#valorant oneshots

[caramel1mochi]

cOULD yOu write a fic where fem reader and (some agent) stay at valorant hq while others are at the mission and its summer, super hot outside, and when they come back they see reader and (agent) at the pool playing loud music and having fun, and gekko gets jealous of agent😁😁😁😁😁

Heya, thanks for the request! I wasn’t sure how to wrap it up and I felt bad letting him stay jealous so I added a little extra at the end hahaㅤ

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On the Poolside! [ Gekko x Reader ]

Words: 900+

Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎  

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。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

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It was two in the afternoon. The perfect time for a team of agents to return from a mission a few minutes ago.

The sun shined brilliantly amidst the bright blue sky, and there was naught of a cloud that dared stand in its way. Unfortunately, this meant that the rays that engulfed the protocol, Gekko and Neon were uncontested, heating them up like they were pastries in an oven. And to those unfortunate enough to go on a mission during all of this, they suffered the most out of all of them. Which was also Gekko and Neon.

Despite having opted to go to the swimming pool a while ago, swimsuits didn’t really cool them as they marched down the hallway. Thrash in hand, each step heavier than the sound of a jackhammer, the two were ready to flop into the pool like pancakes.

ㅤㅤ

“It should be a crime to send people out to war in the middle of summer, man.”

ㅤㅤ

Gekko complained, promptly earning a nod from Neon.

ㅤㅤ

“Exactly. And to Bind, too? What was Brim thinking?” She huffed. “I just hope the pool’s empty. If one person tries to talk to me on my way there, I swear I'll zap them with my suppressor off!”

ㅤㅤ

Though he aimed to respond to that with something witty, Gekko choked on his laughter once he heard the final sentence.

ㅤㅤ

“Chica, chill. Everyone else left after us; I’m positive it’s empty.”

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, it better be!”

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The halls were quiet and empty of the chaos they’d naturally be riddled with. Mostly because the younglings were out and about, suffering just like the duo were about an hour ago. But this very silence was what made their ears perk up at an awry sound.

Despite the conversation serving as a good enough distraction from the heat, the closer they marched to the pool, the louder the music had gotten. And Gekko just couldn't help but notice it. Especially the genre.

ㅤㅤ

“Yo, do you hear that?”

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“Huh? Oh. Music." She sighed in disinterest. "Yeah, they're probably playing some stuff back there. Looks like we won’t be alone, huh?"

ㅤㅤ

“Guess not.”

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It was borderline impossible for Neon to sound any less irritated, but I digress.

However, Gekko couldn't stop himself from playing detective in his head in regards to the genre, aaannndd... They turned the corner and finally arrived at the pool, being blinded by the strong sunlight just as they stepped outside. But he was able to finally see who was in the pool when their vision cleared. Yeah, it was Iso who picked that song. Of course it bloody was, who else would pick underground rap? Gekko took a moment to observe Iso as he sat on the edge of the pool, laughing away at something neither of them could hear. Seeing him wear something that didn’t conceal his broad figure was very out of place. But his heart dropped once he saw who he was talking to.

It was you.

Despite being submerged in water, he saw you don some kind of colourful swimsuit with a peculiar design he just couldn’t observe. But something else was on his mind. Beyond how much those colours complemented you, of course. Why was Iso with you in the pool? Neither of you hung out much, if he recalled correctly, so... However, his heart dropped when he saw you suddenly grab Iso's wrist and gleefully pull him into the pool with all of your might. He swore that he saw his arms wrap around you for a second underwater, but he was quick to let go just as the two of you resurfaced.

Ugh…

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“Finally. Fresh air. Come on, let’s go.” ㅤㅤ

Gekko didn’t really catch what Neon said. He was too distracted by the sound of you calling Iso’s name in between laughter. He huffed and firmly clutched Thrash in his arms.

ㅤㅤ "You know what? Nevermind.” ㅤㅤ

Thrash immediately grumbled at this.

Neon's eyes widened in surprise once he turned on his heel. However, just as he was about to move back inside, she was quick to grab his shoulder to stop him.ㅤ

ㅤㅤ

"Woah, hey, what’s going on?”

ㅤㅤ

“Nothing.”

ㅤㅤ

Gekko shrugged her hand off, and Neon couldn’t help but tilt her head in confusion.

ㅤㅤ

“Nothing? Why’re you leaving, then?”

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“I’m… uh, I’m not in the mood.”

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“Okay, that’s clearly a lie.”

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“Look, I’m just not in the mood anymore, alright? It’s not that deep.”

ㅤㅤ

He unwittingly glanced at the two of you, getting further aggravated at the contagious joy that kept increasing between you two. Neon obviously followed his gaze, but she looked back at him in disbelief once she caught on.

ㅤㅤ

“Iso and A/N? Is that what this is about?” She crossed her arms. “Gekko, who cares? Just ignore them, or whatever.”

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“Are you for real? I’m not sitting here on the side lines just to watch A/N and Iso live it up.”

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“Hey, you promised Thrash we’d check out the pool when we get back. Are you seriously gonna go back on your word because of some guy who probably sucks at picking date locations compared to you?”

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Neon scolded him as she playfully poked at his chest. And with the encouraging grumble Thrash let out, it was very clear that the little radivore was very much agreeing with her words. She'd know that, wouldn't she?

So… Gekko rolled his eyes with a wide smile he just couldn’t control.

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, fine. I’m staying.”

ㅤㅤ

“About time! Now get a move on, I’m melting out here!”

ㅤㅤ

Neon grabbed Gekko’s wrist and pulled him towards the pool. Due to her strength however, it gave Thrash an escape from his previously firm hold. Thus, Thrash immediately jumped out of his arms and terrorised the pool… much to Gekko’s delight. Even though you were also both inconvenienced at this, not just Iso.

[babyboiboyega]

Gekko Headcanons #1 : The Cookout

Pairing: Mateo De la Fuente/Gekko x Black!Gn!reader Headcanon: Taking Mateo to a family cookout would include... Content: fluff, profanity Word Count: 2.6k Author's Note: its been toooo long since I've written something, and of course my newest hyperfixation is the thing that gets me to write again LMAO gotta love it y'know? I am very new to the world of Valorant and this character, so please...if any of this seems ooc, kindly let me know. I'm still learning about him, I'm still feeling him out, but I just enjoy the character so much already. I also enjoyed writing this, so I hope y'all enjoy! <3 Tag list: @liyaawrites (aka, the person responsible for this obsession!!)

I wanna start off by saying that the second you mention taking Mateo to meet your family, the boy is geeked out of his mind. Maybe it's in passing during a conversation, or maybe you consciously bring up the topic once you feel it's the right time; either way, it’s met with wide, brown eyes that sparkle in excitement, and thick lips that part on an immediate agreement. Not only does an agreement follow, but he also immediately starts to ask what he should bring. What kind of get-together is it? Does he need to know anything beforehand? How does he need to dress, because he’ll be damned if he shows up underdressed when meeting the family of the person he loves. He only stops worrying when you tell him exactly what the function is – a cookout – and what he’s expected to bring – some dish that your mom/grandmother/auntie or other family member is requesting. And once those questions are answered, he goes straight to worrying about making sure it’s up to their standards. You have no idea why, but your family gives you and him the job of bringing the macaroni (and not any store-bought macaroni- they’ll know the difference). When he learns that it has to be homemade and that its a staple in the entire cookout, he instantly looks up recipes while thinking back to the ones his ma or abuela would use, wanting to put his own spin on it while also wanting to make a good first impression. It gets to the point where you find him up late one night, his phone’s screen illuminating his features from where he lays beside you. He’d turn his phone to you sheepishly, apologizing for the bright light and displaying a page called “how not to make macaroni and cheese” or something along those lines with a sheepish smile.

“Think they’ll like this one?” “Teo…baby…it’s 3 am.” “...you’re right, I should look for another one-”

The days leading up to the cookout are spent with him constantly going on about how excited he is to meet your family – specifically the cousins you’re the closest to and have mentioned before. In response, you warn him that your family can be…a bit much, specifically when someone brings their partner around. They have a tendency to ask too many questions, get a little too comfortable joking around, and are just all around loud and obnoxious sometimes…and he’d only reassure you with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow that not only is his family the same, but he’s so used to being around large families as his used to have get togethers all the time. He’s dealt with it before, and it'd be worth it to deal with it again if it meant he got to meet your folks. Despite the sentiments, you still warn him – especially of that aunt who always likes to make smart-ass comments and loves calling others out despite having her own problems in her life, to which he lets you know that he’s dealt with one of those and he’ll make sure that y’all are far away from that aunt at all times. He would offer to keep you dancing all night just so you had an excuse to not talk to that person, which would only lead to a conversation involving line dances. 

Despite Mateo's affinity for the punk/skater aesthetic, I’d like to think that his Hispanic roots have resulted in him having a good sense of rhythm. I also like to think that he listens to a lot of music in his spare time, fostering an appreciation for different genres. With that being said, I think our boy could keep up with the line dances. When you offer to teach him a few just for fun, he’d be excited as hell, his lips curling into a full-blown smile as he’d watch you turn the music on and scroll through the first ‘cookout line dance’ playlist you find. When you find a suitable one and try to teach him, he’d be playful about the entire thing, claiming that he needs you to do it a few times although you know its just so he can see you dance, his eyes lingering heavily on your hips as you do so. And when you finally get him to join you, you realize that he may not have the steps down, but he’s got enough swag and rhythm to keep up and look like he knows what he’s doing, which is enough. 

“One more time, princesa- I promise. I’ll get it this time.” “You’re just looking at my ass, Mateo-” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” (with a shit eating grin on his face)

Now…when it gets to the day of the cookout, you two would be up pretty early, going to get the supplies to make the macaroni before starting on it at home. He’d want to help so badly, but he’d also have no problem getting your input on it – after all, it is your family and you know how they usually like their macaroni. But he’d also insist on doing most of it himself which would result in about a few hours of him moving around the kitchen with a focused look on his face. His focus is only broken by you checking in on him, it instantly changing to a cocky, yet playful, smirk as he would nod to the pan that’s in the oven. 

“How’s it goin, baby?” “Look at that masterpiece and tell me how it’s goin, mi carino. You see that golden brown on the top, you smell that delicious, scrumptious, decadent-” “Aaaalright, that’s enough-”

You know I have to mention the process of picking out outfits. I absolutely believe that Mateo would not only be down for, but would love being one of those couples that wears complimenting outfits. Not matching completely, but maybe having one article of clothing that’s the same color or maybe even wearing the same accessories. You two have too much personality and style to limit yourselves to wearing the exact same thing when going out, so he would love to wear complimenting outfits. He’d always make sure to pick colors that you enjoy wearing despite thinking that you look beautiful in every color. 

“What about green?” “Oh…well…you know I don’t exactly look the best in green, baby.” “I wholeheartedly disagree, but we can look for something else, mi amor. No problem-”

I think that he’d be so invested in making sure y’all look good that he’d kind of forget about the macaroni that's in the oven. You can’t even blame him, because you’d be able to see the excitement radiating off of him as he gets ready, so you’d just gently, but amusedly, remind him. 

“Teo.” “Yeah?” “Your macaroni-” “Mierda- my macaroni-!”

His attention would instantly switch to the macaroni, so much so that he’d still be standing in the kitchen, his eyes on the oven when you walk in fully dressed with Wingman trailing behind you, Mateo’s shirt in his beak as he chirps and trills. You wouldn’t be able to understand him, but you don’t really have to to understand the comedic radivore’s noises. You’d only be able to nod and agree with the little guy as you both watch Mateo hurriedly throw on his shirt before taking out the macaroni. 

Now…lets get to the cookout itself. He’d hear the music and chatter immediately after stepping out of the car and would just look at you with a smile and excited eyes, offering to take the dish with one hand and your hand with the other. You’d be able to see that recognition in his eyes, the myriad of sounds that signify a family fellowship being ever so familiar to him. Homeboy would walk in the door with a wide and inviting smile, greeting people politely while also showing that he can be rather extroverted when he wants to be. Of course, he gets the typical ‘this must be yo lil friend’ from your family members, but he takes it in stride. But while taking it all in stride, he’d also make sure to kiss your cheek, your forehead, hold your hand, wrap an arm around your waist– anything to show that the words ‘lil friend’ are just a title your family members have given him, and that the truth is he’s yours. 

