#Deimos x Reader

[headlessjest]

Child!Reader and MAG!Hank vs Sanford and Deimos in a chicken fight. (Where’d the water come from? Who knows.)

I used to love playing chicken fight lol.

[bigboipyromaniac]

HEY!

It's been a while since I've posted, but I'm back!

For now...

ANYWAYS I've cleared my inbox and ask so if you requested something, you can re-ask! I just needed a fresh start.

Now here's some of character I'm willing to write

Postal dude (Postal)

Not Important (Hatred)

Hank (Madness Combat) (I'm not writing his full name)

Sanford (Madness Combat)

Deimos (Madness Combat)

Simon Henriksson (Cry of Fear)

James Sunderland (Silent Hill)

Walter Sullivan (Silent Hill)

Harry Mason (Silent Hill)

Gabriel (Ultrakill)

Kiryu Kazuma (Yakuza)

Goro Majima (Yakuza)

Ichiban Kasuga (Yakuza)

Takayuki Yagami (Lost Judgment)

Alucard (Castlevania)

Solid 'David' Snake (Metal Gear Solid)

Raiden 'Jack' (Metal Gear Solid)

Jetstream Sam (Metal Gear Rising)

Venom Snake (Metal Gear Solid)

Dante Sparda (Devil May Cry)

Sebastian Solace (Pressure)

Kuzan Aokiji (One Piece)

I'll add more when I can :p

Now some things I can do:

Fluff

Smut

Honestly give me anything that's not illegal and I'll do it

Things I won't do:

EXTREAM GORE, like it could be considered a snuff story (I know I have some fucked up characters but plz spare me)

Loli/Shota (ermmm)

Step siblings/ parent

Incest

Anyways I hope I can post more often, and yall enjoy the story

[idyat]

Don't worry, he'll get it eventually.

[author-morgan]

Title: Unwritten Prophecies Pairing: Deimos!Alexios x fem!Reader Rating: M Word Count: ~6.3k Summary: You are meant for the gods, but beneath the wrath of the storm, he asks the one question no oracle is ever granted—what do you want?

...but your sweet sinless sensation is not my style...

THE MASKED CULTISTS trickle from the cave. Eupheme—your sister in training—leaves too and urges you to do the same and be free of the darkness hidden below the sacred Temple of Apollo. But you won’t go. Not yet. All evening, the Pyramid under the great, bronze serpent has called to you, a moth to a flame. You move toward the artifact in a trance, the voices you’ve heard since entering the cave growing louder with every step...until there’s silence. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

You know the rough voice and to whom it belongs. “Deimos,” you breathe, heart racing at the sight of the Cult’s champion as he emerges from the shadows—his golden armor nigh glowing in the dim firelight.

He steps closer, warm-tawny eyes darting from the artifact to you. Most of the cultists are frightened by the power of the Pyramid—a force they cannot truly comprehend or control—and none of the would-be Oracles have ever shown any inclination for being able to harness its potential for prophecy. Deimos looks down at the artifact and can feel its call and energy thrumming in his veins. He has never doubted that he has the blood of gods. But to find another like him? A blessing and a curse.

“Does it speak to you as well?” He asks. The edge in his prior words faded.

“Yes,” you answer. The voices grow more numerous, louder. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on a single thread of the tapestry of history and fate. “Of the past.” There are glimpses of Leonidas at Thermopylae, Themistokles at Salamis, and battles even more ancient for which there are no tales to be told or heroes to be celebrated. “The present.” Perikles gathers with his generals in the shadow of the Parthenon, and Spartans train for the upcoming war. But then the landscape becomes unfamiliar—seven hills—and wood and mud villages spring up on the banks of a mighty river, growing larger, grander, until the city of bricks turns into one of marble. An Eagle rises. “And of events that have not yet come to pass.”

Deimos extends his hand, fingertips barely touching the smooth bronze plates covering the artifact, a gesture for you to do the same—and a test. You know not what you’ll see—the future or the past, but the Cult’s champion hopes it will be the latter. Stepping closer, you reach out to the Pyramid, pressing a hand against one of the sides as Deimos does the same.

The oracle has spoken! To prevent Sparta's fall, the child must fall first. Your breath catches as a woman lunges forward. Her face twisted in anguish. She fights against the hands restraining her but her cries are swallowed by the wind and rain. “Please! You can't! No! No, no.” Lightning streaks across the dark sky. “Nikolaos!” At the cliff’s edge is an ephor of Sparta, holding a swaddled babe aloft in the air, inching closer to the chasm below Taygetos.  

And then the fall. The scream. A sister’s outstretched hand.

The vision twists, shifting like smoke, and you see something else—the boy again, older this time. His body hardened and face set in an expression too cruel for a child. A woman stands before him, cloaked in shadow, her voice smooth, coaxing. "Your family abandoned you,” Chrysis tells Deimos. Lies repeated so often they become the only truth the boy has ever known. “Your mother left you to die.” The priestess steps forward, cradling an object swathed in dark linen. She lays the gift before Deimos and reveals a sword—the Sword of Damokles. “But I will give you new purpose, my child."

You stumble back from the Pyramid and glimpse Deimos, breath coming in sharp, shallow pulls. He stares down at you, his expression a storm of barely contained rage, but there’s a rawness, vulnerability even, that you’ve never seen before in him. "You saw it," he murmurs, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. Not the voice of Deimos—the Cult’s blade—but the voice of a broken man who has spent his life trying to reconcile with the prophecy spoken by Praxithea when he was only a babe. A prophecy that tore his family apart and doomed him to this life of pain and suffering.

You swallow, hard, and nod. "Yes."

Deimos reaches for you—rooted in place beneath the great bronze serpent. You’re unsure what the Cult’s champion will do. You imagine few in Hellas know the full truth of what happened that night on Taygetos and the years following as they molded him into nothing short of a monster. His callous fingertips brush against your cheek, and trail to stop at your neck, his hand hovering there. He leans closer, breath ghosting over your cheek. “If they know you can use the artifact...” Deimos doesn’t have to finish the statement for you to understand—it is a rare show of mercy.

PRAXITHEA TELLS YOU to take leave of the lesson. Between her two students, you have always excelled in learning and perfecting new teachings compared to Eupheme. A clear sign of the gods’ favor. At this point, it seems obvious you will be chosen to wear the title of the Oracle of Delphi—the highest servant of Apollo—after Praxithea.

Returning to the home Elpenor gifted you in Kirrha, you find Deimos sitting on your floor, his back and arm contorted to stitch a wound on his shoulder blade with one hand. You cross your arms, frowning—at both the sight of the Cult’s champion injured and the dark stain on prized Tyrian red and blue fabric. “You’re bleeding on my favorite rug,” you chide, stopping in the doorway with arms crossed.

He looks back and meets your gaze, a flicker of relief brightening his scowl. Sighing, you go to Deimos and kneel, taking the threaded needle from his blood-slick hands before sitting behind him. He doesn’t flinch or tense when the hot point passes through flesh. “Did you foresee this?” He asks. You think there’s a hint of humor in how he says it.

“Your stubbornness leading you to my home instead of Lykaon when you’re hurt?” You query in turn, equally amused. “The gift of foresight would not be needed for that,” you tell him. It’s a terrible habit of his, turning up unannounced and uninvited, more often than not covered in the blood of others and not his own—this time is an oddity, but you’ve found yourself in this moment before, too.

There’s a dry chuckle in Deimos’s throat, though it’s cut short by a sharp pull of the catgut thread through his torn skin. He exhales heavily, tilting his head slightly, but he still does not flinch—of course, he doesn’t. Pain is an old companion. One he has long since ceased to acknowledge. You work in silence, one stitch after another. “You should be more careful,” you murmur. A pointless request, but one you speak often in hopes he will listen one day.

Deimos snorts, shaking his head. “Careful?” He sounds appalled by the thought—being careful hasn’t won him battles or infamy. He is dread incarnate, ruthless, and indomitable. “Is that what you want me to be?”

Your fingers still for half a breath before you resume your work with a sigh. “I would prefer it over reckless,” you tell him. There are times you worry his wounds will be beyond your and Lykaon’s skills to mend. He may have Ares and Athena’s favor in battle, but he is only a man, in the end.

“You wound me,” he deadpans.

“You’re already wounded,” you retort, knotting the stitch and cutting away what’s left of the thread and needle. “But that’s hardly new.” He hums, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, but he does not argue. His hand lifts absently, fingers brushing over the back of yours where they rest against his shoulder. You’re always here for me, Deimos thinks. The voice in his head is quieter than usual. Even when you shouldn’t be.

Dark clouds gather on the horizon as you mix a sweet-smelling poultice to soothe the puckered skin around Deimos’s fresh stitches. And though he should return to Delphi and report on his mission in Achaia, he lingers, sipping watered wine and eating grapes with fresh cheese—content with this fleeting moment to be in your company.

