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cannellee · 2 months

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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE (mythological au!) ☆

demigod! alpha! tokyo revengers x omega! reader (pairing : kazutora, mitsuya, baji, mikey, takemichi, shinichiro, izana, ran, draken, taiju, kokonoi, kakucho)

— a mix of what cabins they would be in and how they would be like with their omega (cabin = which god/goddess would they be the son of)

my masterlist : ☆

(I just finished watching the serie 'percy jackson' on disney+ and I just thought it would be an interesting idea to explore! of course it's purely my opinion and it might not be really representative. it's also fine if you don't know anything about percy jackson! I didn't add any details about the plot/storyline)

(+ if you've read my other headcanons, some of them might be similar to what I've already posted.. I hope none of you will mind!)

(+ I'm thinking about making it a serie : about a huge harem probably? or separated stories about omega!reader's life inside the half blood camp pls tell me what you think!!)

ALPHA! KAZUTORA (aphrodite)

he's a hard one, like all the others, but I remember seeing a post in which kazutora was described as fairly attractive and that he was quite popular with the girls. seeing just how deceiving he can be with a charming smile on, convinced me to put him under the banner of aphrodite.

with the omega he wants to court, kazutora has no shame making use of his powers to woo her. he'll manipulate her emotions so she can only find comfort in his arms. despite being an alpha, kazutora has a pretty delicate scent which makes you want to trust him. he's aware of his charm and makes a good use of it whenever he considers necessary.

he's hopelessly devoted and indulges in his passionate love a 100%, so he often comes off as intense and overwhelming. he doesn't care though, he loves his omega with a burning passion and you need to know it. people also need to stay put, as he's pretty jealous. he's not the son of love itself for nothing, if an opponent arises, he's quick to get rid of him.

as I said, kazutora is willing to manipulate you in order to get you under his watch. he wants to supervise his lover. as an alpha, he's even more protective and possessive, he's terrified of losing you to someone else. he'll shower you with compliments and affection, inevitably forcing you to let your guard down because he's just so kind. this will make it easy for him to keep you under his influence, whether you know it or not.

as a child of aphrodite, kazutora wants to make you fall in love with him, it doesn't matter if it's with a false image of him or if he had to manipulate you. he just wants his pretty omega by his side, the only one worthy of his love and worship.

kazutora still is a toxic person, he'll exploit your vulnerabilities and the trust you place in him, for his own gain. he could use guilt-tripping, gaslighting or emotional blackmail ; he has no morals. he wants you for himself and he'll use any ways he sees fit to achieve his dream of being the only one you think about. you're the only one on his mind, it should go both ways, otherwise kazutora will feel betrayed.

you often get confused at his behaviour. how can someone be so kind, soft and attentive to you, just to end up messing with your mind like that. you don't know what to think anymore and you're just left with kazutora as your compass, as he successfully got rid of anything susceptible to drive you away from him. you didn't even realise – with how sweetly overbearing his presence is – that he managed to make your cute little brain forget about everything else. your feelings, all over the place because of his sickly gentle smiles and words, made you solely focus on him to the point that you just couldn't find happiness in anyone else but him.

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ALPHA! MITSUYA (hera)

I think he could be a child of hera ; he's a great cook, responsible and reliable, independent and has his priorities straight. it's also confirmed that he's one of the best boyfriends of toman and I know alpha!mitsuya's dream is to build a family. the way he looks after his little sisters, despite his exhaustion, is a sign of how family oriented he is.

mitsuya is just so kind with his omega, reassuring, and a strong power you can count on. you don't fear anything when he's here, he's a protector and a provider. he has a deep sense of duty which compels him to keep you healthy and happy.

his omega is his joy, he's happy if you are. mitsuya is committed and view your relationship as something extremely serious he would never let go of. he expects the same devotion from his omega, as he values loyalty above anything else.

he wishes for you both to marry each other as he thrives in your presence. you can expect a merry domestic life with him, he takes care of you and keeps the relationship going with cute and funny date ideas. he has everything planned along for you, he wants to secure your future and make sure everything goes smoothly.

he also provides a stable environment for you, he approaches conflicts calmly and rationally, so you never stressed out whenever you have one of those rare arguments. your couple is healthy and lovely, mitsuya cuddles you each day, calls you whenever he has time and he's away ; he wants nothing more than to keep you safe, showering you with tender affection.

you'll never feel unloved or unsafe. hera is fierce and protective, she's also a jealous deity who sees her couple as almost sacred. mitsuya will eradicate any threats that might come your way. he'll go feral should his omega ever feel scared and distressed. it would mean that he failed as your alpha and mitsuya would feel more than defeated, crushed and will be desperate to make it up to you, to show you you can still rely on him. please give him a chance.

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ALPHA! BAJI (zeus)

baji is a son of zeus. he might not be the leader of toman, but he does have that central position with a ton lot of leadership qualities in him. he kind of is a mediator in a way, and cares for the people around him a lot, and they also look up to him, which gives him a lot of authority.

he's controlling and will absolutely get mad in the right situations. baji doesn't let just anyone near his omega, but he tries to take your opinions into consideration. he might be an alpha and therefore know better than you about whether something or someone is dangerous, but he'll let you do your own thing as long as he's there to watch and protect.

he wants a bit of control over you as well. as I said, his protective instincts are strong and very sensitive, he isn't delusional the way kazutora could be, but he's weary and suspicious. one wrong move and that man you were talking to is done for.

it might come out as small bursts of aggressiveness and anger, throwing earth shaking thunders whenever his omega's well being and honour are threatened. this behaviour of his truly is a shocking contrast to how soft and enamored he is with you. people are cautious around him, scared even, like they are walking around a volcano ready to burst. but you just have that privileged relationship with him, which allows you to let your guard down and jokingly mess with him. he lets you do about anything you want and accepts everything you do with a straight face and a satisfied scent.

baji wants to claim you. not just for everyone to see but to feel a connection with the one he devoted himself to. you're his whole world, you offer him stability and a place he can finally let go of all his worries and responsibilities. he wants nothing more than to solidify that strong link between the two of you.

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ALPHA! TAKEMICHI (hermes)

without any surprise, takemichi definitely is a son of hermes. be it the way he time travels, his smart personality (yes) ; he can think quickly and make the actual best decisions even if he doesn't realise it. despite being awkward, he communicates well and makes friends everywhere he goes, he's a people magnet and charms them unknowingly.

takemichi was able to court you with his naturally funny personality and playful banter. he's awkward ; and that's a good change you love to see in an alpha. he's not overwhelming and gives you your own space. he's respectful and values your opinions so much to the point that you might as well be his moral compass.

he has great principles and you would never abuse his kindness and dedication to you. but you can't help but notice how tamed he becomes whenever you're talking to him. if you tell or ask him something, he complies without a word.

in his eyes, you're glowing and smell so divinely good. are you sure you're not a goddess yourself ? because takemichi just can't get enough of you, as if he's hypnotized.

despite being surrounded by so many people, takemichi's eyes are solely set on you. he lives to make you laugh and is very sensitive about your emotions ; whenever you're down and feeling stressed, he quickly becomes a huge support. he calms you, reassures you by drowning you in his scent and praises. he knows exactly what to say.

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ALPHA! MIKEY (ares)

I don't think it surprises anyone as well, but I see him as a child of ares. although with his complex personality it's hard to rank him under a god for sure, but he shares the most traits with him, especially with his "dark impulse". he likes to fight, get into trouble and doesn't actively respect hierarchies. and not only does he love throwing hands, but he's particularly good at it, to the point of sparking fear and respect to his comrades and enemies alike.

mikey's personality as the son of ares isn't exactly that far from the reality. he's often violent, and for no particular reasons. but he's even more reckless whenever it involves his omega. along with provoking such violent urges, it also gives him another reason to beat someone up and he would never dodge that chance.

still, he's charismatic and despite everything, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. he's so confident, jumping into any battles without an ounce of fear that your instincts can't help but feel at ease with him. you know you have nothing to fear ; mikey will protect you at the cost of his life. and his reputation also works like a charm to keep danger at bay.

mikey is jealous, and will become enraged if you were to show interest or affection for other men. instead of confronting you, he'll just erase them directly. that way, you have no other choice than to turn to him. if mikey keeps eliminating all of his concurrency, you'll soon come to realise that no other alphas can compare to him. you'll look at him with just as much love and desperation as he does. he doesn't care if he has to use his power and influence to keep you by his side, he'll do it with little to no regard for consequences. so what if you're mad or devastated, it was the right thing to do : a good alpha can't let bugs crawl around his omega.

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ALPHA! SHINICHIRO (apollo)

I hesitated between apollo and hephaestus, but I figured the only think he really shares with him is his ability to create, his love for machines and his technical skills. so I settled for apollo! shinichiro is a peaceful mediator, kind and compassionate, he sees the good in everyone and doesn't tolerate people without any sense of morality. he might not play any instrument and doesn't have a particular taste for music, but he has that healing and positive aura that draws people to him, kind of like takemichi.

in shinichiro's eyes, you're a joy to be around and he wants to keep that merry personality of yours by his side for as much as you'll let him.

I like to imagine alpha!shinichiro similar to who he was during the first timeline : a fierce and great fighter, with an abundant love for his family.

shinichiro nurtures an ardent affection for you, unwavering and he borderline worships you. he won't let anyone harm you, he'll fight for you, threatens anyone for you and do so much more. he has a sense of responsibility now that you're his, he can't let you down nor disappoint you. you'll see just how much of an infatuated man he is.

apollo is cruel and vengeful ; shinichiro doesn't tolerate any negative intentions towards his omega. he's observant and doesn't let second chances : if you disrespect his lover, you'll pay, end of story.

just remember apollo's love life, he's passionate and romantic. it goes beyond death and he's loyal to a fault. shinichiro knows you're the one, you make him believe in love at first sight.

just as any other god, apollo is jealous. this trait of his passed down to shinichiro, who actually acts out on this feeling secretly. he won't ever let you see such a bad side of him ; he's supposed to be your unshakable partner, calm and collected. he'll just claim you, scent you, appears more often with you during social outings. and if that still doesn't work, he'll have no choice but to be more violent. but you'll know none of this ; he'll remain confident and positive, with soft smiles and tender kisses.

he provides such a comforting space for his omega, soothing any of your worry with a radiant smile. you know he has everything under control, so you can abandon yourself completely to your alpha.

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ALPHA! IZANA (hades)

izana could be associated with so many deities but I'll settle for hades. his deranged thoughts and past actually make up most of his personality and explain his whole behaviour; he can't let go of any of his burdens and remains absolutely crushed and tortured by them. he feels lonely, betrayed and has so many negative emotions circling around him. he has trouble connecting with other people the way any normal person would, he's rude and direct, and you can even think he doesn't actually care about his comrades because of his aggressive actions.

contrary to hades, izana does let out his emotions a lot. he actually can't quite control them and is often a slave to his own feelings. he's crazily jealous and possessive, his instincts are all over the place, forcing him to keep you locked away somewhere he considers safe enough.

he hates those lusty eyes people have whenever you come by, he wants to just tear their faces apart. still, he does nothing, too preoccupied by the image you might have of him.

he's violent and pitiless, but there are times when he's self conscious and would hate himself if you were to tremble and cry from fear of him. sure it does help to keep you in check ; his omega should listen well, stay put and pretty, ready to obey him. but there's a limit he's not mentally ready to cross. don't hate him the way others do, don't look at him with a consuming fear he's so familiar to see in other's eyes.

you're one of the few people, if not the only, he lets himself be vulnerable around. he expects a devotion and willingness on your side to just do anything he asks. he won't hesitate to force you into submission, coating you with sweet words contrasting of his actions ; he doesn't know how to love and it will feel suffocating at times. but you manage.

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ALPHA! RAN (dionysus)

an easy one. dionysus is the god of wine and parties and likes to be the center of attention, although this could be more accurate for bonten!ran era. ran just loves to indulge in pleasures, participate in what one would consider as immoral and unholy. he actually couldn't care less about other people's opinions and simply enjoys what life has in store (brothels, alcohol, murder... you get it). ran is a red flag and he just enjoys chaos, he doesn't care about stability and just want to have fun. he's intense and often hard to decipher, making him a complex person.

ran is absolutely infatuated with you, he finds you intriguing, ridiculously pretty and your scent is intoxicating. how can he not desire your presence ?

being with you feels like a drug, you just can't leave his mind and that's why he can't let go of you either. he indulges fully into the pleasures of life and you just so happen to be the perfect embodiment of all the joys he seems to crave so openly.

he is sociable and there always seems to be a flock of people around him. he loves the attention, but yours particularly, to your surprise. you don't know what about you charmed him, why you of all people considering how popular he is. but here you are, glued to him and not exactly out of your own will.

ran wants you by his side, so you'll stay. simple as that. he's constantly burying his nose in the crook of your neck. you just smell so nice and every part of you is to die for. he extends predatory hands out to you, exploring your body shamelessly without any concerns for how you feel. he just wants to touch you, feel you and own you.

he's a great talker, he knows exactly what to tell you to make you behave the way he wants. if he doesn't like you around someone, he won't tell you directly, although he could, considering the power he has over you. but he'd rather make it fun : not letting you have any control over the situation and making you act a certain way all because he decided of it. like a puppet, you'll be under the good will of ran, you don't have a word to say.

despite this complex personality, he doesn't like when things get too complicated. yes he might enjoy tricking you and messing with your head, but he's all too open to fun and pleasure. so he's someone who'll spend his time having fun with you, never letting anything get boring.

as I said, he's possessive. he's an alpha and a demigod. you're both his plaything and partner, and he absolutely despises whenever someone tries to turn you away from him. just like how he looks for you first in a crowd, his omega can't have wandering eyes. he gets annoyed quickly when his fun is ruined by a stupid alpha, so he'll also get rid of the problem just as fast as it appeared. no time for gloomy and uncomfortable feelings !

he doesn't know any limits and doesn't seem to understand why you might have any. he'll let you do about anything to him, use him to satisfy any urge you might have, relieve your anger and envy however you like. just use him, just like he does with you. that's his definition of love and he can't help but levitate around you like a magnet. it's stronger than him.

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ALPHA! DRAKEN (poseidon)

I'm not satisfied with this pick, but draken works well as a son of poseidon. he's big and tall, imposing, but never goes too far, he knows how to regulate his strength as to not abuse it. he's protective and loyal, calm at times and especially when it's needed. he's a pillar to his team, toman, and people know they can count on him. he's stoic and you would never guess what's going on inside his head, although it doesn't mean he's aloof ; as I said, he's attentive and caring, he's both a shield and sword to his friends.

draken here is a bit similar to what I already wrote about him on my blog so I'll be quick.

it's painfully obvious you're his omega and you're not to be messed with. he's stable like the sea and you can't help but wish he'll let you stick with him. luckily, draken has heart eyes for you only, so he lets you have your own privileges.

it's sometimes so subtle you might not notice it. but draken does have a soft spot for you ; constantly checking up on you, asking you where you've been, what you did and with whom.

I know poseidon has a bad temper, he is proud and competitive. draken is all of the above but in a reasonable way, he doesn't go overboard. when he's in a stable condition, he knows he has the situation under control and doesn't even feel the need to keep you away. you're an omega sure, but he trusts himself enough that you don't need to be hidden.

as I said, he appears calm, but whenever he does get angry, albeit not that rare, it's always shocking and terrifying. he's so intimidating, he has that dark look which makes you want to lower your gaze, and his scent forces anyone to recognize his power.

he's so protective, gently cradling you in his arms if you're feeling scared. even if he knows you have nothing to be scared of – since he's there – he won't allow any negative emotions to crawl their way up to you. he's your shield to this particularly cruel world.

he will never judge you for how you feel : he's aware that omegas are more sensitive than alphas. he will therefore make sure you're never exposed to too much at once. he'll just assert dominance, both to keep you safe and to inform others that he's what they'll be confronted with if they ever approach you.

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ALPHA! TAIJU (ares)

another son of ares! I can't see him as anything else than that, taiju literally is the embodiment of war and violence. he has a quick temper, he easily gets annoyed and wants things to go his way. his solution to problems is to use his fists carelessly and he's not that reassuring, no matter who you are to him (friend, family, comrade or enemy). and I just know this man has a massive breeding kink, which would totally fit with ares, as he's a symbol of virility and masculine potency. this guy wants a lineage and to exert control over his omega.

same for him, I already described him pretty well in other posts so it will probably be repetitive.

taiju is unsurprisingly aggressive and thrives whenever he's surrounded by violence. he wants nothing more than to taste blood and feel the adrenaline a good fight gives him.

he wants you to look at him, to see just how strong your alpha is. be proud and feel safe. taiju is sending you painfully obvious messages of what will happen if he was to catch you cheating. you can be sure he'll never let it slide, he'll beat the hell out of anyone who looks at you and anyone you look at. by now, you learnt to never cross the eyes of anyone else for their own sake.

he's suffocating, his love is mean and jealous. you're his precious possession, don't leave his sight. he likes to see you look so small, he towers over you like he could crush your frail form if he didn't pay attention to how much pressure he was hugging you with.

this difference makes him feel in charge in the best way possible, he knows you can't resist him anyways. he loves that vulnerability of yours, how naive and dumb you can be. let taiju be the master of your decisions. as an alpha, he's way better suited to guide you than you are. please stay quiet and cute, just like always. he can't have his adorable omega tainted by unholy thoughts and disgusting people. you're so pure, you need to stay that way.

