hi can I get a req of Aphelios protecting/comforting a reader who has past sexual trauma? In a similar vein to your sett x reader with the abusive bf where he gets all protective (although he would also focus on making you feel comfortable and safe obvs), and angry at the mere thought of someone hurting you like that, I love seeing the idea of aphelios getting all angry and protective over his lover (when he's usually all calm and collected) thanks!
It was quite a challenging theme, and I loved the concept! I was afraid of straying from the theme, becoming too exaggerated, or anything like that, since the topic is a delicate subject. So if anything feels offensive or out of tone — especially to someone who has experienced something like this or has seen someone go through it — please let me know!But with what I have here, I truly hope it turned out to your liking. Enjoy the reading and take good care of yourself.
Aphelios - protecting/comforting a reader who has past sexual trauma (long-shot)
❈ Warnings: sensitive content; although in an indirect and subjective way, mention of sexual abuse — while remaining SFW, it may be triggering for some people. Also mention of death and violence.
❈ Words: ~ 1600
Oh, and I usually use (__) to indicate the space where you can add your name — or whichever name you prefer.
Enjoy your reading! And if you enjoy this, consider liking, reblogging, or leaving a comment ❤️
≫ Masterlist
Aphelios wouldn’t suspect at first, even though some details in your behavior made him furrow his brows.
Naturally, things between you were more restrained — and Aphelios liked it that way. He himself thought you were simply more shy or reserved, but he was never in a hurry and never wanted to change anything about you — he had always loved you exactly as you were. Whenever needed, Aphelios moved slowly with you, and whatever little you managed to give him was valued as if it were a gift from the moon itself.
Until that late afternoon, hours before Aphelios’ next mission, when your defenses lowered, surrendered by the trust his touches had been earning from you. Of course, you two had never moved toward that kind of intimacy before, but this time passion managed to cloud both your reason, letting heated emotion guide the rhythm of your touches and the intensity of your desires.
However, it couldn’t lull the traumatic scar in your spirit to sleep; when Aphelios guided his hand to the waistband of your pants, a surge of self-protection shot through your body like electricity, burning the passion before it could be fulfilled, bringing flashes of memories, invading your mind like shards trying to cut you from the inside out.
Suddenly you pulled away to the other side of the bed, leaving Aphelios confused and frozen in place.
Had he done something wrong? Had he let himself get carried away and hurt you unintentionally? Had he done something you disliked that much?
The look he gives you is anything but condemning; it is worried. Aphelios notices how your chest rises and falls faster from your quick breathing — and he knows that isn’t a consequence of the moment you were having, because your expression looked frightened and ashamed, as if caught about to commit a crime; he notices how you wrap your arms around your abdomen and grip the hem of your shirt, as if suddenly sensing a threat that wanted to invade you and…
When the pieces begin to fit together, Aphelios feels his blood run cold.
The silence that follows makes your discomfort clear; even though you try to smile and hide it, Aphelios can’t be fooled: something more serious happened before you met.
You try to leave, giving an excuse about needing the bathroom. He holds your wrist loosely enough for you to decide to go if you wanted, but firmly enough to convey that he wanted to face it.
— Phel, please, don’t make me talk about it.” you sobbed, the tremor in your voice making his heart tremble too. “I just… I just want to move on and never again…
But a simple stroke of his thumb against your wrist was enough to silence you. A gentle, understanding look to make you hesitate. And an embrace to make you fall apart.
(……………….)
From behind the wall, hidden by shadows, Aphelios had his target in Calibrum’s sights for some time. In tense, worried silence, Alune waited for the shot that would end the mission.
The shot never came.
— Phel?
The ethereal voice sounded in Aphelios’ spirit the instant he lowered the weapon.
Your restrained sobs and tears; the scars on your soul; the scenes of violence and abuse Aphelios’ imagination formed as you told him fragments of your past. He simply couldn’t take it out of his mind, couldn’t forgive what left you marked like that.
He looked once more at the Solari guard invading Lunari lands; he realized he wasn’t able to shoot because, for the first time, his heart wasn’t there, wasn’t in the mission: the target he truly wanted had another name, another face, and was an invader of another sacred ground for Aphelios.
He would not let the one who did that to you go unpunished.
Clouds hid the moonlight the moment Aphelios’ expression darkened with that decision.
His sister’s spirit stirred his, and the poison seemed to burn his throat as he tried to ignore her; the internal war clouded Aphelios’ thoughts just as the clouds covered the night sky.
The beam of white light in that storm was Alune’s reason:
— Brother, your mission is not this man. It is (_); do not let anger divert your focus now.
The first raindrops fell; the Solari guards began dismantling the camp.
Aphelios tightened his grip on Calibrum’s barrel, seeking a focus there so his will could choose which side of the war to take.
— The moon placed these Solari as an obstacle, Phel, not a diversion. I hear in it no desire to place itself between you and (___).
That was enough; Alune was right. Aphelios couldn’t take out his anger on the one responsible for the pain of the woman he loved, but he could redirect that hungry ember toward the task assigned by the moon.
He let Calibrum break into lunar dust, walking out from his hiding place; the rain wasn’t strong enough to muffle his steps, and he immediately drew the attention of the five Solari.
Tense seconds followed as the warriors recognized Aphelios as a Lunari enemy. They formed into battle stance — the poison in Aphelios’ throat burned stronger. They raised their weapons and shouted through the rain for Aphelios to surrender — your frightened look, when you thought he might hurt you that way too, served as fuel for Aphelios’ boiling fury.
Just as the Solari ordered, Aphelios raised his hands — but only so Infernum could materialize, loaded with all the energy the moon could give him.
(………………)
Aphelios slowly opened the bedroom door even knowing you weren’t asleep — even though it was past three in the morning.
— I thought today’s mission would last two days.
You spoke without turning toward him, sitting on the bay window seat, letting the cold raise goosebumps on your skin and the faint moonlight illuminate the room; not that such low light bothered Aphelios. Still, unhurried and almost silent, he approached to close the window, drawing a sigh from you, but nothing beyond that.
He doesn’t know exactly what to do; if it were possible to erase that distant, fixed expression from your face with a single shot from one of his weapons, Aphelios would do it that very night. It was agonizing to feel so capable before the thing he most wished he could fix.
Aphelios didn’t regret listening to Alune. You were far more important than the man who caused that to you. Being with you carried far more weight than trying to erase a ghost that would always follow you in your past — whether he was alive today or not.
With a quiet sigh of resolve, he brushed your shoulder as he passed, taking a blanket from the wardrobe and bringing it back to place over your shoulders. You accepted the gesture, curling further into the soft fabric, leaning against the window and its cold glass, letting the journal and pen fall into your lap — tools you had been trying to use to find comfort in words during Aphelios’ absences.
Aphelios sat in front of you and looked outside with you, his hand absentmindedly playing with the edge of the blanket covering your feet on the cushioned bench, nervous and undecided; he wanted to pull you close and be your support himself, but he didn’t want to pressure you or make you feel suffocated — much less pushed. Unfortunately, none of his lifelong training prepared him to deal with the gravity of a wounded heart like yours.
The silence and the wind against the window had been filling the space between you for so long that he startled and immediately turned toward you at the sound of your low, hesitant voice:
— I never had the courage to talk about this because… Many times, I feel… I feel dirty after everything that happened. And I was… I still am afraid that you might also…
His fingers closed gently around your ankle. Aphelios’ expression tightened enough to make it seem as if he were drinking mission poison again. He could withstand pressure and tension — his entire life demanded it — but there was a limit to what Aphelios could endure, and hearing you even consider that kind of feeling from him… it was too absurd for him to let become words.
Before you could continue or withdraw completely, Aphelios took the journal from your lap. You let out a small protest of surprise, but he quickly turned to the page you had been writing on, not reading a single word you had written. On the blank page, his flowing, almost italic handwriting formed a single sentence in the middle:
“Nothing changed in what I feel for you.”
So simple. So direct. Practically without the sweetness expected from a boyfriend trying to be the comforting romantic. But it was so, so real — your eyes filled with tears before you could reorganize the emotions tangled inside you. Just as uncontrollable were the sobs that followed, spilling with the force of water released from a broken dam after years and years of being suppressed and stored.
You leaned forward and Aphelios didn’t hesitate to anchor you, letting you cry against his shoulder while he stroked your back with slow, continuous, steady motions.
