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waynes-multiverse · 5 months

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Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

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Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years

Note

i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.

So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work

(Don't) Go to War

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)

A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.

“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!”

Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire.

Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here.

He had no right to fuck up the mission.

“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.”

“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!”

Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.

Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves.

He was yours.

“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”

“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.”

“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”

Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him.

Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?

“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…”

Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.

“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?

The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward.

Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate.

“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.”

Elias was going to lecture you again.

He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end.

You were so incredibly sick of it.

Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well.

Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection.

Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.

The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not.

“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”

“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”

“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”

No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job.

Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance.

This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.

—

You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet.

The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well.

All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun.

“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…”

Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him.

So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.

Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.

“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”

“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.”

“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”

Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl.

“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.”

“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?”

Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor.

“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?”

“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.

“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you.

Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath.

The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away.

Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.

“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes.

You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine.

And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery.

Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was.

This could kill us both.

All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.

Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand.

“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”

“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.

“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”

A pause.

“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”

A sigh through the shocked silence.

“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”

“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”

Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes.

It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.

The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.

You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.

Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day.

The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well.

But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions.

Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk.

There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason.

There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason?

I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath.

You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.

—

Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”

Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips.

“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old.

His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.

“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.”

The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback.

Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of.

But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad.

There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.

He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.

What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.

“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them.

Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless.

They had you for that.

Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”

Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight.

“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more.

Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts.

“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.”

Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.

“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”

“Copy.”

“Dismissed.”

Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much.

It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time.

Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.

Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed.

Wait…where was he?

His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact?

Annoyance plagued him.

Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.

Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.

The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.

With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.

Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep?

Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look.

And what was that tightening in his chest?

You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information.

Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.

Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.

You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors.

The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired?

Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?

“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.”

Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth.

Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure.

He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?

When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back.

By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway.

—

You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then.

“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”

Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.

He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice.

“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.”

“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”

Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.”

The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.

The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster.

He was acting off.

Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch.

‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’

But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you.

“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind.

“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word.

Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock.

What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers.

If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission.

You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all.

This was ending. Today.

—

The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all.

Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back.

He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.

Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone?

Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward.

“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”

For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies.

“Affirm.”

He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.

Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later.

It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.

Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.

The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left.

Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.

Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people…

“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost.

You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt.

“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.”

“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”

“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.”

You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.

Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.

Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form.

“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”

Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.

“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?”

Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.

“The hell you looking for, Kid?”

“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter.

Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.

Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?

“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.”

The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.

“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight.

“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”

“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”

The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light.

Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows.

“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.

“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”

“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”

The air thickens.

Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.

“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.

“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!”

The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.

Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it.

“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.”

Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.

“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?”

You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth.

Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”

“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!”

“Watch the damn volume–”

“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”

“Listen to me. I need you to–”

“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”

“There was a sniper on the roof.”

Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear.

Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood.

“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows.

He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.

“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…”

The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”

Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed.

But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.

“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”

“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?

“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”

Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut.

Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?

Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.

You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.

A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.

“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”

Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting.

“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break.

But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch.

Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold.

Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot.

Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips.

“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”

Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”

“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“

“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”

You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything.

It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.

Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.

He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.

Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.

Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base.

“We should get going before–”

Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.

One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.

Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.

“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”

His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.

Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently.

“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.

Sniper scope.

Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater.

Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!

“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”

“What…what the fuck, Princess?”

“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.”

You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.

You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to.

He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.

Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place.

“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.

“Working on it.”

Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out.

“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist.

The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame.

“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”

Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.

“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way.

Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.

“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?

“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.

“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.

Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.

Did he just shiver?

“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”

“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”

“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”

“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”

“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”

“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.”

Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath.

You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.

He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart.

“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”

The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.

“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.

“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”

“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running.

He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him.

There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.

“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more.

You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.

“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”

Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.

—

He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him.

A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.

“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”

“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”

“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”

Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side.

You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.

“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.

“You needed to go into surgery–”

“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”

Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely.

“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”

Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan.

“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”

The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him.

Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches.

The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.

“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you.

The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed.

“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”

The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers.

Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”

A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.

“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.

“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.

“Hm.”

“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up.

A hand splays over your back immediately to help.

Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it.

When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back.

Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?

“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.

“I should be asking you that.”

“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.

“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”

“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?”

“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”

Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.

But, perhaps, it was time to try.

“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”

“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.”

“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.

His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over.

“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”

You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.

Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.

“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”

You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.

There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now.

Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown.

Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.

When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.

#keegan p russ #keegan russ #call of duty keegan #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #x female reader #female reader

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teamblck · 7 months

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simon ‘ghost’ riley headcanons 💀

SFW but some are suggestive so MINORS DNI

heart banner by cafekitsune

• lives in an apartment that is just plainly decorated since he isn’t there much

• major sweet tooth

• light sleeper

• such a genuine partner

• it would take A LOT to get this man’s walls down and start a relationship but once you do he is such a good partner. he may not always know how to deal with his feelings but he never makes you feel unloved or cared for i love him

• wears the balaclava for a couple of days when he gets home because he is so used to having it on constantly

• watches nature documentaries and sometimes talks to price about them

• very picky about his tea

• has ten pairs of the exact same jeans and shirts

• would put a tracking device in your phone

• never had a relationship but when he was younger had a lot of hook ups

• king of after care

• always checking in “are you sure i didn’t go too hard on you lovie?”

• LOVES to stargaze

• is very awkward around kids but they love him

• hates going out, prefers home dates

• doesn’t drink at all

• hates getting facial hair since it scratches against his balaclava

• i just don’t see him as someone who would be into rough sex. with his past and his job, the last thing he would want to do is hurt this partner (even if it is consensual)

• has scars all over his body

• got majority of his tattoos when he was younger

• hates the feeling for sherpa

• extremely protective

• does not move much in his sleep– which is terrifying sometimes

• favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla

• the worst texter ever

“si im thinking about take away for dinner tonight. what do you want?”

“ 👍”

“that’s not an answer what do you want?”

“ 👍”

this is my 300 followers special for all my COD peeps! i love y’all so much and have made me feel so welcome posting my horny content! again i’m still newer at writing so any feedback would be appreciated!

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #call of duty hc #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw3 #call of duty headcanons #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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pricesfav · 1 month

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John price who tries to be a motivational boss!

John price who tries a suggestion box only to have it filled with trash.

Soap who suggests a “laser tag Game on base”

Gaz who mistakes his box for a trash can and discards all of his candy wrappers in it.