He lingers until the summer storm takes hold of the evening—wind howling, rain lashing, and thunder rolling between flashes of lightning. It does not seem as if Zeus’s wrath will end before the morn breaks. “Stay,” you tell Deimos, seeing he means to leave. The Cult does not like him to roam Phokis at his own bidding—Praxithea will be none too happy to learn of this night either, but consequences be damned. A part of you has grown tired of the sacrifices required to please the gods. “I would not force you out in this storm.” As if commanded by your words, a clap of thunder rattles the small villa. You step closer to Deimos, reaching for his hands. “Stay,” you say again, softer this time. Not a demand. Not a command. A choice.

Deimos stays.

The first kiss is chaste. It’s careful—tentative. Just like the very first. His fingers brush along your jaw, moving back into your hair. Deimos’s breath catches—just barely—but you feel it warm against your lips. His eyes flick to yours, searching for something unspoken. You could pull away. You should pull away. But you don’t.

And the second kiss…the second kiss is not chaste. His hand knots in your hair, pulling you closer as if the gods themselves might rip you from him if he loosens his grip. You melt into him, tasting salt and copper where a fresh split on his lip lingers as he urges you to lay back on the pallet of linen and silks.

“Deimos!” You gasp, pressing against his shoulders, but it’s like trying to move a stone wall. Truthfully, though, you only want to pull him closer—you have since the first time he decided to kiss you by the falls of Lalaia. But the years of training and lessons under Praxithea and the Cult’s desire for you to succeed as the Oracle of Delphi scream at the forefront of your mind. “You know the Pythia must be untouched,” you remind him.

“I know,” he breathes, his voice low and rough. Deimos doesn’t move, still caging you between his musculature and the floor pallet. There’s something different in his eyes as he looks down at you, keeping your gaze —something dangerous. And it’s not just the raw strength and fury he carries into battle or the untamed rage that makes him the Cult’s Champion. It’s something treacherous, something he’s supposed to never feel. Longing.

“You’ll belong to the gods,” he says, the words taste bitter on his tongue. You and he are kindred. You should not belong to the gods; you should be with him. “That’s what they say, isn’t it?” Deimos’s eyes are burning with darkness and madness. He shifts, one hand cradling the back of your head, his thumb running over your jaw. The Pythia must remain pure. Sacred. Untouched by mortal desire and hands. You swallow the growing lump in your throat. “But what do you want?” Deimos asks.

It’s the first time anyone’s asked of your desires since Praxithea took you and Eupheme in. Your fingers tremble where they press against his chest. He is warmth, strength, and everything you have ever been told to resist. You want this. You want him—more than you’ve ever wanted to be the Oracle of Apollo, lying to the masses at the Cult’s bidding when you see truths in the Pyramid. Perhaps, in his own selfish way, this is another show of mercy, to save you from a life that now terrifies you.

Deimos tilts his head, waiting—daring—you to give a truthful answer. His breath is warm against your skin. You can feel the weight of his question pressing against your ribs, stealing the air from your lungs. What do you want? The words coil around your mind and heart like a snake, sinking its fangs into every doubt, every moment you’ve silenced your desires in hopes of appeasing the gods and the Cult. Everything to carry out your duties but still keep Deimos for yourself.

“You already know what I want,” you whisper, fingers curling around the back of his neck, under his matted and adorned locks. He almost smiles as his thumb traces the curve of your cheek, then lower, featherlight against the column of your throat. Possessive. Claiming. And yet, he hesitates. The Cult has stolen much—his childhood, his family, his identity. They have taken from you, too, twisting your visions, binding you to a fate you never chose. But this moment? It will only ever belong to you and him.

So, you do the only thing you’ve never been allowed to do. You pull him down—taking his face in your palms and angle his head in the way that you like best—and kiss him. Deimos groans into your mouth, surprised by your eagerness. Your lips part with his only for breath, and even then, he chases you—mouth brushing yours again in a kiss deeper, slower, more desperate than the first and the second. You’re not sure which of you is trembling more.

His lips leave your mouth, trailing along your jaw until settling just below your ear. “The gods cannot have you,” he breathes. The remnants of whatever resistance in you are lost to the wave of him, and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never felt before. You don’t know what to say, so, in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name. Said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell ever since he first kissed you. Deimos. He inhales sharply, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours.

You press against his uninjured shoulder, not to push him away, but to give yourself room to sit up, to breathe. He sits back on his haunches and sluggishly reaches for the linen ties holding your dress together, and you give him a small nod, encouraging him to unravel you. As he gently tugs upon the tie, the fabric sags upon your shoulders, allowing you to push it aside, and then rise to step out of it altogether. His breath catches at the sight of you standing above him—flesh never touched, never kissed, never marked by a mortal.

Deimos’s jaw tightens, restraining himself from touching you as he pleases. But the longer he sits there staring—gawking like some clueless boy and reverential as a devotee at prayer—the more emboldened you become. You kneel in front of him and reach for the bronze pins at his shoulders, the ones keeping his dark chiton in place, and unfasten them. Deimos shrugs the linen away and lets you guide one of his rough hands to your chest as you lay back again amongst the linen and silks, pulling him with you.

“Touch me,” you whisper, noticing the way his tawny-gold eyes darken when his calloused palm fully embraces one of your breasts. It’s all the urging he needs. He surges forward, mouth moving toward the spot where your jaw and neck meet, the stubble on his cheek scratching ragged against your flesh. He palms your breasts, reveling in your softness against his rough-hewn hands. The backs of his knuckles trail along your ribs, tracing along your hip until he squeezes the meat of your thigh. His mouth. His hands. It’s already almost too much.

And then his fingers find the weeping want between your thighs—all for him—and slide through your folds, gathering the slick there. You gasp, mouth falling open, eyes slipping shut, and legs parting just a fraction more. Deimos watches the rise and fall of your chest quicken, and your fingers twist into one of the blankets beneath you as he draws out the slow torture. But then, just as you want to speak protest, a finger slips into your cunt, curling pleasantly.

Nipping kisses bite and trail down your neck, leaving mark after mark as his finger slips in and out of you before easing in another. Your hips begin to roll of their own accord into the heel of his hand, craving the unfamiliar friction. Deimos feels his cock twitch beneath his loincloth with your little moans, incessantly throbbing and straining against the material, longing to be inside of you—to claim you as his own.

“They would have denied you this,” Deimos breathes at your ear. “You would have never known a man’s touch” —he moves quicker, and your breath hitches when his fingers move a certain way, catching a spot deep within that makes stars explode behind your half-lidded eyes— “never would have known my touch.” Your back arches from the pallet. It’s as if you’d been struck by the lightning and storm raging outside, body bristling with long-repressed pleasure, something only Deimos can cure. You reach for him, fingers twisting into his matted locks, beckoning him to kiss you again, and he does.

Your release is fast approaching, like a tidal wave of heat flooding across your body with its intensity. Deimos’s name emerges from your lips as if it is the only word you know. He takes pride in being the first to see you like this. The first to make you feel like this. The pinnacle of your release makes you feel like you're floating, legs weak in the blissful aftermath. You exhale, chest heaving from exertion as you loosen your hold upon his dark hair.

Deimos withdraws his fingers from your warmth—glistening in the low light—and brings them to his mouth. He groans. It's as if he’s sampling the fruit of the gods. You shiver under the heat of his gaze, but then, he’s kissing you again. Open-mouthed, desperate, and rough. You cling to him, hands running over his chest, finding the scars on his arms and back.

He feels your fingers move towards the ties of his perizoma, and he doesn’t stop you, observing you in rapturous hunger instead. His breath hitches, mouth moving inward to press a string of hot kisses against the column of your throat. Freeing his cock from its confines, you move yourself up upon your knees, aided by his strong, firm hands, coming to rest just below your bottom. The flushed tip of his length nudges against your cunt, prompting you to sigh. “Please.”

In a sluggish descent, he lowers you onto his cock—gently as he can manage—the both of you shivering in tandem. The low, throaty groan that escapes him makes your stomach churn with molten heat, letting you find your own pace. He’s big, but he fills you perfectly. Mouths dance together and then clash again, kiss after kiss of pure ardor, and you brazenly give his lower lip a tug with your teeth. It’s messy and hot, feverishly so, bringing both of you to heel as you happily drown in desire and pleasure withheld for so long.

Your cunt is tight around him, slick with arousal as you continue to lower yourself, inch by blissful inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Deimos’s heavy pants flutter across your throat, mouth pressing near the curve of your jaw. His hands are resolute in guiding you, rocking you up and down along his cock, chest to chest with you.

Tangled sighs and low, heavy breaths weave together, forming a heated cacophony that fills your chambers. The feeling of his calloused hands sinking into your flesh is mesmerizing, leaving a wave of goosebumps to crawl across your skin. The sensation of his cock filling you completely, nearly kissing your womb, almost makes you sob from delight. The friction of your bodies, with your chest brushing against his, knees squeezing near his waist, hands gripping his shoulders. This must be better than even the Golden Fields of Elysium.  