He’d show the macaroni to the family member(s) in charge of the food, watching with baited breath as they take the foil off of the top, their eyes looking at the golden-brown cheese on top before looking up at you two with a smile. 

“Oooh, this looks good, Y/N.” “Actually, Mateo made it. I just helped him when he needed it; it was all him.”

He’d absolutely be geeked when they turn to him with an impressed look, their smile widening as they set it on the table with the rest of the food. And if you thought he had a big head when being told that it looked good, it’s nothing compared to when the first family member comes up and tells him that it tasted good. Chile, you’d never hear the end of it…though you don’t want to. It’d be endearing and sweet that he takes so much pride in making something your family enjoys. And when it comes to him actually eating the food prepared, he would not hold his appreciation back. There’d be a lot of ‘who made this’, followed by just as many ‘dios mio’s as he can dish out. The same goes for the dessert portion, especially the homemade pound cakes from your family members. Yeah, he’d have no problem asking for a to-go box; one for food, and one for dessert. 

Throughout the duration of the cookout, he’d find himself constantly in conversation with someone from your family, whether it be because he had been pulled into a conversation, or whether it was because someone approached him with the intent of asking questions. Either way, Mateo would be game for any question asked, usually answering with an air of confidence, friendliness, and humor that made others love him instantly. When asked questions about you two’s relationship, he’d be quick and incredibly willing to answer, his eyes glancing at you adoringly as he does so with a smile on his face. It’d get to a point where you would have to ‘rescue’ him from more questions, citing that you wanted to dance just to get him away from your family member(s). And he’d happily let you pull him away, however, not before promising the uncles gathered around a table that he’d play spades with them the next round. 

At some point in the night, you’d lose him for a few minutes, coming back to his empty seat after fixing a plate of dessert for both of you, and after scouring the yard, hoping that he hasn’t gotten himself into a less than pleasant conversation, you finally find him. Except he isn’t in a conversation- not with an adult, anyway. No, he’s seated in the yard, not too far at all from the kids table, smiling widely as the kids from your family gather around him. Their hands reach for and gently run over his hair, the dyed shapes and colors instantly catching their attention as they speak over each other, asking him questions.

“Why’d you do that to your hair?” “Did it hurt? Why’d you pick spots?” “My mama says people who dye their hair like that don’t want a job.” “Can I do that to my hair?”

You’d only be able to watch in fondness for a few minutes as he struggles to answer their questions, his facial expression showing exactly how much he enjoyed being the center of attention for the kids. It would get to a point where he’d look up at you with an expression that screamed for help despite the smile still on his face, and you wouldn’t hesitate in rescuing him. You’d never seen Mateo around kids before now, but going off of the vibes and interactions you’d see, it’d be easy to come to the conclusion that he’s pretty okay with kids. Because of his chill demeanor, not only is he seen as ‘cool’ to the youngins, but he’s also easy to interact with. It would certainly help that he’s got a little crew of adorable creatures who are intelligent enough to interact carefully with the kids. There’d be peels of laughter and excited chatter as Wingman does a trick when prompted by Mateo. There’d also be a time where Wingman turns to Mateo, chirping quickly and constantly looking back at the kids…and after a short conversation between the two, he’d probably smile, nodding his head towards the kids with a ‘have fun, be careful’. That’d be the only thing Wingman needs to hear before turning and joining the group of kids in their activities, the laughter being a constant noise as long as the creature is interacting with them. 

When it gets to the end of the night and people start filtering out of the yard, he’d check in with you, asking you if you’re tired or if you still want to hang around with a look of understanding for whatever answer you give. It's only when you smile tiredly and sheepishly at him that he’d nod with a smile, telling you that maybe it's time to go. It wouldn’t be long before you two have a bag with your to-go boxes in them, making your rounds with your family members and saying goodnight. He’d leave Wingman to play with the remaining kids until it’d be time to go, waving him over once you two are ready to leave. (You can’t help but feel like you two have your own little family, and the earlier sight of him interacting with the kids certainly adds fuel to that thought). 

The ride home would be spent going over certain conversations and interactions that had happened during the night, showing just how attentive Mateo had been the entire night. You’d also learn of some of the conversations he’d had when you weren’t around…and he’d instantly wave away your apologies for the nature of those conversations, an easygoing and amused smile on his face as he does so.

“Please tell me she did not say that to you- I’m so sorry, love-” “No need to say sorry. It was pretty funny, so its okay, mi cielito. So…you tried to turn the speed all the way up on the treadmill, yeah?” “Yeah, that’s enough of that-”

To put it simply: Mateo would be ecstatic that he not only got to spend an entire day with you and your family, but that he got to see how you interact with your family. It’s truly nothing like seeing the love of your life in their safe space with people they trust. He could’ve sat and watched you speak to cousins, aunties, uncles, whoever else and would’ve been completely satisfied. He’d go to bed thinking about the glow you had on your face as you spoke to family members you’d missed, and how he’d heard and seen you genuinely laugh with cousins when recounting old stories, and how you and your family connected over food, music, and fellowship...and yeah, he’d have to admit to himself in the middle of the night, while holding you close, that he couldn’t wait to have that with you in the future.

A/N: I hope that was fun to read, it was certainly fun to write! Once again, this is my first time writing for this character that I just found out about like...two weeks ago, y'all...be patient with me while I'm learning. BUT I'm gonna really try to write more this summer because I definitely won't have time to in the fall, so keep an eye out!

[imkillerbae]

Hello I hope you’re having a good day/night!

Not sure if your looking for request or ideas but thought I’d throw this out there in case you are.

Yoru and reader who recently got together get into an argument because he hardly acknowledges her in front of the others. Reader thinks it’s because he is ashamed of her. While in truth Yoru is just anxious about getting teased or causing reader to have a bad reputation or anything like that.

Anyways reader goes on a mission a few hours later, still angry, and gets seriously hurt. Once Yoru finds out, he freaks out. Angst to hurt/comfort

If you don’t like this then that’s fine and I don’t blame you at all XD.

Are you KIDDING ME? I LOVE THIS IDEA. But damn, ya’ll like angst a lil too much it’s concerning. Thankfully I enjoy making them so that makes me worse. We’re all mentally ill here in the imkillerbae blog. And yes, I am looking for requests. Keep requesting!! It keeps me motivated.

Weak (Part 1) (Valorant Yoru x Fem!Reader)

Part 2

You picked your loadout for the mission, gripping the Vandal with so much force you can hear your gloves grinding against the metal, scratching the paint. You huffed and forced the clip inside the gun with a smack from your wrist, strapping it to yourself. Your eyebrows were still furrowed, ears almost releasing steam. Harbor and Viper look at each other, then back at you.

“Is everything alright kid?” Harbor asks with a smile, concerned. You blow your hair away from your face and clutch the gun tightly. “Yeah,” you spat.

Fuck Yoru. Fuck him. I hope he chokes on his own ego.

You thought it was a good thing, to leave for a mission carrying anger with you. You could’ve used it against the mirror agents, maybe shoot Yoru’s double in the head for good measure. But as fate would have it, that wasn’t the case.

A few hours ago, there was a mission briefing on the 3rd floor, in a large room with chairs placed around a long oval table. Large monitors were positioned on every side, as well as mission briefing papers. You were late because you had to attend to some personal needs of yours. Little did you know, the others that came too early were discussing something else.

“What did Brim say about Raze though?” You heard Phoenix ask. You hide behind the doorway and listen, smiling to yourself. You wanted to spook them.

“Well, let’s say that he wasn’t too happy at first. Not because he doesn’t support us, but because he doesn’t think it’s smart to have relationships with fellow agents. But of course, we know how much of a loverboy that old man is.” KJ giggled.

“Really? He’s not into us dating each other? That seems unfair.” Phoenix complains, and you can almost hear him pout. “It’s a big risk. A collapse in a relationship between people has a ripple effect. It’s not as linear as you think.” Sova comments.

“Well what about you and Y/N, Yoru? Does Brim know? At least he has a clue about me and Jett. Haven’t heard any comments though.”

As you heard that, you blushed. You and Yoru only started dating 2 weeks ago. Well, dating in its broadest sense. You and him shared mutual feelings for each other for a long time now, maybe even ever since you got into the protocol.

“Still below me in target practice? Cmon Y/N, I know you can do better,” he would tease, laying his elbow on your head just to further humiliate you with your shortness. You try to punch his side playfully, and he dodges, smirk getting wider.

“Wipe that smirk off of your face. You haven’t seen the last of me yet Yoru.” You rolled your eyes, smiling before turning to the range. “Wipe if off for me then,” he huffs, bending down and smiling to your face. You didn’t know whether you wanted to punch him or kiss him. Maybe a bit of both.

Somehow your banter turned into flirting, and before you knew it, he was confessing his love for you. That was two weeks ago, when you were both assigned to scout an area. You’ve known him for a while now, and you always knew him as curt and upfront. But that day, you saw him as someone who was shy, someone who was scared of his own heart.

“Sumanai. I don’t know why I feel this way, and I don’t wanna hassle you. But I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I love you Y/N. I love you.”

Most importantly, someone who gathered up the courage to be vulnerable enough to hand their heart to someone else.

“We’re not a thing,” Yoru replied coldly to Phoenix, and you heard your heart shatter from the piercing words.

“Huh? Wait I thought you two were dating,” KJ sounded surprised, mainly because you told her everything about you and Yoru. “No? We’re not dating, where did you even get that idea.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “I don’t know? You guys are inseparable, you always look for each other, the nicknames? That kinda gave it away,” Phoenix reasons.

“Nope, nothing’s going on between us. Cmon guys, don’t be crazy.” You decided that you’ve heard enough and came out from behind the wall, smiling with gritted teeth. You didn’t see it, but Yoru tensed immediately as he heard you speak. You give them a smile, taking your seat next to Sova.

“Alright, ready up! Everyone take their seats,” Brimstone enters the room, Viper beside him. Sage was on vacation, you suddenly remember.

“Y/N?” KJ calls, eyeing you. Are you okay? She says with her eyes, and you nod. “Oh man, sorry, I didn’t mean to stir anything here. Was just curious, I swear.” Phoenix held his hands up as he sensed how tense Yoru was. He just made a huge mistake. He didn’t mean for you to hear those lies he made up.

He stood from his seat on the table to sit next to you but he was immediately stopped. “Gekko! Can you sit next to me please? I wanna play with Wingman before I deploy. To calm the jitters ya know?” You smiled at the green haired boy, and he eagerly smiles back. “Sure! Wingman likes you a lot anyways. Save me a seat buddy!” He releases Wingman, and he dashes across the table, saving the seat for Gekko. For a moment, you met eyes with Yoru, and he gave you a glare, while you returned it with a side-eye.

Yoru instead sits across you, but during the entire meeting, you did not look at him. You only hugged Wingman as he slept in your arms, listening to Brimstone and Gekko’s flustered mess of jokes. Yoru in turn just sat there, miserable, watching you flirt with a tennis ball. He wanted to kick Gekko’s head off his shoulders at that moment.

After the meeting, you immediately stood up from your seat (after excusing yourself from Gekko and Wingman of course) and quickly walked to the elevator, trying to avoid Yoru. He catches up with you as you enter it, pressing on the B1st floor button rapidly. As it closes, he slips in a teleportation orb in the elevator. And before you could blink, he was already towering over you.

“Don’t talk to me,” you spat, glaring at him with so much anger you could burn a hole in between his eyes. Your eyes watered as you glared, fists clenched and ready to hit him if he ever took a step closer. His look softens. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

“Y/N, listen—”

“Listen? Seriously?! I listened plenty an hour ago! ‘We’re not a thing,’ then what are we? What am I? Some sort of toy you play with when it’s convenient?”

“No you’re not. Listen, I didn’t want them to know—”

“I know damn well why. I’m not as strong as Skye, or as pretty as Neon. I’m the girl you settled for. I’m not enough to inflate that huge ego of yours.”

“What?” Now he was also getting angry, the blood rising from his neck. “Hang on, what the fuck are you implying? That I’m ashamed of you?” His voice rises, a fist landing above your head with a loud bang. You flinch, but don’t let it show.

