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victoria-grimesss · 9 months

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->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.

->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation.

->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.

It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground.

“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.

“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck.

Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.

Then there’s Ghost.

He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained.

I mean who wouldn’t.

From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more.

You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them.

—

You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.

“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.

“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”

He laughs.

“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?”

You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.

“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.

You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.

“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.

“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.

“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.

“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”

You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.

“Really? You think so?”

“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”

—

“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.

You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.

“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.

“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good.

He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.

“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.

Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.

“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.

“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”

“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.

“Yea, for sure LT.”

You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.

You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.

“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?”

Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.

Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.

—

Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation.

A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.

The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.

3:18 a.m.

You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight.

The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.

“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.

“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.

Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable.

“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.

“The usual, nightmares again. You?”

“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”

“I understand.”

You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.

He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.

“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.

You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.

His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What if I do?”

Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.

He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.

“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do I want Simon?”

His lips grow sealed when you say his name.

“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”

His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.

You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.

The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.

Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.

—

“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.

A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.

“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…

You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.

“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.

Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.

“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”

You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.

“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”

He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair,

“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”

You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.

“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?”

Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.

“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”

You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.

“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.

“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?”

Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.

“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.

“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.

“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.

Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.

“What do you all say to a game of pool?”

“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.

“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.

“Very well, see you momentarily.”

Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.

He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.

“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.

“Not exactly.” He delfates.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”

“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.”

Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.

You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.

“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.

“I was looking for you actually.”

He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.

“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”

You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.

“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”

“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-

“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”

It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.

“Y/N.”

“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”

He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.

“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”

You sniff, the cold getting to you.

“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”

Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.

“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”

“Even better.” You smile.

“Fuck it.”

Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.

He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.

He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.

“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.

“Yea, yea it is.”

He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.

“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”

“You did just now love.”

Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.

He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.

“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”

You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.

“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”

“Very.”

Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.

“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”

Hypnotized you speak.

“Yes please.”

His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.

The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.

“You have a nice place.”

“Well now I know you’re lying.”

You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent.

“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”

He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.

“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”

“Ghost.”

“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”

“Fuck Simon.”

“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.

He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.

“So fucking good love fuck.”

He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.

You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.

“Simon.”

“Yea?”

“Do something.”

“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.

“Anything Simon!”

He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.

“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”

His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla.

He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.

“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?”

He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.

He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.

You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.

“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”

He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.

You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I can take it, just hurry up.”

“You’re always so impatient you know that.”

He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.

The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”

His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.

He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.

He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.

“So good, fuck so big Simon.”

“You take it so well, love.”

His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.

“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”

You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.

“Alright c’mon love.”

He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.

“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.”

His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.

“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.

“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”

He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.

“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”

He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.

You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.

“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”

The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.

“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”

The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.

“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”

“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”

Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time.

You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.

“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.

You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.

You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.

You laugh.

“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.”

He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.

“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”

“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”

“Your place works too.”

You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.

You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.

He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.

“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”

“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”

There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.

“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”

“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”

He sips his beer,

“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”

You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.

---

Tag list: @theredviolets

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f6bron · 7 months

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sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol.

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile.

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit.

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs.

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

#f6bron #ITS SO ISOVERRRRR #valorant iso #valorant iso x reader #iso x reader #valorant imagines #li zhao yu #iso x y/n #iso x you #valorant fanfiction #iso headcanons #valorant x reader

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thegnomelord · 6 months

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#23 with male reader and soap. After a mission m!reader helps him clean himself in the shower maybe because soap got injured on the field or just really sore. And he washes off the blood/dust/dirt and helps dry him off and it turns into something kinda fluffy. I just wanna play with this man's stupid mohawk so bad.

Honestly me too, I just see that strip of hair and get the urge to tug on it, completely forgetting the man's fictional 😅 Ended up writing washing his hair and showering together because hyperfixation lol Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Washing their hair

CW: NSFW but no sex, non sexual nudity, M reader, showering together, hair washing, just fluffy fluffy fluff.

As much as you care about Soap, you've got to admit he's a bit of a dumbass, a reckless dumbass to boot. You tell him to be careful and what does he do? End up falling out of a second story window and rolling down a good 60 feet down a muddy hill while chasing after a target. You hear him swear the entire way down from where you're tucked away safely behind the sight of your sniper rifle.

By the time you get back to base Johnny feels as miserable as he looks, covered in so much mud you can't see his skin and his entire back wreathed in dull throbbing pain, not to mention the numerous cuts and scraps. And that's on top of Price chewing him out about safety and Ghost and Gaz teasing him the entire flight back to base.

"Not a word lad," He growls, giving you the stink eye. "Price already yapped me ear off." Soap turns to his heel in an attempt to head to the communal showers, biting his lip to stop himself from swearing out god, king, and country when his muscles scream at him.

"Wasn't going to." You stop him, one firm hand tugging on his bulletproof vest so you don't jostle him too much, though even that has drops of mud splashing on your clothes. "Come on, you can shower in my room."

He looks at you skeptically, but it doesn't take much to sway his mind when you offer him simple comforts; privacy, warm hands to wash away the days pains, a warmer body to remind him he's alive. He follows you without a word, neither one of you caring about the mud you track— tomorrow's problems.

"Foooock." The groan comes deep from his bones, perfectly encapsulating all he feels as you methodically unclip his gear, taking the world's weight off his shoulders and dropping it haphazardly on the bathroom's tiled floor. "Feel like a fockin' hog," He frowns.

"Look like you rolled in a pig sty." You helpfully supplement, receiving a few words in Gaelic which you don't even attempt to understand, though the humor in his tone is crystal clear even when you take hold of the bottom of his shirt; the mud and grime had gone through every layer of clothing, leaving not a single inch of skin clean.

He attempts to raise his arms to help you, only to suddenly yell out a "Oh ye fockin' cunt!" when pain flares from his shoulder down the entire length of his spine. You swear you hear his spine crack at least a dozen times by the time you pull his shirt off his mud wet skin.

"You sound like an old geezer." You chuckle to lighten the mood, dropping to your knees to untie his shoelaces and take off his boots, then the rest of his clothes.

"Says the bloke who's left knee tells the weather." He bites back, a bit of teeth on display as he grimaces, another few curses leaving his lips when he has to lower his arm. "Or tries to, yer got as much accuracy as the bloody reporters on the telly."

"Starting to complain like one too," You add, not at all surprised when Soap proceeds to brush his muddy hand across your face. "Of you fucker," Your words gain a childish little giggle from him, and he lets you guide him into the shower.

Your bathroom's one of the few that has a tub in it —a relic of past tenants before the army remodeled the base into an actual military installation— you had to bribe Price with a lot of high quality cigars to get it, but every penny was worth it. There's a tap as well as a detachable showerhead up top that Johnny eagerly uses, turning the water hot and just standing under the stream while you disrobe.

The clean water turns muddy the second it hits his skin, brown muck swirling around your feet as you step into the tub behind him. "How's that sweetheart?" You ask, taking the soap bottle and squirting a heavy amount onto your hands, not bothering with a sponge and instead using your fingers to wash away the dirt on his skin.

"Heaven." Johnny sighs, his muscles fluttering beneath your hands, mud and blood washing away to reveal deep blooming bruises across his back. "Shite, that hits the spot." He leans against you, the slow but firm pressure of your fingers massaging the sore muscles around the blotchy bruises making him groan. You lean in to place gentle kisses on the darkest bruises, "So good fer me bonnie," he hums, using his arms the best he can to at least wash the mud off his face.

You two float in a sort of mindless space where nothing outside the shower matters, the sound of water running and Soap's occasional groan filling your ears, all your focus on the way your hands rub him down; from shoulders to his back, down to his feet and then back up to his face when he turns around.

Once the water runs clear again you turn off the shower and start the tap so the tub fills with enough water to keep him warm, maneuvering him to sit in the tub while you step out to dry yourself off and put on boxers.

"Don't need ta be pampered like a show mutt," He grumbles, the hot water easing the soreness in his frame and making his exhaustion prominent, Johnny's eyelids starting to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake.

"I know, but you hair's a damn crow's nest." You snort, running your fingers through the mess on his head and showing the gunk stuck on your fingers, hell, you even pull a damn twig out.

His eyes widen, "Well fock me," Soap grimaces, gives a bone deep sigh as you settle behind him, sitting partially on the tub. Cupping water in your palms you rub your fingers down the length of his mohawk, loosening the dirt sticking to the strands until rivulets of watery mud run down his neck.

"Maybe later." You both chuckle, squirting the shampoo Soap always loves to smell on you in your hand and lathering your palms up before bringing them back to his hair. Soap mumbles something, leaning his head into your hands whenever you scratch a particularly itchy spot on his scalp.

His head tips back as much as his aching shoulders let him, his eyes settling on your face. I got it made, he thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep his eyelids open so he can see how you focus on even a simple task like washing his hair. Every brush of your fingers across his dirty strands fills his chest with lingering warmth, every scratch of your nails across his scalp making his eyes droop just a bit more.

Johnny doesn't even notice the slight sting when you occasionally tug on a knot, your touch making his mind buzz pleasantly like the low background static of a TV on late nights, and Soap doesn't realize he's dosing off.

You notice how he leans against your leg, leaning over to see his eyes closed and chest steadily rising and falling. You let him sleep for a bit while you finish up cleaning his hair and then use the detachable shower head to wash the bubbly shampoo off.

"What is'it?" He mumbles when you gently shake him awake, eyelids fluttering open and shut.

"Need you to get up Johnny." You hum and it's laughable how easily he follows your instructions, needing a bit of help to stand up when his back still aches like hell, a shiver racing down his spine as the cold air of your bathroom nips at his skin. "Fock, do'ah look like a snowman?" He grumbles at the cold.

You chuckle instead of saying anything, silencing any other complaints with sweet kisses on his lips as you towel him dry.

Soon after you two are huddled under the covers, his body draped over yours and using your chest as a pillow. Your fingers card through his slightly damp hair, the soft brown strands like feathers against your skin and your touch making him sigh and melt against you.

"Hey lad?" He suddenly says, voice a gentle whisper; like he's about to reveal a secret kept from the world — something only meant for you.

"Yeah Johnny?" You ask, a few stars reflecting in his blue eyes from your window.

Your heart melts at the soft and goody smile he gives you, "Love you." he says, leaning his head into your hand that's in his hair.

You smile and lean your head to kiss him, "Love you too," You mutter against his lips, and when you pull away he's already drifted off to sleep like a babe, soft breath tickling your skin and arms possessively wrapped around your waist like you'll disappear.

But you catch the way he smiles in his sleep.

#Gnome's prompt game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #top male reader #male reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #sub character #sub john soap mactavish #fluff #so much fluff

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waynewifey · 9 months

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Well, can you write a batman x fem!reader where the reader is a super hero (like catwomans superhero version or smth) and they just keep meeting at crime scenes and always flirt and stuff and end up dating?

obsessed much? — b.w blurb

summary: request above!

pairing: bruce wayne x superhero!reader

warnings: murder; hero wears acape

word count: 360

A/N: hii tysm for this request! i haven’t been writing much lately since my ‘aftermath’ fic, so this isn’t as big as you probably wanted, it just really made me want to write it as a blurb. maybe i’ll write a full fic about it later. also, i know a lot of people hate cape-wearing heroes but i absolutely love the goofy cliche, so i had to add that in. let me know what you guys think!

he’s kneeling near the body with the putrid smell of blood flowing into his nostrils. the puzzle pieces are coming together, but there’s still a big one missing. the shadows devours him into the room. what isn’t he seeing? slowly, the sound of heels hitting the ground approach his back.