When you pressed closer against his chest, he lowered his head nearer to your neck, closing his eyes and holding you tighter, as if trying to pull your pain into himself so it would be felt in his heart, not yours.
Aphelios knew that nothing in the world that could be said would lessen your pain — nothing would erase what happened. All he could truly offer was the silent promise that with every step from then on he would be with you, never looking away from the scar you carried, but certain he would love and kiss even your pain.
Inspiration: I mean….listen can anyone blame me? Also omg can y’all believe we’ve had Heartsteel for almost an entire YEAR?? 😲😲😲 WILD!! While it definitely doesn’t seem like Riot is going to release any musicverse stuff this year during worlds (because Arcane), it has been fun to look back and see how much joy Heartsteel has brought in the last (almost) 12 months!
Genre: Headcanons
Type: Fluff fluff
Gender: Gender Neutral reader!
TW: Swearing because I swear. Otherwise this is pretty damn fluffy. 💙
Aphelios
While Aphelios isn’t the most physically expressive member of Heartsteel (unless he’s really tired/tipsy), one thing you can absolutey count on affection-wise is routine good morning, have-a-good-day, welcome-home, and good night kisses.
And if for some reason any of those don’t happen, Phel’s entire day/night is just thrown off. Honestly he kinda depends on them.
Definitely one of the more reserved members of Heartsteel (unless he’s with Heartsteel then he’s a prankster lol), so I feel like kissing wouldn’t be a super big thing for him?
Like of course Aphelios enjoys kissing you, and he loves seeing how happy you get when he surprises you with a drive-by kiss, but he just has other main ways of showing you affection.
But when he does kiss you? Oh my goodness it’s just god damn delightful. He’s primarily very sweet and gentle when he kisses you. Now if you lead him to kiss otherwise then he will absolutely follow that. He just wants to be respectful of what you want. (But don’t get it twisted, this man has a lot of passion.)
Loves giving you forehead and cheek kisses. Some of Phel’s favorite moments have been when you’re quietly settled in his lap while he works in his studio, and he just occasionally gives you kisses. Having that sort of access to you, his favorite person, makes him so happy. Especially as he works.
And on him? I mean he loves it best when you kiss his lips but an easy way to turn his cheeks pink is to kiss them or kiss his forehead. He just finds the gesture incredibly sweet.
Again, Aphelios is reserved with most people, so PDA isn’t a huge thing for him. But he’ll occasionally kiss your temple or something like that in public if the scenario calls for that level of affection.
Kisses with Aphelios would be just lovely! Just an overall very sweet and pleasant experience!
Ezreal
Playful. Kisses. Kisses with Ezreal will have you giggling and kicking your feet a bit.
(Like of course Ez isn’t just giving you playful kisses but it would really be a defining characteristic of being with him/having him as your partner.)
He just loves to give you butterflies and will continue to try and do so throughout your relationship, and kisses are a way to do that. (Remember his giving love language is physical touch.)
Ezreal loves to bunny kiss you, his face lighting up as you giggle and close your eyes. He just finds you so fucking cute. Bunny kisses are extremely common in your relationship
Loves to follow up any other type of kiss with just a bunch of pecks littered all over your face, always ending with one more longer kiss on your lips for good measure.
Ez loves when you kiss his cheeks, his forehead, or his neck. Literally kissing any of those places is the absolute quickest way to see this man melt into a puddle. (Great strategy if he’s extremely wound up or stressed about something. Like the fastest way to calm him down/soothe him.)
If your relationship is public he’s down for some quick kisses in public. Like maybe not a full blown make out session or anything, but he’s always happy to kiss your cheek and doesn’t mind giving you a peck.
He’s totally the type to play a game where you try and guess the flavor of lip balm the other person is wearing by kissing them. No doubt. And it will be so cute and funny and fun. You two are even keeping score. And trust that Ezreal has definitely been writing down his favorite types that you wear, and your favorite types that he wears.
Honestly 1000/10, kissing Ezreal would be so fun and sweet and just a wonderful time. A+++++
Kayn
Shieda Kayn is the type of guy who would kiss you absolutely breathless every single time if you let him.
Kayn. LOVES. Kissing. You.
Doesn’t matter how small of a kiss you intended it to be. If Ezreal’s goal is to give you butterflies, Kayn’s goal is to get you to do the leg pop (IYKYK). And he’s damn successful at his goal.
Something about him just seems so very deeply passionate (not saying the other HS members aren’t. They absolutely are. But Kayn is just….*nods*).
Absolutely the type to do “drive-by” kisses. Like if he’s walking from one room to another and he happens to go past you? Oh no question you’re getting a kiss someway somehow.
His favorite place to kiss you is definitely your lips. He is obsessed with your lips. He can hardly ever kiss you without gently rubbing his thumb over them or playfully nipping them, enjoying the blush it brings to your face.
Kayn loves when you kiss his lips the most (obviously), but he also really does love when you kiss his cheek or his forehead, especially if he’s being vulnerable with you.
And if your relationship with him is public? He literally has no shame. He will kiss you as much as you want in public, not caring about stupid paparazzi or anything like that. In his eyes, they can get over it. You’re his partner damnit. And he wants to give you affection.
Your kisses keep Kayn going, so feel free to give him as many as you want.
K’Sante
K’Sante loves to kiss you, of course, but you know what else he loves? Being a damn TEASE.
Y’all gotta remember K’Sante is like 6’4”. And he’s got a great sense of humor, so he’d absolutely be super teasing and very playful when it comes to kissing you, making you giggle/laugh/playfully pout.
Will absolutely make you get on your tip toes to give him a kiss. (And will let you whine for a little bit before he finally bends down and kisses you.)
Hey it’s fine though, if you jump on K’Sante and koala hug him, he’ll give in pretty quickly, just chuckling and grinning widely.
Because of his height, K’Sante has some (maybe predictable) specific favorite spots he likes to kiss. He loves kissing your forehead and the top of your head.
He’d just gently pull you against him, bend down slightly and bam! Cute head kiss. (God forehead kisses are ELITE.)
He loves when you kiss his cheek or his jaw, especially after he’s had a really long day and is cuddling with you. That’s the easiest way to really ground him and melt away anything that bothers him.
If your relationship with K’Sante is public, he’s not like full blown making out with you in the streets, but he’s also not ashamed or afraid to give you some affection in public. He loves showing everyone that you’re his and he’s yours. There are quite a few pap photos where he has an arm around you, gently pulling you to his side while he smiles and gives you a gentle kiss.
K’Sante is just a giant playful guy who has no problem showing his partner the affection they want (and he isn’t afraid to have fun with it either).
Sett
Sett? Settrigh? Ooooooh here we go. An absolute gentleman and a sweetheart with a lovely modern sort of twist.
He’s kind of a combo of Ezreal, Kayn, and K’Sante, honestly. Tall as fuck and will absolutely use that to his advantage to teasingly/playfully kiss your forehead (before grinning and kissing your lips when he sees your pout). But make no mistake he’s very very passionate when it comes to you and he holds a certain amount of pride from being able to render you a bit dazed just from a kiss.
Again, due to his height, forehead kisses and top-of-head kisses are extremely common from Sett. But he also loves to playfully kiss the tip of your nose (and gently nip).
Sett is also a fan of leaning down and nipping your shoulder/neck when he hugs you from behind and just buries his face against your neck.
In general he’s just a big fan of adding on some gentle nips with his kisses.
The type to gently cradle your cheeks as he kisses you. Typically all your kisses with Sett start off gentle (he’s such a gentle giant with you) and then will escalate accordingly depending on the situation.
Sett also loves showing off his physique and picking you up as he kisses you, loving the little happy reactions you have. And of course he’d never ever let you fall. That’s such a given.
While most of your extremely intimate kisses happen behind closed doors, Sett definitely isn’t afraid to kiss you in public. He’s proud to show off the fact that he’s your partner. He’s so happy to be yours.
Just a phenomenal kisser. Like what a lucky fucking duck you are, omg.
Yone
Ah Yone (*sighs happily*). Another gentleman when it comes to kissing you, for sure.
Definitely in a different way than Sett. Yone is a lot more reserved than Sett, and that reservation that will impact areas of your relationship differently.
Not to say he doesn’t enjoy kissing you/getting kisses from you! He ABSOLUTELY does. Getting kisses from you is practically guaranteed to make Yone smile. Especially when he’s working himself ragged. Sometimes your kisses are what keep him going/one of the few ways to get him to bed. (You’ve definitely been called in by Aphelios/Alune as the “big guns” to help drag Yone out of his studio at 3am.)
