Aug 4
gekko facesitting- F! reader
cw- nfsw under the cut, mommy kink, slight femdom, (is this ageplay? i hope not cuz that shits weird) cunnilingus, extremely self indulgent
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gekko facesitting- F! reader
cw- nfsw under the cut, mommy kink, slight femdom, (is this ageplay? i hope not cuz that shits weird) cunnilingus, extremely self indulgent
the fabric of your lace thong is tossed to the floor at the near speed of light, fully revealing yourself to the man eyeing you up with lust grazing in his hazel eyes. you smile nervously, as his hands come up to grip your ass and his eyes dart down to the thin bush of your mound.
his hands grip tightly and pull you down to make contact with his lips, hot breath tickling your pulsating clit.
"come on mateo, you wanna make mommy feel good?"
"mhm..."
his eyebrows dropped to give a desperate look on his face.
"then be a good boy and give mommy what she needs, baby boy..."
with those simple words, he begins making out with your cunt. His eyes close and he moans against you, making your clit throb. His tongue rubs and swirls around your core, giving it all the pleasure it demands.
the stimulation makes your head fall back, your fingers scratching his scalp and tugging the short neon strands as he laps at your clit like a starving dog.
you hiss and snarl through your teeth with pleasure, whimpering and gasping at the sensation. your hands slipped from his hair to the headboard as he grips your pubic mound with his hand, pulling up slightly to move your clitoral hood out the way to make more surface area for him to please. his tongue slid against it easily as he went to town on your sensitive bud.
your movements became uncontrollable, pushing your weight against the headboard again and rocking your hips on his face, using him as if he were your own personal sex toy.
“fuck, fuck, mateo, i-i’m gonna cum, baby, i’m...!”
your orgasm crashed onto you like waves as your thighs clamped hard on poor mateo's head, crushing it as you squealed and gasped.
as you settled down and mateo pulls his head back, he smiles up at you with glossy lips and chin.
"god, that was... fucking amazing, baby. i love you so much."
"haha, love ya more, mi corazon."
random gekko headcanons + nsfw
california sober. doesn't really drink or do hard drugs, but he loves himself some weed.
his favorite form is edibles or bongs
he also used to vape a lot but had to stop that as well as the weed smoking when he joined the valorant protocol. he canonically has asthma, so smoking and heavy cardio would be very hard on his lungs
speaking of asthma, his mom is always on his case about the weed smoking
also his mom would love u so much!!!!
he's never brought a girl home before and she's so excited to have you around
she always pesters you two about mundane things
"what theme will the wedding be? when will i have grandkids?"
she's just proud of her baby boy
he likes sanrio. he has a cinnamoroll plush on his bed and usaha*na tattooed on his shoulder blade.
his cousin is his tattoo artist so he'll barter his poor cousin constantly to get you a cheap tat
he'd love a matching set!!!!
maybe you get a My Melody tattoo on your thigh or calf and he'll get one of Flat
he's such a sub
he'd love to just let you bounce on his cock while he sucks ur nipples dry
he's very very loud. you're both very lucky the dormitories in the VP are soundproof
his biggest fantasy is when u strap him to a chair and hold a vibrator to the tip of his cock as you jerk him off with a fleshlight for hours, edging him until he cries and begs for an orgasm
speaking of, he can go about 3 rounds before he goes soft
absolute worshipper, he'd spend the rest of his life between your legs if he could
ass guy 100%. if you let him hit it reverse cowgirl he would marry you on the spot. maybe doggystyle if he's feeling extra needy and dominant
he's like 30% dom 70% sub.
he's very hypersexual. he always wants to get his dick wet.
you'll know he's horny when he starts breathing heavily and groping your stomach and chest. he'll rut against your leg as you cuddle and lick and suck your neck, leaving hickeys on your collarbone.
speaking of, his dick is about 6.5 inches, cut, and crazy thick. like, soda can thick. he nearly tears you in half with his girth.
breeding kink 100,000%. he wants to fill your pussy up with cum and then use his tongue to push it deeper inside you before he goes round 2.
he'd beg you to let him call you mommy!
"fuck, mommy, your pussy is so good...! i'm gonna cum mommy, please mommy, i want it so bad!"
AAAAAARHGHH this makes me go feral
ignore this if ur skinny but he loves himself a thick girl. tummy poking out from under your shirt, back rolls that are easy to grip while you ride him, thighs bigger than his head, all of it. he loves a plush woman who isn't afraid to show herself off to him. you're perfect to him either way.
sit on his face!!!
also i feel like he'd want to lick or finger your ass at some point but he's nervous. what if you push him away?
the tiniest smidge of a masochist. if you hold and grip his neck to maintain eye contact he will melt immediately.
After having a wet dream, he encounters the very person it was about.
-----Gekko-----
The morning light fell through the gap in the curtains, casting a pale stripe across the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, already deep in a heated debate with his wingmen.
"Listen, guys, I swear I didn't mean for it to happen. It just… it just sort of happened, okay?" Gekko's voice was still rough with sleep as he addressed the creatures perched on the headboard. "I don't normally think about stuff like this. I swear."
His face burned as he gestured vaguely, then gave up entirely, burying his face in his palms. The tips of his ears, visible through the gaps between his fingers, were crimson. He let out a defeated sigh. The dream's details surfaced again—too vivid to be just a dream, the heat and sensation so real it made him feel like he was on fire.
It had started as a mission.
A rare mission, just the two of you. Solo. The infiltration had gone perfectly, and he'd turned to you with a grin and a wink. "Nice work." Wingman nuzzled against your ankle, leaving a cool trace on your skin, and you'd flashed him a light, easy smile in return.
He'd thought it would be smooth sailing—until he caught a glimpse of an enemy in the distance.
"Watch out!" he called out, voice low, reaching for you and pulling you aside. Your shoulder collided with his chest, carrying the warmth of your body. "We're made. Run!" He grabbed your hand and sprinted down the corridor, your palm pressed against his, fingers laced together, a thin sheen of sweat forming at the points where your skin met. More enemies appeared around the corner, footsteps converging from all directions. Quick as a flash, he pulled you into a nearby storage locker and shut the door.
Darkness swallowed you whole.
But the space felt less like a locker and more like a pocket of the dream, a world built just for the two of you—wooden panels against his back, your breathing sounding in his ears.
Footsteps closed in from outside. He reached up and pressed his hand over your mouth, stifling the sound of your breathing. His palm brushed against your lips—soft, cool, a current of something electric shooting through his nerves. His ears burned. When the footsteps finally faded, swallowed by the distant corridor, he pulled his hand away, a lingering trace of your warm breath on his skin.
"Damn. Lock's jammed. We might have to wait for Dizzy and the others to find us."
Silence stretched between you, thick in the dark, broken only by the sound of breathing. Then you spoke, your voice quiet.
"Gekko… don't you think it's getting a little cramped in here?"
The space felt like it was shrinking, the wooden panels pressing in from all sides. The two of you were forced closer together. He lifted his right arm, bracing it behind your head, knuckles against the wood, but his left hand hung awkwardly in the air, not sure where to go. Sensing his hesitation, you murmured, "It's okay. You can get closer."
He froze, grateful for the darkness that hid his face. "Sorry," he mumbled, pressing his left palm flat against the wall, careful not to let it brush your waist, fingertips pressing into the wood.
But the dream didn't want to let him off easy.
The panel pushed another inch closer.
His arms came around you fully, wrapping you against his chest. Too close. Close enough to smell the laundry detergent on your collar, close enough to feel the faint vibration of your heartbeat through his own ribs. He could feel the softness of you, impossible to ignore, pressed against him through the thin fabric of his shirt. In his head, he was apologizing frantically.
And then, naturally, you looked up. In the dark, you rose on your toes—he realized what you were doing a moment too late. Your lips found his, soft and accurate, settling against his mouth.
Warm, damp breath intertwined. His heart seemed to swell with the feeling, too full to hold. His mind went blank for a second, his pupils dilating in the darkness. He was frozen, too stunned to even breathe.
But only for three seconds.
Then he closed his eyes, lifted his hand, and threaded his fingers through your hair.
—How the hell was he supposed to face you now?
After waking, Gekko sat there, staring miserably at you from across the room. He still remembered the lingering sensation on his lips. Wingman trotted over to you, chattering excitedly, little paws slapping against the floor. "Wingman, get back here!" he called out, panicked, even though he knew you couldn't understand a word the creature said. The shame came flooding back, hot and unbearable, crawling up his neck and setting his ears ablaze. You just smiled at him as Wingman trotted back to his side.
Almost without thinking, he stepped forward and looked at you. "You wanna play some games tonight?" His voice was a little tight; he tried to sound natural. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his side.
"Your room?" you answered without missing a beat, like you'd been waiting for it, a hint of a smile in your eyes.
"Yeah. My room." He managed a stiff smile, the corners of his mouth not quite cooperating. The pressure that had just started to dissipate rushed back in—maybe he should start preparing for that moment.
---
-----Yoru-----
He jolted awake in bed, a deep, lingering heat still burning in his chest, refusing to fade. The sheets were twisted into crumpled lines beneath his grip, his back damp with a sheen of sweat.
Kuso… Yoru sat cross-legged on the bed, running a hand through his tangled hair with irritated fingers, still trembling slightly. He stared bleakly at the rumpled sheets, and in the instant his mind went blank, the chaos of the dream came flooding back, like a tide washing over his consciousness.
In the dream, the corners of your eyes were flushed with red—must have been his doing. A watery haze clouded your gaze, but he could still see his own reflection clearly in your pupils. Your voice was nothing like its usual sharp, prickly self; it was soft, waterlogged, carrying a suppressed sob. Your lips were slightly swollen, and your cool fingertips were pressed against his Adam's apple. He couldn't help but swallow, his throat bobbing beneath your touch—a silent surrender.
"Ryo—you're so mean," your voice drifted, feather-light, yet it landed like a stone against his heart, setting it pounding. His breath caught—more like a pout than a reproach. He reached up, caught your wrist, and pinned it to the pillow beside your head, looking down at you. The pillow dented under the pressure, their faces close enough to count each other's lashes. A sudden impulse surged through him—to bury his face in the crook of your neck—and he followed it, letting his warm breath fall against your skin. He let out a half-sigh, muffled: "Yeah. Mean."
What the hell? Why am I going over it in such detail? Yoru cursed himself silently, his ears burning. What's wrong with me? I'm not some sixteen-year-old kid getting wet dreams. And the person I dream about is you—the one I can't stand.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake thehake the dream away.
---
Everyone could tell something was off with Yoru today. He was more on edge than usual, more agitated, and there was a pointed edge to the way he antagonized you. He'd always had a way of getting under your skin, but today was different. His pace quickened when he passed by you. His gaze deliberately avoided yours.
It all boiled over during the mission.
"Yoru, don't push that fast," Sage's command crackled over comms. He ignored it, racking his weapon with a sharp metallic click. "Give me five," he drawled, a note of irritation in his voice that even he couldn't quite explain.
Five minutes? Maybe less. He teleported right next to you, a burst of pale blue light blooming in the air. He smelled of gunpowder and sweat, his collar damp with exertion. "Too easy." His tone dripped with contempt, a butterfly knife twirling idly in his fingers as he arched an eyebrow at you.
He'd just wanted to see how you'd react after he'd so cleanly completed the objective—maybe hoping for something, maybe nothing. But to you, it looked like a taunt. The question you were about to ask—about whether he was hurt—died in your throat. Your fingers curled at your side. You let out a cold laugh. "Killing it, huh?"
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. The butterfly knife stalled for a fraction of a second. He didn't fire back a retort, as he usually would; he just gave you a look, something complicated in his eyes, and muttered, "Idiot," before turning and walking away.
---
-----Iso-----
He didn't usually sleep well. Most nights were shallow, dreamless. The digital clock by his bed glowed a dim blue in the dark. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the old saying—you dream of what you dwell on. Either way, he dreamed of you.
Not a normal dream. The kind that crossed a line—a line that shouldn't be crossed between friends.
It started innocently enough. Steam rose from a hotpot, the broth bubbling under fluorescent lights. You were sitting across from him, sucking in air through your teeth, your lips red and glistening, complaining about why he hadn't ordered a split pot. He'd smiled and slid the plum juice over to you, the glass beaded with condensation that melted under his fingertips.
Your eyes were bright, fixed on the bubbling spicy broth. He picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and set it gently on the edge of your bowl. "Li Zhaoyu, you eat too," you said. The restaurant was noisy—clatter of dishes, chatter from the next table—but your voice cut through, clear as if you were speaking directly into his ear.
"Yeah. I know," he murmured, lips curving.
"Your face is so red," you said.
He almost felt relieved—hotpot was an excuse for anything. "It's spicy. Yours is red too." He looked up, meeting your eyes.
But in that instant, the dream shifted without warning.
The noise drained away, the hotpot's warmth flickered out into a dim, ambiguous haze. The scene melted into flickering neon and strobes, upside-down and fragmented, reassembled into something else entirely. The lights went out, and when they came back, everything had changed. Your face was still flushed, but it was a feverish red, unnatural. And his own body's reactions, the urges rising in him—none of it was normal.
The hand that held his weapon the steadiest was now tracing the soft, warm skin of your thigh, his fingertip feeling the faint tremors beneath. Your thighs pressed together gently, cradling his head, and his voice dropped to a low murmur, coaxing you to relax, slow and deliberate. Every lap of his tongue, every lingering stroke, drew out a sharp, stifled whimper from your lips that he savored.
…That's enough.
Cold water spilled through his fingers, pulling him back to reality. He splashed it on his face, trying to quell the heat, droplets rolling off his chin onto the marble counter. He gripped the sink's edge and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Disgusting, he thought. Because in the gray area between dream and waking, he'd imagined this—wanted this.
Reality didn't give him a moment to breathe.
"Iso, want to get hotpot tonight?" You were there—you, the real you—your expression casual, natural.
The music pounding in his earbuds made his pulse thrum. He hesitated for half a beat before answering, forcing a light tone: "…Sure."
He ordered a split pot this time. The spicy side still boiled furiously. But you still wanted to try the spicy broth, and when you did, you choked on it, coughing as you pressed a hand to your scorched throat, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. His chopsticks froze mid-air, hovering over the pot. His gaze flicked to the red flush on your cheeks, to the tears caught in your lashes, and his grip on the chopsticks tightened unconsciously, knuckles whitening.
"Slow down." His voice came out rough, strained. He pushed the plum juice toward you, the base of the glass making a dull, heavy sound against the table. He glanced at you again, quick—then pushed back his chair. "I need to hit the restroom." The chair scraped against the floor with a short, harsh squeak.
Fuck, can you guys exchange contact info with me and have a good chat with me about Valorant x Reader... I'm so lonely, I'm dying of loneliness qwq Please, I'm begging you.
Mine
Gekko x GN!Reader / Slight Yoru x GN!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, angst, romance, falling in love, rough kissing, first kiss, kinda suggestive at the end, violence, blood, Valorant lore(?), tsundere Yoru, possesive Gekko, besties with Reyna.
Notes: This was done when Lotus first came out, but I decided to keep all agents roaster in lmao.
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It’s not often you get to warm up, or even be friendly, towards new agents joining the protocol.
Obviously, is not a matter of who to blame but rather, you don’t get the time to make acquaintances because of the responsibilities that were bestowed upon you—being Viper’s right hand did come with a lot of stress and coffee addiction, mind you,—and when an opportunity arises, energy is the last thing you have to spare.
When Chamber first joined, you didn't have to put up with a façade to appear friendly and somewhat kind to ease him into a new environment.
From the moment your eyes landed on him, the uneasiness of his presence was something you couldn’t comprehend as a whole. You did feel bad for judging without knowing his character, but it didn’t take long for him to show his true colors once he found himself comfortable enough.
The French man was flirty by nature and bold in his approach. He harbored no guilt when it came to wooing the women, and paid no mind when none of them reciprocated his advances. It was like a game to him, to see who might fall for his charm and inflated ego, and when he realized they were above his league, he took it as a challenge and became insufferable.
Up until this day you feel sorry for Viper for having to deal with him and his affections. It was a relief he left the rest of you alone, though, now that he had someone to target particularly.
Another instance that comes to mind is when you were introduced to Neon after returning from a mission.
She was ferocious, quick on her feet, and with a strong personality that would have anyone butting their heads with her in arguments; you got a taste of that determination when arguing about international cuisine, ending the verbal dispute with a handshake and a promise to go out eating sometime soon. You always had respect towards anyone who spoke their mind with conviction and no fear, perseverant in their words and views; plus, being under the tutelage of Reyna made things easier for the two of you to become fast friends and good buddies for training.
Oh, right. There is one instance where you didn’t have to try befriending a new addition to the team.
Meeting Fade was awful, for a lack of a better word, with her trailing after Cypher as Brimstone announced the collaboration with the blackmailer to fulfill both her and the protocols goals. No one was happy about that, too untrusting and angry at the decision that was clearly done without Viper nor Sage’s approval, but the deal was done and nothing you could have said was going to revert it.
Ignoring her presence within the protocol became the norm; for you, at least, holding grudges against her and her methods of torturing. She doesn't care to fraternize with neither of the agents, and you don’t care about her in general to worry over her mental state, as gruesome as it might sound.
The last you know is that Neon became very close to Fade despite your warnings. And as much as you disapproved of their…relationship, that is something you couldn’t interfere on, and is better for Neon to handle on her own.
The experience with Fade didn’t compare in the slightest when it came to Harbor when he joined a few months later. The man was friendly and a charming conversationalist to approach anyone within reach to strike a conversation and, later on, a friendship. You admit he is a formidable addition to the team, a good comrade to have in battle and on missions, and the best coach alongside Skye when you train every now and then; Harbor is everything the rest of the protocol lacks, and you are proud to say you were one of the few he trusted enough to have as an ally and a friend.
