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hadesnumber1daughter · 10 months ago

Text

Pretty like the sun

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Apollo daughter OC (she classes as an oc cause I gave her a name but you can just read it like your name or Y/N if you want, I just feel better when I'm writing and the characters have names :)

Summary: Percy has always felt something for you, something that you had felt aswell. These quests of life and death finally knocked some sense into you two.

Warnings: Blood, Pain, Agony, Violence, Weapons, Wounds, Wound treating, Curse words, Oblivious idiots, Fluff, Angsty??, Sexual tension, Mutual pining, Almost death, Non-Canon, Hugs, Kisses, Holding hands, Ooc Percy??? Cerberus as a violent dog (ik she isnt really but this is my imagine so idc), Not proof-read, GUT-WRENCHING LOVE, IDK how i wrote this considering I've never been in a relationship OR have ever had an actual crush in my 16 sad years of life

Words: 6.3k

Notes: This is my first imagine so I'm sorry if its bad😭😭. Also if anyone would be willing to give me a few pointers when it comes to working this app as a creator please do cause, yeah I've been using this app for years but I have no idea how to use it when it comes to posting things. I would be very grateful. ❤️❤️❤️. Also, if anyone wants to request something else for me to write I would love to write something for either Percy or Luke, I'll probably make a list of people who I'm willing to write for later today cause it is 10am rn and I haven't slept so I'll just go bed after this 😭😭😭

As soon as percy got handed this quest, with Grover being part of the cloven council and Annabeth being gone to spend time with her family, Percy knew his immediate first choice would be Aurora, there was no doubt about it. The Apollo girl had a spark about her that has drawn him in the second he laid eyes on her.

He had deemed it because she was a daughter of Apollo so there would always be some sort of light that would draw him in, but he hasnt been very sure of that for a very long time. Every time he laid eyes on her, it felt as though time stood still and she was the only source of light and happiness in this dark, gloomy world.

They had became extremely close when he first came to camp, she taught him the ropes in archery as to put it plainly, he was absolutely shit at it. He had no aim and his stance was awful, in her own words.

When she first said that to him, he wanted to throw her in a dumpster, but then he saw her, he properly saw her. He didnt know what Aphrodite looked like, but he was sure she would be a spitting image of the girl. He was even more sure that she was a daughter of Aphrodite but instead she was not, which made sense as to why she was hanging around the archery booth. From that day forward, she helped him freshen his archery skills, and he helped her with her sword skills.

He has never understood why she wouldnt ask Luke as he was the best swords-man and would probably be a better trainer. However, when he brough it up to her one time her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit and she stated how she was helping him, so he should do that same.

That's how they have ended up here. In the middle of nowhere, trying to find and 'kill' a beast that has been accidently lost and let out from the underworld and send it back. Although quests always have 3 people on them, the oracle specifically stated that this was only a 2 person job. Percy had never been so sure in picking Aurora at that moment in time.

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"Are you sure we are going the right way Perce, I swear I've seen this tree 3 times already" Aurora stated this time taking a dagger and marking said tree with an X so if they do cross it again, she would be right.

"You never trust my navigation skills sunshine, why is that, is it cause you always get lost in my eyes" he says turning to look at her with a smug smile on his face. The girl abruptly stopped at his turn and could feel the blood rush to her cheeks in that moment, her honey-brown eyes immediately locked with his water coloured eyes and she broke the gaze, not letting him have the satisfaction of being right.

"You wish seaweed brain" she muttered and walked past him knocking into his shoulder in the process which led to him letting out a dramatic gasp.

"That hurts sunshine. Where are you going, it's getting dark, we should stop, set up camp and get some rest so we can re-think and re-strategize." The girl slowly stops her steps and turns her back to the boy who is standing there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed giving her a cocky glance that makes her want to die and kill him at the same time.

The two had a stand-off for a bit before one decided to speak up.

"As long as I don't have to scavenge this creepy forest for wood then its fine by me" the girl said walking back to him while his eyes following her every movement till she was a few steps away from him. The girl went to grab something from her pocket with her left hand and with her right, she grabbed the boys arms and dragged her hand down it, to his hand which automatically opened up. She placed something cold into it with her left hand.

He looked at her and she had a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen for the past 12 hours, looking to his palm, he was a coin. Not just any ordinary coin or ordinary drachma. It was a coin from sea life, the one coin they give to one another which can be used for many thing, they talked it over before the quest. The coin can only be used for 2 things during this quest, to make sure the other doesnt die, or the person who has been handed the coin has to do what the person giving the coin wants no matter what.

He looked up at her with a confused look but seeing the mischief in her eyes gave enough away. Sighing he pocketed the coin and stepped away from the tree which only left 3 steps in-between the two.

"What do you want me to do" not even bothering arguing.

"I want to see you fail at making a fire" she said just giving him the brightest smile, basically oozing sunlight from her. The boy felt like a deer stuck in headlights in that moment, he almost forgot the reason for her heavenly smile. He wanted to tell her he loved her right there and then, that he could never get enough of her, that he searched for her in every room he ever walked into, that she was the one and only constant source of light in his life, that she was the sun and he would orbit her in every universe no matter how close he got, no matter how much it destroyed him. He was utterly inconsolable without her. He loved her.

"Aurora" the boy started to say, in a serious tone which immediately made the girl's smile falter as she looked into his eyes, he didnt need to say anything. His eyes spoke more words than he would have liked, enough for the girl to get the message and understand him. All of the glances, the subtle touches, the comfort of each other like no other. She felt and understood it all.

He was about of continue when a roar sounded, echoing in all directions and rustling the trees. The two could hear the howl of Cerberus all around them. Percy immediately uncapped riptide while Aurora unclasped her bracelet which turned into a bow and an unlimited supply of arrows.

The both circled back to back, covering each others blind spot like muscle memory. They could feel the ground shake with each step the otherworldly creature took.

"How are we going to do this?" the girl asked while keeping an eye on all of her surroundings.

"You distract with your arrows as they are long-range and while she's focused on you, I'll go for the kill shot"

"She can't die" she could feel him rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth.

"You know what I mean"

They could hear the low growl from the side of them. The three-headed beast emerged in all its glory with its 6 menacing eyes ready to rip these two teens to shreds and send the wrong beings in this equation to the underworld. Percy turned to stand next to Aurora and the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed to which he immediately responded. There were many unspoken words that had been said in the past 10 minutes and this was another addition 'dont die, be safe, come back to me'.

Slipping through her fingers, his hand left hers and quietly stalked away before the beast could get any idea there were 2 of them. Wishing the best for the boy, she instantly got the dogs attention by shooting an arrow at the middle head's nose.

It did not like that.

They all barked at once and got ready to run at the girl. She didn't like to admit it but she was fucking terrified. Cerberus ran at her and she leapt to the side and ran as fast as she could not looking back until she could feel he's a little away from her. She got another arrow ready in her bow and blindly shot it behind her.

She heard a small whimper which brought a smirk to her face but that was immediately wiped away as she heard the barking intensify. Hiding behind a tree the girl caught her breaths and looked for the hound and she couldnt spot it or Percy. She got another arrow ready and looked behind the tree once again but was faced with the thing she was hunting.

Fear spread to every part of her body and she had no time to brace the impact as the dog clawed the tree which in return clawed her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was flung into another tree. The bark from the destroyed tree splintered her, her head hit against a tree on impact and the large gash on her side felt like a fire that was melting her skin off. The girl felt her breath stick in her throat, she felt as though she was dying as immense pain filled her and black spots invaded her vision. Only one other thing was on her mind.

Percy.

The ocean eyed boy lost sight of Cerberus immediately as it began to chase Aurora, his Aurora. He followed as fast as he could not wanting anything bad to happen to the girl he loved before he got any chance to be with her, to confess and to just live a life content with his feelings.

As he heard, the whoosh of Aurora's arrows increase, he could feel himself being uncapable of keeping up with the beast from the underworld and he cursed himself for it. He lost sight of Cerberus and it scared him, it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the creature or the girl he loved.

His heartbeat quickened as he looked all around him trying to see a glimpse of either of them.

Then all blood drain out of his face when he heard the one sound he wished he did not have to hear, ever. Aurora's scream made his heart almost leap out of his chest. He didnt know what to do, he didnt know where she was, he couldnt see the hound, its his fault, she going to die because of him.

She most certainly is going to die if you dont get a fucking move on, that one voice in his head said. And he pushed all the doubts to the back of his head and focused on 2 things. Defeating Cerberus and finding Aurora.

He could hear the three-headed dogs footsteps and instantly ran to it. It didnt see him coming and it's tail was on the ground so he didnt the best thing he could think of. He ran up the tail onto the body of the beast.

This elicited loud barking from the beast and Percy could only do one thing. Repeatedly stab the dog until it dissolved.

Now... admittedly, this was not a good strategy. It was fucking awful. There was no thought to his stabs, they all just angered the beast and considering she was quite resistance to stabs, it wasnt helping. He was just tiring himself out.

He then has the genius idea of stabbing the beast in the eye, or eyes. He started with the left head. The beast let out a large whimper, and stumbled which cause the boy to almost loose his grip on it. He wasnt going to stop now, he needed to send Cerberus back and get to Aurora.

Aurora. Her scream was echoing in his mind. Bouncing around his skull like he has no brain inside, only her gut-wrenching scream.

He subtly shook his head. As much as he was dreading where she was and if she was okay. He needed to secure Cerberus and he needed all attention to so it as fast a possible to get back to his sunshine.

He then stabbed riptide into both the right heads eyes. Percy knew what to expect this time so he braced himself and held on as tight as he could. He could not fail now. He was too close.

The dog slumped onto the floor which made percy's last task much more easier. With agility and caution the boy leapt onto the middle head and punctured the eyes out which evoked a whimper which made the boy feel bad for the animal and it slowly turned to dust.

In an instant the boy caught his breath and his mind raced with only one thing.

Aurora.

"Aurora! Sunshine! Where are you?" The boy felt as though he could not breathe. His head was spinning trying to find her in the mountains of trees and in the darkness of this forest, he has never needed to see her more now than any other time.

"Aurora! Please if you can hear me make a sound! Anything so I know you're alive" He would never leave her. He would die before he left her to rot in these woods. He would never be able to face the guilt and loss.

"Please! Say SOMETHING" he could feel himself getting frustrated. "HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE" tears welded in his eyes trying to find her.

There was a rustle of leaves from the left side behind him. He was running to the sound before it even registered in the back of his mind. He kept hearing the rustling and a small whimper.

He saw a faint glow of light behind a tree and he held his breath for the sight that was to come. He skidded to a stop and fell on his knees infront of her.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw her. Her face was significantly paler than when he left her and she had a wood splinter sticking out of her thigh and worst of all, the 4 claw marks across her abdomen with blood everywhere, it seemed to have stopped pouring, but it was a nauseating sight to see. He didnt know what to do.

"Aurora, darling, open your eyes" his hands reached her cheeks and his thumb rubbed circled on her cheek and his two fingers made their way to her neck to check her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. It was faint but not too faint to the point it would slip too far out of his grasp.

He reached for his bag on his back to get some first aid supplies, ambrosia and nectar for the girl, when she let out a pained gasp.

The girl had barely an recollection of anything, the only thing on her mind at the moment was the immense pain shooting through her whole body, It felt like she was on fire and couldnt breathe. She wanted to die.

Then her vision cleared and she saw the golden haired boy looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world, he held so much worry in his eyes that she thought for a second if she was already dead and it was her spirit seeing his reaction to her death.

"Gods, Aurora, you're okay. You had be so worried, I was terrified, I cannot lose you. If I lost you I would lose myself" The boy held one hand to her cheek while speaking so intently to her.

In that one moment she could feel his stare, like clockwork, bubble something inside of her. It almost made her forget why she was on the ground, why she could taste something metallic in the back of her mouth, why she couldnt move her right leg. It almost took it away. Almost.

That fire spread throughout her body again and she couldnt stop the wail that left her mouth. The pain was nauseating. A flood of curses left Percy's mouth as he grabbed the bottle of nectar and opened it.

"Okay, sunshine, I know you're in a lot of pain but I'm going to give you some nectar, you need to drink it but you need to sit up a little straighter." The girl immediately shook her head as a no in response to the boy.

"I know. The amount of times we've both had to do it but you know deep down that its the only thing that will fix it." The girl tried to harden her stare at the boy but she was too weak to even look at him properly.

"O-okay, but... I can't" she inhaled sharply as she tried to move the slightest bit. She didn't have to finish her sentence for the boy to understand what she was trying to say. He took one his flannel button ups from his bag, scrunched it up and gave it to her. She could only give him a confused look.

"Put it in your mouth, bite down hard cause I'm gonna move you into the right position and its gonna be a pain. I'm sorry sunshine but I have to." She took it with her shaking hands and was about to put it in her mouth when she smelt it, sea salt and musk, then the girl really looked at what the item of clothing was.

"this is yours" she said in a hoarse voice, looking up at him, confusion plastered all over her features.

"Well I dont exactly know where your bag is so next best thing." he gave her a weak smile and moved closer to her but she weakly grabbed his hand.

"I'm scared" she whispered so pathetically but the boy understood, he knew her. He knew that he needed to keep talking to her, to make sure he is doing something close enough to her for her to know that she's still alive.

He only interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I won't let go, I promise. You aren't leaving me, not after everything we have been through together" the girl's eyes welled with tears but she nodded and stuffed her mouth with Percy's flannel.

He wrapped his arms around her from the side, where he was sitting and placed a kiss in the hair before counting down.

"3...2..." the boy didnt get to 1 before he pulled her up so she was sitting not laying down and with the movement came muffled screams and tears that flowed down the girls face. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she lent into him and he repeatedly kissed her hair or forehead.

"I'm sorry sunshine, I really am. When you're all better I promise you can hit me" he tried to uplift her but she could barely hear him. Her body shook and agony filled her every sense. He couldn't even express the guilt and regret he felt for the girl, immediately grabbing the nectar, and slowly taking his flannel out of her mouth.

"You're doing great sweetheart" he says while slowly pouring the nectar into her mouth. Her head is resting against his shoulder as she swallows the drink down in small sips. After she drank it, Percy put it away and the girl began to close her eyes.

"Hey, hey, sunshine you can't be doing that right now. Come on I need to patch you up and then we need to get back to camp, I'll call blackjack. I know how much you like riding on him" he lifts her head off his shoulder and places her on the tree, but this time sitting up so he has easy access to her abdomen.

She opened one eye and slightly smiled at the boy.

"You're gonna call blackjack?" the girl asked a bit delirious but seemingly in less pain. This brought a instant smile to him as he let out a chuckle, nodding his head while grabbing gauze and 2 bandage rolls.

"I promise I will, but you have to make sure to keep fighting okay. Once this is over, I have something special to tell you" He came loser to the girl and her breath slowed for a moment.

He looked at her abdomen and a thought crossed his head that made blood rush to his cheeks, he was thankful the girl was delirious and it was dark or else he would simply wallow away. He cleared his throat and looked back up to the girl.

"I'm going to have to cut your shirt off so I can access the cuts and clean them properly" he looked into her eyes once but couldnt face her after that.

"okay" she whispered in return, locking her eyes onto his every move.

The boy went back into his bag and grabbed a pair of scissors then faced the girl again. He could feel her watchful eyes on him the entire time and he hated to say it but that small voice in the back of his head was wishing she was a bit more delirious right now so he wasnt under her scrutiny while undressing her. Clearing his throat again, he begins to speak.

"Just tell me when to slow down or when to stop, if it gets too painful for you and I'll stop and slow down, okay" he looked to her for reassurance and an okay, to which she nodded.