“i thought heroes didn’t do investigations.” the first reply is a scoff, then the cape rustling.

“i don’t,” she says, “but this one hits home.” bruce turns around to stare the deep round eyes, one of the few things he could see underneath her mask. her suit fits perfectly in her curves, the stretchy and non-flammable fabric accommodating her fight needs. perfect for running around town. it wasn’t bulletproof, though, because the stone-hard skin was all the protection she needed. the cape was just for fun. “i saved this dude from a train wreck last week. thought it was a malfunction, it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way anymore.”

“you think someone is targeting you.” she hums in response, a chill running down her spine. all she wanted to do was to use her gifts for the good of the city. somehow, that ended up with the total of four murders so far.

“they want to get my attention, i just don’t know why.” a pout appears in her puffy lips. he wonders what they feel like. he takes the plastic gloves off, staying with the leather ones, and lays them on the floor.

“who wouldn’t?” as he gets up, a snarky grin lightens her face up. they’ve always been this good in making the other forget the bodies in the room. literally.

“obsessed much?” one step in his direction leaves them inches apart. he still thinks it’s way too far. the height difference has her looking up, batting her eyelashes. “maybe you’re the killer, batboy.”

“it’s batman.” his voice is baritone and raspy, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks. one move and his hands would be on her. her heart beats shamelessly on her chest, like drums inside her body. his gaze is so penetrating she has to look away before answering.

“right. cute.”

#battinson #battinson x you #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #batman x you #the batman #batman #robert pattinson x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne insert #bruce wayne #dc universe

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monsteractialuna · 3 months

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So I'm a massive fan of demon aus and stuff so i ummm made my own demon au 👉👈

I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to write a fic or not for this,, I plan on maybe writing a few chapters, see if I vibe with it, and then post it or leave it in the abyss depending on how I feel when I'm done.

You are a freelance demon hunter with an odd relationship in regards to the demons you hunt. You allow those who kill criminals or the scum of the Earth to go free but hunt and kill those who harm the innocent. You never thought that your work would follow you home, and you certainly never thought that your work would wake you up every morning with pancakes and waffles. Who taught these demons to work a stove?

Some fun facts about the characters and stuff below the read more :)

-Y/n was raised by a demon, hence why they have such an odd relationship with demons. Y/n views them more as people who can make mistakes and less like evil creatures from hell. Y/n allows demons that kill horrible people to live because their Mother was one of those demons, often targeting abusive spouses and partners.

-Sun and Moon used to be one entity but had split decades ago due to a disagreement. They hadn't seen each other since the split until they both broke into Y'n's house.

-Y/n has lost several limbs during their hunts; but since they're on good terms with multiple demons they are always patched back up and made "whole" again. Y/n's mother is constantly on the verge of tearing their face off from stress.

-Since Sun is a plasma demon his body runs extremely hot. He has to maintain constant control of his body temperature or he risks burning everything around him. He also has to control the brightness of his body as if he gets too excited he WILL blind people. Sun smells like ozone before a lightening strike.

-Moon is a demon made entirely of frigid cold water, so just like Sun he has to work to control his body temperature. His natural temperature is extremely cold but if he gets too upset the water that makes up his body could solidify turning to ice. He can freeze the water in the air around him easily. He smells like the ocean during winter.

-Y/n is one of the only demon hunters capable of locking demons into objects. If they cannot kill a demon they will imprison them into an object and keep them in a locked room inside their house. They often put Sun and Moon inside a plasma ball and a snow globe when the two start fighting. Gay demon jail.

-Y/n is capable of using their mother's demonic magic, which is how they are so proficient during hunts. Mother's magic is plant based and helps Y/n control roots, vines, and other flora in their surroundings. The bracelet they wear signifies the bond the two have and Y/n can communicate with their mother through that bond. The bracelet can only be removed if the bond is severed, either through one party dying, both parties agreeing to sever said bond, or a strong enough desire to break free of the bond in some cases.

-Bonds between a demon and a human can come in a few flavors, romantic bonds are symbolized through the demon's solidified magic turning into a ring, familial or friendly bonds are symbolized with a bracelet, and forced bonds are symbolized via a collar around the victims throat.

-Vanessa is Y/n's protegee, after Y/n helped save Vanessa from a forced bond from a demon Vanessa decided she wanted to become a demon hunter to get revenge on the demon who enslaved her. Vanessa doesn't fully believe that demons aren't just evil creatures from hell, but does trust Y/n's judgement.

-The other animatronics are also demons! Y/n is friends with most of them :) Roxanne is a demon that specifically hunts human traffickers, Chica is a demon who hunts people that dump waste into the environment illegally (and then proceeds to consume the dump to ensure the environment isn't too badly effected), Freddy and Bonnie hunt down child abusers and often work as a team to do it, and Monty hunts poachers and exotic animal traffickers.

-Moon falls for Y/n first and falls fast. The minute y/n kicked his ass the first time he was down bad. He makes himself a nuisance to Y/n because he isn't entirely sure how to process these feelings and decides to makes it everybody else's problem. Sun originally just wanted to be friends but as time went on he realized he was falling for Y/n too. While Moon fell in love with you for your ferocity during hunts, Sun falls for your kindness and understanding towards those affected by other demons. Sun absolutely adores your passion and need for justice and it literally makes him swoon.

#my art #fnaf au #dca au #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #dca x reader #I've been putting off uploading these because i was gonna make a doodle page to go along with it but i realized i could make and post that #anytime so umm yeah #if u want to ask me questions about my au pls fucking do because it gives me a reason to actually think about it #designs aren't entirely final i love changing shit as i go <3 #didn't mean to write so much for the fun facts but i got distracted sorry

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gojoidyll · 30 days

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HELLOOO i just read ur topaz x reader x aventurine post and i rlly love it!! can i request for a part 2 plspslsp? it could be anything :3 if u want hehe :D thank u!!

A part 2 <3

part 1 link

The Good Days, The Bad Days, and Everything In-Between

Topaz x Reader x Aventurine

The Good Days

Everything is fun and games with Aventurine on the good days.

He loves to tease both you and Topaz most of all.

Though, you’re the better one to tease (in other words, the easier target)

Hates it when you ignore him and must have your attention at all times

Topaz, on the other hand, enjoys the good days to the best of her abilities

Likes to have that time to relax and hear about anything and everything that you have to say to her

Will pout and plot on ways to get you to notice her if you are too busy with Aventurine

All in all

These days, these good days, were the days that were the most fun when you three spent them together

The Bad Days

You try your best to cheer the both of them up especially if the mission or assignment was particularly rough on them.

And if one of them snaps at you?

They are immediately apologizing

Aventurine wouldn’t be able to survive if he watched you cry because of what he said to you.

And Topaz?

She hates seeing you upset.

All you were trying to do was lighten up their day and what did they do?

Yell at you, call you clingy, and take you for granted because you tend to be at home more times than they are.

(yes you work for the IPC and have an equally taxing job as they do, but they tend not to see that on their bad days)

Though it’ll all be alright because they will do anything and everything in their power to make you smile again.

And the bad days suddenly turn good.

The In-Between Days

Anything goes on days like these

The three of you are either:

Working

Sleeping

Or planning dates and ways to hang out and spend your time together

Though there are the rare days when you three go off and do your own thing

Aventurine will either be gambling, making “new friends,” or enjoying his free time with other activities he deems enjoyable.

Topaz will either be spending it with numby or go out sight seeing (she always gets distracted by the cute animals she tends to pass by or find)

And you? Well, the in-between was always a 50/50 with you.

You never knew if it would be bad or good.

Sometimes life would suffocate you. And other times you would be able to hide the suffocation.

You always thought you were good at hidings these feelings and insecurities away when Topaz and Aventurine weren’t around.

Because honestly, you really did think you were clingy and that they needed space from you. So you would try your best to stay inside in hopes of not running into them.

It was the least you could do.

Though, little did you know, was that they would save you from yourself on these in-between days more times than you could count.

Because you are everything to them just as they are everything to you.

#hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #topaz x reader #topaz x y/n #topaz x you #topaz

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deonsx · 8 months

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Request again! I’m so sorry for requesting fast. You’re the only one who accepts my request.

Can you do a s/o that really powerful? Like have a really strong ability yet she keep it secret, and after 2 years of dating they finally found out after they got attacked by enemy organization? Fyodor, Jouno and Tecchou?

Sorry, it’s too detail. I just can’t hold my happiness after you accepted my request! You just lightens my entire day! <3

This message made me very happy! I haven't been able to write for a long time because I've been busy. I will be online as much as I can and feel free to share your requests with me!

Feat: Dazai, Fyodor, Jouno, Tecchou

A S/o Who Surprises Them With Her Power

Summary: Since you couldn't control your ability since you were little, it's been hurting people and now it's time to use it

Dazai Osamu

It was an ordinary day, until the agency was attacked by the port mafia. Under normal circumstances, you don't have to worry because the agency can handle this on its own or you can provide some help from time to time, but they are really so small that they cannot be felt

But suddenly everything changed, the whole team went to different areas and tasks on different calls and you were currently handling some file work at the agency with your boyfriend. "Bella bella, look at your luck, there are only two of us left!!"

You rolled your eyes at his affectionate speech, a quick explosion shook the agency as you laughed, "What's going on!?" You asked as you ran away from the shaking building. When you finally landed on the street, Port Mafia's men surrounded you. Dazai's ability was useless right now, so what were we supposed to do?

You thought maybe we could get away, but you heard a gunshot and saw your boyfriend get shot in the arm as he pulled to protect you. “Damn!” Osamu whimpered in pain, it's happening again, someone gets hurt whether you use that ability or not, You forced yourself to focus.. I think it was finally time for you to use that ability. The ground suddenly started shaking and everything started shaking like a big earthquake. "What's going on? We should notify the boss!" The voices of the men across the street filled your ears, "We are retreating!" But no, you couldn't let them escape, especially when they injured the man you loved most, you tried to control your strength and caused a huge crack to open in the ground. All the sounds were the men's screams

When everything was over, you looked at your boyfriend, but your eyes were trembling, it meant a lot to you that he was hurt. "Y/o you.." the brunette looked at you with his eyes, ignoring the bullet in his arm. "I-I really didn't mean for it to happen like this.." your boyfriend's serious face quickly softened and His hand caressed your hair, "Shh, everything is over.." he placed kisses on your hair and said that this is what you have been afraid of all this time "I would never blame you, my beloved"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

As usual, you were at the computer desk and writing a lot of reports, but your boyfriend still hadn't returned home, you felt a slight fear, you knew how strong the man was, but where was he right now?