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ALPHA! KOKONOI (athena)

I was tempted to associate him to dionysus, but he doesn't have that extravagant personality and tendency of falling into the excesses. so athena is a pretty good pick I think. he's calm and collected, deeply loyal and ready to sacrifice himself for his loved ones, even going as far as giving up his morals. he's extremely smart and understands how everything works easily, he never strays from his goal once he has his mind set on it and his role as a money maker in his gang proves just how much his members trust him and recognize his reliability. moreover, he's not just brains, but knows how to fight pretty well, making him a great opponent.

he's cool headed most of the times. you're automatically attracted to him by his honesty and steadfast love for you. he wants the best for you and he'll give it to you in a heartbeat.

yes he does care about good and evil, what is right and wrong, but with his doe-eyed omega right in front of him, it's easy for him to just forget what morality is. he tries his best to add you into his virtuous life, but he often strays off from his righteous path if your safety is involved.

he's oftentimes composed and keeps his emotions his check, he doesn't get easily affected by the sorrows of others. but you're his weakness, and he hates your crying face despite everything. it bothers him so much to be this affected by you, but he slowly came to embrace his love for you, and life has never been easier.

he's so faithful. there's something about the both of you being so committed to one another that drives his mind crazy. he recognises you as one of his own, you're his omega and therefore, all of the people he interacts with need to show you the same respect he harbours for you.

just like athena is a defensive force, kokonoi has a strong sense of duty : he protects you without any fear. if he can't do that correctly then he has nothing to be proud of. it's a life rule at this point ; no harm should come across your silk-like skin.

he's possessive and does scent you a lot, but he doesn't want to come off as suffocating and too overpowering. he gives you your own time and space, letting you go away to cool off if you ever get mad at him. it does kill him to have you so far away from him and to know he's the reason of your annoyance, but he also knows what's best for your relationship and he doesn't want to risk anything he carefully built with you for so long.

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ALPHA! KAKUCHO (demeter)

I know this one will make a few brows furrow, but I just think it fits. demeter is kind and compassionate, just like kakucho. he has that protective role in the gang, especially towards izana and he's ready to ignore justice, morals and virtue in favour of his loved ones. he's similar in this way, to how protective demeter is with her daughter persephone. kakucho loves deeply and his fierce nature serves others, not his ideals or own goals.

kakucho is a kind alpha! he has no dirty thoughts and bad intentions towards you. he simply loves you and wish you would reciprocate his feelings.

he won't force anything on you, while being deeply involved in your relationship. he admires you and your generous personality. he thinks you're out of his league but still, he'll try to win your heart by exceeding every of your expectations.

just like demeter who's overly protective of her daughter, kakucho's main concern is his omega. it's getting repetitive but you need to know that an alpha mixed with a god can be nothing else if not possessive and protective.

kakucho reminds you of a warm home and you're always more than happy to jump into his arms, excited for his comforting hugs. he kisses your temple softly, whispers praises words of how pretty you look and caresses your knuckles with his thumb whenever he holds your hand.

it's literally written on his face that he loves you more than he values his life. he gets shy when you mention it but never denies it. contrary to some alphas, he isn't embarrassed to affirm that he indeed listens very well to his omega. he, who is supposed to be all big and intimidating, melts into a puddle whenever you call him over with a baby voice. god, he loves when you treat him so sweetly.

demeter also has a temper of her own and could become very fierce when angry. kakucho has that vibe as well, the feeling of a sleeping storm, awaiting the moment when someone will mess something up to burst.

he usually doesn't let his emotions control him, but when someone threatens him to steal you from him because he supposedly can't take care of you, he just explodes. kakucho will give anything he has and doesn't have for you, what right does a stranger have to quality him as competent enough or not ? although when his wrath has passed, he'll feel a bit self conscious and scared that some truth was hidden in his words. but if you do a great job at reassuring him and telling him how safe and giddy kakucho makes you feel, then he'll be fine as well.

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kissesforsatoru · 9 months

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GUARDIAN ANGEL | wc: 5k~

GUARDIAN ANGEL!HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

₊˚⌗ hobie was never supposed to get involved with you, yet you and him became irrevocably tied to one another.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, soft yandere!hobie, near death experiences, marking (not in the way you guys probably think), jealousy, possessive behavior if you squint, implied power dynamics, pet names (love, sweetheart), horribly written british accent, utterly smitten hobie, softie!reader, reader is smaller than hobie, but angels are big compared to humans so that's why (he’s like 6’5+ and he wears platforms), EVERYTHING ABOUT ANGELS IN THIS FIC IS ENTIRELY MADE UP.

notes : please bear in mind that i don't have a full grasp on hobie yet, so he is probably definitely a bit ooc; i did try my best though!! i’m also planning to put this on ao3 at some point, so if you see it pop up there it’s not plagiarized, it’s just me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing . . . fool for you by noita

it was never supposed to turn out like this. you and him were never supposed to happen.

you were only supposed to be 'just another human' to hobie like the rest of everyone else. he wasn't supposed to get involved or contact you directly; he wasn't supposed to get attached. you weren't supposed to get attached to him either. but you did, and he did too. so much that he’s entirely fucked. there’s no coming back from this for you or him.

it's not like this is any of hobie’s fault though, not when he’s known to not follow the rules and definitely not when you're the most precious human he has ever had the pleasure of being the guardian angel of.

he will admit that at first it was boring to watch you, but then it was fun.

you aren’t anything incredibly special. just a broke college student with very few friends who likes to stay home more than you like to go out. but following you around and laughing his ass off about all of the stupid little things you did when you thought nobody was watching, like talk to yourself or narrate your actions, hobie really enjoyed that. he got a nice kick out of whenever someone would catch you doing one of those things and you’d get all flustered, shy, and painfully awkward.

you're undeniably adorable, and so refreshing. it's nice being your guardian angel in comparison to being one for some grubby old bastard whose morality borders far past what's considered to be good. hobie hates those people, pigs they are, all of them. you aren’t anything like them. you're boring, yeah, but hobie still likes you better than any other human.

he sometimes pretended that you were talking to him whenever you spoke to yourself out loud, even though that couldn't have been possible. he would smirk and respond to you still with his dry humor and witty remarks because it was fun and it gave him a delightful little buzz.

he didn't know how, or when, it happened, but hobie then found himself melting whenever he was around you, and more, he didn't mind it.

hobie used to hate angels that fell for humans because they’re such fragile beings; you have to be careful with them, all gentle and soft—it's why they need guardian angel, otherwise, they would die out faster than any other species earth has ever known. and angels, despite what people may think, aren't gentle lovers. they're aggressive and intense by nature due to their power and status as "higher beings." humans are too weak to handle an angel's love; it would be too overwhelming for them to handle, so falling for one is pointless, and hobie always thought that the angels who did were stupid. but he gets it now.

he shouldn’t though.

guardian angels have very specific and strict rules that have to be followed meticulously for both the safety of humans and angels. of course, hobie has broken more than a few of these rules before and he’s also gotten plenty of lectures from miguel about it too—enough for hobie to have actually considered flying under the lunatics' radar by doing his job correctly, but hobie... he doesn't like to be pushed around and forced into a role. especially one as heavy as guardian angel. that's just not him, so he does what he wants.

but still, hobie has never seriously messed up before. he's only had a few slip ups here and there that aren't too reprimandable in comparison to other things. he's tried to be somewhat serious about his job, follow all the important rules and all that. that is until he fell for you.

hobie has broken many of the important rules for you, and the first one was even falling for you in the first place. you made him break that one so easily, almost too easy. the next rule hobie broke for you was communicating with you directly, revealing himself and really getting involved with you. but to be fair, that also wasn't his fault. he didn't have the intention of letting you see him that night, let alone talking to you; it just happened.

your friend gwen told you about guardian angels and how it was possible for you to manifest using the help of yours, and you were awfully excited about finding out if that was true or not. you asked him for a sign that he was there, that he was willing to help you. one thing led to another and suddenly you were nestled deeply into the corner of the wall on your bed, wide eyed and shivering as you stared at him standing across the room.

perhaps it was your over eagerness mixed with his half-developed love for you at the time that made him stupidly decide to give you a sign that he was real in the form of literally showing you that he was real, he doesn't know. either way he did show you himself, and it had shocked you, really (an understatement). it took many hours of him consoling you to get you to understand that he's not some psycho who broke into your home somehow, but your actual, real guardian angel, in the flesh.

you were practically all over him after that, asking him all sorts of questions and touching him just to see if that was even possible for you to do—and to know what it would feel like too. not that he minded anyway. hobie decided then that it was much better having you actually talk to him than it was pretending that you were. and your touch was so soft that hobie had actually faltered a little bit when you reached for his cheek, pressing your palm against his skin and keeping it there for as long as he would let you.

of all the places you could have touched him, of course you would choose an area that felt so unreasonably intimate, shaking him to his core. luckily you were far too enamored with the idea that he was a real angel for you to notice how much you’d set him off, how much you affect him.

after that he couldn't stay away from you. before he might have had a chance to snap himself out of his little love-sick puppy stupor, but having you aware of him, talking to him, touching him—it was all exhilarating; he loved it. and it would truly be unfair for anyone to expect him to pull away from you and never let anything like that happen again. that was never an option for hobie, so he just didn't. he won’t ever deny himself the pleasure of you.

the last, most recent rule that hobie broke for you, and the one that happens to be the most important of all, was interfering with your life. going against "fate," as miguel calls it. hobie always thought that it was bullshit since a guardian angels' job is to protect, but apparently, they aren’t allowed to prevent their assigned human's death, or cure their illnesses, or anything like that, even though they had the power to. he didn't understand it, but still, he never got attached enough to feel the need to go against that rule until he fell in love with you.

— ୨୧ —

he indulged himself little by little with you. first by allowing himself to enjoy being your guardian angel, then by falling in love with you and involving himself physically with you. and then he started allowing himself to steal your attention from anyone or anything other than him on days he felt oddly needy.

that term isn't something anyone who knew hobie would use to describe him, not even he would use it to describe himself, but with you he's always acted a little bit different. he came to accept it, told himself that it was the "y/n effect" and left it at that. being needy with you was something that hobie didn't really mind all that much; he embraced it, really.

hobie can at least get away with a little bit of harmless interference this way, by stealing your attention for himself. he didn't mind receiving another long, boring lecture about how he can’t keep breaking rules if it meant he got to spend his day with you holed up in your little apartment, just the two of you. you and him and nobody else.

he'd show up out of nowhere when you least expected him to, always, and tug on your arm, pull you into his body and coax you into staying with him. he'd tell you that going to work would be bad for you, leave you sick and groggy—you hate being sick and all groggy, and only a fool would think hobie wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

"you have to listen to your guardian angel, love," he would tell you, tilting his head to look down at your small frame, admiring the slight angry pout on your lips. "i know what's best for you, so stay, yeah?"

you always do listen to him. you trust him completely, after all, because you're such a naive human that could never ever think that hobie, your guardian angel, has bad intentions with you. and he doesn't, no, he's just a little bit selfish. no harm in that, right? 'course not.

hobie can go a little overboard with his selfishness whenever you have a date to go on though. he shouldn't be because you're a human and he's an angel and he could never have you for real, right? so he should let you have your little love story with your puny little human boy.

but hobie is going to be selfish regardless of the facts. regardless of some stupid rules.

he hates the idea of you being with some dumb human when you have him. he's perfect, he's an angel. he's strong enough to protect you, he has your best interest always in mind—it's his literal job—he can love you the way you deserve to be loved and more, he can care for you better than anyone else in the world because he knows you best and knows exactly what you need without ever having to tell him. no human can ever compare to him.

no human will ever be as cool as him either. hobie doesn't think any guy can top him when he's a punk angel—what could possibly be cooler than that? you said it yourself when the two of you first met.

"wow, i didn't think angels could look so... cool. hobie, you're amazing; what the hell!? how did someone like me get you as a guardian angel?”

who are you to be going on dates when you compliment him so sweetly like that. you obviously have an interest in him and all hobie needs to do is push you in the right direction, so he doesn't mind telling you any excuse he can come up with to get you to drop a guy, stupid and unreasonable or not.

"that guy just wants you for your body."

"that guy has a love already that he's not telling you about."

“that guy isn’t a good person, he’ll be a bad influence for you.”

"sweetheart, he's too ugly for you." he told you one time as an excuse, and you did not like that one.

"hobie! it's not about looks, it's about personality, and– and the heart!" you yelled at him, smacking his chest lightly as you pulled away from him and rushed your way down the hall towards your room.

"oh, s'at right? you like guys with ‘heart’?" he huffed a laugh as he followed behind you, leaning against your door frame when he got to your room. you turn around to glare at him, but he only smirks at your ruffled posture.

cute. cute.

"yes, actually! unlike you. i had no idea angels could be such assholes," you grit before turning back around to flop yourself face first into bed.

you always do that when you're upset with him, which isn't often at all, but it happens enough for hobie to pick up on the little habits you develop, and this is certainly one of them. you don't like looking at him 'cause he ‘does stuff to you,’ apparently. makes you unable to stay mad if you look at him too long, so you just choose not to.

he pushes off the wall and saunters towards you, pressing a knee into your bed as he reaches over to tug at your arm, urging for you to roll over, to look at him. "c'mon, you don't mean that, love." he smiles when you do eventually turn to look at him, and this time with a much less angry expression on your pretty face.

"no, i don't," you sigh defeatedly, "but you are pretty mean sometimes, hobes."

that nickname. he loves that nickname. he loves even more that you were the one who gave it to him.

he hums thoughtfully before responding, "not to you though, and tha's what matters, don't you think?" you roll your eyes at him, shifting so that you're flat on your back now as you look up at him. you don't say anything more, only stare up at him with your pretty eyes, all glossy and shining under the dim light in your room. big, and so fucking innocent.

god. fuck.

hobie crawls over you slowly, keeping his eyes steadily on you as he does. he brings a hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin gently as he settles himself above you, and then he reaches his thumb to press into your chin so that he can get a good grip on your face. to keep you from gettin' all shy on him, ‘cause he knows you will when you realize what he’s about to do to you.

his eyes flit down to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick across your bottom one, all sensual like—or maybe hobie is getting too worked up. yeah, probably that, but whatever.

you sigh shakily when hobie starts to lean down closer. you're so pliant, laying there nice and still for him even though you're feeling nervous right now. because you trust him; there isn't anything hobie could do that would make you not trust him.

hobie has to keep himself from absolutely devouring you when his lips press to yours. he has to remind himself to be soft, to not be too aggressive so he doesn't scare you too much, or hurt you either; the weak little whine you let out as he kisses you does nothing to help his self-control stay intact though. thankfully, you grab tightly at his leather vest and tug for him to come closer, inviting him to press further into you and kiss you deeper.

hobie balances himself up on his knees as the hand that was holding him up comes to knead at your waist and tummy, feeling and rubbing there as gently as he can right now in his worked-up state—which is just barely enough for him not to leave imposing bruises on your skin from how much stronger he is compared to you. you don't seem to mind how tightly he holds onto you though, because you're still eagerly kissing him back, making all sorts of pleased little noises that hobie is all too happy to swallow up.

hobie only pulls away when you start squirming under him, signaling that you need to breathe. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his body as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your delicious scent and placing little kisses on your neck as you pant softly.

"you don't need another man, you know that love?" he ask you, tells you, after a while of the two of you just laying together.

"yeah, i guess i don't," you reply to him, airy and quiet, right before you fall asleep tucked nicely into his arms. exactly where you belong.

— ୨୧ —

jessica stops hobie one night right as he's about to leave and go see you.

"if miguel finds out about this, you know he's going to be pissed, right?” she says, coming up behind him. “maybe you can get off on a wrist slap for breaking small, stupid rules, but falling in love with a human is something miguel absolutely will not allow, hobie."

hobie scoffs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at her. his emotions and feelings would be right on display for her if he did. she’d know well how much he fucked up, and that would be a hit to his pride. ‘specially since he always told her about his dislike for angels who fell for humans.

"what’s ’at got anything to do with me, mm?" he decides to respond out of courtesy, turning his head to look at her through his peripheral, "i'm not in love with any human."

hobie knows that jessica knows that's a lie. it's obvious he's in love with you because of how different he's acting. doing his job right and all that, to some degree at least. breaking the 'don't get in physical contact your human' and 'don't fall in love with your human' rules aside, he's properly keeping up with his status reports about you, he's not off doing other things when he's supposed to be with you. he's being the good proper guardian angel he should be, and that is definitely out of character for hobie. it was really only a matter of time before someone found out. hobie is just lucky it was jessica who put two and two together first instead of miguel. then he’d have a real big problem on his hands.

jessica sighs. "all the stuff miguel says about angels getting attached and falling for humans being dangerous is true, hobie, not just some control tactic to keep angels on a leash. it could cost your human their life, and you your job," she warns before leaving.

hobie always liked how not-pushy she is; it’s why he prefers her over miguel. but he thinks she's wrong, because he would never let you die. ever. he couldn’t care less about losing this shitty job though.

— ୨୧ —

the conversation with jess, as much as hobie hates to admit it, put a real damper on his mood.

he's agitated when he gets to your apartment, showing up right in your room where he knows that you are because he can feel you there. and once he is there, he eases up a little bit. all of his racing thoughts seem to disappear when you come into his vision so he can see you now, not just feel you. seeing and feeling you is nice; it grounds him.

you jolt when you see him suddenly appear behind you in the reflection of the mirror that you're sitting in front of though. a gentle gasp falls from between your pretty lips as you whirl around quickly to look at him, eyes widening like a doe caught in headlights. you ease up quickly, realizing that it's just him; you sigh the words under your breath as you deflate a little bit, coming down from the brief bit of adrenaline you must have felt with him scaring you like that.

goodness, aren't you just so delicate? it's a damn shame hobie's not supposed to go falling for a human, isn't it? a load of tosh that is.

he smirks, "sorry, love. didn't mean to scare you li' that,” he says easy, stepping forward until he's a few feet in front of you, looking down at you, looking up at him. your eyes are glimmering under the artificial light of the lamp settled next to the mirror. he thinks that even in such dodgy lighting, your eyes and soft expression are still utterly enrapturing. the soft, charming glow that the light provides to your features draws a pleased hum from hobie.

so pretty. you're so damn pretty.

"geez, hobes," you say, huffing as you look away from him and down at your lap, "you can't just keep randomly showing up like that; you may well give me a heart attack one of these days if you do." your laugh is music to his ears. airy, pitched, and sweet like the ripest peach. sweeter than the ripest peach.

an angel's voice is supposed to be the most beautiful sound, people say, but hobie disagrees. he would much rather listen to you talk or laugh all day long rather than ever have to hear another word uttered from his shitty coworkers' mouths.

"i would never let that happen to you," he says, tone shifting from playful to serious. hobie feels better that he’s with you now, but the bit jess said about you dying clings to him still. weasels it’s way into his thoughts and makes his stomach lurch. he’s buzzing, and not in the nice delightful kind of buzzing that you bring out of him, no. he just needs you right now.

he needs to feel you—really feel you, beyond the way he feels your life force tied to him, fluctuating with your emotions and physical state. he needs to actually touch you, hold you.

hobie gets down onto his knees in front of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up into his chest as he does. you whimper in surprise at the sudden proximity between you and him, your hands instinctively grabbing at his shoulder and jacket to steady yourself, even with how tightly he's holding you against him because his presence just overwhelms you too much. he always makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. you can never seem to function, not without his help. but that's normal between humans and angels. you aren't made to handle him, you aren't supposed to, but that's okay; he can be as gentle as you need him to be.