He didn't know how to position himself so he just opted for kneeling next to her, facing her. He then grabbed the scissors and started to cut her top. Starting from the bottom to the top. As he reached the first claw mark the girl hissed as the shirt was stuck to the wound due to all the dried blood. Percy automatically stopped what he was doing.

"No, no, keep going, don't stop now otherwise we will never get this done and I can't go back to camp cause I'll be dead" her honey-brown eyes were glossed with tears and the boy just wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time in a place where they aren't fighting monsters all the damn time and in a place where they can settle down, have fun and just enjoy their life like regular teenagers.

"Don't say that so casually, you are not going to die. Not when you have me. Not when I'll always be here for you, patching you up, nursing you back to health forever. I will never in a million years let you die. I swear on the river Styx."

She couldn't say anything to him, he will always render her speechless. She just nodded her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks to which he wiped away and placed a kiss on her forehead. Feeling the warmth off eachother brought a sense of peace to them that no one else could ever fill.

He finished wiping her tears away and then continued cutting her shirt away from the wound. Every time she hissed, winced or flinched, the boy had the overwhelming urge to stop everything he was doing as long as it stopped bring her more pain. Whenever this would happen, the girl would softly squeeze his knee, as her hand was resting there to make sure he was still close to her and was still okay and breathing.

This reassured him immensely but it did not stop him from the guilt that was drowning him. This would not have happened if it wasn't for him. She would not be in this position right now if he just chose someone else to go on the quest with. She had almost died due to his decision making. He chose her, he told her the plan, the plan that put her straight into danger, he didnt even second guess his choice, he put her into the battlefield without even asking her properly. Whatever he said went.

The boy had not realised that during his intense self-loathing session, he zoned out and stopped the task at hand.

"Perce?" the girl asked while bringing her hand from his knee to his bicep. "Are you okay? whats going on in your kelp filled brain?" she said with a half smile as the boy looked up at her.

"Nothing, its okay. Just zoned out for a sec" he replied in an instant, looked away from her and continued to cut her shirt away. He was almost at her breasts and he could feel himself getting a bit hot. Obviously, there was no reason to in this situation but just being so close and intimate to her in a non sexual way made him flustered, he couldn't even imagine of it was in a sex- STOP. He shouted at his brain.

She let out a whimper of pain and a few laboured breaths as Percy carefully peeled her shirt of off the biggest wound she had. Her hand squeezed his knee harder than he would have liked her to but it didnt matter, not anymore, not when he caused this, not when he was the reason for her pain.

He finally got it off the biggest cut and last cut and now he just had to cut the rest of the shirt off. No big deal right?

WRONG.

The boy was telling himself to suck it up and just cut the rest of her shirt off but he was flustered. It was times like this that made him remember he was just a boy. He was just a boy with a silly crush. Except it isnt a 'silly crush' he was utterly in love with the girl. He tried to clear his head and at the same time, cleared his throat while he cut higher.

He could feel her eyes watching him, he could feel how fast her heart was racing and he could feel how fast his own was racing. It was as though their hearts were in sync. Every beat was the same.

Yes the girl felt flustered in this situation, she also couldn't help but want to tease the boy she loved. The girl had always grown up with a life where she never 'loved' anyone, not truly. To her love was always a very strong word in her dictionary but whatever she felt for Percy Jackson it was so powerful she felt as though she needed a word more meaningful than love.

A word that expressed how everytime she thought of him, that specific memory of him will be branded in her brain forever to the point where even Hera could never make her forget him or forget the way he makes her feel.

He makes her feel alive, the most alive shes every felt in her 16 years of life.

"Are you blushing water boy?" the girl asked him with a half smile on her face and eyes half opened as she felt a sharp pain run through her, while also trying to control her own breathing at the same time. Percy didn't respond, he only kept cutting her shirt off, fingers lightly brushing over the material of her bra.

She held her breath when he did that, whether it was on purpose of not, the feeling it sent through her body made her want to repeatedly bash her head against a solid wall while ripping her eyes out... in a good way of course.

Percy finally cut her shirt fully off and it just slid down her arms and bunched at the bottom, near the tree. She felt exposed and could feel the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Percy didn't waste any time and grabbed a clean towel and his water bottle.

Before he could drenched it in water, she stopped him by kicking him with her uncompromised leg to indicate he needed to stop. This instantly stopped him and caused him to look at her.

"Give me the water bottle before you soak the towel, if the water is warm it will work better and not hurt as much so i'll just heat it up" Percy thought about it for a second before he retaliated.

"You already aren't well enough to get off the ground, how on earth are you going to make it back to camp if you drain yourself of more energy. I know its going to hurt but it will either way, but getting you back to camp is the priority at the moment" Percy didnt want to say those words to the girl, he felt so bad for her and he couldn't help but blame himself. And when he looked into her eyes, like really looked into her eyes after he said that, he wished he could take it back.

Just looking at her made him want to give into her.

"I can take it, I promise, I'll be okay enough to get back to camp, but I'm telling you now Percy, if I feel anymore extreme pain, I will just end up passing out. Please just let me do this." she tried to move closer to the boy but forgot about the fact that she literally could not move a single inch without his help.

This just lead the boy to wrap his arm around her back and lent her against the tree again. He looked at her with a stern look.

"Okay, you win. But you have to promise on the river Styx that you will preserve every other bit of your energy for the ride back home."

"I swear on the River Styx that I will preserve every other bit of my energy for the ride back to camp" He gave her one last look before giving her the water bottle. She focused some most of her energy to her hands and they started to glow. She took the bottle from percy's hand and he could feel the warmth radiate off of her.

He looked at her in awe but if anyone else was there they would have told you that the boy was love struck. She opened her eyes and made sure to not boil the water. As it was simmering, she gave the bottle back to the boy and he instantly uncapped it and poured the, now warm, water onto the towel.

"This is going to hurt... a lot, and by a lot i mean a lot, you might want to brace yourself" the boy said as he gave his flannel back to her and some ambrosia for her to eat before they start the painful part of fixing her up.

Aurora took both and muttered a small thanks under her breath before eating the ambrosia which was very pleasant to chew and then stuffed percy's flannel in her mouth again. She felt so weird but if she didnt and someone heard her scream bloody murder, they would get caught and the police would want them... again.

His ocean blue eyes met her honey eyes and he shared a look of regret and guilt before he wiped the dried blood away, starting from the bottom of her abdomen. She instantly clenched her jaw and recoiled as agony ran through her and her hand immediately shot out to grab Percy's wrist in a painfully tight hold to stop him from further cleaning the wounds that caused her pain.

"Sunshine, I know its painful, but I have to do this, I'm going to do this as fast and gently as I can but I will have to be rough at times" he gently takes his freehand to clasp over hers and took it of him and intertwined them while speaking to her.

In his favour, it seemed that the energy it took the girl to warm the water up finally caught up with her as her hand lost most of its grip and her eyes closed slightly. He chuckled slightly and placed her hand back down next to her before continuing what he was doing.

He carefully but efficiently cleaned the areas surrounding her wounds while she was rejuvenating. He would hear muffled noises from time to time but other than that she was essentially knocked out. As he finished she seemed to feel less tired and her eyes opened wider than they did before.

"I'm almost finished sunshine, did you like your nap?" the boy questioned with a smirk but deep down he was glad that she kept her promise and she would have enough energy to go back to camp.

The girl nodded and looked at her abdomen. It was really clean and the wounds were barely bleeding anymore but she was fucking freezing. She shivered a little bit and percy could tell instantly.

"I've just got to bandage you up then you can put a jumper on. Okay?" he reassured her while taking the sterile dressing, he placed it over the 4 slashes and began to unwrap the dressing to bandage her up.

They both soon found the position to be quite awkward.

Percy needed to bandage her whole abdomen which needed him to wrap the dressing over her back but she was lent up against the tree without a shirt on and unable to move to do it herself. He stopped to think of a good way to do this.

"Okay, I've got it. I'll lean you up against me and bandage your abdomen from behind." The girl thought for a bit before she agreed and the boy got up so he was only seen in her peripheral vision. He hooked his arms under hers and moved her along the ground to sit inbetween his legs. The position felt very compromising for both of them but it needed to be done.

She could feel his warm breath on her cold neck and she felt the urge to pass away because if thats how she passed, she would not mind. She held her breath as Percy begun wrapping her abdomen, she could barely feel the pain cause all she could think about and feel was him.

His breath on her neck, his fingers brushing her skin, how carefully he was handling her, like she would break at the wrong touch. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything they both deserved.

He quickly finished wrapping her up and he mentally called Blackjack from where ever he was right now. Before he could move or start to get things sorted he just looked at Aurora. She was peaceful. She looked ethereal under the moonlight, though she did look better under direct sunlight.

He decided to just stay still for a bit and wrapped an arms around the girl loosely as to not injure or hurt her more. They just needed some rest, no matter how long or short it was.

Both Aurora and Percy could hear the flap of Blackjacks wings so he quickly moved the girl back to lean against the tree while he packed everything away. Not before making sure to torniquet the girls leg where the wood piece was still protruding out of it. He made the decision before to not take it out as they both did not know how severe the injury underneath it was.

Percy grabbed a warm, woolly jumper from his bag and a blanket and gave both items to the girl before zipping it up.

"I'm going to find your bag and your bracelet before we leave, and before you say anything. I'm going to call Blackjack here to be with you before I look for them" he stated as he got up.

"Thanks a lot Perce, but before you look, how am I meant to put this jumper on without raising my arms and disrupting my bandages" Percy felt like an idiot. He dropped his bag back on the ground and knelt next to her carefully putting the jumper through one arms hole, then the next, then her head through.

Percy would never admit it there and then but he always loved when the girl would wear his clothes. It sent a warm fuzzy feeling through him knowing she was wearing his clothes, especially when she was willingly wearing his clothes.

Similarly, Aurora would never admit it there but having Percy help her get changed into his clothes and help clean her up made her fall even more in love with him if that was even possible. She felt as though she was just falling into deep pit everytime he did anything for her or even just looked her way.

He finished by wrapping her up in the blanket and chuckled when he saw how she looked... Exactly like a burrito.

Blackjack came down and the girls eyes instantly widened at the sight of the creature. To which the boy just smiled at. Before he left to retrieve her bag and bracelet which were very easy to find. He quickly arrived back to the girl and Pegasus and was met with an adorable sight.

The Pegasus was on the floor next to the girl and was almost hugging her with its wing. Percy didnt think he could fall in love with the girl again but she has gone and proved him wrong, like always.

"I've got your things sunshine, and I know its going to hurt but I'm going to have to pick you up to put you on Blackjack. Is that okay?" He knelt next to her and she nodded.

He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, making sure not to hit the piece of wood and picked the girl up, quite easily, bridal style. It make them both feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even blackjack could feel the warmth.

He placed her sitting on the Pegasus so she would be infront of him when he got on. He then grabbed both of their bags and got onto blackjack himself.

"You'd normally need to hold on tight to blackjack but I'll hold you okay? Just rest" The boy whispered in her ear as he gave her a peck on her cheek while she slowly drifted off and leaned her head back onto the boy's shoulder.

"Blackjack, No crazy flying today. We aren't at war today, its a rest day. Just take us back to camp, quick but not to the point we normally fly." Blackjacks reply left Percy with pink staining his cheeks and they made their way back to camp.

______________________________________________________________

OH MY FUCKING DAYS, I AM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING THIS LONG AGAIN

(such a fucking lie)

But I have to honest, apart from the small mental breakdowns. This was really fun to write. I love these two soo much.

When I went into this, I wanted to actually get them back to camp and I wanted them to confess but it was getting tooooooo long for that so if anyone wants a part 2, I'll gladly make it. Please dont critique me too much, this is still my first imagine 😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️❤️

unless you piss me off

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toruskiii · 7 months ago

Text

I got you.

Synopsis: reluctantly going to a party, you're offered a drink by a persistent creep despite your refusal. But no worries, your best friend is there to help.

Genre: fluff (modern au!)

Character: Best friend!Blade x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, tension between you and Blade, partying, all characters mentioned here are as of age. Blade takes a hit (drink) for you lol. Reader wears heels.

Edit: holy shit I wrote this before I played hsr so this is very ooc whoops

[masterlist] [about me]

Both you and Blade were not ones to attend parties regularly. Instead, both of you often preferred the tranquility of your own dorm or the serene sounds of nature and music, rather than the cacophony of loud, unpleasant remixes of popular songs or the aroma of cigarettes and alcohol.

Despite the constant pleas from both Kafka and Silver Wolf for you and Blade to "live a little" and "socialize," the two of you reluctantly agreed. As soon as you both stepped foot into the party, the overpowering smell of alcohol and the unmistakable odor of someone's vomit assaulted your senses, causing you to cringe slightly.

"Oh god, this smells awful," you muttered to Blade, who nodded with a furrowed brow in agreement.

"Can we leave?" He glanced at the plastic red cups littering the floor, expressing his dissatisfaction with a grunt when someone accidentally bumped into him while walking past.

"We did promise Kafka and Silver Wolf we'd come. We can't back out now," you shrugged, feeling uncomfortable amid the overcrowded gathering.

"I'm gonna go and look for Kafka," you sighed, giving Blade's shoulder a gentle nudge. "Care to join?"

"I'll just stand in a corner," he replied, his expression deadpan as he surveyed the scene of inebriated youths. His hands instinctively delved into his pockets, retrieving his phone. "I'd rather not hunt them down either, or they'll rope me into playing pool or some other nonsense."

With a pout, you rolled your eyes and ventured into the sea of people. Navigating through, you murmured small apologies each time you bumped into someone.

The shitty TikTok blue lights only made it worse, casting an eerie glow and making it harder to avoid the random liquids (that you really hoped weren't more vomit or some other disgusting shit) on the floor.

"Where the hell are they?" you muttered to yourself, feeling increasingly lost in the chaotic party scene. Somehow, you stumbled your way into the host's kitchen, hoping for a moment of respite.

As you pondered your next move, someone tapped your shoulder, jolting you out of your thoughts. "Huh— Kafka— oh," you began, turning around to find yourself face to face with a stranger you've never encountered before. Arching an eyebrow, you tilted your head inquisitively. "Can I...help you?"

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to startle you," the guy offered a small smile, shaking his head in understanding. You took note of his wavy brown locks and the plain button-up he wore, but your focus remained on finding your friends rather than anything else. "Are you looking for something? You seem lost."

Feeling a tad embarrassed, you chuckled nervously. "Oh, uh... I'm just trying to find my friends. Um... Kafka and Silver Wolf, you know them?"

"Ah, those two. I think I saw them at the ping pong table in the backyard," he replied.

"Thanks," you nodded dryly, averting your gaze. Just as you were about to leave, he spoke once again.

"Drink?" he smirked, holding out a cup of what you assumed was beer or something.

"I don't drink," you waved him off, feeling a little uncomfortable now as he pushed the cup towards you. "I'm not into alcohol, dude."

"That's a shame. It tastes good," he remarked, letting out a huff as he continued to hold out the drink to you. "It's actually a good thing to be able to tolerate alcohol, you know? It's useful for business parties and making friends."

You frowned, staring at him skeptically and then at the cup with uncertainty. Were you easily persuaded? No. But the way he was yapping right now made you feel the urge to just drink it and get it over with. However, you weren't foolish enough to do something so reckless. "I never said I had a bad tolerance, I just said I'm not into alcohol."

"Just a sip wouldn't hurt—" the man persisted, but before he could finish his sentence, a low voice interrupted.

"Thanks for the drink."

A chill ran down your spine as a hand appeared behind you, swiftly grabbing the drink from your shoulder. It then looped around your neck, pulling you into a loose chokehold. Your eyes widened in recognition and apprehension as you realized who it was.

