasure is all mine.” he declared smoothly, making you unconsciously blush as you weren’t expecting that, and he noticed as his grin got slightly wider. He then let go of your hand going back to his original stance.
You were still staring at him when Charlie interrupts the silence to announce “Where is Niffty, she’s the only one I haven’t introduced you to.” She scanned the rooms without any luck.
“She’s probably cleaning somewhere.” Exclaimed Alastor nonchalantly.
“I’ll go look for her, I’ll be right back y/n, you guys can get a drink or chat in the meantime.” Announced Charlie already walking away.
“Wait-“ You didn’t have time to say anything before she disappeared in the crowd.
“Why not both? Let’s get you a drink darling.” Declared Alastor extending his arm for you to grab onto.
‘Shit why am I feeling like this, it’s like my fight of flight is activated but it somehow feels good?’
“Sure…” You replied uncertain as you did just that and realized this man was making you warm, too warm, you were not sure if it was his general demeanor and charisma or the way he talked but there was something about him that made you feel flushed and unable to be your usual comfortable self.
You arrived at the bar and he ordered you a drink that you surprisingly enjoyed considering you had never heard of it before. You both sat down on stools by the bar as you sipped on your drink.
“Easy dear, this drink is stronger than it looks, you don’t want to end up like my tragic fellow.” He said pointing at Angel Dust not too far that looked like he was now trying to kiss Husk who was easily holding him at arm’s length.
You looked at Angel Dust then your drink and started sipping is slower, making the demon chuckle.
Somehow it was very hard for you to maintain eye contact with him, maybe it was because of his piercing and insistent gaze, either way you didn’t have a choice and didn’t want to seem rude.
“So, how long have you known Charlie?” You said, trying to initiate casual conversation.
“Longer than I care to remember.” He replied casually looking away then gazing back at you. “Now more interestingly how did Charlie get acquainted to such a lovely creature?” He exclaimed calmly yet looking like he was devouring you with his eyes.
“We met a long time ago in boarding school and I moved back not too long ago.” You answered realizing you had already finished your drink in spite of your best efforts, though you weren’t too worried and were confident in your ability to hold your alcohol.
“Oh well I guess I’ll get another drink.” You said grabbing the bar menu.
“What is a Demon Roulette…?” You read out loud.
“You’ve never had one? It’s a cocktail made from a very rare liquor that causes different effects on anyone who tries it, it makes some people cry, some people angry and some people suicidal even. It’s a 50/50 on if you’re going to regret its effect really.”
“So…alcohol?” You replied sarcastically.
The radio demon chuckles then pauses. “I guess you should give it a try and you’ll see what I mean dear.”
“I will if you join me?” You smiled noticing a little pause as if you had surprised him with your answer, but the expression of surprise was quickly replaced by a smirk.
“You are bolder than you look, yes, I shall indulge with you, this drink tends to make me…how should I put this…competitive? But I’m sure it won’t be an issue tonight. Two Demon Roulettes sir.” He asks the bartender who puts down your two cocktails in less than a minute.
‘Damn I hope this makes me relax, I want to really enjoy this evening.’ You told yourself hoping the drink will help. Little did you know it was exactly what would happen and more.
You took a sip of the new drink and instantly felt warm, your face flushed and your breath got a little heavier as you gulped.
“Interesting…” You felt Alastor’s gaze on you scanning your body for your reaction to the mysterious liquor and speak as if he’d already figured it out, before yourself even. He sipped on his own cocktail and before any of you could add anything you were interrupted.
“I didn’t know they let anyone in here?” You heard a smirking voice say. You looked for it only to meet the red eyes of another tall man, this time with a TV screen for a head. He wasn’t looking at you though, he was looking at the man by your side who looked his way unimpressed.
“Oh, what an unpleasant surprise.” Alastor replied before looking back at you.
“Where were we dear?” He said ignoring the other man, but before you could say anything the man walked up to the two of you putting himself literally in between you two, leaning over the counter and ordering a drink. You saw Alastor roll his eyes. The man then turned to you, still leaning against the bar, effectively blocking Alastor from your vision field.
“Hello, I’m Vox by the way, the greatest Overlord that hell has ever known, would you like me to rid you of this old timey prick?” He said confidently.
“Hi…” You hesitated, processing the info he just gave you as you kept mindlessly sipping on your drink.
“What’s your name sweetheart?” He continued, scanning your body and clearly enjoying what his eyes met.
“Hmm, I’m y/n.” You said trying to see if you could see Alastor behind him.
“I’m sorry you have to be in the presence of such a rude individual.” You heard from behind only to turn your head and find Alastor resting his hands on your shoulders staring sternly at Vox but still smiling.
His touch sent jolts down your body making you unintentionally tense up. To your surprise you felt his hands tighten as you tensed, as if to intensify the feeling, it almost felt like he knew what he was doing.
“I’m sure she would rather spend the evening with yours truly rather than this Overlord wannabe.” Said Vox looking at you waiting for your response.
You looked at him puzzled and with cheeks now flushed. You realized you weren’t truly paying attention to what he was saying but you had pieced together that he couldn’t stand Alastor. You took a second to look at all of him and realized he was fine. He realized what you were doing and smirked.
“Like what you see?” He grinned.
“Sorry, what did you say?” You questioned, snapping out of your daze and making Alastor share a laugh he tried to hide.
“Don’t push yourself Darling.” The radio demon laughed, letting go of your shoulders.
“I said you can get to know me without this disturbance of a demon around, and let’s just say that whatever you have going on with this hazbin individual, I can give you better.” Insisted Vox looking into your eyes and sipping from his drink. “You don’t deserve the company of such a beautiful creature anyways.” He adds looking at Alastor.
“This isn’t a competition.” Said Alastor, this time addressing the TV Overlord. “But I wouldn’t pass an opportunity to put you back in your place and remind you who’s in charge.” He said in a menacing tone you heard for the first time that sent shivers down your spine and to other areas you weren’t acknowledging yet. “You see this little darling just tried Demon Roulette for the first time and it seemed to have made her more…sensitive shall we say.” He said resting his hands on your shoulders once more, this time earning a quiet moan from you as you jolted and pressed your thighs together. No one seemed to have heard it, that is, besides the two demons by your side.