Each of the new agents were special on their own. With abilities that go beyond human comprehension, and a formidable belief in themselves and the cause they are working for. It’s safe to assume that, despite not being entirely in agreement, each of them were a good addition to Valorant.
A few weeks after Harbor’s arrival, a new face is shown around.
Gekko…
Gekko was a whole new ordeal to deal with.
It’s not like you were entirely in the dark about his existence before he joined the protocol. You’ve heard tidbits about him: tales about his radiant powers, his companions and hazards they’ve gone through to get to the point where he is now. Stories told from Harbor who never shuts up about his talented protegé and how fast he was improving his skills with weapons and his endurance lasted longer each time he made him go through tough training. It was pretty amusing seeing Harbor act so excited about the kid; like a proud father, you could say, despite him voicing the apprehensiveness about Gekko and his radivores (whatever that means).
But Reyna could not share the same sentiment as he did. She would confide in you her expectations about the kid, her worries for bringing him to something that he was not ready for and losing him in the midst of battles—you knew her fear had foundation, the loss of her sister still hangs over her head till this day and, getting to the conclusion that Gekko might resemble some sort of a little brother to her, the nightmare of losing someone important to her weights heavily.
The grief often makes her contemplate the idea of giving up and taking him away before he even got a taste of what Valorant does. But her goals contradict that want, rendering her helpless as she accepts things for what they are and admitting that the agents at the protocol won’t be able to protect Gekko as well as she would do; so she stays, and you can’t help but be glad that your friend will still be by your side.
However, it begs to question Gekko's skills. If he has so many people worrying over him, can you really trust their word about his abilities and strength?
Part of your questions are answered when Brimstone finally introduces him to the rest of the agents. You expected a shy kid, barely able to look anyone in the eyes and perhaps a little skittish by being surrounded by so many stranger’s faces; but this one is far off what you envisioned at first.
“Nice to meet ya’, yall, soy Gekko!” he announces with the biggest grin on his face.
Gekko is loud, boisterous, and very friendly—if not to say charming with how easy he gets smiles or grins from anyone who interacts with him. He doesn’t look like someone who was weak, but that doesn’t mean he looks like someone capable of holding a gun and killing people just because it's an order. On the contrary, if innocence could have a personification, he would embody the meaning wholeheartedly.
From the pouch he wears, little orbs of energy burst into life and adopt forms of creatures you’ve never seen in your life before.
“Ohoho! So, these are your little friends I’ve heard so much about!” Raze exclaims, narrowing her eyes playfully while examining the blue one floating in the air. “They are adorable!”
The little blue thing chirps excitedly and Gekko bursts out laughing, little dimples deepening on his cheeks. “This one is Dizzy, she says you look pretty cool! Very rad’.”
“You understand them?” Jett asks, toying with the yellow creature by her feet. Gekko nods excitedly.
“Yeah! We are connected by some sort of link, y una sola neurona entre los cinco, ey! Anything I feel, they feel it too, it’s like an emotional connection!”
As the conversations unfolds, Omen keeps you company in the far back of the room, propping against the wall while you witness friendships be made on live. The wraith doesn’t seem to have any interest whatsoever in joining the conversations though, too busy looking at his phone as laughter ensues in the background.
Sensing that you don’t have a place here right now, you decide that leaving might be the best course of action. You will have time to get to know the kid on the battlefield if Brimstone so desires, but for now, a breath of fresh air is what you need the most. So much youth gathered in one place is starting to get you exhausted, even if you aren’t engaging actively.
But before you could take one step forward, your gaze locks with Gekko’s from across the room. His hazel eyes compel you to stay put, feeling the time freeze as the sounds deafens by the second around you, and your focus rests entirely on him.
Phoenix and Jett are too deep in their bantering to notice Gekko has stopped paying attention to them and is now making his way to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Behind him, one of his little…creatures? Animals? Is trailing behind him, going pit pat pit pat with its short legs, almost resembling a little ducking following their mama.
As Gekko shortens the distance, you start to become aware of many details you overlooked the first time you laid your eyes on him. Like the shape of his face, the curvature of his nose, the little mole under his left eye and the many tattoos framing his arms up to his neck in intricate, gorgeous swirls. You would have kept going, eyes roaming his whole form shamelessly, if it weren’t for his little yellow friend nudging your leg, like a little cat, asking for attention.
When he stands in front of you, shifting from one foot to another anxiously, and giving away how nervous he was, your heart skips a beat.
“Mi Reyna has told me about you.” he says, his smile stretching to a toothy grin. His face seems flushed, giving him a soft glow under the dim lights of the room. “Hope we can be friends!”
And that’s when your fate was sealed.
Energetic is not an adjective you are known for,—and you don’t think you will be in the near future,—and to make Gekko understand such a thing seems almost impossible with how eager he pulls you along as he strides optimistically in life.
One moment he is training with Reyna, another second he is bolting out of the room to hang out with his friends, the next moment he is gone and raiding the kitchen with his radivores in tow, causing mayhem wherever they go. Gekko is everywhere at all times, causing chaos and bringing smiles to the ones surrounding him. He is exasperating sometimes, you admit, with how hard he tries to make a connection with everyone and be part of something you cannot seem to grasp nor understand.
You learn with time that Gekko is a force to be reckoned with and, much to your dismay, has made a home at your heart with how stubborn he is into becoming part of your everyday life despite never asking for it. It’s embarrassing to admit how compliant and weak you seem to be whenever he ropes you into his mischievous plans, or how forgiving you become at his mistakes when he messes something up.
Even Viper has to admonish you behind closed doors to keep your head clear and opinion unbiased, but it’s really hard not to bend the rules for Gekko when all he’s done is from the goodness of his heart.
Gekko is aware of that fact, that you are fond of him and love him to a certain degree just like Reyna loves him; but it’s not enough. He doesn’t want the fraternal love from you,—hell he’d hate himself if all you see in him is a little brother,—he wants more, he needs you to reciprocate his feelings and love him with the same fervor he loves you.
He doesn’t understand how this started, falling in love with you so rapidly it scared him, but he embraces the experience and beautiful things you make him feel wholeheartedly, and is determined to make you fall for him too.
It starts with silly things: following after you like a lost puppy in search of approval right when training is over, opening the door for you to the gardens,—because the rest of the protocol had automatic sliding doors, he can’t be a gentleman if the premises don’t give him a chance!—or how he tries to get your attention with colorful comments and off-handed compliments that your brain can’t process because you don’t speak Spanish.
“Hoy te ves precioso!” is the sentence he often says to open up a conversation as his face flushes red.
You blink up at him, lips parting as you reply with a feeble: “You too.” Not knowing what he really means, and too embarrassed to ask for a translation after replying with the same thing over and over throughout the weeks.
Reyna attempts to hide her self-satisfactory smile behind her palm at the, once again, awkward display. You don’t know what about the interaction makes her amused, but since she doesn’t reprimand him for what he says, and Gekko always beams with excitement at your reply, you let it go and continue with your day as if nothing has happened.
Unbeknown to you, Reyna had to deliver the terrible news to Gekko of your lack of knowledge when it comes to other languages. To say he is beyond devastated is an overstatement, sulking in a corner when he realizes his compliments and love words have been lost due to him not being more considerate and shy of telling you things in your own language.
Anyhow, that’s a prime example of his interactions and moments where Gekko makes a fool of himself to gather your attention one way or another, often blushing, and sometimes stammering over his words because you make him feel funny.
He’s an adorable sight to behold when that happens. And it gets better when you comment on it on purpose, watching with delight his blush deepen and avoiding your gaze as if that alone could make him crumble.
But despite the many times you converse and how much time you spend together, what surprises you the most is how little interaction you have with his radivores.
You notice that fact when the rest of the agents often ask you about Gekko's crew whereabouts, as if you keep track of them. And each time you shake your head or shrug with a frown, the agent in question looks beyond confused, as if they can’t process the idea of you not knowing that kind of information.
The only time Wingman ever dared to approach you was when Gekko introduced himself the first time. Later on, the only instance you can think of is when Wingman accidentally ran into you in the hallway, bumping his little head on your leg as he carried a single peculiar flower between his claws.
When he noticed your presence, he clearly brightened up, jumping slightly in his place while presenting the little flower to you.
“For me?” you asked, crouching to his height. Taking the gift in your hand, you twirled the steam with a soft smile on your face, appreciating the color of the petals and how sweet it smelled. “Thank you, Wingman.”
Wingman nodded his head, happy to know you liked it, but then the small moment was broken by Gekko’s panicked voice echoing down the hallway. When Gekko spotted him, expression twisting into panic, Wingman ran behind you, as if trying to abscond from him.
“Did he say anything to you?!” He exclaimed, out of breath and showing signs of distress.
You raised a brow and shook your head.
“He's brought me this, that's all.”
His hazel eyes widened comically, you remember, face blushing profusely when he glared at Wingman as if he had committed a crime. The yellow fella tried to hide further as he gurgled something defensively.
“¡¿Wingman, qué demonios?! You said—! Bah!” Shaking his head, he began apologizing for his companion’s behavior before trailing after him to pick him up. Once the little one was secured between his arms, it gurgled something that made Gekko whine and color keep rising to his cheeks.
“What did he say?” you remember asking curiously. Gekko shifted in his place, as if startled by your question, and stammered over his words trying to find a coherent answer.
“N-Nothing important.” he managed to say, actively avoiding your gaze.
The image of him clearing his throat, cheeks ablaze and suddenly so shy made your heart flutter for a second. You blink, one hand hovering over your chest in confusion before watching him walk away without uttering another word.
Wingman excitedly waved goodbye over his shoulder, keeping on garbling words you could not understand until they went out of sight.
That was the last time you've seen Wingman interact near you without Gekko’s supervision. If it weren't because of missions or the times you train together, you wouldn't be able to see the little fella. And even then, Gekko always has him under a watchful gaze, not letting them get out of focus and retrieves his crew as soon as they are finished.
Unbeknown to you, all of this was always, always, observed by your dear friend.
“Gekko is around your age, you know?” Reyna teases, hiding a smirk behind her cup of tea. “You should spend more time with him.”
“He is?” Sipping carefully your own beverage, you hum softly. “He seems to be way younger though.”
She scoffs, “That's because you think and act like an old person.”
You pout.
“I do not.”
“You do, and that's why we get along so well, dear.”
Huffing under your breath, you refrain from replying, focusing on your drink rather than paying attention to her insult. Reyna chuckles at your defeated expression, amused, but doesn’t tease you further.
The comfortable moment is interrupted by Yoru entering the kitchen, muttering under his breath in anger and starts rummaging through the cabinets one by one, opening them with a grunt and slamming the poor doors back when he doesn’t find whatever he’s looking for. This goes for a little while as you both observe him with surprise.
Only when Yoru reaches the last cabinet, he curses outloud, kicking the furniture to vent his frustration.
“Language.” warns Reyna, narrowing her eyes. The rift walker turns to you both quickly, and the frown between his eyebrows soften ever so slightly when he sees you smile and nod your head in greeting.
“Have you seen any package with my name on it?” He asks, leaning on the table you are sitting. Reyna raises a brow, shaking her head.
“No.”
“God dammit.”
Yoru sighs in defeat, brushing his hair with his left hand. You share a look with Reyna, and she returns your gaze with a deadpan stare, shaking her head. She already knows you’re gonna be butting your head in business that does not concern you, and like always, you never listen to her.
“What’s the package you’re looking for?” His eyes land on you when you ask. Clearing his throat, he attempts to answer, but finds no words coming out of his mouth as you await patiently. Reyna notices the nervousness seeping out of him, completely out of character for the duelist, and scoffs under her breath when realization dawns on her.
When it takes longer than is expected for an answer, you try to help and ease the situation for him in case you've made him uncomfortable. “If you don't want to tell me it’s okay, I'm just curious.”
“No, is not that— I'm—”
“Corazón, is time for your meeting.” Reyna interrupts, nudging your arm slightly. “Go on, I'll help him with this matter.”
“Oh, shit, you’re right.”
Reyna rolls her eyes at you cussing out, but doesn’t say anything.
You finish what's left of your beverage in one go, feeling the warmness of the tea go down your throat pleasantly, and bid your goodbye to Reyna with a kiss on her cheek, and then pat Yoru's arm on your way out. Viper doesn't tolerate lateness and you are no exception to the rule, running to the meeting's room and praying you will get there on time before she chews you out.
Once out of sight, Reyna leans on the back of her chair, watching in amusement as Yoru keeps his sight set where you left and his hand clutching the place where you touched him. Clearing her throat, she manages to catch the younger's attention as he seems still lost in a daze.
“What.” he asks.
“Tonto enamorado,” she scoffs, Yoru doesn't understand what that means, “if you keep acting like a fool, they will never know what you really feel.”
The rift walker snarls, confused and offended by her words.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
"Yeah, sure, of course you don't.” Reyna rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping into her tone, “I don’t know who you’re fooling, but denying your emotions isn’t healthy.”
Yoru stands to his full height, suddenly uncomfortable being under her scrutinized gaze as she assesses him. He sort of understands what she means, but he doesn’t get where she’s coming from or why the topic is relevant now. It’s not often he indulges in small talk with anyone who isn’t Phoenix or Jett, but their bantering doesn’t equal this kind of conversation about something as heavy as his…feelings.
And when Reyna doesn’t push further and he doesn’t answer, goosebumps awaken in anxiety, stomach churning awkwardly, as if she could read his mind just by free will.
Reyna decides to stop then, bored of not getting a reaction out of him, and sighs with a roll of her eyes. She picks up her cup and yours, bringing it to the sink and cleaning them up while Yoru observes her quietly.
“You are not the only one after them, Yoru, so better figure out what's going on in that heart of yours.” She says mindlessly, drying her hands in a towel. “It is pounding.”
He can't help but think of it as a warning.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Gekko has been more than excited to be part of the reconnaissance mission despite the tired expressions his companions wear on the jet.
In honesty, his peppy personality is what's keeping the spirits up as you are on your way to Lotus; one of the few places Legion has found recently and have been abusing the radianite underground.
Cypher has been the one who has come to Lotus by himself to map out the terrain and make blueprints of the sites before deploying a team for further exploration. And if Viper’s intel is anything to go by, Legion was going to strike soon.
There are boxes loaded with Cypher’s cameras to place them around Lotus to keep surveillance and areas secured. At least until you come up with a good plan to deflect Legion’s attack in the future.
You tear your gaze away from the blueprints on top of a large table, huffing under breath as your eyes skim over your companions lounging around.
Omen is keeping quiet in the corner, arms crossed above his chest and head tilted to one side as he listens to Gekko talk non-stop about this or that—from the distance you can’t make out the topic they’re talking about, but it seems they are enjoying themselves, which is a relief. Omen seems to be indulging in the conversation despite his usual stoic stance, commenting things here and there to keep the conversation going, and Gekko is more than eager to continue ranting and entertaining him in the idle chatting.
Raze is dozing off in one of the cushionable seats with her headphones on, loud music blasting from it and, all in all, comfortable enough. You don’t have the heart to approach her to ask her to lower the volume in case she worsens her…listening problems. She looks worn-off and exhausted, and the rest might be good for her, or at least until you land and continue with your job. Only you know how much they all need to reserve energy if worse comes to happen.
Making sure they all look relaxed and resting, your gaze goes back to revising the blueprints with a tired sigh.
Cypher has been very meticulous with the information stolen from Legion and his discoveries. And the brief was more than enough to understand how the overgrown and desolated land works, enough to help navigate, at least; it would be your job to patch things up or re-design the map if there were things out of place or if something has changed between the last time Cypher came and the multiple times Legions has come.
It’s a lot to work on, but you think you will be fine.
Yoru exits the cockpit with a nod in your direction and approaches your side on the main table, almost hovering over your shoulder to see the blueprints, and narrows his eyes.
“Everything looks good?” he asks mindlessly. You nod, pursing your lips.
“I'm trying to see where we can set up the cameras without them being too obvious.” Pointing at site A, you continue, “Cypher said this is the most troubled site, since there are multiple passages and I'm worried we didn't bring enough of his set-up to cover the ground.”
“Seems easy enough to have one camera per site, right at their entrance, isn't it?”
“Yes, but then what about these other passages? There are moving doors and secret entry points, we have to look out for those as well.”
Yoru sighs, leaning his hand on the table and surveying the map, closing the gap between you two.
You don’t mind the sudden closeness, too concentrated on the map just like he is, and because you find it comforting having someone else worry about the plan and trying to not shoulder you with the heavy task. Because while it’s odd that Yoru wasn't whining about his personal space like he often does, you believe he was far too engrossed in his thoughts to notice, or perhaps he’s gone past that side of his to care.
It wasn't until he tries to point at the entrance of B site does he realize how close his face is to yours, feeling your breath fanning on his cheek gently. His eyes land on your curious gaze, and then down your lips, blinking slowly as embarrassment floods his system and his heart begins pounding loudly against his ribcage he fears you might hear it.
With his face lit like a lightbulb, Yoru apologizes quietly and takes a step to the side to make some distance.
Awkwardly, the rift walker tries to gather courage to talk before being interrupted loudly by an energetic voice, “Yo' fam, whatcha got there?”
Gekko steps in, throwing his arms over your shoulders as he gazes puzzled at the map. Yoru grunts, annoyance clear on his expression at his presence, and tries to move away from Gekko's friendly half-hug and shrugs him off.
The other seems nonchalant about Yoru’s sudden shift in mood, focused on the notes and pins on the map for camera locations. There is confusion for a split second on Gekko's face, but soon his expression turns into understanding as he nods to himself.
“Ohhh, I see, I see.” leaning on you, he points a finger at site A. “Here, it seems like this is a good spot for a camera. It checks both inside the site and the room next to the moving doors.”