"look at me, love," hobie whispers, hooking a finger under your chin, nudging you to look at him. you squeak when your eyes meet his, no doubt incredibly flustered—he can feel that you are. can feel your pulse throbbing as heat rushes through your skin, radiating a dull warmth for him to sink into as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he smirks, huffing out a faint laugh as he looks down at you, admiring you.

"there you go, sweetheart," he praises you softly, brushing the pad of his thumb across the slight curve of your bottom lip. your eyes flutter closed briefly as you take a shaky breath, and then you open them again, watching him intently, and god does it make hobie feel all sorts of things.

"'m never gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his grip around your waist and holding you firmly against his chest with each word uttered, “you’re too precious for me to be careless with you like i am the rest of the shitty people in this shitty world. only you matter to me, yeah? just you and nobody fucking else.” he finishes quietly, dipping down to kiss lightly on your cheeks, one on each side, and then another on your forehead, drawn-out and lingering even after he pulls away.

you're practically melting in his hold by the time he does pull away, so pliable and warm, and you're looking at him with hooded eyes that you can barely keep open. delirious as you are, utterly suffocated by him, your grip on his shoulder and jacket is still relentless, unwavering, as if he would slip away from you if you loosened up the tiniest bit. you want him, need him, near to you as much as he wants you near, really. it's not just him with all of these intense, overwhelming and all-consuming emotions; it's you too.

“hobie,” you whine, nearly breathless, “can you– can we please kiss again? on the… the lips?” you plead, tugging at his jacket in desperation.

“anything for you, sweetheart,” hobie whispers, leaning forward until his mouth is hovering over yours, breathing you in slowly before he finally closes them together. he kisses you slow and tender, taking his time in savoring how delicious you taste. you sigh contentedly, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips for his tongue to delve inside of your mouth.

the hand he has wrapped around your waist slides across your body, feeling every dip and curve down to your thigh, where he grabs at gently, swinging it up to his hip as he pushes off the floor. your legs wrap around him instinctively to hold yourself up in his arms as he carries you across the room to your bed, his lips never once parting away from yours as he does. his other hand is holding your chin and jaw in place so that you can't pull away from him either, wanting as much contact with you at a time as he can get away with. he knows you wouldn't pull away from him so easily, but he likes controlling the kiss, likes it when you let him lead the way and guide your body with his.

hobie carefully sits down on the bed and leans back against the wall, settling you into his lap comfortably before his hand starts roaming all over your body; along your hips and over your thighs, squeezing the fat in his hands before moving back up and dipping under your shirt to feel at your tummy. you moan and whimper into the kiss, shivering under his touch when his hand grazes along especially sensitive areas of your body.

when hobie pulls away you're panting and dazed, humming mindlessly in pleasure as hobie starts pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. his teeth graze lightly along the sensitive flesh beneath your ear teasingly before his tongue dips out to lick delicately at the spot, making your body thrum and pulsate in delectation. he nips once at your skin before finally pulling away to look at you, to savor how much of a mess he was able to make you into with a heated kiss. and god do you look absolutely stunning like this. swollen lips parted as you breath out small puffs of air, hooded eyelids, and your clothes are entirely disheveled from where hobie had pushed them up and slid his hands under.

fuck, you’re lovely.

"you look a mess, sweetheart," he rasps fondly, running his fingertips lightly along your hips and thighs.

"'ts your fault," you mumble, falling into his chest and nuzzling your nose into his neck, exhaling softly as you close your eyes and relax. hobie wraps both of his arms around you and rubs your back gently, soothing you until you hum contentedly.

"yeah, i suppose it is, isn't it?" he agrees quietly, not wanting to disrupt your somnolence.

hobie lays with you in his arms for hours after that, listening intently to your steady heartbeat and soft, rhythmic breathing, every now and then feeling you shift with a cute disgruntled little huff whenever you've stayed in one position for too long. hobie loves your sleepy, content little sounds, loves the way your fingers curl around his vest; even in your sleep you're still clinging onto him, because you need him, and he loves it.

hobie loves you.

— ୨୧ —

hobie knows he's not supposed to interfere with fate. it's against the rules, or whatever bullshit excuse everyone says it is. hobie didn't really care that much about it before because he's never cared about anyone enough to ever want to change their fate, but now he has you, and you need him more than ever to keep you safe, to keep you from dying.

god, he doesn't know how it happened, but you were crying for him so desperately. curled on the floor, gasping for air and clutching onto life with weak claws, you were calling his name. it was like sensory overload, hearing every strewn-out letter of his name mixed in with your sobs, with the incessantly throbbing and pulsating of your life force weakening, slowly and agonizing.

the second you had been put in danger, hobie felt it. all throughout his body and deep within his soul, he felt you dying. there was a shift in the air at that moment, a suffocating, excruciatingly tense one that everyone around hobie had noticed; jess and miguel, and his best friend pavitr.

they all yelled and screamed at him that he couldn't go to you, lunging to stop him as he fumbled for the watch that would help him get to you the fastest, but the noise they made was dull and muffled in comparison to the way you cried for him. and god did it feel like he was getting stabbed through the heart mercilessly every time that you did. how dare they ever expect him to just listen to then when you were in so much fucking pain, all alone and the only one you wanted was him.

he had to save you. fuck the rules and fuck his shitty job; you were far more important to him than any of that. it didn’t matter to hobie that in order to save you he had to enchain his soul with yours, it didn't matter to him that he would share every bit of pain with you now, even your last breath if you ever took it, because hobie would rather give up his entire being to you than ever have to live without you.

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere imagines #yandere atsv #yandere spiderverse #yandere hobie #yandere hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown x y/n #soft yandere #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #gender neutral reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

Hi!

I just wanted to say that I absolutely love all of your COD fics! Your Price fics made me fall in love with him (I saw a recommendation for See No Evil on TikTok and just went down the rabbit hole from there (it’s also my comfort fic)) and Laughing Poets made me buy Ghosts for Keegan. Your writing is so beautiful and poetic and has inspired me to start writing again after a really bad writing’s block!

I also did want to put in a request for Ghost (because I love him so much) but given his hype, I understand if you don’t want to write for him or if it may be hard. But I was hoping that this hasn’t been done before (much) and that I could read it in your words since you are so amazing!

I was thinking of the reader being a CIA agent that was working undercover to get classified information and 141 was sent in to extract her after she was compromised. And her and Ghost don’t really get along at first, like they don’t hate each other but they could just care less about one another. But then they get separated and one of them is injured and the other fights tooth and nail to get to them, realizing how much they care. I was thinking that her callsign could be ‘Reaper’ but it can be anything else if it fits better. It can be angsty (because that’s the absolute best genre), fluffy, nsfw, whatever you want to do with it.

I know this is asking a bit much and I’m sorry for that. Feel free to change it as you see fit and do whatever you want with it, if you want to do it. I really appreciate and love your work!! Thank you!!

'Til it Hurts

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: This duology will be 18+ and contain the following: intense gore, blood, violence, vulgar language, angst, fluff, suggestive content, (smut, p in v sex, virgin!reader (relevant to plot) all in part 2), abuse of power in the past, toxic working environment in the past, copious flashbacks, soft!simon because I love him like that (I guess considered ooc), banter, etc...

A/N: Part 2 will be posted tomorrow after I edit it and the link will be added to this part as well for ease of access. But, anna, that's wild that people post about my work on tiktok, lmfao. I'm so glad I helped you out of that writer's block, though! Enjoy part 1, Love (I did change it around a bit)!

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

You often think of the friends you had when you were six. The neighborhood you grew up in was full of other kids your age, and there was practically a horde of young boys and girls outside at any given moment. Early mornings were ripe for adventures – ears perking up from your pillows at the sound of bird songs and lawnmowers like an instinctual call to cause mischief. Days would run long and nights would end late with games of tag.

It was inevitable, at this point in your life, to not think about where your friends would be now. Were they happy? Starting families and getting married on island resorts; white sand underfoot and a gentle lapping of ocean water? You’d lost contact a long, long, time ago – never bothered to get back in touch, though you know things might be better if you had.

God, you’d never have friends like that again.

Selfless. Genuine. Without competition or a need to stab each other in the back. Friendships built on a childlike innocence that was never meant to stay or grow with the brutal stretch of years. People mature. They harden, sharpen.

They break themselves to fit a mold of what they want to be without even realizing…Or maybe that was just how you grew up.

Your feet pound against the cobblestone streets of Bergamo, Italy, as you make your way through the packed road of the Upper Old District. Under your chin, your fingers go up to grasp the scarf around your neck and pull the thick navy fabric up farther. Fast eyes flicker over faces as a fake plastered smile splays over your lips, and your jaw holds a tension that seeps into your shoulders.

Keep the act up, you have to remind yourself, fingers heavy at your hips, don’t let the facade slip, or else it’s over before it begins.

At your sides, past the unending sea of loudly speaking humans and loyal animals alike, the broad expanse of ancient architecture calls to the history of this city; red-terracotta roofing, extravagant greenery, and pillars as tall as the buildings themselves. A picturesque land filled with mysteries lost to time, stories never told beyond the scratch of a pen and moth-eaten parchment.

A city now filled with killers.

“Sitrep,” you grunt into the open channel, the earpiece fizzling as it sits in the clutch of your canal. No one answers and, slipping past a family of tourists, you glare at the ground; heart going so fast you feel like it could jump-start a car. “Damnit!”

The seconds draw on and as you pick up the pace, now shoving your way through the crowd, you feel eyes on you. Slithering over your skin like oil.

Not good.

Shit. Karver, where did you go!?

Karver ‘Rigs’ Massarini was an informant – someone who’d been giving you everything that you needed to know about the cell in this area; along with a grouping of eyewitnesses to a stash of ICBMs. A stash that could do some serious damage if they stayed here with the wrong people. Intel suggests that those very missiles were going to be shipped off to Mexico in only a few days, smuggled across the border into United States territory with the intent of doing some pretty awful stuff and framing the US.

If you and Rigs weren’t quick with this, so many innocents would suffer.

You’d already gotten into contact with Mexican Special Forces yourself, warning Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra of a possible breach and to watch for any unregistered shipments on the docks or coming in from the air.

But now Rigs was missing, and you had a funny feeling you were being trailed.

Back alley. You take a quick right, boots slamming to the ground and heart hammering. Get away from the civvies in case someone decides to go trigger-happy.

This cell was known for being deadly, Mr. Massarini had sent the file over to CIA headquarters before you were shipped out; Laswell had set you on it right away without even taking the time to read it entirely.

“Extremely high Kinetic; I’m giving you full Execute Authority on this, Reaper. We’re running out of time. Find those missiles.”

Torture, kidnappings, mutilations, the list went on for this group and how far they would go to keep secrets. No one had gotten any clear insight as to what their motives were – just that they needed to be put down in exactly the ways they had been doing to others. Ruthlessly, before they grew bigger or spread their influence beyond borders, and created a group that could rival what Al-Qatala had been.

So that was where you came in.

God, you wished Farah and Alex were here with you – at the very least you could rely on them to help, even if you sectioned yourself off from others more than a dying cat. There was a reason you preferred being sent in alone with only your wits.

Mostly because of situations like this.

“Rigs, sitrep. Where are you,” you try again, the close walls shrouding in your shadows. Throwing looks over your shoulders, you take down deep breaths, a growl gradually digging itself a hole in your esophagus. Desperately, you say, “I’m heading back to the safe house ASAP. Wait for me there.”

Your right hand gravitates to your pocket, slipping through the fabric and pushing aside the ripped seam at the bottom. The sheath at your thigh pinches you with every step, but you’ve endured it for years, calluses breeding where the leather had chaffed the flesh to toughness. To an ingrained perfection. Flinching when your fingers bump against the handle, the metal adornments feel cool to the touch despite the sweat dripping down your spine; temperature and nerves leaving your palms sweaty.

None of this was going to plan.

You caress the small Dirk blade strapped to you, and when the first footsteps enter the alleyway behind you, your hand clenched into a loose fist around it. Your eyebrows pull tight with annoyance.

Taking a slow breath as the trailing stranger begins to move faster, you take a corner, halting the second you were out of sight. You nonchalantly turn on your heel and lean into the wall, feeling your body conform to the building and the stone dig into your back.

The material is cold, and as you raise your Dirk up, you flip the blade parallel to your forearm, wrist lax, and fingers still. A slow breath flows from your barely-parted lips.

3 seconds. You don’t blink, only gazing out across the space and noticing the dark shadow gaining ground. 2…1…

Your body jerks forward, free hand snapping out and grasping the fabric of a shirt. Twisting your hips, you plant your feet and wrench the stranger around the corner, breath coming out in a loud snarl. Without a shout, you have the person’s back shoved to the building in an instant, blade held above an Adam’s Apple.

A man, then.

“I’m going to give you one full minute.” Your Italian was only surface level – far better at understanding others than speaking full sentences. But you think whoever this man is comes to a conclusion well enough. “Before I cut you open and watch the life spill from your eyes.”

You don’t recognize this person, his sharp face or dark, sly, eyes, and with a quick assessment of his large stature you figure out he’s the basic definition of a man sent to complete a job. One that would have left you dead if you were anything less than a contracted CIA Agent on a job. You had been trained among the best from your time in the Marines – years on Special Ops forces; taking point. Even if they were the worst times of your life, you still learned a great deal from them, particularly, how to know when to cut your losses.

With one look into his smug face, you know that this stranger would tell you nothing.

Your lips formed a grimace, teeth flashing under flesh at the rod-straight form of the man under you. He was smirking with eyes seeming to be laughing at you. Arrogant. Self-assured.

“You’ll get nothing out of me, Reaper. We are already on your trail.” Your head tilts, a numb huff escaping your throat and pushing the individual's hair back as a breeze would. There was a small pause; tiny shiftings of your feet as your blade digs ever deeper.

A thin trail of blood falls from the placement, and your muscles writhe under the epidermis. There’s no thought behind the laugh that enters the air, that cold, dark, thing that’s more of a bark from a hellhound. It was just a realization that no matter where you went, there could never be anything unique anymore. Everyone was always the same.

“You’ll never get it out of me-”

“Break my bones; rip my flesh, you will never make me talk-”

“If you want to see me beg, you’ll be disappointed-”

There were countless memories you could bring to the precipice of your mind and re-live; moments ingrained into your psyche like a tattoo is to skin. So you can only smile and nod, scarf swishing around your neck. The man looks confused now, if not slightly nervous. That self-assured attitude leaking to the ground. Eyes as dark as obsidian beginning to snap back and forth – looking for a saving grace in the make-up of ancient stone that wasn’t going to come.

You wondered how many people had died in this city throughout history. The stories lost to time. Have these alleys seen war? Famine?

Have they seen murder?

But you are a woman of your word. A minute passes in tense silence, your eyes never leaving his own and ears carefully in tune, twitching like an antenna, to the joyous shouts and laughter just a street over. Here you wait like a rat in a trap, though you like to believe yourself more of the metal Hammer than the unknowing participant in a dance of death and wits.

You tighten your grip on your Dirk, shrugging up at the man. Your face is nonchalant as an understanding smile grows. As simple as a server at a restaurant.

“I believe you.” And you run the knife’s edge across his flesh like a match to a striker before he can scream.

Stepping back, you’re suddenly thankful for the scarf over your sweat-slick neck because as the spray of blood splatters over your nose bridge and forehead, you swipe it away with one of the ends of the thick fabric. You let the body drop, watching large hands snap to the gushing wound like that alone would stop the cold grip of death.

Your mark has been met.

The External Carotid Artery was easy enough to cut, though you had to dig deep for it, and it seemed the man had moved mid-slice. Frowning while the man gasps and gurgles; flails as a fish would, you study your work as you flick the blade clear of blood. Your brows furrow.

“Nicked the Thyroid Cartilage, hm.” Sighing and shaking your head, you sheathe the Dirk and twist on your feet, still intent on making your way back to the hotel safe house and trying to find a lead on Rigs. The slumping of a body reverberates a moment later, a grandiose death rattle, and still, only a street over you hear animated conversations – the bustle of traveling feet, and the sound of the breeze.

You often think about the friends you had when you were six. But, now, instead of being the one who fought off the monsters at the ends of the beds, you had become it. The monster. The boogeyman.

The Reaper.

Oh, what would they think of you now?

You swipe at the blood along your fingertips, seeing the red bleed under your nails with such a numb feeling that it scares you more than anything. Taking down a gathering of saliva that feels more like a slug in your throat, you wonder when you lost the ability to value human life. Of course, the answer was slated in those early years in Special Ops, but you don’t dwell on those times.

In fact, it was better if you never thought of them at all.

Taking a left, you hum a tune under your breath and listen to the birds sing as the blood dries.

—

The meeting room wasn’t even a room, just a vacant air-craft hangar that had been fitted out with two rows of metal fold-out chairs and a projector. Shadows danced over the floor, long streaks of darkness over concrete.

“...I’ll be giving you full Execute Authority – but this mission is completely Black. Host weapons only. No Evac team.” Laswell’s voice echoes off the ceiling, and Ghost’s eyes flow over the projected intel, memorizing the faces and locations with nothing more than a blink of his blue eyes. Fluttering eyelashes caress the hard material of his mask before settling.

Task Force 141 was being sent off on another deployment again, deep into Belarus and near the Russian border.

“Time frame?” The Captain asks, standing a small distance away and leaning against a crate of ammunition. His arms are crossed; jaw is loosely set.

Kate looks at him, above the heads of Gaz and Soap, and nods her head before she comments, “one week.”

Gaz huffs from ahead of the hulking form of Ghost, and the silent man shifts his attention back to the group.

“One week, Kate? No offense, but we don’t even know if the bastard’s in Belarus.”

“‘fraid to get dirty there, Garrick? Ah, we’re good enough for it.” Soap elbows the male at his side, and the masked man releases a puff of breath one row back. The Scot twists in his seat, mohawk tendrils falling over his forehead, and smirks. “C’mon Lt. back me up here. We’ve got this in the bag already.”