Vox looked dumbfounded for a second before a vicious smirk appeared on his face. You realized with him that you were hornier than you had ever been in your life, and you were longing for any touch at this point, which was a delicate situation, but the two attractive men being already your type made you feel incredibly lucky.
“Alright you’re on, you stupid old-fashioned bastard. I would love to make sure this beauty spends a night she won’t forget, though she might forget you if I’m being honest.”
“Now y/n, I know we met not too long ago but would you be interested in being the subject of a little experiment?” Alastor declared looking down at you.
‘I guess I won the roulette’ you thought to yourself, you blushed realizing how much you were enjoying the situation and how lewd your mind was.
“Hmm, what kind of experiment?” You asked turning your chair to face Alastor and finishing your cocktail. You felt the chair you were sitting on turn quickly around only to face Vox, his face dangerously close to yours, reinforcing your dirty thoughts.
“Why don’t you leave that up to us sweetheart?” He said, a devilish smile forming on his screen. “But let’s just say it is the type you will definitely enjoy.” He says inches from your face this time resting his hands on your thighs, making you squirm.
“Yup, I’m down.” You exclaim putting down your drink and looking at the two demons.
They both grabbed you by the hands and softly lead the way.
“Were you down when you got here or only after the cocktail kicked in?” Whispers Alastor in your ear.
“Let’s just say the cocktail only reinforced already existing matters.” You wink making the demon grin wickedly.
---------------
Vox opened the door to a room that looked like a boudoir, very elegant with red velvet curtains against the walls with gold lining, fancy red velvet couches and little tables. As you scanned the room you felt the hand which Alastor was holding pull you swiftly only for your body to be pressed against his. The blush didn’t have time to reach your cheeks that you felt his lips press against yours for what felt like the softest yet most decisive kiss. You couldn’t help but moan in the kiss.
“Hey! You can’t get a head start!” You heard Vox exclaim annoyingly as he closed the door behind the three of you.
“Says who?” Smirked the radio demon, after slowly pulling away from the kiss leaving a string of saliva between the two of you. “You couldn’t even kiss her even if you wanted to.” He said taunting the TV demon.
You noticed Vox not responding but walking up to you instead and grabbing your hand, pulling you with him as he sat on a couch sitting you in between his spread legs. You rested your back against his large chest and realized just how tall he really was compared to you. He dragged his hands over your thighs caressing them softly causing your oversensitive body to react, making you yelp and grab his thighs reflexively.
“Maybe not, but I can do this.” He says looking straight at Alastor as he continues tracing your body up to your chest, cupping your breast softly yet firmly. You felt electricity run through your body.
“Indeed, you can.” Said Alastor walking up to the two of you and kneeling only to grab the back of your neck and kiss you deeper this time, making your head spin as you felt his tongue enter your mouth and play with yours. The surprise caused such pleasure you ended up arching your back, driving your ass into Vox’s crotch, causing him to groan.
“That’s it I’m not playing anymore.” Vox exclaimed pulling down the two straps of your dress revealing your plump breasts for all to see and with that he started playing with your nipples, making you moan louder into the kiss. He then sunk one of his hands down your body, reaching in between your legs teasing you lightly and feeling your nether region.
“Wow, you’re so wet you might make me short-circuit.” He whispered in your ear. He sent a jolt of electricity through your lingerie directly on your clit making you essentially roll your eyes back as you realized just how all your sensitivity stemmed from that region.
Alastor pulled away from the kiss to look into your dazed lidded eyes, drowning in pleasure.
“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” He sarcastically asked kissing down your neck. “But don’t get too lost as you will have to decide whom has performed best.” He said smiling before reaching your nipples which is started to lick and suck on, driving away the hand of Vox that was left on your breast which he intuitively laid on your hip. He immediately proceeded to grab it firmly, pulling you tightly against his own crotch so that you could clearly feel his very hard member now resting between your ass cheeks. You moaned louder still with a hint of timidness.
“Moan as loud as you please sweetheart, this room is soundproof.” Said Vox confidently. And with that you felt his fingers entering your pussy not realizing your panties had been pushed to the side, making you moan very loudly and grab tightly onto the jacket of his suit.
“Getting close already, I barely touched you.” He teasingly exclaimed.
Not liking that you were enjoying his rival a little too much but only admitting it through actions Alastor stopped sucking on your nipples only to lick up your chest then gaze into your eyes before kissing you deeply and cupping both of your breasts firmly, pinching your nipples at the same time. Coincidentally it’s the time Vox chose to press hard against your G-Spot, sending you over the edge and making you moan loudly into the kiss and sinking into Vox.
“Oh yeah that’s right, good girl.” He exclaimed proudly as he continued fingering you through your orgasm.
“You see that dumbfuck? I win, she came thanks to me!” proclaimed Vox. Though it felt like the other demon hadn’t even heard him.
Alastor pulled away from the kiss to look at your current state. You gazed at him still twitching from your orgasm and noticed a serious look on his face you weren’t familiar with, you looked down and noticed a bulge pulsating in his pants. You blushed at that sight and Alastor grabbed your hips promptly pulling you towards him and turning you around, your knees on the floor but the top of your body resting on the couch, being faced with Vox’s crotch, looking just as strained as Alastor’s. You felt your panties being ripped then tossed away and your dress being lifted above your ass.
You heard the noise of Alastor undoing his pants and bending over you, his mouth next to your ear.
“Now you’ve done it darling, this isn’t just about the bet anymore.”
And with that you felt the tip of his cock press against your wet entrance, only to be pressed further and further, it felt so good, as though you were coming all over again just from feeling him entering you and you unwittingly pressed your hips against him helping him penetrate you feeling his grip tighten around your hips as you did so.
“Someone’s getting greedy I see.” Declared Vox trying to mock Alastor while trying to look as composed as he could.
Feeling like nothing was holding you back anymore you grabbed Vox’s crotch softly rubbing against the shape of his member and immediately getting his attention back.
“Oh, he’s not the only one I see.” He smirked looking at you and placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing your lip then entering your mouth. “What do you want sweetheart?” He asked teasingly.
It’s with flushed cheeks that you answered shyly. “You cock, please.”
“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He pushed, knowing he had you cornered.
“Can I please suck your cock, Sir?” You pleaded looking up at him with a completely flushed face and doe eyes that drove him crazy.