“As if that wasn’t obvious already. You barely acknowledge me anytime we’re with the others but morph into someone else when we’re alone. Someone I don’t even think exists anymore.” You held back your tears as best as you can, voice quivering.

“You’re crazy,” Yoru accuses, and you gasp. The nerve of this asshole!

“Crazy? That’s rich coming from someone who confessed one minute and the next, he pretends I don’t exist.”

“When did this become about me? I’m trying to explain—”

“It’s always been about you! You, you, you! You’re selfish, egocentric and fucking heartless! I can’t even understand how you say ‘I love you’ without knowing the meaning of the word.” You snap at him, breathing hard.

He stares at you, eyes dark and clouded. He slowly retracts his arm and backs away from you, standing with closed fists. His blood was boiling in his head, he wanted to yell back. But he loved you too much to say anything hurtful. Why couldn’t you see that? And did you really see him that way?

The elevator chimes, and the door opens. It hangs there for a while until he spoke. “Fine. Think whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.” He says with gritted teeth. He quietly steps out of the elevator, leaving you there, silently weeping.

[ask-riftwalker]

I'll bite since you're flaunting them. How'd you get those scars, big man?

*He's amused by the question* They're from stab wounds and gunshots. Contrary to what you may believe, we don't always rely on Sage or Skye to heal us. We manually patch up injuries that are non-fatal, some of us know how to suture. I admit that I'm not the best at it, so I usually have Skye or Y/N do it for me.

I... owe them a lot. Can't count the number of times they've stuffed my gun wounds with gauze to stop me from bleeding to death. Sage could remove my scars but I don't want her to.

[imkillerbae]

This was Chamber after Yoru and Phoenix started beating each other with a baguette in my recent Chamber fic leelellelel and then the reader is just crying in the corner because her bread was desecrated by the dumbass duelists. said fic can be read here. meme not mine.

tour de pain

[jettjournals]

Breaking the Barrier | NSFW

ISO x READER (VALORANT)

oneshot

In the dimly lit confines of the Valorant base, you and Iso find yourselves alone, the air thick with unspoken desire. There has always been a magnetic pull between you, an attraction that neither of you could fully ignore. Iso's enigmatic presence and quiet confidence have always set your heart racing, and tonight, that magnetic force seems stronger than ever.

As you stand there, caught in the intensity of Iso's gaze, you feel a surge of excitement and nerves coursing through you. You’ve always harbored feelings for Iso, and tonight, you sense that he might feel the same way. The tension is palpable, a silent exchange of longing glances that leaves you breathless.

Suddenly, Iso takes a step forward, his usual stoic expression softening as he looks at you with a mix of desire and hesitation. It's as if he's wrestling with some inner turmoil, unsure of how to proceed. You take a deep breath, deciding that now is the time to take a bold step forward.

Without a word, you close the distance between you, your fingers lightly grazing Iso's arm before trailing up to his shoulder. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. Iso's eyes widen slightly in surprise, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he steps closer, his breath mingling with yours.

Gathering your courage, you lean in and press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. Iso responds eagerly, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating, and you find yourself melting into his embrace, unable to resist the pull of his lips against yours.

As the kiss intensifies, a primal urge rises within you, a need that demands to be satisfied. With trembling hands, you begin to explore Iso's body, tracing the contours of his muscles with a reverence that leaves you dizzy with desire. Iso's touch ignites a fire within you, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt as his lips trail down your neck.

Breaking away from the kiss, you drop to your knees before Iso, your hands working to undo his belt and zipper. Iso watches you with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you free him from his pants. The sight of his arousal sends a thrill of excitement through you, and you take a moment to savor the anticipation before leaning forward.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down his length. Iso lets out a low groan, his hands tangling in your hair as you begin to move. The taste of him is heady, and you find yourself lost in the rhythm of the act, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Iso's responses are intoxicating, his groans and gasps spurring you on as you increase the intensity. His grip tightens in your hair, his hips bucking slightly as he struggles to maintain control. You take him deeper, the sensation of him filling your mouth driving you wild with desire.

As you continue, the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the primal rhythm of your movements building to a crescendo. Iso's breathing becomes more erratic, his muscles tensing as he nears the edge. With one final, deep thrust, he lets out a strangled cry, his release filling your mouth.

You swallow, savoring the taste of him as you look up to meet his gaze. Iso's eyes are dark with desire, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, hungry kiss that leaves you breathless.

As you lay together in the aftermath, tangled in each other's arms, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. In Iso's embrace, you have found a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the world outside. And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his warmth, you know that this is just the beginning of something truly special.

[illubean]

I saw ur celebrity Iso x bakery girl post and im in LOVE

May I req an art student!Iso x reader where Iso is roommates with another guy (either Phoenix, Gekko, or Yoru) and that dude has friends over with reader being one of them and tries to go find the bathroom but instead stumbles upon Iso's art room where he's painting away and doesnt notice reader? :3

And maybe reader leaves their number without him noticing until the guests all leave🤭💜

If You Need a Muse

Characters: Li Zhao "Iso" Yu Type: Fluff, Oneshot, Gn!reader

this request has sparked something within me... how do we feel about CeramicArtist!Iso smirk emoji also I changed the req just a tad bit >.<

Warnings: none

It wasn't often that your dear friend Jamie invited you over to his home. Your little group often spent time at Sunwoo's (who prefers to be called Jett) house or showed up at Ryo's uninvited. He was always too lazy to host or feared disturbing his roommate, but today he wanted for you all to play a console game he just bought.

You sat on the floor in front of Jett, who was on the couch battling against Ryo. You watched the game on the screen as you awaited your turn, as Jamie came from the kitchen with more snacks. Jett was currently losing, yelling and leaning into Ryo in hopes of throwing his game. You laughed before looking at your brown haired friend who sat on the floor next to you.

"We're not bothering your roommate are we?"

"Nah, I don't think he's home right now."

After about another hour of playing the game and eating junk food, you needed to use the bathroom. Setting your controller down you looked over to Jamie, asking for directions to the bathroom.

"It's down the hall, first door to the right."

You nodded, getting up and going on your way to find the toilet. You stopped in front of a closed door, pushing it open to reveal NOT a bathroom. You look around, taking in the room. It was well lit, the walls decorated with paintings in various sizes. In the center of the room was an easel, and a man standing in front of it who's gaze seemed to have shifted from the piece in front of him to you. He was wearing comfortable clothes protected by an apron, a paintbrush in one hand and palette in the other.

"Oh uh- Sorry. You must be Jamie's roommate, I was just looking for the bathroom."

He offers you a small smile before returning to his work.

"No worries, it's one door over."

From where you stood you couldn't really tell what he had been painting, but what you could tell was that the man himself was a piece of art. He had beautiful purple eyes and sharp features that you could almost believe he were a marble statue come to life. After taking him and the room in for a little longer you spoke up once again.

"Your art is very beautiful."

He looks up and smiles at you again before responding.

"Thanks. I'm working on pieces for my portfolio, though I don't think anything I paint could compare to your beauty."

You were left speechless as you felt the tip of your ears burn.

"O-oh. Thank you. I'll be- uh- going now..." You stuttered out, before turning and going back to your original task.

Find and use the bathroom.

After doing your business, you returned back downstairs to find that your friends switched to watching a movie.

"Geez, you took forever in there!" Jett complains.

"Did you take a shit or something?" Ryo asks, scrunching his face up at you.

The other two laugh at his statement before you give a response.

"I don't see how any of that is your business," you huffed. Instead of rejoining your companions in the living room, you make your way into the kitchen. There was a magnetic basket stuck to the side of the fridge with pens, some memo pads and sticky notes in them. You grabbed one of the sticky notes and a pen and begin to write your note. You look around for a place to set it as your eyes land on a coffee machine.

Bingo

The machine must belong to your friend's mysterious and attractive roommate, as you knew your friend didn't really enjoy coffee all that much.

You stuck the note on the bottom of a mug sitting underneath the machine before setting it back in place and finally returning to the living room.

{timeskip}

The next morning, Li made his way towards the kitchen for his daily cup of coffee. He would be headed off to class soon and needed a bit of caffeine to start the day. Jamie had already been up, also about to leave for class. After brewing his coffee and picking up his mug, ne noticed a yellow corner of a sticky note peeking out from the bottom.

Peeling the note off, confused, he brought it up to eye level to read.

"If you ever need a muse (or wanna go out :D) call me~ XXX-XXX-XXXX (Jamie's Bathroom Friend)"

A light blush dusted his face at the note. This had to have been left by his roommates attractive friend yesterday. He was so distracted buy the number written in front of him that he didn't notice Jamie peeking over his shoulder.

"That's why they took so long in the bathroom! Hah, looks like one of my best mates likes you."

The man gave his flat mate a firm pat on the back before going about his day. The light blush on Li's face darkened in embarassment at the realization Jamie had seen what was written. Drinking his coffee, he sat down and put the note in his pocket.

He would have to put the number in his phone later.

[merriepy]

MAGNET

•. Chamber x fem!Reader

tags: soft angst + remote comfort, oneshot

cw: /

summary: During his vacation in France, Chamber decides to visit his lover who he had to leave behind due to his career

a/n: This story was written over the course of two or so years because I was procrastinating

Words: 2,3k

A lone cafe at the end of the road.

The small Jade Plants and Aloe Vera which were carefully placed by her in front of the entrance gave off a cozy feeling; one like home. Maybe that's why he felt so drawn to this place - as if pulled by a magnet. He always returned, even now.

Chamber's work at the Valorant Protocol has always been overshadowed by the distrust of his colleagues. Though he wouldn't say that they excluded him on purpose from certain missions, he knew that some agents avoided sharing their work and findings with him. Not that it bothered the weapon designer - he imagined that it would turn out like this the moment he stepped inside headquarters for the first time. He wasn't particularly upset. The Valorant Protocol was an elite squad, if they weren't the ones to suspect something bloody red behind his perfect reputation then nobody would.

However, that didn't mean that it wasn't exhausting for him. Sure - it was his job. The Valorant Protocol was only a stepping stone for his ultimate goal, and despite trying to be on friendly terms with the other agents, he treated it as such.

He always had this tension in his heart whenever he was on his way to visit his old high school sweetheart. Their past was a difficult one, leaving scars that they never managed to fix until they eventually ripped open everything they used to have - like a carnivore dismantling its prey. Somehow he wished that he could've done something to make it work out, but the damage it had caused was too immense. Eventually, he moved away, leaving her behind to pursue his ultimate goal, not trying to think about what must have been going on in her head at that time. He knew about the agony it would cause her, but he had to ignore the feeling of guilt for his own sake, though it was more than just 'being selfish'.

But he learned not to care.

And yet they would always return to each other - some form of guilty pleasure -before reopening the wounds that caused them to fall apart, with the pain growing bigger and heavier each time they acted on their desires. Deep down he would always year for her touches, for her voice to tell him that everything was okay until their fighting would drag him back to the cold reality. One he destroyed with his ego.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw that the interior still hadn't changed. Everything looked just like the last time he came to visit her. The Aloe Vera plants hanging from the ceiling in self-made clay pots, the dark brown counter with the 90's jukebox right next to it, the abstract monochrome paintings beneath a sign saying "It's Always Coffee Time", even the orange light from the sunset felt as if he was reliving a memory from the past. Slowly, he moved his left hand over one of the wooden tables. It brought him back to his time with Culverin and the French military where he used to visit this place by far the most.

"Vincent," her voice brought back so many emotions within him that he longed for during his absence, " I missed you." The man looked up as he heard the sound of a door closing in the back. Behind a counter stood a woman, her arms resting on the working surface made out of marble as she smiled at the guy in the middle of the room. Before he could reply she made a hand gesture. "We've closed already, no need to rush." He walked over to her and softly kissed her forehead, "I missed you too, (Y/N),"

She returned his kiss with a smile. "Do you want to drink anything?" she asked, turning on the coffee machine standing behind her without even looking. The man carefully sat down on one of the bar stools in front of the woman and just watched her doing her job before answering. "You know me," he whispered, "I'll take the usual." She laughed while playfully patting his head. "You never change, Vincent."

No, he never changed - at least not when spending time with her. Suddenly he was a 20-year-old aspiring PMC marksman again who used to visit his high school sweetheart's cafe on a daily base. He remembered it all so vividly, how they were sitting at the counter together until the middle of the night, how he could talk with her about everything, and how amazing the taste of her drinks was.