“Bit confident, Johnny?” Ghost grunts out, accented voice low and muffled from under the black fabric over his lips. His hips shift over the chair, legs splayed and arms crossed as he reclines back; letting the bulk of his gear weigh heavy. “Just wait until you’ve got us sitting on a pile of dry leads and rotting corpses.”

“Eh, nothin’ we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Focus, you three.” Kate interrupts as Gaz rolls his eyes to himself, fixing his ball cap over his head with a fast flick of his wrist at the antics of the other two. “You’re going to be shipped out at 2000–”

An easily recognizable ringtone starts to play.

Blinking in surprise, Laswell takes a glance at the table that had been long forgotten and spies her phone buzzing over the metal. Her light brown hair, kept securely tied back, swished at the nape of her neck. She wastes no time.

Briskly walking over, the rest of the men in the room watched intently, heads perked up. Ghost couldn’t stop the pique of interest at the strange behavior, though his form remains still, only making a noise under his breath in contemplation. In the hold of his crossed arms, his fingers tighten.

“Not the person I’d imagine keeps her phone on for just anyone…” Gaz makes a slow comment, and John slides up beside him, hands hooking onto the sides of his combat vest. Watching.

“Hm,” their command affirms.

Kate picks up her phone and immediately answers, brows furrowed. She shifts her weight as an inhalation reverberates. The conversation on the other side was too muffled, a small droaning the only signal that someone was on the opposite.

Unconsciously, Ghost straightens in his chair as the rolled-back sleeves of his undershirt leave his black ink tattoos on display. A deep intrigue spilled in his chest but otherwise, he was still focused on the previous instructions for the next Op. This was just another cog in the wheel, perhaps a location change for their safe house, or an accelerated timeline. No matter, they would get it done regardless–

“Reaper?” Laswell speaks, and blue eyes slide to stare at the Captain, whose legs had tensed. “What’s happened–”

The Lieutenant knows something was wrong just by the simple fact that he’d never seen their Station Chief talk on her personal phone with that look on her face before – he’d seen it mirrored on the Captain and he’d clocked it from her just as simply. The wrinkled skin at the side of her eyes, and stiff-set lips peeled back in a frown. She’d always been serious, but the air was different.

Reaper? He runs through the database of his mind and ignores Gaz’s and Johnny’s muttered words and glances.

“Now who do you think that is, then?” Soap grunts out. Ghost doesn’t answer.

Brows furrow.

Sounds familiar, the man can’t help but admit.

“Patch me through. Now.” Kate slips to the computer a few steps away and opens a fresh tab, sorting through files and months of intel as if it mattered just as much as a bug under her heel.

“Kate?” Price prompts. The woman only holds up a finger and keeps the phone in between her shoulder and cheek, hands fast across the keys.

Soon enough, a feed pops up on the projector, and the three previously sitting all rise to their feet in an instant.

An open wound is in the process of being stitched and displays itself over the entire available space, violent red internal flesh puckering over the edges of…Ghost narrows his eyes, unphased.

Was that a fabric needle and thread being used for sutures? Resourceful, he admits.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” The manchester man levels thought the blandness of the tone contradicts itself. “Where’s this feed from, Laswell?”

“What the fuck…?” Soap growls out, and the Scot blinks at the screen in shock as the Brit beside him lets off a sound of disgust akin to a sick cat.

“Reaper, sitrep.” Kate doesn’t flinch, rushing off into procedure as steady hands delve back into flesh, blood falling from their fingers like water to splatter to a rundown wooden table. The world-away computer was most likely getting a rain of crimson all over the keys at this rate.

Price grunts under his breath.

“Shit,” a distinctly feminine voice wafts out, a harsh sigh held back, though the annoyed tone was noticed immediately, “can’t a girl stitch herself up in peace? Besides, Watcher-1 answer me this, huh?” The computer is jerked, its screen going staticky as Ghost watches with roving eyes to take in the background when the visibility returns. A bed, nightstand, and sitting by the floor of the front door, copious amounts of weapons. The man takes stock – an M13 assault rifle, X12 handgun, and Arctic .50 sniper rifle. Ammunition lines the floor in a way that leaves Ghost’s lips thinning under the mask.

Someone’s in a hurry. But from what?

“…what goddamn hotel doesn’t have mirrors in it?” Kate’s sigh can be heard a mile away. “No, I’m being serious here, Watcher – how the hell does that happen?”

Watching you take a step back, Ghost as well as the other three all blink in surprise when you come into view. Your top was off, only a sports bra covering your flesh, as your focus stays on the digging needle you send into yourself over and over.

Yet again a feeling of intense familiarity strikes the Brit in the chest. Your soft face, your hair, your voice. It was infuriating.

Who are you? The inability to call forth a memory leaves the fists at his sides gradually clenching under his gloves.

“Reaper.” Seriousness grows in the Agent’s voice, and Price lets out a slow chuckle that leaves Gaz turning to him in confusion.

“Sir?” But the inquiry is ignored.

“Still as stubborn as ever, then, Reap?” Everyone sees your hurried stitches stop, head snapping up as they clock a veiled panic behind the iris’.

Your eyes tell all the story they need, and Ghost’s body freezes as the color evokes a physical twitching of his hand.

“Holy hell,” he utters under his breath so silently no one even realizes he spoke; eyelids pulling back before settling like nothing had even happened.

“You know, you're the first person who’s been nice to me out here.”

“...Then I’d tell you to get better friends, Sergeant. I’m not sticking around.”

“I never said they were my friends, Ghost, and I never expected you to stay, anyways. That’s not how this works.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Bravo-06?” You ask, voice sometimes cutting out over the line. A laugh breaks out, and a small smirk twitches the corners of your lips, “Hey, Old Man, how’s it going over there? Been a while.”

“What have you got yourself into now?” Price asks, chuckling under his breath with a groaned continuation, “and how do you need me to get you out of it?”

The spectral man now watches with a newfound fervency, blue eyes boiling so violently that if anyone had seen, they would have thought he was about to attack. Like a split second of eye contact with a wolf before it rushes. The build of his shoulders was still loose, however, and the only indication of shock was his optics; the mask shrouded all.

But there was a subtle movement of his hips, feet transferring over the floor to stand shoulder-length apart.

“Oh, this,” you point to your injury with a free finger, tying off a knot on the last line of sutures. “Nah, it’s nothing. A couple of assholes tried to get the jump on me a block back, one had a knife on ‘em.” Your hand tosses the needle and thread to the table, a muttered, thunk, sounding off. Looking down at your work with a raised brow, everyone watches. “Took care of it – they gave me a name, too, but with the trail of bodies I left today, I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t pan out.”

A pause before you turn your head back up, face now completely serious as you focus on Laswell.

“But we have a bigger problem, Watcher. Rigs is gone; I think my position’s compromised. I’m going black.” Your form leans to the side, and a wrinkled t-shirt is thrown over your head. From your mouth, a stifled groan releases. Ghost blinks in surprise.

The Captain’s lips thin, and he looks at a tight-wound Kate.

“I have a contact in the lower levels, Reaper, meet up with her and she can have you out of the city by tonight. I’ll send over her info.”

“No can do, Watcher.” You sigh, and Ghost simply stares, following your figure as you back up, heading to the X12 and shimmying it into the back of your pants before looking over your shoulder. Kate hums under her breath. “If they’ve got Rigs,” Walking quickly back over to the computer, one of your hands grasps the top of the frame, thumb poking out from the corner. You tilt your head. “I ain't leaving without him right behind me. I’ll be in contact in a month – if I’m not, then I’m dead already.”

Your chuckle strikes a cord through the room and Soap snorts in answer.

“Glass-half-empty kind of person, then?”

“I’d say,” Gaz mutters.

Continuing, you’re about to say something else – lips already partially parted and breath sucked in – before your eyes lock onto Ghost. The atmosphere of the room flips like the page of a book.

You stare at him with what seems to be a million emotions flying past the glossiness of your optics; lids already peeled back and whites showing in a display that showed more than told. The man could only begin to imagine what you were thinking – how long had it been since he’d seen you last? You’d obviously gotten out of your Marines Special Ops unit.

Not quite how I remember you. It wasn’t hard to recall that small branch of the MRR – Marine Raider Regiment – and how they treated you. But that wasn’t any of his business. He’d been there to do a job, and he’d accomplished it. Quite thoroughly, if anyone would have checked the file after it was all over.

Ghost’s life was counted in the sands of an hourglass, small, molecular, bits hitting the bottom one after the other; rarely was that time wasted on pointless squabbles and words but at that moment, he was conflicted.

The Brit had never expected to see you again, and the sand briefly halted when you spoke. Hm.

Yes, he remembered that voice… he’d just never heard you this confident before.

“Ghost.” He watches the emotions on your face settle, and he was thankful for the mask covering his visage because he knows he would have left at least a small twitch of his lips slip. “Long time no see.”

“Mutt.” The Lieutenant nods in a monotone greeting but notices a slight jerk of your shoulders at the name. His eyebrows furrow, but mentions nothing as his pulse slows.

Your neck moves as you swallow, looking to the side as a dark curiosity fills the space in Ghost’s lungs; head nanoscopically tilting to the side like a vulture.

“Nice seeing you, Bravo-06,” You tilt your head toward the Captain before clearing your throat and addressing Laswell. “I’ll be around.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that the title had made you freak, a kind of bad cloud suddenly springing to life above your head.

Seems to bother her more than being in a Hot Zone, Ghost tells himself, the deep well of dark water in his gut still. That didn’t make any sense. He watches your hand slaps over the computer and the feed goes dark in an instant.

The room is more silent than Ghost is.

“Kate, she’ll need our help.” Price shakes his head from side to side; body moving to the front of the room. “I’m not asking.”

The two talk it over as Ghost’s mind trails, head tilting down more towards his chest as his eyelids narrow.

“Hm,” He grunts, arms tensing as his grip shifts. Soap turns around as Gaz goes to join the conversation between the Captain and the agent.

“What? Know ‘er or something, Lt?” The Scot asks, slapping a hand on the taller man’s arm. Ghost eyes lock on the grip before he blinks, looking back up and leveling the Sergeant with a dead stare. Johnny laughs awkwardly and moves his limb back to his side. “Just…didn’t peg you for the type to start relationships.”

The Lieutenant turns down the aisle of chairs and lets out a bland, “negative. Leave it, Sergeant.”

Why did you react badly to the namesake you’d gone by for the entire time you’d been in Special Ops? Mutt was when everyone had called you when he had been around for that short time.

He felt no great concern for you – no hatred or care – you were just another Agent that would probably end up dead like everyone else. Another time, maybe, he’d have gone in a heartbeat, and if the team decided to go after you, he’d follow. A mission was a mission, it wasn’t like it largely mattered.

But there was something in the back of his mind. Intrigue? Yes, perhaps. The blue-eyed Lieutenant wasn’t one to dwell on these types of things, but a colleague was still a colleague.

Whatever the outcome, he’d do his job with all the ruthlessness and tact he always did.

Ghost’s hand goes up to fix the position of his mask and glances at the blank projector stream, eyes boring into it as they darken. A moment later, he was leaning against the ammunition crate that Price had previously been on, arms crossed and ears twitching at the ongoing battle of wills; isolated to himself as his intimidating form towers ever upwards. Spine straight. Bones stiff. Eyes grim.

You’d been nice to him – a person that, for the limited time he’d interacted with, had left an impression that was only just starting to come back full force. Smart and resourceful; not too bad on the eyes.

He takes down a sigh. Stubborn…but undoubtedly loyal.

His thumb brushes your cheek, and you look up at him as if he wasn’t the one in a mask – as if his entire being was laid bare before you. He swipes away the trail of blood with one firm press. The gentleness of your skin is known even through his glove.

“You’ll live, Sergeant.” He utters, teasing in his monotone voice, “now, where the hell are we goin’? Gun’s itchin’ to lay a few out.”

Ghost would have smirked at the way your eyes dilated if he had the ability, but in the end, he brushes past. Because if he hadn’t, you would have seen his own do the same.

‘Reaper,’ he frowns, feeling the ammunition crate dig further into his hip, they never called you that one.

Perhaps the real battle of wills was happening inside of him – not five feet away between his Captain and his Station Chief.

—

You remember every interaction like it was yesterday, and although he might not, you can’t help the memories from flooding as you gather your gear. Stuffing guns into duffel bags and intel into crossbody sacks that weigh you down like boulders.

Fuck, you open the back window and shimmy out into the back streets, knowing that your position is compromised and not waiting any longer to test your luck. Your side burns something awful; horrible stitches peeling back skin as you groan in pain. What the fuck was Ghost doing with Price? I didn’t know they knew each other. And the two other men in the room…eh. Not the problem right now!

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you pant, swinging your legs out of the window frame and sharply inhaling when a suture tears. “I’m never in the loop.”

In all honesty, you don’t want to be – too complicated. It’s better to just stick around and be told what to do.

Glaring down at the ground with glazed eyes, you only take a breath of hesitation and let off a curse before dropping.

Your knees take the brunt of the force, and the ricochets of landing on cobblestones travel up your ankles and leave your legs shaking. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you would have come up with a dirty joke to mutter to yourself.

The discomfort can only last so long, you tell yourself, and ignore the spreading liquid on your side, only thinking of Rigs and the mission.

And Ghost.

Gritting your teeth, eyes vulnerable, you turn down the backroad and stay away from others, drowning in memories more deadly than blood. It had been a while since you had thought of it – the lockbox in the back of your mind keeping all under tight watch; guard dogs with metal teeth and chained necks.

But that title; that namesake you’d scrubbed your skin raw over. Mutt and all the others said in cruel breaths. Oh…but Mutt.

Mutt was the worst of them.

Your hands were vibrating, the tremors traveling up your wrists and arms – past elbows and bruised flesh under skin; bloodied nose and quivering lips. Why did they always yell at you? But worse, why did they always make you do the dirty work?

The Captain, everyone just called him Alke, was standing in front of you, berating your accuracy on the last round of target practice. Fortunately, this deep into the Unit itself, you’d found a way to let it go in one ear and out the next, eyes as blank as a starless sky.

You could see the spittle flying from the man’s lips and some even splashes across your cheeks like acid, but there was something artful to the way you didn't react. A culmination of crafted numbness that bleeds like trauma. It was a constant, everlasting, void.

What they were making you into was not what you wanted, but what possible other option was there? Resign? No, this was nearly an unimaginable position to be in at such an age. You deserve to be here. Should you report the blatant unprofessionalism and favoritism in the ranks? And be blacklisted by these people's friends so that you never ascend the line?

Your ears twitch.

“...You’re not sleeping until your marks are perfect – else we’re overthinking your position in this Unit. Can’t have a Mutt in our ranks, can we?” The last sentence is punctuated with a ruffling of your hair almost like a brother would; teasing, but you know that isn’t what it symbolizes. Harsh laughs and mocking remarks from the bystanders. “Least of all one that’s gonna get us killed. Tch.” When you don’t answer, staring off in a daze at his nose in a perfect image of formation, the Captain raises an eyebrow. “Affirmative,” he smirks, “Mutt?”

“Sir!” Your mouth shouts, though the action is more instinctual as your back straightens. He frowns at that, perhaps wanting to torment you more, but huffs and files out, ordering the rest to follow with one last call.

“I expect you to be up for morning drills an hour early. I’ll be checking your shots myself.”

“Sir!”

After everyone’s gone, you blink back to reality. There’s a second of confusion, creases forming in your forehead at the sound of birds and blowing glass. Head turning side to side, your lips thin at the absence of others as if only realizing how spaced out you’d actually been.

Flashing teeth and heated eyes flash through your mind before you blink them away. Signing away the tense nature of your chest, you clear your throat and relax your legs. Your vision slides to the corners of the concrete dugout, snapping past sectioned-off areas for privacy to search if there was someone who might have stayed back.

Not finding anyone, your hands, clenched behind your back, loosen and fall limp to your sides like bags of rock. One weakly goes to swipe at the trail of blood from your nose, wrecking your already wrinkled sleeve with crimson; but soon an identical trail drips off your chin regardless. Licking your lips and tasting copper, you take a shaky breath and nod to yourself.

You knew what shooting all night would bring on – lesions under the firing pad covering your shoulder; deep-rooted pain leading to nerve damage later on. Blisters that leak puss and blood onto your bedsheets. Not to mention the mental strain, the bags under your eyes burn from lack of rest.

Gritting your teeth, you walk over the tossed rifle on the floor and pick it up with shaky fingers, the tips flinching back from the cool metal before encompassing it tightly.

Silently, you get on your stomach and set the weapon in the crook of your already pain-laced shoulder. Your blood splatters the stock.

—

It had been two weeks with no luck in finding Rigs, and you were starting to get paranoid.

Staring at the dead body tied to the wooden chair, you growl and tear your Dirk from the woman’s chest angrily.

There had been increased police patrols from all the corpses you were leaving, so you’d compromised and limited the chance of being caught at the same time.

Bergamo, Italy, was an ancient place, and the underground was what you were now both metaphorically, and physically, exploiting. Sewer systems. Catacombs. You’d lost track of the paths you’d taken a million times over, and had started to hate the constant darkness only kept back by the small hand lamp you’d stolen.

But there were ups to this constant downward slope.

It made interrogations increasingly easier to pull off with multiple feet of stone all around you. The screams don’t meet the surface.

“Catello Tullio,” you mutter, caressing your sensitive side with your free hand and placing your blade on a turned-over piece of rock. The area reeks of blood and gore, a stack of bodies chucked carelessly in the corner beginning to reek something awful; even as you have another to add to the count. It wouldn’t be long before the rats came in droves.

Another given name, another score. But this one was new. Apparently, the title of the one that took Rigs while he was out getting more rations in the market.

You point a finger at the slumped body, “you better hope I don’t find you in hell if you gave me the wrong damn name.”

Grabbing your light, you stalk off down one side of the tunnel back to your camp, dodging drag lines that strike your eyes with their crimson streaks.

The raggedy blanket and gun-sack you’d been using for a pillow take form in the dark, and somewhere in the corridor a rat squeals; feet pitter-pattering until it disappears altogether. You didn’t even want to think of the spiders living down here. Files and notes are strewn along the floor, perfect hiding places for eight-legged monsters.

You couldn’t do anything until nightfall. It was just too risky.

Massaging your side as you bend down, you grimace at the partially healed wound and scoop up your pistol before plopping to the ground with a grunt. With the deadly object held in your lap, you take a moment to breathe and try to push away a growing headache in the back of your skull.