“Fuck you’re so hot, of course you can.” He replied then hastily unzipped his pants, revealing his hard shaft ready to be savored, and that’s what you did. You grabbed his member but before you could wrap your mouth around it you heard Alastor talk.
“Alright my dear I’m sure you’re ready now.” And before you could process what he said he started thrusting hard, pounding into your hole, making you moan loudly but you couldn’t drown in the pleasure because you felt Vox’s fingers pull your chin up and look at you with anticipation. “Come on now don’t get distracted.” He expressed as you kept moaning but took his manhood in the mouth nonetheless and started sucking on it with gratification. His hips instinctively started thrusting into your mouth as you sucked. He threw his head back as you sucked and sunk his fingers in your hair.
“Fuck you feel so good.” He moaned resting back as you worked your magic.
You heard Alastor breathe heavily and this immediately made your walls tighten around his cock, making him groan in return, fucking you harder and putting more pressure on your breasts as he did so. You felt the tension building back up in your stomach.
“You’re going come for me like a good girl?” He muttered in your ear before grabbing your hips and pounding you even harder. Making you lose it a second time, he felt you coming around his cock, fucking you good as you did so.
Hearing you moan louder through sucking him off brought Vox’s attention back and witness your orgasm, which would’ve made him jealous he wasn’t the one making you come if the feeling wasn’t drowned in an irrepressible need to fuck you as well.
“Alright my turn, you’ve done enough.” He exclaimed pulling you off Alastor’s cock as if you weighted nothing and grabbing your ass firmly placing you on top of his cock and lowering you making you feel full again. You threw your head back in pleasure, to his delight. He groaned deeply realizing how good he felt at that moment.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He expressed still sinking both of his hands into your ass cheeks rocking you on his cock. You rested your hands on his chest and noticed his nipples were rock hard, you teased them instinctively and noticed his groans getting rougher, but before you could play more you felt a hand cup your face only to turn it to the side and feel a cock slide into your mouth. Without you having to do anything Alastor started thrusting in and out of your mouth rather roughly, holding your head between both of his hands and very much enjoying himself, you would never admit it but so were you, the rough and deep thrusts kept you for getting deep breaths, which made your pussy tighten and made Vox moan feeling you around him. You looked up at Alastor only to be met with a look of pure lust, perfectly suiting him.
“Don’t look at me like that…” teased the radio demon, smiling evilly and throwing his head back as he kept thrusting. Everything felt so good you kept tightening around Vox.
“Fuck are you trying to make me come?” Vox declared now rocking you with one hand and fondling your breast with the other and before you could think you were coming again, melting on Vox’s cock this time, your mouth might have been busy but they both felt you coming, and both enjoyed it thoroughly.
“Good girl !” Said Vox spanking your ass in a congratulating manner, still teasing your nipple.
You looked back up at Alastor and noticed an evil grin on his face as he pulled out of your mouth.
“Pardon me but I’ll take that.” He exclaimed calmly pulling you just as easily as Vox had and positioned you on all fours on the couch, entering your already overstimulated pussy once more, making you feel as if you were gonna lose your mind. He started thrusting immediately this time, making you realize he wasn’t actually going nearly as hard as he could the first time. He grabbed your breasts and teased your nipples as he thrusted harder and harder.
“Open up sweetheart.” You instinctively opened your mouth and felt Vox’s member enter it once again, this time propping himself on his knees facing you and thrusting himself. They were both going at it much rougher than before, and you could feel their thrusts become more intense. Somehow you felt the tension rise once again and your eyes started rolling back as you felt yourself get closer and closer to the release. Vox noticed that and looked at you as he thrusted.
“You’re gonna come again? You little minx I told you you’d spend a night you wouldn’t forget.” He said moaning and somehow thrusting even harder.
“You’re going to come again darling we’re counting on you.” Said Alastor as calmly as he could be in that moment though you could hear him panting despite his best effort to conceal it. You felt Alastor’s hands squeeze your ass before settling back on your hips, which he grabbed firmly as he immediately started fucking you harder than you had ever been, somehow hitting your G-sport every single time. It didn’t take long for you to reach your release finally, tensing up all over, Vox feeling your throat tighten around his cock, making him moan loudly as you felt his cock explode in your mouth. Simultaneously, your pussy coming was tightening around Alastor who gripped you tightly pulling you fully onto his cock. “Fuck…” You were sure you heard him mumble under his breath as you realized he was coming as well, you felt cum filling both of your holes as you all finished coming.
Vox was the first one to pull his cock out of you and saw his cum in your mouth before you looked him in the eyes and closed your mouth, swallowing it before opening your mouth again, showing him what you did.
“You’re so naughty I love it.” He smiled clearly out of breath.
Alastor slowly pulled out, leaving you to collapse on the couch.
“I may have gone slightly overboard dear, my apologies.” He said slowly gaining back control over his mind.
“Fuck that was so good though.” Exclaimed Vox resting back and still catching his breath.
Alastor pulled out some tissue which he used to clean you up and Vox pulled the straps of your dress back on your shoulder. You then propped yourself up after you had time to calm down from the overstimulation. The two gentlemen (not so gentle) sat in front of you, looking at you expectantly.
“So?” Asked Vox.
“Which one was best?” They both asked simultaneously.
You looked at them thinking for a second. How were you gonna get the most out of this situation? (not that you hadn't already?)
“I’m not sure…” You replied playing coy.
They both instantly noticed what you are doing and smirked.
“I guess we fucked the poor thing silly.” Exclaimed Alastor playfully.
“Damn, we need a rematch.” Said Vox, more serious than Alastor.
“I’m sure we can arrange that. Right?” Declared Alastor smiling at you.
You nodded celebrating in your head.
To be continued...
#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader x vox#alastor x reader#vox x reader#smut#+18#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#vox x you#hazbin hotel
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Sighhh Alastor having you on your knees for him while he’s doing his radio broadcast, just for the entertainment of being able to mess with you however he wants and you not being able to make a sound due to embarrassment. So many thoughts.