“Okay, but what about here?” You point to bricks, right beside Legion’s entrance, “Cypher said there are secret passages to other sites if you break the walls, and we reduce our vision concentrating on these points you mention.”
“Nah, girl, we can have this covered up from here.” His finger hovers over the stairs to your landing area, right next to site A, “That way, if they push site, we can see it from way before. It gives us a cross too, with the other camera.”
There was no fault to his proposition. Considering the pros and cons, you decide what Gekko suggests might work, even for future reference if the enemy doesn't find the placements.
You keep conversing with Gekko the rest of the flight to polish details to the last bit; changing positions of the pins and jolting down possible locations if the initial idea doesn’t work. Gekko throws a joke here and there to lighten up the mood, easing the tension and making you laugh without much effort.
He hesitates when he puts his hand on top of yours, thumb caressing the skin gently as his cheeks redden slightly.
“Everything will go according to plan, yeah? Don’t worry that pretty head of yours.” He says with a nervous tilt in his voice.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You reassure him, squeezing his hand. “We’ll finish quickly, fix the blueprints, and then we can go back and maybe we'll get something nice to eat?”
“I love that plan,” he mutters, his smile trembling from the nerves. “I can take you to that nice restaurant Waylay told me about, eh? Just…just you and me?”
With a nudge on his shoulder, you roll your eyes playfully, tightening the hold on his warm hand, “And not take the team with us?”
“U-Uh, I was hoping…um, yes?”
Laughing softly, you begin to take the pins out of the map and fold it, small enough to fit in your small strapped bag. When you notice Gekko toying with the hem of his sweater, eyes downcast and muttering in a low voice, as if chastising himself, your heart melts with affection.
You stop next to him on the way to the cockpit, smiling, “It can be just you and me. Our little secret, yeah?”
With a wink you continue your way, missing entirely Gekko’s face lit up red as he processes your answer and then yanks his fist up in a triumphant pose.
When the jet lands, Omen and Raze help you by deploying the boxes with Cypher’s camera to the landing point since they are heavy to take in one go. Raze yawns, strapping her spectre to her back as she stretches with an energetic yell, trying to wear off the drowsiness from her long nap. Gekko surveys the surroundings with Omen next to him, blinking in curiosity as he doesn’t seem to spot Yoru with the team.
“Have you seen Yoru?” he asks you, raising a brow.
“No.” The wraith replies for you, “He usually leaves on his own to check the terrain, is not something you should worry over.”
“Are you sure?”
“He is going to be okay, Gekko,” you reassure him. “He is experienced enough to know not to wander off so far away. But I hope he comes back soon.”
An arm is thrown over your shoulders suddenly, startling you and making you yelp in surprise. When you turn around to punch whoever this is, your fist is caught on Yoru's strong hold, startling you even more.
“What the—?”
Yoru smirks, letting your hand go.
“What? Missed me that much, huh?” The teasing in his tone goes right over your head, rolling your eyes as you sigh.
“I thought you went ahead by yourself," you whisper, huffing a laugh. “The team won’t be able to do this by themselves, Yoru. We need someone strong to cover our blind spots, yes?”
Caught off guard by your compliment, Yoru backs off, covering his face with his hand as he walks away to avoid being seen flustered.
“Don't go too far yet!” You yell.
“Shut up!” He replies, mortified.
Omen watches the scene play out in silence, concerned by Yoru's actions and how unfazed you were by his odd attitude. Even at the distance Yoru has made from the group, he notices the reddened ears of the Japanese man and how jumpy he gets when Raze approaches him to speak.
“Everything okay, Omen?” you ask. The wraith nods, waving a hand dismissively in the air.
“I’m good.” he picks up a camera, weighing it in his palm. “So, how are we doing this?”
“Oh, I've sent a copy of the rough map to each of your devices, so you can navigate it easily.” You begin, catching everyone's attention. “I’ve updated it with the new placements for the cameras, but all of this was planned without the knowledge of if there were high ceilings or open spaces, so beware of that. The more hidden they are, the more it helps us.”
Raze enthusiasm shines through, “Kay' chefinho! Where do you want us?”
“I'd like to have Omen and Yoru go to C site, Raze and Gekko will take B.” Checking the map once again, you continue, “I'll check A in the meantime, since it’s the biggest site so far. I'll be polishing the original map so we can have the most updated blueprint. Once you're done setting the cameras, please join me at A and then we can go over to B and later on C to check if everything is working correctly.”
“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself?” Gekko asks, a frown visible on his features. Yoru scoffs, pissed off.
“Not trusting the one in charge now, are we?”
“No, no! I didn't mean it like that. I-I’m worried, that's all!”
“Worry about your ass, idiot.”
Taking the first box, you cut off their argument, “I'll be fine, you both, cut it out. The sooner you finish, the faster I can do my own work. If anything happens, please communicate it.”
With that, everyone sets off.
Cleaning the rough draft of A site takes you a little longer than you anticipated. The rotating doors in trees were by far the most intricate system that you’ve seen in your life, not quite grasping the mechanics since the technology behind it doesn’t seem to be human made. The complexity of the material nor the engineering makes sense; you might have to ask Astra about this once you are back. Perhaps her or Harbor might have a better idea of what makes this work without electricity.
The secret passage, that indeed does exist, ends up being a breakable door that goes right to site B, with a little room before it and a tiny window above a wall that overlooks the site, which makes things complicated to map out since it isn’t in the original map.
Gekko’s head pops out of the door, startled by the commotion, but his alarmed expression turns relieved when he spots you standing in the grass, waving at him in a quiet apology.
“We're almost done here, hermosa, we will join you in a bit!” he says, grinning sheepishly.
Ah, again with that word—you will have to ask him for the meaning later when you go back to the jet. With an adorable smile, he retreats back into his site.
Setting the cameras isn’t as difficult as you first believed now that you have the spots figured out. Cypher was kind enough to lend a couple pairs of his perfected gloves to handle his technology; the cameras stick to surfaces easily when you let go of them, and when you need to retrieve them to place them higher, a simple motion of the gloves calls them back to your palms.
The task is done half the time expected as you finish placing the last camera on the stairs to your landing, nodding to yourself as you are satisfied with your work.
This was very thoughtful of Cypher to give the gloves to the team. You’re going to have to thank him once you are back.
“We've finished with C.” Omen's voice could be heard through the ear pieces. “Yoru has gone off somewhere, but he will join us in a bit at A”
Raze’s voice joins in, “Gekko and I are finished too! We are packing the leftover cameras and will meet up soon.”
Satisfied with the outcome of A site and checking the drafts once more, you wait patiently for your teammates to join you. The four of you meet up at the stairs, ready to march off to B to start making the roughs of the new blueprint, when the ear pieces buzz suddenly it startles the whole lot of you.
No voice comes through at first, listening to gunshots being fired in the background and heavy breathing stuttering when one shot rings too closely.
“Legion is here! Rushing towards C site, four of them spotted!" Yoru's voice resonates in panic, grunting, “I'll teleport at our landing, but they are coming fast. One is missing, beware!”
Omen and Raze are the first ones to react, taking their guns out and running towards C site. The ear pieces buzzed with Raze's voice coming through,“I'll try to stop them from pushing with my grenades, but try to look for the little rat, since they might be flanking us right now!”
Taking your gun out, you signal Gekko to go B. “Let's push through A and B, and see if we can find their flank to kill them.”
He nods, Wingman and Dizzy materializing as he runs off without a word.
You exit the zone explored with a bulldog in hand, checking behind the bricked wall and holding an angle at the entrance of Legion’s landing, holding your breath for a second before jogging to the entryway. The many angles at this part of the map are hard to predict since you haven’t explored them in depth yet, only having a rough idea of what you might have in storage as you keep walking cautiously. Clutching your gun tighter, you hold your breath before turning the last corner, facing Omega Jett holding an operator and aiming it right at you.
She doesn't last long when Dizzy comes out of nowhere, blinding her and making her miss the shot by mere millimeters. The bullet graces your right arm, barely scratching the surface of the skin, and then you see her drop dead as Gekko pops out from mid.
There is panic in his eyes as he roams your body for any sign of injuries, closing the distance with long strides, and trembling hands reaching for your face, cupping your cheeks with tenderness and worry written all over his expression.
“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he asks rapidly, checking you from head to toe.
Something in your chest tightness at his worry, wanting nothing more than to lean into his warm touch and gaze into his hazel eyes as you reassure him that everything was going to be okay.
But time was running out, and Raze and Omen were in danger if they were still trying to hold Legion back. It has been quite a while since they’ve given back any comms of the site status, and Yoru hasn’t said anything either, which worries you.
“I'm okay, let's go.”
Both of you rush to C, with Gekko stopping to retrieve Dizzy before joining you, and swing C long to find no one holding their flank. Dread churns your stomach when a symphony of gunshots breaks through the stillness, all coming from the site as the ticking of the spike could be heard amongst all sounds.
“We've dealt with the flank.” You speak through the earbuds, approaching the entrance. “We are on the flank.”
“They planted the bomb, two are left on site but Raze is injured, so am I.” Omen grunts in pain. “I can make a one-way on the tall box on site and CT to separate them. We will fire shots to distract and get their attention.”
Yoru’s voice cuts in, “I'll throw a flash on site when you near the entrance, we three are in waterfall right now. Hurry the fuck up.”
Gekko reloads his gun and takes Wingman out, the little radivore jumping onto Gekko’s shoulder and waving his little arm at you, ready for the plan in action.
“Go!”
“Smoking off!”
“Flashing!”
“Go wingman!”
You swing at the time the flash goes off and spot Omega Viper hiding behind the tall wooden boxes. She doesn't seem to get blinded by Yoru’s flash, but as soon as Wingman gets to the spike planted, you take action before she gets the chance to shoot him.
The spike starts to get defused, and you immediately start shooting straight at the box, hearing her yell in pain until she drops dead.
Entering the site, you reload your gun while Wingman keeps defusing. Omen did mention there were only two left, one of them already dead, and since your team is on waterfall, the only place left is either on site or CT.
Omega Breach peaks from behind the pillar on backsite when you stand next to Wingman, shooting you with a judge and injuring your legs. As you fall on one knee, you turn your body with a quick flick, headshotting him just in time for Wingman to finish with the defuse.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn to see the Viper’s smoke turn off, watching Raze lean on a wall with slight blood seeping down her temple, and Omen right next to her with Yoru in the far back. She gives a thumbs up, grinning widely.
You turn to look at CT, Omen’s smoke vanishing in wisps of air, and you are suddenly faced with Omega Raze holding an Operator aiming right at your head.
What happens next goes in a blur.
There is one bullet being shot, a grenade goes off above your head towards the ceiling, and then, your ears get deafened. The side of your stomach bursts in pain as you fall on the floor, your throat constricts with a scream tearing from your insides as you try to stop the bleeding from the gunshot while twisting and folding on yourself through agony and sobs.
Your head is hit with the broken debris coming from the ceiling, disorienting you as you try to place sounds and what's happening around, but when one of the biggest pieces of brick falls right in your knee, breaking it instantly, your world turns dark as you faint for a moment.
Someone is carrying your limp body while you regain consciousness, a lot of voices muffled in the background arguing and yelling at each other you don't have the energy to shut them or ask what’s going on.
Was everyone okay? Were there anyone injured?
Did someone die?
Your closed eyes dampen with unshed tears as you groan weakly, feeling the pain travelling to all sides of your body as you register the many lethal wounds littering each inch of your skin.
When you open your eyes slowly, the devastated look on Gekko's face a few meters away from you should have told you enough of how bad the situation was. Raze was not far behind him, Omen carrying part of her weight as she laments loudly, apologizing because she miscalculated her nade throw, and the bomb landed on site instead of CT.
When your heavy gaze lands on the person carrying you, you startle at Yoru’s expression morphed to reflect the anger and disdain of the chain of events that occurred and he couldn’t stop.
His eyes soften when he looks at you, eyes roaming your injuries with quiet worry plastered on his expression. You raise a hand and try to smoothen the frown between his eyebrows with gentle but shaky touches, hardly breathing at the exhausting action.
“You will get wrinkles if you keep frowning.” you whisper brokenly, eyelids fluttering in tiredness. Yoru doesn't say anything.
While you still won, it doesn’t feel satisfactory as a victory.
Omen has been the one to call Brimstone to return to the protocol, the jet opening the doors carefully and rising dust into the air as it activates by itself.
You whimper at the strike of pain coursing through your body when you cough at the rising sand, unconsciously tightening your grip on Yoru's neck to find some relief. The rift walker mutters something in his language as he fixes you in his arms, carefully pressing you against his body to protect you from the wind.
Once inside the jet, everyone is able to breathe a sigh of relief, except for you. Still in critical condition, Yoru reaches the compartment room to deposit you on a makeshift bed, and starts rummaging through the cabinets for something to treat you until you land at the base.
The sight reminds you of the day you encountered him in the kitchen, all jittery and anxious for a package you never knew what it contained; though this time, he looks beyond distressed and angry.
With a few antiseptics and bandages, he finds nothing else might help than these stupid items.
Yoru is quick when he undresses you, peeling your shirt away and hissing under his breath at the dampness of the clothing, and gently checks on the injury. Gekko winces at the unsightly view of the blood pooling under your body and the clear pain tugging at your facial features, proving to be too much for him to bear as he gets dizzy.
Still, he stands there, watching as Yoru wraps bandages around your midsection to keep you from bleeding out.
“Are you going to stand there or are you going to fucking help me?!” he yells at him over his shoulder.
Gekko startles, gulping down his anxiousness and jogs to the other side of the makeshift bed with his hands hovering in the air, lost and confused. Yoru grunts in annoyance, tugging tight the wrappings and making a secured knot to keep the pressure. Even then, Gekko can see the blood seeping through the white bandages at an alarming rate that has him shaking in place.
“Put pressure on the wound,” Yoru orders him, walking to the top of the bed to check the concussion in your head. “Do not let go, they have already lost so much blood.”
He does as he’s told, biting his lip as the tip of his fingers and gloves tint red as he applies his weight on his palms. You groan in pain, hissing when Yoru turns your head to the side.
The rest of the flight back, both of them work to keep you stable, with Omen joining to replace Gekko as the younger watches quietly on the sidelines.
Neither of them leave your side.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
You are shaken awake by sudden gurgling noises filling the silent room. When you open your eyes, you are immediately met with Wingman’s eyes and one of his paws resting gently on your cheek. His usual round and bright eyes are turned downwards, and his gurgling sounds distressed, shaking your shoulder to gain your attention.
Blinking through the dizziness, you gather the energy to smile at the little fella. Raising your arm, you bring Wingman closer to your sore body, melting into the warmth he radiates as he gurgles something in his language, accepting the hug and reciprocating the affection given.
Your eyes skims all over the room, blinking through a haze as you try to piece together what has happened in the time you’ve been unconscious. You notice the white sheets covering your body, and the wounds that were inflicted have healed nicely. It’s clear you didn’t die, or else the soreness wouldn’t exist coursing your muscles; perhaps Skye healed you, or Miks, if the injuries weren’t lethal. Either way, you are more than thankful for whoever helped you.
Thoughts halt when you notice the door to your room open quietly, and a green head pokes in slowly. For when Gekko notices you are awake, he can’t escape as guilt churns his chest, making him fully step into the room and close the door with a quiet shut.
It takes a couple of seconds for him to regain his composure, clearing his throat as he avoids your eyes.
“I didn’t mean for him to bother you, perdón.” Taking his little friend between his arms, he manages to calm Wingman down before approaching you and sitting on the single chair next to the bed.
There is a frown between his eyebrows, gaze down as he struggles to maintain a calm façade in your presence. You cock your head to the side, eyes softening when your eyes meet for a brief second as he flushes red, and your heart flutters with warmness spreading from your limbs to the tip of your fingers.
“Wingman was keeping me company,” you mention with a quiet laugh.
“Ah, o-of course he was.” he stammers, fiddling with his fingers nervously.
Gekko doesn’t say anything else for the matter, keeping quiet as Wingman looks between him and your laying form. The little fella tries to wiggle out from his hold, but Gekko stares at him, shaking his head that makes him still.
Tiredness begins to tug at your eyelids, sighing deeply as you close your eyes and hum under your breath. Your muscles relax, and your breathing regulates to something far calmer at the silence.
When Gekko notices it, he assumes you’ve fallen asleep once again. He supposes you need to regain some energy before leaving the medical bed; Sage has been very adamant to let him know to not disturb you too much, or at least until you could stand on your own. No one wants to risk you stressing your body before you are due for release.
Gekko doesn’t feel reassured though. You wouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this if it weren’t for him and his weakness in battle. If only he'd been quicker to protect you, if only he would have gotten to you before Yoru did to rescue you, if only he wasn’t the one who froze and stood there like an idiot as the ceiling kept falling on you…
He is frustrated, because Yoru got to do all he wanted in the first place to ensure you were going to be okay. But he is also feeling guilty for harboring jealousy inside his chest just because he couldn’t be the one to take care of you.
Love is a familiar emotion to him, easy to understand and easier to spot on others when they’re wearing their heart on their sleeves.
The way Yoru held you, the way he looks at you and how fondly, despite him not noticing, he talks about you is enough to tell the man is infatuated just like he is. And who wouldn’t, honestly.
His eyes roam your face slowly, taking in every detail of your features while you sleep comfortably.
“I don’t know what to do…” he whispers brokenly. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Wingman rests a little paw on his cheek, little eyes sad. Gekko blinks back the need to cry, heaving a shuddering sigh.
“It’s so unfair.” he keeps going, retrieving Wingman into an orb and inside his pouch; he can feel them worry, and it only serves to make him be overcome by emotions. He doesn’t want any of his crew looking at him right now. “Soy un egoista, wanting to keep you for myself and despising Yoru just because…just because he got to carry you.”