"Blade—?" you gasped, feeling a mixture of surprise and annoyance as he continued to hold you in his grasp. His red eyes narrowed into a menacing glare, causing the other man to back off with a mumbled excuse as he hastily left the kitchen, leaving you and Blade alone.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought you said you were gonna stand in a corner," you whined, lightly tapping Blade's arm to prompt him to release you. He simply shrugged, rolling his eyes before letting go and raising the cup to his lips.

"I was trying to find the toilet until I saw a shit-stained towel in the tub and lipstick smudges on the damn toilet lid. Lost my urge to pee," he grunted, taking a sip from the cup.

"Wait, don't drink that—" you nagged, suddenly worried that the drink might contain something harmful. But before you could finish, Blade turned around and spat out the drink into the sink, coughing in disgust. "Oh my god."

"Did he fucking pour apple cider vinegar in here? This tastes like shit!" Blade groaned, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he hurled the cup into the sink. "He sucks at hooking up ladies if he hands out godforsaken drinks like these."

"Stupid," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you rummaged through the kitchen, searching for a glass of water for Blade. "I thought you hated drinking. Why on earth did you do that?"

Blade wiped his mouth, turning on the tap to rinse his mouth with water. "Figured that if the drink did contain drugs, I'd be the best subject to test it on," he muttered, offering you a silent thanks as you handed him the glass of water.

"That's dangerous," you frowned, crossing your arms and watching him run a hand through his hair as he drank the water.

"I didn't want to risk you getting drugged either," he added quietly.

A moment of silence enveloped the kitchen, interrupted only by the corny music blaring in the background as the lights gradually faded to a deep red hue.

The two of you stood in the kitchen, with Blade hovering over the sink and you leaning against the counter, savoring the rare moments of tranquility.

Lost in your own thoughts, you zoned out, gazing downward and fixating on nothing in particular, longing for nothing more than to be back home.

Meanwhile, Blade stole glances at you from the corner of his eyes, his expression unreadable amidst the dimly lit ambiance.

"Let's just go home," he suddenly blurted out, swiftly washing the cup and stowing it away. "Screw those two."

You lifted your head to look at him, uncrossing your arms in agreement. "Yeah," you mumbled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at the suggestion.

He noticed your discomfort, his gaze drifting down to the outfit you wore and the heels on your feet. "They hurt?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the blaring speakers.

Confusion clouded your expression as you struggled to hear him amidst the loud music. He sighed, gesturing towards your heels. "Your heels. Are they hurting your feet?" he repeated, more insistently this time. When you still didn't catch on, he groaned and suddenly dropped to his knees, his hands gently brushing against your calves as he lifted one foot.

"What the fuck—" you began, startled by his sudden action, your eyes widening in disbelief. "Blade!"

"Take 'em off," he mumbled, his voice softer now as he noticed a small bruise on the back of your ankle, evidence of the discomfort caused by your tight shoes.

"Dumbass! I'm not stepping out of here barefoot with all that disgusting shit on the floor!" you yelled, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the sight of him down on his knees for you. Your hands tightened their grip on the counter as you watched him slide off your heels.

"I'll carry you then," he retorted, his tone determined as he lifted you by the hips, effortlessly settling you on the counter so your feet wouldn't touch the grimy floor.

"You—" you began to retaliate, but your words fell silent as you were rendered speechless by his offer. "You..."

"C'mon," he urged, pursing his lips as he turned around, positioning himself for you to piggyback him. "You better get on before I change my mind. You know I don't do favors like this," he sneered, his tone teasing yet firm.

You gulped, feeling a mixture of nerves and gratitude as your hands trembled while gripping onto his shoulders. With shaky breaths, you wrapped your legs around his waist as you felt his hands slide under your thighs to support you, letting out a grunt of effort.

"...am I not heavy?" you whispered, your breath grazing the shell of his ear.

He shook his head, standing up straight now. The scent of his cologne somehow managed to calm your nerves as you rested your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace.

"No. I literally bench double your weight," he reassured you.

"No need to flex."

He piggybacked you through the crowd, disregarding the stares directed at him, while you felt awkward and embarrassed under the attention. He couldn't care less, knowing that most of the crowd was either too drunk to remember or too preoccupied with their own activities.

"Next time, just stay by my side," he whispered, finally stepping outside of the party.

"Mm...yeah, yeah," you yawned, your voice muffled by the softness of his jacket. "Thanks."

"And don't chug down the drinks next time."

"Yeah, yeah."

#honkai star rail #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade x you #blade x gender neutral reader #hsr x gender neutral reader

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thegeeksideofsr · 3 months ago

Text

Midnight Snack

Summery: Nate's daughter' period is a pain, literally and figuratively. Sent home to relax, and receives a late night visitor.

A/n: This is entirely self indulgence. I was on my period, had cramps and wanted cuddles. But alas. I am single. So this was made. Eliot might be a little OOC, but whatever. It's fluffy.

The kitchen is a buzz with activity. Kate works with the pastry chef and over sees the line cooks prepping at their stations, the prep cooks prepare ingredients and portioning them out, and the bussers setting tables up.

I sit at the bar talking with the sommelier, Alice, and bartender, Duncan, about the wine list, the drinks available, and the influx of minors trying to buy alcohol.

I try to pay attention to them, but my cramps are taking over, going from my waist to my lower back, I run a hand along my abdomen, trying to soothe the pain.

"Boss, you ok?" Duncan asks.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, hun," Alice pipes in. " You look like you are going to be sick or pass out."

"I am fine," I stress. " It's just cramps. I've had them before and I'll have them again. Now the wine list-"

"Boss!" Yells Kate comes out of the kitchen in a trot. " Do you still want to do the- whoa! You look like shit!"

"Thanks, Kate. Just what every girl want to hear."

"Sorry, but you do." She turns to Duncan and Alice, "What'd you two do to her?"

"Nothing!" They exclaim.

"She has cramps and insists she's fine even though she looks awful." Alice's explains.

Kate turns to me, "You want to go home? I can hold down the fort."

"I can't. It's a Friday night, I can't leave you guys here while I'm at home."

"Ok, but how much help are you going to be of you are in pain all night. Have you taken anything?"

I nod. "Forty minutes ago. They haven't touched it."

"Well then I am pulling Soue Chef rank and sending you home." Kate's hand in her hips and a determined look on her face.

"I don't think that's a thing." Duncan mutters.

She ignores him and squints at me. "I will call your father and tell him you aren't talking care of you self."

I squint back.

"You wouldn't."

She reaches into her pocket, pull her phone out and opens to his contact. Her finger hovers over the call button.

"If you don't agree to go home in the next ten seconds I will call him." She says calmly then begins to count down.

I look to Duncan and Alice.

Duncan raises his hand in defense,"I'm not getting in the middle of Kate and one of her missions. I know better."

Alice shrugs. "While I don't agree with her tactics, you need a break. You have been here almost everyday for the past three months."

I glare at them. "Traitors."

"Five, four, three" Kate's finger hovers closer to the screen.

"Fine! I'll go home!" I relent. " What are you, twelve? Threatening to call my dad."

Kate shrugs as she put her phone away.

"It worked though. What's that say about you?"

I roll my eyes as I slide of the stool. "I hate you."

"I know."

I head to my office to get my phone and some paperwork, then to the wall of lockers in the back for the rest of my stuff.

I explain to the kitchen crew that I'm not feeling well and that Kate is sending me home, they all nod in understanding as they have also experienced her mothering, then stop at the bar again on my way out.

"Call me if you need me," I tell the trio. " I can still -"

"We will survive until Monday," Alice assures.

"Monday?"

"We discussed it," Kate nods, and gestures to the pair next to her. "And decided you need a vacation. You make sure this place runs smoothly and that everyone is ok. It's time you took care of yourself."

The thoughtfulness is touching, and she is right, a break would be nice.

"If you're sure."

"Go!" The three practically yell.

"Ok, ok I'm going."

I head towards the door, wave one last time, then open the door.

"Call the guy you told me about!" Kate yells after me. " The one with blue eyes!"

"What guy?" Duncan asks, a protective tone to his voice.

I roll my eyes and head to my car.

**********************************************"

Once in my apartment I go for a hot shower, hot as I can stand. My cramps are a bit better, but not gone, and the heat of the shower helps.

After the shower come the comfy pants, my favorite sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks.

I make my way to the kitchen and make a cup of tea. I place a bean bag in the microwave and turn it on for a few minutes to heat up.

Once it's done, I grab my mug and bean bag, then head to the couch turning off lights as I go.

Once in the living room I grab the remote and place it on the side table next to my mug, before placing the bean bag on my lower belly then tuck my blanket in around me.

I turn the TV on and pull up my comfort show, volume turned down low.

Cool autumn air flows in from the window, cracked open for fresh air, fairy lights line the ceiling of the living room casting a warm glow.

After half an hour my phone vibrates on the side table, my Dad's name across the screen.

I pick it up to answer.

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Hey, kiddo. I wanted to check in, haven't heard from you in a while. Didn't expect you to pick up. Was gonna leave a message because you were working."

"I'm fine. Just busy with work. I wasn't feeling well so Kate sent me home," I explain.

"Are you okay?" His voice full of concern.

"I'm fine. Nothing a good nights sleep won't fix." I assure him. "I'm sorry I haven't called you or come by, but you and the team seemed busy. The last time I saw you all Eliot looked like he when toe to toe with a moose and lost."

"Yeah, we have been rather busy, but that doesn't excuse us not spending time together."

"I know, but it's not a big deal. We both have been busy. It happens. And what you and the team are doing is good work, I don't want to get in the way. The least I can do is feed you when I have the opportunity."

He goes quiet, neither of us speak for a moment.

"Can you come over tomorrow? Just us. So we can catch up?"

I smile. "Of course! What time do you want me there?"

"Ten?"

"Ten is perfect. I-"

I hear a yell in the background, I think is Eliot . Dad yells back that he's on his way.

"I have to go, kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow."

We hang up, I set my phone down again and go back to my show.

I start to dose after a few episodes. My bean bag long since cooled, but the blanket keeps the heat in. Thankfully the cramps have subsided.

A knock on my door breaks through the quiet.

A groan leaves me. I extract myself from my cocoon, keeping my blanket wrapped around me as I trudge to the door.

I look through the peap hole, to find Eliot on the other side.

Confusion floods me as I unlock and open the door.

"Eliot?" I ask him. "What are you doing here this late."

"Nate said you weren't feelin' well." He lift his arm, showing off a fabric bag. "I brought this."

"What is it?"

"Can I come in?"

I nod, stepping out of the way.

He step past me to stand in the entrance awkwardly while I lock the door.

I turn to him. He looks out of place in my cozy apartment. His leather jacket and hoodie over a Henley, work boots and blue jeans.

He in turn looks at me. Reminding me that I'm wearing a blanket as a cape and fuzzy socks.

"Where's your kitchen?" He asks.

"Down on the left." I gesture towards the kitchen.

He nods, goes to take a step but hesitates.

"Should I take my boots off?" He asks.

I look down to his rather dirty boots, then back to his face.

"Would you mind?"

He shakes his head.

"I can take the bag to the kitchen if you'd like."

He hands it to me hesitantly, then bends to unlace his boots.

I head to the kitchen, "Make yourself at home," I call over my shoulder.

I place the bag on the counter, then turn my kettle on for another cup of tea, or hot chocolate. That would be good too.

Foot steps pull me from my thoughts as Eliot comes to the counter and start to pull items from the bag to lay on the counter.

Two tupperware of something, two quart jars of what looked like broth, and a tub of my favorite ice cream.

"Can I borrow your kitchen?" He asks, leaning against the counter next to the items he laid out.

"Depends. What are you making?"

He opens and sets down one of the tupperware to reveal scrambled eggs and small bits of cooked chicken, repeating with the next container to reveal small elbows pasta.

"My mom's chicken noodle soup. Homemade broth is what makes it so good. Fixes any ailment you got."

Oh that sounded good.

"Eliot, as sweet as this is and how good it sounds, I don't think that soup will help me right now."

He shrugs. "Never know till ya try it. How ya feelin' any way?"

I hesitate and look away from him.

He steps closer, his hands rest on my arms, heat radiating through the blanket around my shoulders.

"What is it?" He asks.

"My period. The cramps have been really bad today. Kate made me go home because I looked like I was going pass out. I was fine, but it was nice to relax for a while."

"Have you taken anything for them?"

I nod. " Some meds. And a hot shower and a heated bean bag. It's fine though, you didn't have to come over."

He shakes his head, "I don't mind. Are you cramping now?"

"The meds are wearing off," I check the clock on the stove, "I can take more in half an hour."

"Alright. When's the last time you ate?"

That question makes me pause. Thinking back, I wasn't hungry when I got home, or after my shower, so that ment the last meal would have been lunch with Alice and Kate. Considering it was ten-thirty , it had been about eleven hours. Yikes.

"Lunch time," I mutter.

He sighs and give me a disapproving look.

I roll my eyes, "I know. You can cook if you agree to stay and eat with me and keep me company."

He lets a half smile cross his face. " Deal."

I nod then leave him to fetch my mug for a new cup of tea.

On my return I see he's pulled a medium pot from the cupboard, emptied the two jars into it, the container of eggs and chicken as well, the ice cream no longer on the counter, presumably tucked away safely in the freezer.

"Where'dya keep your herbs?" He asks.

"Left of the stove." I gesture towards the cupboard as I pour hot water into my mug.

He opens the cupboard, reading the hand written labels.

"You dry these yourself?" He turns to me, holding the jar of dill.

I nod.

"The building has a community garden. Some people grow fruits, others grow veggies. I grow the herbs and dry them. The landlord has a chicken coop and those ladies are egg producing machines," I explain with chuckle as I grab my mug and move to the kitchen table, tucking my legs under me.

"We share what we grow, like a family. There's only a six units in the building so it works well. It was nice when Dad was out in LA. And when Sam died. My neighbor's made sure I was ok during that time."

"Nate wasn't there for you?"

"Not as much as I would have hoped. He took it the hardest. He got really angry at the world." I look down to my hands. "I was just starting my restaurant when he got diagnosed. Kate was the only one who knew."

"I'm sorry." He says, looking at me with a sad look. "I met Nate when he was probably at his worst. He was reckless. He never mentioned you before."

I laugh lightly.

"I'm not surprised. He always kept work and family separate as much as he could."

He nods then goes back to cooking.

I watch him cook. His movements smooth and confident, adding herbs and stirring them in, adding the pasta and turning the heat down to simmer.

Watching him slowly gets taken over by pain encircling my hips and lower abdomen.

I lean forward over my lap, squishing my organs to relieve the pain. I must make some kind of noise, because Eliot's feet appear in front of me, then he squats down in front of me.

"You ok, darlin'?"

"I'm fine." I mutter.

"No, you're not. Where are your meds?"

"Bathroom, left middle drawer."

He leaves my view, I hear him rummage through the drawer, then his foot steps back to the kitchen.

He squats back in front of me, opening the jar and pouring out a few pills into his hand.

"How many?"

"Two."

He puts the extras away until two remain in his palm, held out towards me.

I sit up, and take them from him, I wash them down with my tea, now drinking temp.

I set my mug back on the table, Eliot's gaze following my movements, hand on my knees gently rubbing.

"Why are you so calm about this?" I ask. "Most guys are kinda grossed out, or do the bare minimum."

"My mom taught me to take care of people, especially women in pain. Plus I've been workin' with Parker and Sophie for two years, this ain't my first rodeo."

"Parker must be a handful." I joke.

"Yeah she is." He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "You need anything else?"

"Not right now." I push my blanket from my shoulders to stand up. "I think I'll go back to my spot on the couch after a quick bathroom stop."