A burning sting begins to dance along your thighs, the exertion of muscle as you ride him, moving up and down in somewhat rhythmic motions. His cock spearing you over and over again, filling you completely before you nearly draw yourself out and back down again.

“Gods,” You sigh, nails sinking into the muscle of his shoulders, your countenance one of complete and utter pleasure. Leaving behind angry red crescents against his sun-kissed skin, you don’t want the feeling to end. “Deimos, please!” With a simpering moan, your head begins to roll back slightly. Spurred by your softly-spoken praise and breathy sighs, Deimos does not relent, hands sinking into your thighs as he guides you against his cock—the angle causes friction to blossom, chests bumping together, bodies wholly tangled up within one another.

He nips his way along your collarbone, bringing you up enough to trap one of your nipples within his mouth. The head of his cock remains buried within your cunt, the warming of it making you writhe. He holds you steadily, greedily. It’s his turn to take what he desires. One of your hands twists into his matted dark locks, tugging on them as if you were attempting to wrangle him into submission. His mouth peppers warm, needy kisses around the valley between your breasts before he lets you sink yourself back down, cunt clenching around his cock.

Shameless strings of sinful noises leave you in droves, eyes closed in a state of ecstasy. Deimos groans with you, vocalizing his own pleasure as he coaxes you down towards the silk and linen pallet. With a brief bob of the head, you find yourself beneath Deimos, content between your thighs as he hitches one leg around his hips. The calloused plane of his palm slides down to your ankle before coming back up to wrap around your calf—you shiver at his touch, even with the warm, humid air and the building heat between the two of you.

Like this, Deimos can look upon your face and see the way your visage contorts into pure pleasure when he rocks forward, his cock burying itself deep into your cunt. His skin is flushed, and his expression is a mix of reverence and awe, even if you’re too lost to notice.

Your hands move, one finding purchase against his bicep, the other on his shoulder as his pace quickens. It’s a chase, galloping after his release as he bends to kiss you, releasing a grunt into your mouth when you roll your hips into his. You don’t care if he’s a touch rough with you—gods, you needed him, just like this. Just as he is. Rough and brutal. Heat swirls within your stomach, gnawing at your bones and making your toes curl in delight.

“Deimos,” you cry, and that nearly sends him soaring over the edge, cock throbbing inside of you. The friction of your pelvis grinding against him almost makes his resolve shatter into two. He’s lost count of how many times his cock has sank into you—it’s all blurring together. The inevitable rush of euphoria reaches him as his release comes, hot and blistering, making his vision blur. Teeth bared. He groans your name. Your nails dig into his bicep, a gasp torn from your throat when he thrusts into you again before stilling—his weight braced above you on trembling arms.

You coax him down, letting him rest atop you. He pillows his head upon your breast, breathing erratic but calming. You run your fingers through his damp hair, down his back. It’s a moment you’ll savor—a moment you may never have again. Another flash of lightning cuts through the warmth of the firelight, a clap of thunder following, but the silence between is longer. The storm is passing.

After a while, Deimos moves to lie beside you, half-propped on one arm, his tawny-gold eyes fixed on your face—the glow of the sheen of perspiration, the flush of your cheeks, and the soft smile upon your lips. He’ll commit it all to memory, just in case…he shakes away the dark thoughts of what the Cult would do if they knew. His other hand rests on your stomach, fingers spread out almost possessively.

For a long time, neither of you speak. Words feel clumsy, and there’s little to be said when actions speak so much louder. Eventually, you turn on your side and move closer to him, brushing a knuckle along the stubble on his jaw. Deimos. His name lingers in the air between you. He exhales, hearing you breathe his name like that is a balm and a fresh wound all at once. You curl farther into him, and his hand moves up, splaying across your ribs, feeling the rise and fall of your breath. Deimos rolls onto his back, drawing you with him, and you rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “Get some rest, my love,” you tell him. He presses a kiss to your temple—soft, a vow. You are his, and no man—not even the Cult or Praxithea—or god can have you now.

PRAXITHEA IS FURIOUS. Her protégé ruined. Years of meticulous training carelessly thrown away without a second thought—the marks on your neck speak unto themselves, as did your request to a servant for a cup of silphium tea. A moment of weakness, lust, and worldly desires. All things Apollo’s servant must be free of, immune to.

“You have been defiled!” She shouts, pacing before stylobate rostrum. “The Pythia must be chaste.” It was among the first lessons she taught you and Eupheme—to always shun the attention of men and love only Apollo. “A virgin!” Praxithea turns to face you, eyes burning with her fury and grips your face with bony fingers, nails digging into your cheek and jaw. If she cannot have you to do the gods’ bidding, then she must smite the man who had the gall to ruin you. “Who has sullied you?” The old oracle asks, voice like a serpent’s hiss.

You squeeze your eyes shut, flinching away but unable to escape the crone’s grasp. Heavy footfalls echo off the temple floor, and you meet Deimos’s tawny-gold eyes as he walks into the firelight of one of the braziers and smile, slowly, deliberately. There is no shame nor regret in your eyes or expression. Praxithea follows your gaze, and realization dawns upon her. “You.” She spits, turning to see the Cult’s champion—she should have known.

Deimos comes closer, his presence a tempest. His black-and-gold tunic hangs loose around his broad shoulders, and in the dim light, you can still see the faint crescents of your nails raking down his chest. Shadows flicker across his sharp features, his golden eyes gleaming with pride and defiance. You were meant for the gods, but now you are his. 

Praxithea lifts her hand to strike you. Punishing Deimos is beyond her, but you are still her student and ward. “Hurting her would be unwise,” he grits out.

Deimos does not bow before gods or mortals. He does not shrink beneath the weight of an old oracle’s rage. He steps onto the dais as if to defile it further. Praxithea stiffens as he nears both of you. Her grip tightens on your jaw before she wrenches her hand away as though your flesh has burned her. Her fury is still palpable, though—eyes blazing with righteous wrath. “Of course, champion,” she placates.

You step away from Praxithea and to Deimos’s side, your choice made, and path changed. You will not serve as a false oracle. You will not be bound by Apollo and his temple. You are his. And the gods nor Praxithea can have you now…but the Cult, they will still get what they desire, one way or another.

THE ORACLE OF Delphi packs a small bag with shaking hands. She must leave, quickly, before more of the Cult soldiers arrive, or worse, their champion. Because of her, Elpenor is dead. And one of the only people in all of Hellas who has the power to stop the Cult now knows the workings of the shadow organization. You try to calm her when you arrive at the chora, but she is hysterical. “Eupheme, what is it?” You ask, pleading, taking her hands into your own.

“The sister came to me,” Eupheme admits. Kassandra. You have heard the name whispered in the shadows—have seen her in visions and memories not your own. “I must leave Delphi,” she cries. After facing the Monger, she needs to get far away from Phokis before it is too late. She stiffens in your embrace. “Deimos,” she utters, looking over your shoulder, her voice trembling. You step away from Eupheme—still grasping onto her hand—and turn, seeing him stride forth into the villa’s courtyard.

Eupheme’s grip on your hands tightens for a moment before she lets go, stepping back as though distance can protect her. But there is no outrunning Deimos—not here, not now. He tilts his head, seeing the Pythia’s plan clearly laid out—she means to run. You feel Eupheme’s breath hitch beside you—so soft no one else would notice. But you do. “I could take your head,” Deimos says, voice low and dangerous. “Just as Elpenor’s was taken.”

You step into his path when he moves forward, stopping him before he can reach the sitting Oracle with a hand flattened against the center of his golden breastplate. “Deimos, please” —his tawny-gold eyes flit down to you, his lips pressed into a taut line, the harsh lines between his brows lessen, if only a little— “Eupheme had no choice,” you tell him, a convincing lie.

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

You keep your hand against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath the plate. His body is tense, a coiled serpent ready to strike, but he hasn’t pushed past you—and you know he won’t. “I have foreseen this.” Another lie. “The Gods—Khaos and Kosmos—willed this to be.” You stand a far better chance against his wrath than Eupheme ever would, and for that, you will risk the storm to save a friend.

Deimos looks between you and Eupheme, jaw tightening, then he nods in the direction of the door—a noise somewhere between a sigh and grunt leaving his throat. “Go,” he tells the Pythia with reluctant restraint. Eupheme gathers her things and rushes out of the chora, fleeing into the night, and you know you’ll never see her again.

His attention returns to you—there’s a spark of danger in his eyes, burning gold in the firelight. Deimos reaches for you, his hand rising to rest on your cheek, and you close your eyes as his thumb trails across your cheekbone before slipping lower to your neck. “What else have you not spoken of?” He asks, tilting his head as he looks down his nose at you, fingertips pressing into flesh, but not ungently.