Your eyebrow twitches at his declaration, but Gekko doesn’t notice as he is far too gone in his sadness.
“I’m so fucking stupid. You were injured, you were in critical condition and it was only Yoru’s quick thinking that kept you alive.” He picks your hand resting on the bed, and you feel him trembling and palm clammy with sweat from the anxiousness, “But I wanted to be the one to save you. I want nothing more than for you to look at my way and just…and just love me.”
He sniffs, cleaning the tears that have rolled down his cheeks with his arm. Gekko coughs slightly, feeling his throat constrict with so many words he doesn’t know where to begin.
“I’m so selfish, I’m angry, but more than anything, I’m tired of not being enough to be with you.” He barks a gentle but broken laugh, “Soy un maldito desastre. I can’t even say these things to your face in fear of…i-in fear of you…not…”
A quiet sob escapes his lips, and you listen to him cry as he cradles your hand close to him. Gekko leans on the bed, forehead resting on the back of your hand as he sobs quietly. The emotions clouding his head are overwhelming, thoughts jumbling and twisting like live wires being cut off. The headache pounding in his brain doesn’t help in the slightest while he calms down, afraid you might wake up to a version of him he doesn’t feel ready to show.
“I love you.” he whispers once, and your heart falters. “You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”
To be brave and take what he wants with greed, that’s one of the things Reyna has taught him before joining Valorant. Life is too short to live with insecurities and fear of things not working out, with many opportunities wasted and words not being said because it can be cut short anytime and when they least expect it.
Gekko knows she was referring to everything in general, but he wishes this could be applied here for his sake.
He doesn't want to lose you to another person, despite him not feeling enough, because the truth is he really wants you for himself.
Gulping down his insecurities and the tight knot on his throat, he decides to do something about it.
Anxiousness washes over him when he leans over slowly, never letting go of your hand and his fingertips caressing your cheek tenderly, looking at your resting face with an enamored expression.
His lips are cold when he closes the small gap between your mouth, trembling as a cold shiver runs down his spine pleasantly, and he gasps into the kiss. It’s soft, you are soft, as he lingers and memorizes the feeling like his life depends on it.
His heart is racing rapidly, he can hear his own beating reverberating inside his head and warmth filling his face, a blush spreading through his cheekbones fastly when he moves his lips slowly against yours—just for a taste, he tells himself, sighing into your mouth.
There is a moment of hesitation when Gekko feels your lips move, but attributes it to his mind playing tricks on him. He’s enjoying himself, he’s enjoying your taste as his tongue peeks out and licks your lower lips, making the press of mouths a little rougher as his enthusiasm gets the better of him.
When a hand lands on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss he’s so thoroughly drowned in, Gekko jumps surprised, backing up until he slips and falls to the floor with a startled shout.
Before him you lay, eyes wide open and lips parted. Your cheeks are flushed with a beautiful soft shade darker than your skin, a hand hovering over your moist mouth, and gaze full of adoration he thinks he’s dreaming of.
“I-I’m, I didn’t mean to—! I’m so sorry!” he scrambles to his feet, hand hovering in the air as mortification gakes over his features, “I- I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry, I-”
Huffing to yourself, you stop him from his stuttering and furthering his embarrassment by raising a hand.
“Hey, look at me.”
When he makes eye contact, you offer him a seat next to you on bed, scooting over so he could fit easily. Gekko hesitates, which is surprising given what just transpired a few moments ago, but gives in when you reassure him everything is okay.
“Reyna told me you had a crush on me.” You confess when he lays next to you, shoulder to shoulder. Gekko chokes up, blush spreading rapidly over his cheeks at being this exposed. “I never understood the concept of having a crush on someone, it was…weird knowing you harbor those feelings for me.”
Gekko hums at that, eyes downcast.
Grinning slightly, you keep going, “But that didn’t stop you, huh.”
“Por favor, ya para…” he whines, covering his face with his hands.
“I don’t mind the kiss, Gekko. In fact, I enjoyed it very much.” You reassure him. Gekko peeks at you between his fingers, “But why didn’t you say anything about how you felt?”
Breathing out a shaky sigh, Gekko rests his hands on his lap, toying with the fabric of his sweater, “I was afraid of being rejected; even more if it was you because…because I’m in love with you. Reyna told me that I should have just gone for it a long time ago but…No sé, nunca, um, you’ve never shown interest in me.”
Silence falls over you two as you ponder about his words. Gekko can’t bring himself to look you in the eye after his confession, afraid of encountering the nightmare of you not reciprocating.
“Being in love is something that never crossed my mind.” You say truthfully, reaching for his hand and clasping your hands together. “There are many things happening at Valorant and around the world that love was never a priority. For me, at least.”
“I understand,” he mutters, lips tight on a line.
“But I think I like you.” You continue, feeling him startle next to you. “I’m not sure what I feel yet but kissing you, being with you, makes me feel…funny, you know? Like I got butterflies in my stomach.”
Gekko’s lips part in disbelief.
“So, if that is no issue, and that's something you want, we can try being together.”
If it’s something he wants? Yes, definitely!
Gekko doesn’t know how long he’s been smitten with you, maybe far too long to have let his affection simmer slowly and candent. And now that you’re saying such sweet things, how could he ever miss this opportunity?
“Gekko?” you ask, worry twisting your features. He hasn’t said a thing for a while and you fear you might have said the wrong thing.
“Call me Mateo, mi amor.” he says breathlessly. Blinking at him, you nod slowly. “ Mateo will do just fine, yeah?”
“Mateo…, I like that name.” You try it out, liking how his name rolls off your tongue nicely.
He leans to land a kiss in the corner of your mouth, watching your lips curve with a gentle grin, “Yeah, like that.”
Just seeing your smile brings such a tender emotion to his heart, making him giddy for the outcome of the situation and that everything worked out in his favor. Laughing brightly, he smooches every inch of your skin near him, cupping your cheeks to keep you in place as his lips roam your face; from your eyelids to your cheeks and chin, you giggle at his sweet ministrations, unable to escape from his touch and affection.
“Se mía.” he asks, lips an inch away from yours. The positions have changed slightly, with him hovering over you as he gazes deeply into your eyes. “I’m completely yours, so please be mine, too.”
Caressing his face between your palms you nod, drowning into his hazel eyes just like the first time. His enamoured expression pulls at your heartstrings, melting your heart as you steal a quick peck from his lips, heart jumping into your chest.
Laughing, Mateo meets you half-way through the next kiss, drowning into each other sweetly and with an unrestrained passion that has you sighing into his mouth.
He swallows every single sound coming from your lips, deepening the kiss till the point it bruises but not caring much since he is too busy mapping out every corner of your mouth. The sliding of his lips against yours is addictive, greedy as your tongue meets his and begins fighting for domination. Your hands travel from his face to his neck and down his back in gentle caresses, clutching onto his sweater for leverage when he sticks his tongue into your mouth, making you gasp in surprise.
You only give each other a brief second to breathe before Gekko buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting softly and nibbling on the skin to get a taste of you. You sigh in pleasure at one specific bite from him between the juncture of shoulder and neck, and Gekko decides he needs to listen to it again.
But when he realizes the position you’re in and where you’re located, he refrains himself from going further before anyone decides to walk in on you two. [But if he’s honest, he wouldn’t mind if Yoru were the person to discover you both in the compromising position.]
Reluctantly making space between you two, he lays his head on your chest, the rapid beating of your heart soothing him and making him giddy knowing he is the reason you’re this agitated.
“What 's wrong?” you ask, hand resting at the top of his head and scratching the scalp. Mateo sighs at the nice sensations.
“I’d rather wait until you’re better before doing…um, anything else.”
Blinking through the haze after the make-out, you wonder outloud, “Have sex?”
“D-Don’t say it! It’s embarrassing!”
You laugh, the scratching travelling to the base of his neck as you wink at him. Mateo blushes and pouts at your teasing, but it doesn’t hold any real heat behind it. You watch him for a moment before nudging him gently.
“Kiss me?” you ask, and oh, how could he say no to you?
He gulps and nods, leaning on his right arm to reach your lips again and kiss you deeply. You smile through your locked lips, and Mateo’s heart races even faster when your hand lands gently above the hem of his pants, right on his lower back. Your fingertips go under his sweater, the warm skin of your fingers sending electric waves through his spine and down into his core.
Gekko is sure if you keep this up, he will give no shits to whoever walks-in to whatever happens next. The burning fire in the pit of his stomach only grows by the second the more you tease him, kissing him passionately as you get lost in each other’s taste.
You're addictive, you're sweet—
But most importantly, you're his.
Crush [NSFW]
Gekko x M!Reader
Warnings: Male reader, smut, voyerism, masturbation, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, fluff, Gekko is head over heels for you, submissive Gekko, dominant Reader.
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It feels hot.
So fucking hot, he is this close to start stripping out of his own skin to feel some sort of relief.
The windows are closed in this tiny room of yours, and with no way to let the air get in, Gekko thinks this is the closest to a furnace he will ever be in. He wonders how the fuck did you survive living in this place before moving into the protocol. Did you just get used to it, or were you that much of a masochist?
A little warning wouldn't have hurt before accepting your invitation. You should have let him know that his body was going to become roasted by the time morning rolls around instead of making sweet eyes and offering a room by your side to spend the night.
Not that he complains about that, he was more than eager to accept the offer with no regards to what it could possibly mean for your relationship. Because who would dare to reject their long time crush sharing a bed together? Besides, it was either that or a hotel with a bunch of his friends who decided to reserve two rooms at the last minute for the night.
He didn’t want to deal with Phoenix and Yoru in a single room, thank you. To be the third wheel for those two only screams of trouble, and knowing them, they wouldn’t care if Gekko was present or not to go at it all night. The thought alone makes him shudder.
At the end he couldn’t deny you; it was a win-win situation for everyone involved. Phoenix will finally have his alone time with Yoru, and Gekko can have his own time with you.
Although this bonding would be better if you were awake and not sleeping soundlessly next to him. As soon as you changed clothes and hit the bed, you might as well be dead to the world. A heavy sleeper you are, damn.
Maybe if he were braver, a little cuddle session might have taken place. He knows you wouldn’t mind if asked; you are very affectionate with everyone, especially him out of all your friends at the protocol. But with how shy Gekko is when it comes to physical affection— at least when it comes to you— and with how sweaty and damp his skin was starting to get, he’d probably have combusted on the spot from the overwhelming sensations: both good and bad.
It's almost like everything around was trying to play against him to make Gekko as distressed as possible, losing his mind bit by bit when all he wants is to bask in your presence and perhaps daydream about you a little bit.
But you’re sleeping peacefully right beside him, a little too close to his personal space, snoring softly and lips parted slightly letting out puffs of warm breath against his bare shoulder. If it weren’t because he was getting uncomfortable with the covers and his shorts, giddiness would have taken control over him a long time ago.
And much to his dismay, he was starting to second-guess himself over this decision. Perhaps this was not a good call after all, and maybe staying with Phoenix and Yoru wasn’t going to be so bad.
Hell, staying with the girls was an option too. Raze and Killjoy knew Gekko was in love with you, and Neon was in a committed relationship with Fade to be thinking about hooking up with someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend; they’d have been welcoming to his presence.
“I’m sweating…” he whispers tiredly, dragging a hand through his face.
He startles after a second, feeling a huff of breath closer to him as you close the small gap between your bodies. You swing a leg over his thighs, fixing your position as you hug his torso flush against you and burrowing your face on his neck, nose lingering right below his chin.
Gekko can't help but gasp when your knee nudges against his sex unconsciously. Your dormant body moves on its own, accommodating yourself until you land a comfortable position and start rubbing your knee up and down until you find the perfect spot without noticing all you're doing is making friction against his now half-hard dick.
With his face warm and biting his lower lip to stop an embarrassing sound, Gekko wishes your actions didn't have this effect on him so fast. Up this close, he can feel the pressure of your own dick against his thigh and the soft breaths against his neck does nothing but enhance the tension—you're making him lightheaded and horny with all the blood rushing to his groin.
With reluctance, he decides to push you away, avoiding touching you where he shouldn't until some healthy distance is made and he can finally breathe despite missing your touch.
You mutter something in your sleep, his name, in that sweet voice of yours which ignites the desire burning him from the inside, and makes his cock throb in reaction.
He desperately wants to touch himself and get rid of this boner and you, splayed next to him with your neck bare and the covers barely hiding your own arousal in the tight boxers you're wearing, isn't helping with how enticing you look in his eyes.
His member twitches inside his trousers with the need of release, and hands get clammy with how often he flexes them to distract his urge to masturbate. Gulping once, he thinks 'fuck it' before kicking down the covers and pulling down the trousers to free his hard member from its confines.
The soft glow of the moon through the window gives enough light to see the precum gathering at the tip of his cock, fully erect with the veins protruding on the sides. He scratches softly around the base, teasing himself, and his fingers skims the sides of his member with a feather-like touch until he is cupping his balls with one hand.
Fuck, he really is doing this, huh.
His thumb runs down the tip, covering the head in slick circular motions and giving in the barest stimulation to keep himself on edge. Gekko knows he should be working on this faster and get it over with, but there is this darkening thought clouding his lusted mind that he will never get the chance to have the person of his affection this close nor vulnerable for him to be able to fantasize freely.
Besides, the fact that you could be waking up anytime, catching him with his hand engulfing his hard cock and masturbating has him reeling in adrenaline.
Gekko moves his hand slowly, throwing his head back against the pillows and squirming when relief floods over his body. Biting his lower lip to refrain from making noises, he breathes out harshly, gasping, when one specific stroke sends a shiver down his spine.
He peeks at you, deep in slumber and still displayed for him to look without shame. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, down your chest until it lands on your crotch and your thighs.
Gekko wouldn't mind sucking you off while he masturbates, he thinks, finding the thought fascinating as he notices that, through the boxers, your member looks engorged and enticing that his mouth waters just imagining its taste.
“Ah, fuck—” His hand trembles when he accelerates the speed, wrist flicking rapidly, and closes his eyes as gasps slips from his lips.
Gekko has been thrusting into his hand unconsciously, hips lifting from the bed and trying to chase after the pleasurable feeling, wanting nothing more than to cum with your name on his tongue. His hand is covered in so much of his slick it makes the sliding easier and quicker for him to handle, but it also makes the sounds filthier and louder.
“Ah, ah! God-” He groans high pitched this time, mouth parting in a broken whimper when his thumb stimulates the head of his dick once again.
His other hand is holding onto the bed sheets to ground himself, getting lost in the euphoria and pleasure racking his body. Gekko is so focused on reaching his climax that he fails to notice a pair of eyes watching him perform this filthy act without shame.
When his hips start bucking wildly, he snatches his hand away to stop himself from cumming. The tightening knot that was about to snap on his belly has him gasping in pain for denying the salving grace of release. Gekko was so close to spurting every bit of his semen all over his stomach and thighs without control, but found the idea to delay it tempting. To keep himself on edge feels much more delicious than to succumb so easily—besides, it works well as a punishment for doing this right next to you.
Gekko opens his eyes, breathing slowly until his eyes travel to his still standing cock between his legs. There is a thin layer of sweat covering his stomach, proof of the exertion of the act that is taking place, and feels his whole body burn from the heat and frying his brain with lust.
Lightheaded and pleasure clouding his senses, he thinks he imagines things when a hand that is not his makes presence on his field of vision and grabs the base of his dick firmly, unknown fingers wrapping gently.
Gekko’s surprised moans echo within the room when the hand starts masturbating him without a warning. It sparks the dying heat into something stronger that his whole body trembles and thrashes against the intruding hand engulfing his cock.
“What happened? Keep going.” Your sultry voice startles him, making a shudder wrack his body in the best way possible. Lips caresses the shell of his ear while you whisper words of encouragement. “You were giving such a good show. How filthy of you, Gekko, to have fun without inviting me.”
“Fuck, fuck!” He leans his head to the side, locking eyes through the darkness and a shiver runs down his spine with how lustful your gaze is. Gekko groans when your fingers squeeze the head of his cock, moving your thumb in circular motions. “Please, god, please!”
“Am I a god now?” you tease. Scooting closer, but maintaining your hand moving up and down slowly, you kiss his cheek and make your way down his chest, biting and sucking every inch of his skin until you land near his stomach, kissing right above his happy trail. “Preach to me like your god, Gekko. Be a good boy for me and say my name, yeah?”
Taking your hand away, Gekko whines in protest, desperate to cum and hips lifting to feel the friction of your hand grabbing his dick. Whatever words he was going to utter die at the back of his throat, replaced by garbling noises with the shock of having your lips wrapping at the head of his member wetly and warmly.
Gekko keens in desperation, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you bob up and down his pulsating cock. Your tongue lays flat on the underside of his member, mapping out the protruding veins on the shaft and making pressure exactly where he needs it to keep the stimulation constant while sucking him off and drinking the pre-cum rolling down your throat.
Gekko can't help but moan your name with embarrassment burning his face, hands flying to the back of your head and thrusting against your throat that tightens around his cock with every pulsating second.
You bat your eyelashes, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you gag on his dick, and hum deeply.
“Please, let me cum, please.” Gekko chants your name like a prayer, hips rising from the bed to chase your mouth with desperation.
Moaning around his member, as if you were the one being pleasured, and hollowing your cheeks, Gekko finally crumbles, holding you in place as he thrusts weakly against your lips. His orgasm hits hard and just right, dots of light bursts behind his eyelids and the burning fire explodes on your mouth with heavy spurts of his seed.
His semen is hot and heavy on your tongue, salty with something else you cannot put a name on. You drink every drop as if it were an elixir, milking him from all he is worth until there is nothing else but overstimulation coursing through his veins.