Out of curiosity, you left him calls on the phone, but since there was no response, he quickly became worried, but you remained cool and decided to leave the house and go to work. As you started to approach the workplace with your car, you saw that the building was on fire. You panicked, stopped the car right there and quickly got out

You quickly examined the building and walked around it. When you reached the dead end, you heard the sound of pointing a gun behind you. "So it's you? Our target was your boyfriend, but you wouldn't be a good reward?" Looking at the men next to you they laughed at each other and took steps towards you your head pushed you to do the first thing that came to your mind and you quickly summoned your ability

The surrounding buildings shook rapidly and covered the street behind which was their escape area. You couldn't control your strength when you were nervous, you quickly picked up a large piece from the ground and threw it on the men and everywhere turned into dust and smoke.. as the voices became quieter, you slowly knelt down and tried to catch your breath in the dusty air

There was a sound of walking behind the smoke and fog. You tried to gather yourself against the enemy, but you saw a familiar face. "Fyodor..?" you called out to him with your light voice "What happened here..you were supposed to be at home s/o" fyodor did not hide his surprise at the unexpected event "I-I was just worried.." fyodor increased his steps towards you and knelt down and put his hand on your chin "How long have you been hiding from me.. .Why are you hiding my love?”

"I didn't want you to see me like that, I can't even control myself” Those light purple eyes narrowed and finally closed while taking a deep breath "I understand.. you must be tired, let's go home, dear”

Jouno Saigiku

The two of you were finally having a leisurely breakfast at a cafe. It wasn't easy to convince him because he kept saying "We have to work", "We have work to do, we can't take a break", "We can't relax", but eventually you convinced him and you were having a comfortable breakfast with him and there was a beautiful happiness on his face. "You're so happy... all we do is run away from work"

"You're whining all the time, enjoy the moment, jouno..." You muttered to him while he was eating his food by himself. While you were both eating your meals, there was an explosion from the next building, your office building, and the whole cafe shook. "What is this!?" Jouno shouted as he quickly stood up, you both fled the cafe and ran towards the explosion at work

You looked at the building that turned into a battlefield and you both looked at each other and ran into the building. The fog was making it difficult to see around you as you covered your nose due to the smoke. When you came across the corpses of the people working with you inside, you looked at your boyfriend in fear. "They.." Jouno spoke without letting the frustration out. "We have to find the boss! We don't have time!"

You probably ran towards the locked door, but neither of you could open the door due to your efforts. "Jouno! blood!" you said blood coming from under the door, as your boyfriend smelled the blood a voice was heard from behind "I think someone lost their direction" you turned your head towards the male voice "S/o! stay behind me!" Your boyfriend spoke as he drew his sword defensively towards the man

The enemy in front of you quickly took his hand to the metal gun and sabotaged your boyfriend's gun. "It's such a shame to be looked down upon.." you brought your hand up to the man as his steps approached you and quickly threw them back to save yourself and your boyfriend from the situation. The man quickly ran away from the flying table coming towards him from you. "Wow! "I didn't know, look, my fun is going to get even bigger" your boyfriend paused for a moment in confusion but then quickly overpowered him while his mind wandered

When all the events stopped, you and Jouno were in front of the collapsed building. "Why did you feel the need to hide it from me, s/o?" your silence was eerie but understandable to him "I would have supported you if you had told me..please don't let this happen again"

Tecchou Suehiro

It was a tiring day. When you woke up, your boyfriend was not in your bed. You realized that he was doing his usual training with the sound of breathing coming from the living room. You lifted your quilt, leaned against the door of the living room with your cotton nightgown, and looked at your boyfriend doing push-ups

You watched his half-naked body move up and down. The dirty thoughts that came to your mind quickly went away and you let your voice reach his ear. "Who is this handsome man? And he is in my house, am I in a dream?" Tecchou slowly stopped and crossed his legs, turning to you and giggling, "hahh, it's a really fresh morning" he smiled at you, making the serious expression on his face disappeargf

You had breakfast together and left the house and your boyfriend decided to walk you instead of driving "ahhhh I hate this sports stuff!" tecchou was continuing on his way ignoring you. When you heard the building next to you being combed with guns, a serious look appeared on both of your faces, "s/o go around that side! We have to protect the innocent!"

You both separated to the sides and you used your strength to push a pregnant woman away from the rock that came towards her. While doing this, you felt someone running towards you from behind and you quickly turned around and activated your power. The ground quickly split open and the person who came disappeared in an instant

When it was all over you saw your boyfriend running to you yelling "s/o! are you okay!? how did this crack in the floor form?" he asked you looking confused and kneeling down he waited for an answer from you the serious expression on his face scared you "It's just..while I wanted to protect.." tecchou's face followed you around slightly and when he took you under his cloak you saw the serious expression on my face looking at you with low soft eyes, He left a long kiss on her head, "Darling, no one should know about this but us, I will protect you”

Enjoy!

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harlowcomehome · 8 months

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Daddy-daughter dates:

Requested by thee amazing @killatravtramp.

Summer break was finally coming to a close, Hazel and Jade were both going to start school in two days and you and Jack had been having a tough time with it.

“I can’t believe how quickly summer went” you sighed, filling both of the girl's backpacks with their required school supplies.

“Just yesterday we were swimming in the backyard getting sunburned” Jack joked trying to lighten the mood.

“YOU were getting sunburned” You emphasized the word “you” making him laugh so hard he snorted as he walked over to help you.

As you shoved a pencil case into Hazel's bag you checked the time.

“Don’t forget I have my nail appointment at nine.”

“Don’t worry I have a day planned out for me and the girls” Jack hummed, his dimple prominent as you watched him proudly confess that to you.

“Jack Harlow? Thee Jack Harlow made a plan? Hell is freezing over!” You teased earning a playful swat on the butt. His long arms eventually wrap around you from behind. He leaned his head on your back.

“You know how I am” he shrugged.

“I know my love, your whole life is scheduled. I was just joking.”

“I love you” he sighed, feeling understood.

“I love you too” You leaned into him as he kissed your neck.

“I’m going to take the girls out for a daddy-daughter date. Coffee, target, the library, lunch, and probably some stuff in between.”

“Sounds good! Maybe I’ll get my toes done too” you wiggled your toes that were flat on the ground.

“You probably should” he made a grotesque face for dramatics making you giggle as the girls finally came into the living room dressed to go.

“Where are we going?” Hazel questioned as she walked over to you both.

“Starbucks first” Jack smiled, knowing both girls would love that answer.

“Starbies!!” Jade giggled jumping up and down.

“Be safe. I love all of you so much!” You gave everyone and hug and kiss, reminding Jack that if he needed to call for security not to hesitate.

He made sure to give you a memorable kiss goodbye before following Hazel and Jade out of the house.

The girls were always excited to spend time with the both of you, but spending alone time with Jack always came few and far between especially with his schedule.

“Can we get breakfast too?” Hazel asked as she helped Jade into her seat.

“Do you want breakfast from Starbucks or somewhere else?”

“Starbies!” Jade repeated.

“That works!” Hazel nodded at her dad through the rearview mirror.

“I thought we could go to Starbucks, target, and maybe the library today,” Jack told them the plan to see if they were interested in it.

“I love the lie berry!” Jade kicked her feet excitedly.

“Targets my favorite!” Hazel giggled and Jack knew he had planned the perfect day.

After getting their Starbucks order, Jack pulled into Target. He helped both girls out of the car, instructing them to hold hands as he looked around nervously.

“I don’t see anyone looking at us Daddy” Hazel hummed, knowing that her dad was always on high alert when he went out.

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of guilt that she already knew the routine and how he felt about it all.

Jade sat inside the shopping cart and Hazel held onto it as they browsed the aisles. He put a few sports bras and pajamas in the cart that he knew you’d like before taking the girls to the toy aisle.

“I’d really like to have one of those” Jade mumbled as she pointed to the stack of squishmallows.

Hazel yanked a mushroom out of the stack, “Daddy can we get squishmallows?”

“You can each pick one” he smiled, Jade excitedly stood up wobbling in the cart as Jack rushed behind her to ensure she didn’t fall.

“Which one do you want Jadey? I’ll get it” Hazel motioned for her little sister to sit down.

“Hims!” Jade pointed to a goat squishmallow that was sitting on top of the pile. Hazel couldn’t reach it so Jack pulled it down and into the cart with Jade.

“Unique choice” Jack wiggled his eyebrow making the girls giggle. As he handed Jade her goat squishmallow, he and Jack had matching goatees.

Jack walked up and down the aisles with the girls, pushing the cart. He knew they loved coming here and truthfully he didn’t mind it either. He restocked on protein powder and some snacks.

It wasn’t long until he realized he had been spotted, feeling a sixth sense of some sort.

“Daddy, those ladies in the corner are watching you” Hazel whispered but Jack had already seen them. It was almost weirder to him when someone didn’t approach him and only watched from a distance.

“Let’s get some water at the check out and go somewhere else.” He smiled, trying his best to hide his panic. If he was alone he wouldn’t feel so strongly but being with his kids brought out the fight or flight in him.

Hazel grabbed the water bottles and helped her dad at self-checkout. The young girl who oversaw the checkout area recognized Jack immediately knowing he came here with the girls a lot.

“How’re you doing today Mr. Harlow?”

Jack flashed her a smile, “I’m having a good day with my girls. How’re you?”

“Good!” She smiled before realizing the gawking ladies had come up closely behind him.

“Ladies, self-checkout is full. We ask that you stand back at least six feet from each customer, thank you!” She gave Jack a subtle wink as the ladies did what they were told.

Jack practically jogged to the car, throwing everything in there quickly and rushing to get the girls in it.

“Library?” Jade asked excitedly. She took after Jack in that aspect, she liked to read (what she could) and look at the picture books.

“Of course!” Jack smiled, wiping the sweat dripping off his forehead with his forearm. He checked the parking lot thoroughly before putting the car in reverse.

“I don’t see the ladies anymore Daddy. Don’t worry” Hazel knew he was looking around to make sure they didn’t follow.

When the three of them got to the library Jade ran over to the children’s books immediately making Jack chuckle as Hazel stayed by his side.

The library was usually quiet and rarely busy, which was a nice change.

“You can go look at books, I’ll be right here” Jack pointed to a wooden table that was in the middle of the room. He could see them from where he was sitting so he wasn’t concerned.

Hazel went with Jade up and down most of the rows of books. The two of them found a few to look at, bringing them over to where Jack was sitting.

“Read please?” Jade handed Jack a cute cartoon book about crocodiles who cry.

Hazel and Jade loved when their dad read them stories, he gave each character its own voice and acted out a lot of the scenes.

Jack motioned for them to follow him to the bean bag chairs that were laid out against the corner of the room, and he sat down with them and read to them both.

“I want a crocodile now” Jade giggled as Jack closed the book and set it to the side.

“We can’t have a pet crocodile! Daddy barely likes Lucky!”

“I love Lucky! Even when he chews up my socks” Jack groaned making the girls laugh.

“I’m having fun today” Hazel smiled. “I hate that we have to go back to school already.”

“I know Hazey, summer flew by.”

“I don’t wanna go to school. So, I won’t” Jade shrugged, hopping up from the bean bag.