Ghost has no suggestions just wants a his new Sherpa blanket and decides to ask there

John Price who takes it upon himself to write a big “NOT A TRASH CAN” sign on it

Gaz who doesn’t read it and continues to throw his wrappers away in the box

John price reads the suggestions at their next meeting

Soap whos stifling his laughter when he hears “‘Fart projects.’ Nice.” But quickly stops when price goes on his “‘Everything I do for this team’” rant

John Price who tries to boost morale with a pizza party only to find, ghost hates pepperoni, gaz wanted root beer floats, and soap is hogging all the breadsticks.

John Price who storms out of the party and into his office feeling frustrated from trying so hard to please his team.

The boys feel bad and decide to hold a new suggestion box meeting all suggesting that price gets a well deserved day off with the missus

#john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #first post like this please be nice #task force 141 #headcannons

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kennascreepycorner · 8 months

Text

My Adoring Phantom - Part 1

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ on repeat: Doomsday - Lizzy McAlpine

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 1,232

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ trigger warnings: death, lowkey stalking

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: Reader dies and meets Wally + the rest of them

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

August 9th, 2012. First day of your freshman year. Your day starts off in your English class. Your outfit consists of a thrifted sweater, with a sherpa lined denim jacket on top. Your black stockings cling to your legs under your green corduroy pencil skirt. To top off the outfit, your feet are covered with a pair of old worn out converse, black leg warmers overlapping on the top of the shoes.

As you make your way to class, you get a sudden chill. You shake it off, continuing to walk. That sudden chill was Wally.

When he saw you, he audibly said “Oh my god.”

Then he started following you. He followed you from class to class, going as far as to sit in on a couple of them just to stare at you. He walked you to class every single day, knowing you weren’t even aware of his existence. But he didn’t care, he got to see you and that’s what mattered to him. He enjoyed spending time with you, even if it was one sided.

Then May rolled around, and the school year ended, and Wally was alone. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

August 9th, 2013. First day of your sophomore year. The same thing happens all over again, rinse and repeat with your junior year, and now your senior year.

It was January 1st, 2016. Five more months, and he would never see you again.

He is snapped out of his memories by the voice of Charley.

“You’re thinking of her again, aren’t you?” Charley registers what's going on, realizing his friend is still swooning.

“Yeah. I can’t help it!” Wally leaned forward on the bleachers, resting his elbows on his knees and lightly intertwining his fingers.

“There's a very unlikely chance that she’s gonna-” Charley begins, but is cut off in the middle of his sentence by an ear piercing scream. The two ghost boys share a look, and begin searching for where the sound came from.

First, they found Rhonda, who was in the exact same boat as them. The first thing she said upon seeing them was,

“Did you guys hear that?”

Then they figured it would be a good idea to see where the massive mob of students were heading. That would most likely provide answers.

As they come across the scene it is not pretty. As it had turned out, the ‘very unlikely chance’ -in Charleys words- of Y/n’s death, had in fact happened. She had a similar story to Charleys, having died from being allergic to something. Apparently it was a bad allergy too, her body was almost unrecognizable.

Soon after they arrive, they spot a very frantic, panicked looking girl. She notices them looking at her and immediately runs to them.

“Can you see me?” She’s borderline yelling as she says this, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty. Wally lets himself take the sight of her in. She’s there. And she can see and hear him.

“Sure can, cherrypop.” Rhonda is the first to speak out of the three. Wally quickly steps forward.

“Ignore her, she’s like that all the time.” He rolls his eyes as he extends a hand to you.

“Wally Clark. Resident jock.” He flashes his toothy grin at you. You look puzzled for a second, then a look of horror and realization comes across your face.

“You’re.. Wally Clark? As in, died on the football field in ‘83 Wally Clark?” You look at Rhonda, registering who she is.

“And you’re…” You grab your hair, pulling at it lightly.

“This cannot be happening!” You take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” You stare down Wally as you ask this, him being the only one you’ve really spoken to.

“You betcha.” He awkwardly shoves his hands in his letterman jacket pockets.

Once the four of you got back to the group, it had gotten around there was a new ghost. You’re greeted by Dawn and Mr. Martin as soon as you walk in. You all sit down, Wally grabbing a new chair for you almost immediately. When you sit down, a million questions are thrown at you.

“Whats your name?”

“How old are you?”

“How did you die?” And many more follow after.

“Guys maybe uh, chill a little.” Wally chuckles as he sees your discomfort.

“She seems a bit overwhelmed.” Oh what three and a half years of observation will teach you about someone. Wally knows everything about you there is to know. He stole your diary (“It’s not technically stealing.” was how he rationalized it to himself.) and has read it cover to cover at least three times. He had been watching you since the moment he saw you. He knew your body language. You glance at him with a small smile, silently thanking him.

“I’m Y/n,” You begin slowly, cautious at first.

“I was turning 18 in a week, but not anymore I guess. I died from an allergic reaction to blueberries. Someone put them in my food without telling me, I guess, and before I knew it I was here.” You tell your story, eyes not leaving from your fidgeting hands in your lap.

“So it was murder?” Rhonda asks, not beating around the bush whatsoever.

“Maybe- I don't know, I don't really care.” You shrugged your shoulders,

“I’m dead now, either way.”

The group seemed to be surprised by how fast you had accepted your death.

“Okay! Movie night anyone?” Mr. Martin hurriedly tried to move along the session.

As night rolled around, you tugged on Wally’s sleeve lightly. You being 5'3 and him being 6’3, he had to look down slightly to talk to you.

“What’s up?” He perks up as soon as he sees you.

“Where do I sleep?” You ask the question very quietly, as if you’re scared of him.

“Well, we don’t have to sleep, it comes with the territory of being undead. But if you want to,” He gestures towards the exit of the gym. As you walk down the hall with him, you realize something.

“My backpack! Stay right here!” You exclaim, and run to the cafeteria. Luckily, when you arrived it was there, safe and sound. You sighed with relief. Then you quickly ran back to Wally, who stood waiting for you. He led you to the teachers lounge, where there was a couch.

“It’s not much, but it’s something.” He smiles a little while he says this, playing with the gold chain around his neck. This was the first time you had realized it was even there.

“Thank you, Wally. For everything. You’ve been really nice today.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. He was stunned for a split second, but quickly hugged you back.

“Of course, I want to make sure you’re comfortable here.” You let go of him after a couple seconds of comfortable silence.

“Well, good night.” You get up on your tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek, ushering him out of the teachers lounge as soon as your lips disconnect from his face.

Wally walked away calmly for a second, then when he was sure he was out of your line of sight, he let his excitement grow. He ran down the halls, jumping to slap every door frame and doing heel clicks.