He nods, taking a step back allowing me room to stand.

I head to the bathroom, sounds come from Eliot moving about my apartment through the door.

Once I'm done I head back out towards the kitchen, but the living room catches my eye, the couch specifically.

My blanket it there, not on the kitchen chair, my mug on the side table, and two bowls sit on the coffee table in front of the couch, steam rising from them. The microwave hums is the kitchen.

I stand in the door way of the kitchen, starring at Eliot, leaning against the counter waiting for the microwave to finish.

He looks up at me.

"Go sit down. I'll bring this over when it's done."

"What is it? My bean bag?"

He nods.

"Found it when I brought you blanket over. Thought I'd warm it for you while you were gone."

The thoughtfulness makes my heart flutter.

"Thank you, Eliot."

"You're welcome. Now go sit." He points towards the living room then turns to the microwave as it beeps.

I give a small salute then head to the couch, tucking my self into my blanket like a nest.

Eliot follows a minute later holding the bean bag.

"Over the blanket or under?" He asks.

"Under." I reach for the bag, move the blanket and settle it across my lap and abdomen.

I tuck the blanket back around me, leaning my head down to the back of the couch.

"Better?" He asks.

I hum an confirmation.

The couch dips next to me, he sits close enough to feel his body heat, but not touching.

He leans forward and pick up a bowl, passing it to me, then picking up the next for himself.

I thank him, then take a spoon full of the soup. It smells amazing, and the taste even more so.

"Eliot, this is amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

I watch him as he eats, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward like he's really to go at a moment notice. Not relaxed at all.

"Eliot," I say to him. "Sit back get comfy."

He looks at me, almost like a dear caught in headlights, then shifts back and settles into his spot.

"Happy?" He grumbles.

"Very. Now," I reach for the TV remote and turn it back on. " What do you like to watch?"

"I don't watch TV much, but when I have the opportunity it's sports."

"Of course it is," I whisper under my breath.

"What was that?" He raises any eyebrow at me.

"Nothing! So sports, I think they are running some old baseball games -"

"Not baseball."

"What's wrong with baseball?"

"It's stupid. Can't score off defense."

I roll my eyes.

"Don't say that around my restaurant, you'd never make it out alive."

"I think I'd be fine."

I shake my head, turning back to the TV to find something we agree on, surprisingly it's old reruns of Magnum PI. At least he's got good taste out side of sports.

Soon enough the bowls a empty, ice cream replaces soup and is consumed. Empty bowls are left on the coffee table to be cleaned later.

During the third episode, I lean over to rest against Eliot's side, his arm moving from the back of the couch to around my shoulders, his thumb rubbing against my shoulder.

I feel myself start to doze off. The dimly lit room, the warmth from Eliot around me, and the comfort of his arm around it the perfect recipe for sleep.

I wake up a little bit as I feel myself being being lifted from the couch. I'm carried for a few seconds, then am gently set onto something soft. A hand cradles my head, guiding it until my head hits my pillow.

The blankets are pulled over me, tucking me in. A head brushes some hair from my face, then leaves. I look to catch the hand, I hold tight.

"I gotta go, darlin'. You need sleep." He whispers.

"Stay." I mumble back, eyes falling closed again.

He doesn't move, still holding my hand, he then squeezes it briefly and lets go.

"A'right, I'll stay."

He rounds the bed and climbs in the other side. I shuffle over to his side, his body heat like a magnet. I cuddle into his side, my head on his chest, arm draped across his stomach.

He's stiff, and his heart beats are rapid.

He soon relaxes, heart slowing, one hand resting on my upper back, the other coming to rest on the back of my head, rubbing my scalp, lulling me to sleep.

***********************************************

Sun through shear curtains shines on my face, pulling me from sleep.

I roll away from the window reaching to the side that was occupied the night before, but my hand lands on cool, empty bedsheets.

I sit up and glance around the room. Not a trace of anything out of place. I listen for movement, but the apartment is silent.

I toss the blankets of and slip out of my room.

The blanket on the couch is neatly folded, there are no mugs on the coffee or side tables.

The kitchen is the same. No tupperware or jars, no pots on the stove. The sink is empty, or in the drainer.

The whole house is baren of any sign Eliot was in my apartment, let alone my bed.

Except for the the pot of coffee on my counter, the light still on.

***********************************************

Taglist: @fictional-hooman @skyeofbees @kimberkingrivers @spencereliotwinchester @padawancat97

#self indulgent #eliot spencer #eliot spencer x reader #christian kane #leverage #eliot spencer fanfic #ford!reader

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bobeni · 2 years ago

Text

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✶ users! › denji, m!reader.

✶ synopsis! › it could no longer be simply considered a coincidence; with how denji always seemed to pop up at the same time, at the same little store, just to see you.

✶ wrdcnt! › 1,586.

✶ cw’s! › fluff, possible ooc here we go, simp denji, trio stuff in the beginning, this is probably unnecessarily long lmao. i used they/them for the reader for one line, btw.

“Aw crap, we’re out of cereal and milk again! I’ma head out to the store to get some more!” Denji shouted as he zipped past two lazy bodies to the front door, snatching his hoodie off the rack with poorly disguised eagerness.

Aki sighed, looking up from the creased daily newspaper. “Again? That’s the third time this month.” His orbs followed Denji’s haste movements to shrug on the clothing.

The blond barely spared him a glance as he tried to fix his bedhead, “Yeah, yeah, I know, right? It’s bogus how Power keeps eating it all.” He feigned understanding just as said girl squawked at the blame now delivered to her shoulders. “What the fuck? I haven’t even touched the cereal since two weeks ago!” She yelled, mouth full of her breakfast, unfortunately it was just amalgamation of bacon and eggs.

“Ya can’t fool me, Powy, I know you sneak around in the middle of night, scarfing that shit down.” The gobsmacked look on blonde’s face was one Denji could remember for centuries.

“You bi一” as she was prepared to scream her indignation, she was stopped in her tracks by Aki’s agitated groan, followed by Denji’s so-called reassurance.

“Don’t worry, though,” the boy flicked the lock open, stepping an inch outside the apartment with every syllable. “I’ll make sure to replenish your stash, so don’t wait up!” Denji grinned at that last part, officially saying his leave to the both of them, the door narrowly missing his behind with how fast he tried to shut it.

With the boy off and out, Aki’s eyes lingered on the door. But they began to narrow in suspicion, prompting him to rise from the coach and walk into the kitchen for further investigation.

However, his investigation ended as soon as it started. The man found not just one, but several boxes of cereal, moderately filled. As well as the milk, as far back in fridge as it was, half full. This made his face scrunch up in confusion as he shut the fridge and leaned against it to turn his attention to Power一who now had a lap full of Meowy, clearly had to have been ruffled by the morning ruckus and sauntered out of their bedroom.

“Power,” Aki started. She nodded in his direction, still stuffing her face. “We’re still good on breakfast一he’s not just ‘going to the store,’ is he?” He wondered aloud, sighing at the thought of Denji pulling some shit.

“Yes, see!” she jabbed a finger in the air, “He’s up to something. Something... I can assume is very stupid.” Then Power just pets a purring Meowy as Aki shakes his head at it all.

Geez, that was close, Denji thought as he strolled down the sidewalk. It was getting real tiring having to think excuses pertaining to various foods they did or didn’t have. Many apologies and more to his family, but he couldn’t let them know the reason why he had those excuses for where he was going一especially not Power, god, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

Oh, what was the reason exactly?

He has a crush.

That’s right, the reason why he began waking up early in the morning and trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place一well, in his own unique way一was because someone is after Denji’s heart. And he’d so let them take it if they pleased.

One day when it was actually his duty to do some shopping, at this little grocery store a few blocks down from his apartment, is where he met you.

He was only there to gather the items on the short list that Aki handed over to him that morning, but when you stepped up next to him while he was eying two freaky looking fish, and the shy offer for assistance flew out of your mouth, he found himself a bit touched.

“But you don’t even work here, though?” was what he said back then, now eying you.

“Do I have to work here in order to help out some clearly indecisive guy?” The little chuckle that you ended your rebuttal with was unfortunately cute enough that it made his heart jump in his chest. When you leaned over to help him pick the better fish, his heart was absolutely drumming at how close you were and how easily his hand could slip into yours.

He didn’t say a single word of complaint when you offered to help him finish up his shopping; he just let his cheeks burn a bright pink while he trailed behind you with two baskets and hearts for eyes.

After that day, every other week or so he’d pop up at the store, yearning to see you, while also juggling his best attempts to make his appearances look normal and coincidental.

It was a flawless plan in his mind. Every day you two seemed to be getting closer and closer; then soon, he couldn’t deny the hope that lingered.

Even if it should’ve been embarrassing一considering how easily he fell for you after only meeting a handful of times. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to give a fuck.

Denji smiled proudly, maybe he could finally get to do all the things couples do with you.

Meanwhile the blond was gushing, it didn't occur to him that had already arrived at the store until he heard that familiar bell’s jingle giving him the signal.

Then he let his eyes wander, searching the store trying to pick you out of the bustling crowd of shoppers. He stumbled upon right when he almost missed you; you were crouched down by a vending machine, mashing away at the buttons.

With a little bit of pep in his step, he made a b-line for you.

“Good mornin’, [name].” Denji jostled the keys in his pocket when he tried to wave. You looked up at the approach and softly smiled at him. “Hi there, Denji. You doing some shopping again?” you made casual conversation as you were inserting money into the slot. Pink dusted his cheeks as he immediately responded with no, in his head. But in real life he stuck with a shy confirmation and told you that he just needed some cereal.

But as you were prepared to say something else, you were interrupted by two bags of chips spilling out of the bottom.

“Holy shit, what did you do?” Denji was cackling at the surprise you exuded.

“I don’t even fucking know,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up from the ground. “But how perfect is this?” the smile on your face was too warm, too soft, he almost ignored the next words that came out of your mouth.

“One for me, and one for you, Denji.”

You held out a bag for him and he stared in disbelief.

“You’re... gonna share with me?” He hesitantly reached for the bag, awaiting your next answer.

Still smiling you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, “I’ll always split stuff with people I like. Obviously.”

Obviously, you said. You also said that he’s one of the people you like. Obviously.

He was so glad it was obvious to you because he clearly missed a chapter or two一but he didn’t care, this was what he was hoping for the entire time. Maybe he’s got it.

“[Name]...” Denji called as you were already munching on your bag of chips. You immediately caught his eye, humming as you wait for the moment the boy was ready to speak.

“I... I just want ya to know that I really, really like you.” The blond laid his heart out on the table. “And I wanna date you and一nd take you out someday...?” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the chatter of civilians the longer you kept quiet. And he was actually so ready to bolt out of the store right about now if this goes down a road he hadn’t hoped for.

But there you go, exceeding his expectations again.

“I know,” is what you said.

Denji’s eyes snapped open at that and you laughed at the shock written all over his face.

“You know? Wha一Whaddya mean you knew?” Because of the shock, Denji’s voice also was getting louder so you took his hand and led him outside to avoid any suspicious eyes. Though you were laughing along the way, Denji was angry pouting as he tried to shush you.

Calming down a bit, you stuttered out apologies before confessing. “I’m sorry, Denji, but it’s not like you tried to hide it or anything一” his mouth fell open. “I coulda sworn I was being subtle!” That was one of his most natural build ups for a confession, like, ever.

“You have the subtlety of a puppy,” you covered your face as you snort. “But that’s okay because it’s one of the things I like about you.” He flushed red underneath your teasing gaze.

“So... ya really do like me then?” Denji didn’t take his eyes off of you this time. This new smile of yours formed cute little crinkles around your eyes and he thinks it’s one of his favorites.

“If I say yes, would you be my boyfriend?” The sly question had Denji’s heart doing flips. He’d love nothing more than to wear the title of your boyfriend and to have you as his.

So he answered with a kiss.

✶ notes! › i actually completed this holy mf shit i did not have hope. i still think it’s literally too long for my original plan but whatever i’m kinda happy with what i came up with.

#✧ ˖ ⠀ sin’s joint . ❜#i. ֺ ۪ 𝅄 ▸ ⠀ the sky just seems so blue . ❜#ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ csm.#ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ denji.#csm x male reader #chainsaw man x male reader #denji x male reader #csm x black!reader #chainsaw man x black!reader #male reader #black male reader #male reader insert #x male reader

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sometimesibewriting · 9 months ago

Text

Frustration

🍆18+ smut fic MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🍆

✨Summary: You and Uryu are searching for something in his family's library but he can't find it. After seeing how upset he is you let him take it out on you.

🍆 Everyone is 18+ in this one shot.

📃Wordcount: 1,479

❌Warnings: Unprotective, rough smex

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55890400

💙I tried to play with Uryu's personality here. I wanted to write him a little rougher here but still have his personality stay close to his canon one. That being said if he seems a little too OOC apologizes. I have so many smut fic ideas for him, but smut takes a while for me to write and edit. So there will be more in the future there just gonna take me a while to get out. （；´д｀）ゞ

"Is this not breaking and entering?" You asked as you turned another corner. "I used to live here remember," Uryu answered sternly. "You don't anymore, besides your dad-"

"What about that man?" His voice icy. "Never mind." Your body tensed, this side of Uryu was weird to you as he was usually calm and collected. He wasn’t one to let his emotions spill out like that. But right now that wasn't the Uryu before you as the both of you walked the halls he used to live in.

He stopped in front of two heavy wooden doors and tried to push them open but they didn't budge. He sucked his teeth, pulled out his sewing kit, and began working on the lock. Uryu said his dad was at work yet you still kept a lookout, it distracted you from what the both of you were doing.

A click was heard a few minutes later he pushed the door, it opening this time. "Pretentious. He put a lock on the door because of last time." He spoke to himself.

"Because of you finding the book." Uryu pushed up his glasses shaking his head yes. He walked in and then down the stairs as you stood there staring in awe. The place was big but something about it having a library with shelves and shelves had you floored. What even were all these books about? Did his father read them, did Uryu read any of them when he was little?

You walked down looking all around you. "This is kind of crazy."

"He's crazy." Uryu spat as he hit the last step you followed him towards the back of the library, "So what are we looking for again?" You asked.

"Documentation." He began pulling out books flipping through them. "Why would he hide it here? Wouldn't he have that stuff in a lock box in his office or room?"

"Ryuken knows that's the first place I would look, also given that he locked the door I would say I'm right on the money." Both of you began to flip through books you taking one side while Uryu took the other, his suggestion to make things go faster.

You didn't know how long you both spent there but you could slowly feel yourself losing your mind as you looked ahead at all the bookcases. Looking down at the watch you could see there was a lot of time left but still. You heard the sound of a book hitting the floor and walked to the source of the sound.

"Shit," Uryu shouted in frustration leaning against one of the bookshelves, the back of his head hitting the self. You walked over gently putting each hand on the side of his face not sure of what to say. That was when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug.

His face went into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his neck he wasn't crying. It wasn't the best idea but Uryu started kissing your neck. You weren't taken back by this action and just let it happen it wasn't like this was your first time with him anyway.

Uryu worked his way up from your neck to your cheek only stopping a few inches from your face, looking at you for approval, you looked back in a way that gave him that approval. He kissed your lips softly, before deaping the kiss and pushing off the bookcase he was leaning pinning you against the opposite shelf. His hands going all over your body. Stopping at your chest to play with it through your clothes.

He moved his knee to separate your legs apart. His lips moved off of yours so you could both get air, you began rubbing your lower half against his knee glad that you wore a skirt today. Without missing a beat you took off your shirt causing him to go back in for another kiss.