"Your order, mister~" she announced as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him before sitting down herself. She yawned, causing Chamber to frown. "Had a stressful day, my love?" He reached his right hand out and carefully placed it on her cheek. "You can tell me everything."

Her gaze wandered aimlessly through the shop, purposefully avoiding his question. She didn't want to start another fight by saying something wrong, so she just kept her mouth shut. "If you don't want to talk about it-" "No, it's ok," she answered rapidly, cutting the man off, "I merely had a lot of customers today. Nothing special."

Obviously, Chamber wasn't satisfied with that answer yet he didn't want to continue asking. He knew what happened in the past. So he just nodded, continuing to drink his coffee while waiting for the woman to start another conversation.

They ended up sitting in silence for at least 10 minutes. The sun had faded already, and most of the room was covered in darkness. Only the dim lights from behind the counter were visible. Chamber had just finished his drink and carefully placed the beautifully decorated cup before him. "Delicious as always, my love~" The woman smiled faintly, her hand tracing the sides of the counter as she still kept avoiding his gaze. "So... you're done?" The man flinched slightly at her peculiar word choice. "I mean, it's your place. If I should leave please-" "No no no!" she immediately yelled and cut him off. "It's not like that. I just, I thought you wanted to leave."

Chamber grinned as he stood up from his chair and walked over to his long-lost girlfriend. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him with his chest pressed against her back. Vincent grabbed a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "So you want to stay close to me, my love? My, I didn't know you missed me that much." She softly placed her hands on his and gave into his embrace. "I never said that I don't want to have you close by." He chuckled before kissing her neck a few times. Shivers ran down the woman's spine as she felt his lips on her skin. "So I can stay for a little longer?" he whispered into her ear once he was satisfied with his work. "I suppose," she answered, "but only if you tell me a little bit about your work."

It had been a while since he had talked with her about the Valorant protocol. She knew a lot, more than she should at the very least. He wasn't hesitant to give out classified information from time to time if she was interested in hearing it. He smiled and pointed to one of the benches to their right. "Let's go then, love."

He took her hand as he guided her over to their place. His grip was protective; firm yet comforting. She followed right behind him. When he sat down he pulled the woman onto his lap. His hands were wrapped around her waist once more as he made himself comfortable on the sofa. She reluctantly adjusted her position. Chamber laughed softly and started stroking her head. "I've missed you so much, my dear." Her expression seemed sad. "Yeah, I know."

She restrained herself from fully pouring her heart out. She knew that there was no place for her in his life. Not with Kingdom back then, and not now with Valorant. And it was selfish to ask. He had told her about so many things. Omega Earth, how the agents of the protocol defended humanity and all the struggles and hardship they went through. And the teleporter to the other side that he could help to finally get working. They needed him more than she did.

A soft touch trailed down the side of her body. It was her most sensitive place, the skin just above her waist. And he knew that, for he had stroked this place so many times when they were younger. Wilder. Free.

"I don't like how lost you are in thoughts, my love," he whispered into her ear with such a demanding tone. "Tell me what's wrong. Please." Chamber's head rested on her shoulder and he pulled her even closer, into a protective hug. It was caring. Loving. And she hated it.

"Vincent, I," she tried to find the right words. And maybe she even tried to drag out the moment. Maybe she was scared. Or maybe not. She couldn't tell as all those emotion clouded her mind. "I just can't anymore. I've missed you so much. And every time when I think you're finally over me and I'm finally over you. You just. Stand in front of my door. And I hate it." One single tear was rolling down her cheek, joining all the others that she had shed over him so many times already. "If I can't be with you... then we should finally draw the line."

His expression was unreadable. Somewhere between sadness and acceptance. She wondered if he saw it coming, that's she wouldn't keep up with their on-and-off-relationship for the rest of their life. "I have other plans," she continued, her voice cracking as she tried to hold back more tears. "I want to settle down, have my café, maybe a family if the circumstances allow it. But you're focused on your career, and that's ok, but you need to be honest with yourself. I need someone who sees me as their first choice. If you can't give me that- then leave me for good." Her hand reached out to him, visibly shaking, and softly trailing over his cheek. She smiled at feeling his skin on her fingers. "I want to go with you. Or want you to stay here. One of it, I don't care. I can start over somewhere else. Please, Vincent. Give me an answer."

Chamber placed his hand on her cheeks and softly stroked away her tears. His gaze carried a silent apology. It was enough of an answer for her.

Her heart was torn apart, and even though she wanted to be mad at him so badly, she knew that he was hurting as well. At least she liked to tell herself that because she couldn't face the faint possibility that he actually didn't care.  Despite wanting to do as she said and tell him get out, she buried her face in his chest and gave into his embrace one final time. As he reciprocated her hug, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

They didn't talk for they were being too pain struck to even mumble a single word. The woman's eyes closed as she listened to her lover's heartbeat.

Soft rays of sunlight were dancing on her skin as she got woken up by movement below her. As the girl tried opening her eyes which reacted badly to the sudden change in contrast. The street outside had yet to become as busy as usual, but she could tell that the people walking by were messengers of the soon to arrive morning rush. "Fuck, it's morning already! I can't open the café like this," she complained as she hastily looked around to find a clock somewhere. "I'll just call in sick and ask someone else to open the shop later today." While she was running around trying to organise everything for her coworkers later, Chamber had been simply watching her without leaving his place. It took a while for her to notice he was still there.

She tried to avoid his gaze knowing that she had to face him one last time until it was farewell. Her nails scratched over the wooden surface of the counter as she tried to hold back her tears. She was frustrated. With herself. With him.

He had approached her from behind in the meantime and trailer his fingers down her curves. "I want you to be happy, love." The sad tone in his voice echoed through the building, weaving together a melody of despair with the sound of her tears dropping down to the ground. "But if my job in the protocol is ever complete, I promise that I will marry you."

The pain ate away at her, and hearing his promise didn't make things easier for her. She wanted to forget but knew deep down that she could never get over him. "You promise?" she asked with her voice being but a mere whisper. He would return. And they could have a future together.

"Of course my darling." He placed one final kiss on her lips to manifest his promise before heading towards the door.

And as you watched him disappear into the sunrise, you trailed your fingers over your lips where he had just touched you.

You knew he would return.

For you.

[braveclementine]

Complete Masterlist

Kinktober -Kinktober 2022 -Kinktober 2023 -Kinktober 2024

Oneshot books -Fandom Oneshots

Wizarding World -Elizabeth Kane Series

TVD/TO/Legacies -The Impossible

Marvel -Avengers Soulmate Colours Book 1 -Avengers Soulmate Colours Book 2 -The Art of the Tattoo -Project 1940s- IN PROGRESS -Pumpkin part 1 part 2 -Pumpkin Shorts -NOT STARTED -Snow -Undercover Sex Slave Part 1 Part 2 -Undercover Family -NOT STARTED -Unspeakable

Twilight -I Believe

Fruits Basket -New Beginnings -COMING SOON -Uncertain Middles -COMING SOON -Everafter Endings -NOT STARTED

Miscellaneous -Escape the Facility -The Crossover -NOT STARTED

[r3linx]

Big men, who you swear you could beat in a fight but in reality it wouldn’t take an ounce of strength from him to completely crumble you to pieces whenever he wants. His big and beefy body being able to crush your bones under a few seconds. Taking action and simply folding you under them whenever he hears your statement of you being way stronger than him. Palms bigger than yours, fingers longer and thicker, comparing yours to his, your fingertips reaching just about past his second knuckles, him holding your wrists together above your head, knees next to you on both side of you as his weight pushed you further and further into the mattress and not being able to get out of his grasp no matter how much you’re tossing around; or scooping you up and throwing you around anytime and everywhere he wants. And don’t even get started on the oh but i’m bigger body type. These men literally does not give a flying fuck about it, he will do it anyways.

Big and soft men, who would never hurt you from their will since causing hurt to you in any form or shape could make him lose his mind. Also protecting you from everything that means a possible danger to you, showing no mercy to anyone who in fact isn’t you. And when it comes to times when you get hurt and the cause is indeed him, he internally eats himself up from the inside about how could he been so thoughtless when he promised to himself all he will give to you is pure love and affection. It takes a few caresses on his cheeks and a couple of kisses and he’s already melted in your arms, only focusing on you and the thought of beating himself up is completely forgotten.

Big, soft and mean men, who could tease you all night, ‘till dawn, because what could you do? Punch him? Yes, you could try but we all know it’s nothing against him. So you just patiently wait there, looking pretty, while they’re mercilessly play games with you. These men can also rail you until you basically and literally see stars, going at a relentless pace without faltering the hold they have on you. Nails bruising your hips, thighs and waist every single time you’re together and by now you just learned to handle it in silence. You did try to warn him about it and they learned from it for brief 5 minutes at max, then lust covered their vision once again and got back to his usual behavior, we could say that he almost snapped his hips against you even more greedily this time. But even then, they don’t do this out of will… most of the times..

And it gets even ‘worse’ when your pretty fingers doesn’t even reach around his girth, struggling there with both of your hands, sitting between his muscled thighs and choking you with every inch you take further into your mouth. Him fucking into your mouth, not giving you any breaks or time to collect yourself, he doesn’t bother to stop himself and by the time, he’s the one who guides your head up and down on him. Tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, ready to spill. Oh how much he loves to see your face contorted like this, your cheeks flushed deep red and lips swollen. It could be almost enough to make him come just from that sight, feeling him twitch in your mouth and in response a muffled moan escaped your throat, sending vibrations through his body, up his spine, making him throw his head back immediately. His palms almost stuck in your hair, gripping and pulling on your well-cared locks like his life depended on it but you just couldn’t feel it from the ache of your jaw, the pain was stronger and by the time he could finish, all your nerves went numb.

So in conclusion, was he stronger than you? Yes. And will you ever admit it? Well, probably no. ♡

genshin: DILUC; kaeya; ZHONGLI; ayato; BAIZHU; WRIOTHESLEY; alhaitham; hsr: JING YUAN; gallagher; dan heng; GEPARD; WELT; caelus; bllk: KUNIGAMI; NAGI; reo; ISAGI; otoya (?); rin (?); sae tokrev: MIKEY; draken; RINDOU; ran; hamna; valorant: SOVA; phoenix; chamber; gekko; ISO; obey me: lucifer; SATAN; BEELZEBUB; SOLOMON; haikyu: DAICHI; KAGEYAMA; kuro; iwaizumi; oikawa; BOKUTO; akaashi (?); suna (?); ATSUMU; ushijima;

AND ALL YOUR FAVS! ♡♡

[acaaciia]

bleach

relationship: Gekko x gen!reader || Mateo x gen!reader

listed tags: fluff, friends to lovers (?), reader being a good nuera/yerno, oneshot

trigger warnings: none

synopsis: Bleaching some hair gets a little heated. 

You and Mateo have known each other since before you knew how to write your own name. You were there when you each first scratched your knees attempting to learn how to ride a skateboard, down to when the first light had occurred.

Needless to say, the two of you have been through the thick of it, and when Mateo asked for you to come over and help him with a new look, well, you couldn’t resist the offer.

It didn’t even take a second after you knocked on the door, for it to fling open, revealing Mateo with a giant grin. Wingman stood to his right, peaking over the side of his leg.  

“Por fin! (1) I knew you’d pull through.” He said, taking one of the bags from your hands and handing it over to his companion.

You grinned in return, “Of course I did, I couldn't let you damage your hair alone.”, You joked as you reached down to pet the little creature, “Now come on, let’s get this over with before your mom kills both of us.”

Stepping into the small home you immediately greet the older woman who was busy cutting up a variety of fruits, “Hola Señora, ¿cómo está hoy?”(2)

“Aye, bien mijita/mijito, ¿cómo está su mamá?” (3) Mateo 's mother looked up from where she stood in the kitchen, “Todavía está tomando ese té que lo mande?”,(4) she whipped her hands on her apron, walking around the small island to greet you with a hug.