#writers #writers of tumblr #fic writing #my writing #school spirits #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark x you

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 1 year

Note

birthday smut with hook? I’ll let your creative mind flow and come up with the plot and what to include🙂💕

💕 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 "𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝" 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚡, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 😘

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔈𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

There wasn’t a thing Tyler wouldn’t do for his tiger, even when such a thing sounded absolute bollocks to him. This was his birthday gift to you: a night at the Shanley Hotel, one of the most haunted places in New York.

Did Tyler like haunted places? No. Did he believe in ghosts? No. Does all of this sound like a bunch of bullshit made up to take ridiculous amounts of money from dumbass believers? Fuck yes! But you loved this. Anything that could be categorized as “spooky” or “haunted” always caught your attention, similar to his parents' dog at the mention of the word “park”.

That’s the only reason why he decided to do this surprise for your birthday, because nothing would be more exciting to you than spending the night at a “haunted” hotel.

Tyler couldn’t hold back his wide smile as you entered the hotel room and eagerly clapped your hands in excitement. His eyes wandered around the place, it definitely had an eerie feeling, but he doubted it was because it was “haunted”. Old houses are creepy by nature, and the eccentric decor and low lighting combo added to the frightening feeling.

You placed your backpack on top of the bed and mumbled “Eww, this is weird”, as your eyes stared at the intricate silver pattern on the ceiling. Small squares were drawn within each other in a side-by-side pattern, and the crystal chandelier reflected the yellow light, casting a series of small orbs of light upon the walls.

“It’s cozy” Tyler’s hands caressed the sherpa blanket that lay on top of the bed, small smirk playing on his lips “Apart from the funky decor”.

“Funky is a way of putting it” You chuckled as your eyes roamed through the three different wallpapers inside the room. Your hands touched the soft pillowcase at the same time the lights inside the room flickered and a loud tap could be heard coming from the bathroom. “Okay, that’s really weird…Hello?”

“Tiger, there’s no one here” Tyler chuckled and started to unpack your backpack for the night.

“So you’re gonna tell me you didn’t think it’s weird that the lights just flickered and there was a loud ass noise in the bathroom?!”

“This is an old house, tiggy. Lights flicker in old houses and pipes make noises”

“No, that’s not what this is. The ghosts got offended by our comments on the decor” You whispered before announcing out loud “This is a wonderful room, beautiful decor. Love the wallpapers”.

Tyler laughed before he pulled you closer to his body “You’re so fucking cute”, his hands roamed down your curves, stopping at your waist for a brief moment before naturally finding the path to your hips. He pushed you back down on the bed, hovering his body over yours.

Tyler’s head is buried in the crook of your neck, marking the meeting point of your neck and shoulder with his teeth.

“I can’t wait to taste my birthday girl” Tyler growled as his head traveled down to your breasts, nibbling on your hard nipple through your clothes.

“No, Ty. Wait, we can’t do this here” You gasped while trying to hold his head in place to prevent him from going further down. “That’s disrespectful, baby”.

“No, it’s not” He looked up at you with a smirk. “Let’s give some entertainment to the ghosts, tiger. Don’t you think they must be bored of only hearing scared screams? We should give them a private show filled with far more interesting sounds…and positions”

“No” You tried to hold back a chuckle “That’s the last thing we’ll do!”

“Are you sure?” Tyler’s fingers toyed with the waistband of your jeans “Just think of it as an OnlyFans for the ghosts, a live porn for the spiritual realm”.

“You are completely insane! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You placed your hands on Tyler’s chest “No, Ty! Don’t be disrespectful to the ghosts, damn it!”

“It ain’t disrespect, tiger. This is called caring for the ghosts. You told me this used to be a brothel, no? So don’t you think they miss seeing some action going on?” Tyler teased as you laughed

“Yeah, I’m sure one of the prostitutes on the top floor will love you. They have a thing for young guys, she might even try to get you in her bed”

“So we’ll be having a threesome for your birthday, huh? Uh, kinky tigger”

“Shut up” You slapped his chest before pushing him back “Let’s go, the paranormal tour is about to begin”.

Tyler handed you your phone and as you slid it into your back pocket he chuckled “Fine, ghost hunting first, nasty business later, am I right?” His eyebrow wiggle and pretentious grin never failed to make you burst out laughing “No nasty business for you, my dude. The last thing I want is for some ghost to see how bendy I can be”.

It was past 3 am when you came back to your room. You explored the hotel and the brothel, where one of the girls successfully caressed Tyler’s thigh - although he insisted “it was just a random breeze”.

“This was the best birthday gift ever” You turned around to face him. Placing your arms around his neck, you pulled Tyler towards you, covering his sensitive jawline with feather-light kisses and nibbles. “Thank you for bringing me here and enduring over 3 hours of ghost hunting even though you think it’s all bullshit”.

“I’d do anything for my tiggy” His hands stopped at your ass, taking handfuls of your meat as he lifted up his head to grant you free access to his neck. “Even getting groped by the ghost of a hooker in a haunted hotel room at 2 am on a Friday night”.

Your muffled chuckle asked from beneath him “So she did cop a feel, huh? Can’t blame her though, smart girl, I’d do the same”

Tyler reached down for your hand and placed your soft palm against his hard bulge “Then do it” He whispered, pulling back to cup your face in his hands “Do it, tiger”

“This is the freakiest shit we’ve ever done. I don’t think we can step it up from here” You laughed as your fist closed around his cock through the baggy jeans.

“Is that a challenge? Because I’m sure I can come up with freakier things than this” He grinned before pushing you down on the bed.

Tyler’s grip on your hips was deadly, undoubtedly leaving red bruises underneath his digits. Your face was buried in the sheets, biting the fabric in an attempt to keep your sounds muffled.

“So fucking good” Tyler grunted, staring at how your mouth opened slightly every time he pushed his cock back in you. “Fuck, tiger. Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight, baby. Fuck me, it feels like heaven” He leaned down, pressing his chest against your back and somehow managing to sink further deep in you.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so fucking deep. Holy shit”

Tyler pushed your hair to the side so he could bite your cheek “Do you like when I’m deep inside of you? Can you feel me right here, tiggy?” His hand pressed against your lower belly, applying some pressure for you to feel precisely how deep he was.

“Yes, yes…Ty, please”

Tyler grunted in your ear “Shhh, be quiet. Shut up and take it, tiger. I know you can, and I know you want to. Just take it like the good girl that you are, baby”

His hips began to move at a frantic pace, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing inside the room as Tyler’s arm circled around your waist to keep you in place. His free hand searched for yours besides your head, intertwining your fingers and resting his palm against the back of your hand.