Gekko whines, satisfied and tired, and tries to make you back away by pushing your shoulders because the extra stimulation is killing him in a way he finds so good and leaving him eager for more. Is a masochist thinking, because he is close to passing out from one single climax, he can't fathom thinking about cumming a second time, but craves for it if it’s for you.
“No more…please— ah!” Sucking harshly on the tip of his cock, Gekko moans, and you let go with a wet pop, licking your lips. His hands lay flat on the bed, breathing through his nose and gulping down the saliva that was pooling in his mouth.
“Look at you,” you coo sweetly, hovering over his body enticingly. “So spent after the first round, my poor Teo.”
Taking the trousers off that were hanging by his knees, Gekko is finally naked and bare for you to admire with greed. He is breathing rapidly, trying to still and calm his rapid heartbeats pounding loudly against his ribcage. You’ve never noticed before, but the tattoos framing his arms go way deeper, covering part of his chest and down his navel in intricate swirls of colors.
He is just a work of art.
The sight makes you tremble with eagerness, because all of this? Just for you? Ah, you hit the jackpot.
Squirming under you, Gekko whimpers, feeling exposed in so many ways he doesn't know where to begin. However, he likes being underneath you. With this imposing aura of strength and power you emit, he could start swooning if it weren't for how boneless he feels or the embarrassment that would wash over him for exposing his feelings so openly.
Gekko watches you with bated breath when you crawl and cage him between your legs, taking your shirt off ever so slowly, giving him a little show of flexing your arms and uncovering the skin inch by agonizing inch.
Throat dry, Gekko gasps when you pull your boxers low enough to free your member, bouncing against your stomach and perking up in attention.
For fucks sake, your dick up close is so big he can't help but whine with desire.
The fire ignites once again when you wrap your fingers around your cock and begin moving it in languid motions. Your eyes are scorching, burning him with want and desire swimming in those orbs of yours, and observing every change in expression.
To your delight, Gekko's face flushes when you lean in. You hold your weight with one arm against the headboard while the other is still occupied jerking you off and guiding it to his mouth. His breath gets caught in his throat because the tip of your cock brushes against his lips, painting them with your slick and making a mess out of it.
“Open your mouth wide, baby boy.” You demand sweetly. And who is he to deny such a sweet request.
Gekko parts his lips gently, opening them for you to start bullying your way into his wet cave and testing the waters to see how rough you could get with him.
The hand that was holding your dick travels to his chin, helping him open wider his mouth until you could no longer push in. He gags when the tip hits the back of his throat, surprised to see that he's only halfway and a little bit more through your cock.
Looking up, Gekko groans, the vibrations sending you reeling with pleasure and gasping for air when his tongue toys with your veiny shaft.
You start moving your hips slowly, letting him get used to the size and width before accelerating the pace. Gekko's hands desperately grab at your backside, playing with your ass and the muscle of your thighs, encouraging you to move faster and deeper inside his mouth.
Despite the tingling sensation at the back of his throat and how hard it gets to breathe, Gekko is loving every second. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d be living his most wanted desire of sucking you off or be able to have a taste of you. It’s musky and a little bit salty, addictive to his paladar he fears he will be begging to suck your cock more often with how this is playing out in his favor.
“That's good, Mateo.” Your praise goes straight to his hardened dick. “Suck me harder, baby, milk me dry.”
Holy shit.
Gekko hollows his cheeks around your dick in earnest, eyes wide and pleading while looking at you with adoration and lust swimming on his hazel eyes. There is spit and precum rolling down his chin the hardest he tries to deep throat you, trying to pleasure you as good as you did him. Gekko wants nothing more than for you to remember him every time you jerk off, because he knows for sure you will be on his mind every time he touches himself.
He moans, vibrations traveling to your engorged member, and nails digging into the muscle of your thigh as he bucks his hips wildly.
You don't have to look back to know he has just come again, feeling the spurts of his semen hit your backside and feeling him squirming to desperately feel you closer.
“Good boy, Teo.” You mutter, making some distance to hold your cock in hand and chase after your own release with quick flicks of your wrist, “You've done good.”
His fucked out face should have told you enough that the boy was pleased, but you haven't finished yet. A hand holds under his chin and the other starts furiously jerking you off, aiming at his face the moment the tight knot breaks inside you and spurts of white cum paint his features. The pleasure is immeasurable, trembling above him as you see Gekko open his mouth while globules of sperm land on his eager tongue and gulps it down with a dizzy and flustered smile on his face.
There is a comfortable silence that envelops you both after you ride your high, catching your breath in big gulps of air as a grin stretches your lips.
Standing up, you walk towards the only window in the room and open it gently, letting the fresh breeze of the night wash over you with the light of the moonlight outlining your form. Gekko swallows a tight lump on his throat, feeling his mouth dry when you turn to him and give him a disarming smile.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly. Laying down next to him, you brush a hand through his short hair in soothing motions, scratching the scalp tenderly he nuzzles into the touch. There is a towel in your other hand, and he doesn’t know when you retrieve it. “I'm going to clean you up, okay?”
Nodding, he lets himself be handled by your attentive care. Cleaning his face, down his chest and taking away the dry cum by his stomach and thigh, he sighs blissfully, closing his eyes. Your touch is no longer scorching nor heated, but full of cautiousness and delicateness.
With a loving touch, you clean him up.
Gekko wonders if there is a deep meaning behind this act or was this just a spur of the moment thing. Did it mean anything to you at all? Because to Gekko, this was a lot to process and it meant the world, but the fear of being rejected or treating this experience as a one time thing now that his feelings might be jeopardized scares him to death.
Your hands glide across his skin so lovingly it makes him weak in the knees and for his heart to skip a beat. It’s not until you deem him clean that you throw the dirty towel in one of the corners of the room before laying down next to him, hand barely touching him when you look up to the ceiling. Your pinky does the first step though, intertwining your fingers together in a weak grip that makes his heart jump inside his ribcage.
“Are you sleeping?” The question is meant to be answered, but Gekko cannot find his voice to reply.
When he feels you pulling away, as if resigned, he grabs your hand immediately and clasps your hands together in a tight hold. Gulping, he dares to look at you, finding you doing the same thing and holding his gaze through the darkness.
“Stop me if you want.” You say breathlessly, closing the distance between your faces, “Say the word, and I'll leave you alone.”
Gekko doesn't say anything, anticipating your actions and leaning in to lock your mouths in a sweet kiss.
You gasp, surprised at his boldness, but don't back away. Your lips move gently at first, a firm pressure that has your brain reeling, and Gekko takes the chance to deepen it, thrusting his tongue inside your parted lips, and licking, tasting each crevice of your mouth. His kiss turns hungry, possessive even, as tongues meet in the middle and fight for dominance. It gets wilder, heated, kiss after kiss between gasps and soft moans that neither tries to suppress anymore.
Gekko squeezes your hand, sighing in pleasure when you reciprocate his frantic kisses with the same fervor and desire. You move closer, your free hand finding purchase on his hips to pull him flush against your body and pelvis sliding gently.
“I love you.” He confesses, gasping your name when your mouth travels to his cheek and down his neck with a new found ignited passion. “I love you so much.”
You nibble on his neck, kiss his chin, his cheek, you kiss every inch available to you until your mouths melt together once again, breaths mingling hotly, and drinking in his whines and soft moans.
“I love you too, Mateo.”
Looking deeply into his eyes, you wonder if this is how you imagined things to develop and if it were any different, would you have minded?
If any other actions would have guided you to him, you don't think you would mind.
Kissing his lips softly, you whisper his name with love, pawing his body with addictiveness and desperate to know what other sounds he can make. Gekko whimpers when your hand goes straight to his ass, fingers prodding his entrance in circular motions and teasingly making pressure.
“Ah—! Ngh, you're mean,” he accuses with a flush. Smirking, you kiss his pout away, nuzzling his cheek with affection.
“I'm not mean, baby,” you say cheekily, “I'm just teasing you.”
Huffing, Gekko kisses your cheek, parting his legs to give you room to do whatever you want with him.
“Be gentle, please ”
An open invitation, the free pass to take his body as however you want, you dive in and drown in his lips with wet and heated kisses, gasps and groans of pleasure escaping both of your mouths as you grind against each other.
The moonlight is the only witness of the throes of passion unfolding on the sheets as you climb on top of Gekko and sink your cock in the tight heat of his asshole.
In that tiny room of yours, you make love to Mateo.
Falling in love [VALO Men]
Summary: How do they show their love? [Is it the epitome of extreme, or are you just too dumb to care?]
Pairings: Yoru/F!Reader, Omen/F!Reader, Gekko/F!Reader, Cypher/F!Reader, Miks/F!Reader.
Warnings: All male characters are Yandere, blood, violence, smut, nsfw mentions, obssesion, side characters deaths.
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Yoru: Words. [Coffee shop]
For him, words mean nothing if the actions don't back them up immediately; whether be in friendships or his intimate life—to which he shouldn't worry at all since he has none—, he won't heed to promises nor apologies if those are not fulfilled accordingly.
This fact never changed, strengthening with time and polishing it through everything surrounding him despite clashing wildly with the rest. Deaf to complaints and blind to dirty stares, he continues to strive forward in life ignoring them; because if not even the first light made him change his mind, neither will the people who came after the disaster.
Even when he found himself falling in love, Ryo’s morals and beliefs never warped nor misguided.
Odd, in everyone's eyes. Reasonable, in his.
The loner wolf got someone to like him and tame his wild heart by simple actions, little by little, until Yoru stopped being the radiant with powerful abilities, to introduce himself to you as Ryo; a normal japanese man who enjoys the smell of coffee and reminisce the old times with a heavy heart.
You were completely fooled by his web of lies to keep you away from the mess his life is, to keep you on your toes whenever he desired to share bits of his past and made you feel like the only person special in his world; which is true, despite the many wrongs he's done, you are truly what he could consider his special someone and his treasure.
You managed to have him wrapped around your finger in less than a month with sweet words and caring nature. Stubborn but mindful, hot-headed but grounded—you were the perfect mix complimenting him.
Yoru didn't even know he was capable of trusting something as important as his heart to a stranger of sorts, blindly following what his emotions dictate and what your sweet words enchant him to do.
He was in love, completely and utterly head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous.
Eating every word you’d have to say as if it were the law, watching your hands work around your station and do their magic while making his favorite beverage for the day, stealing glances his way every now and then—it was embarrassing how pliant you made him by just being there.
There were days he would stay longer. When work was not important and you seemed thrilled to have him around, he’d lounge in the coffee shop and watch you work with a smile gracing your features.
And when the night falls, and you are tucked away in the privacy of your room, he would kiss every inch of your body that you allow him to touch and worship you as if you were a god, his god; preaching, marking and claiming you as his.
Every touch, every bite mark, every time you gasp for air when he drowns himself between your thighs, taking and taking in tandem what you offer in a silver plate; he cannot get enough, going for your sensitive spots one at a time until he has you shattering with pleasure and he chases after you to join. But no matter what, always prioritizing you.
That’s how ridiculous this whole thing is.
Phoenix and Jett are the few who are witness to his affections and love towards another human being— and made it out alive after being found out spying on the Japanese man.
To say you saved them from the wrath of Yoru's anger despite having all the reasons to smite them would be an understatement. They are more than thankful, if not curious about your history with the riftwalker and what it meant to have a partner outside the realm of normalcy.
It was dangerous, in truth, to have his personal life disclosed this easily to everyone who was his comrade in battle. Nothing good would come out of it and his lies would be found out if you were to interact further with them.
But at the end, he realized it could favor him immensely if the others knew, except for you.
Yoru is not someone who can trust others easily, as previously stated. Quite the opposite.
Through his tough persona, he evades people all the time to avoid being seen or cornered to socialize; insulting and pushing away whoever wants to approach him even from a friendly stance.
When you entered his life he understood he wouldn't be able to protect you alone. Hence the lies, to keep you at arms lengths. But now that you were too involved in his world, the best course of action that he finds reasonable is to rope a few other agents to ensure your safety, as dangerous as it might sound.
Cypher would make sure to erase every trace of interactions with the riftwalker after every meeting; all at the high price he won't disclose by contract with the Moroccan man. He is not proud of what he owes him now, but to know you're well secured and protected, he would do it again and again.
He contacted Killjoy to hack into the system to find any correlation of your social circle to whoever worked or is currently working for Kingdom. Once the list was delivered to his hands, Yoru would make sure everyone on the list would be erased from existence; not a single soul would be able to escape him.
By what methods? That's for him to take to the grave, with no witnesses.
You are his world, you are his everything, and he will make sure you are safe and sound or else hell will rise.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Omen: Words. [Knitting shop]
The concentration poured into keeping himself together could be arguably the best quality he could offer.
Not everyone can pride themselves about the determination of keeping oneself alive for longer than nature intended; since his due time was past the date and he’s now breaking every little law of the universe, he wonders if this was some sort of punishment for going against it.
He’s never asked to be revived into…a monster, despite having many people arguing that whatever he is now, is better than being dead.
A foolish thought.
Omen can definitely be naming the many reasons as to why it is not a miracle, but a penitence for his past mistakes when he was alive. Atoning for his sins in the form of smokes and dirty armor, from broken flesh and ignited bones, it pains him deeply being alive and despises whoever treats his hurt as if it were nothing.
Being reborn as a new being shifts something on his brain, unintentionally, and he begins treating himself as an inhuman. Therefore, anyone who looks his way treats him the same way: like a monster.
Is inevitable, really, a course of action not even he has the power to stop nor change. He goes along with whatever happens in his surroundings now, accustomed to his comrades' attitudes.
He’s more than aware of their dirty looks and general avoidance whenever he is in the vicinity, oblivious of his capability of sensing emotions through wavelengths or the fact that he’s witness to their change in demeanour— they know how to keep it professional enough so disturbances don't take place.
That is how his days go by, used to it, used to being an unsightly view and detriment to the morale of his comrades with his unsettling voice and mannerism. His turmoil means nothing if the rest is content with not having him around; so he absconds, hides himself most of the time and pretends he isn't alive for their sake.
There is nothing new in his everyday life.
Or so he thinks, before his curse tides the wave in his favor.
Imagine his surprise the first time someone didn't react negatively with his presence.
It threw him off, confusion overtaking him and assuming he just read the cues wrong. It surprises him more when you don’t react at all until he speaks out loud, scaring the living shit out of you.
When you look at him, or more specifically, where you thought he was, Omen supposed this would go different.
Not being a sociable person, Omen finds it odd to have been convinced to come to Harajuku for materials he needed. Some of his knitting kits have gone missing, and trying not to bother his comrades, he never spoke about the issue.
Yoru made some reassurance, in his own way, that no one would mind the way he looks since everyone there was already a freak. Omen didn't refute his saying, since his words had truth in there, despite feeling offended.
“They won't even notice you at night,” he commented.
No fear, no screams, not even a glance nor terrified expression painting your features besides being startled; that's how your first meeting went: only a smile and the pleasure to assist him.
Kind and lovely, adjectives Omen would never think of being used in his vocabulary, but for this occasion, it was necessary, a must to describe you. Amusing, too, whenever he would ask you questions about certain things, voice deep and reverberating it sent shivers down your spine; he made you nervous.
One more worker, just like him, but missing a certain ability most had.
You were blind.
For better or worse, it doesn't change your way of treating him like a human being; despite him losing his humanity over and over again on the battlefield, taking life after another, you treat him with a kindness and warmness that he has forgotten long ago.
You are quick to erase the awful thoughts running through his brain with little chats and adorable clumsiness, chasing after him at the shop to keep talking. It was flattering that someone was taking an interest in him this deeply, and inevitably, he finds himself chasing after you too.
Omen believes this is how liking someone feels, contrary to his initial thoughts on socializing, he finds it fulfilling and easy to navigate with you with this newfound feeling.
His one time visit becomes a recurrent, always looking for you and ignoring everyone else in your surroundings to bask in your full attention and pretty smiles. Even when people visit the shop, even when people comment on his overall look with disgusted faces, one word from you eases his tension and doubts.
You are a sweetheart to a fault, letting everyone walk on you because of your calm demeanor and shy complex under stressful situations. He would watch people talk behind your back within your presence, ignoring completely the crestfallen expression on your face or the gathering tears in your eyes when you think he’s not there or no one notices.
They belittle you, doubt your work and decision making because of your lack of vision.
They doubt him too, for his appearance perhaps, he doesn’t know for sure. But their words begin to target him as well, stronger than before, with the full intention of seeing him fall and break under the pressure of the masses and therefore, you would fall too.
Omen decides he wants them gone.
Aim is another quality of his, you know?
A little secret whispered in your ear one night. With a promise to return and barrel of the gun cold, he goes off into the dark and blends in within the shadows surrounding the city to fulfill his wishes.
Whatever he does outside the sliding doors of the little shop should be none of your concern, but his alone. If you hear crying, muffled sounds at the end of the street, or just the minimum rustle at the entrance, he’s warned you to not chase after it.
Being covered in dry blood is not a pretty sight, and he wonders then, watching the life fading from another monster who dared disrespect you, if you would accept him for who he really is.
So when he reaches the threshold in the shop, startling you and freezing on the spot, he asks you if you would ever consider loving someone who doesn't belong in this world anymore.
When you kiss for the first time, Omen doesn't think, he can't, too overwhelmed to process what's going on.
It’s odd, but somehow, warming. Your face is warm with how embarrassed and nervous you feel, lips reaching into thin air, but at the same time, colliding against a surface you believe could be his mouth.
Your hands hold his head in place through the fabric of his hood, and he can feel your thumbs rubbing softly against what could be considered his cheeks in a soothing motion when you press further and then back away, smiling softly at him.