Even though he does love kissing you, most of your kisses will be done away from prying eyes. (He’s sick of hearing Ezreal and Kayn snicker when he lingers just a fraction of a second too long while giving you a kiss before a concert.)
He is willing to give you a forehead or cheek kiss in public though if the situation calls for it. (And even if he’s not making out with you, lol, he finds other more subtle ways to show off you’re his.)
As mentioned, he does love giving forehead and cheek kisses, but of course he’s not going to say no to kissing your lips. He just likes the gentleness of forehead and cheek kisses. But you know what else he does? He loves bringing your entwined hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles. (And that is something he’ll do in public on occasion.)
And hey, just because most kissing with Yone is done in a more private setting, that’s not a bad thing whatsoever. Because Yone is PASSIONATE. Just more-so a quiet passion. It’s why he makes music. It’s an outlet for that passion.
Yone is a phenomenal listener, but he’s definitely a partner who, if he notices you working yourself into a tizzy while talking about something, will gently shut you up with a kiss. (The first time he did it, you were stunned silent and just blinked at him in surprise for a couple minutes which he found very funny.)
This reserved, fairly calm, 6’2” DJ absolutely knows how to make your heart beat faster, so enjoy!
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I know I’ve been a bit inconsistent as of late but I think things are starting to calm down. I have quite a few drafts in progress atm which is exciting!! 💙
I love this so much.
I am sorry to you and to everyone else with requests how long this has been taking me- but like I said I am going to get the ball rolling! Here is this one in (kind of) HC style :3
Here you go bb. I hope you enjoy <3
18+ MDNI~~
TW: squirting (obviously), sex, cum... I mean there's not much else to it. Fem! Reader (idk if that wasn't obvious, cuz squirting). AS ALWAYS ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK :3
Word Count: 309
Aphelios was shy at first.
Aphelios always gets absolutely flustered anytime you teased him. He can't stop thinking about eating you out, playing with your tits, or pounding with his cock until your pretty voice screams his name.
The first time the two of you went further than making out, the feeling of his long fingers plunging and out of your leaking cunt and his warm wet tongue stroking your clit had you in an abyss of ecstasy.
You were both surprise when you squirted all over him and the bed. You had never done that before.
It made you shy. It made Aphelios feral.
Thereafter he was insatiable. Basically begging you to let him get between your thighs with his tongue and long skilled fingers.
That initial incident, AKA the most insane orgasm you ever had, wasn't the last surprise. Once the two of you finally fucked, it was Phel's mission to feel your squirting and clenching around his cock, too.
It wasn't long after he angled your hips beneath him and placed his fingertips against your clit in a consistent rhythm that he felt you constricting around him.
Through your squinted pleasure filled eyes you could see him nodding at you, enticing you further with his eyebrows creased and bottom lip between his teeth.
The sight alone would of had you gushing, but seeing his frame shaking as if to stop himself from coming too soon made you feel even more in depth with the waves of pleasure that were washing over you. Soon enough, you were squirting so hard that he had to pull his cock out, just as he came all over the pretty face of your pussy.
Later on, he wrote to you on his phone while you cuddled in bed-
pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)
tw: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), possessive/obsessive behavior, somnophilia, object insertion, blood/violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms, kidnapping/imprisonment, implied forced relationship, unbalanced power dynamic, enemies to lovers vibe
notes: here it is besties. thank you all for being so patient with me. and thank you to all the lovelies who've commented/msgd me asking about it and wanting more. im just so glad to share my unhinged obsessions. i do have plans to make a third part, but again, could be a bit. so sorry ahhh.
You hadn’t realized you were stolen to sleep. Sobbing yourself into the veiled shadows of your mind in the arms of something—someone—so haunting. A damning surrender on your part. It was a miracle you had the pleasure of opening your eyes. When the moon crawler could have offered you death instead.
When your lashes winged wholly, the haze of a night-dark bedroom washed your sight. You breathed in your surroundings. The linen bed sheets beneath your fingertips, a worktable littered with dried herbs and vials, and a vaulted chest for storing valuables. A simple room one would toss a coin for a night at a common tavern.
With effort, you pulled yourself to your knees. The weight of clothes shifted against your body. Looking down, you pinched the fabric of a clean gown. And when a hair strand fell to your cheek, you caught the faintest scent of lavender and nightshade. Drifting your attention lower, a mild soreness welled between your legs, accounting for last night's debauchery. A reminder of an ache you could never wash away, no matter how much you scrubbed yourself raw. But even scrapping your skin till you bled from bone seemed a better feeling than this.
That thought alone made you pause in your observations and consider the only details that mattered.
Where were you and...
Where was he?
You crawled over to the side of the bed. Pressing your feet against the ground, something like cold iron grazed them. You reached through the dark and secured a dulled paring knife. Your gaze studied an apple not too far away, half peeled from the skin of its flesh. Dropped mid-serving, for whatever the reason was. Knife in hand, you tiptoed to the bedroom door and tried to pry it open. It shuddered against your touch—locked. It seemed the only way to escape was by key, and to your misfortune, you didn’t have to guess who had it in strict keeping.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A brush of cold licked across your nape. Turning towards the sound, there was another adjoining room. A washroom, perchance. You tightened your hold on the knife, and willed your bare feet forward, swallowing your thudding heart. You counted each step, pausing when a puddle glistened before the doorway. Dark in color and metallic in aroma, a shiver traced your spine as you stepped over it.
Under the door frame, your sight fell upon him, bare and slumped in a wooden bath. You stood still, not daring to flinch, in case he had his own knife hidden beneath the surface tension. When your presence hadn’t been acknowledged, you padded closer.
Examining him further, you noticed not a lick of a wound, scrape, or gash on his body. Nothing that would substantiate the splatter of blood you'd passed. Falling onto his face, the faintest shimmer stained the corners of his lips. You would’ve deemed him dead if it weren’t for the labored breaths and shivers of his body.
A saccharine taste of flowers sprang to the tip of your tongue.
Lowering yourself onto your knees, you brought the knife a near inch to his throat. You hadn’t noticed the slits of his eyes cracked open, branding you the moment you stepped in. Before you could jerk back, his hand leapt from the bath water. You winced when he took your wrist, expecting him to plunge the blade in your direction. Instead, he lulled his head to the side, and guided your hand to press the sharp edge against the skin of his neck.
“This angle is much better, isn’t it?” Aphelios stated rather than asked, his wet hair flowing like liquid night across his features. “You can stare deeply into the eyes of your enemy, and watch that insignificant light fade from them. Then, and only then, do you know they’re truly dead. If that's what you would like to do to me..." you held your breath and felt the blue of his veins beat against the blade. “Now’s your chance.”
Your hands trembled, his mortal essence flowing right at your fingertips. But the mere thought of relishing red-stained hands overwhelmed you with a bout of nausea, weakening your grasp at the hilt. Even if he deserved every bit of suffering, and for you to celebrate his undoing by a dull carving knife, it wasn’t who you were.
You refused to be anything like him.
“Strange. Not many Burning One’s would hesitate at the offer. It’s no wonder they locked you away in that sunlit temple.” He released your shaking hand and traced the outline of your face. “Far from the shadows they’ve cast down.”
“Don’t patronize me,” you seethed, tugging your chin away from his touch. He leaned back in the basin, his shoulders taut as he fought against a cough. You narrowed your lashes at a string of blood pouring from his lips. “It’s not my place to deliver your punishment, but your trial of judgment will come. It’s already apparent you’re paying for your transgressions. And I’m glad for it.”
Your words were false against your true sensibilities. Feeling foolish for your heart to ache with sympathy for him, a wretched murderer and lech. The wiser part of you screamed when you set aside the knife, took up a washcloth, and wiped at his mouth. A cord in his jaw tightened, and you noted a life-stealing grip at the tub's edge.
A trained reflex to wrap his fingers around your neck.
Had you been anyone else.
Had you been anyone else, you would’ve been flayed open across the altar. Had you been anyone else, the pathetic knife you threatened him with would be stuck heart deep between your breasts. Had you been anyone else, She would have commanded your sacrifice.
You banished the unwelcomed thought.
“The water’s freezing. How long have you let yourself sit here?” His lips merely mirrored a fine line at the question. Under your gaze, you watched another invisible ripple tighten the tethers of his muscles. You exhaled on a presumptive thought. “You can’t move. Can you?”