This time you ceased your grinding putting your hand inbetween his legs rubbing him nice and slowly. Uryu rutted his crotch against your hand to get friction, you could feel him getting hard under your touch. His lips parted from you once more, "Can you turn around." It was said in more of a now tone than a question. But his harsher tone didn't bother you, it was kind of hot to see this side come from.

You did what he said turning your back towards him, facing the other bookshelf in front of you he pulled down your panties rather quickly. The air hitting your bare crotch. The situation the both of you were in made the sensation almost feel new. Uryu’s hand went to the clasp of the bar undoing it with ease.

He began to rub between your legs, you spread them further apart as a way to tell him you wanted more. Uryu put one finger in moving it in and out. After a while he added a second then a third, he was going nice in slow which was the norm, he enjoyed riling you up. Between the fingers and the situation, you were slowly becoming undone. Without warning he sped up his pace causing you to hold onto the bookshelf.

Uryu leaned over and said into your ear. "Remember what I said, my dad isn't going be back till one in the morning it's mid-afternoon. You can scream all you want, in fact I would like it if you would.." His tone was icy, it sounded as if he was taunting an enemy that was getting on his nerves. He pulled back and then harshly shoved back in all three of his fingers. Causing you to yelp it echoing off the empty library walls.

"Ishida." You whined.

He grabbed your chin with his free hand roughly making you look at him. "Call me by my first name I don't want to hear my last name right now." You shook your head as he pulled his fingers out of you, wondering if that was him punishing you for doing something wrong. Uryu took the bottom of your skirt lifting it over your butt. He then began to roughly rub his clouted crotch against it rough. "Fuck." He said through labored breathing holding onto the same bookcase trying to steady himself.

Uryu pulled away, you didn't dare look at him all you could make out was the sound of him undoing his pants. It didn't take long for you to feel his bare hard-on on your buttocks wet with pre-cum. He rubbed himself against you but slowly sighing in relief.

He leaned over again kissing you softly, "Uryu." You said softly as he kissed your lips. "You always taste good to me." He deepend the kiss slipping into you with no problem. "Uryu...fuck." You managed to get out as he sunk deeper into you. He held you as he stayed leaning over you giving you time to adjust. Uryu then pulled back his hips causing you to gasp, he brought them back forward. The sound of both your bodies connecting.

Once he got a rhythm he sped up, causing you to rock into the shelf. After a few thrusts, his hands came forward rolling your breasts together. His hands then traveled down to play with both your nipples at the same time. Your back arched, the way he always did you made you feel good. But what you were feeling now was way different than the other times you've done it together. It pushed you over the edge and you came the orgasm washing over you.

Uryu pulled out of you but wasn’t finished yet, he turned you around facing him. "Would you let me finish?" He asked breathing heavily. "Of course." You spread your legs once more, he slipped in again. He held your leg against his hip as he began trusting again this time harsher with no regard for your being.

Your arms found their way to his shoulders holding on for dear life. His trust pushes you into the bookshelf, knocking off some of the books. He pulled out almost far enough to be out of you and then slammed back in. That was when he released into you. He held you both your panting slowing down. Uryu's face softened as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay you were just frustrated."

"Still I shouldn't have taken it out on you...like that." His voice full of regret. You took a piece of misplaced hair and put it behind his ear. "I didn't mind but I do think it shouldn't be a regular thing, let's clean up and talk about this later. Okay?" You placed a kiss on his lips as he shook his head in agreement.

#bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #bleach reader insert #bleach x reader #ishida x reader #uryuu ishida #uryuu x reader #uryu ishida #uryu x reader #Bleach reader insert #x reader #anime x reader #smut #x reader smut #sometimesibewriting uryu

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gorbalsvampire · 3 months ago

Text

𝖃𝕴𝕴𝕴 𝕿𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕱𝖊𝖚𝖉𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖆

𝔄𝔠𝔱 ℑℑ, 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔳 𝔢𝔱 𝔳𝔦

Our story arrives at the traditional two-part end-of-season finale-type wham episode. It wasn't planned this way, but it turned out I'd overplanned slightly and there was a knot of "I know what you need to know but I can't tell you what to ask for" we needed to pick our way past to resolve things and we were all too sleepy, so we split this session right down the middle and it was the correct decision to make. Oh lord, was it ever the correct decision to make.

This is gonna run long. Put a brew on. Make one for me while you're in there - Earl Grey, oat milk, no sugar. Big mug. No, the big mug - there you go. Perfect.

We begin in the monastery of St. Lawrence, on Petrin Hill, where Brother Marsillius is tending to the wounded knight and also sipping from his dressings because the Lord helps those who help themselves. Said knight has regained consciousness, and introduces himself as Christof, a second son on his way to join the muster of the Sword Brethren for crusade into pagan Livonia.

Alas, he was waylaid in the woods outside Prague: some demon, with great paws and a scaled hide and baleful red eyes, set upon him and gouged him without mercy. Marsillius recognised this as a vodnik - a water creature that comes in many forms and does not usually attack travellers without provocation. Christof confessed he might have swung first, but - he is here to fight the enemies of the Lord, is he not?

Christof thanked him for his ministrations and asked if, perhaps, now that he could walk again, there was some small duty he could do? Even if not the sword, some work to which he might put his idle hands?

Marsillius also saw an opportunity, or perhaps experienced a craving. Seeking permission from his sire, he produced a potion of sorts - a muddle of herbs and vitae that would, he swore, aid noble Christof in his recovery. In return, said Garinol, Christof was to visit the Cathedral of St. Vitus and transcribe the inscription from a reliquary that Garinol could not bear to handle.

Marsillius and Christof experienced a very godly and heterosexual moment. That's what the notes say.

We needed a brief moment of OOC time here, to re-establish exactly why everyone was going to Vysehrad. It helps to keep everyone aware of all the threads and stakes going into a resolution, and also to refresh the memory of decisions made weeks ago in real time.

To summarise: Marsillius' premonition suggested he should go to the mountain and Alzbeta was going too, to pray with him. Theodericus was worried about his friends, and Libussa, and Shaagra. Mariam needed to prove there was nothing evil in the ghetto, and to confirm her Compulsion-induced belief that All This Shit Was Connected, and also her cat was up that mountain somewhere.

As Mariam and Marsillius had an awkward conversation - she can't read him at all, but no doctrine on either of their parts says they can't be friends. This was the first time, I think, that she'd admitted these people were her friends. She wanted to make right what she'd done to Katya, or caused to be done - nobody deserves to live forever as a tongueless, silent possession. Alzbeta arrived, and then Theodericus, and gosh, when he walks up with his travelling cloak and his chainmail, his long sword and his short sword and his eating knife with their lion's head pommels, suddenly it's possible to take him seriously. The age of chivalry is almost upon us, and the stories are already starting to be told; Mariam was genuinely awed by the sight of this actual knight.

The coterie made their way along the south road, by the banks of the Vitava, sneaking out of the city without lights to avoid the Prince hearing of their departure. A mist was rising off the river, and the going was hard. I should add, at this point, that it's a long and tricky enough walk to Vyserhad, on a short summer night, that nobody had a chance to feed before they left - so Alzbeta was sharply hungry at 4, and nobody was below 2.

Along the road they passed a decrepit watermill, and the two Cainites leading the way - Mariam with Eyes of the Beast, Alzbeta with Heightened Senses - pulled up sharp. Something was watching. Something in the rafters with eyes as red as either of theirs. Mariam stared it down, sheer heft and silent fury incarnate, and when she showed a Messy Critical, the watcher's will broke first; something tumbled, and fell into the stream, and was gone into the river proper in a flash. Some vast and terrible fish. Something Marsillius also recognised; the vodnik is said to take many forms, among them a pawed and scaled fiend, an old man with a ragged beard and a green felt hat, and a pike of unusual size.

The lights of Vyserhad were visible, ahead and above - so many lights. Torches and candles lining the crenellations, the battlements carved from the living mountain. A path, winding to and fro up and up. A gatehouse, and atop it a grotesque, a winged shape with vast owlish eyes, seven feet tall and not even standing upright, and - it was moving. It knew they were coming.

In the end, it was Theodericus that stepped up: they were guests and, as such, must introduce themselves. Such courtesy (and dots in Etiquette, dump skill my ass) did not go unrewarded. Szarka, warlord of the Fiends, descended with a powerful leap and greeted the visitors; trifold jaws and a foot-long tongue choked out a welcome. Mariam's lack of respect for the Prince, and Alzbeta's talk of visions, were the deciders; Szarka took them in.

Through the winding streets of Vyserhad, the Citadel; dense and shuttered, flickering candles and restless dreams all around. To the square before the immense Gothic basilica, the Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, the most nodular and extravagant architecture in the city: as though the stone itself wished for a more outlandish shape.

In the square before it, a dead tree hung with climbing orange flowers. At the foot of the tree, bare earth, and on that earth a throne, and on that earth, barefoot and languid, Libussa. Theodericus took a knee and Alzbeta dropped a curtsey before Mariam and Marsillius could even ask who this was.

She was attended by guards - orange surcoats and splinted leather, or the wide hats and staves of the wandering Chods - and by a second Fiend. This Depolt, tall and rangy, arms hanging a foot longer than is normal and four more twitching within his robes, bade them welcome in a voice semi-consistently resembling that of David Warner, and extended to them the hospitality of Clan Tzimisce.

Nervous, Marsillius chose to Sense the Unseen, and lord, did he ever sense it! The comforting light-without-light, warmth-without-warmth of the Basilica ahead, and all around, all around, beneath and below, the mountain - dark, watchful, aware, seeing him and them through every flame. Our poor boy bare shat himself, had he but been living, and tried to sneak into the Basilica to be with his God.

Libussa's head snapped round, and a voice not quite her own asked what he was about. He spoke to her of visions; of a calling from God that brought him to this mountain, and his need to pray. Alzbeta spoke of experiences much the same. And Libussa asked them if she was the royal nun the rumours spoke of (she is not; that honour belongs to Sister Agnes), and if he had seen what she had seen; been seen by what saw her.

Here follows a break between sessions. We wrapped up by establishing everyone's immediate Desires for next time. Alzbeta was discovering things about herself and God, and she wanted to know more of the Tzimisce and their ways. Marsillius was afraid, mortally afraid, and wanted to get onto consecrated ground where he was safe. Mariam was disgruntled; none of these people save for Szarka spoke plainly, and she wanted to speak to Szarka, protector to protector. Theodericus was concerned: although the Tzimisce didn't seem as monstrous and horrible as he'd been warned, Libussa still seemed ill-treated, and he wanted to ensure her well being. She was, after all, a queen. And everyone wanted more meat crimes; it was felt that I could be going harder. I still find Koldunic Sorcery more interesting than Vicissitude, but let it not be said that ol' Relleytrots doesn't take feedback...

To ease the pressure and create some better scenes, oh some absolute scenes, we (I) divided the coterie. Depolt sensed the Hunger radiating off Alzbeta, and invited her and Theodericus to dine with him; what kind of host would he be if he did not?

Libussa rose from her throne and expressed, to the air at large, that she was so tired, may she rest now? thus confirming to Marsillius that she was not in control of her own form. He recalled that she often slept on sacred ground, and asked if they could see inside the Basilica. Alas; no. Ground sacred to the White Christ is not for Tzimisce to walk upon. But Marsillius was free to try, and the Tzimisce looked... expectant. Anticipatory, even.

This left Mariam alone with Szarka, whose form imploded on itself, buckling and collapsing into a body more human, a little shorter than Mariam, patagia wings indistinguishable from sleeves, that furry mass behind her shoulders merely a fine stole, ignore that her dress is the flushed red of a blush and that her tongue is still a foot long.

Marsillius first, inside the Gothic magnificence of the Basilica, seeing and feeling Libussa's steps become lighter and more hesitant with every stair they climbed. He ended up carrying her to the altar, laying her down before Peter and Paul and Christ, and asking her, in hesitant tones: who is doing this to her?

And Libussa answered, clearer than she'd ever been before: magna mater, blood of my blood, queen of my world, the goddess Shaagra, the Dragon of Prague. She who gave Libussa the gift of prophecy; she who claimed two older sisters and two eldest sons. She whose blood was the Premsyl blood, and the secret of Libussa's four hundred years of life. And Libussa was - is - so old. So tired. May she not rest? Is there not more toil?

Marsillius, tormented - for this is how he preys, and this is the Lord's work that he does, to feed upon the dying and ease their passage from the world - asked: can she be stopped? If she is waking, can Shaagra be stopped?

Libussa does not know why you would want that. Libussa must sleep, now.

Smash cut. Mariam and Szarka, outside. The realisation that I've fucked myself with Szarka and Shaagra and, in everyone's consciousness, Sorcha. I should have used Valasca, but I got so hooked on the murder valley...

Mariam and Szarka had their heart to heart. It was a beautiful conversation: long silences and long thought, speaking true and from the heart. Mariam wanted to know if there was evil in the Josefov, or threat to it and to her people; to those she called friends; to the people of Prague. Szarka took her time to answer carefully, for hers is the Road of the Beast - she does not dissemble.

Evil in the Josefov? Not of her doing or her family's. Threat to the Josefov? Not by her will; no grievance there. Threat to the city? To others? Who can say? When the Dragon wakes, she will be hungry, but her hunger will be sated first in Vysehrad.

If it comes to blows, these two will be enemies, but they were able, here and now, to talk as kindred spirits. Mariam expressed her concern that Prince Brandl thought the threat to Prague was coming from her clan and people, and Szarka explained that he has always feared and mistrusted Zvi and the Jews; that if he spilled their blood it would not be on the hands of the Tzimisce.

There followed a discussion of who owns the city. Szarka, maiden of Valasca's revolt, warlord to Libussa the first princess of Prague, saw the city as theirs - that is to say, the Tzimisce's. Mariam, a farmer's daughter, saw a continuity: those lands she grew up tilling would never be hers again, they are her father's, and will be his son's, and their son's. What was is passed. What was built by you is not yours forever.

Both of them acknowledged they sounded like their sires. Perhaps there's something there.

For now, their conversation was over, and Mariam went inside the Basilica.

Meanwhile, by the Devil's Column on the north face of the mountain, Depolt and Alzbeta shared stories - Depolt told the tale of how the Devil was cheated and threw down this pillar on the mountainside in rage, and Alzbeta explained how her mother, in madness and fear, had pushed her into the fire to make her form less desirable to men. There was some sympathy there; perhaps she was merely mad.

Depolt explained that he could take those scars - if she wished it - but he understood if she did not wish it, if the body was where the memory was written. There followed a discussion of Disciplines, of moulding the mind and body, and a demonstration of the particularly visceral Feral Weapons to which Depolt had access. These two also have a spark between them - a tendency toward philosophy.

But then the men in splinted leather brought out a family from their home; a woman and her adult sons. A test for both visitors; Alzbeta, the Consensualist, and Theodericus, the Ventrue. Both took their lumps; Alzbeta two Stains, for doing what she did even with a prayer for the prey and letting Theodericus do the same, and Theodericus two Willpower hits, for the weight of his Bane descending. He confided, as they walked back to the square, that he found biting people like that - just like that - rather cruel, and rather crass, and most untidy. Alzbeta, shaking, could not discuss it, and fearing she would have another vision, Theodericus bore her with haste to the Basilica.

Here was Marsillius, and here was Libussa, so very tired. Would he do what he felt bound to do? But here was Mariam, walking in alarmed, saying he and Alzbeta had been right. There was something waking in the mountain, and it was dangerous, but was it something they did not want? Would they let whatever came come, and deal with the aftermath? Would fighting only make things worse?

Marsillius wondered aloud if they should warn the Prince, evacuate the city, at least warn him to quit the city - but if he did, said Mariam, he would come back and find it in others' hands and besiege it, and that would be worse. Prince Brandl was bound to do something stupid, and to blame his rivals, and the visionaries - Alzbeta and Marsillius - were complicit in that, to a degree.