“This has to be one of the worst Ops on record, huh?” your small voice speaks back to you in bouncing waves of echoes as you begin to fiddle over the gun's small grooves and dents. “How did you manage this, Reap?”

Smiling blandly, the overwhelming quiet and nothingness all around you is like a curse. And in those pockets of a void, your mind always trails to him – or at least it had been for your time on the run. Ghost. That dark and brooding mass of horribly bleak humor and…well…you couldn’t call him mean.

Your eyebrows furrow.

He was never mean to me.

There were soft instances where you would question yourself as to if the Brit had possibly had some affection for you. It wasn’t a long shared history of course, but you had sworn that there was something about the way he looked at you…something that you remember so vividly…

You shake your head and stand after a small while, stretching your feet. Placing your pistol in the back of your belt, the weight brings you dull comfort.

Shining your light on the hand-held radio on the ground in passing, you rove back to it after you scan the perimeter. Its black metal mocks you.

No one’s coming to help ‘cept you. One voice says, and another grunts out, get it together, Mutt.

You turn on your heel to go and take a breather to disperse your dark thoughts but only make it three steps before your eyes widen, lips parting in awe. Nearly falling flat over yourself, you whirl around in an instant.

A static enters the air as if the gods above were laughing at you - toying with your fate like it was a rock tossed to the sky. The familiar British drawl causes your chest to tighten, though the sentence is broken and barely understandable.

Someone’s here for me! A smile slashes your face – fierce hope lighting your eyes. You hadn’t wanted anyone to explicitly come for you, but this was a welcome discovery. Someone to talk to!

“--eper…Copy?” Darting like a cat, you move so fast that you stumble over rocks on the way there. “Lead…cafe…red cloth…Out.”

By the time you snatch the small black object, the garbled and firm tone has already shut itself up. Your mouth parts.

“Shit!” You yell, shaking the thing in your hand with an iron grip, hissing like a snake. You look above you at the cracked ceiling of stone and a growled accusation.“I’m too deep…Fuck. Gotta get up there if I want to be able to respond.”

But it hadn’t all been fruitless. Lead. Cafe. Red cloth. You clip the radio to your belt and make sure your shirt covers your weapon; pat your thigh and tell yourself to stop forgetting your Dirk everywhere before setting off in a jog. The light flashes over dead eyes and stiff bodies.

You snatch the blade off of the stone as you pass it, slipping it into your cut pocket and hearing the satisfying clink of it sheathing.

“Let’s just hope I don’t smell too bad…” You say aloud, chuckling, and listening as the sound echoes off the stone. If no other company, you still had the sound of your own voice.

You couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. But, you were getting side-tracked.

A Cafe with red cloth, then. Not exactly the place you’d go for an intel swap, but if someone had been trying to contact you for more than a week, you’d imagine they were getting desperate at this point.

If I had known…you frown.

Thinking over the multiple blueprints and pictures of the city in your files, you go through your internal cabinet of knowledge for color schemes - not what you’d have thought you’d be using it for, but, oh well. A lead was a lead.

“Golositá!” You laugh, sudden glee on your face as you dodge a pile of large stones; lips peeling back as you take a fast corner. “Gluttony! Of course, that’s the place.”

The bustling business on the upper side of Bergamo with red table cloths as well as red awnings extending into the street. Anyone would be a fool to miss it.

Like blood lining the street.

You force yourself to run faster.

—

You met him last, despite being a Sergeant. The Captain had you up late last night yet again – running the forest trail this time rather than shooting. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it surprised him when you were still up early with the others; from the looks that he was giving you, you just decided that, yes, he was. Or he was just pissed he didn’t have an excuse to get rid of you.

Blinking away fatigue, you keep your stance relaxed as a gargantuan shadow comes to loom ahead of you.

The man everyone had whispered about called himself ‘Ghost’ and, if nothing more, was certainly intimidating. Shoulders wider than a bench, arms as rounded and as strong as boulders; not to mention the tattoos that made him look like he took cross-country motorcycle rides in his spare time. Tan tactical gear and dark patches for the SAS, the red and white British flag. Gloves covered his large hands, straps carried knives on his biceps and thigh. Something akin to a tan cape that was loose around his hidden neck.

But the mask was what really caught your attention; your head tilting with an innocence that no longer lives in you.

Skeletal. Half a visage of a dead and gone intimidation of humanity. Sewn into a hood of black cloth from which only the eye sockets were open…But the eyes there were no different than if the holes had been empty in the first place; as if the person inside was as dead as sun-bleached bone. Was a corpse piloting this suit?

Ice blue. Freezing blue. Harsh. Colder than a grip of a phantom, you thought as you blinked up at him, colder than the nights you would stay awake working yourself to death. You watched this Ghost’s chest move in a steady inhalation and you stuck out a busted-knuckle hand. Foolish, maybe, but there were worse things to be afraid of than a mask. Then of those eyes that made your spine shiver.

But you didn’t look away.

“Pleasure, Sir.” There was a moment of tense silence where your Captain, at Ghost’s side, was frowning at you silently. The man could say nothing as long as this SAS member was here to assist in your next Op overseas. At your sides, your colleagues on the tarmac shuffle on their feet like nervous penguins.

Ghost glances at your hand, and you try not to show how fast your pulse is running when his eyes leave a cold trail as they grace your split knuckles and torn nails. He ends with a slow look at your name patch.

“Sergeant.” He says and slips past without another word. His shoulder brushes against yours, and you inhale smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. Snickers bounce off air particles, striking your ears as an embarrassed heat rises to your cheeks, but that scent stays in your nostrils for days.

Your Captain scurries after.

“Erm, forgive, Mutt. She’s a helluva strange woman, that one.” You keep your sneer hidden, a hiss lodged in your throat and a twitching finger. But your anger isn’t directed at the masked beast that stalks away. That yapping bully of a Captain would hold all of it as long as you were here.

At that point, you were sure you’d seen the last of Ghost until the Op – not really getting the feeling he’s a people person so much as a ‘give orders and follow them’ type.

But that was fine by you, it didn’t change anything. You’d been told to go back to the firing range tonight for opening your mouth and ‘making an embarrassment of the Unit’....whatever that meant. All you did was welcome the guy with the barest hint of a good attitude.

You supposed manners were a foreign concept around here.

The world ahead of you was blurring, red circles in your eyes that gloss over with water every minute you force yourself to stay awake. The stars were out, sky dark, and the area was only lit by large lights situated around the base. In some sort of strange way, you enjoyed the sound of crickets and the cold breeze over your bare arms as if the only sense of peace you got was when you were half-passed out, nailing shots from a rifle.

The stock was where it always is, your cheek pressed to the side; staring down the scope at the multiple holes in the paper targets. Dots surrounded by multiple other dots like a slice of cheese. You suppose that made you the hungry mouse in that case.

‘A mouse with a fucking day before she drops.’ You frown, blink, and pull the trigger as the trees rustle. The force lands directly on your shoulder – the kickback is usually not one to bother you, but seeing as your appendage was one bad day away from being dislocated and forever damaged – you took it with a grit of your teeth.

And you took it because you knew you could. Just as you knew that you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your neck. Freezing, you remove your finger from the trigger and loosen your grip. Turning your head to the side, a free hand goes up and shifts the ear mufflers from your head to your neck in a single movement.

You swear your heart jumps to your throat when you see a skeleton’s icy blues numbly watching you; arms crossed while a nice-looking SA-B 50 Marksman Rifle sits against the wall at his side. How…long had he been there? Watching?

“What’re you doing, Sergeant?” Ghost asks sternly, that Manchester accent making him sound harsh. Grating like a rock being run against concrete. “I’m sure your Captain wouldn’t be thrilled at a scene like this, eh?”

Blinking, you remind yourself to breathe before answering – voice tough and hoarse.

“I have my orders, Sir. You’re free to join me.”

You turn back as a grunted huff falls from behind muted cloth. Ghost walks up to your laying form, standing on your left side and picking up the binoculars from the hanging hook in your station. As you look back through your scope you don’t know why, but you hold your breath; waiting for something.

“...Not a bad shot. You’re prone to firing more to the right, judging from the grouping. I’d fix that, less you miss a moving target runnin’ the opposite.” He lowers the object - staring from the side of his eye. From your position, your neck cranes to see his fingers twitch. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” For someone you’d expected to be quite harsh – though you had no doubt he still was – Ghost was more sarcastic in his mannerisms.

Backhanded comments that wound sting if you got on the other end of them.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.” Shifting your grip, you move the stock farther up your shoulder, feeling an immediate release of tension, though the expansive trauma still leaves needles in your tissue.

“Hm, pay attention and you just might learn something.” You feel yourself quirk a lip for the first time in months; your mouth doesn’t stop to think.

“You mentor a lot of people in the middle of the night, then?”

“Only the ones stupid enough to be awake.” He takes a step back, going to grab his own rifle as his footsteps don’t even make a sound.

‘Quiet for a guy with thighs that could choke me out.’

Your brows furrow at the heated thought, taking a slow breath and flexing your hands as the shadow disappears from over you. Why were your hands sweaty?

Were you…afraid? That…that wasn’t it.

“You’re up too, you know, Sir. Bit hypocritical.” This was the first time you’d had a full conversation with someone since you’d gotten in with this Unit. A mildly pleasant one, at least…you wouldn't really call this bonding.

“I can always leave ya’ to it, Sergeant.” Deadpanning the words, you clear your throat and fall silent at the threat.

‘No,’ you wanted to comment, ‘no, I want the company so badly it hurts.’

You swallow saliva and reposition your ear mufflers back over your head, heart bruising your ribs, as you bring down a calming breath of air to still your nerves.

The two of you don’t speak again, and you don’t ask why he takes the shooting cubby right next to yours, the nose of his rifle peeking out from the concrete wall. You certainly don’t ask why he’s up, either.

And in return, he doesn’t ask you the same.

—

When you find Golositá you’ve managed to sneak through the city unseen, taking every backroad and alley you could as the heat of the day increases to near sweltering. Panting, you stick to the thin shadows of the path across the street, eyes dancing over red cloth and flicking to faces; studying visages as one would a medical report.

Your chest hurts, and you run a hand over your side, feeling the raised skin under your shirt before digging into the aching ribs. All this running around and little food to help keep your normal strength was troublesome, and it would only get worse if this Op from hell continued.

I need new intel. Badly.

About to retreat, not finding anyone you recognize off the bat, a black-shrouded figure kisses the side of your vision as if a phantom.

On the outside table, the farthest removed, a man sits stiffly with an untouched teacup in front of him. Smirking, you can’t help but scoff at the thought of Ghost using the thing – you’d think his thumb and forefinger would break the delicate porcelain in an instant. Like a spine over his thigh.

Your cheeks heat.

He looked almost identical to what you remember – minus the gear, obviously – and your stomach twisted at the thought. Was a simple look enough to bring you to the breaking point? Why were your lungs tight?

As if feeling your stuck eyes, those icy blues shift from people-watching to lock onto yours immediately. As hollow as they always were, it seemed. He blinks and the blonde eyebrows on his sliver of visible forehead move.

Shit. Your hips trade weight. Look at you.

Loose shoulders under a rugged buttoned-down and painted balaclava make your breath go thin, not able to resist sneaking a glance at those tattoos you remember so vividly. Yes, that was still Ghost.

Jesus, is this how it felt to see someone you barely even remembered suddenly appear? Was it elation or caution that was making your heart race?

Ghost doesn’t look surprised. His eyes don’t widen; don’t soften or light up. They blankly watch you as you shake away the shock and raise a brow in return. A sarcastic finger goes to your head, and you mock salute.

What are you doing? You seem to ask, a mischievous expression growing as you start forward when he dismissively narrows his eyes. You look ridiculous. Are you asking to be spotted?

The man leans into the too-small chair he sits in, one hand going to hang off the back and the other resting on the tabletop. Gloved fingers tapping morse in slow measures.

Clear. Come here. He follows you with his gaze, head stationary, as you enter the flow of traffic, smiling at people at your sides and letting off polite greetings when you could. Steadily striding, you weave through groups and individuals like water, legs steady even as your ears pick up every little sound.

A comfortable middle point of visible excitement and strict business. Why were you so…happy?

When you approach Ghost’s table, you slip up beside him with a sly chuckle, pulling out the chair to his right. You, softy, lower yourself down into it, not turning to him but instead simply making sure no one had followed you with a quick scan. His heat only adds to the warmth of the day like a walk through damnation.

“Well, well, well,” you smile, addressing the SAS member with his shadow hanging over you once more; such a heavy thing, though you don’t mind. Your expression mellows to have it above you again. There was a safety to it, you had to admit. The cold comfort of death. “Trip to Italy, Sir? Take a little vacation?”

“Came to bail out a bird from my past,” You smell that scent again – smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. “And if I ever went on a vacation, I sure as hell wouldn’t pick this place. ‘Bout to burst into flames; traumatize a few kids and their mums.”

Hadn’t he changed even a little bit?

“Now that’s dark.”

“Never said it wasn’t.”

Of course he hasn’t, you answer your own question, feet shifting and skin pliable, why would he? He isn’t like me – didn’t have to reinvent himself based on atoms and in the wake of silent nights.

There was a piece of you that believed that Ghost had always been this way, though you knew it was false. Nobody in this profession was just born like this, they were led to it. Whoever it was under the mask or balaclava didn’t matter anymore.

They had died a long time ago.

“Not a fan of the history, Brit?” You tease, bringing up a hand to itch at your undereye, finally taking a peak at the form that nearly swallows you.

Your lids try not to peel back, but you didn’t realize how close you’d sat next to Ghost – any closer and you would be in the crook of his arm; the relaxed spread of his knee bumping into yours and arm over the back of your seat. Trying to act nonchalant, you ignore the strange swirling in your gut with a hum and a twitching of your leg.

Stop that.

“Don’t care a smidge, just not a fan of the damn heat.” The gruff man responds with his inked arm on the table flexing, as though he was tenser than he showed. Ghost clears his throat, “needs a good downpour, eh?”

“Try living underground for two weeks. Literally. Sun’ll feel like a blessing.”

“Fuckin’ hell…That’s why the radio wasn’t working, then.” While this was all cute – re-learning each other like a shaken puzzle – there were dangers to being this open. The Brit would be fine, but if you got spotted, well, there would be worse things to worry about than an achy side and a pile of bodies in a tunnel.

“You got something for me, or are we here just to stand out like bullet holes in a forehead?” Feeling his head tilt to you, snaking down your form, your body leans forward, palms sweaty as they lock on the table. “Price with you? The other two I saw on the feed?”

“Negative. Op in Belarus. Sent me in alone.” Your knees brush, delicately; like a touch of down feathers. You refrain from taking in a shallow breath, knowing he’s analyzing every movement with a hidden mouth and gentle huffs of air that rises his sculpted chest. Through a grunted sigh, Ghost tells, “The Old Man insisted. Laswell thought you’d be alright by yourself, regardless,” and falls silent.

What was he doing? Why was he talking with that rasp in his tone? Your heart swells at the comment about Kate, but a confusing feeling settles in your lower body. Why did the air feel thick?

The warmth of the sun was making your skin perspire, leaving a sheen of sweat over your arms. But the thought of heat stroke fled as you became hyper-aware of the man beside you, keeping careful not to touch you, though his gaze still bore into the side of your face like prodding fingers anyways.

He can’t quite figure you out, he admits to himself. So much of you was different – and he couldn’t tell how.

She’s lighter, he tightens his face, not the same as when I left.

But there had been an utter satisfaction when he’d seen you in that alleyway, even if you were different in a million ways, that would never change. Ghost’s body had loosened, his clenched jaw let go, and snappy answers to servers stopped entirely.

Because those were still the same colored eyes that he remembered. He takes a long breath.

Through the haze under your creased skin, a red alarm starts to sound off. Not because of the confusing way you felt the chilled form of Ghost on a near internal level, but because of the hooded individual across the street.

When your eyes lock, they back up three paces and bolt down the adjacent street, vanishing into the crowd. Your expression darkens, and Ghost shifts his attention from your face to the streets.

His eyes blankly follow where you were looking.

“Come on,” you get to your feet, hand snatching at the SAS member's sleeve, dragging him with you as a mother would a toddler. It was ironic – if he resisted, you wouldn’t be able to force him to move, not in a million years, but he slid off his chair with fluid muscles.

He doesn’t question you when he’s brought into an offshoot of the road, vacant of tourists or locals besides a stray cat and a few scavenger birds. Flies jump off garbage cans, buzzing through the air above your heads as you level Ghost with a serious stare.

You nearly stumble over your words when you get to look at those long blonde eyelashes that you remember heatedly, but push through as they move to half-lid his blank eyes. Your heart skips beats as you spare looks up and down the space.

What the fuck is going on with me? Focus. This is serious.

But, Jesus, he should really stop looking at you like that.

“You said you had a lead over the radio – anything on someone called Catello Tullio by chance?” You ask, voice like stone.

“Tullio?” Ghost hums in the back of his throat, all business, hips moving under him as he goes to glance at the street. His balaclava moves as he speaks. “Someone made a mention of it. ‘Fore I put a knife in ‘em, ‘o course.” Nodding, he huffs out, “On me.”

Turning on long legs, he starts to walk farther down the path, and you follow at his side, peering up and eager to gain more intel. “You’ve caused quite a panic around here, Sunshine. Cell’s terrified of the ‘Reaper.’ I’m nearly impressed.”

He briefly flashes an optic to you, heart betraying him as he remains locked on your lips. Rotating his jaw, he turns back forward.

“Oh, my,” smirking slowly, you roll your eyes, “whatever will I do without your approval, great Ghost.”

“Dunno – kick the bucket probably.” Shaking your head in false annoyance, the slow, mocking, stain in the man’s tone leaks into your very DNA; coating it with honey. Like a warm sunrise, you clock a small hitch in his chest and equate it to muted chuckles when you laugh.

“Don’t go placing bets, now. I’m not so easily broken.”

“Oh, wouldn’t think of it, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t be my handiwork if it happened,” his tone goes light, “don’t wanna take credit away from you.”

“Brit.” You spit with fake venom.

“American.” He grumbles back, but you clock the small spark in his iris, cold blue bouncing silver light like snow.

He sounded…entertained? Snide in a sarcastic way.