The black glass of his eyes stared at nothing, and said nothing. Then and there, that cold existence would rather suffer than utter a single word of admittance.
“Seems you like to keep quiet when it’s convenient for you.” You quipped, wringing out the washcloth with indignation. “No different from a child throwing a tantrum when it suits them. I should leave you here then. Let whatever you catch take you within a week’s time. It would save a lot of others the trouble.”
His face remained a blank sheet of ice, and you interpreted it as an invitation to do as you pleased. He’d given you the choice to take his life, after all. Now you understood he’d meant every word. Perhaps he even intended to pay a compliment. Not a bluff or jab at your softer nature, even after you had foolishly settled to spare him.
You banished the strange sentiment. Once you had found a way to get him to bed and asleep, you would scrounge the room for a key. Wherever he had chosen to hide it.
“Golden Sister, avert your light," you asked for pardon under your breath.
You drew up your hand, calling forth a kindle of golden sunlight. It pulsed and radiated with warmth, kissing the tips of your fingers. The glow of it illuminated your company’s features. That face of marble chipped at the corner of his eyes; a crack of unnerving reproach. When you guided your hand towards the pane of his chest, he ruefully shifted away.
You clicked your tongue. “You’ll let me freely cut your throat, but the moment I try to help, you want nothing to do with it. Either you hold still, or I reconsider your offer. Which one is it?”
He responded with a slowed and pained breath. When he leaned back, you pressed a palm to his sternum.
Closing your eyes, you concentrated on the ebb and flow of warm light reaching for him; through him. When you entered, dark shadows ripped and slashed against your magic. Sharper than daggers of ice, piercing hotter than any black flame. Sweat gathered at your temples. Furrowing your brows, you steeled your magic from shattering and concentrated your radiance. Gradually, the thrashing tendrils subdued into undulating wisps that languidly brushed across your presence.
“I can’t heal whatever sickness you’ve caused yourself. It's unfamiliar to me. And even if I could, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting to spend eternity with your false deity," you admitted, withdrawing. “But I should have eased the pain. Enough for you to manage from here and to bed.”
Without a word, and with what little strength he still possessed, he gripped the lip of the tub. You hooked an arm underneath his own, and his legs trembled as he rose from the bathwater. When he dragged his feet from the bath, he banked to catch himself on the wall with his hand. The unexpected sway almost swept your footing away. With luck, he managed to hold himself as you helped him stagger out of the washroom.
When he dropped onto the bed, the weight of him brought you to your knees beside him. You huffed, prying his arm away from the support of your shoulders. He made no effort to force you to lay with him. Thankfully, the soothing effects of your work made him pliable, gifting you a moment of safe assurance.
Your gaze roamed the softness that rounded his previously sharpened features. His brows rested light above his closed eyes, and his lashes long and airy curtained over the smooth contour of his cheeks. His face once devoid of color now brushed with a stroke of pink from your magic. If you hadn’t been the wiser, you would’ve believed him to be a completely different person.
Nothing like a weapon now.
You pulled yourself from your careless observations, remembering time was of the essence if you’d hope of escape. Turning away, ghostly fingertips graced the skin of your cheek. Your breath hitched. Drawn back, his black pearls peeked from their bed of lashes. His lips moved, but deft as the words were, you swore it was a mere breath in the night.
‘...thank you.’
Your heart constricted, abandoning you in a space stolen of thought, let alone a reply. To your horror, the squeeze of your chest wasn't entirely unpleasant. Still, you feared to linger on it, knowing it would sooner kill you if you’d let it. You consciously berated yourself to get away—hurry, hurry! But like a silent poison of its own kind, you suddenly felt weak in spirit. And to no one’s fault but of your own.
You had drained yourself dry by helping him.
Still in his touch, your body sank onto the bed next to him. He traced the contour of your neck, past the dip of your clavicle, down to the arc of your hip bones. Lingering there, he drew lazy circles against the fabric till it hitched at your waist. His fingers slipped beneath, brushing a hand against the bare skin of your waist. You trembled, weathering the cold bite of his touch. No better than prey submitting to a cruel yet ordained circumstance.
“I should have never…” you swallowed, remorse tightening your throat.
His hand paused—watching a glint of wetness stain your eyes—then pulled you in with devastating gentleness. Resting his brow at your breasts, he enveloped you in his arms, and curled himself bare between your legs. Holding you in an embrace that was more delicate than heartbreak, drawing out a shuddering breath from your lips.
For what seemed like an eternity, you laid there. Feigning death, praying for your eyes to never close again. Hoping to salvage the opportune moment to escape once he let go. But exhaustion was a beast that stalked your side and sank its fangs in the spots where he held you close. Paralyzing all your nerves till they went flak, dragging your body limp in his touch.
And your waning consciousness along with it.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Behind closed eyes, the world was dark. An unfeeling landscape where nothing else existed. A state you could find yourself clinging to for the rest of your days to come. If only you were lucky enough to stay. Like a match to your body, a flame curled and burned beneath your dampening skin. The scorch of it trailing the woods of your body. A fire in your blood snaking lower to feed the smoldering spit simmering in your belly.
You shuddered, twitched and bit softly at the bottom half of your lip. Long, devoted fingers cradled your waist as lips graced the lower parts of your stomach. The careful graze of teeth at your navel sent your eyelids fluttering, where a glaze of lingering sleep clouded your vision. Only after a few blinks did you bid the fog away, and woke to the sight of yourself.
The hem of your nightgown had been shelved above your swollen breasts, revealing nipples perked and coated wet with saliva. A sheen of sweat glistened like oil from mound to curve, and found the wicked Lunari man responsible for your state laid between your legs.
Your lips quivered, struggling to speak through the feverish qualities burning away at your flesh. You couldn’t even attempt to prop yourself up, let alone drag yourself away. Your body felt heavy and drunk off whatever pleasure it had thirsted for and drank without complaint.
“What are you…” you started, but your voice was too sticky. Too mumbly. Not even swallowing would help.
“I had a dream about your sunlight. That small, pleasant piece you shared with me last night.” He took pause, flitting his attention up from below, where his black slits narrowed with shameless intent. “I wondered what it would taste like.”
“N–Not down there,” you pleaded out a half-choked whimper. “It isn’t clean.”
“Isn’t it, though? Have you considered how you might’ve bathed last night? Wondered who could have done it for you.” He trailed feather-light kisses down your inner thigh, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. “Washed your hair. Washed your body. And...” he tempted lower and lower, until the heat of his breaths warmed your folds, making them bloom with ache. "Everything in between.”
“Stop saying things like that. Stop doing things like this,” you said, wanting to speak them as commands. But the crack in your voice watered your tone down to unconsolable weeping. Knowing you had made a terrible mistake. Knowing no amount of your good nature would spare the heat of his mouth from teasing you relentlessly. Knowing you had no control as your cunt dripped itself into a pitiful mess. You tossed your head back and forth, desperate to hide the humiliation of your face in the throws of bedding.
“Please.” Your chest heaved and shuddered. “Just let me go.”
"Fated or not, you’ve chosen to stay. First, when you decided not to kill me in my most vulnerable state.” He eased the flat of his tongue over your leaking entrance, dragging it upward to flick your clit. Your hands clasped over your mouth to stifle the degrading noises that dared to leave. “Second, when you helped me to bed and kept it warm with me. And third—”
He plunged the length of his tongue into you, reaching for your center. You cried out through the gaps in your fingers, feeling something clenched deep inside you—and it wasn't his tongue. It was impeccably hard, with a distinct weld, shape and curve. The tip of his tongue swirled and twisted around it, coaxing it to rub along your sensitive ridges on the way out. When it revealed itself at your entrance, he took the object with a bite. A clink of metal between his teeth. With a shuddering gasp, your hips bucked once he slipped it past the squeeze of your hole.
“Even though you held the key inside you this whole time,” he fingered the iron loop and slid it across his tongue. You flushed when he consumed your gaze below. “You waited for me to take it.”
Your head and heart pounded with blood. When…when did he…?
Before you could object, his mouth reclaimed all your ripe and swollen parts. Graciously kissing, licking, feasting between your legs. Your hips jolted as you squirmed against him. His hands gripped to dimple the softness of your thighs, parting you open like two delicate and succulent halves of a fruit.