Jack thought he’d save the “you have to” spiel for another day knowing he didn’t want to ruin the momentum of the day. He waved his hand and motioned for Hazel not to correct her either.

“Are you girls hungry?” Jack checked the time realizing a majority of the day had already flown by.

“I’m always hungry!” Jade grabbed Jack's hand and held it as they walked back to the car.

“I was thinking we could eat at Silvio's?”

Both girls squealed, clapping their hands and cheering, which was the exact response Jack had hoped for.

Silvios was an Italian restaurant that the girls were obsessed with and considering Jade was so picky, the options were limited of where they could go today.

Jack had a good relationship with the owner, texting them about a private room and getting an immediate yes.

When the three stepped inside the restaurant and were seated Jack had them pose for a photo and quickly sent it to you.

“They are so cute! Wait, Silvios? I’m so jealous. Jade is probably 50% pasta from there.”

Jack chuckled at your reply, knowing that when you were pregnant with Jade you made him pick up a lot of pasta from here.

He had wondered if you had ever told the girls that story.

“Did mommy ever tell you that when you were in her belly she always wanted pasta from here?” Jack turned to Jade who was pretending to look at the menu.

“No?” Jade giggled. “Maybe that’s why I like it so much!”

“Maybe!” Jack chuckled. “And you’re probably made up of grandma's cherry cheesecake” he scrunched his nose at Hazel, who he knew hated that cheesecake.

“Yucky! I don’t like cherry cheesecake!” She giggled realizing that maybe she had the opposite effect than her sister.

After they ordered Jack watched the two of them interacting back and forth. He was quiet, just observing until Hazel noticed he was watching.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” Hazel was concerned, looking at his face for some sort of emotion.

“Nothing bug” Truthfully they reminded him of him and Clay.

“Promise?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Promise Hazey, did you have a good day today?”

“We both did!” Jade answered for her making Jack and Hazel laugh at the same time.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #Jack Harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb

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anlian-aishang · 1 year

Text

He could feel you staring. And indeed, you were. God, you sighed to yourself, he was so fucking beautiful.

tags: levi x reader, angst, smut, hurt-comfort, gun mention, injury descriptions, self-sacrificial thoughts, caretaking, insecurity [felt by levi], body worship, canonverse, fem!reader.

word count: 5400

It was a miracle you found them, even more miraculous that Hange did not snipe you first. Over the barrel of the gun, their hazel eyes ran bloodshot. A murderous, fight-or-flight fear you had never seen on the commander’s face. If not for the moonlight that outlined your surrendering hands, surely, you would have joined the two corpses on the ground between you both.

“Hange!!” Your frantic scream scared sleeping birds off their branches. Flaps of their wings matched the spasms in your nerves. “It’s me!”

Your ears picked up the graze of metal as their finger twitched along the trigger. Eyes focused in to meet theirs in promise. Your jaw fell further, not at the proximity between you and death, but at the single tear that slid down their cheek. Trauma spilling over Hange’s bright and bubbly facade.

They lowered the rifle with a sigh, one you could see in the thick white cloud of their breath. With an exhausted exhale, beneath their hood, they offered.

“Do you want to see him?”

// // //

Hange walked slower than you would have liked. On the other hand, they probably thought you were going too fast. They had not had the time to blink, let alone sleep, in days. It was what you reminded yourself as you dampened your pace for their sake, the sedative to your aching legs, yearning to sprint to him.

They made intentional small talk, asking how your intelligence missions were going - wondering if you had a good grasp on what the Yeagerists were up to. Of course, it was all pointless now. Obviously, Floch and his faction had succeeded. The end of the world had already started.

The commander could tell, and you knew that they could. They would not ask you such blatantly meaningless questions, unless there was something to hide.

“Hange,” your voice was deathly low, “just tell me.” Eye contact deliberately, mutually avoided. “How bad is it?”

Another heavy sigh. Twigs crunched beneath boots. A silence that felt like forever, that almost spoke for itself. Hange looked to the starry sky above, and for a moment, your heart sank. Is he…?!

Hange shot you a smirk, pained but genuine. “He’s a tough lil guy, isn’t he?”

He’s alive.

“Anyone else would be sauteed to bits, and to be honest -” Hange parsed, “- I still can’t figure out how he made it.”

Sauteed. Fire? Bits. An explosion?

“I can only think -” they gave a loose tug of their hair tie, “- it’s because he’s an Ackerman.”

You had not put it all together, but the bloodstained patch of grass, the worn handle with lone fingers attached, the bodies of former comrades rotting outside - all the traces you tracked along your journey here painted an awfully vivid picture. Through those tiny details, you constructed the larger story. Levi had been targeted, and if not for Hange’s intervention, your partner would have been murdered by either Zeke’s or the Yeagerists’ hands.

Yet, in the commander, you could sense a tremendous guilt. Blinded by Levi’s current critical condition, or perhaps the recent killings of their subordinates, they saw themselves as no hero. Finally, you recognized why Hange was slugging along: a delay. Conscious or not. Procrastinating the revelation of the new Levi to his old lover.

While they wallowed in their own failures, you only saw their successes. Each trudge of their steps against the earth felt heavy, you longed to lighten them, to have Hange see themselves as the savior they were.

“No, Hange.” A gentle hand to their back. They startled, then soothed, at your touch. “It’s because of you.”

With hesitation, they finally met your gaze. Their skin a staunch pale even in this pitch black night. A stark frown, regrets within. And Levi would not have liked that.

“He’s alive, not because of his last name, but because of you.” Your delicate touch morphed to a fierce grip, shaking them. “Hange, please,” clenched teeth, quivering lip, “you know that, right?”

Certainly, they were smart enough to know that.

Hange pushed a single finger to their glasses, “Y…Yeah.”

“Hange.” Your smile was both sincere and serious. You clutched their hand with both of yours and squeezed, “Thank you.”

They cleared their throat and swallowed, an awkward, guilty laugh. “Maybe you should save your thanks until you see him.”

// // //

Nauseous with both fright and excitement. Anxious as you anticipated touching him, counterbalanced with the fear of causing him further pain. Relief as you watched his chest rise and fall. Disheartened at how labored those breaths were. The emotions you felt at his sight, all but indescribable.

Considerate as you always were - even to your own detriment - it was what everyone loved about you, especially him. Knowing how defeated Hange felt, and in the wake of all the reassurance you had provided them on your walk, you knew all your comforting efforts would have been dismantled if you started to break down. Subduing yourself, you clenched fists at your sides and dug your nails into your palms. Trembling lip dipped beneath your teeth, biting down to still. Toes curled within your leather boots, stabling yourself as knees began to buckle.

Witnessing your reunion, emotions were contagious to Hange. They artificially lifted their voice and offered instructions - a thin veil of distraction. “Well!” Hange gleamed, “He’s been out for a couple hours now, ever since Eren's… well, you know.”

That was one way to put it.

“I really have no idea when he’ll wake up, but he will.” Hange promised. “If he doesn’t get up on his own, you may have to help him. Bandages need changing in a few.”

Bandages? You had yet to notice until then. Upon entering the camp, you froze the moment you saw him. At that distance, he was just a bundle of blankets. You brought your sleeve to your eyes and wiped away the blur, and only then did you see the gauze that engulfed his face.

Another pang of nausea. Mouth gaped to sob. You threw your forearm over it. A contrived cough to conceal your reaction, it failed.

Behind you, Hange frowned. This time, it was their turn to cup your shoulder in their hand. In your peripheral vision, they pointed to a decorated tree stump. “When you do, make sure to clean his wounds first.” Atop the makeshift table, an even more crude construction was this mobile infirmary. Missing even the bare minimums of battlefield first-aid. More horrific than not: black thread, long needle. Thin vial of clear liquid was significantly less than full. Its alcoholic sting, you swore you could smell it from here. The thought of pouring that shit on him made your stomach flip again.

“If you didn’t come, I was going to have to do it,” they chuckled this time, instead of severity, Hange used a lighthearted approach to comfort you, “but I’m sure he’ll be more receptive to you putting him through pain! It seems you’ve got the magic touch.”

If Levi was awake, oh - a swift ass-beating that would’ve been, but you were much more merciful, happy to share a harmony in crude humor. A moment of blissful ignorance in an ignorant, humorless world. Your smile widened to a grin and you tossed a playful shoo, “Get out of here, you.”

You had not expected them to take you seriously. Hange smiled contentedly, turned on their heel, and strode even deeper into unexplored forest. A dramatic shift in mood as you swerved from joking to panicking, “Wait - where are - what are - where are you going?”

Hange shrugged their shoulders, palms turned up to the sky. No slow in their pace, not even a glance back to you as they called, “Can’t save the world on no sleep!”

As their figure grew tinier, your jaw that had fallen open gradually began to close. Their footsteps faded away, from faint to silent. Whether they eventually flopped from fatigue or continued their stride, you never found out for sure. You saw how exhausted they were, mentally and physically. At the same time, you could only imagine the pressure and responsibility they must have felt. Insomnia or collapse? Likely a coin flip.

And just like that, the two of you were alone.

// // //

Survivor’s guilt, you were familiar with. After this long in the Scouts, among those you knew, those who had experienced it outnumbered those who had not. You yourself had lost count of your diagnoses.

But what the fuck was this?

He had not died. He wouldn’t die, that’s what Hange said. You had not taken your eyes off him, not for one moment, and his breaths were as recognizable as your own. Undeniably alive, so why were you grieving?

Perhaps it was regret. Without him there to talk you out of it, you wondered why you shouldn’t feel any and spiraled into its acupuncture. If only you had been at the right place at the right time - there were so many chances to stop it! You could have overheard any conversation about the wine and warned him: stay the hardass captain, the wine’s dangerous! More intelligence about Zeke could’ve shown you how reckless he was, and if you had communicated that to Levi, he would’ve known better than to bring thunder spears anywhere near him. Fuck, even if you had just been there! Maybe you could have thrown yourself between Levi and the explosion. Better me than him.

Your hand snapped to your head and seized a punishing pull of your hair. You knew better than to think such thoughts. Not even for your own sake, but for his: he wouldn’t want you to feel that way!

It was disrespectful to him, and let us respect the wishes of the dead.

You fucking idiot, he’s not dead!

Angst of this intensity, at any other time, you would scream, throw things, thrash about. But with your insomniac sound asleep beside you, you would not even allow yourself that release. All you could do was mewl silently, rip grass from the ground, and hug your knees to your pitted chest.

That lasted a couple hours, and it may have even longer, but the chill hit you like an early winter. Goosebumps had pricked your skin, chattering teeth had become audible. And if you were cold - he must be freezing.

Selfish. Selfish! You chastised yourself as you stood from your stone turned seat. Seemed like there was some spare wood from whatever Hange’s latest project was, you set it gently atop the fire, cringed when it collapsed with a series of clatters. You winced and checked on Levi. Still sound asleep. The last two logs, you set them on the side closest to him, simultaneously the least and most you could do to keep him warm.

But was it?

He looked so tiny on the forest floor so vast. So lonely on that slate of tarp. The crickets began to chirp: there’s room for you, too.