“You’re gonna cum for me, tiger? C’mon, beautiful. Cum around my dick, let me feel you squeezing me again” Tyler’s arm left your waist, and his hand traveled down to your hidden pearl. Without his support, your body sank into the mattress, trapping his hand on your clit and making his thrusts push you down against the old bed springs.

Your free hand quickly covered your mouth, muffling your high-pitched scream as you came. Tyler’s forehead rested against your temple as his pacing became erratic, his fingers squeezed yours and he stilled inside you, grunting your name and a series of curse words.

“Fuck, tiger. You drained me” He chuckled breathlessly, unpinning you and laying down by your side. Tyler pulled your body closer to his and the blankets up your body when the adrenaline finally came down and goosebumps started to rise on your skin. His nose was pressed against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before a deep frown settled between his brows “Did you leave the bathroom light on?”

Your eyes opened and you stared at the bathroom door before you “No, neither did I leave the door open…Is that water running?”

Tyler untangled himself from you and stepped inside the bathroom in his naked glory. After a few seconds, he came back to the bed and lay beside you once more. “Alright, man. Let us know when you’re finished so we can shower too” He stated out loud, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and pulling you closer to his body again.

“What the fuck, Ty?”

“I’m just letting the ghost know that we want to shower too or else he’ll use all of the hot water” He shrugged and leaned down to peck your lips.

“Excuse me?!”

“What? Tiger, we just gave this ghost the hottest live porn of his afterlife! You’ve got some cleaning up to do afterward, don’t judge him. You’re quite a sight when you’re getting fucked, you know?” Tyler smirked against your lips, as you gasped:

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just turned into a porn actress for ghosts' entertainment”.

#hook x reader #hook imagine #aew hook imagine #aew hook x reader #hook aew #aew hook #masochist writes

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hakubunii · 1 year

Note

hiiiiiiiii it's me carlee but tumblr makes me use my main for asks 🙄 bunny if u got to dress up any of the hakuoki characters in sanrio character themed outfits or onesies who would you have wear what 👀👀👀💖

Hiiiiiiii Carleeee!!!! Thank you so mf much for the ask! I’m actually so excited to answer this and am so glad you brought the idea to my attention. I’m gonna think of outfits but also treat this like it’s a Hakuouki Sanrio collab- I also wanted to try to use different characters from the ones we usually see with Sanrio collabs.

Here’s the ideas below:

Chizuru (and consequently Kaoru): Sugarbunnies- Shirousa and Kurousa. They are twins and Kaoru would be Shirousa, the older twin, while Chizuru would be Kurousa, the younger one.

I would dress Chizuru in an oversized, brown sherpa fabric sweaters with pastel pink leggings. The hood of the sweater would have floppy rabbit ears with pink detailing. They’d both wear pink converses. Kaoru would wear a similar outfits but the sweater being white with darker pink accents. I love Sugarbunnies, they’re so cute and also Kiki and Lala aren’t the only pair of twins from Sanrio!!

Hijikata: I wanted to pick a character that isn’t used much but I think Kuromi would be really cute! He’d probably refuse to wear anything too cutesy but might let me put him in a purple button up shirt. He’d just wear white pants but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t wear a Kuromi headband!! Specifically, I’d have him dress like the purple variant of her. She’s a little mischievous so I think he’s be on her ass lmao.

Okita: Masyumaro! Souji HAD to get a cat character! I think he’d wear white pants with a white, slightly larger, button up shirt. One top of the button up, would be a large, orange sweater vest. To emulate his bow, he’d would wear shoes of the same color. Ofc he’s in cat ears. You’ll find I’ll add animal ears to any given outfit in this.

Saitou: Hangyodon!! I desperately want more merch of this character and of Saitou! I would put him in a onsie of him too- it’d be really cute haha. Like Saitou, he doesn’t express a lot of emotion. Like Saitou, he’s still super cute. :)

Harada: Hanamaruobake!!! Omg! It’s be so so cute! He’s a little white ghost who treasures his giant red, pencil. He matches Sano’s color pallet perfectly and even has something that resembles his weapon. Hanamaruobake is shy but he really likes superheroes and loves encouraging his friends. He and Sano have the latter in common! I also think he’d think Sano was cool! Anyways, I’d dress him in themed t-shirt of him! He might wear red pants with it but I’d mostly want to give him a headband with a cherry on it to look like Hanamaruobake’s.

Heisuke: Usahana!!! Omg it’d be so cute and it’s not just ‘cause she and Heisuke are my favorites. She is so special to me! Her story is that she wanted to go play on a rainbow by a lighthouse but kept stopping to help her friends. After doing this, she saw all of her limbs were a different color of the rainbow! Her favorite season is summer and she loves sunflowers and orange sherbert. I’d throw him in a hoodie that matches her colors- it’s kind of look like one of those color block hoodies. I’d probably put him in normal jeans and yellow socks. As for the bunny ears, he’d DEF have a headband of them. I’d throw the orange flower in his hair just to be silly.

Shinpachi: Kobuta no Pippo!! Mostly because of his green shirt haha! I think I could convince Shin to wear a onsie of this character- mostly if I give him food. Pippo loves surprises, games, and playing with his friends. This reminds me a little of him haha.

Yamazaki: Chococat!!! He’s probably wear a black sweater and black pants and cat ears. I wanna put a blue collar on him like how the mascot has but that felt…odd…so he’ll wear a blue belt. Chococat’s whiskers work almost like antennas and is often the first to know information- I thought because Yamazaki gathers info, it’d be a cute match.

Souma: Little Forest Fellow!!! I’d put him in a matching hat to the characters and a big brown and white sweater!!! He’d also have a charm of the little guy somewhere. I think he’s think the little dude is so so cute.

Iba: Cogimyun! He’s think she’s so cute! She a flour fairy that wants to be a rice all! She crumbles into a pile of powder when she’s upset. He would be very protective of her!!! I don’t exactly know how I’d style him- I think I’d put him in matching headpieces to hers. I think I’d just have him in a white shirt.

Sakamoto: Chibimaru! He’s a cute lil puppy. Put that man in puppy ears rn!!! I think he’d just wear a brown jacket and a shirt themed to the character! He’d also wear normal pants.

Kazama: Lloromannic! I was going to choose them for Chizuru and Kaoru, but I think I’d just give Kazama both of them. They are also demons. He’s probably wear black to match them and a top hat with wings to look like Cherry, the pink one!! He’d also have horns like Berry, the black one. Now that I think about it more, it would have been really cute to use them for the oni twins but it’s okay.