HMMMMMMMM catch me under the desk!!!
when you asked alastor if you could do anything to help him with his show tonight, you weren't expecting the corners of his smile to perk up into a coy smirk. "ooh my dear, you want to help? but what do you know of putting on a good show hm?" his words make you frown. "w-well, can i sit in this time at least?" he's always been rather cut off while recording, but you catch a rare glimpse in his eyes. a mischievous one that tends to hide itself from the public, but not you. after a brief silence, alastor chuckles. "ah, i do know one thing you excel at that would make this broadcast a little special..."
your stomach flutters when he pulls you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you flush to his chest. "and i don't want to hear a single peep out of your lovely mouth while you're sitting under- i mean, next to me." he whispers in your ear before letting go and laughing as if he hadn't just turned your brain to much with a simple sentence.
and you can never tell if he's serious or just trying to make you blush. but he surprises you by planting a kiss on your hand and turning his back to you. "the show starts in ten minutes." his voice is lower than usual, more gravely. your thighs clench just at the sound alone. "and i better sit down and feel you under that desk." you swallow hard, your heart racing at all of the thoughts going through your head.
"and remember, darling. not a peep."
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor thirst#alastor x you#hazbin alastor imagines#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut
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under your skin.
The last walk-in you expected to see in your tattoo parlor in one rainy day was a massive masked behemoth of a man. It came as even more of a surprise when you wanted to see him there again and again; and a final time when he kept coming back.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Tattoo artist reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 7K
a/n: listen, as a tattoo artist irl, the first thing i did when i discovered ghost had a tattoo was to think how i had to self indulge. i’d kill to tattoo this man personally. shoutout to @117s-girl, @somnibats and Eddie for the tremendous help when i had writer’s block, and @deafeningcat for the amazing beta read as always <3
tags: fluff, reader being horny for ghost, ghost being slightly ooc, mentions at verbal abuse, slightly suggestive and slight angst.
You remember the first time Simon Riley walked into your shop.
It was a cold and rainy day - like most days in Manchester - and you were idling by, doodling on a notebook by the front desk and listening to whatever was playing on the radio without paying it much attention. Glancing at the clock on the wall where the empty loveseat was, you were starting to wonder if you should go get something to eat while you waited, when the bell on the front door chimed, indicating someone had come in.
At first, you thought he was going to rob you, and in a second you were already kissing your expensive equipment goodbye in your head, cursing the fact you had decided to buy that pricey tattoo machine you were eyeing for so long just last week, but those thoughts vanished when the figure just stood in front of you. Silently, you eyed the skull mask and sunglasses that covered his face, wondering what was this guy’s deal, since it was way too grey outside to be wearing any sort of eyewear. Trying not to let his huge stature looming over you be intimidating, you were about to say something when his gruff voice cut the silence.
“You take walk-ins?”
So he really was a client, you thought. Rummaging through the notebooks in the desk, you quickly glanced at your schedule, seeing your next client wasn’t supposed to come for a few good hours, and decided you were curious about the masked man.
“Well, it depends. What were you thinking of getting?”
He stood still for a moment, and you wondered if he heard you at all, but suddenly he reached for something in the pocket of his jeans, extending a neatly folded piece of paper in front of you. His voice filled the silence again as you unfolded the paper, and you found the thick accent oddly calming coming from him.
“I want it to be a sleeve. Covering my left forearm.”
You opened it to find a surprisingly intricate design, and it seemed like whoever did it made it with the intention of actually getting it as a sleeve. Not taking the masked guy for an artist, you found a signature on the bottom of the page, a chicken scratch that read “Tommy Riley”. Usually, you’d make light conversation and ask about the design, especially when it looked important, but something told you not to pry into this man’s business. Assuming he’s this “Tommy” fella, you just smiled politely, deciding you could fit the first session of it into your work day.
“Sure. It should take a few sessions, though, is that alright with you?” He simply nodded, wordlessly, and you decided that was good enough of an answer.
Leading him into the procedure room after getting his approval on the price, you made sure to give him a consent form for him to fill out and sign while you traced the design to a stencil - making sure to cut the right adjustments to wrap around his visibly huge forearm. You wondered if he was a weightlifter of sorts, or maybe just a gym rat.
Transferring the stencil to his skin and prepping your materials for tattooing was a completely silent ordeal, and your client seemed more than content in just letting the silence linger for the remainder of your encounter, and even if you were getting antsy by it, you were glad he didn’t comment on how visibly nervous you were when you wrapped your gloved hands around his arm to make the stencil stick - feeling his warmth and the protruding veins even through the latex that covered your own skin.
“You have any other tattoos?” You asked, stepping on the machine pedal to make sure your tattoo machine was at the right voltage while he got comfortable setting his arm on the arm rest.
“No.”
“Cool.” God, you felt awkward. “I’m gonna start now, tell me if it hurts too much.”
“Right.”
You felt stupid saying that to a man that had arms the size of your head and was at least 6,4. As expected, he didn’t even flinch when the needles touched his skin, but you weren’t about to give up on your mission to make conversation with your mysterious client. While tracing it with the machine, you analyzed the design a bit closer.
“That’s some interesting art.” It wasn’t. It was tacky as hell, all missiles and skulls and other edgy elements, but you were not going to say that to him. “You like guns?”
“Something like that.”
You gave up trying to chat him up shortly after. Even with the weird dad sunglasses on, you could still feel his stare on you, unnerving at best, and you wondered what was up with the mask. In your line of work, you’d met some interesting individuals, and you considered your shop a safe haven for all outcasts and misfits; you’d known, after all you did decide to pursue tattooing as a career. Still, something about this man - Tommy? - made you feel an itch to see what lied beyond the mask - both figuratively and literally. At least it would take a few more sessions to finish his piece, hopefully he’d say more than five words at once to you at some point.
It took you two hours to finish tracing it, and you deemed it was good to go and begin shading another day. Getting into professional mode, you gave him directions on how to care for it and asked him to come back after a month to start on shading it, and, as expected, he only nodded to you. Going back to the front desk, he handed the bills containing the price you had settled on, and turned around, leaving without another word. Out of curiosity, you picked up his file. The first thing you noticed was that he had left the “Occupation” space blank.
The second thing you noticed was that the signature read “Simon Riley”.
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
Simon didn’t come back after a month.