“Only that which will forfeit my life,” you tell him. And yours.

“Come with me.” It is not a request this time. You follow him from the villa—a white horse is waiting at the entrance. Deimos places you astride the beast's back, then mounts behind you, spurring the stallion toward the Sanctuary of Delphi high in the mountains. He doesn’t speak—never having been one for needless words—but the look in his eyes when you glimpse him over your shoulder is unfamiliar. Kassandra’s arrival in Phokis has shattered the careful balance of things. The old order crumbles, and in its place, chaos reigns.

The Temple of Apollo looms above. But it is not your destination. He brings you to the Cave of Gaia.

You look around the empty chamber and then down at the Pyramid, pulsating with energy even though the bronze plates are coated with blood and scattered around the floor—a remnant of his rage. “Why are we here, Deimos?” You ask, a whisper swallowed by stone.

"My sister," he starts, face twisting in anger. "She was here among the Cultists. I–" He stops himself, stops pacing too, jaw clenching. His hands curl into fists at his sides. His memory and hers are the same but different. For years, he knew the truth of his past. There was no doubt what happened that night on Taygetos, but now...Deimos shakes his head and looks at you. "I need to know," he tells you.

"Know what?" You challenge.

The truth, but his pride won’t let him say it. He swallows hard, his voice dropping lower than a whisper. "My fate."

You study him—can see his anger give way to something else. It nigh breaks your heart. You know he is not a god, not even a demigod, just a man, but to see him act as such. He’s never looked this vulnerable, broken. "You’ve never believed in fate,” you counter.

He exhales sharply, frustration flickering across his face. "Tell me anyway,” Deimos grits out.

Taking a long breath, you reach out to the Pyramid and let the artifact's power take over. There are flashes of red and blue flames and battles on land and sea, but he stands in gold-and-white, drenched in blood. “You walk the path of fire, but the flames do not consume you. Not yet.” And then there is a flicker of hope shining through the violence and suffering—redemption. Deimos doesn’t move. He barely breathes.

Your voice drops to a hush, yet your words strike him like a blade. "Blood calls to blood, Deimos.” You can see his sister and mother—and him—standing atop Mount Taygetos, an echo of the night when he was only a babe. Both he and Kassandra have their blades drawn, and Myrrine of Sparta weeps for her children, Kassandra and Alexios. “You will have to choose. Between the path of the serpent” —you look up at him— “and the path home.” His face twists, as though he will refute that this is his home, but before he can speak, you continue. “And you already know which will lead to your destruction.”

Sighing, you step around the Pyramid, your hands rising to cradle his face, to force him to focus on you—not the dark thoughts burrowing into his mind or the decades of lies. “Deimos.” The feather-soft whisper of his name brings his gaze to yours. Alexios. Your smile is faint, fleeting. He will not believe what his sister or mother says, but you—he hangs off your every word as though they are a lifeline. “When those who would name you Alexios, speak, you must listen.”

His fingers curl around one of your wrists, keeping your hand against his cheek. Everything will be different now—there will be no return to the old ways. And should the Cult learn of what you’ve told him this night…he dreads to think of what they will do. “You should leave too,” Deimos mutters. “I can no longer promise to keep you safe.”

THE SHIP WHICH will bore you away from Phokis and the Cult of Kosmos is The Nauplios, a merchant vessel bound for Thrace. They are meant to sail with the rising sun, but a full purse of drachma and jewels assures the cover of darkness will be an ally. Kirrha’s harbor is silent in the early morning, save for the wind rustling the rigging and cloth sails of the docked boats and triremes and the breaking of small waves against the pale stones and wooden piles. Deimos has come to watch you leave—his bidding is the only reason for your departure.

The captain nods for you to join them aboard, but you’re not ready. Lowering the hood of your chlamys, you turn to face Deimos—for the last, but not final time—you rise, settling your lips upon his. Deimos doesn’t move at first, but then his hand finds your waist, fingers tightening into linen and wool, pulling you closer. His lips are warm, windburned from the sea, and rough from battle, but they part beneath yours, answering in kind. The wind tugs at your cloak, urging you away, but you linger, pressing yourself into the heat of him as though pleading with him not to send you away. A shout from the ship reminds you that time is slipping through your fingers. The captain waits. The sails are ready.

“Remember,” you breathe against his mouth, fingers curling into the open neck of his black-and-gold chiton. “You are Alexios of Sparta before Deimos.”

His fingers curl around your wrist, holding you back from stepping aboard the ship. He knows he is not supposed to feel like this, but he has—for years. Deimos hesitates, keeping you with him for a moment longer before he finally ousts the reticent question haunting his every waking thought since the path forward became clear. “Do we meet again in this life?” He asks.

Deimos is relieved to see you smile—an answer on its own. Yes. You lift a hand to rest on his scarred cheek, thumb tracing the raised scar before slipping down, combing through the growing stubble on his jaw. “As strangers, my love,” you tell him softly, a glimmer shining in your eyes. “And as old friends.”

[Deimos taglist: @alexandra-alle / @athy-lex / @certifiedlittleshit / @chaotic-spooky / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gallimaufrea / @hereforreadandwrite / @Idkjj04 / @jadynchronicle / @joossieisdabomb / @kitkitvm / @ksziggy / @missmannequin / @morganamayne / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @novastale​ / @qhbr2013 / @rigshak / @stormyblue90 / @thatrandomfeministgamer / @thepreciouspurrsian / @vymyn / @wallsarecrumbling ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Deimos taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

[lilkasr]

Happy Valentine's day

[masked-men-fantasy]

Ask about their manhood size Headcanon (Rainbow Six Siege)

Headcanon for my beloved masked men from Rainbow Six Siege. What have they got for us?

NSFW Content. MDNI.

Tachanka

"You know I always come with my LMG, right? One thing you don't realize is that I do not have just one LMG with me." He said it with a heavy Russian accent.

And by LMG, he really meant it, not just metaphorically.

Probably because of his genetics, Mother Russia does give him a satisfactory size of 8 inches in length with a 5 inch girth. The tips or his cock slightly bloomed, with some pre-cum oozed out.

You know that it is definitely huge when you find him naked, and his shaft does not look small, despite the fact that his body is already crazy muscular.

"What, моя принцесса (my princess)? Like what you see down there?" Although he still wears his balaclava, his eyes do tell that he smirked at you playfully while he said that.

Kapkan

"Hunters never let their prey know any information about them," Kapkan said while his cold eyes met yours. "If you want to know, you must step into the lair first."

By lair, he means his own bedroom.

You know he can be edgy, but you are not ready for such a level. You don't hate that, though. In fact, it is what makes you like him.

He will sit at the edge of the bed, tie both of your hands behind your back, and blindfold you. Then let you do your work while he opens his legs.

His hand grips your head and pushes your face to his crotch. You can feel his hardness on the thin fabric. After you let your lips guide through, Kapkan should have at least 6 inches of length.

Unfortunately, your brain cannot process anything further. The scent of his manhood is so intoxicating. It is not a bad or musky smell, but it is a unique scent that works so well, just like aphrodisiac.

Let curiosity aside for now, and let nature's instincts guide your body to please this hunter in front of you.

Deimos

To be surprised, the old Rainbow protocol required keeping very detailed medical information. This, of course, included Gerald's penis size.

Nothing special—7 inches long with a little curve up.

"Now that you know my secret, you need to die." Deimos just appeared behind your back, whispering with his strong voice. And with that tone, he must really mean it.

You begged for your life and promised that you would destroy the remaining documents for him.

"But you still know about me." He said while stroking his chin and looking at you, "I guess I have to destroy you, too."

Oh

Oh...

Yes, yes, please destroy the hell out of me.

[slimyalienfreak]

Madness combat trio proposal

(Hank J Wimbleton x reader, Sanford x Reader, Deimos x reader) ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: They/Them

Warning: ⚠️Minor swearing⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Hank J Wimbleton + Sanford + Deimos

Proof read: ❌

Credits: Icon by Rawan Rawan on Pinterest + Banner by ??? (Edited by me) on Pinterest

————————————————

Hank J Wimbleton:

- I’m pretty sure Hank would know pretty quick when they are in love not instantly but will catch on quickly

- He would suppress his love for you especially with this current situation with Nevada

- But eventually you notice their weird behaviour and decide to confront them about it

- You managed to convince them to admit their feelings about you and he admitted that he was scared about your reaction but you ensured them that you feel the same to which he was happy for once in his life

- Ever since then you two have been protecting each other’s lives and make sure neither of you two were hurt

- After the whole Nevada thing you and Hank had been more vocal about your love for each other

- For a while Hank had been thinking about proposing to you for while but they just didn’t know how

- Since he didn’t know what to do they decided to ask Deimos for help which was a bad idea since he decided to tease Hank for it

+ “Oh you want love advice from me well then I can definitely help ya buddy”

+ “Deimos please don’t make it worse and just help me”

+ “Alright then what you want to do is take them somewhere nice somewhere romantic and just tell them”

+ “…that’s it?”