Your mouth rises in a stupid, dopey, grin as you stare from the side of your vision, chest jumping in easy comedy. What a strange pair you two were, but you find you liked his company even more, this time around.

Or maybe he had changed slightly. Or maybe it was just you.

At the end of the day, you were relieved that it was easy to talk to him. Conversations with corpses are a bit one sided, after all.

Ghost’s lips had to be at least quirked under that dark fabric to achieve mischief like what he was spitting out, you leveled with yourself. At the minimum, the man wasn’t annoyed he’d been forced out of his own primary mission because of you.

You remember he wasn’t averse to cracking jokes – particularly dark ones – but it had…it had never felt like his before.

Strange, you admit with a raised brow and a cocked head, cheeks burning for no apparent reason. You’d gotten him to chuckle? Holy hell, you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that. I’d think he would be pretty pissed about being sent here. He’s never been one to fuck around.

You both continue in easy silence until you decide to speak once more, intent on asking where you were being led.

Ghost’s head had perked up in what you assumed to be soldier-like attention, but then his head had whipped behind the two of you. Oblivious to his shift in mood, like a dark cloud, you open your mouth.

“Well, where are we–”

“--Get down!” Hands slap on the back of your arm and jerk you to the opposite wall as a loud echo rings out. Whizzing over your head so close that you feel the breeze of it.

Gasping, the air is expelled from your lungs in one fell swoop; your spine grating over the rough stone as your legs scramble to keep upright. Wiping away the shock quicker than an eraser over a whiteboard, your neck snaps to the problem; brain already hardwired to get over being shot at and the adrenaline that floods your veins immediately after.

Across the way, Ghost’s fast hand was reaching to the back of his outfit – without a doubt going to grab a concealed weapon. Eyes fiery and arms tight. And as though you were seeing it happen in slow motion, you lock onto the hostile in the middle of the alley back the way you both came. And then onto the hooded silhouette ahead of you.

Boxed in.

Hyperfocused, all of it happens in only three seconds, two trained professionals protecting each other without even realizing it.

One, you realize how this will have to play out if you don’t act immediately. You don’t know how you can trust Ghost to take the other hostile while you focus on the one ahead, but you don’t question it. Two, your gun lays heavy in your hand as your legs pivot. Three, you fire double shots with a loose finger and hear mirrored gunfire from the man beside you.

You don’t bother watching him drop.

Snapping your head backward with a rageful expression to see Ghost’s corpse hit the floor with a cracking of a skull, shouts start to ring over the city. When you lower your weapon, you turn to notice the Birt examining your own downed hostile with a satisfied stare. If you hadn’t had his back, he would have been shot in it.

But what you didn’t know was that he was thinking the same thing about you.

Turning to stare at each other, your widened eyes lock; fingers twitching along the cool X12’s metal as those stormy iris’ only seem to darken further when they dart to your lips. Like staring into a wild animal’s gaze and pretending you’re not in a trance because of it – stuck in that moment of infinity and nothingness with not a single muscle moving. Waiting for either a mouthful of fangs around your supple neck or for the beast to turn away with grace and practiced steps.

You swore Ghost’s mouth parted under that damned balaclava, but whatever he was going to say was lost when the world came back in a violent storm of screams. Panicking, you gape at the entrance – seeing multiple shadows shoving through the crowd to get to you.

“On me!” Keeping your pistol in one hand, you bolt, hearing heavy footsteps pounding behind you as your mind begins to run.

Ghost trails without a single doubt in his mind as to why he’s following you, and it makes him cautious.

Catacombs, you decide, get under the city and backtrack to the outskirts. Survey and have Ghost tell me his intel before making a move…yeah!

“Where are we headin'?!” Ghost shouts, keeping right your heels as you turn corners. Gunshots ring over your heads as you jump up small groupings of tile steps, blood pounding in your ears. You try to remember the maps you had stored in your files underground. Left…no, two rights. Shit! I need to be higher – see the streets like a bird would! “Reaper?!”

“Do you trust me?!” You call over your shoulder, and though it seems deranged, a smile forms over your lips. “I’ll need an answer in the next few minutes, yeah? I’m on a time crunch!”

“What are you on, Girl?” The adrenaline speaks to you, propelling your legs faster and faster. You vault over a fallen trash bin and take the shock to your ankles as it travels to your thighs. Snickering, you feel the brooding man’s presence like you always could – just beside you like a loyal hound. His focus excites you as you put your gun away in the small of your back. “Bloody hell! Not giving me a choice?”

“Not if you don’t want to get shot in the ass!” Taking one more right, you find yourself rapidly approaching a dead end, tall walls, a balcony, and a large dumpster – the flap already closed overtop. Not answering the man as he barks out a comment, you throw yourself atop it with a puff of breath and spasming lungs.

Laughing, your hands don’t falter. Reaching up with eager fingers, you grab at the black metal front of the balcony a small distance above and suck down a hot breath. Your arms strain, sickly sweet sweat on the top of your lip, and eyes wide with glee despite the gaining footfalls rising like a battlefield cry. Jerking your body up with only your upper-body strength, you slide your abdomen over the railing with barely a second passing. Once your feet are firmly on someone's property, you twist around and slap your hands to the metal with a twinkle in your vision; face wrinkled with all the animated amusement.

A wide grin is stuck on you.

Ghost stares up with slightly widened eyes from the ground, arms poised on the garbage bin.

Oh, hell, when she smiles like that…

“But I can’t judge, can I?” Teasing, you extend a helping grip with a smirk. “Everyone has their fetishes, hm, Ghost? Maybe yours is just having a gun pointed at you.”

He blinks at that, but knowing the urgency in the back of your throat, he pushes himself up with a grunt. You try not to watch his muscles strain, but spy the way the veins in his forearms grow larger as his alluring hips flex. They situate themselves under him as he crunches before straightening in an instant.

Fuck, don’t drool, you scold, lips lightly parted like seven devils were flying in the back of your mind. Jesus, imagine the weight those things can carry…shit. Wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to that.

A leather-coated hand slaps into your awaiting one. You snap back to a screaming reality and stare down into hypnotic sheens of ice and…wait…did Ghost have fucking green flecks near his pupils?

“You sure it isn’t yours, Sunshine?” He harshly comments, and his balaclava moves with a rising of his eyebrow.

Clearing your throat, you murmur a weak reply as your face begins to feel like a blazing fire, squeezing his limb before pulling. He chuffs. Grunting violently, you know he does most of the work in helping himself up, though the Brit still slaps your shoulder in comradery when he’s stable. Kneeling down, he forces himself into the wall behind the two of you, fingers weaving to create a cuff over his knee.

Tossing his head up, he motions with urgency.

“C’mon. Be quick ‘bout it.”

Catching one foot in the basin of his clutch, you force down your illicit thoughts about Ghost and jump, pushing off with your opposite leg on his shoulder and his added boost. Scaling the wall, you arch and scramble - with a growing bite in your side – to the terracotta-shingle roof.

Following after and checking your six, the beast of a man joins just in time.

Shadows dart around the corner far on the ground, and the both of you are speeding animals over the rooftops in the meantime. Against better judgment, boots pounding the tiles, you release loud bouts of genuine laughter.

How long had it been since you’d had such fun? Enjoyed someone else's company like this? Running across homes, you look at your side, only to find Ghost’s eyes already digging into you. Unrelenting. Unmovable. Panting, you smile brightly, giggles making your sides hurt something awful but your pace doesn't slow for an instant.

All it took was a glance at the streets – you know where you are now.

“Enjoying yourself, Reaper?” He asks, arms pumping and barely winded, and you wonder for a moment how he breathes under that covering of his – it had to smell horrible by the end of the day.

“For…the first time in ages, Ghost.” He chuckles at that, and it is a betrayal of his nature. How could someone so violent, so cloaked in oceans of blood, produce such a soft sound? A genuine sound that makes your stomach flip?

His bewitched eyes rove back in front of him, and he can’t deny the simplicity of speaking to you. It wasn’t a chore, just a conversation with a person who he wouldn’t mind having on 141 at his side.

There were few people worthy of that.

You swallow thickly and take point, leading the shadow of death to your home underground so you can re-evaluate.

You can only wonder why you don’t feel nervous as he watches over you, skin marked with horrors but his hand had fit so well in your own. And you also wonder how you can come to care for someone you haven’t seen in ages so quickly, as if you’d both been around each other for years.

Had you really ever forgotten him? Or just tried to push the affection, both emotional and physical, for him out? But that was the problem, you tell yourself with a clenched jaw, that physical attraction. All of that was just…tied into a million knots. Complicated.

You’d never had sex before.

And, Ghost questioned himself as he watched your legs move, did he forget you out of necessity? Because those eyes of yours won’t leave him alone, and he so very much enjoyed looming over you.

He sighs heavily and follows in silence.

—

When you first joined them, they all created rumors. This was long before you were permitted solo Ops, long before half of your file was filled and bleeding with black ink that would shame a warlord. When everyone just thought you were signed up because you were some unhinged kid, brimming with unchecked problems and willing to throw everything away just for the chance to prove yourself. Who got into it for kicks.

They would say you enjoyed it, killing. Reveled in it, really. That it got you off when you were covered in blood and crimson guts as they pooled at your feet.

You suppose that was what turned you away from sex in general – those heavy comments said with no remorse that stuck with you. It was fear almost, a genuine twisting of your mind to make it your fault. It wasn’t your fault, you knew that; you could sleep with anyone you wanted and the comments weren’t a brand on your skin.

You could forget about it. You should.

But the words were so mean. Just cruel for the sense of being cruel. And it stuck with you.

If that was all anyone would see, why try and force them to look away? You kept to yourself, never spoke unless spoken to, and shoved all of it down like a kill switch. No sex, no relationships. Nothing to make you think about the rumors.

Getting off on death? You were horrified at the concept, horrified that people would play around like that with you – with your life!

You just ended up telling yourself you wouldn’t feel it until it hurt too bad. In a way, you were right…but you can only force emotions down for a while until they break forward like a fist to the mouth.

Besides Mutt, they had many names for you – titles and backhanded monikers. Rabid. Demon. Devil. Monster. Sometimes, beast.

But they all had the same meaning. Inhuman. Wrong.

It shouldn’t have bothered you that much. It…It shouldn’t have made you stay up at night still thinking about the way they would laugh and pinch your arms as you were left shaking; drowning in gore not your own because they sent you into the heart of the Hot Zone for a few jokes. Teasing you about how you probably touched yourself because of it.

But it was just an excuse to make you too scared to leave. Your reputation…

“There’s that Devil for ya’, always ready to slit some more throats for us. You think you could do the next few, Mutt? You’ll love it, I know you will. I’ll give you a good report if you do it without alerting the guards – see there… ‘Course you will. Fucking freak.”

Your eyes stare forward blankly, Dirk leaving a dotted fluid trail over the dusty ground.

Why did they do this to you?

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minlve0 · 11 months

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𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲?

All the pictures are from Pinterest. If you like this post, do reblog. Just liking a post on Tumblr, does not help the post. And it's kind of disappointing, doing all this work with nothing to show for it.

Thank you.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 1

Your aura draws people in. There's a magnetic charm to it. You can laugh it up with people around you while still having a mysterious aura. Romantic or sexual interests want to get to know you. They think that you have a hidden aspect and knowing that would be a prize.

You can be intuitive or just an emotionally sensitive person. They want you to submit to them. It can be in a "give me all your power" way or "let me take of you" way. It depends on the person.

You need to heal yourself. There might be some past hurts that you are not letting yourself move on from. According to the cards, you are a strong and dominant personality. Right now is not the time for love. You need to let yourself grow and become confident; and tap into that energy.

If you have already healed, then you have a strong personality. You allow yourself to be soft for a few selected people you love. There are a few who are envious of that and want to be one of your closed ones. You need to decipher if it's because of your personality or they just want to take advantage of you.

Sexually; people have a lot of fantasies surrounding you. They would love to make you squirt/cum. Your chest or arms can be very defined. It's something that catches a lot of attention. Your upper back too especially if you have toned muscles.

You can be good at putting on a show or strip teasing. Generally, people also think that you walking away from them is a tease too. That is fucking weird, be careful. There are too many weird energies trying to take advantage of you. You might not be in the best place emotionally or they think that you are vulnerable right now.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 2

You are generally a hidden person. Not many people know about you; but you have a depth of emotional capacity and wise brain. You can be academically bright or just a smart person in general. Your mind works fast especially in relation to your wit.

You are hardworking and determined. If you want to get something you are going to work for it no matter what. There's not much known about you. It can be in regards to your personality or your goals. You are not the one to go around screaming your plans.

In love, it can be difficult to get to know you. It takes time for your lover to really get you to open up. You are an intense lover. You keep all your cards on the table and tell them exactly what you are looking for. Not one to tolerate betrayal or lies. You will take care of the one you want and give them everything they need.

Sexually, you can be dominant. You love touching your partner; especially soft and teasing touches. Again you will want to take care of them. Make sure that they are enjoying it or that they have orgasmed. You have a very grounded energy; that your lovers love. It makes them feel protected and safe.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 3

You have an untouchable energy. Something about your demeanor that resembles an emperor/empress. Maybe everything you touch turns into gold. Your posture could be great or your face could exude calmness. Your hair also has many admirers.

There's so many thoughts. Something about you turns your admirer into a poet. Your eyes, your complexion, your aura, your hair. They love everything. Someone is coming in strong and hijacking my reading. It's annoying so I am going to move on.

The songs "mirror ball" or "this is me trying" might resonate. There are eyes on you whenever you enter the party. Everyone thinks that they have understood your personality and know who you are. But they never find out if their assumptions were right or wrong.

Sexually you can experiment with senses. Silk ties and playing with food. Rose petals on the sheets or feathers down the body. You have a very "wispy" energy. One minute I am here, the other I am gone. Hard to pine you down, but worth every second.

#intuitive #pac #tarot #tarotblr #intuitive readings #divination #pick a card reading #free readings #love tarot reading #18+ tarot #18+ readings #romance #love tarot free

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

Note

How about some Yandere Hercules, Thor, Ares, Lu Bu, Rudra, Hades, Qin Shi Huang and Apollo x Hiyori Reader (Leodonis’ Daughter) where she just straight up BITCH SLAPS Apollo for insulting her father

She refuses to back down or bow her head for forgiveness because “I’m a Spartan’s Daughter, I will never back down! Especially when I know I’m Right!”

Underneath her cold, flirtatious and ‘vain’ exterior is a brave, compassionate and selfless woman who cares deeply for others, as she would manipulate any cruel and evil Gods, Humans and Demons with her irresistible beauty for their valuables and power until they have nothing left and give it all up to the people to live better lives

She loves and admires her Father deeply, and won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting him, as she has a high moral code, as her father was a brave and strong man (As she’s a total Daddy’s Girl, even showing her childish and tomboy side when he’s around *As she also tried to drop kick him, one of the moves he taught her for self defense, which he’ll laugh about since he’s glad she can at least defend herself*)

Leodonis is also on the floor cackling after hearing his daughter slap the hell out of Apollo (As her hand print is clear for everyone to see on his face)

-Leonidas couldn’t breathe, death was fast approaching as he held his stomach, never had his abs hurt like this before, even after years of intense workout or even getting stabbed.

-Before him stood a glorious scene, his daughter, who looked like an angel, delicate and soft, was standing over Apollo, who had just got bitch slapped right across the teeth, “I am a daughter of Sparta, worm, and if you insult it’s king, you insult me. And nobody insults Sparta.”

-Apollo was bringing it on himself technically, as the others around you could vouch for, as Apollo was trying to flirt with you, telling you how beautiful you looked and that he couldn’t understand how someone so crash and vulgar could be the father of such an angel.

-You were normally very level-headed and calm, but your papa was your soft spot, even if you would deny it, acting shy about it, you wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands to defend your papa, even though he could do it himself.

-You were known as quite the heartbreaker around Valhalla, but your targets were always cruel people, cruel gods and humans, and you would use your looks and never-ending charm to get in a good position with them, only to rob them blind.

-Many called you a villain and many tried to get you arrested for your crimes, but there were many more who would defend you, as everything you stole, goods, money, food, clothes, and you would always give it to those who needed it but didn’t have it, mainly because those you stole from had taken it or horded it, not distributing it like they were told to do.

-When the investigation was launched, you were actually thanked by so many high ranking gods for finding these thieves, who were punished instead. Many begged you for mercy, but you were cold and unforgiving, “I have no mercy to give to those who deserve none.”

-Many thought your icy nature was alluring, wanting to get to know you in a romantic sense, but in a serious romance, not your typical ones.

-You were always hesitant on making an actual relationship with someone, as you were afraid they would find out about your past exploits and what you’ve done, and you didn’t want to be deemed a loose woman.

-Leonidas would defend you, even if you told him you didn’t need his him, kicking his butt with your foot, telling him to leave, only to make him laugh while others would see your slight tomboy side.

-However, there were times like this where you easily showed your papa and anyone around you, that you were indeed a daughter of Sparta, and the daughter of the king, and you were not to be underestimated by any means.

-Many around were in shock, stunned with wide eyes but at the same time, they were admiring you, you took no disrespect and you slapped a god to the floor, not caring in the slightest that it was done in front of witnesses.

-Holy moly that was HOT!! He couldn’t believe his eyes to watch Apollo flirting with you, the object of his own affections, and then insult your father, and the next thing the sound of a slap is ringing around and Apollo is on the ground, a pulsing red imprint of a hand on his cheek as he lay twitching on the ground. Immediately approached you, asking if you were okay, taking your hand in his own, holding it gently; he was careful because he didn’t want a matching handprint on his own face. You felt your face warm as he held your hand so gently, massaging the palm gently, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself while praising you for making it look so easy. Leonidas couldn’t help but grin, seeing you acting so shy with soft affection, you were so cute!

-Ares, Hades, Hercules, and Qin Shi Huang

-Was in awe, seeing you dispatch a god so easily and with just a slap across the face. It made him curious on how hard you actually hit Apollo. It also made him curious on how strong you actually were; it wasn’t everyday where a woman could drop a god with one hit. Picked you up when you started getting a little feistier then you probably needed to be, wanting to yell at Apollo some more, and they were worried that Leonidas really was going to die from laughing so hard. He was surprised when you went silent, being held princess style before your face immediately went red and you started to push on his face, demanding to be let down. This was an unexpected but enjoyable surprise, seeing you so shy from being treated like a maiden. Leonidas couldn’t help but grin, wiping the tears from his eyes, he knew you could handle yourself, but if you came to him, he had no issues putting someone in their place.