#hakuouki #hakuoki #harada sanosuke #heisuke toudou #otome #okita souji #toudou heisuke #nagakura shinpachi #kazama chikage #sakamoto ryouma #iba hachirou #souma kazue #hijikata toshizo #saitou hajime #hakubunii #hakubunii ask

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harvardfineartslib · 1 year

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Celebrating Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month this month!

Mary Lum’s exhibition catalog entitled “Moving Parts (&)” is in-library use only at the Schlesinger Library, but we wanted to include this catalog because Lum’s beautiful exhibition is up at Harvard Radcliffe Institute through June 24th. We encourage you to visit her exhibition while it’s up!

For this exhibition, Mary Lum has created an artist’s book and installation featuring photographs of temporary constructions made from a palette of broken vintage letterforms. The exhibition catalog is also gorgeous.

Mary Lum : moving parts (&) Cambridge, MA : Harvard Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, [2023] HOLLIS number: 99156684077103941 *Schlesinger Library In-library use only

Ghost forest Lin, Maya, 1959- [artist, interviewee} New York : Madison Square Park Conservancy, [2021] HOLLIS number: 99156668641703941

Zarina : paper like skin Los Angeles: Hammer Museum, University of California; Munich: DelMonico Books/Prestel, 2012 HOLLIS number: 990137311030203941

Ray Yoshida's Museum of Extraordinary Values Sheboygan, Wisconsin : John Michael Kohler Arts Center, [2013] HOLLIS number: 990139821660203941

Maya Lin : here and there New York : Pace, [2013] HOLLIS number: 990137085350203941

Tsherin Sherpa : spirits Richmond, Virginia : Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, [2022] HOLLIS number: 99156624177103941

Ruth Asawa : citizen of the universe London : Thames & Hudson Ltd ; New York, New York : Thames & Hudson Inc., 2022. HOLLIS number: 99156425913103941

Zhang Huan : altered states New York : Asia Society ; Milano : Charta, 2007. HOLLIS number: 990108885030203941

Do Ho Suh : works on paper : at STPI Singapore : STPI Creative Workshop & Gallery ; New York : DelMonico Books/D.A.P., 2021. HOLLIS number: 99155779049803941

#AsianAmericanandPacificIslanderHeritageMonth #AAPIHeritageMonth #AAPIHeritage #AAPI #MaryLum #HarvardFineArtsLibrary #Fineartslibrary #Harvard #HarvardLibrary #harvardfineartslibrary #fineartslibrary #harvard #harvard library #harvardfineartslib #harvardlibrary

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callunavulgari · 9 months

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Year In Life | 2023

Or that annual New Year’s meme where I talk about what the year was like to live through. 2023 features: a wedding (!!!), four (??) different trips (including the ridiculous two week long honeymoon in the PNW), and the death of a loved one.

1. What did you do in 2023 that you’d never done before? Took a trip to DC to see Joe Hisaishi live! Saw the natural history museum! Visited the PNW and saw: Mt Rainier, the redwoods, the most northwestern point of the US, Seattle, the Hoh rainforest including the Hall of Mosses, Lake Crescent, Forks, Crater Lake, Portland, the remnants of wildfires, a little place called Wild Pear with the best butternut squash soup I've had in my entire life, another little place that I can't remember the name of but had a sherpa stew that will warm my soul until death, and San Francisco! Saw the ghoul boys for Ghost Files Live! Went back to Vegas and saw U2 in the sphere! Planned a wedding! Had a bachelorette weekend! Oh, and yeah, GOT MARRIED!!!!!!!

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? My resolution for 2023 was to be HAPPY. And you know what? I fucking was. Other than the INTENSE anxiety of planning the wedding, 2023 treated me gently. My wedding day was singlehandedly the most blissful day of my entire life. I thought it was going to be a shit show, but goddamn if it wasn't perfect. So YES, I kept my new years resolution. And yes, I will make more for next year.

Resolutions for 2024 - Be happy and healthy. Eat good food. Doordash less, cook more. Exercise. Go on daily walks, even if they're short. Get dressed (almost) every day. Brush your teeth. Write 50k of sad ghost girl (or another original idea). Attend a pottery class. Also, cough, buy a house?

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? I don't think so? A couple facebook friends. One of my bridesmaids is due next year though.

4. Did anyone close to you die? My grandmother passed this year on the last day of our honeymoon. I got the news on a beach in San Francisco. My dad texted me a time of death. I was fine emotionally for the most part at first, she's had dementia for seven years and I'd said my goodbyes the last time that we visited. I was fine. FINE. And then Nick, thirteen days my husband, twelve years my partner, tentatively asked if I wanted to buy some flowers and toss them in the bay.

I cried. Not hard. But it broke something loose, something that saw the beauty of that place- waves lapping against the shores, the golden gate bridge looming in the distance, two little boys making sandcastles while a guy with a saxophone played for tourists closer to the street. I wanted to scream. As loudly as I could. Just to see if it would make a difference. I didn't. I wept quietly, shielded by my sunglasses, Nick holding my hand next to me and stared out at a bay that she'd never seen before, that she never would.

And then I shook my shoulders out and we went to go meet up for the sunset sail on the bay, which I'd booked since it was our last night. Something special. I didn't want to miss it, not on our last night. It was pretty, but bitterly cold because fog moved in when we neared Alcatraz and just wouldn't quit. The sunset was lovely. I was queasy from the rocking of the sailboat. I couldn't stop thinking about her.

I didn't cry again, not at the funeral, not at the small celebration of life afterwards. It hurts in a different way, I think, mourning the death of someone who has been lost to you for so many years while their body lingers on. I looked back at old facebook posts from when she was still her, when she wrote letters on my wall because she didn't understand how messenger worked. She was the third of four sisters, all gone before her. She used to have so many friends and so few people showed to the funeral. It would have made her sad to see, I think.

5. What countries did you visit? Alternatively, what is your favorite place that you did go this year? No countries. We nearly booked our honeymoon to Portugal, but turns out weddings are expensive and I managed to do two weeks in the PNW for half the cost. I will say though that I have wanted to visit the west coast for years, so I am incredibly glad that we went. My favorite of all of the places that we went is a tie between Mt Rainier and Crater Lake. One- the pull of a mountain is legit. I grew up with the Appalachians, but goddamn, it doesn't prepare you for the sight of something Like Mt Rainier. Two- nobody effing told me that Crater Lake was THAT blue. The water, brilliant blue. The sky, brilliant blue. The air, crisp. The rest of it, PACKED with chipmunks. It was amazing. The whole trip was, but damn.