+ “I don’t know what else to say”

+ “Well your much help”

+ “No wait don’t ignore what I just said because I don’t know what else to say”

+ “Just i think it be best for you two to be together at a somewhat peaceful place and just say it”

+ “*sighs* guess I’ll try thanks”

+ “K bye good luck buddy”

- Hank just smiled a bit at Deimos and went to visit you

- Hank did what Deimos said surprisingly because they didn’t know what else to do to which they actually had a good time and for once didn’t regret asking Deimos for help well for the most part

- Eventually the time came he needed to tell you but he was absolutely shaking about it they were so nervous he managed to confess to you I’m pretty sure proposing wasn’t that hard

+ “Y/n I need to tell you something”

+ “Huh what is it Hank?”

+ “You know I love you right?”

+ “Yes? I’m I doing something wrong?” You asked nervously

+ “No no your not just let me explain” Hank took a deep breath in

+ “Y/n, my love, your the best person I could of asked for even throughout the whole ordeal a while ago you had stay by my side and for that I have to ask”

- Hank went onto one knee and asked

+ “Y/n will you marry me?”

- You felt tears coming from your eyes Hank was proposing to you

- You nod your head in reply and Hank put the ring on you finger

- They hugged you as soon has the ring was placed on your finger since he was shocked at your reaction

Sanford:

- I feel like Sanford would also be quick to notice his emotions for you but not as quick as Hank

- He definitely appreciate you as a friend don’t get him wrong but he didn’t realise his feelings until Deimos teased him about you two being a couple until it hit him

- Maybe he is in love with you?

- That was when he made it his mission to confess to you and propose to you If you do accept his feelings

- He was going to tell you at some point during the Nevada disaster but he kept getting distracted

- Eventually after the disaster while the two of were accepting he just blurted out his confession

- It shocked you at first but you did accept his confession to which he thanked you and gave you a hug

- Next mission: marrying you

- He be planning proposing as soon as you accept his confession well not straight away of course (at least he’s prepared I guess)

- He managed to find a place for just you and him and to just relax

- Eventually he decided to propose

+ “Y/n can I tell you something?”

+ “Sure go ahead Sanford”

+ “I don’t really know how to do this so I’m just going to be straight with you”

+ “Y/n I love you, you're the best, I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I hadn’t met you and…” then he started to ramble about everything perfect about you

+ “Sorry but can you get to the point”

+ “Oh right sorry” Sanford chuckled realising he was ranting

- He took a deep breath in and went onto one knee and said

+ “Y/n would you marry me?”

- The moment that Sanford said that you felt some sort of happiness come over you and said yes

- Sanford happily put the ring and gave you a kiss and hug

Deimos:

- I’m sorry Deimos Stans (I’m one too so I can say this) but he’s kind of dumb despite him claiming to be a love expert he can not tell for shits that he loves you unless someone points it out

- And those people being either Hank or Sanford (most likely Sanford) it probably go something like this:

+ “Jeez Deimos if you like them so much just marry them already”

- Then he was like “wait fuck” “maybe I should?”

- Now that he final realise his feels his for you he’s been trying to impress you so you can catch on and confess to him but instead you thought that he was just being his normal self since he does this on the daily

- It kind of frustrates him so eventual he just tells you that he likes you and the reason he’s been doing this is so you can confess to him

- In response you just chuckled and said that he could of just told you because you feel the same

- To that he just laughs in embarrassment but thanks you anyways for accepting

- Hope you guys are touch starved or love being close to people because this man is clingy as fuck he will and can hug you 24/7 and compliment you and make sure that you are giving all the love and the attention you deserve

- Anyways on to the proposal

- Deimos isn’t your typical guy remember how i said that he’ll make sure you are giving all the attention and love you deserve

- He will take you to the most romantic ass restaurant and treat you like a god/goddess or whatever terms you prefer

- After all of this he will just tell you straight up

+ “y/n i need to ask you something”

+ “Huh what is it?”

+ “There’s a reason i did this, you know i love you with all my heart and i want to be with you for the rest of my life so i want to ask you”

- You saw deimos go on one knee and say

+ “y/n would you marry me?”

- For once in deimos life he was actually nervous he knows you but still he’s afraid that you’ll reject him

- But he heard you say yes and he immediately looked at you and put the ring on you and gave you the biggest hug and kiss you

- After that he went to hank and sanford and rambled about how you accepted his proposal

————————————————

[vicksalot01]

It's a shame they thought they would get away with doing this, save one's life and in return yours... poor reader, now they're dead :)

[saltymongoose]

ohh my goodness. i've been waiting to send these until requests were open bc i wanted to hear ur thoughts.

might be a little silly, but consider: matching outfits. player gathers clothing materials!! and coordinates outfits one day on missions!!!! even makes props!!! hijinks ensue. idk if this had already been disscussed before, but thank you for your time and consideration, ily. you are so cool <<3333!!!!!!! everything you make is so scrumptious!!!!! <33

Omg, thank you, this is so nice of you!!! :D ❤❤❤❤ I love this art so much, you have no idea - the way you portray the boys here fits so well (as always lol). And the memes too omg!! I can't even put it into words to be honest with you, these are just excellent. I do feel slightly bad for that random grunt though, something tells me they'll be sleeping with one eye open after seeing that lmao.

(Also, thank you so much for the compliments too of course, you're far too kind. (˶⸃ ⴰ⸃˶)♡ I could say the same to you btw; your art is always just *chef's kiss* perfection.)

Anyhow, I've actually thought a bit about this scenario before, but this just inspired me, so I wrote some short hcs for you. Hope you like them! <3:

The Player Matches Outfits with Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned knew that you had been working on a little project - one that you tried to keep as secret as possible. He was curious, but not enough to encroach on whatever boundary you set regarding it. All he knew from your rather lackadaisical explanation was that he'd be very surprised when he saw. And, well, he was.

The first conscious thought in 2BDamned's head is the question of how you've managed to make a mask that looks so similar to his without borrowing the original. It's really spot on; the seams are in the exact same place, and even if yours has to have been configured differently to fit your more human facial features, the silhouette is exactly the same.

(In the end, he concludes that you simply must've studied his appearance for a while to truly replicate his mask, which makes him feel almost giddy in a way he might've deemed embarrassing before meeting you. But now he's just overcome with happiness that you were obviously interested enough in him to do this.)

He openly praises your skill in sewing, knowing that grunt clothing is ordinarily much too large for you. And you'd notice how the fondness he holds for you seeps into the words, his gaze lingering on you in a way that left you feeling warm.

If you could see underneath his own mask, you'd be able to see the smile he was unable to bite back as well, and the flush that he'd try to will away otherwise. And while he is incredibly impressed (and happy) at what you've managed to put together, he will mention that you could also borrow his actual things once in a while, if you feel so inclined. He just happens to think one of his own jackets might suit you too.

(Of course, he doesn't miss the chance to lean real close to adjust your mask as he says this either, just to fluster you even more. You really have no idea how cute you are, especially looking like this.)

- [DEIMOS] -

A full minute of unintelligible sputtering leaves Deimos' lips the moment he sees your new outfit, and you laugh at the way his face goes bright red. When you said you had a surprise, this was one of the last things he expected.

Luckily for him, he's able to quickly gather his composure, and his excited ramblings turn into smooth flirts that'll leave you blushing instead of him. Expect all sorts of comments about how cute you looked dressed up like him, and praises about how you look even better in his fit than he does.

He insists on taking a ton of pictures together, and you can bet he keeps his favorite in his wallet. (It's one of your faces smushed together as you both grin at the camera, making a heart with your hands.)

He considers this a total power-couple thing; matching shirts are so low-effort compared to this, if anything it shows you perfect you are together. Although there is one thing he'd help you change from your original DIY version of his outfit - those sheet-metal dog tags you made can't compare to the real thing in his opinion, so why don't you just use one of his instead?

Also, don't think he won't take advantage of the fact that you both are the only ones with headsets. Even if yours isn't functioning (because let's be honest, finding one in working condition would be difficult), he'll fix it up quickly just so he can talk more directly to you during missions. And whenever else he wants to, to the irritation of the other three.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford would consider his outfit to be fairly standard, but he recognized that you were emulating him the moment you slid the sunglasses on. And he couldn't stop the goofy smile from splitting his face when he realized it either, not even attempting to hide his amusement at what you've done.

(He only gets visibly happier when you 'threateningly' brandish your wire hook in his direction. You really put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?)

While Sanford has the amount of restraint in him to not openly brag about you doing this, he can't deny the rush of satisfaction he gets from seeing you in what is an unmistakable homage to him. If you look closely, you'll see him straighten up in pride whenever you come into view. (It's almost like preening, really. If he weren't so flushed, perhaps you'd think it to be more of an ego thing, but no.)