There are no words to say, it's unnecessary at this moment when the question has been answered.
Omen caresses your face with his claws, and he feels you shiver and sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.
Leaning in, he decides to take what he wants from you, and you gladly let him have his way with you, whispering his name the moment his hands disappear under your clothes and smoke embraces your whole body.
Inside the closed shop, no one is witness of the way Omen loves you that night, with his whole being and emotions only he dreamed of being real and is now a reality.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Gekko: Freedom. [An acquaintance]
Throughout his life, Mateo has always been considered a friendly person.
Conversations here and there, making friends down the street, enamouring the grandladies next door who always gush over his cuteness and kindness as a little kid.
He's always been popular amongst the people surrounding him; a star shining brightly amongst others, a leader, a role model. Mateo is everything and all mothers wish for their kids to be when they grow up, for people to have as a friend, and for girls to want in their boyfriends.
But for him, none of it is of importance. It’s irrelevant and pointless to praise him non-stop when he believes nothing of what they say.
Mateo only wishes he could be freed from all of this pressure and simply live his life as a normal teenage boy.
Having been born and raised by a single mother has been tough, with the many expectations put onto his shoulders and many accomplishments he felt the need to fulfill, Mateo never had the time to discover himself in this world but to wear the shoes of someone who is predetermined to succeed.
They expected him to be smart; so he would study non-stop, missing hours of sleep and time to be playing outside just to focus on his grades and reach the top results. They expected him to be kinder; to always share his things, to share his food, to share his money until he was broke just to please the rest of the world.
They expected many things he despised, but Mateo never said no.
It was like a curse he self-inflicted and didn’t know how to get rid of, and as much as he tries to lash out or simply think to rebel and live like he wants, the nagging feeling of guilt eats him alive before he acts.
Giving up and accepting the façade he's created is the easiest path. He will stop struggling, he will come to terms with what he's chosen and just bear with it.
Mateo will have to live chained to this fate.
But then, he met his little crew.
The one time he decides to do something for himself, he gets wrapped into the biggest catastrophe that has ever been; affecting everything and everyone in the world until there is nothing but himself and his new friends.
The shift they cause is what makes him decide to start being selfish.
They say when you meet death face-on you can never become the person you used to be. In his case, it meant leaving behind the cocoon of someone who pleased everyone in his surroundings and was finally feeling the metaphorical chains break him free.
Mateo breathes deeply when he comes to that realization, and it almost feels like the first time doing it.
And it gets better.
Because through Reyna is how he meets you.
You are stunning, amazing, funny, gorgeous—he’s running out of words to describe you!
Shaking his hand for the first time, he knows it has to be you. The one to complete his puzzle, the one to fill that empty space of his new life.
Mateo falls in love with you right there and then.
He never believed to have strong feelings for anything in life nor desires that he deeply wanted for himself except freedom— but you made him change his perspective as soon as you came into his life.
It was as if a door had been unlocked and all the suppressed emotions bursted without control, clouding his mind and getting overwhelmed with what he was feeling until there were no other thoughts but you.
You were the contender of his affections and desires now, and Mateo, in his sick twisted way of thinking, thought that you will have to belong to him as well.
Just like he claimed his crew to be his, despite them being sentient, just like he claimed back his life, and just like he got the courage to toss away everyone who crossed his path and denied him the opportunity to evolve into someone better—he is now going to claim you as his.
Nevermind that you had a partner already, nevermind Reyna eyeing him carefully after the exchange of pleasantries, dubious and concerned because of his unstable emotions; his focus was you, and you alone.
Blame it on the world, blame it on Kingdom, fuck, blame it on him for going to this lengths to make sure he had a chance.
Mateo has killed people before.
The Valorant protocol trains them to have impeccable aim and be smart about their actions, so it is no wonder he could kill your partner in one clean shot the next day and hide the body for no one to find.
Many secrets bloom from his action, but no regrets were found in his eerie smile nor empty hazel eyes when Reyna confronted him about it. Mateo had the upper hand, because he knew she wouldn't say a word—because despite being a cold-hearted person and having her judgment intact, she has a soft spot for him, and Mateo plans to abuse that for his goal.
It comes in handy with everything he taught himself when you look for someone to hold onto, crying and sobbing when your partner goes missing.
Mateo acts empathetic, soothing your cries and assuring you he would never leave your side until your partner is found. He promises to do everything to help, and to keep you company as you try to heal from the sudden disappearance.
And it takes you a long time to move on. Deciding whether your partner abandoned you or simply decided to be gone from the world, Mateo's words bring a smile to your face every time he tries to cheer you up.
Flirting, teasing, and keeping you on the edge of your seat with his actions is his way to test the waters.
Mateo is eloquent when it comes to words and his ways of gaslighting. To make you trust him slowly and not only by baseless talking—is a long process, a tedious one where he needs to make sure everything is going according to what he needs and not be rash on his decisions.
He compliments everything you do, from what you wear to what you do. He’s always there whenever you need company or someone to talk to.
Mateo brings years of experience in entertaining and being the good guy to make you like him; it’s genius how polished he has that persona that it looks natural.
Sometimes, when he feels the need to know the progress in the relationship he’s trying to build, he becomes bolder and breaches the friendly distance in which you keep him at.
Mateo corners you in the hallway once, hovering over your mouth with inches apart, breaths intermingling and lips barely touching until he suddenly pulls away. He acts flustered and nervous, apologizing and making excuses as he escapes from the situation. But then he sees you from a distance, tip of your fingers touching your lips as he sees you shaking on the spot, too shy to move away or say something.
It’s like he’s toying with you on purpose, you think nervously. Face warm and a hammering heart threatening to burst through your chest. Mateo loves teasing you, but this has gotten to a point where he’s starting to slip and become desperate.
Because there is so much a man like him can tolerate. And the tension between you two, sexual tension that has him trembling and absconding in his quarters to find some relief in the pleasure you provoke him by just being there, is starting to make him lose his mind.
When you breach the barrier by throwing yourself at him one day, having enough of his constant teasing, and you fall onto your bed, climbing on top of him and kissing him with fervor and heated passion, he knows he’s won.
Mateo reciprocates with the same sentiment, drowning in your lips and taste, with his heart full and desires fulfilled. He holds you tightly and without restrain, hands roaming your body and touching and taking.
As clothes fall to the floor and your warm and naked bodies intermingle in a dance of passion, you confess your love to him between moans and gasps.
Only when Mateo releases inside you, feeling the pulse of your walls fluttering around his cock as you reach your orgasm, does he allow himself to cry and kiss you all over as he confesses his love for you too.
This is what it means to have freedom.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Cypher: Family. [A chess piece]
In his culture, family is the most important aspect in their lives. The ones to trust unconditionally and love infinitely, and those who will reciprocate his feelings throughout their whole lives with no regrets.
To Amir, his grandfather was his world.
An angry old cranky man was he, beating the crap out of intruders who dared disrespect the La Amari family and protecting what little land they still held against Kingdom's agents.
His grandfather had no powers nor weapons for the enemy to fear him—but it was of no need for this battle. La Amari's grandfather was a well-respected person that his own people feared him sometimes; because he gave what no one else could: hope, enough of a little spark to inspire others into being active in the fight against Kingdom and their thirst for power.
That alone was dangerous, and it kept Kingdom's agents on a tight leash to not cause a riot.
“Think about what will make you lose, instead of what will make you win. To know what’s at stake is a better fuel to incentive you to protect it”, is a piece of advice Amir will never forget.
And it was the last thing his grandfather taught him.
It was devastating losing him at such a young age when he had a future to hold onto, people to take and many to guide. But Amir accepted its fate, because no one can defy death and its destiny; continuing living his life by those beliefs and advice and not disregarding everything he’s learnt.
Then he met Nora. He fell deeply in love, and had his first child. Every decision made, every move he took on life was calculated and thought before accomplishing it. Amir believed he had everything solved and paved until his very end, but nothing went according to his plan.
He was never able to figure out the plays of death, always one step ahead of him, and once again taking away everything that was important to him in one swift move.
Death wasn’t the culprit to his many misfortunes, though.
Imagine his surprise when he found out the same people who took Nora’s life were the same gang who murdered his grandfather many years ago. And later on, destroyed the rest of the lineage of La Amari.
The whole crime scene reeked from their trademark, unable to hold back and destroying everything on their way. It was a bloody mess, and the images of his family mangled and dead will remain grafted inside his brain for the rest of his life.
Amir believes that’s the moment where everything changed for him.
La Amari disappeared from the earth, he made sure of that, his family name was dead now and scrubbed from records. The only thing that will carry the memory is him, Cypher, in search of vengeance and answers.
But with time, everything changes its course of action and now Cypher is involved in what could be considered some sort of organization to save the world.
Funny how things evolve.
He meets new people, he learns a few things here and there, he gets fond of some kids, genius fellas they are, a techie and a walking bomb—Cypher takes everything in with open arms, but never without the advice resonating throughout his brain like an echo.
Think about what will make you lose.
Like a chant, he repeats the same sentence when meeting new agents or when deployed to missions. Cypher is the first to come up with solutions, the first to come with counterplans and always a step ahead of the enemy.
And then, like a rock thrown into a well, a disturbance is found.
You are a weird one, he thinks when meeting you for the first time, all smiles and sparky soul.
Jumping and talking non-stop, always a little ray of sunshine to the youngsters but annoying punk for the seniors.
It always seems to go on tangents when speaking with you. Cypher likes things concise and straight to the point, so it's obvious to him that he doesn't find you amusing in the slightless.
Cypher doesn't care for you at first, treating you with less than affection and little patience when dealing with you. You are nothing in his life, just another agent and someone else he needs to keep his eye on.
And then, you matter, in more ways than he anticipated.
Because the moment the anniversary of his wife and kid's death comes around, Cypher spirals into a pit of depression he hasn't felt since the incident, digging himself into his own tomb inch by inch as punishment and blaming himself for everything that hurted his loved ones.
And like a star shining in a dark pit, beckoning him with the warmth and gentle touch, is when everything goes to shit.
Because you, being the smart cookie you are, sympathized with him the moment you saw him break down and closed off to the world in panic.
You are not Nora, you don’t even resemble her in any aspect whatsoever, but his frivolous and conflicted brain twists your actions, your pure intentions, into something that he desperately thinks he needs.
Comfort.
Cypher sees in you an anchor to take advantage of, and you are so unaware of his intentions, so innocent and flustered so easily by his words, that you simply follow whatever he needs you to do.
An obedient little fella, a sweet young adult ready to help whoever needs it without regarding their own self. You follow him like a puppy inside the protocol, you shine brighter when he compliments you, you are so thirsty for his attention he never leaves you hanging with anticipation.
Cypher accepts then that you are what he needs now to fill his own wish and hole in his heart until he takes care of the bigger matters.
But to have you, he needs to think clearly; to own you, he needs to make his moves smartly.
Finding information about your background, your life, the people you mingle with and the man you were obligated into marrying is easy. Is like you're leaving this all for him to find on purpose, is like you know he's doing this to get you, and you're helping him.
And damn him! A surprise is what he finds amongst your files! A family member of the gang who destroyed his life, the gang who were hired by Kingdom to erase La Amari's lineage and conquer the little lands of Morocco. You! You were the key to everything to finally finish what his grandfather started many years ago!
Cypher is joyful, ecstatic, and so eager to take everything from them and, as a prize, keep you to himself.
And when he has everything he needs, he begins his game.
It’s so easy. Breaking down their walls, breaking their security and their lackeys, is like a child's game when he realizes this is not a challenge.
Like chess, his moves are smart and calculated, and everything crumbles in front of their eyes.
Think about what will make you lose.
He makes the first move, killing the white's pawn.
Your friends are the first to fall. One by one, they die by his hands and his own methodological mind games to gain information regarding you and your family.
They plead for forgiveness, they ask him to leave you alone, but Cypher is quick to silence them forever.
Humming to himself, he moves his bishop to kill the white's knight.
That little husband of yours put up a real struggle. It was not an easy task to have them under control, nor make them give you up as he snarls and fights to get free.
Cypher was taken aback by their loyalty, surprised but eager that this might turn bloodier than he anticipated.
It’s funny, too, that despite having someone who loves you this deeply, you always look for Cypher. As if this person isn't enough to satisfy you.
Cornering the white's queen was easy.
Every obstacle was eliminated. Anything and anyone he considered might cross his path or make the situation difficult for his plans to move forward is no longer a threat to him, nor his objective.
Cypher fixes the pieces to their positions once he's finished, and in turn, clicks on a button of his surveillance set-up.
The many screens light up with views from the cameras he has around the base and hidden away by simple eyes.
In one of them, he sees you walking down the hallway with quick steps, hurriedly making your way to Cypher's room.
He sees the determination in your expression, the fast pacing of your steps and in less than a minute you are at his door, huffing to catch your breath and eyes wandering around his room.
Your body language says everything he needs to know—from your shuffle in feet and avoidance to look him into his eyes. You are nervous, if not a little shy to confront him about something.
But he is patient, hands resting on his lap and legs crossed, awaiting for your words with eagerness.
“I like you,” you say, approaching him slowly and nervously rubbing your arms. “I like you a lot, Cypher.”
Unaware of his affairs, you inch closer and kneel in front of him, hands holding onto his and looking into his eerie blue eyes.
“Will you take me?” you ask.
Cypher smiles under his mask, a finger under your chin and gently caressing your lower lips with his thumb.
“But of course, my dear. You are mine now.”
He has won.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Miks (Song). [A rave]
Adrijan believes he has everything figured out by this point.
With the radiant powers he’s been bestowed upon, and the energy of his people that surround him all the time, he knows for sure nothing can go wrong nor amiss with how things play out.
All he has: friends, family, a community; it’s what anyone could ask for and more. They always reassure him and say how blessed they are to have him to rely on. Their pillar, their hero, their most trusted friend—
If only he wasn’t getting fed up with the good guy act, he’d have been more than happy to hear such words. It starts to get tiring when he isn’t able to maintain a grin nor the hype at the raves he hosts; few do notice, he’s come to realize, but never say a thing.
Why would they, when they literally feed off his energy to keep them entertained? Most of that crowd doesn’t look after him nor his own vibes. They all are selfish and intolerable, sometimes he wonders why he still mingles with those people.
It gets to a point where Adrijan starts to detach himself from what’s considered normal behaviour—or normal under the umbrella of social status. Unaware of his own faults and defects, it’s easier to blame others instead of admitting he has a problem too; however, it shows in the way it affects him psychologically.
The shift is not obvious at first. It starts slow, and with little things no one would bat an eye to.
His manner of speech becomes unstable and slightly aggressive, the words he uses are no longer mindful nor thought of before being said; even his actions seem to change when he isn’t careful and becomes, more often than not, violent to things that he has no control over.
The people don’t seem to mind, for they are just like him, if not worse sometimes. If he were to be placed next to that sort of crowd, he would be seen like an angel instead of the amalgamation of personalities he has become.
Ollie and Klara were lucky to have come across him when his emotions were somewhat stable and was acting friendly after his sets were played at a local rave.
With the adrenaline running high, and the good energy pumping through his veins, he lent them an ear after discovering he was a radiant just like a few of their comrades.
Despite the atmosphere not being the most adequate to handle a conversation about an ongoing war, fighting against agents of their mirror selves, and the possibility of their own world collapsing because of the radianate, Miks was more than ready to reject their proposal to help them out.
He was sure he didn’t want to become another pillar for a group of people who meant nothing to him, even when a lot was at stake.
What contradicted his decision was meeting you a second after they begged him to consider it. Their words were lost in the background with the music as his green eyes focused and locked onto your form approaching them.
You were beautiful.
Probably the most beautiful being he has seen in his entire life and has come across his insignificant life.
Singing along to the music blasting through the stereos, arms thrown over Ollie and Klara’s shoulders, you smiled at him, asking for his name, and he was a goner.
The instability of his emotions was kept under control when he finally joined the protocol and was asked to live with them for better management. He found no issue as long as you were there too, and that’s probably why no one suspected him of being…dangerous.
Miks falls in love hard and fast. Like a lighting bolt striking his heart and filling a void he never realized he possessed.
He’s not ashamed to admit it to anyone who asks despite their worrying glances and constant questions. He is proud of the love he holds for you, and wishes you could see it too.
The questions come from a place of constant worry for you, though. They notice. They see it. The obsession he has for you is not healthy.
But every time you were on the team, success was guaranteed. When everything is at high stake, those moments are when his love and emotions are in tune for one goal: to protect you.
Nevermind that Miks sacrifice absolutely everyone if it means you come back alive and well. In the battlefield, no one else matters but his beloved, and everyone has learned that they can’t fully rely on him, except for you, perhaps.
Miks lives by it. Lives by you and your words of encouragement when he does a good job. Lives by your feather touch and stolen glances when you cross paths. He is so enamoured by everything about you and it shows in every single action of his that is almost pathetic. It gets to the point everyone in the protocol knows of his devotion to you, and only you, that he is seen as the loverboy whose darling doesn’t seem to realize he is in love with her.
It hurts, though.
It hurts him deeply that he is such a coward for never saying it outright to your face that you continue with your life as if his love meant nothing. He likes to think you are doing it on purpose to stir the fire consuming him slowly; to keep him on the edge of a seat and simply waiting for him to be unable to take it anymore and explode.
It’s cruel, but it excites him.
But there is so much a man like him can handle as he keeps his true nature bottled up.
The ticking bomb reaches its limit on a rave he hosts.
Sets are ready, the equipment works wonderfully and the crowd chants his name as if he were a god. He is the main show for the night, and makes sure to be as handsome as he can get for you.
Ollie and Klara weren’t able to make it. But it’s not like he cares much, cuz’ as long as you are there, nothing else matters.