What if they simply removed Prince Brandl? Would they be better off, asked Mariam?

Marsillius looked down at Libussa, maddened and weary, ancient and possessed, and asked in answer: "do you think this is better?"

Stirring in her sleep, Libussa seemed to recognise that Mariam was Jewish - they'd mentioned the rabbi in their conversation - and murmured something about that poor old man, about the Prophet of Kupala, about what she'd seen that night in May-time. That got Mariam worked up, and she strode out, intent on asking the Tzimisce which of you is Kupala's prophet -

Instead, she found Theodericus and the worrying Alzbeta, and as they hastened back inside to confer, Alzbeta dropped her bombshell: "the Prophet of Kupala is my sire."

She described him as resembling Brother Marsillius in passing - older, more haggard, less well kept - and as Marsillius spoke of his desire to save Libussa somehow, to take her from this place or grant her rest with the Kiss, Alzbeta broke down fully. She had already fed here. She had not been able to quiet that scratching dry Hunger in her throat. She had fed upon the unwilling, and - was she damned? was she evil?

That question, in this place, and the concurrent loss of Humanity? That changed things. Libussa rose, and intoned her prophecy in a voice they had not heard before:

Faith defiled shall lead you to me. Innocent blood shall lead me to you.

And within the foundations of the Basilica, within the bowels of that sacred place, they all heard it - crack.

Exit coterie, pursued by a fear. Mariam racing to warn the Jews. Alzbeta and Marsillius, clinging to each others' hands in fear of God and something worse. Theodericus, with Libussa in her arms, convinced at last that she needed to be saved - and, as the players remarked as the tension bled, they'd need her.

Here ends Act II - She Only Speaks In Exposition

Join us next week for Act III - We Gotta Kill The Prince Yesterday

#vtda #vampire the dark ages #vampire the masquerade #vtm #session report #chronicle: xiii tales from feudal bohemia #malkavian #cappadocian #nosferatu #ventrue #tzimisce #long post #seriously long post is long

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 1 year ago

Text

Maniac | König x M!Reader | Part I

Note: I had a dream about this after a talk with an AI and just had to write it down. I managed to survive my first exam so take this as a treat, I split it into two parts because it’s 9k Yes, instead of studying for my next exams I wrote this. Also, I can’t fucking write fight scenes what the hell like people get thrown around in this story like they weigh nothing, I’m sorry lmao. Also, this is not corrected and I feel like it’s all over the place but oh well. I suck at code names. Translation of the few words in different languages are at the bottom.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Knives, Mentions of Homophobia, Unrealistic depiction of KorTac, the Military in general and uhh hand to hand combat?, Injuries, Angst, Slight NSFW, Slight OOC, Reader got a blood kink oopsie, König as well?? Unrealistic portrayal of lots of things

Summary: König’s relationship with KorTac’s local psychopath is something he himself doesn’t really understand. But when an incident happens and a picture of the two is circling around the army base they’re currently staying at, they finally address what is going on between them...

Word Count: 4,39k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part II

Listen...

He’s a soldier. He dealt with some shit. Trauma and other stuff, you name it. But this actually helps him, at least usually. He’s observant and quickly sees through people’s intentions because he’s always watching.

But there’s just this one guy. This one man in KorTac who throws him off his game. Sergeant Y/N L/N.

When König first met him, Horangi pointed him out with an “Uh oh, he is here. I’m gonna go on the toilet real quick-” and poof, he left him alone in the cafeteria, completely flabbergasted.

The man Horangi had meant was standing before Conor, holding a strange combat knife as if he was about to attack the Irishman.

König had never seen him before but the KorTac logo on his black shirt implied that he was one of them.

“Come on, Conny, it’s been so long”, the soldier goaded while smiling.

To König that expression had been unsettling.

But it wasn’t just that, it was his whole appearance. The all-black attire is in contrast with the landscape of pale scars on the man’s arms and his face and the dark circles under his e/c eyes. And the posture seemed casual and relaxed but König’s fighter instinct told otherwise.

If the Austrian came across him in an abandoned alley, he would be on high alert.

Even during that moment, witnessing whatever the hell was going on between him and Conor, König’s body had tensed. And the other people in the cafeteria seemed to share his discomfort based on the murmurs going around and all the eyes on the two of them.

Additionally, König knew that Declan had a past reputation for physical altercations, and based on the growing vein on his forehead, it was likely that a fight would break out if no one stopped the KorTac operator.

He didn’t understand what the guy tried to achieve. Was he provoking Conor on purpose? To fight in the middle of the mess hall??

The look in the man’s eyes and the sharp blade in his hand weren’t implying some friendly sparring though...

Thankfully, Stiletto who had been watching with Calisto walked up to them before anything could happen. The badass she was, she grabbed the soldier by the biceps without any hesitation, diverting his focus.

“Atom, Majka will be on your ass again if you cause another disturbance so soon after your return”, she warned him, her voice sharp.

The man looked at her hand on his arm, then at her eyes. She didn’t let go.

For a second, König expected Atom to lash out but to his relief, he just held up both of his hands in defeat. He even smiled apologetically.

“You’re right, we can’t have that. Sorry, sorry. My bad, Conor.”

The Irishman showed him the middle finger.

“Please eat shit and die, Y/N.”

“Awe, come on man. Don’t be so hard on me, I just missed our little fights. It was always so entertaining, even though you lost all the time!”

“You can spar in the gym during PT, not here. Put that damn knife away, putain” Calisto interceded before Conor could explode.

Y/N huffed and Salvatrice let go of his arm. He was about to sheathe his knife when his eyes landed on König and they made eye contact.

Something sparked in the e/c eyes and uh oh was all the Austrian could think before the h/c haired man walked over to him, his combat knife still in his hand, smiling widely.

“Who do we have here... Are you new? I’ve never seen you before!” Atom exclaimed, a glint of something in his eyes that König couldn’t quite name.

The fact that the operator stopped barely a few inches away from him made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Those eyes bore into him and although the man was a head and a half smaller than him, König felt somewhat intimidated.

“Why are you wearing a shirt on your head?”

“I’m-” he began, taking a step back to gain some distance but Y/N followed him until a hand suddenly blocked him off. Horangi had returned.

“He’s König, our new addition to Strazar-1. Atom, can you just let us eat dinner? We’re starving.”

“I’m Sergeant Y/N L/N, but you can call me Atom. König means king in German right?”

Y/N completely ignored the Korean, still holding eye contact with the tall Austrian. He just nodded.

At this point, there were many eyes on him and he still was a little jittery because they arrived at the base only a few days ago and the local soldiers stared whenever they saw his height and his mask. It made his social anxiety flare up.

“I’m really fucking hungry, man”, Horangi said again, this time stepping in front of König who backed up, thankful to gain some distance.

“Then go eat. I want to talk to our friendly giant here.”

Atom’s tone was almost aggressive now. He twirled the knife in his hand, a small smile on his lips as he stared down at Horangi. It didn’t reach his eyes though, they were cold. Fuck off, his expression said.

“I’m actually hungry too”, König says, not wanting to continue this very uncomfortable conversation with this weird guy. Der hat eine an der Waffel, dem geh ich besser aus dem Weg he thought.

“Oh, we can eat together then!”

Y/N was about to turn around and walk to grab a tray when they heard their team leader shout: “Atom, get your ass in my office now!”

The sergeant swiveled around, saluting Majka who appeared out of nowhere at the mess hall entrance with crossed arms in front of his chest.

“Jebote, put that fucking knife away and follow me.”

Majka turned to leave and the soldier clicked his tongue in annoyance but he did as ordered and followed him without dilly-dallying.

König could hear the RS team leader growl You really need to stop swinging that around like it’s your dick when they both left the cafeteria and walked down the hallway.

Horangi turned to him, taking his sunglasses off and massaging his forehead.

“I should’ve known. You’re too tall for your own good, man. He’ll be after you.”

König stared down at him with a frown, not that his friend could see.

“What do you mean??”

Stiletto and Calisto joined them, the two women looking at him with a resemblance of pity.

“That mec is crazy, König.”

The Italian woman nodded. “It was so peaceful when he was away”, she sighed.

Horangi added: “Yeah. I hope the higher-ups put his ass on another secret mission soon, I don’t want to watch my back 24/7 again.”

König stared at them slowly understanding that Atom seemed to have a pretty bad reputation. But was that really deserved?

Calisto patted his arm. “Make sure to carry a tactical knife with you wherever you go.” Her tone was dead serious.

He looked at her and then at the other two. They nodded.

“Are you saying he’ll try to hurt me?”, he asked, his expression a mix of surprise and worry.

He wasn’t quite sure whether he should believe them. After all, Y/N was in KorTac just like them. They wouldn’t just let a crazy guy work in a PMC right?

“He won’t kill you”, Stiletto said, turning around to go grab a tray to eat, “but if you don’t watch yourself he might poke you a bit with his Atom Splitter.”

He tilted his head confused.

“His knife”, Horangi helpfully provided, as they followed Stiletto’s lead, each grabbing a tray and some cutlery to get some food.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” he asked. They loved to play pranks on him.

“You’ll see, big boy.”

And oh, he really did.

At first, it was unnerving. Getting jumped whenever he wasn’t looking. He blinked once and before him suddenly stood a grinning Atom, his curved combat knife in hand, ready to strike.

After the first time getting caught without a weapon and being slammed to the ground, blade held against his throat - Atom’s face with that unsettling grin barely a few inches away from him - he followed Calisto’s advice and brought a knife with him wherever he went.

Not that he used it to injure the other operator.

Atom hadn’t really hurt him either in all the fights they had, at least not with the knife. They threw some punches and did some tackling and throws but they never drew blood. This was one of the reasons why König eventually got used to the fighting, even if they always ended with the sharp metal against his throat and he was sore for days after it.

In the beginning, he was anxious that the guy would switch up and one day just drag the blade across his jugular but he never did. Not once did he slice König’s skin, not even by accident.

Atom’s control over his knife was something he had never seen before.

His fighting skills were on another level and although the Austrian considered himself an expert in hand-to-hand combat, he knew that he could learn a lot from the sergeant and their fights. When he realized this, his opinion about the attacks turned from unsettling fights into sparring.

Atom actually called it training and König began to agree.

Even though the h/c haired man attacked him with true killing intent every time. But maybe that was what actually helped him.

It kept him on his toes, his senses sharp.

And yeah it was a little weird that Y/N targeted him at all times of the day - he had literally attacked him in his sleep once on a mission - and that he always had a wide-eyed grin on his lips when they fought but hey, it drastically improved König’s skills and instincts.

And after some time he began to even enjoy their little dances. Severely actually. Especially after he won for the first time.

That moment when their positions had reversed - König’s blade to Atom’s throat for once, his knee digging into his chest to keep him on the ground - he felt an adrenaline rush he never experienced before and it left him feeling what he could only call giddy.

It was 5am, most of the base was still fairly quiet and Y/N had surprised him in the gym room right when König wanted to go and change his clothes for a morning session.

The sergeant didn’t say anything, just swung his knife and König reacted in the nick of time, having felt something was off. He grabbed his combat knife and they exchanged blows and when Atom extended his arm a bit too far for once, the Austrian took the chance and grabbed him, twisting his body to throw him over his shoulder.

In an instant, he was on top of him, holding a dazed Y/N down with one hand, pressing the blade against his Adam’s apple with the other.

“You got me”, Atom grunted, panting slightly from the exertion of their exchange, his pupils blown wide and once again that familiar grin on his lips. And König returned it under his mask.

“Fuck yeah, I got you”, he said still catching his breath, emphasising a bit of pressure on the blade, not enough to cut the sergeant’s skin but enough for him to feel it.

“That’s 22 to one. Still got a lot to learn, big boy.”

König rolled his eyes and sheathed his knife. He held his hand out for Atom to take and to his surprise, the h/c haired man actually did. He stood up with his help but without letting himself be pulled.

“Well, you better be prepared.”

Y/N snorted, something flitted across his face. His smile widened even more.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

He picked up his Atom Splitter where he had dropped it and then turned to walk out of the room, whistling a tune. And so he was off to god knows where, like always.

The Austrian watched him disappear through the doorway and a breathy laugh escaped him. He shook his head somehow amused. How the hell did I reach this point?

It was so strange to feel enjoyment after another of their exhausting fights. But he truly did enjoy it. The sweet taste of victory.

For a moment he let their sparring replay in his head. He was unsure whether it was just luck or if he actually overpowered Atom. His thoughts returned to the man lying under him, grinning, the e/c of his eyes almost impossible to see with his blown pupils.

Something stirred in his chest.

He breathed out loudly and then went to go shower, trying to get that image out of his head.

A few months pass and one day when König has just returned after an operation in Al Mazrah, he’s on his way to the barracks after showering when he meets Horangi, Zeus, and Conor, the latter clearly agitated.

“I hope he takes a fuckin dirt nap on his next op!”

“Relax, Declan, it looked like he was actually trying to help this time”, Zeus said, handing the Irishman a cool pack. The redhead put it on his nose which looked swollen.

“Help?! The fecker can’t even-” Horangi interrupted Conor’s tirade with a “König, hey! You’re back!”

He greeted them with a wave. “What happened?”, he asked motioning at Declan, pressing the cool pack against his face.

“That nut job Atom-” he begins but Horangi interrupts him once more:

“The marines are causing some trouble. Apparently, we’re overstaying our welcome, there’s a lot of tension, and Majka and Ridgeback are discussing things with the higher-ups for us to move to another base. Atom... isn’t really helping with the tension...”

“The cunt pulled his knife on one of their new captains!”

“He probably missed you”, Zeus jokingly adds, addressing the fact that the KorTac operator with his madman reputation hasn’t targeted anyone else but König since they started sparring together.

The Austrian snorts, the thought would’ve never crossed his mind.

But a few hours later after he parted ways with the three, the door to the room he shares with the other male KorTac operators gets thrown open with a loud bang and lo and behold; Y/N stands in the doorframe, in his hand his trusty Atom Splitter.

His heartbeat immediately picks up in anticipation.

The sergeant looks somewhat different. The dark circles under his eyes appear to be even darker than usual and he even has some stubble as if he hasn’t shaved in a few days.

Atom’s expression is unreadable until his eyes find König, sitting on his bunkbed at the far end of the room.

“There you are!” he says joyfully and rushes over, reaching him with just a few strides.

He stops, looming over König who’s still sitting on the bed. Their legs touch, he’s standing so close. König puts the book in his hands away, trying to appear casual and he looks up to him.

“Atom.”

“König.”

For a minute they just stare into each other’s eyes. The silence feels awkward, something is simmering in the air and König’s grip on his switchblade under his pillow turns sweaty. His chest flutters, a nervousness he knows only too well. He can feel heat radiate from where their legs touch.

Y/N’s look is different than usual. He seems to consider something.

“You...”, he begins, the sergeant’s eyes trailing to his backpack on the floor that he hasn’t unpacked yet, “had fun on the mission?”

König blinks, the sudden question throwing him off.

He was expecting a knife aiming at his chest, not a small talk question. They never do small talk. He can’t even remember if Atom ever asked him a question after they first met that day in the cafeteria.

They talk smack. But they don’t talk about their personal life or time or their favorite color. König only knows Atom’s age because Zeus told him he’s older by two years.

“I- uh... well, not really”, he says after the initial surprise wears off. Al Mazrah was just sweat, dirt, and not enough sleep.

Y/N nodded slowly, humming in acknowledgment.

“It wasn’t fun here either”, he says light-heartedly while looking towards the door and casually twirling his knife in his hand but something in his posture tells König that Atom is not feeling relaxed at all. Rather he seems tense.