A good few months later, you just figured he’d given up and was now walking around with an unfinished tattoo, or, worse, he had picked another artist to finish the job, and the thought made you angrier than you’d like to admit. Despite your annoyance, whenever you’d organize your clients files, you’d find yourself lingering on his, weirdly curious and feeling like he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.
A long time passed - you don’t know how much, but you’d say it was more than a year - before he showed up again, and, once again, it was unannounced. You were finishing a client’s tattoo when your friend - and coworker - knocked on the procedure room door, and when you’d told her to come in, she looked like she had seen a ghost.
“There’s a guy in the waiting room asking for you. Said you were doing his sleeve…” She quietly announced, and you just stared at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. "He 's…Big. Tall guy with a creepy skull mask.”
She whispered the last part so he wouldn’t hear it, even if he was a good corridor distance away and the metal music coming from the radio would drown it out, and after a few moments you realized she was talking about Simon. You remember answering something to her and finishing the tattoo on auto pilot before heading to the front desk, and, sure enough, Simon was standing there menacingly, in his whole huge aura, seemingly unbothered by how his height, frame, and mask were making the other clients in the shop regard him with uneasy looks. His eyes met yours once you showed up. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses anymore, and his fabric mask had been replaced by a simpler balaclava and a hard skull mask on top that you hoped was made out of a synthetic material.
Now bare, his gaze revealed its intensity to you, the dark hues following your every move in a way you supposed you could find intimidating if a small, very weird part of you didn’t find it attractive. He seemed tired, eyes cast downwards and with bags surrounding it, and you wondered what had happened when he was gone.
“Hey.” You breathed, straining your neck to look up at him and completely forgetting about the other people in the room. “Riley, right? I’m guessing you’re here for the sleeve?”
He seemed slightly surprised you remembered his name, but the impression of seeing emotion in his eyes was gone in an instant as he simply nodded at you.
“Yeah. You got time?”
You didn’t. But you’d make it work, you weren’t about to send away the man who had, for some reason, plagued your thoughts so much for the last months.
“I got a few more clients, but if you don’t mind waiting, i can fit you in?”
You hated how uneasy you sounded, your hands fiddling with a stray loose line of your ripped jeans as you waited for his answer.
“That works.”
With his gruff reply, he turned and sat down in the waiting area, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.
The hours went by, the clients came and went to and from your procedure room as well as your colleague’s, yet, every single time you left the room to go to the front desk have a sip of water or check your next client’s name, Simon was still there, patiently waiting, the loveseat seeming oddly small under him, and his all black, dark getup blending perfectly with the black walls of the studio. If anything, it made you even more intrigued, since most people would have left by now, considering how long a tattoo takes and he could just come back another day, but he didn’t show any signs of having anywhere else to be. The people traffic started to wind down, and soon enough, you dismissed your last client of the day as you were the only artist left in the shop and the sun had already hid in the horizon.
“Glad to see you again. I was wondering if you had gotten another artist.” You laughed somewhat nervously, taking a breather by the glass door while Simon finished filling out another responsibility form, and you had to ignore how nervous you felt when he turned to glance at you with those dark and intense eyes of his.
“Got busy, that’s all.” He murmured, setting the pen down on the front desk and turning to the wall where your flash pieces were displayed. “And I like your work.”
Feeling your eyes widen, you tried to conceal how flustered the comment made you feel behind a cool chuckle, but something told you Simon could see right through you. Going back inside and pointing him towards the procedure room, you briefly glanced at the fresh consent form and realized he filled out his occupation this time, the words “Army” surprisingly not phasing you one bit.
Simon was the same as the last time, quiet as a grave. But, seeing as you were wrapping up the shading quicker than you’d anticipated, you decided this time you would not let this mysterious man walk out of your studio - possibly forever - without at least getting one piece of information out of him.
“So…does it mean anything?” You nodded towards his arm, trying to play it cool. Being in this field, you quickly realized not everyone gets tattoos that mean anything, and most of them are really just for aesthetics, but the signature below the original design had you wondering, even if the newfound information that he was in the military made the over the top missiles and dog tags inked on his arm make a lot more sense. He stared at you from behind the mask for a moment, making you feel queasy under his stare and suddenly very aware of how much you were draped over his arm trying to get the shading on one particular skull to look just right.
“Yeah.” After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. “My brother made it.”
“He’s quite the artist.”
“He really was.”
Oh.
You decided to drop the subject after the implication.
“And what branch are you in?” Not looking at him, you spoke in a low tone, too concentrated on the machine in your hands to realize you were maybe asking more than he was comfortable talking. “You know, uh, in the army.”
“Special Air Forces.” You realized he tensed almost imperceptibly, relaxing once you only hummed.
“Cool. I’d reckon you guys had tattoo parlors closer to base, though.”
“We do.” He huffed. “But I know the guys. Not nearly as clean as here.”
At that, you chuckled gently, missing the way Simon’s eyes softened at the sound.
You continued the piece in comfortable silence, distantly registering the pitter-patter of the rain that had just started falling on the street beyond the front doors. Finishing it up, faster than you would have liked, you decided the corny design looked good - really good - on him, and he might have been the only guy possible to pull it off, which could have been related to how big and strong his arms looked. Wrapping the tattoo in plastic film and reminding him to not keep it on for too long, you had to focus on acting professional and not let him know you were ogling at the recently inked piece of skin. The long sleeve shirt he had rolled up to his forearms did not help you one bit, nor did the way his eyes followed your every single movement.
When you got back to the front desk - relieved to find the rain had stopped - you expected Simon to just pay and leave silently the same way he did the last time, but he actually lingered, letting his eyes wander through the flash pieces displayed in a neat corkboard in the waiting room - this one with your name written on top. You actually don’t know when he got your name - something told you it was when he asked your coworker for you. He seemed quite interested in one particular design that had been gathering dust for a long time on the board, considering how big it was.
“See something you like?” You followed his gaze, realizing it was a ram skull chest piece you had completely forgotten about; it looked too dark and menacing for most people looking for walk-ins and flash tattoos. “That one was meant to be a chest piece. Works for the back, too.”
Simon studied it for a few moments. What was up with this guy and skulls? Finally, he turned to you.
“When can you do it?”
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
The third time Simon Riley walked into your studio, it was, by far, the most memorable one.