Your eyes clenched shut, trying to forge the words that would stop him. But none existed in the pleasurable thickness that drowned your senses, possessing your hips to meet him at each languid lap. Turning your saliva into hot syrup in your mouth. Muddling any conceivable words down to moanful whines, sloppy whimpers, and broken utterances. Completely helpless as every stroke of his tongue made a creamy reduction of your insides, threatening to spill over every edge.
Your nails twisted into the bedsheets, and you broke for breath. “Can’t—n’ more—“
The moon devil interpreted your incoherent pleas for mercy as undying praise. Encouraging him to devour you with the passion of a starved man who’d forsaken each meal before you. Listening to a hunger that told him you would be his last, and echoed a fear that it would never be enough.
One last brush of his tongue and he clasped his lips around the bud, suckling on its throbbing plumpness.
A burst of pressure had you coming undone onto his mouth. Wails ripped through the air as your back careened into that awful crescent shape for him. You reached to push him away, but he’d caught your hands before you could lay a finger. You choked out a sob when he tacked your writhing wrists against the bed and continued to worship your taste with his mouth. Savoring every part of your quivers and cries, down to the very last gushing drop induced from your spasms.
When he had taken his last sip of pleasure, he rose from between your thighs to loom above you.
“You’re exactly as I imagined you would taste.” His voice was a thin whisper on his glistening lips. As if he hadn’t even wanted the walls to hear. A secret only he would ever know, and for you to be the only one he’d share it with.
He bent forward, panting with an unsatiated appetite against your mouth. “Sweet and warm.”
He took your lips, letting you drink up your arousal. A heavy, generous pour. The dewy tang of yourself flushed your face and neck with color. Your heart raced, gasping for breaths in a blur of moans and kisses.
Tears of utter shame and frustration dotted your lashes, till they fell over in heaps. Yet, even your tears didn’t go to waste. He traced his tongue over your flushed and burning cheeks, catching every bit like spilled honey. And all you could do was lay there, unable to escape his sensual gilded cage. All the while hating yourself for wanting his mouth all over you—wanting to know how it’d feel claiming every inch of skin.
❈ Content: A silly Heartsteel idea that turned into Minecraft fluff 💗
Oh, and I usually use (__) to indicate the space where you can add your name — or whichever name you prefer.
Enjoy your reading! And if you enjoy this, consider liking, reblogging, or leaving a comment — it helps more than you know. ❤️
≫ Masterlist ≫ Part 2 (coming soon)
────≫ Aphelios
❈ Words: ~ 400
🌖 He’ll gather every block you need; no complaints, even after spending nearly an hour filling his inventory with full stacks of pink wood.
🌖 He prefers playing with you, and if he plays so often, it’s because you’re playing alongside him.
🌖He builds his house so close to yours that they practically become a single home—and the tips of his ears turn red when you place your bed next to his:
— Now we’re living together!
Oh, man. The boy buries his face into the high collar of his coat, and Alune is laughing about it in the background.
🌖 The only weapon he uses is a bow and arrow, and only when strictly necessary; whenever possible, he always prefers to sleep and reset the day rather than killing monsters randomly and without a clear reason. He also has a chest full of every type of arrow—and he’s fascinated when you introduce him to a mod with arrows that have different effects not found in the base game.
🌖 Aphelios seems to have something against using chat, and also appears to forget that he’s in a voice call with the group; but I guarantee that every sign scattered around the base will be some important communication from Aphelios.
🌖 He has a little notebook with a quill and black ink that he crafted solely to write down the coordinates of everything he deemed useful—especially villages, portals, and biomes; or anything else he believes you might need later on.
🌖 He understands the basics of redstone because Yone taught him, and makes sure you have basic iron and food farms.
As for food specifically, he’s always making sure you have enough cooked meals in your inventory.
🌖 He makes the best decorations and manages to give an ethereal feel to everything he builds.
🌖 Sometimes you’ll find him online alone on the server: Aphelios is organizing the chests he shares with you. And yes, he shows no expression, but he’s completely enchanted by the update that added mini copper golems; you’ll catch him standing there sometimes, just watching the little figures working back and forth in a nearly contemplative silence.
— Hm… Phel? Don’t you think there are already too many golems at the base?”
— …
*places the Carved Pumpkin on top of a copper block*
— Yeah, no. Apparently we didn’t have enough yet.
🌖 He definitely tamed a white cat and used the (only) nametag you had to name the little thing “Moon.”
────≫ Ezreal
❈ Words: ~ 540
🫰 He died to a creeper in the first 20 minutes of the game.
Then to a skeleton.
Then to a zombie.
Finally, when a baby zombie riding a chicken killed him twice in a row, he gave up:
— This crappy terrain isn’t generating right. How about we just go to sleep already?
🫰 Definitely the explorer-type player who leaves your base with a boat and a dream—and comes back days (hours) later with only half a heart left and an inventory full of treasure items and loot from chests. And of course, he gives you anything you ask for or need.
🫰 The first one to find a Woodland Mansion; he managed to sneak through the whole place without dying.
🫰 His favorite item is the Totem of Undying, and the disappointment is very noticeable if either you or he end up breaking yours by dying. In fact, Ezreal keeps his like a personal treasure; he’d rather die and lose all his items than risk losing the Totem.
🫰 He abhors the idea of using any commands that make exploration easier. Seriously. Ezreal considers it a personal offense.
— What? What do you mean ‘keepInventory’? You don’t want me to actually play, (_), is that it?
🫰 At a more advanced stage of the game, you both start noticing diamonds disappearing from each other’s chests. Coincidentally, Ezreal shows up shortly after wearing full diamond armor.
Coincidentally.
— What? I was just exploring around.
🫰 He doesn’t throw away any of the maps and is building a giant map wall on one of the walls.
🫰 Lots of screaming while playing: monsters chasing him, sleepless nights in-game with Phantoms attacking nonstop, falling off cliffs and into caves because he didn’t stop to watch where he was going… Your role as his duo and gaming partner is to keep him alive in situations like these—and that’s how you ended up learning more about fighting than building.
🫰 Still, no one understands how Ezreal manages to come out alive from the caves and the Nether he explores. I mean—okay, he has the best weapon and armor he crafted using items taken from your chests (an accusation he denies to this day)—but even so, there was a swarm of enemies chasing him straight toward a sea of lava… How did Ezreal manage to reach your base having lost only a few hearts and with all his items still in his inventory?
🫰 No one was with him to witness it, but I guarantee Ezreal never stops bragging about it, making it very clear to everyone in the group just how lucky you are to have, as your boyfriend, the best Minecraft explorer that game has ever seen.
(Kayn once lost his patience, punched Ezreal after that speech, and knocked him off a cliff. No one in the group scolded him for it.)
────≫ Kayn
❈ Words: ~ 360
💙 He’s annoyed that there’s no way to use a scythe to fight in the game.
❤️ He doesn’t seem to care much about the game—until he finds out that Yone defeated the Ender Dragon by himself. Now Kayn stays up until dawn trying to get the means to defeat that dragon too.
💙 He doesn’t care about building a house because he uses yours as his own. Kayn even took over your bed, forcing you to go build another one.
❤️He takes items from your chest as if they were his—however, everything he finds also gets stored there, and he doesn’t mind if you take things from it too.
But that changes if it’s one of the other guys taking items from your stuff. Oh, no. That, Kayn does not let slide.
💙 Someone in the group—probably Ezreal—introduces him to TNT blocks, and since then every house has become a potential trap.
Luckily for you, Kayn isn’t much of an engineer in-game, so you manage to avoid most of the TNT. But once, Kayn really went all out and placed a stack of TNT hidden under one of Yone’s builds, triggered by a pressure plate on the floor; Yone, however, with an enviable sixth sense, sensed the danger and ruined the whole plan. After that frustration, Kayn is now watching YouTube videos about disguising mechanisms and traps.
❤️ Ezreal was with Kayn when they accidentally found an Ancient City; of course, Ezreal, not knowing what he was doing, ended up summoning the Warden, and the second the ambient lighting flickered, he was already getting out of there.
Kayn didn’t.
Kayn somehow managed to kill the creature and then bragged about having done it all by himself.
💙 — Wow, you really killed the Ender Dragon on your own?
— Of course.
— But when did you get full netherite armor? You hate mining and...
— Well, you put all its items in our chest, remember?
— …I haven’t even gone to the Nether yet.
— …You haven’t?
— No.