“Why’s that?”, he asks with an almost soft voice. He looks up at him.

The man remains quiet. König remembers Horangi’s words about the marines and although he’s curious, he doesn’t want to prod, and based on the sudden halt of Atom’s knife twirling, they won’t talk in the next few minutes anyways.

“Doesn’t matter”, Y/N starts, his signature grin forming on his lips, “You know why I’m here.”

He steps away from him, bowing mockingly. König rolls his eyes, seeing this as his cue to stand up. He pulls his knife from under the pillow, activates the blade, and stands tall, now towering over Atom.

“Since when do you announce your intentions?”, he asks, slight amusement can be heard in his voice.

“Just today, since I missed you”, Y/N replies and the Austrian can’t even be surprised that Zeus was actually right or question the flutter in his chest because in the next second Atom Splitter is aimed at his chest and he blocks the knife in the nick of time.

Their dance begins. But something’s different this time. The h/c haired man isn’t showing any killing intent at all while he attacks. It throws him off his game a bit.

Additionally, König quickly realizes that the barracks aren’t a good place for him to fight, the space between the bunkbeds isn’t that big and his size makes it hard for him to move his body effectively.

He retreats towards the door, luring Atom towards the front of the room where there’s more space. Y/N follows him eagerly, taking the chance to stab at him with a knowing look on his face.

The Austrian isn’t sure if it’s his own exhaustion after the op or if Y/N got some Dragon Ball power-up during their time apart but he understands that, unlike their last fights, Atom is not taking him seriously, instead he’s teasing him. And somehow it annoys him.

The sergeant throws a glove from Hutch’s bed at him and he ducks, when a sock follows, blocking his eyes for a second. He receives a kick to his thigh as a reward.

“No fighting dirty!” he protests, knowing full well that Y/N is just trying to agitate him like he often does.

“Tell that to all the hostiles out there!” Atom responds, grinning, dodging König’s knife effortlessly. The giant snorts.

“They wouldn’t throw a goddamn sock at me!”

He blocks the Atom Splitter, a few inches away from his throat.

“Based on the smell, it could be considered a biological weapon, so yeah, they would”, the sergeant responds, laughing, blocking the other’s fist.

König rolls his eyes, cursing when he gets kicked again at the same place. Y/N dives low and picks up Hutch’s sock again attempting to throw it once more, grinning.

Oh no, you don’t!

König seizes his knife arm and he flips Atom onto the ground in one swift motion, holding his arms down with his legs on each side of his torso, pressing his knife against the sergeant’s throat.

“Got you”, he pants, knowing that Y/N probably let it happen. But it doesn’t matter. His knife reached his collar first. In their usual terms, it’s his win.

The h/c haired man lifts his hips in a fake attempt at throwing him off while grinning widely, the knife digging into his skin, almost drawing blood. "Come on König, we just started..."

“You’re crazy”, the Austrian says, shaking his head, smiling weakly under his mask, “have you ever considered therapy?”

The h/c haired man laughs an amused look on his face. “Fighting is my therapy.”

“You could use a punching bag then.”

Atom shakes his head and replies: “Why should I? I’m having so much fun when sparring with you. I can let go of all my pent-up stress.”

König can see that he means it, there’s a glow in the e/c eyes. He looks rejuvenated. So ein komischer Kerl.

“Why not let off some steam elsewhere?”, he begins, a thought forming in his head when he realizes that they haven’t competed against each other in anything besides sparring.

Y/N stares at him with a surprised expression but he quickly smiles, intrigued.

“Oh? What do you suggest?”, he asks, lifting his head to lean closer, his voice suddenly deeper.

König retracts his knife and stands up, deactivating the switchblade.

“How about- and hear me out - an obstacle course? Winner gets to boast about it to the others and loser will take his guard shifts for the next two weeks? Sound good?”

Atom wrinkles his nose, clearly not interested. He sits up, propping up his arm on his knee, twirling his knife. He clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“I’m good thanks.”

König holds out his hand and he grabs it, standing up swiftly. Instead of letting go, the Austrian keeps holding on, staring down at Y/N.

“Are you scared? What - you’re only confident in putting a knife against someone's throat? Makes you feel tough?”, he provokes him, grinning underneath his mask.

He’s feeling daring today after having won that fight and seeing Atom so playful.

The sergeant looks up at him, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re misunderstanding”, he begins, pulling his hand away with force, “I get excited when a knife is against someone’s throat. Try riling up Horangi with these remarks, he cares about stupid contests like that.” He sighs dramatically. “This got boring real quick.”

He dusts off his shirt and König crosses his arms over his chest.

“So you’re calling me a bore?”, he asks acting offended.

“Here I was thinking you’re having the time of your life when fighting me.”

He made a swiping motion over his mask as if wiping away a tear. “Okay then, let’s make this exciting again.”

König activates his switchblade once more, lazily holding it against Y/N’s throat. He tilts his head as if asking: you good now?

Atom just looks up at him, his brows knitted, somewhat annoyed.

“Don’t tease me, König”, he grunts, “You can’t handle the consequences.”

The Austrian ignores his warning and he smirks: “What's the matter, sarge? Getting excited?”

Atom harshly grabs him by the collar, pulling him down, while simultaneously snatching his mask, lifting it against his eyes, covering them with the fabric.

“Wha-”, he begins but gets silenced by the sudden pressure on his lips and the taste of coffee.

It isn’t a kiss, it’s more like Atom is trying to bite him.

König’s subconscious reaction is to shove him away, but Y/N’s grip on his collar is tight.

After a few seconds, the sergeant lets go and retreats and König automatically gasps for air, utterly shocked about Y/N’s action.

"What the hell are you doing-?!”, he asks, staring at the man who just smiles, his e/c eyes dark.

He looks down at König’s knife and then touches his throat, wiping his thumb across it and then he licks it while holding eye contact with him.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, König.”

And then Y/N turns and walks through the open door. He disappears. Just like that, leaving the flabbergasted Austrian alone in the room, breathing heavily.

What the fuck?? Is his only thought. What the absolute fuck?!

Did that really just happen? He stares at his hands, he’s still holding the knife. The blade is slightly red.

He cut him.

König is the first one to actually draw blood.

Oh, mein Gott. He could’ve killed him. Had he actually pushed him, he could’ve-

No matter the absolute loop the kiss is throwing him into, he’s more concerned about Atom’s well-being and without thinking any further he hurries out of the room trying to follow wherever Y/N could’ve gone.

In the hallway, he passes a marine who looks at him strangely for running so fast.

König reaches the end of the corridor where it parts into two ways. He goes left.

In the end, he doesn’t find Y/N and instead meets Stiletto and Roze who stop their conversation immediately when they see him turn around the corner, frantically looking around.

“König? You good?” Roze asks. He shakes his head. “Have you seen Atom?”

Stiletto lifts an eyebrow. “No? Why?”

He uses his mask to wipe the building anxiety sweat from his face. “I injured him, in a- a fight. He’s bleeding.”

The two women look at each other, they’re clearly taken aback by the concern in his voice.

“Maybe he went to the infirmary?”, they suggest and he nods. Yeah, that makes sense. Before they can add anything else, he’s off.

A few minutes later he reaches the infirmary where their medic is currently stationed.

“Vic, did Atom pass by?” he asks when bursting into the room. She’s eating an apple and continues scribbling something in a file, completely unfazed by his dramatic entrance.

“Nope”, she says, popping the p.

“I accidentally cut his throat”, he explains.

She hums in annoyance. “I didn’t ask- you cut his throat?” The woman looks up, lifting an eyebrow at him with a deadpan expression.

“Shallowly- I think. I wanted to know if he came to take care of it.”

She takes off her glasses and kneads the bridge of her nose. “No, he didn’t. You sure it was shallow?”

He nods slowly. “There isn’t much blood on my knife.” He holds it up to her, activating the blade. She looks at him, then the knife, and then back at him, before sighing.

“König, get the fuck out of here.”

“Can you tell me if he-”

“Now!”

She points at the door. He walks out without protesting and softly closes the door behind him.

In the hallway, he just stands there for a minute.

The last ten minutes feel like a fever dream. His mind is blank as he stares at the mental health awareness poster on the opposite wall, the only questions in his mind why did he kiss me? and did I really like it?

Part II

___

Translations (freely mostly)

putain - French: “fuck” in this context meant more like “idiot”

Der hat eine an der Waffel, dem geh ich besser aus dem Weg - German: “He lost his mind, I’d better avoid him”

Jebote - Serbo-Croatian: “For fuck’s sake”

mec - French: “dude, guy”

So ein komischer Kerl - German: “Such a weird guy”

Oh, mein Gott - German: “Oh, my god”

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station-3-drama · 1 year ago

Note

*walking in with an axe in their back*

Hi, got any burgers?

(Ooc: Sorry for the late response, a lot has happened. Nothing too bad, thankfully).

*within the spacious main room, you see a random coworker.

Co-Worker: Aw shit. Here we go again.

*Co-Worker turns to face you, keeping their distance

Co-Worker: Please wait a minute.

[ba-beep]

Co-Worker: we have a Code RYB on our hands. Proceed with caution. Over.

Receiver: Roger that. Over.

[blip]

Co-Worker: ok, sir what would you like?

#station3 stuff

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sideroachblog · 2 months ago

Text

Hey y'all here's that AleRoach WIP I promised!!

~4k words. Dry humping at the end (mostly build up), Alejandro being OOC because this was a bit of a daddy issues fic, Size Difference, Unfinished.

There will be TWs under the cut. They're pretty heavy because this is an offshoot from my fic Outside Looking In, where Roach was rescued after being a POW and experienced *severe* trauma. This WIP doesn't go into detail, but it doesn't mince words and it investigates how Roach's experiences are fucking with his current relationships. Additionally, there are heavy spoilers in here for OLI and it reveals more of Roach's perspective of his relationships with the team, particularly Ghost and Soap.

@youredyingthatsallthereis bc I was asked to tag <3

TWs:

1. References to SA Roach endured while captive

2. Roach still being underweight from torture

3. Referenced Cheating

4. Internalized homophobia

5. My awful attempts at Spanish and writing realistic dialogue for someone who speaks English as a second language. In other words: Alejandro sounds corny as fuck. This man on the damn cob.

TRANSLATIONS

Flaquito = An endearing petname. Flaco means skinny and the suffix -ito makes it smaller/cuter/etc

¡Está bien! = It's alright!

Cuate = Buddy/friend/etc

Mierda = Shit

Cariño = Honey/sweetie

No puedo dejar de pensar en ti. = I can't stop thinking about you.

Tesoro = Treasure

“Awfully thin for a member of the 141. How do you run drills? I dunno why they brought you here; you don’t even have a call sign yet.”

Roach looked up from the table where his nose was buried in gun parts, one of the team's assault rifles completely disassembled for cleaning. Colonel Vargas filled the doorway.

Before he could stand to salute his superior waved a dismissive hand and said, “Don't bother. Keep the energy, heaven knows you need it. At ease, flaquito.”

The nickname was a surprise when Roach expected to be addressed by rank. No clue what it meant, though. Halfway up from his chair he hesitated, then plopped back down with straining thighs and a groan. He quipped, “Maybe I'm just too good to leave behind, Sir.”

It was impossible to relax again, on edge and unfamiliar with the man’s temper, bracing for an inevitable smoking. He sat stiffly, spine straight as a board.

The Colonel double checked the safety on his own rifle before resting it in the corner then meandered across what was one of the safe house's bedrooms, now stripped of furniture save for folding tables and gun cases. The space was designated for weapons storage and maintenance. A lone yellow bulb hung from the plain room’s ceiling and offered sufficient lighting—enough to complete duties, not enough to help locate dropped screws or runaway pens.

“You’re in danger,” Vargas said matter-of-factly.

Roach squirmed. “Aren’t we all?”

“You especially. The stairs up here winded you. You have thin bird wrists and negative muscle mass like a frail old lady. What if we’re raided?”

He frowned and said, “I either prove my gun skills or perish, I guess.”

“That isn’t a price I’d expect your Captain to chance paying. Sacrificing fresh meat who needs more time to train, especially when you could put others in danger, too. I’m well-acquainted with John and well-experienced weighing risk versus reward.” The man pulled up a chair and settled in on Roach’s right. “Point is, I’d never send someone so underweight on an operation like this one, even if they stay cooped up in here. Not a newbie. Not in a million years. For Price to make that call, he knows more than he’s letting on.”

“What are you getting at, Sir?”

“You don’t have the eyes of a new recruit.”

He monitored the Colonel in his peripheral for any threatening behavior and swallowed hard. “Just joined the Special Air Service, Sir. If you think he’s hiding something, I think he’s the bloke to ask.”

Alejandro Vargas sat there like a brick wall: an athletic, imposing man of great importance to the Mexican Special Forces, more so than Captain Price was to the taskforce. Only now, with broken ribs where a bullet slammed his plate carrier, was he confined to the safe house in brief recovery. Roach felt like chump change in comparison to his weight lifting build, about six inches shorter and only half the kilos, stuck doing upkeep rather than assisting in the field. Even at his peak, before everything, before Makarov’s Ultranationalist animals held him captive, Roach wasn’t nearly as strong. He reminded himself that he was still healing, still gaining muscle, still making progress on top of how far he’d already come.

…So far, he’d only managed to gain about ten kilos. Ten more and he’d reach a ‘normal weight,’ again, still so unbearably skinny, still far from the size and strength his job required.

Their power imbalance seeded discomfort in his abdomen. Their differences in strength only amplified what stemmed from the subservience a sergeant owed a colonel. It was too similar to Russian prison, Roach beaten and abused by guards double his size who commanded him around like a mule. He tensed without meaning to, leaning away when Vargas’ thick forearms rested on the table, muscles rolling beneath their skin as the man fiddled with a hand guard from the disassembled gun.

The sight left him conflicted. Vargas struck fear in his heart, but struck it in other ways, too. He was attractive, certainly Roach’s ‘type,’ especially considering his confident, benevolent demeanor and how he cared personally for each of his men (at least from an outsider’s perspective). Tough love, but love nonetheless. However, the timing of Roach’s trauma was tragic—happening before he had the opportunity to explore his true sexuality. His thoughts were a muddled mess.

“I just cleaned that, Sir,” he stated. “You’re smearing finger grease all over it again.”

Vargas grabbed a damp cloth and wiped his hands down before using it to tidy the mess. “We’re not on an op. I’m not even your colonel. No need for the formalities right now, Smith.”

Smith. Garrett Smith. The new name was still foreign to his ear, so accustomed to ‘Gary Sanderson’ that he nearly corrected people on occasion. He went to say ‘yes, Sir,’ then truncated the title, hissing, “Yess-s—”

The slight lisp from Roach’s missing teeth made it all the more embarrassing. His cheeks turned pink.

“I’m dead serious about those eyes. Have you seen yourself? Permanent dark circles, thousand yard stare. Even now, you look passed me rather than at me.”

“Mm. I hadn’t noticed,” he lied, sounding as unbelieving as possible. “Interesting observation.”

Vargas angled his wide body to watch the Sergeant work. “Yes, very.”

Roach shrunk into his shoulders when the Colonel leaned forward, into the small uniform shirt that hung baggy enough to have him dress-coded anyway. He prayed the man didn’t notice.

No such luck.

“Not everyone in the world is out to get you. I don’t know who taught you we are. Price wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.”

He shuddered at the memory of Shepherd and replied, “I’m well aware there’s people on my side, Sir.”

“I’m one of them. No need to act like a scared dog.”

What if Price was wrong again? What if Alejandro were schmoozing him, attempting to—Roach gritted his teeth, trying to allow his respect for the Colonel to overpower his panic. “I know.”