Still, you stood there debating. Weighing internally: better to lay beside him or leave him be? You did not want to wake him, for he appeared to be in a semi-comfortable peace. At the same time, each time he shivered, you felt your veins run cold with responsiblity. Not doing a very good job at the whole caretaking, significant other task.

Nature made the choice for you. A merciless gust of wind hissed through the trees, breaking branches along the way. Acorns and twigs tumbled to the ground with the gravity of heavy hail. Icy was its howl, providing only seconds of warning before the sharp drop in temperature. Almost immediately, the captain whimpered himself awake and bunched the blanket to his body. Even faster, your sprint to his side.

Like a survivor to a raft, a plant to spring rain, that was how you clutched him. “Levi…” you soothed, “Levi, it’s me.”

Trying to open his eyes, eye, induced a splitting headache. Thankfully, his hearing had recovered from the piercing explosion and was able to recognize: it was you. Throat scathed dry, Levi failed to summon a response. The apple of his neck twitched in his attempt at a swallow. Water.

In the pocket of your cape, a full canteen, “Thirsty?”

A subtle nod was all he could muster. Mouth sealed off, streaks of red tainted the white gauze, you supposed it was time. Time to strip off his bandages, to see him again, to learn what had happened.

Hange had debriefed you. There was no need to ask. His pupil was a lens through which you could see it all. The disbelief still raw, the disappointment in himself, the trauma glazed over. Curiosity screamed within you, longing to know everything from the tiniest details to the major events. Louder, though, was your urge to tend to him - and you knew that an interrogation was not the right remedy.

There was something more subtle, and perhaps even more telling than words.

“Levi, let me see.”

Hesitation.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Normally, he would slip in a snide remark. His own take on a joke. Tonight, it wasn’t there.

But you were right, it was time. He felt disgusting. Gauze glued to his face - blood and sweat - the neat freak squirmed. The cool air of a wilderness night and spring water down his throat sounded most refreshing.

Refreshing - like the new perspective you would have of him. Levi had not seen himself yet, but based on the immense pain he felt, his face of all places, he knew it couldn’t be pretty. In that way, perhaps it would have been easier if it was Hange. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him, but you were the only exception. You alone could scare him, the fear of how you would react to your lover turned monster.

Slowly, you reached to your hip and unsheathed your dagger. Trustworthy eye contact silently conveyed that you would cut him free. Levi answered with a slow blink, an attempt at a smile, an attempt that was quickly retracted by his newly irritated nerves. They screamed at him for it, he subdued them by digging his nails - all eight of them - into his palms. With a mere fraction of his face visible, your ever stoic Levi looked even more so. His mouth completely covered, you misread his response. Your first hint towards a long road of recovery ahead, your relationship forever altered.

You crawled behind him and aligned your arm with his spine, “Can you sit up for me?” Like a true combat nurse, you did not wait for an answer before getting to work. Slow but sturdy, you lifted him just enough so that you could get to his nape. Though your care was tender, his reaction was harsh: sharp hisses and exasperated groans. It saddened you, how these strained grunts no longer frightened you - you had heard so much worse from both him and others.

At the tail of his undercut, you pinched Hange’s knot and lifted the ties from his scalp. An inch of space, you slipped the point of your blade between them. New breeze on his most sensitive spot, knife at the back of his neck, Levi shuddered in your arms.

“Don’t worry,” you rubbed your palm against his shoulder, “I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.” I won’t let you get hurt anymore.

One swift swipe! You slit the gauze, almost like pulling a zipper. Hand on his thigh, you pivoted to his front. Left hand was both hasty and soft, pulling the wrapping from the top of his head all the way past his chin.

The mask was off.

With his face now unveiled, you withdrew a handful of inches. A habitual up and down to evaluate his state, just like he trained you.

The irises that snared you, there was now only one of them. Fresh stitches. Unforgiving black pierced his ivory skin. Crimson blood between the threads. A red so raw, you knew it was never meant to be seen.

Your throat tightened, the words retched out. “It’s not -” you swallowed, “- that bad…”

A bad liar, you always were. Adorable at other times, gut-wrenching now. You had totally frozen, and all he could do was blink helplessly in wait for you to accept him. In those few seconds, voices in his head made a thousand comparisons. Uglier than a titan. More jarring than a corpse. All the shit you’ve seen, and you’ve never reacted like this. As your eyes glassed over, his reflection became even clearer to himself, confirmed his fears: hideous, he was hideous.

Even though you stared, you gawked, he could not blame you. In fact, blaming you was his furthest thought, far beyond his first: blaming himself.

“I’m sorry.” Levi whispered. “I’m sorry.”

No. I’m sorry. Again, you ran through all the ways you could have prevented this. If only you had spied better. If only you had been there! He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“I really…” Levi sniffed, his voice raspy, “I screwed up.” A single, silent tear rolled down his cheek. Then another, and another. “...stupid, fucking stupid.”

Seeing him cry always made you do the same. This time, though, your typical techniques left you. This Levi was unrecognizable, not just his physicality, but his personality as well. Even after the bloodiest expeditions, you had never seen such defeat in him before.

Levi barred his teeth, blood had pooled in his lower lip and leveled with the rim. As tears spilled into open wounds, stinging relentlessly, he did not even flinch, for he felt he deserved it. Not just because he had put himself in that lethal situation, but because he had killed his former self - the only version of him anyone had ever loved - your soulmate.

“Levi…” your fingers ran down his chest, extra delicate this time. Beneath your touch - its insinuation familiar - his heart fluttered, “you deserve to feel good.”

Despite your kindling fire, Levi remained cold at your contact and stayed startlingly still. He couldn’t even meet your eye contact, instead, choosing to stare straight down at your knees, as if needing to absorb and accept that you were actually knelt before him.

His words wavered, but his voice was a constant low. Hardly audible. Deeply depressed. “You… still want me?”

Instant, unfathomable heartbreak. Chills, widened eyes, and a ringing in your ears, disbelief at what you had just heard. Against his chest, your fingertips dwindled. Overwhelmed with pity, nevertheless, he still could not bear a glance towards you.

“Levi,” you cupped his cheek, beckoning his gaze. Tilting your head, a smile both teasing and kindred, “don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia, too?”

He scowled - halfway between too soon and smitten admiration. Only you would dare test him at a time like this.

“Cause it seems you’re forgetting all we’ve been through already.”

In each other’s eyes, everything came flooding back. The death of his squad and the months of ensuing grief. The broken leg that held him back from the tower, Eren’s capture, and the rescue mission - the one that costed Erwin’s arm and many more their lives. The return to Shiganshina, even fewer - including the late commander - returned from. Tremendous weights both physical and emotional, you had always been there to shoulder them with him. This was just another one of those spells, and you were a veteran by this point.

“Prim and proper without any problems… that’s not the you I’m used to.” Curled knuckles tucked stray locks neatly behind his ear. Nails scratched the cusp on the way, summoning shivers from the man beneath you.

You took his hands in yours. Fingers intertwined, two were notably missing. No matter, you concentrated, determined to hide your adjustment to this new hold.

“What I am used to, though, is the way you’ll recover - even stronger than before.” You tugged his hand to your lips and spoke gently, confidently against them, “You always have.”

Levi shook his head and grit through clenched teeth, “I don’t know if I’m coming back from this one, sweetheart.”

Indeed, the path forward was hard to see. His body had been torn to true shreds. The Ackerman bloodline was gifted, but they were human. Regeneration of his sight and his grasp were impossible. Humanity’s strongest soldier had been knocked down a permanent rung.

Suddenly, you feared that the superlative title had done him more harm than good. Love was not something you measured, and his combat abilities meant nothing to you, least of all now. Who said he had to climb that particular ladder? Why must he be a Scout first and person second? Levi had embodied the hope of humanity - and you could not blame the population for placing their faith in him. However, you were not just another member of the population. And to you, Levi was far more than his labels. Foremost, he was alive and he was yours.

He’s alive! He’s yours!

“For fuck’s sake, Levi…” tears fell, your smile rose, the words tumbled out, “all you have to do is breathe and that’s already enough.” Tenderly, you hooked your fingers over the seam of his blanket and tugged down. Shamelessly, your gaze swallowed him, relishing in his flushed chest and its heightened pulse, “and look at you, you’re already doing that.”

The end of the world, nearly the end of his life, but your tears were what broke him.

It started with a couple shakes of his head. Matted bangs fell over his features, but the shaking of his body and his crackling voice revealed all. Levi pulled his hand from your grasp and clutched his wrinkled forehead. Thumb ground his temple, a coping technique from childhood. A few deep breaths, after then, rattled and shaky: the telltale start to his breakdowns.

Salted tears poured into his split lip. On instinct, your thumb seeped into his mouth, replacing the burn with your sweet taste. God, how he needed it.

He needed it. He needed it. A painkiller, but not a pill. Warmth, but not a blanket. To be loved, adored, and made to feel useful, no matter what it was he could do. He could hardly talk, could not even sip water on his own. But there was one thing you knew he could do, one thing that would lift his spirits, if only the length of an endorphin release.

A smile both sweet and seductive, innocent and intimate. “You’re going to make me cum. I’m gonna make you feel good.” One hand on his stiffening lap. One hand on his cheek. “And I’ll show you that you can still do both.”

// // //

It was not the same, and you would not pretend that it was. Not worse, just different. Even better in some ways.

Inexplicably adorable. Learning to work with his left hand, he would lift his right hand to your buttons only to halt halfway and switch to the other. Pure, flustered concentration as he learned to communicate with his non-dominant hand, the most intimate practice possible. In the glaze of moonlight, his red blush radiated. Internally, he cursed the buttons and belts of the Scout uniform. Externally, he released exasperated sighs and frustrated moans. Undressing you used to take seconds, but after many minutes, your shirt was only halfway undone. Despite his mental irritation, it seemed neither of you truly minded: your arousal stirred with anticipation, his pupils dilated as he savored every second - every inch of your skin. Sex taking longer, who would complain about that?

Extra weak. Each of his movements was accompanied by shakes, emphasizing the efforts he put into making love to you. Twitches in his reawakening muscles kept his touch active, keeping things exciting. His vice grips of your skin had melted to grazes and dances. His squeezes no longer cut off your circulation, but coerced blood into every capillary. Entirely conscious, desperately yearning for more. You realized: it was not his strength that overcame you, but the craving that faint touch incited. Exerted grunts and curses under his breath were melody to the hum of mosquitoes and crackle of campfire. The most surprising setting to be spicing up your sex life.

Hyper-sensitive. The strain embedded in every motion had unraveled him quickly. And then there was you. Licking his wounds, tracing your tongue along his scars, you had thrown him off the tightrope balance of pain and pleasure, leaving him to scream in freefall. Teeth grazed his jawline, drawing screeches that felt sinful to listen to, but that didn’t stop you. Lips on his navel drew back-breaking arches of his spine. Acute and uncontrollable rolls of his hips. Touch-starved. Love-deprived. The feeling of unworthiness made every bit of affection that much more treasured. Every touch, a lightning bolt. Each wake, a calm. Mini orgasms wherever, whenever you felt him.