Unsurprisingly enough, he had decided to set an appointment for the chest piece to be the last one of your day, a week later; whether he enjoyed the night time better or just wanted to not be bothered with other people around, that was a mystery to you. There was a third option in the back of your head, but you told yourself it was delusional, and your fascination with the masked man was, in fact, one sided. That didn’t stop you from greeting him with a cheery smile as you looked up from where you were doodling on your notebook on the front desk, pretty much like your first encounter. However, you didn’t think too much of what exactly the chest piece implied as you headed to your procedure room with Simon in tow. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you freezed for a second, holding up the carbon stencil in your hands.
“Uh, you might wanna…take off your shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for you.”
Preparing the stencil gel, you tried your best to ignore him and not let your eyes wander too much as he lifted the unnecessarily tight black t-shirt over his head, careful as to not remove the balaclava and skull mask combo, folding it neatly and setting the piece of cloth over your table before standing next to you in front of the full body mirror.
I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.
If you thought Simon was huge before, that was an understatement. 6,4 feet of pure, naked muscle stood inches away from your much smaller body, and you were extremely relieved to realize that he had, probably out of consideration for you, shaved his chest beforehand - the same couldn’t be said for the faint happy trail very clearly peeking from his jeans, sitting way lower on his hips than you’d like. Scolding yourself over and over for fawning like a horny teenager, you hoped the nervous tremble in your hands as you delicately smoothed the gel over his collarbones wasn’t as obvious as you felt it was. Even through the latex gloves you could feel the heat coming from his pecs, as well as a few minor scars that shouldn’t give you too much trouble. You decided to ignore the very visible and very big bullet scar on his side. As he adjusted his dog tags to hang behind his neck so as to not get in your way, you finally peeled the stencil off, trying to calm your frantic beating heart as he analyzed it in the mirror to make sure it was in the right placement.
It got worse when he actually laid on the tattoo table - comically dwarfed under his enormous frame. Sure, you had tattooed a fair share of chests along the years - both men’s and women’s - and it never really flustered you, after all, it was your job, seeing skin was a very big part of it. However, as you lowered your torso on the bed and tried to adjust your hand to sit as comfortably as possible on his chest, you thanked the gods it was such a big tattoo; you had no idea how you wouldn’t mess it up if it was a tiny one. But you doubted Simon would ever get a tiny tattoo. Above all, you could appreciate how he maintained his breathing slow and steady and, again, didn’t even flinch as the needles touched him, making you like him as a client even more.
“I’ve heard you guys in the army got…codenames?” You started, desperate to start some conversation before your intrusive thoughts won. “What do they call you?”
Slowly, you were getting used to his brief silence before answering you. It seemed like his way to decide if your question was worth answering or not, and you were glad he had found them all to be so far.
“Ghost.”
“Very fitting.”
You were surprised to hear him exhale in a way that resembled a very weak laugh, and you felt giddy knowing you made your ever so quiet and serious client laugh - or something like that. Feeling calmer, you continued the very big piece, strapping in for a long next couple of hours.
They passed quickly, your hand working almost in autopilot as you traced the tattoo’s lineart and made light conversation with Simon - Ghost. You learned he was a Lieutenant, liked bourbon and the mask never came off. Granted, it was mostly you speaking and him answering, but you were glad he was entertaining your nervous ramblings, and you were only slightly embarrassed to admit to yourself you found his southern British accent very soothing on his deep, gruffy voice. In turn, you told him a little more about yourself; why you got into tattooing and even a few funny stories from dealing with past clients.
Finally deciding it was enough strain on his skin for one session, you set your machine down and admired your work, smiling under your mask. Taking a generous amount of the tattooing balm on your fingers, you swallowed your nervousness before gently spreading the substance on his chest so it would heal nicely, not missing the way he relaxed under your touch. If you weren’t so busy panicking by having your hands on such a massive and attractive man, you could ponder on how he seemed to be enjoying that as much as you were. With your approval, he got up to examine the piece on the mirror, and you caught yourself staring into his strong, chiseled, and scarred back, before averting your eyes, choosing to focus instead on cleaning up the inky mess you made on your trolley. You once again went through the now familiar ordeal of him silently thanking you, paying, and leaving into the night.
As Simon Riley left the studio that day, carrying an unfinished piece of your work right on his chest, you realized something clearly had changed in the air between you two. You just had no idea if it was a good or bad thing.
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
The next time Simon showed up, a month later, you were stressed out of your mind.
You were booked, so you didn’t really have any open spots next to closing time the way he liked it, so he had to settle for coming a bit earlier than usual, which meant there were actually other people in the studio for once, including the one on the front desk yelling in your face.
You couldn’t really remember what he was yelling about, just that you were suddenly regretting your decision of working with people and wondering if it was worth it to stoop down low and insult him back the way he was doing to you. You figured the moment he started yelling about his already finished tattoo that it was most likely another scam attempt coming from him, but it didn’t really matter anymore once you zeroed in on the hulking figure that showed up unexpectedly behind your unpleasant client in the form of your masked savior. For a moment, you were scared things were going to get violent, but Simon didn’t have to do much. It took one glower from him, his gaze sharp enough to cut from way above the smaller man, and he was suddenly stuttering apologies and leaving the studio in a hurry. You ignored the looks the other people in the waiting room were giving the two of you, offering a tired, but extremely grateful smile, to Ghost.
“Hey, Riley.”
He was still staring at where the man had left, and the annoyance on his usually so stoic gaze came as a surprise to you.
“What happened?”
You were already heading into the procedure room, too shaken to deal with the stares of the people in the waiting room any longer, and shot him a sheepish look from over your shoulder.
“Just a rude client being difficult. Not the first time he gave me trouble, either, but it happens.”
Simon didn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he let it slide, for the moment. Heading into the room and closing the door behind you, the air fell into a familiar silence, broken only by the cluttering sounds as you set up your supplies, and, to you, your still frantic heartbeat in your ears by the less than pleasant interaction just a few minutes earlier. It was unlikely, given how observant he was, but you hoped Simon didn’t pick up on just how shaken you were. Still, you took a few moments to calm yourself down as you tested the machine with your feet; Simon had already made himself comfortable on the table, and soon enough you fell into the rhythm of inking him, the same way you had grown used to in those last few months. Focusing on a particularly stubborn piece of skin where the ink didn’t paint as easily, you were lost in thought when his voice pulled you back to reality.