-Lu Bu, Rudra, and Thor

-Stars in his eyes, birds circling his head, and ringing in his ears were all he could recall. He had been speaking to you but had realized, after you disciplined him, that he must have said something rude to you. Could see you glaring down at him, chewing him out but couldn’t hear anything but ringing. You were the whole package, beauty and strength, just like him, and he knew, being a daughter of Sparta, you could handle yourself, you were just like him! He couldn’t help but smile up at you as he became more coherent, hearing Leonidas nearby laughing loudly as well as many others laughing at his misfortune. Apollo beamed up at you, adoration in his eyes as he had never met a woman like you before, “Marry me!” Everyone went silent, completely stunned by the question, however it was your reaction that got more attention as you immediately flushed, holding your cheeks, “What are you saying?! Did I scramble your brains?!” before rushing to your father who was now standing, moving to hide behind him, however, seeing you so shy made Apollo fall even more in love. Now he just needed to convince Leonidas.

-Apollo

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror ares #ror hades #ror heracles #ror qin shi huang #ror lu bu #ror rudra #ror thor #ror apollo

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harmoonix · 11 months

Text

Fatale Astrology ~ Observations ✨

Asteroid Aphrodite [1388] - Pluto aspects (harsh and positive aspects apllying) you know that you are attractive and mysterious, may attract possesive people over you in this life though, and they can be a lesson sometimes

Asteroid Aphrodite [1388] - Moon aspects, your nurturing side is otherworldly the way you care for others and take care of others is adorable, sweet and soft features, very artistic and gifted

Asteroid Aphrodite [1388] - North Node aspects, babe you know you have to love yourself in this life because the blessings are coming, this aspect is like having Venus - NN aspects but has an additional+ and that is that you need to love yourself and to feel good in your body and to share your love (to the right people) in order for you to receive love (again share love only to the people who deserve it)

Ascendant - Lilith in minor aspects embody the energy of Lilith so much, especially if is quincunx there, even with minor aspects the energy can be felt so much

Natives with Lilith in the 4th/10th houses can have very strict parents/strict rules in the family house hold/close minded parents (Apllying if you have Cancer or Capricorn Lilith and Even Lilith in Cancer or Capricorn Degrees)

Venus in aspects with the Sun can make the native to be very charming, they can be very blessed when it comes to their appearance, their voices could be stunning though (minor aspects applied)

Jupiter and Sun aspects (especially in negative aspects) can attract people's attention without them realizing it, like you can find people staring at you for no reason (You're stunning babe stay blessed 💅🏼)

Jupiter and Ascendant aspects can make people to be soo attracted into them, you can find people trying to get close randomly and often people can really be impressed by your pressence, also you are like lucky charm for the people who around you

Mars in the 11th house/Aquarius natives can get pretty jealous when their friends make other friends or spend time with other people, here Mars can be often possesive in friendships and even ending up arguing about it

Pluto in the 11th house can often get betrayed a lot in friendships, your friends can talk behind your back in very bad ways, honestly natives with this placement deserve so much better 🕊️, your gift is that with the time you can see your friendships transforming over time in order for you to see if your friends are good people or not

Pluto sextile or trine ascendant makes the native to have a very mesmerizing things about the way they look at people, the way you look at others can drive others insane

Lilith - Moon aspects are sooo intense, with these aspects you can observe the dark side of people very fast, also you tend to bring others insecurities very high and ending up with people judging you 🥲

Asteroid Cassanova 7328 aspecting the ascendant/in the 1st house makes the native to appear very promising, the flirty aura is in them. Also because of their flirty side, their voices might be very hot

Asteroid Cassanova 7328 aspecting the Midheaven/people can see you promising and as someone who is very flirty talking, the public can see you as someone very attractive

Asteroid Eva [164] positive aspects with Moon: Your gracious nature and your sensible aura makes you look very angelic, with head in the clouds searching for your dreams. Your soul is definitely feminine and had major feminine energy in it. Your soul was created by the devine feminine

Asteroid Eva [164] positive aspects with Sun: You radiate feminine energy whenever you are, your grace and gentle nature makes you seem like an otherworldly creature coming to explore the earth and its blessings. Your soul is the mother feminine of earth

Asteroid Eva [164] aspecting Lilith: I really don't have enough words to describe how powerful these energies are together, you radiate so much sexual energy and in the same time light feminine energy in the same time is like you have 2 sides of personalities (good and bad) in negative aspects it can feel more intense, your energy is so powerful

Having your Sun Sign at Venusian Degrees can make you so charming and gifting, is like Venus herself gave you a bit of her energy in your personality (Venusian Degrees: 2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26°)

Jupiter/Venus/Pluto/Mars in 8th house emoji describing: 💥💦😈🍑🍆🛏️🛐💯💫😻💝❤️‍🔥👉🏼👌🏼🫰🏼🏩 (❤️‍🔥💋❤️‍🔥)

An harsh aspected Lilith especially by Sun or Moon could be a wound related to their feminine energy, you need to nurture yourself and to heal your wounds, your feminine energy is calling and reaching out to you for help

Leo/Scorpio/Taurus/Libra in the 7th house are seductively charmers, they find people crushing over them so easy even without them realizing, Sun/Mars and Venus have influence over their 7th house is so 🌶️❤️‍🔥

💋 A new week, a new post (that sounds like i post once in a million years😭), anywaysss today i came with red glossy content for y'all,😍💋, hope you all are doing good 😊💗 and also because summer is coming and you can feel it in the air please make sure to keep yourself healthy 🕊️

Have a great week everyone 😊💗, make sure to share your love so you can receive aswell 💗💗💗💗 I hope y'all never forget how pretty and beautiful you are all, because you ARE ALL amazing!!! 💗💗💗

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trcpicoz · 18 days

Note

I need the whole kink alphabet with mr ruben dias por favor🤪

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐑𝐃

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝟏𝟖+

A = Aftercare | How do they take care of their partner after a session? How do they prefer to be taken care of?

when it comes to aftercare with ruben it depends on how rough the sex was. if it was a rough session, he’ll follow it up with loads of praise and cuddling and a spa like bath with oils and candles to relax you from how intense the sex was. for softer slower sex he’ll get you cleaned up and make you some sweets to wind down with him in bed.

B = Bondage | Do they like to be tied up or do the tying? Do they like rope, handcuffs or something else?

no, he doesn’t like anything restrictive for either of you.

C = Collar | Do they like collars? Leashes? Or other symbols of ownership?

no, ruben likes to display his ownership verbally and physically.

D = Dominance | Are they more of a Dominant or a submissive? Switch?

ruben is strictly dominant. he loves throwing you on the bed like a doll and overpowering you with the strength of his hands and power of his thrusts.

E = Edgeplay | How do they feel about edgeplay?

ruben loves edging you and getting edged but only on occasion as it’s very intense for him and you.

F = Feelings | How do they feel about their kinks? Do they make them feel euphoric, safe, shameful, etc?

ruben felt shameful of his kinks at first because he felt like he was some kind of degenerate, until he met you. allowing him to release his more aggressive and dominant side has been healing and euphoric for him, that’s why he loves you.

G = Garments | Do they have any particular clothing kinks? )Thigh highs, leather, lingerie, costumes, etc...)

ruben LOVES lingerie but only if you love it. whenever he buy lingerie for you he gets your approval because you feeling sexy turns him on so much he love confidence. ruben himself also has some sexy underwear in drawer.

H = Heated | How do they feel about angry sex? Hate sex?

ruben loves taking his anger out through sex. whenever he loses a game or gets into it with pep he gets super aggressive but not to the point where he’s dangerous, just very dominant and rough.

*ruben comes home from training after an argument with pep*

“hey baby how was-”

“take your clothes off”

I = Importance | How important are their kinks to them? Would they be satisfied with a partner who doesn’t share them?

ruben is satisfied with whatever you want. obviously you loving his kinks are a plus but as long as he has you he doesn’t mind.

J = Just Kidding | How do they handle discussing or confessing their kinks?

he doesn’t handle it well at all. it’s hard for ruben to open up about his kinks.

K = Kinks | What are their kinks?

cum play

choking

angry/hate sex

edging

praising

L = Limits | What are their soft and hard limits?

his limit is degrading, he can’t bring himself to ever degrade you even if he doesn’t mean it.

M = Masturbation | Would they ever masturbate with a partner?

he’s tried to do it before and ended up inside you.

N = Noise | What sort of things do they say? What sounds do they make?

ruben does a lot of deep grunting especially when he’s angry fucking you he takes all of out on your pussy. while he can be very aggressive in bed, he also loves praising you while he’s roughly fucking you.

“my beautiful princess”

“you take it like such a good girl”

“you’re so good at swallowing my cum”

O = Orgies | Have they or would they ever have sex with multiple partners?

no, ruben only wants you.

P = Porn | Do they like porn? Would they ever make a video with their partner?

ruben doesn’t like watching porn much but he loves to make videos with you for when he’s away from you.

Q = Questions | How curious are they about other kinks? Do they have some they’d like to explore?

ruben doesn’t like to explore much unless you urge him to. he’s not that open with his kinks and it takes him a while to express them.

R = Roleplay | Do they enjoy roleplaying?

no, he’s not the role playing type.

S = Safeword | What is their safeword? What do they do when the safeword gets called?

“lisboa” is the safe word and whenever it’s called ruben immediately stops and gets worried about you and makes sure you’re okay.

T = Tickling | Do they like sensory play? What kind?

no, he doesn’t.

U = Undermined | How do they handle brats? Are they the brat?

ruben doesn’t like when you’re a brat so you don’t do it. he thrives off affirmation.

V = Vengeance | Tell us about their punishments - the ones they give or take.

ruben doesn’t like punishing his partner.

W = Whipping | Do they like impact play? What kinds?

yes, ruben loves to spank you and slap your face lightly before he spits in your mouth.

X = X-Tra | What’s another kinky fun fact about them?

ruben wants to try a bit of ass play but he’s worried about how you’d view him as a man.

Y = Yes, Sir | Do they identify with a title or role like Dom or Sir, or Slave or Kitten?

ruben enjoys being called “sir” he likes when you give him power in the bed.

Z = Zzz… | Would they ever participate in sleep play with their partner?

with your consent, yes.

#footballer smut #footballer x reader #luna answers🍄#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias #luna’s dirty thoughts 💭

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bejeweledreverie · 2 months

Text

Where The Ocean Waves Met My Anxious Heart And Your Strong Embrace

wc: around 1.5k

warnings: reader almost drowning (as a flashback), mentions of fear of death, panic attack, written in 1st person, english is not my first language, ooc rafe?, fluff, not fully proofread

a/n: AAAA my first fic and i am not sure how to feel about it. truly hope it makes sense. comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future fics (ideally would love to put out one fic every week but we'll see how that goes ;-; )!! if you liked this, please comment and reblog <333

p.s. can't decide if the title fits this at all

I never liked him. In fact, I want to gag anytime the name ‘Rafe Cameron’ leaves someone's mouth. He had somehow (unsurprisingly) lived up to his title in the Outer Banks, the Kook Prince. An arrogant and cocky asshole was all that he was to me.

I never really cared about the whole Pogues and Kooks thing. I was friends with both, in fact Kie, Pope, John B and JJ were some of my closest friends. Just because I live in Figure Eight, doesn’t make me better than those who live on the Cut. That is what my parents always taught me, since both of them also used to be Pogues.

But I was never gonna live it down when it came to the eldest Cameron offspring. He always calls me ‘the rip-off Kook’.

Sarah and I have been best friends since forever, but I never got along with Rafe. Ever. Even when we were kids, he always annoyed me, trying and often succeeding at pissing me off or upsetting me.

You would think that we would’ve grown out of our childish antics as time went on, but it only got worse. We could never pass each other without sending glares or saying snarky remarks.

It’s a Friday night in late June. My family and I are at Cameron's for our annual summer barbecue.

I had left my camera there a couple days prior after a sleepover with Sarah. As always, I was tasked to document the gathering, so I went inside to look for it.

And that is why I found myself in Rafe’s room, looking for my camera, that Sarah had left there for some unknown reason to me.

I had been in there a couple times before, but I never had the chance to check it out completely.

I was surprised to find the wall behind his bed covered in photos. Was he also into photography?

My eyes drifted to the window that overlooked the front yard of Tannyhill.

There was soft music playing, as our families were conversing, sipping on wine and enjoying the food. My need to capture this moment became unignorable. But as I turned to grab my camera from his desk, I saw Rafe standing behind me. I flinch from his presence.

“Jesus, can you not creep upon people like that?” I say.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he answers, a lazy smirk on his lips.

I roll my eyes at the nickname, turning back to the window.

“What are you doing in my room, Y/L/N?” he asks, as he moves to stand next to me.

“Came to get this,” I picked up the camera from the desk and prepared to snap the photo I was planning on taking before Rafe interrupted me.

“I find it hard to believe that you only came to take your camera, you wanted to snoop and find something to blackmail me with,” he says, jokingly accusing me with a smirk on his face.

“Oh Cameron, I have known you for over a decade, pretty sure I have enough dirt on you as it is,” I laugh slightly, as I adjust the camera settings.

“Really, because in all these years you have never used it on me.”

“Knowledge is power, Rafael. Don’t expect me to play all of my cards out at once,” I say, zooming in a little bit on the party in the yard.

Once I’m finished taking the photos, I turn to Rafe, finding him already staring at me. I’m used to receiving glares from him, but this time his eyes held something else. An emotion I can’t describe. His gaze was intense.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I turned to look at the photo covered wall.

“I didn’t know you were into photography,” I say, absentmindedly admiring each photo.

Rafe looks down at his shoes, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I, uh, always wanted to try it and I ended up liking it a lot.”

My eyes settle on one particular photo. It’s a photo of the ocean, which appears to be right before the storm.

I look at the date in the bottom right corner and my body freezes.

I can feel the water filling my lungs and I can hear the storm again. The fear of death clouds my brain.

All of a sudden I’m hiccuping for breaths and I feel my legs give out.

…

It was supposed to be a stupid dare, but my stubbornness knows no boundaries.

When JJ jokingly challenged me to surf in the storm, I should’ve just laughed it off, but I didn’t.

Everything was going well, until the wave threw me off the board and I was pushed underwater.

The storm had gotten stronger, so did the waves, and I could barely breathe in when I came up, as another wave pushed me below the surface. Safe to say I was drowning.

I was so scared, but I couldn’t scream out for help. My limbs were burning from trying to stay above water and slowly I gave in.

Suddenly, I felt strong arms wrap around me and attempt to pull me out.

Then it all went black.

…

I felt Rafe’s arms wrap around me to keep me from falling as I choked out a sob. It was like I was experiencing that day all over again. I couldn’t breathe properly and I was shaking like crazy.

“Hey, Y/N, hey! Look at me. You’re safe, you’re not in the water. Just breathe.”

His proximity, my almost drowning, it was too much for me. I tried to wriggle out his grip, failing, as his arms around me only tightened.

“It’s okay, you are safe. I am here.”

I finally let myself collapse into him, sobbing into his chest. He started to rub my back soothingly, while whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

The blurry images of the waves crashing still flooded my brain.

“I thought I was gonna die,” I sobbed

His arms only tightened around me hearing that sentence.

Once I was calm enough, I pulled away slightly. Rafe was already staring at me, and once again, I couldn’t describe the emotion behind his eyes. Was it pityness? Worry? Or was it care?

No, there is no way he cares about me. We hate each other. Right?

I find myself staring back into his captivating blue eyes.

And then the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“You saved me that day,” I state, my eyes widening with the realization.

Rafe looks away, his hold on me loosening.

Oh my god. That’s why he knew what my panic attack was about. That’s why after the accident he didn’t talk to me for weeks. Does he actually care about me?

“Rafe, why did you never tell me?” I ask, my hand on his jaw, turning his head so he looks at me.

He sighs, before getting up and walking towards his photo covered wall. He takes off the picture of the ocean from the wall and gestures to me to sit on his bed.

“I, uh,” he starts nervously, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want things to change between us."

I sat down in front of him, waiting for him to elaborate, nervous as to where this was going.

“Y/N, no matter what happened, you were always there to call me out on my bullshit, whether that was treating my sister poorly or bullying others. You always knew how to put me in my place and I didn’t want that to change.”

I look at him, surprised.

The boy who pulled on my braids in elementary school, the boy who knew which buttons to push to annoy me, that same boy was now sitting in front of me telling me that I am the only thing in his life that he can count on.

He worriedly flips the photo to the other side and hands it to me. I take it and look at the writing on the back of it.

Once I read it, it didn’t take long for our lips to meet for a gentle kiss that is filled with years of pent up emotions and feelings that we didn’t know were there.

His hands are gently cupping my face, as if he was afraid I would break.

When we break apart, a little breathless and dizzy, I once again look at the inscription of the photo and I know that I have never been so sure about something in my life before. Somehow everything that had happened over the last 10 years made perfect sense. And even the accident made sense, because without it, we wouldn’t be here right now smiling shyly at each other.

On the back of the photo, in squiggly handwriting, were written 6 words.

The day I almost lost her.

@winterrrnight @h34rtsformilli

#rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe x reader #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 6 months

Text

Kinktober (13)- Worship

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: You prove to Wanda how much you love her after she confesses she feels insecure about her body.

Warnings/Tags: Soft smut, Insecurities about body image, Fingering, Fluff

Kinktober Masterlist

Walking into the bedroom after dropping the twins off at their fathers, you see Wanda standing by the mirror in only her underwear and slowly creep up behind her. Too busy in her own mind, she doesn't notice you in the reflection, body jumping when your arms snake around her middle and your head rests on her shoulder. You frown when you see her face, the insecurities and disgust in her eyes as she looks at her body.

“What’s wrong, love?” you murmur softly, her eyes meeting yours in the reflection, her smile not genuine as she tries to seem ok.

“Nothing Detka,” she whispers back, voice a little shaky. You simply look at her in the mirror, not accepting that as an answer causing her to sigh. “I just…I don’t get what you see in me,” she mutters, her hands going to her stomach, fingers tracing the stretch marks there.