You laughed, shaking your head as the two of you parted, “Lo termino, pero eya empenso a tomar ajo y curcuma.” (5) you said, turning to Mateo, making a sour face at the thought of the combination. “She even started putting it in my licuados.” (6)

This sparked up a whole conversation between you and Mateo’s mother, as she went over the multitudes of things your mom should start eating to improve her health. It didn’t last long before Mateo came in to save the day from his mothers ranting, “Perdoname mami,(7) but we got something super important to do.” He insisted, nudging you towards the hallway that led to his room.

The older woman rolled her eyes at her son and waved the two of you off, “Fine, fine, pero dejan la puerta abierta.” (8) She half joked, returning to her previous task.

Mateo could feel his ears heaten up at the implications and groaned out a small ‘aye ama’(9). You chuckled at his embarrassment and shot the woman a thumbs up as you let your friend lead you further into his house.

Entering Mateo’s room, you immediately made yourself at home pushing away the random junk he had laying around to make room for your snacks and bleaching materials. You set up your makeshift salon station, passing a chip or two to the quartet of creatures that watched you with interest, mainly interested in the snacks you had. As you finished setting up, you threw a curious glance to Mateo who was spinning himself around with his desk chair, ‘patiently’ waiting for you to finish.

“You ready for this?” You questioned, slipping on a pair of latex gloves before making your way around the man, a bowl filled with a mixture of bleach and developer in hand. He stopped his spinning, his eyes met yours as he looked at your reflection in the mirror. He grinned and gave you a nod of approval, “Show me whatcha got.”

“Just let me know if it starts to burn,” you warned.

Taking the brush into your hand, you started on the back of his head, trying to angle your strokes perfectly so as to not get any of the bleach onto his skin. This process took a while and continued till you finally reached the front of his head.

You were so close, he thought, your legs straddled his own as you leaned in closer for better precision around his hairline. Mateo could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, his hands twitched as they tensed up to his side. Of course, he was aware of the fact that he had a thing for you, he always did. He never acted on it directly though, but with you so close he- “Quedate quieto.” (10) You practically whispered as you placed one of your gloved hands under his chin, tilting his head up for a better angle.

Mateo’s face burned as you cradled his head, he’s never gotten such an up-close view of you before. He swore he could die a happy man with a view like this. He watched as your eyebrows scrunched and contorted with a look of concentration. The way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you meticulously painted his hair with bleach, he had half a mind to take the brush from you and pull you down for a kiss himself.

“And I think that should be it.” You stated as you finished applying the last of the bleach to Mateo’s hair. It was only then, as you pulled back slightly to inspect your work, did you realize the position you had placed yourself in. Your breath hitched as your eyes met Mateos' own, your hand still hovering gently under his chin.  

You didn’t know what came over you, maybe it was the fact that you could feel the warmth of his body under your skin that made your head feel light. Maybe you simply had breathed in too much of the bleach and now it was messing with your head. Whatever the cause you couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down and captured his partially chapped lips for a kiss.

Mateo was stunned by your action but quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss. His hands grazed over the top of your body gently, dipping between every curve and crevice trying to memorize every detail into the depths of his brain. He shifted you in closer, one of his hands making its way to your thigh to hold you in place, while the other came around to grip your waist.

The two of you lost track of time in the little universe you created where only the two of you existed. Neither of you could tell when Mateo had finally brought you down to sit comfortably in his lap, or when you had lost the bowl of bleach as or when your other hand wrapped around his neck, but the two of you weren’t in the mood to care.

Key:

1. Finally 2. (formal greeting to an older woman) Hello Ma’am, how are you? 3. mijita/mijito: a term of endearment typically from an older person to a younger person, used in a similar context as sweetie. Not to be used in a romantic sense/relationship. "Sweetie, how is your mom?" = "Mijita, how is your mom?" 4. Is she still drinking the tea I sent her? 5. She finished it, but has started to drink ginger and turmeric instead. 6. (a shake/smoothie) 7. Forgive me, mom. /Excuse me, mom./ I’m sorry, mom. 8. But, leave the door open. 9. Mom, please. (a whiney, complained/embarrassed way of saying it) 10. Stay still.

[caramel1mochi]

ㅤDesolate Holiday [ Omen x F! Reader ] [ part 1 ] words: 700 / TW: mental distress, violence / Please refrain from stealing my work.

ㅤAfter discovering his past, Omen was left in an alarmingly hostile state. Him being alone on Christmas, however, meant that all harm should be self-inflicted. This idea quickly vanished upon your appearance.

note: Merry Christmas!! What better way to celebrate than to comfort Omen everything Riot revealed? No, I'm not over it. Anyway, this is a sample of a my first holiday themed one-shot! Full story available on my Kofi for tier two and above.ㅤ

Omen winced once he felt a bullet pierce through his shoulder from behind. And at this, the boss began laughing; he very clearly enjoyed the predicament Omen was in. He growled and pulled the trigger. Then, he turned around, gunning down the few guards that stood behind him before moving on to a different section of the street.

He hid between one of the alleys and pressed his back against the nearby brick wall, allowing it to shield him from the flood of bullets. coming from down the sidewalk.

ㅤㅤ

"Move, move!"

ㅤㅤ

One of the guards cried out, his voice unexplainably distorted. Not just by the mask, but also by the strong winds that enveloped them all. But he was subsequently drowned out by another.

ㅤㅤ

"Surround him!"

ㅤㅤ

"Come on, get rid of him."

ㅤㅤ

The guards surrounded him from every angle. He knew they belonged to the Scions of Hourglass judging by their uniforms. Omen couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he reloaded. It took him a few seconds to properly slide in the fresh rounds into the cylinder before pushing it back into place.

Then, he emerged from his cover, pumping lead into every figure he caught sight of.

ㅤㅤ

"Kill him–!"

ㅤㅤ

Omen shot the guard's neck, allowing him to choke on his own words. His previous wish to release his anger was replaced by a compulsion to kill everything and everyone. Guards, bosses, even innocent people; he couldn't care less. The world didn't have any problem in disfiguring him, in turning him to a shell of who he was, so why should he be merciful?

No. He was owed vengeance.

Omen continued mindlessly shooting everything in his path. And once he ran out of ammo, he threw his gun away in favour of a Phantom lying on one unmoving body. He didn't stop to reload. It would be a waste of time. Moreover, and one of them could escape. Omen struggled to keep a good grip on the weapon, considering just how much blood he was now covered in. But he kept shooting.

He kept shooting, and shooting, and shooting... until he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Omen took out his knife and swung it in the direction of the person, knocking their weapon right out of their hands.

The pure white coat they donned caught his eye.

ㅤㅤ

"You..."

ㅤㅤ

Omen whispered as he observed her. This one was Viper. And just the sight of the scientist sent his mind spiraling. His grip on the handle tightened to a painful degree, but the pang of pain that shot up his arm disappeared into the maelstrom of disorder that was already present.

ㅤㅤ

"This is all your fault!"

ㅤㅤ

He shouted, driving his blade towards her stomach, seconds before ripping it out and slamming her against the wall. Viper instead clutched his forearms, just barely preventing him from stabbing her neck. But in this state, her strength was naught compared to his.

ㅤㅤ

"What do you have to say for yourself?!"

ㅤㅤ

There was a brief pause as she caught her breath. Then, she lifted her chin, allowing him to take in that annoyingly defiant expression of hers.

ㅤㅤ

"I did what I had to do."

ㅤㅤ

To say this response infuriated him would be an understatement. Truthfully, despite acting like it at the time, Omen wasn't satisfied with the talk he had with Viper. And whatever rubbish he spewed about understanding her choice, about how she was only defending herself, they were all were filthy lies. All of it was done in the hopes of moving on; clearly, he didn't succeed.

ㅤㅤ

"You're a monster, Omen. You forced my hand."

ㅤㅤ

Furious, he pushed the knife forward, and Viper winced once the blade's sharp tip cut her cheek.

ㅤㅤ

"You have no right to decide what I am!"

ㅤㅤ

"Your actions prove my point!" Viper furrowed her brow. "Only monsters hurt the people they care about."

ㅤㅤ

Omen growled. He pulled back his arm, and–

ㅤㅤ

"Omen!"

ㅤㅤ

A voice cried out from behind him, and this partially snapped him from his state.

[minty-stars1803]

~Cyphmen on my mind lately~

Thinking long and hard about cyphmen a lot lately.

How omen probably picked up on and bakes Amir his favorite sweets, or cooks him his favorite meals.

How he probably brings him a pot of tea after a long days work (with extra mint, just like he likes it).

Has taken to simply putting sugar on the side instead of doing for him bc He never quite got down how Amir likes it. Sometimes he puts none, other times he loads his cup. (I like to think he prefers it less sweet most of the time)

Omen, who is one of the few with the privilege of seeing Amir’s face in this day and age.

Omen, who makes the effort to savor every moment of seeing Amir’s face like it might be the last.

He makes note of every freckle and mole, every wrinkle and smile line, every scar and indent, every spot left by his vitiligo. (yes I HC that cypher has it just like his VA)

One would think that he could draw cypher by memory.

And he does.

It’s known that omen explores baking, caring for bonsai trees, and knitting amongst other things, as a means of hobby and easing himself.

So what if he draws and paints in his pass time as well.

If he keeps sketchbooks, half the pages are full of Amir, the things that remind him of Amir, things related to him, things he likes.

Omen would keep a whole museum of his lovers face if he could.

It took them so long to let each other in.

To learn to be open to others again, especially in a romantic sense.

After all that has happened in both their pasts, trust and love probably wouldn’t be first on the list of things desired or thought of.

It takes Amir so long to rest assured once he finally lets his guard down around omen.

What if he looses him too, what if it goes sour.

I like to think he tracks and keeps tabs on omen quite a bit more than the other agents.

Omen tries to reassure him constantly that he’s fine. He’s always been fine. And nothing has changed.

But things are different now in the emotional sense, and Amir can’t quite help it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ajsjshhshshahgwgegsv this is my first time writing anything even remotely resembling a fic in so damn long… it’s more a stream of consciousness tbh… I think about cyphmen daily. So I hope yall at least kinda like it…

I plan on picking up writing again, I’ll def be posting more works here. I should also work on making a list of what fandoms and who within them I plan on/will write for.

[imkillerbae]

Tagging: @sadcowboahthe2nd

Part 1 Here

Requests: OPEN

Weak (Part 2, Finale) (Valorant Yoru x Fem!Reader)

Yoru sat on his bed, arms leaning on his knees. He brooded as he sharpened his knife, the friction sending sparks around the dimly lit room. He blasted Japanese rap music on the speakers, trying to keep himself occupied.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He knew how it felt to burst out in anger and say things you don’t mean, so he kept convincing himself that you didn’t really feel that way about him; that you saw him as more than just an asshole. But he couldn’t blame you. He hurt you by lying just to save himself from being teased about you. He knew damn well you were out of his league, and if Phoenix knew, he’d never hear the end of it.

Was lying really worth hurting you? No, and he regrets it deeply.

He sighs. I hope her head is cool once she comes back. I need to explain myself. But his thoughts were stopped by a loud banging outside his room. He scrambles to turn off the music. “What do you want?” He yells back, rolling his eyes.

“Y/N! She’s hurt! She’s—it’s serious! Please you have to—” He hears KJ scream frantically behind the door, and his eyes widened. He springs to his feet, dropping his knife on the floor. Without a second thought, he opens the door and grabs KJ’s shoulders. “Where,” he asked sternly, and KJ winces. “T-they’re taking her to the ICU, she’s in an u-unstable state,” she replies, but he was already running to the infirmary.

Hearing how panicked KJ was, a million nightmares played in his head. Sage wasn’t here, which heightened his anxiety. What if you die? And Sage couldn’t bring you back? What if you suffer so much, you gain amnesia? What if you turn into something like Omen?

He shook his head. He won’t let that happen. He’d tear a hole in the whole dimensional fabric of the universe before he lets that happen.

As he saw the room you were held in, he bangs on the door. “Open the FUCKING DOOR!” He yells, kicking it with so much force, it groaned but stood firm. Phoenix ran and tried to hold him back. “Stop man! You’ll break the door!” He warns, holding his best mate’s arms back. “Kuso, doke!” He thrashes violently, trying to elbow Phoenix’s face. Viper looked back from the window, and she could tell that Yoru won’t relent until he was let in.