“Are you scared of me?” You heard him ask quietly from above you, instantly knowing he was referring to the way your earlier client had run off on the sight of him. Pausing your ministrations, you looked up from his chest to find him already staring at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Since you were currently working on the details on his collarbone, you haven’t realized how close you actually were to his face, and suddenly you were hit with the realization you could feel his breath through both your masks; and an intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne. Caught in a trance by his dark gaze, you realized a little too late you were gawking and not really answering his question, which made you feel very glad for the surgical mask covering your suddenly very red face and flustered expression. Looking down to continue your work, you tried to find your words once again.
“Not really. I mean, the mask was off-putting at first, but I've had some odd people as clients. You’re cool, though. You remind me of those big, scary guard dogs, but in a good way.” Cringing at the lame answer, you felt like a kid talking to her crush in middle school all over again, and the huff-slash-chuckle that left Simon only made it worse. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t, and in your flustered stupor you couldn’t find any words either, so you just let the air around you fall into a comfortable silence over again. If it were anyone else, you’d be wary of the constant quietness, but, for some reason, Simon’s presence was enough to make you content, even if no words were exchanged.
Blacking out the parts that had to be inked was a piece of cake for you and your enormous needle - which you were glad was being used on Simon, since, most of your other clients would have been crying from the pain only halfway done with the black - and soon enough you were heading out to the front with him, readying yourself to bid him goodbye and, disappointedly, only see him again in the next month, once his tattoo was healed enough for another session, however, as you approached the waiting room, he made no move to leave. You thought maybe he was, again, inspecting your work displayed on the wall, the prospect of continuing to tattoo him after his chest piece was done getting you giddy already, but he was looking nowhere but in your direction, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.
“I’ll wait until you close. Who knows if that asshole won’t come back expecting me not to be here anymore.”
Blinking up at him, it took you a few moments to process what he had murmured under his breath, and, in an instant, your heart rate shot up as you tried to wrap your head around the implications. Had it been any other client, you would have laughed it off, telling him not to worry and that you could take care of yourself, but it wasn’t just about anyone. It was him. And for some reason, the fact made you only wordlessly agree with a nod of your head and wide eyes, certain he could now see how clearly flustered and red your face looked. An intrusive part of your brain was screaming at you that he was just being nice, and that the protectiveness was just because of his job and nothing else, but you’d entertain these thoughts later - if ever.
So, much like the second time you’d met him, the rest of your afternoon was spent with seeing Ghost’s massive figure patiently waiting in the way too small loveseat in the front room of the studio, living up to the scary guard dog imagery you had joked about to him, except, this time, in between clients you’d sit besides him to catch a break and make light conversation, the deep rumble of his voice soothing all of your worries in a minute.
As the hours went by, it was way past nightfall when you closed up, everyone else had already left and you were exhausted after washing the studio on your own. True to his word, Simon loomed behind you like a shadow, quiet and intimidating, refusing to leave until he had walked you to your car in safety. You remember thanking him profusely, and him not making a big deal out of it, and the way your heart thrummed in your throat as you drove on autopilot to your house, trying to ignore the way Ghost’s figure walking besides you on the quiet sidewalk a few moments before felt just right.
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
It was early August when you woke up in a very good mood that one morning.
Later you’d realize it was because it was the day of Simon’s appointment, but at the time you had chalked it up to just being a sunny day that brightened your spirits.
Business as usual, you went along your day, anxiously waiting for the place to empty out and you’d get your newly discovered favorite customer, not that you’d admit it outloud to him, or even to yourself. It was actually a slower day, with a big break between clients, which you were glad about, so between coffee and water breaks and chit chatting with your coworkers, soon enough the sun went down and the enormous figure of Ghost could be seen crossing the threshold of the studio’s glass door, responding your enthusiastic wave with a nod of his head, eyes relaxed behind the mask. As usual, he followed you inside the procedure room, and you remembered something.
“Lemme see how your sleeve is healing.” Extending your hand, you smiled cheekily at him, giddy after seeing his half-hearted eye roll, and he gave his left forearm for you to inspect. With his busy way of life, you’d have expected to be worse, but it was actually very well taken care of. “Wow, this has healed up perfectly, good job, Simon!”
You beamed up at him, but your smile faltered once you saw his eyes widening at the praise. Oops. He grumbled something in response and you decided to save him the embarrassment, releasing his arm with a chuckle.
No matter how many times he did it, every single time Ghost took his shirt off it made your brain short circuit, but you remained professional and fell into the familiar routine of tattooing him in comfortable silence, only this time it was broken not only by you talking first, but also him. It surprised you to hear him ask you questions first or tell you some non-compromising stories about his job, - making you chuckle a few times hearing about the shenanigans of this “Soap” friend of his - but you weren’t about to complain. You were lost in the familiarity of it all when you realized that you were actually almost done with the shading - meaning his chest piece would end one session earlier than expected. Trying to mask your disappointment, you wrapped it up, forcing a smile to a suddenly very confused Ghost.
“I thought we were going to need another session but, uh, turns out it was…faster than i expected!” You gave him a slight, nervous chuckle, and you swore you saw his eyes widen behind the mask.
As usual, you wrapped the ink in the plastic film - finding it very hard to make the masking tape stick to his large pecs - and gave the same instructions in a robotic way, following him to the front desk where he finished paying for his piece, all in absolute silence and with unreadable eyes. As the transaction was finished, he lingered, standing silently in front of you, looming. You couldn’t meet his eyes.
“So, yeah, i guess that’s it…” You gave another chuckle, offering him a gentle smile. “Hey, don’t be a stranger-”
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” He blurted out, shutting you right up, and that stopped you dead in your tracks. You stared up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly, and were waiting for him to say something else or even backtrack, but that never came.
“Uh. Yes? I mean, yes, sure! I’d love to!” You stammered, certain you were wide-eyed and a flustered mess, not expecting him to be so straightforward, or, even say anything at all. Simon seemed a lot more composed than you, even if the way he blurted his question out made it seem like he could be slightly nervous. You doubted he ever got nervous, though.
“Great. Does this weekend work for you?”
Thinking back on your schedule, you remembered that no, it didn’t.
“I’m booked with work…But, the next one I should be free.” You hated how awkward you sounded.