So conscious of his body, of his injuries, your diligent attention revealed perfections you never noticed before. Tendons in his arms cast contrasting shadows over his skin, they flexed with every sensation he felt and every one he provided.

You had always assumed it was the color of his eyes that was so magnificent, and indeed it was a lovely shade, but it was his angular brows and straight lashes that highlighted them so beautifully.

New appreciation for his muscles - not just eye candy, not just strength - but their persistence and importance in keeping him alive. Across his abdomen, seamless symmetry, pair after pair of ridges. Overstimulated sweat covered and complimented every curve, his own spotlight.

Your goal was to kiss every inch of him, make love to every inch of him. Lips curled to meet his crevices, leaving saliva and praise all throughout your path. “You’re perfect, Levi.” Again, you were crying. Tears dripped to his skin, medicine. “Perfect.”

Having danced with death, Levi was also experiencing a new infatuation with you. After hours of seeing nothing but black, your body was a constellation to explore. He had lost some digits, but two were enough to run his fingers through your hair. Smooth skin invited his hands to savor you, further welcoming with your singing nerves and satisfied sighs. Likewise, after hearing nothing but silence, your whines and whispers moved mountains within him. When he felt so broken, so useless, you managed to lift him up. You tugged him free from his constraints and marveled at his livelihood. Long and admiring was your stare at his erection, forcing him to acknowledge the proof that one thing still worked.

Labored was his attempt to sit up, to take hold of you, but you placed your palms to his pecs and pushed down, “Levi, it’s okay.” Leaning over, your breast met his chest as your lips fell beside his ear, drawing shudders as you cooed, “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Mindfully, you reversed the roles: using him as a crutch, signaling his worth and aid to you. By your hold on his shoulders, you sturdied yourself as you lowered your sex down onto his lap. You were ready. Your bodies were ready. Anticipation clearly coated his cock from tip to base. Your folds yearned to be filled, drooling onto your thighs with hunger.

The back of your hand grazed his forehead, brushing his bangs - slick with sweat - aside. Unbroken eye contact. Unbroken vows: to love each other in sickness and in health. You smiled, he nodded. You inhaled deeply. He exhaled shakily. Lowering yourself down, he pushed himself up as much as he could. Enveloping him. Within you. Together at last.

In that moment, the separation nearly felt worth it. In the sea of your love, a current of sympathetic sadism. The strife of his injuries had strung him to his last wit, making the second he entered you that much more intense. Levi strained beneath you, immaculate curses fallen past his cracked lips. Bringing Levi to tears and to the brink of bliss, you were certain there was no bigger confidence boost, no greater incentive to fuck him with all you had.

But then, when you did, you realized the true motive: how he made you feel.

Face scrunched with each rise and fall, fingernails threatened to pierce his skin. Clutching him, you stumbled through your words - breaks between your repetitions. “It - It feels… You feel…”

Levi swore his heart could have exploded with tension over what you were going to say, that was until you uttered the words that made his heart stop, “so fucking good.”

On his face, relief. Within your walls, elation. “Y-Yeah?” Levi moaned, a combination of clarification and pleasure. “F’Feels… good?”

“Oh yes, baby…” So good, you couldn’t stop. So good, you lost yourself. His passion so lively, so blinding, you nearly forgot about his critical condition. Rolled back eyes snapped open, checking on him. You nearly halted your pace and panicked, “You doing okay?”

Canines bit his lip, but its sting was washed away in your presence, captivating. Squinted eyes, narrowed brows, Levi threw his hand over his mouth and muffled himself, nodding instead.

You smirked, too cute for his own good, that was how you usually reacted. Tonight, though, after all the loathing and depreciation you had both witnessed and felt, your vision was swayed. Lightly but deliberately, you pinched his wrist and lifted it above his head. “No need to hide, darling.” Tongue pried his lips open. “Let me see you. Let me hear you.”

Levi managed just a sliver, but that shred of his silver gaze was enough. “I - I’m f’fine!” He stressed. “I… promise.”

You lowered one brow in dubious concern, but he insisted breathlessly. “Please…” he whimpered, “Please keep going!”

Finally, you rolled your head back and sighed, he asked you for something. Something you could provide. Something you could fix for your lover so broken. With this goal in reach, you shared his desire for utility. Sex was survival, evolutionary, feral. The only thing that could make you fuck a patient senseless. The only thing that could make him forget his failures. The only thing that would heal both of you.

Oh, how he needed it. So hard against your soft insides. A length that reached for the stars. Warm passion mortared with yours, inciting smacks and screams that echoed for the voyeuristic pines.

“P-Please…” Levi begged. Let me cum. Don’t leave me. Stay mine forever. He yearned to say everything, but with your tidaling sensation and his fogged mind, the most he could manage was just the one word. Louder and louder, “Please, (Y/N)...” until his own climax cut him off, “P-Plea - hah’Ahh!!”

Steep and rapid thrusts, you were made speechless - not only by the pleasure they brought within you, but by how impressive they were. So much about him had changed, and he had every reason to be lethargic, but the power he demonstrated had not faded. Your heart sang with admiration, humanity’s strongest for a reason.

You hummed, unabashedly drinking up the symptoms of his release. Well familiar with his display, your hips knew just how to match the rhythm of his convulsions. Eventually, they slowed. Eventually, he was able to open his eye again. You saw his panic, the embarrassment, having finished first. When his seed hit your furthest depths and you seized around him, though, it was wordlessly communicated: he had no regrets, nothing to be sorry for, for his climax was what brought you to yours.

Well, wordless in a sense. Your incoherent cries and broken syllables were of no lexicon, but a language he was fluent in. Eight fingers clutched your back, helping you through your last few rhythms, “Come on. Come on, I’ve got you.”

“Fuck!” You reveled. You were the luckiest person in the world. Even before the pillowtalk, in the midst of your orgasm, you could already see: no one else would mute their stinging nerves just to make you feel a bit better, no one else would prioritize your happiness over their own, no one else would share your tears in the same night they shared your bed. In this dying world, there was only one man alive who would love you as you did him. And he was yours.

All yours.

masterlist

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #oneshot #angst #smut #2023 #i poured my whole heart and soul and brain and caretaking knk into thi s so i hope you enjoy #anlian writes #my writing #alias's

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mikanotes · 2 months

Text

goodbyes are sour

connor x gn!reader — 2.1k words

genre: angst sorta! mutual pining in denial

warnings: mentions of guns and killing, kabedon for the sake of science, connor unreliable narrator LOL u have feelings android man… maybe ooc idk. (wrote this w the idea of connor being deviant since the beginning bcs Yeah!)

synopsis: You meet Connor again. Turns out things are much more complicated when you aren’t working together.

author’s note: hi dbh fic?! i Love connor nd i’ve been writing this for a while (crazy since it’s rly short) but i don’t like it much… anyways whoevers alive in the dbh fandom have this!

“Detective.”

There’s just something about the way Connor speaks. The cadence, the pitch, the enunciation of each word. It’s painfully evident that he isn’t human. Everything about him is so machine-like that even his perfect, human-like exterior could not fool anyone. However it is something you got used to. Hearing the android speak your name and call you ‘Detective’ back a while ago felt somewhat unsettling. Now it’s so easy to recognize that it almost makes you feel at ease.

“Do you seriously think I’m an android? I don’t wanna deal with those fucking machines, either. I’d be glad if you put a bullet through them rather than me.”

Turns out hearing him fake being a human is ten times more terrifying than his android speech patterns could ever hope to be.

This was not part of the plan.

You were sent with a unit to patrol around the streets for any android who still hadn’t been brought back or destroyed. You weren’t a fan of this whole assignment, but felt better than the rookies who were sent out to shoot humanoid robots as their first field mission probably did.

It would be fine, is what you told yourself, because you didn’t feel anything towards Cyberlife’s creations enough to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of their blue blood on your hands, though it wasn’t ideal. You could manage. Until the first person you came across happened to be the one android you genuinely cared about.

“I don’t think he’s one of them…” one of your fellow officers murmurs next to you. You suddenly become very aware of the gun he, too, is holding and pointing towards the target. Fuck. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough.

At least this idiot’s performance seems to be fooling them.

You wait one second, then sigh on the second, and finally lower your gun on the third. “You shouldn’t be here.” you say casually, prompting your colleagues to relax and the atmosphere to lighten a little. Your heart is in your throat, however. “We’ve got orders to round up every android we see around here. You should go home. This isn’t exactly safe.”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, rolling his eyes a little, “I was gonna leave anyways, thanks.”

Your coworkers mumble to themselves about how disagreeable this guy’s attitude is and it’s enough for them to miss the wink the latter sends your way as he leaves. You almost regret not shooting a bullet through his head.

Still, you sigh in relief, setting your gun back at your side and running a hand over your face. You don’t think you can continue patrolling in peace. There’s one too many questions in your mind and the key to answering them is escaping from your grasp.

You take the phone in your pocket and pretend to get a call, moving it to your ear and looking at the members of your team. “I’ll join up with you later.” you say, gesturing towards your phone. They nod and walk away, and you do the same, feeling more relieved than ever that these people see you as a leader of sorts. They won’t question you on anything. You hurry towards the direction your so-called partner left to the moment they’re out of sight.

A rooftop door, stairs, and more stairs. You’re jogging down like you’re chasing a criminal on the run. You’re down to the fifth floor out of eight when someone grabs your arm and pulls you out a door.

“Wha—” you try to yell, but a cold hand settle over your mouth. Your body relaxes but your expression tenses. Connor. “Let me go,” you mumble incoherently, surprisingly succeeding in getting him to let you step away.

You sigh and shake your head, turning around abruptly. His ‘human costume’ (which really just was a grey suit jacket thrown over what should’ve been his Cyberlife uniform, glasses, and a cap to hide his LED) is already gone, replaced by his usual attire, just missing his jacket.

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, annoyed, pointing towards the staircase (back there, on the roof) and the android simply shrugs. “Connor.”

“I was undercover, Detective. I thought someone as smart as you would recognize that much.” he says, his tone back to normal. You’d feel relieved if he wasn’t being so irritating. “Was I wrong?”

Your face drops. “No. I figured as much. But what for?” you sigh, crossing your arms.

“Same mission as always.”

“Who are you chasing? Did you find the place?”

“I have no reason to tell you.”

It only clicks then that while you know about Connor continuing his mission after being laid off the case, you’re not part of it anymore. He had to be sent back to Cyberlife, and you should’ve been forgetting about him entirely. You’re still DPD, and you have orders to shoot Androids on sight— Which you clearly aren’t following. He’s right. He has no reason to tell you.

Still.

You grab his arm when he threatens to walk away. You’re not sure what you want to say, but you’re not done talking. He lets you. “Connor.”

“Detective.” he says. You straighten your back and sigh, not breaking eye contact. He tilts his head to the side and his LED flashes yellow for an instant. “You’re angry.”

Of course you’re angry. He’s infuriating. There’s something about how logical and dead-set on following every single rule he is that makes Connor the most annoying individual you’ve ever talked to. Everything he does has to be for his mission. Every single thing.

“Do threats work with you?” you ask blankly, “If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll get Cyberlife to bring you back, and all that?”