Although, he does show a little bit more concern about some aspects of your outfit. Like your boots, for example; he can't count the number of times he's gotten blisters while breaking in his own, so you should expect him to ask you if you need any plasters (or help bandaging yourself as well).

(If you decide to accept his offer, you'll find yourself questioning whether he ever officially trained as a medic before. He surely has the gentleness befitting of one, shown in how he carefully cleans your wounds and softly applies the ointment, his calloused fingers gently smoothing over the plasters on your Achilles heels afterward. Although you have the slightest suspicion that this tenderness from him is known only to you.)

Sanford will also make it part of his routine to pluck your glasses from your nose and clean them after he does his own. Afterward, he'll slowly lean in when he places them back on you to make sure he doesn't poke you in the eye. Neither of you mention that you could do it yourself, or that his decision to slide them back onto the bridge of your nose himself was highly unnecessary. Maybe he just does it to get a better look at the way you blink up at him and blush, or perhaps it's for some other reason, who's to say? Either way, you have no complaints.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Your laughs are muffled under Hank's hands as he cups your face, tilting it up to look closely at you. His excitement at your new look is almost palpable; you can easily tell from how he's shaking and hurriedly looking over, his gaze never stopping on one spot for longer than a second. He just wants to take in everything about your new look, is all.

He'll almost insist on doing a mission with you wearing it, not only because the idea sounds fun to him (with his love of carnage and all), but also because it provides an excellent opportunity to rub in everyone else's faces that you chose to copy his outfit. Not theirs.

In a way, he also becomes just a tad more doting than usual. He busies himself with dusting you off, and adjusting your goggles and the lapels of your coat whenever another skirmish is finished. It's his way of checking you over and making sure your hard work wasn't damaged either.

(Plus, he'd hate it if this instance of you copying him was cut short because of some worthless grunts' attempts at harming you.)

You'll catch him sticking closer to you than usual too, and he does so for multiple reasons. First is that he just prefers to be near you whenever he can anyway (the warmth of your presence is one of his favorite things, and it gives ample opportunity to show off around you), but now there's also the fact that your outfit will freak out your enemies. As you can imagine, he enjoys that immensely, and what better way to improve this experience than to have his Player join him?

In a way, Hank also sees this as a sort of 'claim' you've put on yourself too. Wearing your significant other's clothing is kind of a thing with some grunts, and while he knows they aren't really his clothes, there's still some of that same sentiment there that makes him purr just a bit louder whenever he sees you in that new outfit of yours. It tells the world you're his in some way, even if not officially. So why wouldn't he be happy about that?

[itsohh]

Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020 

“All I ask is that you give it a go-” 

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior. 

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you. 

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table. 

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry. 

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you. 

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

-

 England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you. 

Sam Fisher. 

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up. 

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear. 

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food. 

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table. 

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?” 

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face. 

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took. 

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious. 

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless. 

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.” 

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

-

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only. 

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed. 

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top. 

“What's this?” You asked. 

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table. 

“Uniform.” 

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow. 

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar. 

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died. 

“This here is your pager.” 

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.” 

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.” 

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second. 

“Better get moving then.”

-

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.” 

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already. 

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you. 

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.” 

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?” 

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh. 

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.” 

-

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale. 

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room. 

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg. 

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.” 

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked. 

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound. 

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed. 

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.” 

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside. 

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted. 

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice. 

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.” 

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr. 

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again. 

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway. 

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched. 

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off. 

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.” 

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.” 

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door. 

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.” 

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him. 

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit. 

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled. 

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.” 

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room. 

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed. 

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused. 

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair. 

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…” 

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.” 

-

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you. 

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment. 

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.” 

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

-

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake. 

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table. 

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep. 

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on. 

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms. 

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver. 

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall. 

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand. 

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly. 

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr. 

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.” 

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger. 

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground. 

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw. 

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke. 

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.” 

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up. 

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?” 

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips. 

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.” 

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken. 

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier. 

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were. 

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head. 

-

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed? 

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch. 

“It's bruised but you can handle that.” 

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything. 

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.” 

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?” 

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.” 

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed. 

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.” 

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed. 

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed. 

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face. 

“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that. 

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.” 

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.” 

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope. 

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover. 

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused. 

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked. 

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck. 

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name. 

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it. 

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together. 

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you. 

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him. 

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement. 

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.” 

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.” 

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more. 

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance. 

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.” 

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone. 

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape. 

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him. 

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up. 

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you. 

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips. 

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face. 

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch. 

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.” 

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease. 

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in. 

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside. 

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall. 

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest. 

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears. 

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him. 

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

-

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings. 

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table. 

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it. 

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks. 

They weren't. 

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?” 

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form. 

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised. 

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people. 

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.” 

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet. 

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes. 

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back. 

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence. 

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed. 

[jackjawcaptain]

Tori's Masterlist of Works From AO3 (A-Z)

Started 1-29-25

Updated 4-22-25

*All FICS ARE 21+*

Assassin's Creed

Ezio Auditore de Firenze Aged Like Fine Wine (smut, completed)

Jacob Frye Fatal Attraction (ON HOLD, dark fic, older!Jacob Frye, takes place in the Jack The Ripper DLC)

Alexios or Deimos At The Mercy of Fate (completed, dark smut, extreme dubious consent)

Crimson Peak

Alan McMichael

Escape from Crimson Peak (completed, youngest sharp sibling!reader, reader is caught in the middle of the plot between Lucille and Edith, reader and Edith are besties, tragic angst)

Cyberpunk 2077

Johnny Silverhand

Ivory Towers and Guitar Picks (completed, older works, use of Y/N, Reader is an adopted daughter of Saburo Arasaka and then she meets the infamous Johnny Silverhand, tragic romance, contains smut)

Sweet Child of Mine (completed, fluff, happy ending for Johnny, use of Y/N, super self indulgent)

Gotta Teach Em' Young (completed, sort of sequel to Sweet Child of Mine but can be read as stand alone, no use of Y/N, pregnant!reader, soft Johnny)

A Tale of Twins in Night City (completed, super short fix-it fic, reader is V's twin)

Male!V

The Merc, The Princess and The Rocker (in progress, Male!V meets Jackie's sister and instantly falls in love and wants to give her everything in the world. Things go wrong when he wakes up with a terrorist in his head, contains smut, fix-it fic)

Final Fantasy

Noctis Lucis Caelum

Defying the Odds (completed, fix-it fic, contains smut, astral!reader)

Barnabas Tharmr

Always Been Mine (in progress, Rosfield!reader + Leviathan!reader, Barnabas is ordained to be your man and takes you away after Phoenix Gate)

Gladiator II

General Marcus Acacius

Ruined (completed, not movie accurate, princess!reader, arranged marriage, angsty)

inFamous

Delsin Rowe

Smoke and Lightning (completed, Reggie doesn't die, reader is Cole's sister who also has lightning powers)

Interview With The Vampire

Lestat de Lioncourt

His Favorite Human (completed, based off the 1994 movie, haven't seen the show yet, angsty romance, open ending, selfish Lestat)

Legend of Zelda

Link (BOTW/TOTK)

Running Out of Time (completed, princess!reader, follows the time leading up to BOTW, reader is Zelda's older sister, angst over heavy prophecy for duty and country)

Marvel

Benjamin Poindexter

Two North Stars (completed one shot, a brief look into Reader and Dex's life, plus Matt Murdock befriends reader as is there for the birth of Dex's baby while he's in prison)

Sergei Kravinoff/Kraven

My Little Sunshine (completed one shot, pregnant!reader, Sergei being a girl dad, fluff to the max)

My Bloody Valentine (1981 & 2009)

Harry Warden

I'll Take You Away (completed, Harry Warden comes for you during his parade of blood because you kept him sane while he was down in the dark, smut and pregnancy mention, Valentine's Day Special 2024)

Cupcakes and Blood (in progress, your crush on Harry is evident, smut to come, Valentine's Day Special 2025)

Star Wars

Cal Kestis

Where The Moon Blossoms Grow (completed, SMUT, reunited after Order 66, follows the path of Jedi Survivor)

Din Djarin

Arguing in the Rain (very first work to AO3, completed, fluff and angst)

Qimir (The Stranger)

Fill in the Blanks (completed, memory loss then its regained, light smut)

The Outsiders (1983)

Steve Randle

Love Like Sunlight (completed one shot, fluff and angst, reader is a Curtis cousin from Texas, Soc!Reader)

Top Gun

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Half As Long, Twice As Bright (completed, childhood sweethearts, includes Icemav being parents + Ethan Hunt being Pete Mitchell's twin)

Ties That Bind (completed, Halloween special 2024, includes Icemav being protective parents)