She instead opens the door and gets out of the sterile room, glaring at Yoru. Yoru returns the look, pushing Phoenix off him. “What the fuck did you do to her.” Yoru growls, grabbing the doctor by her coat, but she doesn’t squirm. “Nothing that isn’t helpful. You can’t enter the room.” She orders, but his grip doesn’t loosen. Behind them, Phoenix watches closely, making sure Yoru didn’t do anything too rash. A few agents also arrive, and a few gasps were emitted as they saw you through the glass.

Yoru watches you writhe on the bed, your limbs secured on the metal bars. You were screaming, face stained with tears of pain. Several markings on your body pulsed in the color red with every movement you made. His eyes were wide and his mouth hangs open, shocked and scared. He looks back at Viper with fury.

“Tell me what’s going on. NOW.” He demands, and Viper holds on to his wrist, trying to tear him off her. Phoenix intervenes, trying to break the two up but he’s shoved aside by Yoru. “Her body was exposed to Radianite residue for too long when she investigated one of the mission’s points of interest. We didn’t anticipate the reserves still active in the mineshaft.” She explains, dusting herself.

“At the moment, there’s no cure. Not even Sage would be able to help her. Y/N’s not radiant, which makes the situation much worse. This could be fatal.” Hearing this, Yoru’s blood boiled. “No cure? What do you mean no cure?! Why didn’t you discuss this in the risk management?! YOU SENT HER ON A SUICIDE MISSION.” He screams at her face, and Phoenix was almost fed up with Yoru’s behavior. He understood how much he cared about you but this wasn’t helping anyone.

“Man, lay off. Y/N’s not the only one affected here. Harbor and Viper are also fatigued. Doc is trying her best to keep Y/N alive right now,” Phoenix warns, squeezing Yoru’s shoulder with force. “Y/N’s body is fighting the effects right now. All we can do is hope she overcomes it, and that Sage arrives here on time. She may at least try to relieve some of her pain.”  Viper adds, but Yoru did not relent.

“And what if she doesn’t? What then? You send her off into a mission you weren’t prepared for and now you just hope she lives?!” Yoru clenches his fist, but before he could grab Viper again, Phoenix threw him a punch in the face, knocking him down. “I told you man! Lay off! You’re acting crazy!” He rubs his fist on his white jacket, watching Yoru get up on his feet. He’d never seen Yoru this angry. In blind rage, Yoru charges at Phoenix, but before he could, Viper injects him with a sleeping drug on his neck.

The last thing he sees is you, on your hospital bed, sweating and in pain. His heart drops. He wanted to be there, to hold your hand. “Y/N…” he whispers your name, but you do not hear it.

--

The next time he wakes up, he couldn’t move properly. Adjusting his view, he sees a gray wall. He was laying on his side. When he was about to wipe on his eyes, he couldn’t. Huh? Where the hell am I? Pulling at his arms, he realized he was handcuffed. He sprung upward, looking around. It was a small room, only furnished with a rickety bed, a single faucet and what he assumed was another room for a lavatory. On the other side was a door that had a large rectangular window on it.

Am I in a jail cell?

“Hey!” He yells, banging on the door with his shoulders. He tries to kick it down but doesn’t do much damage, still dizzy from the drug. He peers out the window, and sees a familiar mop of brown hair. It was Phoenix on the other side. “Phoenix, open the fucking door!” He orders, slamming his whole weight on the door.

“Can’t man. I know you’re worried about her. So are we. But fucking up Viper’s work won’t help anyone, especially Y/N.” Phoenix reasons quietly, crossing his arms. He feels his best friend’s anger through the door, and he felt guilty for punching him. But it had to be done, unless he wanted Yoru to do something he’d regret for the rest of his life.

“I can’t just wait for her to rot in there! Open the door!” Yoru persisted. His voice was starting to waver. “And what would you do? What would you even do there? Hassle the doc?” Phoenix replies angrily, facing the window.

“Damn it, I’d take her pain and turn it into mine if I could!” He shouts back angrily with a last bang on the door with his back. “Fuck, I… I can’t just wait here while she suffers. I can’t.” He croaks, slowly sitting down against the door. He then remembered how in pain you were. His heart clenched. He cared about you more than he let himself show.

“All I know is that I want to be with her right now. That’s all I ask,” he begged.

Phoenix listens as Yoru sulked there. Fuck, now he wants to open the door. Yoru hears Phoenix leave him, his footsteps fading into obscurity. He sat there, tugging on his binds occasionally. How crazy you got him right now. He thought about your last conversation. Another lie: he did care. He cared about you a lot. He loved you so much.

How he wished that you left with your last conversation being how much he loved you instead of an argument over his mistake.

“Kiritani.” He hears a familiar voice call, and he springs to his feet. His eyes met Viper’s through the window. “Please, let me see her.” He asks breathlessly. Viper stares emptily at him before nodding. “Tell me honestly, how come her situation elicits such a strong reaction from you? Is there anything I should be aware of?” She asks as the door slowly opens.

Yoru gulps, but he smiles faintly. “I’m her boyfriend. It’s my job to worry.” Phoenix’s eyes widened. Viper only nods again. She didn’t remember the last time she worried about someone as hard as he did. She respected it.

As soon as the door was opened for him, he rushed to you. He didn’t know why but you looked gaunt, and it had only been hours. You were sweating but visibly conscious, your eyes glazed open. “Y/N,” he almost yelps, kneeling down cupping your face. The rest of the protocol watched from the window as you stir. “Ryo…?” You croaked, trying to look for him, but you could only see his blurry face. “I’m here Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He grits his teeth in frustration. It pained him to see you so weak.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “We found that having pure radianite around her siphons the effects of the decay. Problem is, it turns the radianite into residue, so it’s circular feedback. Killjoy made a radianite filter in house. It seems to alleviate some of the pain. She just has to endure.” Viper explains bluntly, pulling the gloves off her hands. “Don’t approach the filter. I don’t want another patient. That’s Sage’s job.” She adds before moving to the monitors.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. I do care, I care about you more than I care about anything else. I’m sorry for denying you whenever they asked. I’m not ashamed of you, in fact, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a while.” He confessed, not caring if Viper was there to hear. You look at him sadly. He was disheveled.

“I’m just scared that if they knew that we’re together, they’ll tell you that I’m bad news. They’ll tell you that I’m not a good boyfriend, tell you that I don’t deserve you. I’m not deaf Y/N, I know what they say about me. I’m scared that you’ll change your mind.” He chokes on his words as he held on to you. “I love you and I will never be ashamed to call you mine. So please, please, fight the decay.” He begged, a stray tear rolling down his cheek.

It pained your throat to speak but instead you smile. So that’s all it was huh? You wanted to tell him that no one would say anything bad about him, and if they did, it didn’t matter. You knew him well, and knew that behind that tough exterior was someone who just wants to be accepted. Someone who wants to be loved.

You instead smile, tears rolling down your eyes. I love you too, you thought.

“There’s something happening to her vitals. What are you doing?” Viper suddenly asks as she monitors all the data in the screen. She gives Yoru an intense stare. “I’m not doing anything,” he replies angrily, wiping the tear away. “Her vitals are improving. Strange,” Viper says casually. “It seems that your radiant energy is better at siphoning the decay than radianite itself. How about we test this theory,” she sighs.

The doors open and she lets everyone inside, even those who weren’t radiant. “Y/N, we’re here. Get better soon okay?” Jett smiles, holding her arms. Phoenix stands next to Yoru, rubbing his shoulder. “You better recover soon, your boyfriend is losing his mind over you. I punched him in the face.” He chuckles, and Yoru hits him in the stomach, shooing him away.

“Is that so?” You manage to croak out, chuckling lightly. With that, Viper looks at the monitors again. “I see. It seems like the theory is true. You’re all cancelling the circular feedback loop. Y/N’s vitals are improving rapidly. Can you sit up?” Viper requests, and you try. Yoru helps you, smiling. “It still hurts but not as bad as before.” You could now say full sentences. You look at Yoru and smile widely.

“I love you,” you finally say, and he closes the gap with a kiss, his hands holding your head close, keeping you steady. Your hands weakly reach for his cheeks, caressing his soft skin. The rest watch with wide eyes. “I’ll never deny you again. I promise.” He says breathlessly, embracing you.

“There goes a new couple in the protocol. Any thoughts Brimmy?” Phoenix asks, and Brimstone sighs. “Just don’t let me catch you doing shit outside your rooms. That’s all I ask.” He groans. Viper on the other hand stood there, leaning back on the door, watching everyone. Seeing you both together warmed her cold heart somehow.

[ask-riftwalker]

i cHANGED HIS PFP TO THE SINGULAR PHOTO I HAVE OF HIM SMILING

jett added the flares. hopefully he doesnt notice. no one tell him aight?

much love, jamie

[zeggyzone]

off-air | isekko

iso/gekko (valorant) tags: love confessions, domestic fluff, feelings realization, snuggling & cuddling, might be ooc, cross-posted on ao3

synopsis: while iso is trying to blow off some steam after a stressful day, gekko texts him. fifteen minutes later, he's in his best friend's room on wash day. bonding ensues.

sfw. 5.1k words.

notes: - most of this was written at 3-5 am, so if you see any grammatical errors, *no you didn't.* - iso and gekko have a pre-existing friendship; a close one at that! they have platonically held hands, hugged, all of that while trying to break iso out of his shell :) - sorry if it's out of character - i also wrote this while listening to iso and gekko's canonical spotify playlists, along with the isekko playlist made by lili on spotify! - the name of this fic in my documents is "The Oneshot Where Iso and Gekko Confess Over A Bathtub On A Random Tuesday" hahaha

STOKYO DRIFT, Cemetary Drive I said I’m ready to cash out I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to–

Iso exhales.

Just a round at the Range. It’s that simple. Blow off some steam, Zhao Yu.

It’s that simple. No strings attached. It was just him, his Raging Hunter (which he customized with the help of Raze just a while back– she helped everyone with it at one point, and Iso was on her supposed list of clientele), and a bunch of robot dummies.

Truth be told, Iso didn’t even know why he was here. In recent meetings with Sage, he found himself sitting across from her in her own bed, talking about the nightmares he experiences on the daily. The gunfire, the blood, the flashes of violet.

Especially the gunfire.

Yet here he was, Raging Hunter in his hand, doing the one thing he knows how to do in a last-ditch effort to calm himself down. He pulls back the hammer with his thumb, exhaling as he flicks his arm towards the ‘start’ button, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly–

Bzzt.

What.

Iso tries to ignore the buzzing in his front pocket, gently vibrating against his side. He steadies his aim, but it buzzes again, and he sighs, holstering his Raging Hunter, and pulling out his phone.

SECURE SERVER_VAL.VP // PRIVATE MESSAGE: GEKKO-ISO

GEKKO [15:41 UTC]

yo yo yo can u help me clean wings ?

Iso blinks.

You have to send five back-to-back texts to get that point across?

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Why so sudden ?

GEKKO [15:42 UTC]

yk how he gets and he likes u Hes fussing so fuckin bad rn holy shit

[SYSTEM] Gekko sent an image. [A 0.5x photo. Gekko looks disgruntled at the camera. He’s in a black shirt, and you can see Wingman crawling out of the tub.]

Iso almost laughs.

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Let me clean up. Ill be there in 15

GEKKO [15:43 UTC]

THANK YOU DUDE I was going actually crazy you are like a life saver

ISO [15:42 UTC]

👍

Thumbs-up? Thumbs-up?

Holy shit.

Iso unholsters his sidearm, putting on the safety as he makes his way to the teleporter, walking through it with a shudder (he’ll never get used to it) and making another healthy stride toward the locker room. He passes Omen’s desk, glancing at his bonsai tree left with a refilled watering can as he puts four of his fingers on the handle, the fingerprint scanner whirring and clicking the locker open with a little green light. Iso puts away his gun in the tiny mold left in the back part of the locker.

On the little hanger for his mission outfit, he has a woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks prior; red, purple, white, and black in nature. He took it off before training. It means quite a bit to him, and he would hate to mess it up.

He goes to close his locker, looking at it for a moment, hesitating, then closing it.

He was going to help bathe Wingman– he doesn’t want to get it dirty.

Iso’s sneakers pitter against the floor, narrow steps suddenly growing heavy as he approached Gekko’s door. He knocks, putting his hands in his pockets immediately after.