“Then relax; I won’t bite.”

His legs screamed to bolt before something terrible happened, old pain from Ultranationalist hands resurfacing. Cuts, punches, yanked hair. Having his head shoved underwater until the bubbles nearly stopped.

When he was first captured, their medics begrudgingly treated his burn wounds with as little care as possible (and he had no idea why they didn’t leave him to die). They ripped off the dressings as if peeling stubborn wallpaper, debrided his skin without anesthesia, re-mummified his writhing form as agony lingered. The worst came later, towards the end of his imprisonment. It happened once. Fingernails digging into his thighs, forcing his legs open. Wrists bound so tightly with fraying rope they sustained nerve damage. Bodily intrusions he longed to forget. Thankfully, his attacker was not gifted in certain areas; however, the bastard compensated with violent thrusts that tore through Roach anyway, mentally and physically, leaving a cloud of disgust surrounding his body even months later. Worse still, the fact that Roach had dreamed of those same activities, gentler, involving trusted individuals. These fantasies were tainted, of course. Everything about him felt rotten after his assault was said and done.

He knew that wasn’t true. The thoughts surfaced regardless.

With a deep sigh, he did his best to loosen up.

“Good,” Vargas praised when Roach visibly shoved down the tension. He plucked a rifle scope off the table and worked the cleaning cloth up and down its length in long strokes, wrist twisting as he did.

Roach watched momentarily, then gazed up and found the man already looking back. He said, “You don’t need to help, if you’re busy. I’m sure you’ve more important duties to tend.”

“More important…? It’s break time. I’m striking up conversation. You intrigue me.” A gleam in Vargas’ eye betrayed the true extent of his interest: Roach was a mystery to solve. A broken man still piecing himself together in the line of action, ‘freshly recruited,’ although it was clear the Colonel knew better.

Roach offered a weak smile. “There’s not much to know.”

“Ah. I see. Hate small talk?”

“Always have, S-sir.”

Vargas replaced the scope and began polishing the other hand guard. “There’s beauty in the little things, you know. Much to be learned from interactions you wouldn’t think twice over. Puzzles made from smaller pieces are more intricate by design.”

“They take longer to assemble. Not much time to spare in our line of work, is there?”

“I’ll spare my time for you.”

As sure as he was the Colonel meant nothing of it, Roach’s face flushed anyway. Even though the thought of Vargas picking out the truth made him queasy, his eyes opened wide, dry lips parting delicately.

“Oh,” he chuckled nervously, “thanks.”

The corner of Vargas’ mouth raised in amusement. However slight, the expression managed to reach his eyes with sincerity.

“Of course. We kinda… left you here toiling alone. I wasn’t expecting to be stuck here as well. I can only assume you feel swept under the rug, maybe a little useless,” he said, wiggling one hand like a balance. “I know I do. But you’ve been lightening the load on our shoulders when we return from missions, though. So don’t feel bad. We appreciate having maintained weapons and an organized living quarters after. Your work at the base is invaluable.”

The words struck a cord in Roach’s heart, feeling more understood than he had in ages. With the 141, he was merely doing his best. His accomplishments were stepping stones in recovery. He wasn’t capable of anything more until healthy, and even afterwards his achievements would be overshadowed by the unspoken thought that he managed them despite everything.

Roach became inseparable from his suffering.

He nodded. “No problem.”

The Colonel clapped a massive hand on his bony shoulder. “Don’t be so shy. I appreciate your hard work, lugging around heavy gear and checking ammo supplies. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, and I’ll be sure to mention it to Price.”

Again, he nodded, unsure of whether to give thanks once more.

“You’re doing great, Garrett. You deserve recognition.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Roach’s eyes. He blinked them back but ultimately failed, and two tiny droplets escaped down his cheeks in white-hot rivulets.

Vargas was taken aback. His brain caught up to speed as he exclaimed, “¡Ay, está bien, cuate! Don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

Roach let him rub circles into his upper back, resting his eyelids as the movement swayed his body. Vargas cupped Roach’s jaw in a warm, calloused palm, encouraging him to turn without force, fingers long enough to hit his sideburns. It felt great to be appreciated, even better to be touched without being handled like glass. In their efforts to help him feel safe, the 141 did the exact opposite of his captors. Instead of treating him like rubbish—like a fleshlight—he became a priceless heirloom that would shatter under a funny look. Intentions aside, he still felt like an object.

Alejandro touched him like a person.

“What’s wrong?” He repeated.

“You—you’re so nice,” the Sergeant whimpered, laying a hand over Vargas’ own on his face. “I dunno what to make of it.”

“Are your teammates not nice to you?”

“They are! They are. Just… Not like that. They don’t say things like that. I f-feel like a dead weight.”

“You’re not. And I mean it.”

Roach cried harder. Vargas stood and opened for a hug, which he lunged into wholeheartedly, draping himself onto the man’s chest as those strong, angelic arms wrapped around him. Breaths heaved Vargas’ sturdy pectorals and Roach along with them. It felt secure. His thoughts calmed to a trickle for once.

Suddenly, a warm kiss pressed into his temple, short circuiting his brain. He sighed as safety eased through him. Roach had never been kissed for himself. Hannah kissed him selflessly, mistakenly. She loved him; she wanted to kiss him for their sake, not knowing he'd never feel it as intended but unconsciously aware something was wrong as she floundered to fix things. It was through no fault of her own, having a coward of a husband who feigned heterosexuality to avoid family drama, and she eventually stopped trying. It hurt, seeing her sneak around with Mike. Gary ignored it, figuring she deserved someone able to cherish her entirely.

Gary did love her though, and Roach believed he always would no matter his identity. There was a reason he chose her to marry. Playing the part was easy with her kind heart and dark, witty jokes. She’d been his best friend, high school sweetheart, and first kiss—supposedly his last and only, if not for Simon coming along.

Simon.

Simon kissed him greedily when he needed reassurance.

‘Are you still here with me?’ He asked wordlessly when they were alone, boxing Roach against the wall in one final measure of security. He was aware of Hannah, his kisses selfish, self-aware, and sorry. ‘I need to mean something to you. I don’t care what, lieutenant or lover, just care for me.

Be there for me.’

Gary wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He orbited Simon because of their difference in rank, never falling in love because they were battle buddies and he was a married man. However, he couldn’t let his Lieutenant in as a brother-in-arms—not when he dreamt of holding him each night. Of fucking him stupid in the supply closets. No, Gary acted selfishly, too, devouring the only male attention ever thrown his way and giving Simon false hope, accepting kiss after undeserved kiss. Simon was kind while Gary was awful, returning the gentle reassurance of his lips despite never fully opening up, caught in Cupid’s purgatory where he lied to his commanding officer and wife simultaneously. Garrett could be better, if Simon would have him. If he could bear putting his damaged self on display for someone who loved him when he was whole.

A thumb wiped the moisture from Roach’s cheek.

This was different. Vargas put comfort in the gesture. It was Roach’s turn to be reassured, promised he was welcome in their embrace. Vargas didn’t need anything, didn’t want anything more than to learn who Garrett was now, and it was similar to Soap’s appeal—except Vargas was less skittish and unsure of what he himself had to offer, unbiased by the team’s grief-stricken reminiscing or the knowledge of Roach’s assault. Most importantly, despite all this mushy emotional crap, Vargas’ touch remained impersonal. Impermanent. Roach could safely make mistakes because he'd either die recapturing Los Vaqueros’ headquarters or return to the UK after the operation concluded.

“Colonel,” Roach whispered, pulling back to scan his face.

“Please. No one’s here. Call me Alejandro.”

“I couldn’t—”

“Really, do it. You’re not one of my men. We could be friends at the end of all this. You need more of those.”

“I’ll be too far.”

“I’ll make time to call.”

He hesitated. His arms snaked away from Vargas’ neck until his hands fell to the man’s chest, stabilizing himself on the broad ribcage waiting there, further examining the man’s expression for hints of annoyance. He found none.

Roach’s eyebrows furrowed and more happy tears begged to flow freely as he asked, “Do you mean it?”

“Absolutely, I do,” Alejandro replied. His grip slid to Roach’s hips to accommodate how the Sergeant repositioned. “Christ, Garrett, you’re even skinnier than you look. I can’t believe Price would… Never mind.”

He was right. He engulfed Roach. Only now, rather than make Roach feel lesser, freakish, and scared, it had him weak in the knees. Roach shivered and flicked his eyes to Alejandro’s lips, starving to feel them tenderly elsewhere, ashamed to desire such attention from the first man to give him understanding and selfless touch.

A Russian accent floated through his mind, dark with arousal and aggression. Maybe he was ‘just a worthless whore.’

“Please,” Roach asked, knowing exactly what he wanted yet not how to phrase it.

“Please, what?” It was an honest question, not a flirty tease.

Roach wanted more than friendship at the moment. A relationship wasn’t the goal; physical intimacy was. To get fucked out of his mind by someone harmless.

One of his hands drifted to the back of Alejandro’s neck who, thankfully, took the hint and leaned forward until their foreheads clunked.

“Please. I’m Roach. When we’re alone, I mean.”

He tilted his head and asked, “Roach? Why that?” sounding pleasantly confused yet excited at the prospect of an answer.

“It’s my old call sign. Don’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

An answer and a secret, and a clue about Garrett’s past. Alejandro’s face lit up like he’d won a hundred quid. “Okay,” he grinned. Then, the serious tone in Roach’s voice transferred to his. “Okay. Sure. Anything you need.”

“Anything?”

“Anything I’m able to do, I will. I’m a man of my word.”

Alejandro was a stranger he’d known less than a month, but his kindness and sincerity were unending thus far.

Roach chewed his lip and said, “Kiss me again. Kiss me more. You did it right.”

He pulled back, gazing at Roach while one of his hands returned to the Sergeant’s jaw. His smile grew until his cheeks squished his eyes into crescents. “Mierda… How could I say no?”

Turning Roach’s head to the side, Alejandro’s lips reconnected with his temple, then stippled across his cheekbone and down the crooked bridge of his nose. Request granted, the Sergeant closed his eyes in contentment and hummed, reaching up into Alejandro’s hair. Heat rushed to his face and coiled in his belly as the Colonel traced kisses along one of his smile lines, planting a final one at the corner of his mouth before pausing.

“Am I still doing this right, cariño?”

His knees were quaking and his hands gripped Alejandro’s shirt for dear life. Even if he let go, he knew he’d be safe. “Yes,” he said, voice wavering.

“Want me to keep going?”

“God, yes. I’ve never had someone do this before.”

Alejandro frowned. “Not ever?”

“No. I’ve only ever been…” he struggled to think of an appropriate term, “…touched by people who wanted it from me. I’ve never had someone do it because I needed the attention.”

“You have mine now. You caught it the second we met.”

“…Why?” Roach asked.

“None of the files about you line up with who I’m holding in my fucking arms. I’ve met a different man than the recruit I approved on paper—I need to have a chat with Price about that. No puedo dejar de pensar en ti.”

“What does that mean?”

Alejandro grinned and whispered, “You’re peculiar. Mysterious.”

“There’s no mystery,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say, Roach. Even if I don’t figure you out, I'll enjoy learning what I can.”

“You’re too much. Shut up and keep kissing.”

He caught Roach’s chin and guided the Sergeant’s lips into his own, making no attempts to part them or shove his tongue in between, maintaining comfortable pressure that broke briefly between smooches. His exhales blew hot. His stubble tickled when he trailed up Roach’s jaw and planted one below his ear.

Roach shivered and moaned behind his puckered mouth, savoring the way Alejandro curled over his body in response, now looking up so their lips remained connected while the man cradled his head and the small of his back. When Alejandro relented Roach groaned in protest, attempting to pull him back by the collar.

He chuckled. “I was going to ask if you’re still enjoying this. I think I got my answer, th—”

Roach cut him off with an open-mouthed kiss, hoisting himself up on tip-toes instead since Alejandro was immovable and took too long closing the gap of his own accord. It elicited a surprised gasp that Roach swallowed whole, using it as an opportunity to press his tongue against the Colonel’s teeth. Fingers tangled in his hair, offering comfortable encouragement rather than balling into a fist and yanking.

Then, Alejandro moaned.

And the sound rolled as deep and powerful as an ocean current,

And it flowed up the arc of Roach’s spine slow and sweet like molasses,

And Roach couldn’t take it anymore.

“My legs are tired,” he complained, limbs shaking, “and my ass hurts from the chair.”

“My lap is pretty comfortable.”

Just what he wanted to hear. He grinned, winded, huffing desperately through closed teeth, “I dunno if can I just take your word for it.”

“Aw, don’t trust me?”

“What can I say? I’m a skeptic,” Roach laughed nervously. Having little experience, flirting wasn’t his forte. “Can we move to that couch in the sleeping quarters so I can find out for myself?”

Alejandro blessed him with a look of surprise that bloomed into a beaming smile. “Lead the way.”

Roach took his wrist (and was allowed) to drag him. They burst through the door, Alejandro flopping onto the aforementioned futon with creaking springs. Roach straddled him immediately and the Colonel’s hands returned to his hips, untucking the baggy shirt from his loose pants, slipping under its hem. It felt electric. It had him shaking like a dog.

“You alright?”

“Just nerves,” he assured.

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

Unbuttoning his own fly, Roach cursed at the pre-cum already forming a wet patch on his boxers.

“Already excited, cariño?”

“Sorry. Y-you’re very attractive.”

Their half-hard cocks throbbed together.

“You’re one to talk,” Alejandro said and lifted Roach’s shirt, mouth gaping at the exposed fuzzy skin beneath.

The shame of having a body surged in Roach’s mind. “I used to have more definition. I was hotter before…”

Those hot, rough hands roamed further under Roach’s uniform, ghosting over his ribs. Alejandro said, “I want you however you are.”

“I’m doing much better than in September.”

“Good,” He replied and leaned in for another slow kiss.

Roach moaned into it as fingers tweaked his nipples. No matter the pleasure, he put his own hands over Alejandro’s and pulled them off. The man detached at the first hint of resistance.

“Hm? Don’t like your chest played with?”

“No, I do! I just… was curious if you’d stop when I wanted.”

Alejandro’s eyes widened. He was intelligent; he read between the lines before Roach finished writing them.

The Sergeant continued. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

Pulling him in tight, Alejandro buried himself in Roach’s neck and whispered, “Tesoro. If you want me to stop, tell me! It would kill me to know I hurt you.”

“I will,” he smiled, leading the man's focus back to his nipples, who immediately resumed toying with them. “You know, for a bloody colonel, you sure do love to follow my directions.”

“A good one knows when to stop commanding and listen. Competent sergeants know what they need. Besides, it’s still break time. I’m just Alejandro. You’re just Roach.”

Before Roach could reply, Alejandro leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his warm, wet mouth while flicking the other, earning a gasp at the tongue teasing it and wriggling hips searching for friction. Their cocks pressed together as Roach ground his pelvis down, then again, driving the rhythm of their dry humping as fast as he could. Unfortunately, in his affected state, this wasn’t that fast.

He growled in frustration, the pleasure simultaneously too much in his inexperience, yet too little.

“What’s wrong, hm?”

“I want it harder!”

Alejandro tested the waters, applying gentle pressure as he bit Roach’s pectoral.

His reply was somewhere between a whimper and yelp. “Nn!~ Not what I meant!”

The man simply soothed it with his tongue, reaching up to caress Roach’s head.

“The grinding, that’s what I mean.”

With a slow grip on Roach’s waist, giving him time to realize and protest if desired, Alejandro used those massive muscles to rock him back and forth.

#AleRoach #AlejandroRoach #Gary “Roach” Sanderson #nsft #Alejandro Vargas

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