— Then who—
* Yone disconnected from the game *
Hope you enjoyed!
I was thinking of a request made for Heartsteel Kayn while I was playing Hytale. In the middle of a combat play, a thought suddenly crossed my mind, like, ‘This is totally something Heartsteel Kayn would do.’
I laughed at the thought. Stopped. Thought to myself. But instead of Hytale, I started to drift into this scenario in Minecraft. And that’s how this silly idea was born — but one I had a lot of fun writing.
If it's possible (If this stuff is allowed) can you write hcs about an Aphelios x a reader with sexual trauma? Just let him be all soft and patient with the reader and also super protective, (like him getting angry and protective at the THOUGHT of those other men hurting you like that) If I broke a rule by requesting this please let me know first!
S/o with a History of Sexual Trauma HCs (Aphelios)
Even before he knew what happened to you, he was always the fiercely protective type
Though, after being clued into some of the details, he started to be a bit more mindful around you
To outsiders (and even you), it didn’t look like anything changed
But he started to be very careful about little things like not touching you unless he knows you’ve been alerted to his presence and waiting for you to indicate somehow that you were happy with what he was currently doing
He can’t say he has any personal experience with this stuff, but he’s able to go to his sister for ideas on how he can be respectful of your boundaries and proactive about making sure you’re comfortable
Sometimes, it can be a bit overkill and a little awkward, but he always has such good intentions that it’s hard to see those overkill moments as anything but something to laugh at
As for how he acts around other people? Whole different story
He feels almost aggressive and a lot colder to others when out in public with you (especially when you’re around men he does not like or trust) and will always be keeping you close to his side
And when he feels like there’s someone who might end up making you uncomfortable, he’ll try to step in between you two before it even comes to that because fuck he look like letting a mess happen on his watch!!!
But lord help whoever comes up with the bright idea of trying to step past your guard dog…you know they’re gonna need all the help they can get once they realize whose girl they’re trying to harass
How they react to overhearing you talk about them lovingly
Content; Fluff
Warnings; Non-established relationship (pinning), somewhat ooc (Mostly for K'Sante's part), not properly proofread (grammar errors), rushed in certain areas
Characters; All Heartsteel members
Ezreal
Absolutely starstruck when he hears you, almost thinking you might've been talking about someone else until you name dropped his name in the conversation, making him smile like a dork falling in love. At first he'd keep quiet while listening to you talk about him, getting giddy and jittery with every compliment you throw his way, but eventually blew his cover ⎯ either 'cause he slipped a giggle out on accident, or came clean after feeling bad for eavesdropping, which he swears there was no bad intent behind it whatsoever! However, you better expect him to have a little chat with you later...
Kayn
Smug. He's leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as he listens more to your voice complimenting him, boosting that little ego in him and of course, getting a rise out of Rhaast who annoyingly teases him over his shoulders. But lucky for him, your voice seems to tune out that annoying rascal. Hearing that endearment while you talk so highly about him makes his heart pound ⎯ wanting to reciprocate it in a flash but .. Couldn't exactly do it, at least not right now. He'd wait until you're done talking to chime in and throw a compliment right back at you, along with dragging you elsewhere to continue your little conversation exclusively with him instead.
Aphelios
He would listen but not interrupt you. Silently enjoying how much you cared for him in a way that you talked so highly about him to others, even though it was embarrassing, he can feel the amount of love you had for him. Walking away and pretending like the whole thing didn't happen when you approach him later, but the thought does linger in his mind for few days. Maybe when the time is right and you guys are in a relationship together, he'd finally mention it to you.
Sett
He's immediately caught listening after hearing just one compliment from you that had him stumbling and fumbling like a fool. A lopsided guilty smile on his face as he apologises for eavesdropping, but couldn't exactly shake off the happiness and pride he felt after hearing you talk about him and would 100% reciprocate it back tenfold ⎯ showering you with his own compliments for you and even being a bit bold to start flexing his muscles and pecs.
K'Sante
Similar to Kayn, he'd be very somewhat smug about it, minus the confronting part ⎯ he wouldn't exactly say anything afterwards. Keeping it to himself but you can clearly see that there was some sort of ego boost to him after spending the past few days with him and the group. He's prideful, but not a bastard about it. He's eager, but not too excited to blurt it out straight up, and not to mention the obvious, but he most certainly does reciprocates your feelings... However, he wants to find a perfect way to confess to you. Not because he heard you talking about him, but 'cause after knowing you do feel the same way as him, he just wants to somehow make it special for the both of you.
Yone
He actually walks away when he hears you talking with someone, not wanting to intrude and bother you but then stops in his tracks after hearing his name being mentioned and a bunch of compliments thrown his way, making him smile fondly before he continued to walk off to do his own thing. Though the thing is, this isn't the first time he heard you talk about him before ⎯ going through the exact same scenario more than once saying without saying anything about it, even though he should've. And although he makes excuses that it's because he wants to 'make sure he has enough blackmail before confronting you about it'... It's really just him wanting to savour the moment a tad bit longer.
pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)
warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au
notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)
You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.
The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.
“Don’t come any closer.”
A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips.
The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.
Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.
“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”
Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.
He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.
“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!”
You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.
Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer.
A moment for sanctum.
His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing.
In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless.
No one would hear you.
No one would save you.
Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.
“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”
Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist.
You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.
‘Forgive me.’
Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all.
The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue.
He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth.
A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.
When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?
You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…
What would it be like to be touched?
It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.
Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.
Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction.
“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.
Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.
He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.
“Please…for your own sake.”
Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.
“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.
“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“
A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.
“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.
With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body.
“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.”
Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach.
“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”
You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”
You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.
Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.
Then again, and again, and again.
“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess.
His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.
“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”
You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.
“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”
“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.
He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly.
Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions.
“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”
You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release.
When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.
From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.
It didn't matter.
They evaporated the moment he blinked again.
When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.
“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”
The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.
”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.”
🔮 summary: aphelios, alune, ezreal, and kayn all have their favorite parts about getting down and dirty with you.
⚠️ warnings: 18+ content, Minors DNI!, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, GN!Reader
aphelios: noisy. he wants to hear you whimper. he wants to hear your moans. whatever broken sentences you manage to get out. the slap of his balls on your ass, the wet slurp of the slick between you two as he thrusts his cock into you. you having him fucking into you harder if you yell his name like his bandmates aren’t just down the hall. hearing your voice is what drives him. his senses may be dulled to due to side affects of the surgeries he’s had, but his hearing is sharp and practiced, it has to be, as an instrumentalist for a band hitting the charts every other week. any sort of noises you make during sex is overwhelmingly euphoric to him and can bring him to the edge in 5 seconds flat.
alune: the warmth of your sex on her hand. the way you press kisses into her arm as you fuck. your bruising grip on her thigh as you eat her out, paired with those sharp nips heightens her senses. it makes everything so wonderfully blissful, almost bathing her vision in white hot pleasure. alune is all about touch. there’s a lot she’s neglected and gave up in looking out for her twin brother, pleasurable touches being one of these. she’s always placing your hand somewhere on her body. her tits, her stomach, her thighs. she loves being touched by you. loves feeling every single nerve alight by your hand. loves exploring what feels good, what pleasurable pain you can bring to her.
ezreal: another one who loves noises, but rather than making it into a sort of artistic expression, ezreal likes it sloppy. he likes fucking you until you’re so dumb that you can’t even properly say his name. he presses into you so deep it’s like the circuits in your brain shut off and you’re basically just yammering incomplete words as he leans into your chest, fully sheathed inside of you. he doesn’t really care about being heard or even if someone walked in to tell the two of you to shut up, but definitely videotapes your cute little reaction. he’s definitely somewhat shameless in his sexual expression and definitely acts up in public.
kayn: oh, there’s so much i could say about this man. just like any scorpio, the man embodies the word sex. there’s not a thing about it that turns him off and if there’s one word i would use to describe kayn, it would be kinky. there’s nothing he won’t try, very little that he would say no too. in fact, he says he finds normal sex somewhat boring, and is always looking for something to peek his interest. but that’s not entirely true. for kayn, finding someone he loves having just plain sex with is interesting in itself, as he’s seen and experience so much. if he is willing to just have sex without any games or bells and whistles with you, he’s madly in love. he’s keeping you forever.
In all his known life, Omen had never been able to sleep. He could feel tired, exhausted even, and to recover he’d had to lay down or meditate for a bit. But the creature that he was physically couldn't sleep. Or so he thought.