Gekko doesn’t seem to notice, as Iso hears small Spanish curse words leave his lips behind the muffled door. Iso shrugs, pushing the sliding door open with a small huff. He closes it behind him and walks towards Gekko’s bathroom door, generously left open for his incoming guest.

The sight is comedic. Wingman is hurdled over his owner’s shoulder, trying to squirm his way out of Gekko’s grip, both hands reaching outward like a baby trying to reach something. Gekko has his hands on Wingman’s chubby jelly sides, holding him back with an iron grip. Wingman suddenly falls limp at the sight of Iso, except for the grabby hands that continue. Gekko turns around, confused.

“Oh, shit, you’re here.” His eyes widen, letting go of Wingman. He hops down to climb Iso like a jungle gym, and Iso picks him up before his pants get any soap on them, walking over to the tub once again, and placing Wingman in.

“Let me take off my jacket. I can’t really help with all this stuff on–” Iso says, turning on his heel. Gekko gives him an acknowledging ‘aight’ and very gently scolds Wingman to stay.

Iso walks to Gekko’s bed (his radivore sling was notably discarded on the bed— a pair of eyes look at him) tugging his hoodie over his head. He neatly lies it on the end of Gekko’s bed, having done so quite a few times before (Gekko often called Iso up for a friendly hangout that consisted of Iso knocking out a few hours into their gaming sessions). He looks at the gloves on his hands, removing them with the tiniest bit of clamminess.

He feels weird without them.

He tucks them into the pockets of the hoodie, sliding over to Gekko’s post, and kneeling on the bathmat. Wingman looks up at Iso expectantly. “I’ve never… washed a radivore before.”

“All good. It’s pretty damn simple if you ask me. Just lather the little guy up with some soap until he’s extra squeaky clean. It’s the same for the rest of my crew.” Gekko explains, handing Iso the soap along with a little glove with bristles. Gekko has one on his non-dominant hand. “And you literally can’t mess this up. Bro loves you.”

Iso nods, taking it. “Pfft, I hope so,” he responds, feeling the warm water against his one bare hand.

He’s not particularly used to having his gloves off. Sure, he takes them off when he has to, but otherwise, they stay on. He feels practically naked without them. The same goes for his headphones. His little earbuds are in his ears, playing music low enough to the point where he can still understand what Gekko is saying.

UBER EATS, Northside Hollow & Ethan Ross

Gekko watches as Iso puts on the glove. He places his bare hand to hold Wingman gently as Iso puts a generous amount of soap on the garment, lathering it on Wingman’s jelly head. He watches attentively, folding his arms on the edge of the bathtub to rest his head in. Gekko takes in the sight in front of him; Iso, in his bathroom, washing his little buddy with all of the benignity in the world.

Iso glances toward Gekko, a small huff leaving his lips, “So you called me here to do your dirty work for you?”

“No, I called you here to be Wingman’s .. uhh, social … buffer. He likes you. I’m using my resources to my advantage! Boom.” Gekko moves his hands to the best of his ability despite resting on them– his animated self refuses to go unseen even in a moment of exhaustion. “He’s been fussy all day,” Gekko reaches his gloved hand to lather some soap on the radivore’s back, “but the second you show up,” a short breath, “se convierte en un angelito.”

Iso understood ‘convierte’ and ‘angelito’ when placed together. He assumed from context clues… “He turns into an angel.”

He stifles a laugh.

…

“Hey,”

Gekko blinks, “What’s good?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask–” he keeps his gaze on Wingman, but he can feel Gekko staring him down, “–we never exchanged names. Of course, we have our callsigns, but … that’s different. I just feel since we’ve been hanging out so often we should refer to each other as something more … uh, friendlier than … Gekko. Or Iso.”

“Oh?” Gekko furrows his brows, running his bare hand through his prickly green hair, “Damn, you’re right,”

It was… odd, admittedly, but, when he really thought about it, Iso was right. How many weeks has it been? Hell, it’s probably been a bit more than a few months. He’s been hanging out with this guy almost non-stop and yet, they don’t know each other’s actual names.

Iso knocks him free from his thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’m so down. Just, how do we like, go about this? Like… yo, man, my name is blah, blah, blah.”

 Iso offers a playful smile, “Rock, paper, scissors for it?” he asks, swatting his bare hand in the air to remove excess droplets, drying it to the best of his ability. “If I lose, I go first. And vice versa.” He holds his fist out to indicate the beginning of the game.

Gekko laughs, a small grin on his face as he puts his fist up. “Oh, you’re on.”

“Aight– rock, paper, scissors, shoot–!”

Iso plays paper.

Gekko plays scissors. “Tough luck.”

Iso lets out a small laugh, returning to washing Wingman. He keeps his gaze on the radivore, feeling Gekko’s eyes burn into him like fire.

“My full name is Li Zhao Yu.” Iso makes sure to accentuate every letter.

“Li … Zhao Yu,” Gekko repeats it back to him, getting a few of the syllables wrong, but Iso is quick to correct him— gently, of course.

“Shit, that’s cool. So, it’d be just Zhao Yu, right?” He asks after the mild training, lifting his head up from the side of the tub, holding himself up by his chin.

“Yeah, basically.” Iso shrugs, returning to washing Wingman.

“Yo, could I mash those together? I think that’d be a pretty sick nickname,” before Iso could say anything, Gekko spits out, “Zhayu. It’s like, not even that different, but, it sounds cool as fuck, right?”

Iso looks at Gekko, eyes wide.

“I don’t have to use it if you don’t wanna—“

“No,” Iso says almost immediately, “I mean— no, I like it. I just haven’t had someone give me a nickname in— I don’t know— forever,” Iso admits with a small laugh, rinsing Wingman. “It’s nice. I like it.”

Gekko lets out the tiniest sigh of relief, “Good. I didn’t wanna like, overstep.”

Iso nods followed by a small hum of acknowledgement. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh, yeah— we doin’ full names, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh man,” Gekko says between a laugh, pushing himself to sit up straight. He reaches over for the towel on the counter, holding it and awaiting Iso to hold him up, clearing his throat, “My full, legal, name is Mateo Armendáriz De la Fuente.”

“… what.”

Gekko laughs even harder than last time, “Dude, that’s why I asked. It’s kind of a mouthful.” He bites back a laugh, “You can just call me Mateo.”

“Mateo … Armen—what? Woah, you’re right,” Iso says with a tiny laugh punctuating the end of his sentence, “if you think you butchered my name, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with yours.”

He then realizes the meaning behind his words, quick to defend himself, “I’m not saying your name is weird or anything— it’s just hard for me to pronounce— or uh, remember, in that sense.”

“Maybe I should just stick to Mateo.”

Gekko laughs, thankfully.

“I’ll learn your full name, trust me,” Iso says, drying off Wingman like a little baby.

“I know, man.”

“But, now that I’m looking at you… you really do strike me as a Mateo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gekko raises a brow, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh— nothing, it just— makes sense?” Iso quickly explains, not wanting to offend.

“Dude, you’re chill. I’m just playin’.”

Iso blinks, turning back to Wingman. “One more thing,”

“Yeah?”

“Where did your crew’s names come from?” Iso asks out of the blue, holding Wingman up in the air next to his head, making him face Gekko with him.

“Honestly, most of them kinda just … came to me,” Gekko admits, not having an exact answer. “I kinda named them based on their whole ability thing—? I dunno how to explain it.”

“Dizzy has that plasma thing— and guess what! Makes people dizzy. Get it?” He shrugs, “Wingman’s kinda self-explanatory. He’s my wingman.”

“Then, uh, Thrash. She was kind of the more aggressive outta-all of them? And if we’re goin’ back to the whole ability-based-name-thing, Mosh seems pretty self-explanatory too, yeah?”

“I guess— makes more sense now,” Iso shrugs. “And that’s pretty cu—“

Cool.

“— cu-ool,” Iso catches himself, making a weird new word in trying to save himself from that embarrassment.

He quickly holds up Wingman for Gekko to dry, and lest Iso’s anticipations, Gekko doesn’t take Wingman from his hands, just running the towel on Wingman to dry him off.

Iso feels Gekko’s hands against his, hindered by the towel between them as he holds Wingman while Gekko pats him down to dry the little guy. A tiny rosyness creeps up to the round of Iso’s cheeks as he watches Gekko’s hands, hyper-aware of the fact that they would be touching if it weren’t for the towel working as a barrier.

Iso looks away, tapping his finger on Wingman as gently as he can to the beat of the song playing in his earbuds.

Gekko’s eyes flick up to Iso midway through the task, and he smiles. Gekko smiles up at Iso and he returns it without a second thought.

“Yo, you’re all red, amigo.”

No fucking way.

“Há? No, am I? I’m not, no, it’s just the light, no?” Iso sprints through his words, looking at Gekko everywhere but his eyes. He utters a curse in Chinese, tilting his head away in an effort to hide his supposed blush. “Sorry.”

backseat, jungle bobby & lentra.

“Pfft,” Gekko lets out the tiniest giggle, “It’s aight.”

Iso comes back to reality when Wingman shimmies out of his grip, running back to the harness on Gekko’s bed. He almost begs the little radivore to stay– to save him from this terrible situation. He thinks he could die.

Instead, Iso looks at the radivore harness like a broken man, and Gekko laughs even harder, forcing Iso to get up.

“I’m grabbing my hoodie.” He announces, shuffling towards the bed.

“Oh, come on– I don’t mean to tease–”

Iso rolls his eyes, falling onto Gekko’s bed, face first. He grabs his hoodie– gently pushing Gekko’s harness out of the way– now pulling the pull-over up under his chin as a pillow. 

He didn’t want to believe he was in love with his best friend, but Iso knew he was too far gone to even deny it anymore. The way Gekko laughed, the way he teased him, the jokes he made, and the considerate things he did for him, whether it be making little woven bracelets or buying him Boba whenever he went out— that was all casual, right? It had to be.

Gekko walks out– Iso doesn’t notice– and sits near the headboard, looking down at him with yet another teasing grin. It’s fucking lethal.

Then, with that smile, Iso realizes.

Of fucking course it wasn’t.

Iso averts his gaze, jaw dropped as he came to that realization.

“Relax, bro. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.” He hears Gekko say.

Iso shoves his face into his hoodie. There’s silence until Gekko asks the burning question,

“Were you going to say that it was cute, or am I crazy?”

Iso groans. “Do we really– do we really have to talk about this now??” He says with half of his speech muffled as he finally peeks up from his hoodie, blush flaring into his pale skin.

“I mean, you’ve slipped up a lot like that before. I dunno why you’re tweakin’ right now,” Gekko shrugs.

That sentence makes Iso’s heart drop.

“I’ve what.”

Gekko looks at Iso and is met with a beautiful picture; he’s resting on his bed (his!) and his eyes are a bright violet, looking at Gekko with a wide expression. If Gekko could peer into his mind, he’d only find that Iso is so embarrassed that he might as well have been stripped bare in public– but despite all of it, he finds Iso sprawled like this endearing. It’s hilarious, even– how did Iso not notice Gekko noticing all of the little moments? The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the late-night talks– Gekko almost laughs at his obliviousness.

The silence is almost suffocating, so Gekko begins, “Zhayu,” a breath, “you’re not as slick as you think.”

Gekko looks at Iso’s hands, and they’re balled into tight fists, and when he looks into those raging violet eyes again, they’re twitching.

“And…” Iso sounds out of breath, “You never told me?!”

Gekko blinks. Then he howls.

“No! Don’t laugh–!“ Iso pushes himself up, kneeling on the bed in a position that would definitely make his feet numb later, “Gekk– Mateo. How long? And— just how many times have I slipped up like this around you?” Iso curses just a few seconds after the delivery of that sentence, running a hand through his hair, forehead moist.

Gekko sits up straight, adjusting his sitting stance into crisscrossed, looking away as he puckers his lips, drumming his hands on his thighs, “Man, you know… like… was I supposed to count?”

Iso’s eyebrows drop.

“Mateo, I will strangle you right here, right now.” Iso threatens, but his hands don’t move from his knees. Gekko looks at him with a dubious look, and Iso realizes he isn’t exactly feeding into the whole ‘fear factor’ of it. He’s quick to lift up his hands in front of him and exaggerate the motion as if he’s moving Gekko’s head back and forth like a maraca.