Forget About Your Ex (completed, Mitchell!Reader comes back home for springbreak after catching her bf in bed with her roommate, Bradley comforts you, SMUT)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Angel Wings (completed, first fic for the Top Gun fandom, Bradshaw!Reader)

One With The Sea (completed, Mermaid AU, mermaid!reader)

When Shadows Meet Again (IN PROGRESS, prominent Icemav, Regency AU, Jake is Tom's Son)

In A Galaxy Far Far Away (completed, combo of Star Wars + Top Gun, prominent Icemav)

It's You, It's Me, It's Us (IN PROGRESS, latina!coded reader, childhood sweethearts, Mav walked out but comes back)

Twisters

Scott Miller

For The First Time (completed, Harding!Reader, childhood sweethearts, break up but gets back together)

Unknown Roads (completed, Harding!Reader, twister takes you back to 1996, Scott attempts to save his dad)

Tyler Owens

Won't Let You Go (completed, platonic Kate/Reader, Harding!Reader)

Whipping Winds (completed, first fic in the fandom after watching the movie)

Make Me A Daddy (completed, smut one-shot, fucking in Tyler's truck during a twister)

Love You To Mars and Back (completed, christmas special one-shot, very Hallmark coded, Harding!Reader)

Into The Storm (completed, Harding!Reader and Tyler get sucked up by a twister that takes them back to 1996, angst and fluff, inspired by Back To The Future, going 88 miles per hour into a twister)

Be There When I Wake (in progress, 50th fic on Ao3, reader is Javi's sister and was in a coma, wakes up to Tyler's handsome face)

Ultraman: Rising (2024)

Ken/Kenji Sato

A Brave New World (completed, most popular fic on my account, established relationship with Ken, basically follows the movie, fluffy goodness, reader is Emi's stepmom)

Vampyr (Video Game)

Dr. Jonathan Reid

Small Joy (completed, pregnant!reader, Jonathan falls in love with you despite being a newborn vampire and that you're pregnant with your late husband's child)

Stress Relief (completed, helping Jonathan study leads to shameless sex, smut)

Vox Machina (coming soon)

[headlessjest]

How about some romantic stuff!! Some of y'all need your romance.

Hanging out HCs

Ft: Hank, Deimos, Sanford, Jedediah, Tricky, Sheriff, 2BDamned, Phobos, and Auditor.

Hank:

・I think y'all would probably just stay home.

・You both just had a very stressful mission, so why not relax back at the apartment.

・They'll probably watch TV with you with the few tv stations Nevada can have.

・Cuddling is something he can do with you too. Just on bed or on the couch and just cuddle.

・There will be a couple times where he just lays on the ground with you and wonder what the hell happened to this place.

・"(Name)... Thank you.."

Deimos:

・Going out and eating Burger Gil's!

・Deimos just wants to enjoy his favorite food place with you.

・This can also be an excuse to to eat at Gil's in general, but it's nice to do it with you.

・When y'all are done at eating at Gil's, maybe a quick trip to the bakery.

・He threw up the Burger Gil's on the way there so you had to carry him back home.

・"That burger was sure good, but you're just as good."

Sanford:

・Alright, endless stary night, blanket, and you two. That's how it's gonna go.

・Just you two hanging out on a hill and looking up on the stary night, relaxing.

・There will be a few times bandits will try and get you two, but that's why y'all brought guns to this evening.

・Other than getting interrupted by bandits and a couple of zeds, this hangout is wonderful for the both of you.

・You accidentally fell asleep during this, but Sanford didn't mind carrying you back.

・"Thank you for this time, sweetie.."

Jedediah:

・Going scavenger hunting.

・Jedediah surprisingly enjoys collecting stuff. It calms him down, and doing it with you makes him extra calm.

・You'll probably find a old coin or a rock with a cool texture and look to it and dash back to Jeb to show him.

・He also sometimes finds cool looking rocks and gives them to you. Like penguins.

・After going around and finding some cool stuff, you and Jeb head back home and organize all the stuff you both found.

・"These are beautiful, darling.. Just like you."

Tricky:

・Y'all go partying.

・I think y'all would also listen to your both favorite songs when partying. (His being all ICP songs and the chicken dance remix.)

・I think after the partying stuff is over with, y'all kinds just head back home and relax after the long night.

・If you get overwhelmed at the party, Tricky will notice and try to find a way to calm you down.

・Other than that y'all actually have a great time.

・"CL0WN L0V3S Y0U!!!1!1!"

Sheriff:

・I think y'all would hang out at a nice bar. (If possible that is..)

・I think he took you to the bar in the first place because it was the easiest place to go without him freaking the fuck out and being horrified.

・Also, because he's been busy lately and wanted to spend time with you.

・He might also get a little drunk from drinking too much.

・You also had to drag him back home.

・"Darlin'... When do you get so beautiful/handsome?"

2BDamned:

・Y'all also stay home.

・He just wants to relax with you and just hang out in bed. Nothing much really.

・He also is just a little stressed with everything, so relaxing with you seems like a perfect thing for the time being.

・I think y'all would also watch a quick movie for fun. Like a older movie from the later 90s and early 2000s.

・Other than that, relaxing with you makes his day better, no matter what.

・"This means a lot to me, (Name).. Thank you.."

Phobos:

・I think he would dance with in his office.

・The red lighten room and the slow jazz playing in the background, just you two slow dancing for the joy of it.

・Phobos made sure that no one would bother you both during this. I mean, quite literally.

・I think during this, you might doze off a bit from the slow atmosphere.

・Phobos does notice this and y'all get ready for bed.

・"Tonight was lovely.. We should do this again.."

Auditor:

・I think y'all just hang out and watch cat videos all night long.

・Most romantic thing I've ever heard.

・I think you both would also hold eachothers hand during too. Auditors love language is physical touch. (Somehow..)

・Another thing is that whenever you both see a cat that reminded of you both, you would point it out.

・This also made you both question about getting a cat.

・"Hm, a fur baby seems nice."

I'm absolutely shaking rn. Ate an entire tub of coffee icecream, also mixed with the excitement of watching the fnaf movie tomorrow!!!!

-Jester

[goosedoes-fics]

Madness Headcanons

Madcom x Reader

Content Warnings: I talk about tits a lot sorry. Also mentions of organ failure and transfem Tricky

Notes: Trying to get back into the writing groove. Sorry if this is shit

HANK J WIMBLETON

If you didn't know ASL before meeting them, they would communicate primarily with hand and head movements. He's too cool to use a notepad

Not a big fan of PDA, but in private he's quite affectionate and cuddly. theyre just a big ass guard dog cmon

Hank Motherfucker Wimbleton what are you doing here????? waiting for them to play gangnam styl.

DEIMOS

Transgenda

I like to imagine Dedmos's rock face works similarly to Hank's metal jaw. It's just a rock jaw. Rock lobster.

He is an ASSHOLE (affectionate)

The kind of person to like. Punch your shoulder when they laugh

Their ideal first date is stealing the declaration of independence

If you don't make him, he will go days without showering he is SO smelly anfd SO stinky. He has GREASY ASS HAIR i just know it

SANFORD

If Hank is a guard dog he's one of those goofy dogs that look like bear cubs

VERY big fan of PDA he will smooch you anywhere. everywhere. any time any place any day

He takes missions more seriously than Deimos but outside of missions he is just a big fat goofball

I'm going to place my hands directly on his man tits. anyways where was I

He lost his nipples in The War

I'm kidding. He lost them during top surgery.

At this point i'm aiming the transgenderification beam at all of them. nobody is safe. BE TRANSGENDER

DOC

Sometimes he wears his hair down and it's like a mullet w/ shaved sides

Out of all of them he's the most adverse to PDA but! In private he is very sweet. very silly

Hey are you okay with being tested on? Yeah? Cool will you drink this organ failure potion I brewed

Plays the piano sometimes! He might serenade you if you ask nicely

TRICKY

BE TRANSGENDER. (shoots her with my transfem beam)

Yeah so he/she bigender Tricky is real. Krinkels told me himself

He is like a big weird dog as well. He might lick your face (don't let him zed spit is slightly acidic)

Probably likes PDA the most. She will make out with you very grossly and sloppily in the middle of McDonalds

Very soft very fluffy. Which is surprising considering how many times he's died

His tail is somewhat prehensile, he could dangle from a tree branch if he tried hard enough

CHURCH AND JORGE

They are very good at sharing!

Sorry not sorry yandere enjoyers but they would NOT kill someone for looking at you they would be like haha yeah everyone should look at our awesome fucking partner theyre so cool and hot

Sometimes they forget how big they are compared to you so they might try to like flop over on you. Pigpile on the small one

Very prone to roughhousing and play fighting but they'll be gentle if you ask

BEEFY BOYS 😍

[idyat]

Hi hello 👋👋

Can you write some hcs for the main 4 +Jebus with a reader that flinches?

(If that's too much then just Hank is fine :3 )

Love your writing too! It is very pleasant to read :D

Soooo sorry for how long this took. And thank you so much!