Some highlights-

6. What would you like to have in 2024 that you lacked in 2023? My answer to this last year was a husband. And like, CHECKMARK there. For 2024, and I know that this is dreaming big, but we are going to try - TRY - to buy a house this year. We will have to see how that goes.

7. What date from 2023 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? August 26th 2023. ❤️ 8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? I married my best friend. And I also survived the wedding planning process, christ. I mean don't get me wrong, the day was great, it was beautiful, wouldn't change it for the world. But sometimes I think that I should have saved myself the stress and eloped somewhere.

9. What was your biggest failure? Eh, I mean I didn't lose the weight that I wanted for the wedding, but I'm not going to hold that against me. I bought a dress that I felt pretty in with the size I was at rather than the one I wanted to be and I do not regret that. I did a lot of weightlifting and I'm strong enough to do squats with Nick on my back, so that's progress enough for now. 10. Did you suffer illness or injury? We got covid again coming back from our honeymoon, which was less than ideal. Mask up in the giant metal tubes, friends.

11. What was the best thing you bought? I'm honestly blanking on this right now. We bought a ton of stuff for the wedding, so... that? I got some neat stuff at farmers markets. I treated myself to good headphones and a proper stand for my computer. 12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Honestly? Nick's mom. We had a falling out years and years ago and while we've had a steady truce going since about 2016-2017 or so, I always feel like we're on thin ice. She's a bit of a narcissist, she holds grudges, and honestly, I'm pretty sure that she'd despise anyone that Nick or his brother ended up with. She does not like other women.

But. She behaved herself for the wedding. There were a couple small things- she almost made our bartenders cry because they mixed up our drink packages (they fixed it, it wasn't a big deal, we had NA drinks leftover from the rehearsal the night before and they went to get more) and her dress was a pale enough pink that it showed up in all of the pictures as white, but you know what? It's a win. She seemed genuinely happy during the wedding. She didn't start shit or make a fool of herself. It was just nice.

Who knows what the future has in store on this front, but for now? I'm taking it as a win and moving on. 13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? So, my mother, stepfather, and both of my brothers didn't show up to the wedding. It... wasn't exactly unexpected and when it comes down to it both my sister and I were relieved that my mom wasn't there. If she had been I guarantee the day wouldn't have gone as smoothly as it did.

But I was upset that my brothers couldn't be there. They had legitimate reasons, but it still hurt. So not appalled so much, but definitely sad.

14. Where did most of your money go? Ha. Ha ha ha. Weddings are fucking expensive. We set a budget that would have been completely and totally reasonable if we'd had the wedding prior to 2020. And then we got to actually do the research and realized that our budget was laughably impossible. We had help from Nick's mom and his grandparents, but goddamn, every time I think of how much money was sunk into one day I want to vomit. 15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? The WEDDING. The HONEYMOON. Mt Rainier! Crater Lake! The redwoods! And then, y'know, on a smaller scale: seeing Joe Hisaishi in concert, seeing the Beatles show in Vegas again, getting to do a spooky little autumn drive to see the ghoul boys live. Books. I got a whimsical little tattoo with a flying whale and a castle in the sky.

16. What song will always remind you of 2023? Stand By Me. Paradise Valley. Hello Stranger. Glasgow Love Theme. The Spiritfarer soundtrack. A million Miley Cyrus (?) songs. Eat Your Young. Green Green Grass.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. happier or sadder? Happier. So much happier. ii. thinner or fatter? Same size, I think? More muscle, but the scale is the same. iii. richer or poorer? Uh, probably either poorer or around the same. We've recovered a bit from the wedding, but it's been rough. 18. What do you wish you’d done more of? I genuinely do wish that I'd taken better care of myself. My blood pressure has been up, I've been having more heart palpitations, more brain fog, more headaches. And I mean, I did weight lifting, great. But I do genuinely need to eat better. I need to lose weight not because I hate how I look, but because I have sleep apnea and can't tolerate the CPAP, which means that if I don't lose weight or get my tonsils removed my blood pressure will continue to spike until I die. So. Weight loss IS a legitimate goal this year, because it is necessary.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Being an anxious mess about the wedding? I mean that's easy to say now that it's in the rearview, but the ABSURD spikes of adrenaline that I would get just from thinking about the day could NOT have been healthy.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? For Christmas Eve, we honestly just kind of lounged around. We watched a movie. Made the most mouthwatering slow-cooked beef tenderloin that I splurged on from the local butcher. Opened our one present and proceeded to not read them OR make hot chocolate.

For Christmas Day, we opened our gifts, opened the cat's gifts, then went and had Christmas at Nick's aunt's house. Other than his cousin getting engaged to someone that the entire family hates, it went well. 21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? We spent it inside. I made a pasta bake while Nick made the pirozki. Unfortunately, I didn't take enough lactaid to counteract the sheer amount of cheese in the pasta so I spent the hours leading up to midnight feeling NOT well, and then we drank sparkling water out of some fancy glasses instead of the wine I bought. 22. Did you fall in love in 2023? Okay, so it sounds trite, but yes? I mean, obviously I've been in love with him since 2012. But I don't know. It's different? I feel more at peace with it. Yes, I love him, but he picked me. We picked each other forever and then swore it in front of all of our favorite people. I didn't expect it to feel much different, and I mean, it's still mostly the same. We sleep in the same bed, we eat the same food, we love the same cats, we kiss each other, we make stupid fart jokes. But it's different. At least a little bit. 23. Best month for you this year? End of August/early September was amazing, mostly because of the trip (and the wedding). <This was my answer last year and the year before, but it still holds true, for obvious reasons.

24. What was your favorite TV program? Of just 2022? All right, so, favorites in (mostly) chronological order: Owl House season 3, Lockwood and Co, The Last of Us, Russian Doll season 2, Shadow and Bone season 2, Extraordinary Attorney Woo, Vox Machina season 2, The Diplomat, Queer Eye, Wheel of Time season 2, Interview with the Vampire, Fionna and Cake, The Fall of the House of Usher, Scavengers Reign, Loki season 2, Castlevania: Noctourne, Yu Yu Hakusho live action, One Piece live action, Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Of those, over all my favorite was Loki, hands down. The ENDING was just some of the best cinema I've seen at Marvel in YEARS. The score! UGH, it was perfection. Owl House season 3 was a close second.