There came you, another agent whom he barely talked to outside of missions. All he did was enjoy the silence procured by the common room when everyone else was sleeping but there you were, coming into the room and talking to your phone. You weren't loud. You were present, but discreet enough to be forgotten. Yet, your voice reached him. Careful, caressing his hearing and so so gentle. Before he could understand how or why, Omen had difficulty staying focused on his craft. His sight lost its accuracy, the wool and needles blurring as an oddly comforting lethargy took over him. And before he could realise what was happening to him, he fell deeper into the couch and lost consciousness.
When his consciousness returned, he was at the infirmary, Sage and Viper fussing around him, still dressed in their sleepwears. The first thing he felt was surprise because it was the first time he heard Viper being so flabbergasted.
“He was emitting delta waves,” he heard her pacing around the room. “He was asleep ! This has never happened before.”
When he sat up, Sage hurried beside him to help him up.
“Omen, are you alright ?”
“How did I end up here ?” he grumbled.
Sage then explained to him that you were the one who found him unconscious. You were apparently very worried because the three slits on his face turned off. After this incident, Viper and Sage insisted for him to run some tests, and apparently, nothing was wrong. No one understood what happened to him. He was perfectly stable and nothing showed any kind of dysfunction. And for the first time in his known life, he was feeling refreshed.
Since then, he has tried to fall back into that strange state. He has come back to the common room to resume his knitting. He expected to lose consciousness again but no, he focused until the other agents woke up and walked in. So he teleported in his room and sat down on his bed, waiting for that strange incident to happen again. He waited and waited and waited.
Nothing.
He laid down and waited again.
Nothing.
So he started to think about what could be the possible cause of his loss of consciousness. It couldn't have been the exhaustion caused by a mission since he hadn’t had one in days. He didn't do much around the headquarters except for training, pruning his bonsai and knitting. Even the meditation techniques recommended by Sage did nothing. And then, when he was about to give up, he remembered an important detail.
You were there the previous night.
Omen heavily doubted you did something to harm him. He didn't know you well, but from the little he had seen from you, you were someone who tended to worry a lot for others. Plus, you were the one who called Sage and Viper.
He found you in the shooting range, training your aim with a sharpness he only saw during operations. He waited until you emptied your magazine to gently tap your shoulder.
“Oh Omen !” you gasped. “Hi ! Are you…Are you okay ?”
All the deathly sharpness in your eyes had disappeared the second you saw him, replaced by a soft worry.
“All is well and I have to thank you for that,” Omen said.
“Pfff ! Nah !” you waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. I’m relieved you’re fine.”
He followed you and watched you hang the weapon on its rack. He decided to not turn around the bush.
“I have a favor to ask you.”
Ending in Omen’s dorm room wasn’t in your bingo card for the day but there you were, sitting on his bed while he was seated in his armchair right in front of you (was that a fireplace in the corner ?). You were pretty sure that if Clove ever heard of you being in his dorm room, they would write a fanfiction with dozens of thousands words and would hold a meeting to decide your ship’s name.
“So…you just need me to talk in order for you to fall asleep ?”
“That’s right,” he nodded. “The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was the sound of your voice.”
“I see,” you hummed. “That’s a creative way to say I’m boring.”
As soon as he heard your words, his demeanor seemed a bit more agitated.
“I apologize,” he shook his hands in front of him. “I didn't mean to–”
“Relax Omen !” you giggled. “I was kidding.” After a few seconds, you calmed down a little then stood up. “If it’s sleep you’re after, I suggest we exchange our places. You lay down on the bed and I sit on the armchair. I’ll tell you a story.”
Omen silently followed your instructions and observed you getting comfortable in his armchair. You, on the other hand, were surprised to notice how comfy the piece of furniture was. Your eyes met the three softly glowing slits that were focused on you and you cleared your throat.
“Alright. I hope you’re comfy,” you said, feeling suddenly shy as Omen nodded with a low hum.
You cleared your throat again and started telling a story. It wasn’t great literature or some fairy tale. It was just something you invented right at the moment. Yet, it seemed efficient. The more you talked, the more subdued Omen’s slits looked. His focus escaped him, his not-so-corporeal body felt more anchored yet so relaxed. It was a feeling he didn't know he missed, a piece of his humanity he reclaimed.
Omen fell asleep.
When he woke up a few hours later, he found a piece of paper on the armchair where you were sitting earlier.
Hope you slept well ! Happy that I could help. Don’t hesitate to call me if you want to sleep again, you looked like you needed it.
Omen would not hesitate to call you again. But first, he would knit you something to thank you.
His head snaps to your direction with no delay, every particle of his being rippling at your presence. The smile you have is radiant, terribly so. It causes him to burn from the inside out with immense joy, a feeling he thought he had long lost along with his human body. He feels his head buzzing as you compliment the half knitted beanie he was working on (it's for you), praising the intricately woven patterns. Something inside him pulses in response as he recalls you referring to him as a person, not a monster.
Zillions of responses pop in and out of him but the only thing he musters is a quiet "...thank you." Almost bashful in tone, even with his gravelly voice. Amazingly (to him at least), your grin grows wider. You stare at him as he continues to knit, he really can't handle the undivided attention. The buzzing gets more intense as seconds tick by, his bandages straining to contain the energetic particles within them.
"...so, what did you need?" he starts in hopes to turn your gaze off his hands before he completely loses control of himself.
"Oh! I... was wondering if you were free tonight," you look up at him, staring directly into his hood.
He wavers upon making 'direct eye contact'. He thinks he might not last the whole interaction, being uncalm makes it hard for him to stay corporeal. Yet, the brimming excitement is also what forces him to keep himself together. Last thing he wants to do is embarrass himself in front of you.
"You see... I was hoping we could watch some documentaries, together-"
"Yes."
He nearly explodes upon blurting that out, he didn't even let you finish asking! But the delightful spark that lights your eyes up takes him by surprise, he is unable to curse at himself for the blunder. Gleefully, you hop down from the sofa and head off, though not before letting him know the time and place.
"My room, 8pm!"
And as soon as you are out of sight, he lets out a strangled noise. His form deflates as he catches his breath. The happiness within him simmers down into a sense of accomplishment. Though, it quickly boils back up as he registers that you just invited him to a documentary date. He teleports off into his room to steel himself before he sees you again at night. Truly, a hopeless mess.
[ chamber, gekko, sova, omen x gn!reader ] — in which valorant men get a little jealous
tw: jealous and a little overprotectiveness but they’re (mostly) healthy about it. a little cursing for some flavor. random guy flirts with you in chamber's but hes not creepy about it. different guy is also creepy in omen's but its not talked about in detail. chamber makes a sexual joke in his.
CHAMBER ━━━
hot take: he’s so protective at all times idc idc
but he hides it so so well
he’s absolutely enamored by you, there’s no denying that. that’s only half the reason why he tries to show you off so much though
the other reason is because that means he is showing you off as his. he’s staking his claim on you in his own odd little way, but it works and neither of you mind it too much
━━━━━━
“are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look weird?” you asked, tugging at the material.
as much as you loved it, you couldn’t quite tell me if it was ‘you.’ you stepped out of the changing room of the store you were in and into the hallway, where chamber sat patiently waiting. he loved a fashion show if it was yours, after all.
he pretended to inspect it thoroughly, leaning forward in his chair and narrowing his eyes.
before he could answer, however, a different voice sounded out. it came from the door next to yours, where a different man had walked into the hallway to look at his own clothes.
“it looks good,” he spoke, smirk creeping its way onto his face. “but i imagine you’d look good in anything, huh?”
both you and chamber sat still and quiet for a few beats, as if registering what had just happened. the line was well delivered, but seriously? could he not tell that you were with chamber?
“well,” chamber spoke loudly. “they do look good in anything. and in nothing. we could see how you look when the shirt is on our bedroom floor, how’s that, ma cheri?”
you attempted to ignore the warmth that rose in your face, but failed. again, you were stunned. the opposing man blanched and retreated back to his changing room, where he quickly shut the door.
“come now, love. i think a thousand dollars in one shopping trip is enough, no? or should we stop by one more store?” chamber was overly loud once again.
and lying through his teeth, as well — you’d come to retrieve a single shirt for an event. that said, you couldn’t help but laugh as the occupant of changing room next to yours fumbled over himself, apparently knocked something down, and released a string of curses.
he didn’t have to know chamber was lying, and you didn’t have to know chamber was lying because he knew he’d earn a laugh from you.