It’s silent.

Then, it’s enough to make Gekko fall into a giggle fit. Then, Iso gets mad that he’s not taking his threat seriously. Then, Iso is so mad that he starts laughing. Hard.

He’s hurled over on his knees, holding his stomach as he falls onto his side, just next to Gekko’s knee, and his gut hurts. His gut hurts from laughing, and Iso realizes he’s laughing with no one better than Gekko himself. Iso cough-laughs, covering his mouth. Gekko is hitting himself with his fist, smack dab in the chest to stop himself from coughing. Iso remembers the little ‘I lowkey have asthma’ and one last laugh bubbles out from his throat.

He looks at where the woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks ago would be and imagines it; purple, white, red, and black, all woven together to create a sense of Iso in itself.

He feels naked. Yet the mirage reminds him that he would protect it with his life.

Gekko deflates, his arms lining up behind him to keep himself steady. His head falls to where Iso’s head is, then his unusually bare wrist.

“Where’s your bracelet?” He asks, reaching over, and tapping on the little pulse point where it would be. “I thought you liked it.”

“I didn’t want to mess it up when we cleaned Wingman,” Iso breathes, his voice tired.

Gekko hums.

Iso blinks.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” Iso says blankly, feeling Gekko’s fingers brush up against his wrist ever so slightly as he retreats them back to hold himself up. Iso’s fingers twitch with anticipation. He bites his lip softly, looking at Gekko’s surprisingly soft hands, despite them looking so rough.

Iso keeps half of his face in the sheets, left cheek squished up against the surface. He rests on the bed, getting comfortable with Gekko at his side, legs crossed and looking at him like he is a piece of valuable, fragile treasure and not the cold-hearted ‘Dead Lilac’ killer everyone made him out to be.

No, Iso corrects himself, not everyone. Me.

Iso is who makes himself out to be the Dead Lilac. He leaves that behind today; hopefully forever.

“And you’re mine, querido.” Gekko breathes, his foreign tongue slipping. Gekko registers what he said seconds later, quick to change the subject, “You look like a cat like this.”

Iso mumbles, “Querido? What does that…” But he gives up halfway through the question, mostly because he knows Gekko won’t tell him what it means. “A cat?” He instead asks, raising a brow. Gekko flicks his cheek, and he mumbles a small “ow” as soon as the stinging feeling occurs. “I’m not going to meow if that’s what you’re asking.”

A chuckle, “That sucks.”

“Ew, you want me to meow?” Iso feigns a laugh, hiding his full face in the sheets to muffle the tiny effervesce, before coming back to look up at Gekko. “You’re so weird, Mateo.”

“Hater.”

Iso sticks his tongue out, lifting his right arm to flick Gekko’s nose.

“Ow.”

Then it’s quiet. Iso hates quiet.

“Teo. I want to ask you something.”

supernova, Godly the Ruler.

Gekko feels like he knows what’s coming. “Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about …” Iso pauses, looking away to regain some of the composure that he lost as he began the sentence, “Have you ever thought about us? And what we are?” Iso exhales, unaware he is holding his breath. “Because I don’t know what we are at this very moment.”

Iso had avoided eye contact for so long. He brings himself to look at Gekko, and he looks at him the second the look in his best friend’s eyes alters.

“I have.” A deep breath, “Many times.”

“What do you think about? What are we?” Iso asks.

He quickly adds to the end, “To you?”

“I…” Gekko purses his lips, “Well, right now. We’re just homies, yeah?”

“At the moment … I’d say so.”

Iso looks at where the bracelet would be— a fond reminder of their camaraderie. Then he looks into Gekko’s eyes and finds the same unreadable look. He looks at Iso’s wrist with such fondness. Happiness. Content. A secret fourth thing. Iso finds comfort in it.

“What about everything else you’ve thought of?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Do you want to tell me?” Iso asks, avoiding Gekko’s gaze, and he realizes that their two hands are almost grazing— holding each other. Iso’s hand twitches again. “If so, yes.”

“Pfft,” Iso swears he sees a mischievous glint in Gekko’s eyes, “Least serious… uuh…”

“I’ve thought of kissing you.”

Iso’s face distorts, pursing his lips as he shoots up from his lying position. “Least serious?! That’s the most uncasual thing I can think of!” He almost shouts out of pure shock. He’s not angry, just confused.

Gekko belly laughs, his hand smacking onto his stomach to support himself, “I’m playin’! There’s stuff before that, tonto.”

Iso wants to smack him for messing with him like that. That thought is wiped when he sees the red against Gekko’s ears and he’s done for. Smitten.

“And… compared to other shit, I think that’s pretty tame.”

…

“You’re so gross.” Iso blurts out.

“What? You wanted the truth, so you got the truth,” Gekko holds his hands up in defense before falling next to him again, “and to give you the whole truth, if I were to tell you what I’m thinking now, it’d be... that… ay…” Gekko’s right hand returns to his face, covering his mouth and trailing down his jaw, “maybe there have been times I’ve thought about us– and not as what we said we were a few minutes ago.”

Iso understands those connotations. He looks in the middle of their laps, almost touching. He exhales.

“I would say that the thought is mutual.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause, “... Yes.”

“Mateo, I—“ Iso purses his lips. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“You welcomed me. Open arms. I don’t know if you… if you knew, but, you invited me anyway. I didn’t know if you were just like that with everyone, but– either way, you– you are just… perfect. I got to know you and I was like, how could anyone ever hate this guy? You’re everything, you’re all that there is right, and, wǒ qù, I can’t even fucking describe–” 

It’s hot. Then Iso realizes why.

Gekko leans in, pressing their lips together in a tender, soft embrace. Iso’s lips are the tiniest bit chapped against Gekko’s fairly soft ones, and he eats it all up. He relishes the feeling of his lips on Gekko’s— his best friend.

He stays like that for a hot minute, pulling away and looking at Gekko like a lost kitty who had found homage in him. He catches his breath.

“... I didn’t know how to shut you up–”

“Oh my God.” Iso smacks Gekko’s shoulder and in return, he pokes him in the side.

Iso jolts, letting out a quiet yelp— one that’s a bit out of character for his assassin background.

Then Gekko has a devious look on his face.

Was the fabled ‘Dead Lilac’ … ticklish?

Iso quickly covers his mouth in embarrassment, grip tightening as he realizes the noise he just let out. He looks at Gekko.

“No way.”

“No. It wasn’t anything. That wasn’t me, it was … Thrash—“ Iso quickly tries to back himself up, hand slipping from his mouth and immediately going to cover his sides as a last defense.

“Uh-huh. And where is Thrash?” He asks, nudging his head towards his harness as his hand reaches over to an exposed part of Iso’s side.

“Mateo!” Iso quickly scrambles away, rolling over to the other side of the bed, getting on his knees, and holding his left arm in front of him, creating distance between them as his right arm wraps around his own waist, trying to protect himself from an impending tickle attack.

“I will wrestle you on this bed and win.”

“I have little siblings and cousins. Fuckin’ bring it.”

And then he pounces.

The tickle match is full of empty threats, foreign curses, and lots of giggles. Too many. There was a cackle here and there, maybe even a snort. By the time it ended, Gekko fell from his place on top of Iso, lying next to him with a few laughter-filled coughs. Iso catches his breath.

“Mateo,”

A breathless “Yeah?”

“I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Iso’s headphones die.

A deep breath, “Can I?”

Iso stares at the ceiling. He notices Gekko is, too.

It’s quiet. So fucking quiet.

But Iso can handle it now.

Gekko is next to him, their arms are touching, and the silence isn't deafening for once. He feels the energy in the room and it doesn’t suffocate him, if anything, he’s breathing better.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Iso turns on his side. Gekko faces him.

Iso’s tired expression shifts into a happy, close-eyed smile as he tackles Gekko into a bear hug, invariably pushing him down onto the bed, putting his full body weight onto the poor guy, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

Gekko let out an involuntary gasp as Iso suddenly tackled him down onto the bed, nearly winding him as felt Iso’s full weight. He laughed softly, the air knocked out of him as he lay there under, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around Iso and holding him tightly against his chest.

“Yeah, mi corazón,” he said softly, “Thank you.”

“Corazón,” Iso exhales against Gekko’s neck, pushing himself off from the top, “what does that mean?” He asks, breathing against Gekko’s chest, cheek squished against it. He holds him softer now, breathing in Gekko’s cologne.

“My heart,” Gekko says, a careful hand running up Iso’s clothed back, drawing small circles, “you are my heart, Zhao Yu.”

“If I am your heart,” he feels Gekko’s heartbeat against his cheek, “then, you are my treasure,” Iso smiles, “bǎo bèi.”

“Bǎo bèi…” he repeats sleepily, “mi tesoro.” Gekko breathes.

“I love it when you speak Spanish, Teo.” Iso says, nickname rolling off his tongue tiredly. “I don’t understand it, but it’s…” a huff, “nice.”

Gekko has a feeling he wanted to say something else, “Yeah?”

Iso realizes he’s fucking done for (again), “¿Te gusta cuando hablo español, mi tesoro?”

“Augh, stop it,” Iso rolls his eyes, pushing Gekko’s face back by his chin, looking away, laughing just a little bit. “You’re such a tease, sha bī.”

“Aww, is that another cute nickname?”

“No. I called you an idiot.”

“Oh. Chúpamela.” Gekko deadpans, flicking Iso’s forehead with little to no remorse.

Iso laughs and realizes that this is all he has ever wanted. This was bliss, and Iso has felt this way for as long as he was in Gekko’s presence. He moves ever so slightly, just so he can smell Gekko’s cologne, and his new boyfriend allows it. It smells of lemon zest with the faint undertones of green apple and vanilla. Iso swears that he can smell the tiniest bit of cedarwood. That combination with Gekko’s personal musk makes him dizzy. (Pun intended)

“You smell good.”

“You like my cologne? I wanted to try a new one.” Gekko says breathily, drumming the pads of his fingers on Iso’s back in a rhythmic pattern.

“I know. You smelled different.” Iso mumbles, inhaling. “I like this one better, though. The other one was too…” He thinks of a descriptor, “Smoky.”

“I used to layer two colognes,” Gekko admits, “The footnotes on it were tobacco, vanilla, then uhh… truffle, I think.”

“Too smoky.”

“It was a gift from Brimstone. I felt kinda bad,” He mumbled, “I’d feel better if he taught me how the hell he got his score so high in the video games in the basement.”

“You’re still trying to beat it?”

“Yeah.”

“… wait, you noticed that I changed my cologne?” Gekko blinks, looking down at Iso, who looks up to him bashfully.

“Maybe,” he exhales, adjusting his position to face away from Gekko, “it’s a very discernible smell— anyone would notice.”

“Sure.”

Gekko slightly spoons Iso, resting his head atop his, breathing in. “Damn, your hair smells like…” he thinks, “Tangerines?” he says with a slight hint of confusion in his voice.

“It’s just my shampoo,” Iso hums, shifting himself to tilt his head up at Gekko, “I like tangerines.”

“Me too,” Gekko says.

Quietly, Iso asks, “We just gonna stay like this?”

“What time is it?”

Iso looks at the alarm clock to the side. Before he can speak, his stomach grumbles, which prompts Gekko to ask instead, “Have you eaten?”

“I had breakfast.”

“You need to eat.”

Iso exhales knowing there’s no stopping Gekko– he’s already getting up and Iso follows that action. It’s quick, it’s swift, and his new boyfriend grabs his wrist and pulls him up onto his feet, intertwining their hands. They’ve held hands before– you know, in cases where Gekko is dragging him through a crowd at a festival or Iso has to pull him away from getting distracted while the agents go shopping. But this was different. The old Iso would probably tug his hand away, but the new Iso is comforted by this scenario– better yet, he seeks it. He never wants to let go of it and he doesn’t think he ever will. Gekko’s touch is grounding and Iso feels his mind go quiet as their fingers interlace. His free hand comes to remove his headphones and awkwardly puts them in the case, shoving his hand into his pocket.

“Alright.”

He’s gotten used to this.

hope you enjoyed! it's my second valorant fic i've written, so hopefully i did them justice.

here's my twitter! check it out please i need moots (not just valorant) LMAO