Of just 2023, though? Probably Fionna and Cake. We honestly loved it so much. I think I ended up liking it more than I ever did Adventure Time.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? No hate! Well, at least no one that I know. At this point every active politician could get struck down by lightning and I would mourn very few of them.

26. What was the best book you read? Ugh, there were so many bangers this year. Honestly probably a tie between Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow and Tress and the Emerald Sea.

Honorable mentions: Starling House, A Power Unbound, A Day of Fallen Night, and Thistlefoot.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Hozier's new album has been a big part of my top 50. Oh, Epic the Musical has been an effing joy!

28. What did you want and got? A husband? Yeah, I'm gonna go with that. A husband. It's still weird to say.

29. What did you want but didn’t get? Ummmmmmmm, it's hard to say a honeymoon in Portugal because I am over the moon and not unappreciative of what we did do. But. I do REALLY wish that I'd gotten to see Portugal.

And on a more somber note, before we realized that my grandma was getting too bad to attend the wedding, I'd planned a dance with her. She always used to sing My Heart Will Go On to me when I was little, and I just, really wanted to have that. Instead, I played it for her the day that I said my goodbyes and showed her a picture of my dress. It was hard, but it was enough.

30. What was your favorite film of this year? I rewatched Lord of the Rings approximately a million times this year. Honestly most of the movies I DID watch were rewatches in some way or another. I loved Across the Spiderverse, the new Persuasion movie, and Nimona. Oh, and I watched Suzume in April and the Boy and the Heron for my birthday. All of those were amazing. Absolute top favorite was probably Suzume. Nimona is VERY close though. Same with Across the Spiderverse.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 34 this year! Which is great because I've had this whole weird thing where I was convinced that I would die at 33 since I was around 7 years old, so turning 34 was very nice. I did splurge a bit this year. We went to the Yuletide Village on Friday, which is basically the grounds for the Renaissance Festival done up in Christmas lights. I got to see Krampus! And Mari Lwyd! And drink hot cocoa! And buy a REALLY cool coat.

And then as if all that wasn't enough, on my actual birthday we booked a room at the bed and breakfast that our wedding was held at because they're selling it soon. We had good cheese and wine, got to revisit the pine chapel and dance all alone to our first dance song, then had dinner and walked around a lit up Granville. And then went back to our room at the B&B and did CENSORED things in my wedding dress (look, we were too tired that night and I had a fractured foot, it was a crazy day - leave me alone) and Nick surprised me with a birthday cake from the baker that we got our wedding cake from. It was nice. The breakfast the next morning was amazing.

And then we went to see The Boy and the Heron and had a relaxing Sunday. So you know, not a big deal at all. Definitely a far cry from last year where I, oh yes, covered for a coworker and then had to go to a company party at a restaurant that I hate.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Hm. Still Mal. 33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2023? Hahaha, my hybrid job turned into a completely remote job. Which is great in theory, but means that I spent most of 2023 in my pajamas without a bra. When I WASN'T in my pajamas, I tended towards jeans and t-shirts/sweaters. One of our friends got married in July though and I got to wear the COOLEST dress. 34. What kept you sane? Nick, usually. Rigby has been a huge help too. 35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? It was a good year for Hozier, imo. 36. What political issue stirred you the most? I have had “fuck Donald Trump” as the answer to this question since 2015. And for the first time in half a decade… it’s not him. It’s all the problems he left behind. So I guess it is still at least a LITTLE bit “FUCK DONALD TRUMP IN THE EAR 20156789 2023″

Actual answer to this question though - Gaza. Ukraine. And to a lesser extent- all of the bullshit corporate stooges trying to use AI to replace real workers. Also getting legitimately nervous about next year. Though Ohio DID turn out and voted to: not let the republicans fuck with majority rules, protect abortion rights, and legalized recreational marijuana. So, small wins, I guess.

37. Who did you miss? Mal. My brothers. My grandma. 38. Who was the best new person you met? I met this REALLY cool chick at the place I get my hair done. We bonded over her playing Zelda lofi in the hairwashing room and geeked out over Tears of the Kingdom. She's so freaking cool and I want to be her friend.

39. Talk about a new friend that you made this year: Other than her... I don't think I made any?

40. Post a picture from the beginning of the year: Technically from January 1st 2023 because I'm 90% sure that it was taken after midnight. We went to an INSANE warehouse party to ring in the New Year last year and were out much later than I wanted to be.

41. Post a picture from the end of the year From December 15th - which is apparently just the day that I get my hair done now. Since the wedding is over I finally committed to coloring my hair for the first time since 2020. It was long overdue and am excited to cut it short in the spring, but I actually think this is the first haircut where I miss the long hair?

42. A memorable meal discovered this year? Oh my GOD, that sherpa stew. We obviously had a lot of good food on our trip. Piroshky Piroshky was my favorite highlight from Pike's Place and then there was a restaurant in Salem, Oregon that had the BEST butternut squash soup and pulled pork that I have ever had. It was amazing. I would go back to Oregon for this soup alone.

But that sherpa stew. It cups my heart in its soupy little fist.

43. What was your favorite memory this year? Honestly, there were a lot of great moments this year. Obviously the wedding was the highlight, but the rest of it was pretty great too. The night of the Joe Hisaishi concert it stormed as the concert was finishing and since the venue was mostly outdoors, everyone got soaked. It was magical. The honeymoon highlights - the breathtaking awe of Mt Rainier, the beauty of the golden rays of the setting sun in the Hall of Mosses, the SIZE and GRANDNESS of Crater Lake. The drive up to Michigan to see Ghost Files live, how the drive there was this perfect little time capsule of autumn in the midwest, stormclouds on the horizon and corn fields all around us. The day after, when we stopped into Ann Arbor to visit the cherry store that's only in Michigan, how I found the BEST possible boots at a little store. How we found another amazing little independent book store just down the street. The way Nick's mom looked after the Cirque du Soleil Beatles show, where she turned to me and said that it was her best birthday ever. Dancing alone in the pavilion where we had our reception, crooning the song to each other in the dark while the lights from the pine chapel twinkled warmly at us from 20 feet away, beckoning.

And the wedding. Obviously the wedding.

The night before, where we had a private little ceremony at the stroke of midnight, there in the dark, nightsong all around us. Just us, our officiant, his brother, and my sister and her husband. My hair was damp and frizzy from the heat, from the helter skelter of the rehearsal earlier. He was in a t-shirt and slacks that were almost highwaters. But we read our vows to each other, sealed it with a kiss.

August 26th, 12:02am. A secret, just for us. Our siblings sworn to secrecy.