GEKKO ━━━
gekko has like. a normal amount of jealousy?
he’ll bite back the small senses of it whenever you’re giving another guy a little more attention that he would like you to
or he’ll politely explain to you that he doesn’t really like you doing something because of how it makes him feel and you’ll talk it through
not because he doesn’t trust you, he just needs that extra little reassurance
if you’re willing to give up doing something to give him that peace of mind? all the better. if not? he can work on it, no questions asked.
overall 10/10 v good communication skills i love him
━━━━━━
you could tell that gekko was uneasy. from the way his nails picked at his fingers and the constant bouncing of his knee, to the avoidance of eye contact and the way his speech was quiet and mumbled, gekko’s demeanor screamed something was wrong.
you watched him carefully as you sat back down at the table. again, his eyes didn’t move from the place they were locked onto.
a few moments passed as you thought of what could have been wrong. the two of you were at some company party, with loud music coming through the speakers and an unholy amount of people piled into the room. everyone was dressed formally in either dresses or suits, their makeup done perfectly and not a hair out of place.
maybe that’s what was wrong. perhaps the music was too loud or his suit was too tight.
“mateo?” you had to yell over the music, despite wanting your voice to be soft as you spoke to him.
he finally looked up to you, soft eyes scanning your face. he didn’t speak, but he hummed to acknowledge you audibly.
“is everything alright? you seem a little off.”
the question seemed to stun him for a few moments as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked back down to the table. after a deep breath, he finally answered. “i just felt a little… i dunno. saying i was jealous feels a little funny, but there was this guy earlier you were talking to? he was kinda tall, darker hair. and uh- anyway, you went to grab a drink and he seemed to be really funny i guess. you didn’t stop laughing the entire time you were talking and before you left he kissed your cheek.”
you thought about it for a second, trying to recall the interaction, before you let out something like a laugh.
“he’s from mexico, he told me it was a common thing there? i dunno. i’ve known him since i joined the protocol.” you said, smiling at him. “it’s nothing, but if you don’t like it i’ll tell him next time. i highly doubt there’s gonna be any hard feelings about it on his end. is that alright?”
he nodded, sending you a soft smile. his face had relaxed significantly in the past few minutes. "thank you, amor."
SOVA ━━━
he rarely gets jealous,, he thinks
he has a hard time exactly placing the emotion, and it’s mostly shrouded in protectiveness more than anything
he loves you, he knows you love him, and there is not a doubt that trickles into his mind
…..for the most part, anyway
there is the occasional time when that warmth spreads in his chest and the overwhelming urge to take you under his wing spawns, only to realize you aren’t in any danger
so why does he feel the need to protect you?
━━━━━━
sova had never had any ill-will toward phoenix. the two of them weren't particularly close, but they had worked and lived together for long enough that they were closer than one might expect.
maybe thats why sova agreed to play games with he and a few others the other night. they played stupid ice-breaker games, despite mostly having known each other for years. a few embarrassing stories of his friends' youth were shared, including the time jett ate brownies without knowing weed was baked in, and the time raze got caught sneaking out in her teens.
at some point, sova was asked who he had feelings for. it was the late hours of the night, and you had long since passed out on the couch next to him. he'll never figure out how you slept through the laughing and talking, but you did. without saying a word, sova had smiled softly and nodded over to you.
there were a few gasps, and then there was the laughing and cheering of a few others. phoenix held out his hand, to which jett passed him twenty bucks with a disgrunted face. evidently, they had had a bet about his feelings.
little did he know that telling them--phoenix, in particular--about his feelings toward you would go on to be one of the worst decisions he could have made.
ever since that night, phoenix had made it his goal to flirt with you as much as he possibly could when sova was around. he would send the russian a wink and a smile after every interaction with you, driving the stake deeper. though you thought he was just being friendly and joking around, the interactions never failed to spark a sick feeling in his gut.
and currently, he was almost at his limit.
he was normally fairly calm, but his patience with phoenix had been run thin over the past few weeks and the interaction between you two was getting a little too close for his comfort. not that he had some sort of claim over you; you weren't dating, so why did he have this feeling?
"could you hand me my water?" you asked from your spot on the couch. you gestured to the bottle of water placed in front of phoenix, who was sitting beside you.
he watched as phoenix took your hand and brought it gently up to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "anything for you, my love." his voice was dripping with sultry as he spoke.
in a few quick steps, sova got up and grabbed the bottle before phoenix could. he stepped around the coffee table and handed you the bottle, sending a glare over to phoenix when he stepped away. the other man raised his hands in mock defense and leaned back into the couch. with a sly smile, he positioned his arm around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. you laughed, but didn't push away.
"ok, fine." sova finally spoke. he had been glaring daggers at you and phoenix for the better part of two hours, and you couldn't figure out why. "what the hell is it for, phoenix? why are you doing this?"
you leaned up from where you were leaned against the man in question. "doing what?"
phoenix smiled impossibly wider and leaned forward. "yeah, doing what?"
sova grumbled. he huffed and took a moment to collect himself. "leave, y/n." he looked at you and his eyes softened. "please."
despite the look he sent you, you weren't leaving. you crossed your arms in defiance and glared. phoenix's hand came up to rub your back.
"that!" sova finally spoke again. this wasn't how he wanted to confess to you, but so be it. "i told you weeks ago that i had feelings for y/n and you have since made it your life's mission to flirt with them. you don't have the same feelings for them, so why? what do you gain?"
phoenix, painfully calmly, got up and walked to the other side of the room. "for one, you finally confessed. don't have to deal with your 'longing gazes' anymore. secondly, jett now owes me twenty more bucks."
OMEN ━━━
omen would like to pride himself in the fact that he was rarely jealous.
insecure? sure. a little self-depreciating? of course.
but jealous just wasn’t him. as much as he was dissatisfied with himself, he had full trust in you.
however, that didn’t stop the rare inkling of a feeling that you truly would be better off with someone else, especially when they flirt, and even more so when you don’t notice
━━━━━━
one more time. that was all it was going to take.
just one more time for that guy to slide his hand up your arm, one more stupid joke to roll off of his tongue, one more laugh from you. omen knew he didn't exactly initiate physical touch all that often, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. he would kill right now to have that be him, for you to be so close to him, for you to be laughing at his every word like you were laughing at that guy's.
he had told you that he would come with you to grab some supplies. a kingdom worker had been at the facility at the time, however, and the two of you seemed to be getting along perfectly well. to hell with the company you had asked from omen, he supposes.
and of course there it was again, his arm coming up to rest gently on your back as he guided you down another hallway. omen was a few steps behind the two of you, not that either one of you seemed to be paying him any mind.
fine. he could go back to his room.
his disappeared into a cloud of smoke, materializing again in the darkness of his own room. the events of the last thirty or so minutes replayed in his mind, a taunting loop of your smile as you looked at the man responsible for it. its not that he hated seeing you smile -- he loved it. but it was a different thing entirely when you smiled so big because of a man he could never be. maybe in another life, but not now.
the thoughts swirled in his head for what felt like hours. it was likely barely half an hour in reality, being that it took fifteen minutes alone to get up to his room from where the two of you had been before and likely another few to finish your work.
finally, a knock on the door of his room regained his attention.
"come in." he spoke, not looking away from the ceiling tile he'd been fixed on.
"what the hell is wrong with you?" you asked, clearly angry.
the phantom sat up, looking over to you incredulously. "what?"
"why the hell would you leave?"
"wasn't interested in watching him flirt with you." he was curt, as always.
"oh, yeah," you said dramatically. you were walking over to him now, standing in front of him. "because i was enjoying it so much. loved it even more when my boyfriend got tired and left me alone with him."
oh. that makes more sense than you blatantly hitting on him in front of your own boyfriend.
"really? sure seemed to find him so funny."
"because what am i supposed to do? tell him that he's not funny and to shut up?"
"you could have told him not to touch you."
"i did! and you didn't see me brushing his hand away and walking faster so he wouldn't rest his hand on my back? or were you too busy wallowing?"
the reality of this set in on him suddenly. he really had been too caught up in his own mind to realize what was happening. he had left you in an uncomfortable situation all because he was too stubborn to listen to what was actually happening.
"i'm sorry." he finally spoke.
"its okay," you sighed, and crawled your way into his bed. "i'll file a report or something later. we deserve a nap."