He nodded, and took his phone out of his pocket to extend it for you, and you assumed he was asking for your number in the Ghost-est fashion possible. You unlocked it, noticing the lack of a password and the factory wallpaper, realizing it was probably a personal and barely used phone, punching your number in and saving the contact. As you returned the device to Simon, you found solace in realizing he probably felt as awkward as you did.
“I’ll see you in a fortnight, then.”
With a last nod of his head, he left, leaving you flustered, confused, but extremely giddy, and with a heart pounding against your ribcage.
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
Simon came back a week before he was supposed to.
As usual, you were closing up shop when he showed up, distractedly walking around the front room of the studio as you organized everything for the night, the sound of the heavy rain outside covering up the creaking of the glass door, so when you turned around, his presence startled you.
“Hi Simon! You’re early.” You chuckled once you recovered from your scare, but he didn’t match your energy. He was just standing there, stiff as a plank, and staring silently at you. Growing increasingly worried, you were about to ask if he was alright when he beat you to it.
“I’m leaving for a mission. And i’ll be gone for…some time.”
Your heart dropped, and you could only stare at his mask trying to process his words and find words, but ultimately settling on a quiet and disappointed oh. He finally approached you, and in less than a second he was standing towering over your figure, holding you in that familiar eye contact you’d grown to look forward to so much, even if you'd realized by his gaze that he seemed just as upset as you.
“Will you…be in danger?” It was a dumb question, but you couldn’t help yourself, everything you told yourself the days about moving slowly and waiting for your first date to decide how much you cared flying out the window as you openly worried for him for the first time. Ghost sighed, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how close you stood.
“I always am.”
Not breaking away from his intoxicating gaze, your words lowered to a whisper, a plea.
“Be careful. Please.”
The air stilled around you, thicker in tension that got worse with each passing millisecond, all of those feeling like hours. Simon’s height had never seemed so intimidating, and you never chastised yourself so much before for liking how his intense aura made you feel, something that increased tenfold once he boldly got even closer to you. Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, hoping something would come out eventually, you stilled upon feeling his gloved hands gingerly touching your face - dwarfing you in them - and you swore your heart was about to leap from your chest to your throat in a matter of seconds. His steely gaze flickered downwards briefly before returning to your eyes, asking for permission for something you didn’t even know quite right what it was, but that you’d give him regardless. The rough texture of his gloved left hand reached your now slightly parted lips as he traced the bottom of them with his thumb, moving his other hand to slowly lift up his balaclava just enough to expose his - unsurprisingly - sharp, stubbled jaw and full, lightly scarred lips. You barely had time to admire what you could see of him before his face was merely inches apart from yours, your breaths mingling together from both of your parted lips.
“You don’t even know what I look like.” He mumbled against you. A silent beg for you to stop him now, but you wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I don’t care.” You breathed back, voice barely above a whisper, and that seemed to break his resolve, as in the next moment he was leaning in and finally capturing your lips with his.
Kissing Simon Riley in real life was so much better than what you imagined. His height made it that he had to lean down an awkward amount to reach you and you actually had to stand a bit on your toes, but none of that mattered as you finally felt his lips move against yours, surprisingly slow and gentle for a man that looked like that, but you supposed he was always full of surprises. He moved his hands from your face to your waist, gripping with a little more force when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, encouraging him to kiss you harder - it would be a waste not to feel just how strong those huge arms of his could get wrapping around you. Groaning into your mouth, his touch soon became ravenous as he tasted you like a starved man, both of you now knowing it might as well be the last time you’d see each other, but you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, choosing instead to focus on the way he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as if you weighed nothing, getting even impossibly closer to your smaller frame, never breaking the kiss. You felt like you could stay wrapped up in his arms for hours, but at some point you had to part your lips, keeping your foreheads touching and looking at each other without saying another word.
He waited until you closed up and walked you to your car again; except, this time, as you watched his retreating figure from the rearview mirror, your chest felt constricted, the unsureness of if he’d ever come back alive clenching your throat in fear.
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
The late june spring air smelled good, and you were in high spirits.
You hummed contently, cleaning with a paper towel wet with soapy water the last smudges on the inked skin, leaning back to admire your work. The black crow on his upper back turned out particularly good, and you found it amusing how its edgy nature went along well with the other tattoos already on his body. Spreading the hydrating vaseline to wrap the piece up took a little more than you’d take with other clients, since you were busy admiring and feeling up the strong, scarred back beneath your fingertips.
“All done!”
The man got up, admiring the crow in an awkward angle in front of the full body mirror, and you couldn’t help but keep staring at the muscular back and pecs that you could see from your position in your chair.
“Quit the ogling.”
His voice sounded gruffy, but slightly amused, which made you chuckle and get up, stopping by his side to lean against his huge arms and stare back at him through the mirror.
“Quit being hot, then.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but you knew he was smiling under the mask and possibly had the slightest red dusting his cheeks - since he was so pale, you’d always notice it when he had his mask off, and in turn, he’d always notice how you’d stare at his face with a smug smile. He looked over the tattoo once more before you wrapped it up, past the stage of giving him the instructions, all of them already second nature to him, considering it had been so many years he started getting tattooed by you.
“You know” You started as he followed you to the front door of the mostly empty studio, the only other sound being the tattoo machine of a single other coworker that was staying late in their own procedure room. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know I still got another client and it should take one or two hours more.”
Ghost huffed, turning to you with his hands on his jacket pockets, the height difference between you never failing to take all the air out of your lungs.
“Nonsense. He’s not supposed to be here for another half an hour, right? I’ll go grab us some dinner from that place you like and I’ll be right back. I’ll help you close up then we can go home.”
You shook your head with a giggle, watching as he came closer to you, and were about to protest more but he gave you a look that left no chance for you to be stubborn, shutting you right up. Taking one hand out of his pocket, Simon lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jaw - which you had already admired that morning while he was shaving - and his lips, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling him murmur just so you could hear it.
“See you in a minute, love.”
With that, he left, leaving you to watch fondly his retreating form from the glass door, as you chuckled dreamily one last time and went back to your procedure room.
#capy.writes#cod#cod mw22#cod mwii#call of duty#call of duty mwii#call of duty mw2#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod ghost x reader
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