Amongst the crowd of people who gathered around his set up, you were dancing and jumping to the beat of the songs he played. You were all smiles and laughter, singing and moving with the rest of the sea of people. Miks winks at you as he maneuvers a vinyl before hooking it up to the recorder. You cover a smile behind your hand and wink at him playfully, his heart soars.
The happiness doesn’t last for long. For a fraction of a second, just a moment where he makes a change of songs and a few of the crew distracts him, he loses sight of you.
The low lights and heated ambient doesn’t help the anxiety skyrocketing when he can’t find you anywhere with his eyes. The show keeps going though. Miks tries to maintain calm and keep the crowd eager and energetic. His eyes flit around the space all the time, minutes pass by, and then, finally, he spots you in the far back.
Making out with a friend of his.
Like a broken record, everything in his brain halts and he freezes upon seeing the betrayal play in front of his very eyes.
And all he sees is red.
There is no one who doubts his intentions when he speaks with the crew to cede his space to the next DJ earlier than intended, and steps down in a hurry to make his way towards you.
His blood rushes to his ears, his hands ball into fists, and his eyes hold a fury and vengeance no one has witnessed in him before as he avoids the bodies of people still dancing, unaware of the hell that has broken loose. If he hasn’t taken his gun out it was only because he is still trying to maintain appearances despite wanting to put a bullet through his head.
The anger grows tenfold when a few of his group of friends try to stop him with barks of laughter, trying to appease him as he snatches his arm from their hold. One of them tells him to let his friend have his fun for a bit longer before they take turns with you. They offer him a spot as well, too blind to realize the anger residing in his chest.
He pushes the guy away and goes to grab his friend by the back of his shirt to peel him away from you. Your body crumbles onto the floor with a loud thud.
Aware is not a word he could use to describe you right now—disoriented and lost is how you look, with the eyes bloodshot and disheveled clothes, looking up at him in confusion as you can’t seem to process what’s going on.
The relief he feels when he realizes you’ve been drugged and weren’t doing this out of your own volition is gratifying. Oh, Miks knew you couldn’t betray him like this! How foolish of him to even have considered it in the first place.
Only when he secures your safety inside his room backstage, he goes back to the group and drags them away from the rave with light conversation and empty friendly smiles, promising them a more exciting adventure.
Miks takes his time with each of them by denying any way of escape or salvation. One bullet per limb, he makes sure everyone has one on at least one leg to ensure they won’t escape before reaching for more bullets and reloading his sheriff mumbling a happy tune.
He only gags them after because their cries have started to annoy him, and ties them up to trees surrounding him in a circle; away from prying eyes but close enough so the music can muffle their pained screams.
“A demonstration, if you may,” he grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
With his sonic vibrations he covers one of the guy's ears and emits a high pitched wavesound that has his victim writhe in pain until the orifices begins bleeding. What follows next are his shoulders, gathering up pressure into his palms and slamming them down hard until the bones crack and pop under his touch with a reverberating bass.
The rest don’t take long to realize Adrijan is going for torture without an once of pity as he cleans his hands on what used to be his friend’s clothes. He goes for every spot that might make them suffer the most, experimenting and toying with them, laughing brightly alongside their cries and screams for mercy.
Each one of them meets the same slow and most painful punishment he can deliver by the end. He hopes anyone misfortuned enough to commit the same crimes knows that Miks will fight and murder for your sake, no matter the consequences.
By the time he is done, what used to be his group of friends are nothing more than a pile of flesh and broken bones, bleeding out slowly and life no longer clinging to any of them.
When he goes back to you, proud of his actions and more than eager to take you away, you welcome him with a sob and pained cries, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you ask him to never leave you alone again.
Miks hugs you tighter, face burying into your hair as he inhales your scent and promises in hushed whispers that he belongs to you, and only you.
When you hold his bloody face with tenderness and lean up to kiss him, soft and gently, Adrijan admits to himself he would do this again if it meant protecting you.
His darling is finally where she belongs. With him.
Okay so I love those stupid fucking textposts and I have nothing better to do (im ignoring that my Final exams are in a few days) so uhhh back to my Valorant roots ig (these are so fucking stupid and out of character lmao)
So uhhh Valorant Agents x Reader (kinda??)
These are all kinda themed around meet ups and stuff - including Miks, Gekko, Clove, Iso, and Sage (give me more characters and Scenarios to make if you think these are fun)
Miks:
☆★~~~★☆
Gekko:
☆★~~~★☆
Clove:
☆★~~~★☆
Iso:
☆★~~~★☆
Sage:
Quietness 2
Gekko x F!Reader
Summary: Entangled in sheets and drowning in pleasure, you take from Gekko as much as he takes from you that night. But a misunderstanding is enough to lead you both cornered and unable to make amends.
The world is in danger right now, this can surely wait, right?
Warnings: NSFW, smut, Submissive Gekko, Dominant Reader, misunderstandings, angst(?), Valorant lore, Cypher being a little shit.
Previous part — Next part
Gekko's bounds tighten around his wrists when a sharp spike of pleasure racks down his spine and straight to his cock, flexing the muscles of his arms and thrusting his hips to chase after the delicious feeling.
Eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his extremities limited to no-movement, Gekko lets himself be drowned in the pleasure overwhelming and consuming him while your wrist flicks on the length of his shaft in a constant rhythm.
Your tongue connects to the head of his cock, slicking it with your spit before sucking him and bobbing your head up and down as your hand grabs him by the base, tongue toying on the underside of his cock and mapping out every vein decorating it. He swallows back a groan when he feels the back of your throat, thrusting his hips to feel it again. When he hears you choking and gagging on his dick, he can’t help his trembling legs closing around your shoulder as he helplessly tugs at the bounds on his wrist.
The first thought running through his mind right now is how good you look between his legs, naked, and burning him from the inside with those heavy red eyes of yours glowing in the dimly lit room while you suck him off.
The second thing is how badly he wants to cum; and if it lands on your face, the better, that's just an extra to make one of his fantasies true.
You've deprived him from his orgasm for far too long; toying with him, edging him with no means of end, he cannot fathom waiting any longer with how fast he feels his climax approaching again.
But the moment you see him about to break, you snatch your hand away, a malicious smile painting your features.
The makeshift gag at his mouth stops any attempt of begging for you to keep going. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes, and Gekko grunts in frustration, squirming under your weight and your burning gaze with no success of mercy.
“Look at you,” you whisper. The tip of your fingers run over the flushed head of his cock, biting your lower lip to stop a giggle when it twitches under your touch and the pre-cum rolls down the slit. “So pretty for me, Gekko, such a good boy.”
His moans are muffled behind the cloth on his mouth, and you cannot help but want to hear what he has to say after torturing him to fulfill your own desires.
Leaning over, you make a show of sliding your body against his as slow as possible, enjoying his full attention and the neediness he obviously has for you. When you take the gag from his mouth, he tries to shove his face to reach for your lips, whining when you dodge and sit on his thigh with your hands caressing his chest and flicking on his nipples to see him squirm.
“Please…” he mutters, breathing heavily. He seems about to cry if you don't touch him anytime soon. “Please let me cum, I want to cum…”
Rolling your hips against his cock, you watch closely his lower lip tremble and his arms fight against the bounds attaching him to your bed frame when he feels his shaft slide in between your lower lips. You repeat the motion, Mateo gasps and thrusts his hips to feel the slickness coming from your pussy.
“Please!” He begs, groaning your name. “Please, I'll do anything! Just, let me—”
Grabbing the base of his cock, you don't let him finish the sentence when you slide him inside your cunt swiftly, cutting him off and making his words slurred to end up on a moan.
You gasp in pleasure feeling him stretch you inch by inch until he is fully sheathed and pulsing against your walls. A whole shiver washes over you when the tip of his dick brushes against your most sensitive spot, squirming on top of him with the need to feel it again.
Gekko's tears roll down his cheeks, panting heavily and flushing with embarrassment when you wink at him and lick your lips in anticipation. The act on itself is so filthy that it does nothing but heighten his want to pleasure you above anything else.
To be reduced to this mess, tied to a bed, gagged and being controlled makes him shy, never believing himself to be into the dominant and submissive roles. But you make it easier on him, enjoyable to the point Gekko would let you do anything to him if you asked.
“You're so warm…” he mutters, eyelids heavy and pointedly observing where you're connected. He thrusts his hips, to test the waters and see if he can rile you up as payback. “So tight, ngh—”
Gekko sees you biting your lip, restraining your sounds and hands holding his hips down to stop him from moving. Your stare hardens when he whines, and a hand flies to his neck, fingers wrapping around his throat to put some pressure and using it as a leverage to lean in, cock sliding out slowly until the head remains inside you.
“This alright, Gekko?” You ask, squeezing his throat softly. He nods, gasping.
“Please, yes.” Grunting, he does his best to stay still and not give in into his wishes to thrust his cock back.
“So polite.” Without further words, you slam your hips back down, hand squeezing his throat softly.
Gekko gasps when you start bouncing on his dick, feeling the tight knot start forming on his lower belly rapidly, and burning him with the desire of release.
The plush of your thighs wraps around his waist to keep you in place when your desperation gets the better of you and begins accelerating the pace, choking him harder and throwing your head to the side while moaning out his name and maintaining eye contact throughout the whole exchange.
Gekko's groans get cut off when the pressure you apply makes the air stop circulating. It turns out he seems to like the rough treatment more than he anticipated, feeling his dick twitch inside your velvety walls when the suffocation gets to his head, heightening the pleasure and any other sensation coursing through his body.
“C'mon, Gekko,” your urge, bouncing eagerly now with the promise of a good show. “Hold on a little more. Be a good boy.”
Those words make him tremble with excitement, bucking his hips alongside yours and struggling against the binds unconsciously.
Gekko was drooling by this point, tongue peeking out and eyes rolled to the back of his head while being constantly stimulated by the suffocation and fucking his brains out.
The slam of your hips is constant and wild, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit and the head of his cock brush against your g-spot everytime he thrust deeply.
The warmness spreading from your lower belly rushes faster than you anticipate, bursting from the overwhelming pleasure of seeing him so vulnerable and his groans echoing within your room that your orgasm washes over you in waves of exhilarating bliss.
“Oh, Gekko!” You moan, hips still bouncing. “So good, baby, ah— so good.”
Gekko preens from your words and the ecstasy shown in your expression. It’s enough for the tight knot to finally burst and be undone under your touch and sounds.
He cums heavily, spurs after spurs of his semen decorating the insides of your walls and hips stuttering while he rides his climax with delight.
Your hands weaken in grip when you cum all over his shaft, freeing his neck and making him able to breathe, whimpering shyly from climaxing on your words alone—he was getting lightheaded, dizzy, but that didn't lessen how much he loved being choked and how much pleasure racks his body with the aftershock of his orgasm.
You're still riding him slowly, overstimulation coursing through your body but unable to stop; addicted to the way Gekko's cock feels inside you.
Once you're full of his cum and Gekko begs you to stop with a quivering voice, too sensitive he might start crying, is when you decide to lean in and unbind the rope that you tied him with, dick slipping out of your pussy with a lewd sound.
When he is finally free, Gekko's arms round your torso and gently turn the tables, laying you down on the mattress while he hovers over you with his face flushed and an enamored expression painting his features.
He seems tired, if not a little exhausted physically and mentally, but he makes sure none of it gets in his way when he leans down and locks your lips in a soft kiss.
The feeling of his sweaty and naked body on top of yours, caging you and hands caressing your sides gently, as if you were the one who needed comfort, makes your heart throb with warmness and aching for his attention.
Gekko deepens the kiss, mouths slothing together and sliding one against the other sensually in a dance of passion. He sticks his tongue on your mouth, toying with yours and mapping out every crevice for him to remember. He cannot help but groan with excitement when your hands hold him around his shoulder and you scratch the back of his hair softly.
When air gets necessary, Gekko reluctantly lets go of your lips. There is adoration swimming in his eyes as he tucks a hair behind your ears.
“Are you okay?” you ask, thumb running on his lower lip.
Gekko nods, “Just tired,” he replies. His voice sounds a little hoarse, “I loved it.”
You smile, Gekko swoons.
“How about you?” he asks, a little nervous. “Did…did you like it?”
Humming, you nod, looking deeply into his eyes. Gekko's breath gets caught on his throat when you lean in and kiss his lips softly.
“It was good,” kissing him again, you sigh into his mouth before laying down onto the mattress. “I enjoyed it.”
Deep into the night, Gekko watches you fall asleep rather quickly.
Despite you taking control over him and the sex, you seeked shelter and comfort in him when it was over; it was rather cute. Your head was snuggled under his chin and right above his heart, sleeping peacefully and clinging to him like a cat—it makes his heart race with excitement.
He was holding onto you quite tightly, one hand soothingly running over your back and the other holding your hand laying on his chest.
There is silence, but he doesn't find it haunting like usual.
No nightmares, no headaches, just blissful peace and a hammering heart inside his ribcage; emotions swelling up and excitement coursing through his veins. The image of your face is enough to keep the thoughts at bay, smitten to the point he doesn't really want to think about anything else but what has transpired this night.
You snuggle up closer, hugging him tightly, and keep on sleeping.
Gekko sighs dreamily, squeezing your hand.
He won't think about tomorrow nor how this will affect the professional aspect of your relationship. He will indulge in this moment for as long as he can, even if it breaks his heart by the end of it all.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
You wake up alone and cold on the bed the next morning.
The covers are hiding your naked body, tucked away gently by your companion, but no signs of him in the near vicinity. When you look around the room, you find there are only your clothes thrown over the floor and your shades safely laying on top of your desk where you left it last night.
“Gekko?” you call out. Sitting on the bed, you try once again, “Are you there?”
No one answers.
There is a beat. Then two. You ignore the sudden ache in your chest and sigh to yourself. You stand from the bed to pick up the mess and, on the way, your sorrow from the outcome of the situation at a leisure pace.
It’s not like it was unexpected—this scenario has played out before, familiar yet this time it carried the faint weight of disappointment. It hurts, you can’t lie to yourself, and wounds your pride after being blinded by Cypher’s words for the apparent interest Gekko had on you and for believing him without questioning the reasoning.
Who would have guessed Gekko was that kind of person?
Perhaps you had some fault here, too. A conversation never took place like you planned beforehand, and since he’s been so adamant in ignoring you until last night, this shouldn’t be so surprising.
‘I should have talked to him.’ is what you think.
No matter, Gekko seems to have made the choice for the two of you.
In less than twenty minutes you shower, trying to scrub away his essence from your body, and dress in the usual gear and fit before a mission. You take your shades from the nightstand, watching your own reflection with a heavy heart before slipping them on. With your luck, you hope this is enough to conceal part of your emotions behind it if anyone were to look too closely.
In good news, your schedule seems to be packed for the next week or so on a long mission to Pearl. And until the spike is safe and secured, you won’t have to cross paths with Gekko again.
Or at least until the disappointment vanishes and is replaced by something else.
There are still a couple of hours to kill before you set off with a team. Since Brimstone hasn’t assembled one for this specific mission, and until you get a notice, you think wasting time seeking the culprit of your demise might be a good idea instead of the few chances of running into Gekko on the base.
Cypher is tinkering with his tech at Killjoy's lab, humming to himself a tune you're familiar with and unaware of the turmoil brewing inside your head. His back is facing you, and you are more than tempted to kick his chair off before he realizes you’re there, but hold the childish impulse at bay.
You nod at Chamber who is sitting at the far back fixing one of his weapons. He gives one of his usuals grins, calling out your name in a weird tone before he goes back to his activity.
“So you've come to me,” he says without looking at you. With a grumble, you kick the chair anyway. “What now, the sex wasn't good?”
“Shut up, Cypher.” You sigh, “I’m not here to talk about that.”
He sighs, leaving his tool at the table and crossing his arms to look at you.
“Yes?” he asks.
“You were wrong.” Sitting across from him, you slump on the table with a frown. You take off your shades to appear more intimidating but Cypher doesn’t react. “He isn’t in love with me.”
Shrugging, he goes back to his work. “If you believe so, then who am I to contradict you?”
“Cy, you encouraged me to confront him about it!” Cypher sees you whine, which he finds funny. “And now I’m feeling devastated for reasons I don’t want to think about.”
“You understand what you're telling me is a conversation you could easily have with him to clear your doubts, am I right?” Cypher finishes with his tripwires and tosses them to a bag. “Why are you upset over this? Weren’t you the one who wasn’t interested in him in the first place? I fear there is something else going on with you, dear.”
“I'm—I don't know?” Cypher cocks his head to the side, you know he is having fun watching you lose your mind over something so mundane. “I was never interested in these…kinds of affairs. God, I never thought I’d be involved with anyone to begin with, let alone have sex and develop an attachment from just one night.”
“Is it really that?” he asks, “Love at first sight is unlikely to be your situation. But love when having sex for the first time? Was his dick really that good? Should I ask for a try myself?”
Scrubbing your face with your hands, you sigh in frustration, “Cypher, don't be a moron now, please.”
He chuckles, raising his arms in surrender, “Listen, before our talk, it would have never crossed your mind to be interested in the kid as much as you do now. What changed? For starters, you don’t love him, do you?”
“I don’t.” is your reply, and you’re certain of it.
“Okay. You're interested in him now, aren’t you?”
You nod, “I find him attractive, he’s sweet, and you should get a piece of that ass for sure.”
“Oh? Charitable now, aren’t we? Maybe I will.”
“Don’t be stupid, I was kidding.”
“Dear, we’re diverting from the main problem here.” Cypher stores his tech onto a box and motions you to follow after him. “Shall we continue somewhere else?”
Standing up, you both follow the path from the lab to his room.
Only the echo of your steps alongside his are enough to fill in the silence, a little uncomfortable of continuing this conversation and to where it might lead. Despite this being your idea to sort out your thoughts more easily and have Cypher as your middle ground, you fear that this…one time thing with Gekko might have messed you up more than you intended to.