“I see the most beautiful woman in the world,” your voice is almost overwhelmingly full of emotion as you keep your gaze fixated on her, “I see a woman who has the biggest heart possible, that’s kind, caring and loving to everyone,” your hands overlap hers, your own fingers tracing the marks there, “I also see a strong, powerful woman who brought two incredible people into this world that I love with my whole heart.” Her eyes glint with doubt at your words and she looks down at the floor while you continue to look at the mirror.

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m your girlfriend,” she mumbles, turning her head to look at you properly.

“I’m not,” you whisper back, moving your hands to cup her jaw as she turns her body fully to face you, “I mean what I say Wanda, you’re beautiful, inside and out. You’re my everything.” A lone tear drops from her eyes, your thumb brushing it away gently.

“I’m sorry,” her voice barely audible, “It’s just he used to… he would say-”

“He is an idiot who doesn't matter anymore,” you cut off, not letting her mind drown in his belittling and degrading comments. “You are so much more than what he ever said,” you lean forwards and press a soft kiss to her lips, smiling into the kiss when you feel her wrap her arms around you and pull you closer. “In fact, why don’t I show you how much I love this body, how much I love you?” You question against her lips, her eyes flicking up to yours to see how they darken ever so slightly.

Wanda answers by moving her hands to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss as you guide the two of you to the bed. You push her ever so softly, her falling onto the mattress, hair sprawling out as she looks like a work of art. You climb on top of her, pressing your lips to hers passionately but slowly, your hands drifting up and down her body, touch delicate making her whimper softly into your mouth.

“You are ethereal, my love,” you murmur as you break the kiss, moving to place open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Your hands swiftly unclasp her bra, discarding the item on the floor before moving your hands to softly cup her breasts. You hear her sigh at your words, the doubt still lingering slightly making you look up from your position near her chest. “If you don’t believe me love, read my mind,” you say, her hesitating for a moment before her hands gently thread through your hair. You feel her magic flow through as you continue your journey down her body, worshipping every inch you possibly can. A gasp leaves her at the intensity of your love for her, the admiration and adoration you have for her, and she leaves your mind without needing to look any further.

“Do you believe me now?” you murmur out, mouth kissing the top of her chest as you plan to lavish her with affection. You take a perk nipple into your mouth, sucking lightly on the sensitive nub while your fingers roll the other, a low moan escaping her. Your tongue swirls around her hardened nipple, a groan escaping you at the soft whimpers leaving her lips, the vibrations making her moan louder momentarily. You let go with a pop, looking up at her with awe in your eyes as a string of saliva attaches from your mouth to her chest. You kiss across her chest, in between the valley of her breasts before taking the other nipple into your mouth and moving your hand to the breast that’s wet from your mouth. Your fingers trace around her nipple teasingly as your tongue flicks her other before you take it fully into your mouth. You repeat what you did to her other breast, sucking and licking at the sensitive until you have her whimpering desperately for you to continue.

“Please Detka,” She moans out, looking down at you with pleading eyes making you smirk into her skin.

“Soon, love,” you whisper, placing a kiss at the top of her abdomen and gradually making your way down. When you reach her stretch marks you feel her tense ever so slightly and look up to her head lolled to the side, looking away from you. “Look at me Wanda,” her eyes snap over to you at your tone, your eyes full of love and care that makes her want to pull you back up to her face and crash her lips to yours. “These,” you press a kiss to a small scar, “Don’t disgust me, ok? I don’t care what he said, they don’t make you look ugly or disgusting. In fact, I think they make you even more beautiful,” you look at her as you move to kiss as many as you can. “They show how strong and amazing you are, how you brought Tommy and Billy into this world, so please my love, don’t be ashamed of them,” you see in her eyes how she listens to your words, the doubt fading away making you smile against her skin.

You move up her body to press your lips to hers, both of you pouring your emotions into it as her hands cup your jaw and you brace yourself above her with one hand. Your fingers continue your journey down her body, them sliding under the waistband of her panties so you could pull the soaked fabric off of her.

“You’re so wet for me,” you groan against her lips when you slide your fingers through her folds, her arousal coating your fingers.

“Please,” she moans once again when she feels you tease her entrance with your index finger, your thumb moving to slowly circle her clit. You quieten her with your mouth, claiming it once again and muffling the moan that leaves her lips when you slide your finger in effortlessly. You thrust your finger in at a torturous pace and slowly drag it out before sliding it back in to have her groaning in frustration. You ignore her pleas that spill from her lip, wanting to slowly build her orgasm up and have her squirming under you.

You curl your finger in her, hitting her g-spot with every pump of your fingers, making her hands go to your back as she holds onto you for support, eyes closing and mouth parting in pleasure. You watch her as her face contorts to pleasure with every movement, breathy sighs and soft moans filling the room as your thumb rubs tighter circles on her clit. Her body writhes under you, hips bucking up in search of more pleasure while your fingers continue at the same place.

“Please, please,” she moans over and over, you finally giving in and increasing your pace. You're thrusting your fingers into her mercilessly, your name tumbling out of her mouth like a chant as her orgasm swiftly approaches. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she groans out, throwing her head back against the mattress. “I love you,” she sighs out before your lips crash against hers, dampening the scream that leaves her lips. Her body tenses under you, a powerful orgasm ripping through her body as her legs begin to shake. You prolong her orgasm as long as you can, moving your fingers inside her, and then help her ride out her aftershocks.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, pressing small pecks all over her face making her smile, nose scrunching cutely.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into another kiss, smiling against your lips as you move so your body weight rests on her, arms wrapping around her so you can roll the two of you over. You lay on your back with her on top of you, grinning ear to ear before moving to rest her face at the crook of your neck. Her breathing tickles your neck, hands slipping under your shirt to brush against your warm skin. “So warm,” she mutters, making you smile as you look down, her eyes closed as she gradually drifts off to sleep in your arms.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #eventual smut #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #mommy wanda #smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #kinktober #soft smut #soft #initmate #stretch marks #insecure #body image #body posititivity #authogirl0131

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erzsebetrosztoczy · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

That would depend on the relationship he has with you. Aemond is a complex man, and while he has some qualities he would generally show to his lover, he would act very differently in a marriage and in an affair with you. If the two of you are married, prepare yourself for a lot of attention. Aemond is reversed and stoic- brooding even to the outside world, but with you he can let down his walls, showing his real side – the one that is desperate for love and care.

Because of the intensity of his lovemaking he is very attentive afterwards; making sure you're comfortable and having a good time. He might even help soothe the dull pain caressing your body, drawing circles on your skin. He would lay in bed with you, an arm wrapped around you tightly, snuggling as long as you wish, listening to each other's breathing and heartbeat.

In an affair he won't have time for much softness. He will check if you're alright, but overall Aemond needs to get ready as soon as possible. Lending you a wet towel so you can clean yourself up, helping you tie the laces at your dress - then with a fleeting kiss he's gone.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of their and also their partner’s)

He is one of the deadliest man in court, if not all in King's Landing – the young prince has come to his prime, agile, swift and sturdy, his opponents have much to fear. Aemond's especially proud of his upper body – broad shoulders, with strong arms and a confident grip. He loves how easily he can have his ways with you, holding you down, picking you up, he enjoys manhandling you because he has so much power over you.

How you cling to his neck and shoulders at nights when he's deep inside you, as you clinging to him would be your last harbor.

His favorite thing on your body is your thighs, how soft they are, how perfectly they fit around his hips, heels digging into his muscular back. Aemond loves handling the soft flesh on your legs, grabbing, squeezing, scratching them up – how he kisses the skin, and it feels like he sweeps his lips above silk.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Again– two different scenarios. While this infamous prince lives for taking risks, a bastard child at the moment wouldn't be ideal for either of you. So he tries to control himself as much as he can, releasing his seed on your thigh, your stomach or on your back – but Aemond has little self control when he's balls deep in you, so prepare a cup of moon tea, just in case.

If you're married, he still would be cautious – even though he knows his house, his family, his blood must continue; war wages at your doorstep and it's dangerous times to have children around. But if you come to be with a child he won't oppose that – Aemond would welcome the idea of having a family on his own someday.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Aemond is a freaky boy at heart. You just have to look at him – leather, straps, metal stud, all black (or dark greens). Broody, emo boy loves to have full control over the actions he does, when he's in charge you're under his control and mercy. Loves to tie you up, teasing you until you're a mewling mess, a puddle under his palms.

He won't admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but Aemond actually likes when you're rough with him. Bite him hard, scratch him up - he especially likes if you grab and pull his hair untill it stings.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Aemond has his fair share of sleeping around, but his adventures are no match to his brother's reputation. In fact, Aegon was the one who arranged his little brother's induction into manhood, hiring the most luxurious whores of King's Landing.

Because he never slept with anyone who would have even slightly interested him in anything other than carnal pleasure, Aemond didn't feel the need to learn how to give besides taking what he wants.

With you on the horizon Aemond's view on sex changed completley; the prince wants to make someone else happy and content other than himself, wants you to feel the most pleasurable nights he can give you, he wants you to know that he would do many, and more things in order to show you his love for you. Aemond is a quick learner - usually he picks things up quite quickly after his quiet and attentive examinations. Sometimes he only needs to hear your voice, watch your expression or body to know what he does right, but he's more than happy when you vocalize your needs towards him.

F = Favourite position

After trying many, he came to the conclusion that his favorites are where he has most of the control over your body, where he can have the most of you in his hands, against his body.

When he drives into you from behind, he sneaks one hand up your spine to hold your nape, pushing your upper down down to the soft bed, his other gently holds your belly, feeling himself under his palm and your skin.

If he's in a softer mood Aemond likes it when you straddle him while he's sitting, hands pressing into the soft flesh of your hips as he guides your motions, face buried into your neck.

But he's not picky, he will have you anyhow, as it happens in the heat of the moment – picking you up against the wall; your legs hooked on his shoulders; or when he fuck you from behind, as you lay on your side.

G = Goofy (are they serious in the moment? are they goofy?)

Aemond tends to lean into the serious category during love making, usually he's not much of a talker, rather listens to your moans and pants, smirking to himself. You can make out a good laugh off him though, if you like to be playful in bed, he won't stop you; in fact he will smile and chuckle alongside you– and his lovestruck, hazy smile is both the rarest and the most beautiful he can give someone.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Thanks to his Targ genes Aemond isn't very hairy…anywhere. His silver hair slightly darker on his body, rather blond than white, but still – because of the color, his hair isn't very noticeable, it fades into his pale skin. He keeps his lower body hair groomed, after all a prince needs to be perfect everywhere, no matter who sees him, the only thing Aemond doesn't touch is his happy tail. He thinks it's suits him, makes him look more roguish –and he knows the ladies love that.

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in bed?)

It might come as a surprise but normally Aemond is rather gentle with you – finally he can be vulnerable with someone, he can show his feelings and share it without any comments on them. He likes to take his time, softly caressing every inch of your skin, savouring the feeling of your warmth against his body. He knows while he's of royal blood, people fear and avoid him, only believing the rumours about him, so when a person comes in his way, who can see into his walls, who doesn't judge or depict him as the evil villain, he gets hopeful that there's finally someone who would love a beast like him, but feels fear as well, for what if you will betray his trust and hurt his feeling – after all he has been hurt before too many times.

J = Jack off (how often do they masturbate)

Aemond is very stern and precise. Growing up beside his brother he wants to be anything that his brother isn't – and this includes self-discipline. Aemond has little to no time to think about his pleasures during the day, training and lessons fill his time. Being a prince doesn't come only with privileges and advantages- Aemond has to fulfill the duties of his rank, and that of a noble prince. His mind usually circles around the responsibility towards his house, his family, the lustful thought would only come late in the velvet darkness of the night, when he feels alone and abandoned the most. He misses your soft touch, your adoring looks, your voice.

On those nights, when he cannot have his embrace in your form, Aemond pictures you in the room; beautiful and desirable making him forget everything with your lips around him as he pulls out his cock.

He doesn't do that often, only when the need desperately calls him, and the empty, missing feeling in his chest is greater afterwards.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aemond is a complex man, and while he's gentle and sweet with you it wouldn't necessarily exclude that he likes to go out of the ways of the "traditional" way of love making.

He loves when he can bring some roughness into play: ropes, playful swaps over your bottom, his hand lightly over your throat - just enough to feel your quickening pulse, and your heavy swallowing. When he's carried away Aemond tends to bite anywhere he can reach that tends to leave marks on your skin for the next day – but he's quick to soothe the ache with kisses, caressing the marks afterwards.

He may have a slight exhibition kink – the thought, and possibility of someone catching the two of you; seeing the prince doing as he pleases, what he pleases with whoever he wants to makes his mind wander to naughtier thoughts than he usually would.

L = Location (favourite place to do the do)

Aemond likes to take you to adventures outside of the comfort and privacy of his room. He wouldn't want you to get caught in the Red Keep only because, even thought he wouldn't mind if a servant or lord could discover you two in scandalous actions, Aemond would be mortified if one of his family members caught sight of him fucking someone.

On the other hand, when the One Eyed Prince knows none of his relatives walk around, he will take you in the gardens or even stables. He's not opposed to going to your chambers either, no one would dare to say anything when you walk in with Aemond Targaryen on your side.

M = Motivation (what turns them on?)

Aemond's drive is very spontaneous and unpredictable, as difficult to guess as his mood around others. You can see the most organized, stoic and nonchalant expression on his face, yet inside he's burning for you to touch and take apart; only his eye would tell him – it's as attentive as a hawk's, piercing you to your seat, if he cold undress you with only with looking, his violet orb would have made you bare, skin heated in front of the whole court.

You can awaken his desire with almost anything – your bold and cheeky behaviour towards the pragmatic and hierarchical old lord, the way you hold yourself in front of others - like a true lady, proud and majestic.

If you happen to know how to wield a sword or bow by any chance, get ready for him, because Aemond will be on you in no time if he can, and if you challenge him for a duel, sparring or contest, your night will be hot and intense.

N = No (something they won’t do, turn offs)

As demanding and cocky- Aemond would never hurt you, put you at risk or make you uncomfortable. It's a surprise, nobody would conclude it, but out of the three brothers, Aemond is the most gentle and polite with women. He's not cruel to anyone for no reason, and he knows how much worth a woman has - witnessing his mother's acts towards her children and family day after day - and all ladies should be treated with respect. Even so with his love, the woman who happened to be there for him and loves him unconditionally as he is.

He brings up many things in the bedroom, he can act rather unconventional but as soon as he hears or sees your opposition he stops, because first and foremost Aemond is there for your heart, your soul, how you treat him and the pleasures of the flesh comes after that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

It really depends on his mood – if he's tense, angry or had an unpleasant day at court he would prefer you to help him ease his mind, to get rid of the clouds in his mind. He practically falls apart under your touch. If you want to see the most vulnerable Aemond, who puts out all his heart and emotions just for you; wrap your lips around his cock, make him go dizzy, word incomprehensible, mind dulled with the sensation of your mouth. He will mumble the sweetest compliments, confess all his feelings for you, praise you to the skies.

As for you, Aemond is generous and will pay you back ten times better for going down at him. One of his favorite things to do with you is to make you scream his name while he only uses his mouth on you, eating you out like a starved man. He can get a bit rough- teasing, with overstimulating you; drawing out orgasm after another until you're a mess below him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual)

Aemond usually changes his pace while he fuck you, it's all in his teasing attempts – picking up a rough pace, so demanding and impatient that you'll see start, only to slow down almost barely moving, making you whine for more.

In more romantic and sensual moments he really takes his time savouring all of you, memorizing how the two of you feel together as one, never parting from now on.

Q = Quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often, etc)

Aemond loves them, the more of you he can have, the better. If you're away from the Red Keep he's more bold to express himself, more ready to be there for and with you because he just can't get enough of you. It makes him go crazy when he can have you in a hurry, cautious of your surroundings for anyone passing by, it excites him. Aemond likes the bonus he gets afterwards – your flushed, meek expressions, acting all shy from him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

He's ready to experiment and find out new ways of lovemaking if it means that it can strengthen your bond with him. Aemond is all about risks, jumping into them head first. If you're in the picture of those risks, he will tone down his boldness, making sure you're safe and content, only then pursuing his curiosity.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

He has the blood of the dragon in himself, fire and blood in his veins– will go many rounds even on an average day, with shorter or longer pauses. If he's pent up, excited or longing, or Aemond was away for a longer time, he will make sure to make up for it to you- and to himself.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on their partners or themselves?)

Aemond likes leather, and ropes – it's almost predictable coming from his favorite black leather clothes; using blindfold on you to make the sensations more intense, he's all for the extremes if that makes the experience better and memorable. Of course he respects your wishes, and will tell his intentions, and wishes right away, going with only the things you accepted.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Aemond is a big tease inside- and out of the bedroom. He will do anything to make you go crazy for and from him, edging and teasing you until you're on the same level of intensity as he is. You can try to get back at him, but it will never be a winning game, Aemond just can't let anyone out-sass him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's usually quiet and reversed around others, even with you, he's not much of a conversationalist. Aemond rather expresses himself in his actions and touch.

In the bedroom he can get a bit more talkative though– if he can't control himself anymore Aemond can get pretty chatty. At first you hear only grunt, humms, chuckles and groans but later if his mind is fogged by the pleasure, a few soft moans will slip through his lips, panting and murmuring sweet nothing to you.

W = Wild card (random headcanon)

He will die with his little secret, rather than to tell it to anyone- even to you- but Aemond wants to take you for a ride on Vhagar's back, you sitting in front of him, his arms securely around you as he fingers you on the saddle. He would go crazy for his two favorite activities to happen at once – riding the largest and oldest beast among all dragons, and making you chant his name as he makes you come.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aemond is handsome, tall and regal, a true valyrian. He's a lenghty man- 16 cm with just the right amount of grifh.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His dragon blood keeps him hot and bothered, ready for everything; his sex drive is above avarage. If he has the time and opportunity he will have you at least twice a day. Aside from sex, Aemond generally likes to be around you, to see you, graze his hand over yours, to remind himself he has you, he has someone who is there for him in everythinf.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It's difficult for him to fall asleep afterwards; although his body feels drained and tired, his mind circles around too many things to grasp at once, wild thoughts keep him awake at night. Luckily he doesn't need that much sleep, and at least he has your soft and lovely form beside him, arms draping over you to keep you against his body during the night.

#house of the dragon #hotd #the house of the dragon #asoiaf #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #my writing

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