When he takes a step closer to you again, forcing your back to press against the wall, and his LED does not even threaten to change hues, you’re taken aback. Just a bit. It’s the same kind of frustrated attitude you would’ve expected from a human after saying what you just did. But not Connor.

He doesn’t seem frustrated, though. And you know he can look annoyed. He just doesn’t. So he must not be. And you want to find what it is he’s doing exactly, stepping closer to you without even saying a word, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting at the distance between you two. You know he does everything for his work. Does he think you have new information on deviants? Does he really believe you would call Cyberlife on him? Is he using his stupid interrogation module on you? Whatever it is makes you even more annoyed.

The silence feels heavy. It makes things worse. It gives your brain time to process how this is making you feel and it’s no good at all. “What?” you break the silence, tone somewhat irritated.

“I’m trying to understand the reason why you’re so angry at me.” he explains simply, like it makes sense. His eyes narrow a bit and the LED at the side of his head flickers yellow for a moment. “And no, Detective. Threats don’t work on me. Not when I can tell you’re lying so easily.” he adds, quieter.

“Shut up.” you scoff.

“I dont think I will.”

“Connor.”

“— However,” he interrupts, “I can step away from you at any moment if you tell me to.”

“No.”

“No?”

What— No?! You register the word after saying it and sigh, face contorting into a somewhat pained expression. You panicked and said it, your mind processing his offer as him leaving you again— With no information and nothing to ease your stupid worries. Now it just sounds odd.

Is that embarrassment?

“You didn’t finish what you were trying to do, did you? You haven’t told me why I’m angry yet. Since you apparently care so much.” you say, tone sounding much softer than before. Your apparent discomposure took away all the bitterness from your voice. Interesting.

Truth be told, Connor knows why you’re angry. He’s not letting you in on the details of what he’s doing despite the time you spent working as partners a very short while ago. He’s spent enough time with people, and you especially, to know that after forming some kind of bond with a work partner, it would be frustrating not to receive information about their mission the way you used to from them—

Especially considering he was still chasing after something you both knew about. Jericho. But he cannot tell you about that. Not… Right now.

What he really was trying to do was evaluate how much of a threat you really could be to his investigation. He didn’t sense any hostility before and he doesn’t now, and you could’ve shot him but you didn’t. But it’s not enough. He needs more time— More evidence that it’s fine. That’s why he pulled you here in the first place. That’s why he pressured you to talk.

He needs to make sure killing you isn’t necessary.

“Because I posed a threat to the stability of your current mission earlier. You wouldn’t have been able to shoot me had I been discovered, and your reaction to your colleagues shooting me would’ve jeopardized your job itself.” he answers.

This reasoning would make sense.

“That’s not it.” you sigh.

Your heartbeat is slowing down. No good. Connor leans his arm on the wall next to you and moves closer. Your heartbeat picks up in speed. It’s almost alarming. He can tell all the details about your physical condition and deduce what you’re thinking or feeling based off of them, sure. But he’s no human. The way he views and comprehends emotions is registered in his system in a much more clear and logic-based way than it is in humans’ brains.

So maybe he won’t ever know why your heart beats so heavily against your ribcage. So he just has to pressure the right places and demand answers. He unfortunately can’t allow you to relax. He won’t get anything out of you if you’re calm. You’re much too turbulent for that.

Or maybe he’ll just have to ask. In a normal way.

“Detective, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” you scoff, eyes widening. Wrong question.

You seem like you want to be angry but something is holding you back from displaying just how much he gets on your nerves. You sigh deeply and look at him, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird. More than usual. Why’d you pull me here if you didn’t want to tell me anything? And I’m worried. What if you really did get shot? Wasn’t Cyberlife supposed to deactivate you? They wouldn’t have brought in another Connor this time. You’re off the case, you— You would’ve died!”

“Maybe.”

There’s circles under your eyes. There always are, but they’re more defined now than they were the last time he saw you. Now that you’re actually being honest, your whole voice and mannerisms betray any of your usual annoyed and dismissive facade. He didn’t think you cared this much, though he understands that some humans are quick to empathize. To a fault.

Now it’s clear he doesn’t need to eliminate you at all. Part of him seems to have grown fond of your company. He couldn’t risk that getting in the way of his better judgment.

“I only pulled you here so you wouldn’t pointlessly chase down the streets searching for me, since I made sure no one would follow.” he says, stepping back and giving you more space, “You’re a police officer. It doesn’t matter what you say you’ll keep to yourself or not. I can’t compromise. This is too important.”

You’re hurt, it’s visible. He’s saying he can’t risk trusting you. He figures that must not feel nice.

The sound of the radio attached to your side breaks this prolonged silence with the promise of separation. You take it, eyes not leaving Connor’s, and listen to your colleague speak. You tell them you’ll be right there. You’re not one to be late. He knows you’ll really leave this time— Too far away for him to hope to talk to you again, if anything goes awry.

You turn the radio off and put it back where it was. “Hope you succeed, then.” you say, bitter, and push yourself up to start walking away.

“Take care of yourself, Detective.” Connor says. Asks. The words come out before he can really think. Something about your voice and this whole atmosphere made him… Feel uneasy. Like he needed to say something. If this is how your partnership ends, he doesn’t believe it should be on such a sour note. He cares doesn’t dislike you at all, so why should it?

You stagger a little, seemingly stopping in your tracks, but moving again no more than a second later. “You too, Connor.”

Somehow, goodbyes had never seemed so sad.

#connor x reader #connor dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #connor detroit become human x reader #x reader

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d3adbr3inc3lls · 4 months

Text

Amethio x RVT!Reader

He didn’t know you were part of the RVT at first, mostly because you were making sure the pokemon were okay whilst he, Zir and Conia were attacking the ship, or doing other things that didn’t include battling

The two of you met when you were buying groceries and he was trying to get more clues about the black Rayquaza.

You’ve heard Friede and Roy talking about the Explorers, but you never thought much of it, just another criminal organisation that would probably be caught soon like the other regional teams.

You told Amethio what little you knew about the black Rayquaza, it couldn’t hurt telling a stranger who was also interested in the unnatural coloured Rayquaza the information.

The first time he saw you with the RVT he was shocked. He’d never expect you to work with them, and vice versa, you were shocked that he was part of a criminal organisation. Amethio seemed like such a nice person.

It’d be a lie to say that he still thought highly of you after finding out that you were part of the RVT. He felt so many things. He felt betrayed, mostly as a result of his rivalry with the RVT.

If you and Amethio exchanged numbers, he’d grow more distant and take hours, sometimes even days to reply, despite him replying relatively quickly before finding out you were part of the RVT.

If the two teams battle, he’d target you because he feels so hurt. He knows it isn’t a good thing to take out his emotions on you, the one who unintentionally hurt him, but he can’t help it. He wants you to know what he feels.

If the two of you ever get on speaking terms again, he’ll attack you in battle less, often telling Zir or Conia to go for you whilst he deals with someone else. More specifically Friede. Amethio has a one sided rivalry with the man.

The two of you would later get closer, but Amethio will keep the relationship hidden as he doesn’t know what Hamber or Gibeon would say if he were to date a member of the team he was actively fighting against.

If Sango finds out, Amethio knows he’s as good as dead. She’d tell the other Explorers about it and who knows what they’ll do. Spinel especially who seems to hate him, so he’d strongly advise you to not go anywhere near a pink haired girl that talks in 3rd person.

—

One shot with no real end as I didn’t know how to end it, but decided to keep it incase anyone wanted to read it, but be warned, it’s unfinished and is somewhat angsty,

—

“So you’re really with them?” His voice made you feel cold. As if you were a kid and he was a parent who was disappointed.

The tension only grew as you tried to think of a response.

“I didn’t know-“ Your mouth felt dry as you responded, attempting to think of anything to lighten the situation but ultimately failing.

“Don’t lie to me.” Amethio hissed. You could almost hear the hostility and anger shine through his voice. Almost.

Sighing, you lean back onto your bed. Your partner pokemon glanced at you with concern, wondering what was happening as they’ve never seen you this defeated. Giving them a comforting nod you reach a hand out to pet the ‘mon in an attempt to calm down, wondering how you’d get out of this situation and keep what the two of you have.

On the other hand, Amethio is pacing around the room he sleeps in whilst Conia anxiously looks at him, she has never seen her boss acting like this before as he waited for your response. Even Ceruledge knew that something was up by the way Amethio’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed as he paced the room.

He had never let anyone get close to him, so it was a first, but also a first for someone to be in the team he constantly fought against. Everything was so new to him. It was unnatural.

“Well?” He asked, waiting for your response. He hasn’t known you for long, so he doesn’t know what to expect from you, unlike the other admins whose responses he can easily predict.

#Pokemon x reader #Amethio x reader #headcannons #my work #Amethio #amethio pokemon

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dearmantis · 1 year

Text

Huff n Puff

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Reader

Summary: After faking your death half a century ago you finally return to the Little Palace after hearing of the Darklings passing. You did not expect to see a familiar face when the new General arrives.

Warnings: period typical slut-shaming, outdated opinions on peoples sex lives, talks of loosing virginity (nothing explicit), faking death, a bit survivors guilt(?), implied smut (is that the right warning when it's a fade to black?)

Word Count: 3k

Authors' Note: I'm taking great liberties with canon again because I don't think the books ever went into detail about how Aleksander fakes his death and comes back all the time. Also I still can't write to save my life, I'm not a native English speaker and this is barely edited, what else is new.

When the new Darkling arrives at the Little Palace, you're on a mission to accompany a ravkan dutchess and her grisha husband on their travels back to Os Alta after spending a few weeks in her husbands hometown. You're disappointed to not be able to see something so rare and special — a once in a lifetime event like a total eclipse, like one of your team mates said — but you try to not be too upset about it.

The dutchess and her husband are quite sweet to you and your team, and the mission is simple enough. Nobody gets hurt, and the travel back home to Os Alta is comfortable enough considering the cold, snowy weather.

It's easier for you to get over the circumstances than for the other three in your team, of course. If you're smart, you will be able to see and meet many new Darklings over the next few centuries while they won't get the chance, so you don't judge them for being in a worse mood than usual. They should be in the palace, celebrating the arrival of the new general and drinking alcohol until they can't stand on their own feet anymore, instead of a two days ride away from the party, grilling some skinny rabbits on a fire or trying to remove the deep, thick snow from the campsite.

When it's finally time to eat you fill the silence with a story about your time before you joined the Little Palace, twisting the tale a bit to make it seem like you were a teen during the events.

It's odd to lie about who you are, but you can't risk too many similarities between this life and your last, so you form a tale about escaping Ketterdam after realising that a local gang found out about your Grisha powers and started to target you.

You're still considered a newer recruit in the Little Palace, and you haven't been able to make many friends since you arrived as an adult and not as a child like the others. The Grisha listen to your words excitedly, eager to find out more about their mysterious companion, and you're happy to oblige, weaving an encouraging story about your childhood in Ketterdam, training yourself in secret, and finding the power to fight for your freedom after hearing so many tales of the heroism of the Second Army.