And then the next day, the note that was slipped under our door from our dear friend who officiated the wedding (both public and private), written on a torn bit of notebook paper: "May today be the first chaotic day of joy in a shared life full of chaotic joy." The breakfast: dutch baby with caramelized apples, sausage links, orange juice, earl grey. Watching Annie put together bouquets at the coffee table next to the kitchen. Going to work, putting tables together. Called back to the house, hair and makeup. Granola bars one and two. My girls singing Chapel of Love to me in the bridal suite, the swell of emotion in my heart - these are my people, they love me, they're so happy. First look, Nick's eyes, his smile. So familiar, that first almost wary glint, scared to look, scared he'll mess it up in front of the photographers, the way he smiled when he saw me, wide and real, almost a laugh, then the way it curled, lopsided, a bashful tilt to his mouth as he said my name. A hug. A moment of peace before the storm. A preying mantis on the porch railing, bumblebees buzzing around my skirt. Will I remember them in twenty years? In thirty?

Fast, fast, everything goes so fast afterwards. Separate. First look with dad, with girls, line up for the walk down the aisle, careful of the puddle. Listen for One Summers Day - they didn't get the song right and are playing the orchestral version instead of the piano. Instead of soft and sweet, there's brass in the pines, french horns ushering us to our spots. Wait wait, start walking - wedding party first. My dad is nervous next to me, he keeps fidgeting. Girls and groomsmen gone, glasgow love theme starts. I'm practically dragging my dad down the aisle. Annie warned me that everyone would stand, but it still catches me by surprise. Look up, bouquet tilted just so, don't trip on the roots. I don't even look at our guests, I don't check to see if my side looks lopsided without my family there, my eyes are on him, on Annie. My heart - I feel.

Ceremony goes fast. Seth reads Pablo Neruda. Tanya reads Neil Gaiman. My eyes are wet, I blink the tears back. Handfasting cords tied loosely, begin to get anxious about how I'm going to put the ring on with my hand tied, but Annie's already removing them. I put the ring on the wrong hand, a hot flash of shame gone in seconds, kiss kiss kiss- time for bubbles, walk.

Pictures. So many pictures. Go to bustle dress, granola bar 3. I choke on it. Back to the reception, big entrance. Too queasy to eat much, I picked at the bread, at the salad, at the chicken. Drank a ginger ale, left my martini untouched. Cake cutting, burst of sugar on the tongue, still queasy. Dancing soon - will I get it wrong? First dance- spun me a little too hard, but we laughed. I didn't feel the eyes on us. I fixed his glasses when they slipped down his nose, everyone laughed. Father-daughter dance, was it a mistake? Should have practiced, should have figured out how dads and daughters dance. Swayed. He kept me talking. Kept my mind off my nerves. Looking back on the wedding footage, everyone was crying. Mother-son dance, more tears. The sheer emotional whiplash of going from Baby Mine to Click Click Boom - but it's what his mom wanted, wanted to have the wedding party do the bernie. Cringy, but fine, we'll do it.

Group selfie on the dance floor, first couples dance dedicated to his grandparents - their anniversary was two days previous, so I found out what their song was and had the DJ play it for them. His grandpa cried. His grandma cried. I cried. The photographer cried. Next slow song, it's the song one of our groomsmen got married to - his wife already left, more tears because he's alone at the head table. Pulled away, golden hour photos. A dream. Beautiful. So queasy. Go back to the house to pee, almost vomit into the toilet, nearly black out. More photos. A moment of peace in the pines - they rickrolled everyone without me.

Dancing, how did I dance so much? Photographers leave. They're playing all my favorites now that we're back, too much dancing, need to sit down. Forgot about the bouquet toss, need to do it while I have the energy. So many people have left - make it gender neutral, get people up there. Whoever wants a bouquet. My best friend catches the bouquet. I hurl myself at her and almost take us to the ground. More dancing - where is Nick? Smoking cigars with his brother. More dancing. Someone gives me a martini, but I can only drink a few sips. So tired, my foot hurts, but another two hours to go.

We sing - Bohemian Rhapsody, Take On Me, The Time of My Life. Should we be embarrassed? Too happy. Sit, talk, make the rounds. More dancing.

Winding down. It's time, last two dances. Piano Man, the DJ makes everyone get in a ring around us, it's embarrassing, but god I'm so happy. Last dance, just us. Paradise Valley, crooning quietly to each other in the dark. Tears on my cheeks. On his. A kiss, no one can see, this one is just us.

Goodbyes, see you laters, can't find my phone, someone took it, need to find the phone, need to sit, need to get out of this stupid dress, my foot hurts. Bridesmaids taking charge, have things torn down and presentable in thirty minutes flat. More goodbyes, limp across the field with a groomsmen, still can't find my phone. Find my phone, take off the jewelry, get close to crying. Someone helps me upstairs? Or maybe I did it myself. Realize I can't get the dress off on my own. Think about crying. Foot hurts, why does it hurt so much? Officiant finds me, helps me take off my shoes. Unbuttons my dress for me, leaves it half on so she can figure out what's wrong with my foot. Oh, almost go into shock, oh, it's fractured. Go to the doctor? Honeymoon is in two days. She massages my aching shoulders, my feet. It's embarrassing, but she's an OT, she doesn't want me in pain.

Nick finds us, tired and drooping, but happy. Annie leaves. Sleep now? Yes, sleep. Hurting and more exhausted than we've ever been, but fuck, so happy. Such a good day. We did good.

44. What are you excited for next year? I am incredibly excited to no longer be planning a wedding. May buy a house. May go on a vacation. May quit my job. We'll see.

45. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2023: My valuable life lesson in the year of 2020 was: Life sucks. Keep your head on straight. Mourn your dead and love your living like you’ll never see them again. Live life like you could die tomorrow. And don’t take the little things for granted.

And you know what, I’m going to keep that. I think it’s a good reminder.

46. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: puff out your chest, take a deep breath you're gonna be okay if it's loud in your mind, just take your time you're gonna be okay - You're Gonna Be Okay, Ashh Blackwood

2018 me apparently quoted Singing in the Rain. 2019 quoted something sad and pretentious. 2020 me quoted This Year, because she was a dramatic bitch and hurting. 2021 me quoted an assurance that I wasn’t broken. 2022 me was tired and sad and just wanted to feel human again.

2023 me was a weird mess of anxiety, but mostly happy. The anxiety was a bitch, will always be a bitch. But this song kept me going.

#heather says what #year in review #2023 #new year's memes #tw: death #may have written an entirely too long stream of consciousness about the wedding #whoops

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