Cypher pats your back, “I can see you thinking way too hard, relax.”
“I don’t think I want to know what will happen with Gekko now.” You admit, sighing tiredly. “I’m getting overwhelmed by this situation when there were supposed to be no feelings involved.”
“Was that established before you had sex or after?”
“What do you mean by established?” you feign innocence, avoiding his eyes.
“Did you talk about your non-romantic feelings or what you expected from him before the sex?”
Rolling your eyes, you try to act that you are mulling over the question. Cypher is no idiot, though. He immediately catches on that you did everything but use your brain before you got involved with Gekko. Certain things become clear, and his irritation grows with it.
“Aren't you a grown woman?” Cypher mocks, “You aren't a ten years old with a crush in middle school to be acting so stupidly.”
“I don't have a crush on him.”
“I don't believe you, and I know for a fact you don't believe yourself either.”
“You're always so cryptic with your words. Just tell me what you really think.”
Cypher sighs loudly, watching you from the corner of his eyes and observing your hands fidget while you await. He takes pity, albeit reluctantly. It must be hard to not have control and be stranded on unknown territory when it comes to emotions. But he blames this entirely on you for not acting with your head.
“I believe you've contradicted yourself many times today.” he begins, and you seem ready to argue back but he raises a hand to stop you. “You came to me crying about how I tricked you into thinking Gekko is interested in you, which I stand by is true. And now you are saying feelings weren't supposed to be involved in the first place, but still decided to bed him without thinking where it might lead to.”
The hallways are empty when Cypher stops you.
“What is it, then?” He asks, “Pursue the kid, or simply treat it like a one-night stand. What do you want?”
“I don't know, Cy, I don't know what to do.”
The sentinel sighs. If only you were to see his expression…
“My dear, I’m going to be very harsh with you for a moment, and I hope you forgive me. If I don’t say this, we will be going over and over the same thing.”
Nodding, you cross your arms.
“You only confronted Gekko last night because you had the upper hand,“ he begins. “Gekko likes you, and you know that. If anything were to go wrong in that conversation, you would not be hurt by the end of it because he was unaware of what you felt for him, that's why you had no issues in seeking him out. There were going to be no consequences.”
“That’s not—!”
Cypher shuts you with a raised hand. “And now the roles have been reversed because you agreed to share an intimate moment with him. Your feelings are being jeopardized because you think he is the one who played you and don't know how to feel about someone taking control over this matter.” Huffing in amusement, Cypher nods to himself. “I think I got a pretty good read on you.”
And he does. Despite not giving in and accepting it out loud, you are, to a fault, very controlling when it comes to aspects of your life.
This is why last night's dynamic worked well with Gekko. He let himself be taken by you and followed your orders without hesitation,—and you loved it, enjoyed being with him.
And now that you have your feelings compromised, like Cypher has said, the probability of being weak in front of Gekko does nothing but induce fear in yourself.
“You're overthinking again.”
You give a dry laugh, “Can't help it.”
“Give the kid some credit, dear, talk to him.”
You resume walking, going down the long hallway in silence as Cypher lets you ponder over his words. Only when the common room comes into vision does your steps slow to a halt and Gekko is seen inside talking animatedly with Harbor and Neon.
The thing about that specific room is the clear glasses for windows they've installed, giving you both a full picture of what might be happening inside the room without being too nosy. Anyhow, the sight of Gekko acting so carefree and having fun makes a little bit of anger come forward.
Your confusion shifts to fury instantly, and Cypher notices in the way your hand grabs his arm with a strength that makes him wince. The next second he doesn’t even have the chance to say a word when you jank him forward, using his body as a shield to cover you from their eyes as you escape.
The attempt goes to shit the moment Killjoy’s voice echoes in the hallway. She’s running down towards you with a grin and a binder in hand and completely ruining your cover.
If these were any other circumstances, you would be more than happy to see her. But dread is the only thing consuming you when the noise inside the common room comes to a sudden stop when she reaches you both.
“Brimstone is calling for the meeting.” She announces. “There has been a shutdown of our network so the devices won’t work until I reboot it. For now, I'm just a messenger.”
“Okay.” You nod with a sharp motion. A bead of sweat rolls down your temple in anxiousness.
Killjoy breathes out tiredly, turning to the windows and waving at the people inside. “You too, Gekko! You have ten minutes to arrive!”
You hear a quiet agreement from inside the room. Cypher almost voices his pain when your hold on his arm tightens, listening to someone’s footsteps exiting the common room.
“I have to go and find Viper now. See you there!” With that, Killjoy leaves, jogging away.
Whether it was Gekko or not the one approaching you two, you decide is not of your concern and drag Cypher away with you to the meeting room. The poor man yells in protest now, feeling tingles on the muscles, but you are too stubborn to let him go.
Gekko watches you walk away without any sign of acknowledgment as he stops. A hand hovers in the air where you were previously standing, and he can’t help but feel hurt by your dismissal.
He was under the impression that the breach that separated you two was gone the moment you saved him back at Icebox; sacrificing everything to bring him back home and something so precious as your powers to ensure you got back safely.
When you kissed him, Gekko assured himself this is it. This was the act that settled everything and put his mind at rest, giving you who he is and more. Unveiling a side of him he was too ashamed to admit or rather, didn’t know he had it in him, and trusting you with it.
Perhaps that was his mistake. To assume things would fall into place by themselves and he would be able to express how much he fancies you without hurting himself in the process.
One night stand, he thinks grimly.
Shouldn't have let his hopes up.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Brimstone looks beyond exhausted.
There are bags under his eyes, darkened and turning a sickly purple color, alongside his beard that has not been trimmed to give him the clean face he usually wears. His armor is off and so is his cute little red hat, resting above the table and above scattered papers—it’s a sight to behold to see their leader looking beyond the years he actually is.
For the sake of the meeting, and to not look like a mother hen, you hold back the need to reprimand him for the poor care he has taken of himself lately. Only he and Viper know how much work is going on behind the scenes for him to seem so worn down.
Despite the assigned team arriving on time, Brimstone hasn’t said a thing other than a few words of greeting and a grumble under his breath.
Jett is twirling one of her knives with her fingers, Killjoy is reading one of the last reports from a visit to Lotus, and Omen is waiting in silence for the reunion to start.
Gekko is sitting between them around the round table, and to your misfortune, right in front of you. If it weren’t for Cypher next to you, you fear you might have lost your mind.
“Is a week-long mission,” Brimstone’s voice rumbles within the room. Everyone perks up at that. “Killjoy has detected new waves of radianite from Pearl. It’s getting stronger the longer we talk and from what our satellites have picked up, Omega agents are already on their way.”
“Do we have supplies to survive a week on Pearl?” you ask. Brimstone grimaces at your question.
“Barely, and we will be scraping by.”
Sighing, Brimstone checks a couple of papers and presses a button on the side of the table.
The screen glass lights up with the map of Pearl projected tridimensional. A site and B site light up in red, “There are provisions to feed the team and weapons to defend the sites and yourselves, as well as ammunition. What is playing against us is the rotations the Omega agents might be doing.”
“Rotation to sites?” Omen asks, confused. “It’s not something we aren’t familiar with.”
Brimstone shakes his head, “No, not site rotation. Team rotations.”
Jett cocks her head to the side, “What do you mean by that?”
“Omega agents will be deploying more than a team of five, apparently. But not all of them might be allowed to go in or else we become a beacon for Kingdom to hunt.”
The map rotates, and Brimstone signals the Omega's landing site with his pen. “There is a limit to where radiants can wander together without being detected nor looking suspicious. If Kingdom is able to track us down because of the strong centered vitals of radiants, we are all screwed.”
“And it doesn’t benefit them at all.” Omen finishes. Brimstone nods.
“Why don't we do the same thing?” Jett suggests. “Have our pals waiting on the sidelines if things seem to go grim?”
“We're sending teams to different missions because Pearl is not the only place where radianite has been active and stronger.”
“But you said—”
Brimstone raises a hand, cutting her off. “Your only concern should be Pearl. The other places are for the rest of your teammates to worry about, so focus on what your task is.”
She nods reluctantly, “Of course Brim."
“It’s going to be tiring. We will have to be 24/7 alert and awake to any attempt of attacks and we don’t know what they have planned other than what’s obvious.”
“I need you to clear up something.” You drum your fingers on the table, “We’re being sent to endure seven days of non-stop vigilance to a place where more than five enemy agents are going to be deployed. How are they going to be able to attack different places if they are also limited in agents like we are? It doesn’t make sense.”
Brimstone watches as your question raises awareness throughout the agents in the room. Killjoy looks at him and just shrugs defeated, leaving it up to him to decide whether to disclose more information or not.
He ends up sighing again, hand brushing over his grey hair as he struggles to find a way to explain and answer your question.
“Bind, Fracture, Breeze and Pearl.” The image of Pearl changes, reducing in size to let the mentioned places appear on the projection. “We don’t know which place is the one under attack nor when it will happen. That's why we are sending you to start protecting them from day one and until the radianite lays dormant once again.”
“It’s a gamble.” Omen realizes.
“What if we retrieve the spike from them earlier than intended?” Jett chimes in. “We can come back. Or even go help the rest, right?”
“Don’t treat this mission like the ones we’ve had before.” He warns, “It might not work for them once, twice, even thrice while planting the spike. They won't stop trying until the radianite is taken, so replacements for the spike will be plenty.” Tapping the side of the table again, the imagery turns off, “The radianite will keep increasing in radius power until the week ends. That's why we need to stay longer to ensure it goes inactive."
“Will we be able to rest through the mission?” Gekko inquiries. “We can't defend the sites if we're sleep deprived.”
“You can rest between hours and in turns, but only one person per three hours.”
“Sentinels should be awake throughout the night to cover more space if you will be facing four versus five.” Cypher comments, “They should be the first ones to rest once the first hours of combat are over.”
“That's righ—, Cypher? You are not supposed to be here.” Brimstone takes a double take on his files, and sure enough, he wasn't assigned for Pearl, rather Bind. “We won’t have a meeting until an hour later. I'll have to ask you to leave before then.”
“Oh, Brimstone, how can you ask me to leave my beautiful duo? Separating us is just beyond cruel.” Cypher, in an attempt to piss off Gekko, lays his hand above yours on the table, and squeezes it softly. “Say, I can swap places with Killjoy if she wants. I bet Raze would be more than happy to have her on Bind.”
Gekko does seem a little confused at the actions and, mostly, pissed off. A scowl pulls his lips as he glares at where Cypher is touching you, hands balling into fist from frustration. But of course, you don't see any of this, too irritated by his attitude to truly pay attention to your surroundings.
Brimstone shakes his head, tired and frustrated by his insubordination. Waving his hand away, he dismisses the meeting.
“The jet is ready to go in thirty minutes. The weapons are being loaded in, so don’t worry about that. Do bring clothes and stuff you might need and are only necessary.” Brimstone turns to the wraith, “Omen, please meet up with Sage before you set off with the rest of your team. She needs to talk with you.”
“Understood.” he replies.
“Cypher.”
“Yes?”
“You're still assigned to Bind. I don't need you to start switching places just because you feel like it.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gives a weary sigh, “And stop snooping into the system. I never told you Raze was part of your team.”
“Oh, but I was right, wasn’t I?”
Brimstone looks at you tiredly, asking you silently to take him away. Meanwhile, your friend shrugs, whispering a soft 'I tried.' He is very lucky that stares can't kill, or else he would have been pulverized by now.
The agents leave the meeting room one by one, mulling to themselves whatever they might need and simply too absorbed in their thoughts to notice the bickering between you and the sentinel.
But before you can leave the room, a hand on your wrist stops you dead in your tracks. With a heavy heart and sweaty hands, you turn to see Gekko wearing a nervous expression as he leans in closer.
“Hey.” he says, eyes crinkling when he smiles at you. “Got a minute to talk?”
Words get stuck in your throat, unable to open your mouth and reply like a normal human being. You do try to act as calm as possible and ignore how dreadful this encounter is starting to feel.
But before you can say something, Cypher steps in.
“Sorry, friend, she's mine until you leave.” Cypher grabs your arm and gently tugs you away. Gekko's hand falls to his side clenching on a fist, and an unreadable expression paints his features until you are out of vision. By the time you come into your senses, you are already tucked away in Cypher’s room, safe and sound.
“Dear, look at me.” Cypher takes the time to leave your shades above your head, thumb caressing your chin until you look into his light blue orbs. Despite being masked, you can hear the smile in the tone of his voice. “Are you okay with this?”
“I can’t really say no to Brimstone.” You reply. “Maybe I should forget about last night and pretend nothing happened, for the sake of our team."
“If that's the case, I respect it. But you need to speak to him either way,” Looking at the clock, he sighs. “Don't give him hopes, and don't ruin a working relationship with someone who is going to be stuck with us for the years to come. Is not…convenient.”
“I think it’s already too late for that advice.”
He chuckles, “Better clear things up now than later.”
Rolling your eyes, you nod.
A week to think, despite having him there. A week to figure out if you want to pursue love, even when vulnerable.
A week.
“You have to leave and get ready. Brimstone is already pissed at me, I don't want to give him another reason to smite me.”
Laughing, you bump his shoulders with yours. “He will, anyway.”
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Taking your device might not be necessary for the mission, you think. The network is still being rebooted, and Killjoy hasn’t said a thing about it yet nor when will it start working again. With a dreary sigh, you leave it on your nightstand.
Going over a list in your head, there is nothing outstanding that you believe you have to bring. Your gear is enough, so are your shades. Perhaps a jacket for the cold nights, and a pair of change of clothes. You wish you could bring a bed to sleep on comfortably, but the stretcher on the jet will have to be good for now.
Toiletries, a towel and a few candy bars; yeah, not a whole lotta thing.
With nothing else but a light bag, you exit your room towards the launching site and a slow step. Cypher joins in your walk, toying with a tripwire and accompanying you in silence to your demise.
You raise a brow in questioning, curious about his presence instead of the next reunion with his assigned team. He only shrugs, nonchalant.
“Not really interested.” is what he replies. “I already know what this is about, anyway. Having to listen to the same thing twice? Not thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
Once the jet is visible at the hangar, you have to breathe in slowly to calm down your nerves, and exhale the anxiousness, shaking your arms slightly.
Cypher's presence is comforting, but is not enough to ignore Gekko’s boisterous self. He’s standing next to the weapon storage, cleaning the barrel of his pistol, and speaking eagerly to Jett. Dizzy is dozing off on his shoulder, wrapped around his neck comfortably, and rumbling soothingly like the purr of a cat.
It’s your luck none of them has taken a notice of your presence yet, or else they would have been able to witness the scowl pulling at your lips when Jett leans in to scratch under Dizzy’s head and subsequently, getting closer to Gekko.
Cypher realizes what’s going on with an amused huff, side-eyeing you and watching you struggle to contain the anger at bay. An idea occurs to him then, a little risky but worth the try to stir up some…trouble.
“Your gun is already on the jet.” Cypher comments, catching your attention. “I left a little gift for you, too. Open it when you are alone, yes?”
Cypher doesn't wait for an answer before he closes the distance between you two. He puffs out his chest, appearing taller than he really is, and looks down at you in silence as his hand hovers over your elbow.
“What is it?” You ask, concerned. He looks beyond ridiculous.
“Do you trust me?” he whispers, hand gently caressing down your arm until he holds your hand. His robotic blue eyes look deeply into yours, awaiting an answer.
With a gulp, you nod.
Cypher guides you against his body, one arm circling around your waist, and taking his hat with the other to rest his masked forehead against yours. With a grin, you hold onto his coat, both hands explaying in his chest as you raise a brow in questioning. He doesn’t dignify you with an answer, but simply a chuckle. What a silly man.
He holds you close for a couple of seconds, sighing loudly and feeling the weight of his head knock against your forehead. It’s comfortable, yet the time he is taking worries you slightly.
“Are you oka—”
“Shh.” he hushes in a low whisper. “Give it a moment.”
Scoffing, you roll your eyes, but let him do what he wants.
“Gekko is watching,” he says then. His words are enough to tense your muscles, eyes widening in panic. “Keep up the act for a little more, and then go straight to the jet, alright? Don’t look at him when you leave, just me.”
“Okay.”
“Good girl.”
When you part ways, he makes a motion of kissing your hand through his mask. With a snort, you flick his hat when he wears it again and Cypher chuckles under his breath.
“You dork.”
“Always the gentleman.” he replies. “Be careful.”
“You too, Cy.”
It takes a while to gather your bearings before you finally bid him goodbye and do as he told you. Avoiding Gekko’s pointed stare is easier when your eyes hide behind your shades and the nervousness behind a concealed expression.
Cypher stays in place as he watches you go into the jet, humming to himself as he watches the disbelieving expression on Gekko’s face, staring right at the door where you’ve just entered. It’s not long until Omen shows up, nodding his head in his direction, and going right behind Jett who hollers up when Killjoy rushes them to set off.
Gekko stays behind for a moment, still frozen in place and glaring at Cypher with an unknown emotion swimming in his eyes. When the sentinel nods in his direction, saluting him in what could be considered as mocking, Gekko can't help the sudden anger that flows through his veins and flips him off, turning around and jogging to the jet without looking back.
The doors to the jet close behind him, and the engines don’t take long before they are turned on. Laughing to himself, Cypher takes that as his cue to leave.
His job is done. This is now up to Gekko whether to amend things with you if he's brave enough or else, Cypher will make it his mission to step into their relationship and steal you away when he least expects it.
It was never in his plans to take it this far nor get involved, but now that an opportunity has arisen, he won't hold back if Gekko fucks it up beyond repair.
All’s fair in love and war, after all.