When you're finished, the fire is starting to die, darkness creeping in from the forrest, and one of your fellow soldiers stands up to get more wood. The dutchess and her husband thank you for joining the ravkan army, tears in the young womans eyes, clearly touched by your bravery, and your team leader – Inessa, an older heartrender – tightly hugs you a few minutes later, telling you how proud she is of you.

You don't feel bad for lying. It has to be done for your own savety, and it makes sense for you to open up to your teammates during your first longer mission. This was a calculated decision, and it has only lightened the mood a bit, lifting some of the sadness from your fellow soldiers' shoulders.

Well and you did almost get murdered an kidnapped a few times during your travels in Ketterdam during the fifty year break you spend away from the Little Palace after faking your death. You were just in your seventies during that time, not a teenager, but who cares about details like that?

After your little storytime at the fire you open up more and more during the last two days of your travels to Os Alta, playing the role of the young soldier who finally feels like the Little Palace might become a home, like the other Grisha might actually turn into one big family, and for a second you wish that was truly the case. That you're actually just some runaway from Ketterdam, not an almost a century old Grisha who doesn't know why time hasn't claimed your body yet.

During your trip back, your fellow soldiers also theorise a bit. What is the general gonna be like? How will he compare to General Golubev, the Heartrender who took on the position after the last Darkling left the Little Palace to find a wife and continue the Darkling-bloodline in savety?

You have to bite your tongue and remind yourself that you're no older than 23 to these people. To them you are too young to know the General. He left the Palace forty years ago. Even Inessa barely remembers him from her teens, only saying that he was a beautiful man and could be very scary.

Karina, an Inferni in your group, tries to dig deeper, asking how pretty he truly is in so many different ways that Inessa ends up threatening to stop her heart until she's unconcious, and the dutchess giggles so loudly at the interaction that you can't stop yourself from joining her.

The fifty years traveling have been lonely and cold and even your first years at the Little Palace have been filled with an odd distance between you and the other Grisha, but in those last two days everything feels like back when you truly were 23 and surrounded by friends.

Your heart hurts when you finally arrive in Os Alta and say goodbye to the dutchess and her husband, already missing the uncomfortable camps in the middle of the woods you had to stay in to make sure the drüskelle wouldn't be able to follow your tracks easily, but the pain quickly gets overshadowed by the excitement vibrating in the voices of your fellow soldiers.

It's time. Your mission is officially over. Now you will finally meet the new Darkling.

The five of you quickly step through the familiar hallways of the Little Palace, almost getting lost after realising that you won't have to debrief in the office General Golubev used during his time. You end up leading the group to the formerly empty rooms where the old Darkling stayed, explaining that you discovered the unused rooms during your first month at the palace while exploring the place.

You knock quickly on the heavy wooden doors before slipping to the back of the group, hiding behind the others. Eyes hovering over the Oprichniki guard while you wait for the General to call you in, you realize with a slight pang of pain that you don't recognize the guards. You used to be quite close to several of the Oprichniki in your old life, so close in fact that there were rumours of you joining before you noticed that you weren't aging like the others anymore and decided to fake your death. Seeing the people the General chose for his guard in their uniforms hurts a bit, it's undeniable. All of your friends are dead. All of them are dead, and you should be dead too, yet you stand here, in front of these doors, waiting to be let in by the son of the man you once loved.

Finally the deep voice of the General calls out through the door, and your heart starts to beat quicker at the familiarity. He sounds so much like his father.

How heartbreaking that must be for his mother, you think, slowly following the others into the war room where the man dressed in black waits for you.

The old General was confirmed dead five years ago. According to a letter sent by his wife, he fell asleep peacefully one night and never woke up. After that letter was made public, you returned to the Palace as a new Soldier, hoping that the hard work in the palace will fill your mind with something other than grief and heartbreak and now you're standing in the office you've spend so much time in in your old life. The same rooms where you have surrendered your body and soul to the father of the new general.

The guilt and shame die in your stomach the second you look up at the man dressed in black, eyes widening and eyebrows shooting up.

You don't dare to make a sound, instead just staring at the tall man in front of you as he addresses Inessa and listens to her report of the mission. When his eyes finally find yours you almost expect him to prove you wrong, to simply look you over once before continuing and demonstrating to you that he just looks eerily similar to his father, but as soon as his eyes find yours his words cut off and his face goes slack.

Yes, this is the man you gave your virginity to. That fucker faked his death too. He held a stupid funeral after you were confirmed dead, left the palace ten years later to hang out in the woods or whatever, faked his death 35 years later through a letter acting like he's his own wife, and now he's here acting like he's his own son.

You would start giggling like a crazy person if the whole situation wasn't so fucking bizarre and infuriating.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asks, completely ignoring the confused looks of the others in the room.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here?"

You two stare at each other for a few seconds until Karina quietly coughs, probably to remind you two that others are in the room, and both of your heads snap over to her.

"Do you two know each other?" Inessa finally asks, and you almost jump to deny it, stopping yourself after realising how dumb of an idea that would be. You two clearly know each other.

"When I fled Ketterdam, I spent a few weeks with him and his mother before I came to the Little Palace." You explain without thinking, hoping that the tale you're weaving together makes at least a bit sense.

"I was wounded during my escape and exhausted, and while I travelled through Ravka, I was found by his mother, a healer. She took me in and let me stay with them for a few weeks before I continued to travel to the Little Palace. I didn't know that I was staying with the Darklings family."

The General looks at you for a few seconds, nodding very slowly like he's trying to make sure your words will enter his long term memory, before he looks back at the other Grisha, jaw clenching.

"I would like to have a conversation with my... my friend. Would you please come back later for the report? Perhaps tomorrow? You must all be terribly exhausted. Eat a meal and then return to your rooms. I will call for you when I find the time."

The four leave the room slowly, all of them pausing to stare at you as if you held back some incredibly important information and deeply betrayed the team, before the General stands up and opens the door again to send the Oprichniki outside away.

As soon as the door falls back into the lock, he storms into your direction, grabbing you by your shoulders and shaking you like a ragdoll.

"Stop! What are you doing?" you yell out, trying to slap his hands away and remove yourself from his ironlike grip. "Sasha!"

Finally, he lets you go, hands mowing to run through his hair and then over his beard.

"I held a funeral for you. I held a speech as well, talked about how much I regretted never asking you to join my personal guard."

His voice is cold and accusatory, as if you betrayed him deeply. In a way, you guess you did betray him, just a bit. "I looked for you for weeks after the Drüskelle attacked our camp. Weeks." he spits, and you can't stop yourself from folding your arms in front of your chest in defence.

"Well, you should've looked harder then! I was still in Ravka for two years after faking my death!" You're fuming now, the feeling of betrayal finally taking root in your heart as well. "And why do you act as if you're the only victim here? I grieved you when I found out you passed! Shit, I grieved when I heard you left the Little Palace to find a wife! Did you spend even a single second thinking of me after my disappearance? After my funeral?"

His hands ball up into fists, and his jaw clenches so tightly you almost worry if he's gonna break a tooth. The shadows in the war room grow longer, swallowing the sunlight bit by bit.

"Of course I grieved you. I loved you, you stupid fool. A mistake on my part, clearly, since it has now been revealed that I have fallen for lies and manipulation."

Scoffing angrily, you stomp your foot on the floor like a child, immediately regretting the action. "I did not lie to you! Not until I faked my death to protect myself!"

"Protect yourself from who?"

"From you! What was I supposed to do? Reveal myself as some immortal abomination of nature? Risk that you decide that I need to be killed?"

Now it's Aleksanders' turn to scoff, his eyebrows pulling together and turning his face into an angry grimace.

"Killed? Do you truly believe I would've killed you?"

"Of course I do! You would do anything, kill anyone, to make sure the Little Palace stays safe and secure. If the king found out I was immortal, it would've changed his opinion of Grisha overall. We would be classified as a risk to his rule again. Of course you would've killed me! So I did it for you, left that life behind, and continued with the next."

Aleksander stares at you for a few seconds, clearly trying to find some fault in your words, something to twist this whole conversation to make you seem like the villain, like he didn't do the exact same thing you did.

He turns his back to you, slowly walking over to the window to stare outside. "I don't even know why I listen to a liar like you. You have betrayed me, betrayed your fellow Grisha as well. How could I ever trust a single word coming from your mouth ever again?"

Saints, how you hate this overly dramatic side of his.

Slowly turning back towards you, he looks you up and down once more, his voice dripping in false pain, the underlying coldness betraying him. "Was I even the first to touch you? The first to lay claim on you? The first you surrendered your body to?"

You almost scream when the words finally sink in. "You don't get to make accusations like this! You have no right to question my honesty, least of all in a topic like this. And how hypocritical of you! I know this is my first time faking my death but how many times have you done this? How many centuries rest on your shoulders? How many people have you dragged to your bed? Because I know you were my first and last. If there is a harlot in this room it's not me!"

An exasperated expression finds its way onto his face, but he doesn't deny your accusation. Instead, he turns back to the window, taking a few deep breaths before he spins around, crossing the room in three long steps. His large hands grab your face harshly, pulling you toward him before his lips press against yours, beard scratching slightly against your skin.

The kiss is not soft, far from it, actually. It's all spit and teeth, clearly showing off how angry and out of practice you two are, like two instruments that play in different tempos.

After a few seconds however, you both start to slow down a bit, the kiss turning softer as you both fully realize that you both are alive, that you didn't loose each other to a Drüskelle attack or the cruel passing of time. You have found each other again, and while you don't know why you're not dead, why time didn't claim you, you decide that it doesn't matter. Not while you're in the arms of the man you've missed for half a century.

The why's and how's can be answered tomorrow, after he devoured you.

"There was no one after you." he speaks after breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing against yours while he lets you breathe for a bit.

"l will not lie to you, not any more than I already have. There have been people before you, but there was no one afterwards. Not while I stayed in the palace and not afterwards. I loved you - love you - too much to move on."

His hands softly caress your cheeks before he presses a kiss on your forehead, breathing in the smell of your hair before his forehead finds yours again. "I know it's probably not particularly obvious, but I'm so glad that you're alive. I'm so, so glad to see that you didn't die."

Aleksanders arm carefully wraps around your middle before he pulls you closer to him and lifts you into the air, his other hand moving your head to rest in the space between his neck and shoulder, carefully stroking over your hair.

You wrap your own arms around him, fingers digging into the back of his black kefta as tears begin to fill your eyes. His familiar smell enters your nose and lungs, it's warmth and familiarity making you feel vulnerable in his arms.

"Sasha," you whisper, your voice wavering a bit. He hushes you softly before he begins moving, carrying you in the direction of his bedroom. "Tomorrow, milaya. We will talk tomorrow. We will fight some more, scream at each other, throw inexcusable insults at each others heads, and then we will forgive. Tonight I just want to have you. Let me have you, hold you, touch you. That's all I want right now. Let me feel your living skin under my fingertips, my love."

He drops you carefully onto the familiar dark sheets, and as you look up at him, you're reminded of the dozens of times you've laid on these sheets before today.

Finally, you nod. "Tomorrow," you echo before grabbing Aleksanders shirt and pulling him back down to let your lips meet his once more.

—

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