Main 4 + Jebus x Flinchy reader headcanons

---------------------------

Hank:

-Nobody would be surprised by the fact that Hank can be very brash, and that therefore he makes people flinch a lot. It actually took them a bit of time to realize how often you do it because of this, and because they don't pay much attention to people until it's for a fight or he starts caring about them.

-If you start staring at eachother, expect them to suddenly brings their head forward just to get a laugh out of your flinching. Unless you don't like it. Then he'll stop immediately.

-They can be surprisingly gentle with you afterwards. The best murderer of Nevada should know how to handle as many situations as possibly after all.

-Believe it or not, he flinches a lot too! This is both because he has to be on constant alert and because his torn and battered body often just fails him. It's a little annoying when he's in the middle of a fight and his legs forget how to walk and he gets pummeled with bullets, but we digress.

-If it can be done, they'll try to help you control your flinching a little better. Especially if it happens during dangerous situations or combat, as that is his area of expertise. Maybe you could return the favour! Especially if you've dealt with this longer than he has.

-If the situation could suggest it, he checks for any potential hostile everytime you flinch. Or, they check if you are okay. A little hyperbolic? Maybe, but he takes every little thing about you seriously, including your flinching.

-He'll probably sneak up on you by accident a few times after rewiring his brain to be on ninja mode all the time.

SANFORD:

-Hopefully you're not too flinchy at loud noises, because Sanford has a few volume control issues with his voice. (If you don't get what I mean, listen to his Madness: Project Nexus voice lines.)

-And with the bombs and rapidly flying hook... Yeah, the poor guy is trying his damndest to be gentle, and he is failing.

-He's a bit of a worrywart when it comes to you, so expect a lot of apologies whenever he swings his arm a little too quick and fast or starts yelling suddenly.

-You'll probably have to reassure him if it isn't that big of a deal. Being himself is nothing to apologize about!

-He's also a bit concerned if this can happen when you're fighting or running away from something. He knows from experience that the slightest movement can mean life, death or severe injury in some situations. At least he's usually not far behind to take the hits or kill the threat.

-Sometimes he mildly startles you and chuckles. He likes the face you make when he does that.

DEIMOS:

-Another one who loooves to startle you just for the fun of it. And another one who'll stop if you ask him to. But if you're okay with it, expect him to hug you from behind with a "BOO!" and a giggle. (Then again, he'd do this whether or not you flinch at it.)

-He both likes to be annoying and is a little dumb. He'd ask you shit like "so do you flinch EXTRA when you pull back the measuring tape?" unironically and think he's hot shit who's sooo good at teasing you.

-"Does it work like a radar or something?"

"A what?"

"Like, do you flinch without knowing and that tells you if there's something nearby?"

"...Sometimes I flinch without realizing it."

"Yeah, now that I think about it... was a pretty stupid question."

"Didn't think before asking, hm?"

"I don't think a lot."

-Outside of his teasing, he's not likely to make any sudden movements or sounds, and will apologize if he accidentally startles you.

-He's very gentle when that happens. His voice is soft and raspy and his arms wrap so carefully around you. He doesn't actually take it that seriously if he can see you're fine, but he adores when he can be cute and romantic with you. And you probably like it too.

2BDAMNED:

-Doc noticed your common flinching whilst analizing you for whatever it is you do. Peaked his curiosity a little.

-He's one of the only two who actually thinks about asking if you have any idea why it happens, common flinch triggers, if there is a reason did it come with anything else he can help with, etc. He's very meticulous when he asks you.

-If your occupations aren't that dangerous, then he won't mind it; however if you often find yourself in danger, then he will eventually express a bit of concern, especially if you've had problems with it before. While he doesn't fight much himself, he may butt in a little, which could make for some bonding time.

-2B is very slow, so you won't find yourself flinching because of him... Unless you accompany him in operating his strange machinery. Only he truly understands those things.

-He'll often ask you if you're okay after he sees you get startled, and you may notice how closely he looks at or even how precisely he rubs the part of you he saw drop. While it may not be obvious at first, he cares about you so much and loves to observe every little detail about you

JEBUS:

-He will also ask if you know where it comes from. However he won't really try to suggest reducing the flinching, as he thinks you do well enough on your own.

-What he will do however, is gifting you a whole lot of armour and weapons "just in case". (He is indeed worried, but has a hard time expressing it.)

-Although he doesn't really make any brash noises or moves himself, trust that anytime he catches somebody making you flinch, he WILL get grumpy and protective. Even if you assure him it's no problem yourself, he'll be glaring daggers at them until they're out of the room.

-If there ever in an incident where he startles you, it probably would be while he's having a burst of anger. It would take a moment for him to realize and calm down.

-Once he does, you'll see him try to express his guilt and affection the best he can. There are not a lot of people he's genuinely cared about besides you, he doesn't want to snap and burden somebody else with himself.

-Bodyguard! As said earlier, if he was protective of you before, he is VERY protective now.

---------------------------

Sorry that 2B and Jebus' sections are a little shorter. At least Hank got a bonus 7th line.

[cook1emadness]

Your honor, i felt silly i didnt hit that baby 😞/j

I hope your having a greay day, and if you have time, can you make a oneshot of Deimos and Q-bert x Reader where the reader just hangs around with them around the base, goes out to eat burgers and more things ^^ (they are silly and smily in my heart)

Take care, and happy early pride month <3!!

I'm not good at oneshots, so I'm sorry if it's not good....

Sorry if I haven't been on. i was stressed over a lot of work and family stuff.

Your honor, your are the Arena Player. And it's going to be platonic. Might be some spoiler.

FRIENDS AND BURGERS...

Ever since you been imprinting more and more, you begin to be distant and forget mostly everything except for the same mission over and over again. Skinner asked you, but you brushed him off, Dave try to cheer you up, but you couldn't muster a smile, 2bdamned noticed ypu change of body and habit but didn't care to give you a break.

And soon everyone started to ignore you, and you were fine with that. Without connections, they won't be sad about you disappearing, and you won't feel bad hurting them.

But one day, Q- bert friend came to visit, who knew Q-bert was friends with one of the highest wanted criminals. You were back from a mission. You were walking your way to Q-bert shop after you brought some things from crackpot. You hear q- bert laughing but also head someone else. You turn to your left to see who Q-bert was talking to. You see a grunt with grey cap and headphones, smoking along with Q-bert.

deimos, you remember in one of your past imprints, about Q-bert mentioning you about him. You never thought about it much until now.

Q-bert kept talking until he noticed you in the distance, he removes his cigarette, and smiles at you.

"Hey, kiddo, back from your mission, didn't think you finish that quick. Got new weapons for you to buy, " Q-bert replied with a chuckle. Hw pulls out the new guns he has while he smokes the cigarette deimos gave him.

You hum in response, you and deimos looked at it eachother for a few minutes. You expected him to as you were about to grab some of the guns Q-bert showed.

"So you're the y/n that Q-bert been talking about, I thought you be bigger," deimos spoke, his voice sounding raspy. He had too much smoke.

You weren't expecting him to talk to you. You froze for a few seconds. "Oh yeah... what about it?" You respond back. You're not sure how to respond to him.

Deimos looked at you, not slightly surprised the way you responded. Q-Bert was right about you. You are not good with words.

"Not the social type, right?" Deimos replied. You slowly nodded even though it was clear. You're not one for speaking.

"Anyway gonna buy something, Kid?" Q-Bert looked at, still trying to get you to buy something, showing some variants of guns nad bigger ones. You bought the desert eagle, why? it looked nice.

You were about to leave for a mission, but Deimos stops you. He puts his arm over your shoulder.

"Hey, i was gonna invite Q-bert at Burger Gills, and now that you're here alive, how about you join us? Don't worry, I'll pay. " deimos looks at you, he noticed your body stopped, you don't know how to answer this.

You have been so busy torturing yourself with the timeloops and imprints, ignoring everyone that you didn't think anyone would try to pull you in a hangout session.

"No I'm fi-"

"Cmon kiddo, you hadn't eaten at all. Look at you. It looks like a poor grunt. " Q-bert also tried to grab you in. He wasn't stupid. He knew you had been ignoring everyone for something he doesn't understand.

He saw the way you ignored Skinner the way you tried to force yourself to not show emotion when Dave spoke. He saw the way your expression plead for a break, only to be ignored by you on 2bdamned. Depsite only wants money. He wants you to be healthy and not lose his favorite customer.

You wanted to say no, but you're hungry. You've been ignoring your body until now. You sigh and decide maybe some burgers won't be that bad.

"Sure, never been at gills before"

"Really? Well, buddy, you been missing out!"

And with that, all three of you went to Gils burger place.

.

.

.

That did not go well. Deimos was finally got burgers, while both Q-bert and you were covered in blood.

"You never told me there were zeds.." you replied

"My bad should've told you about that." deimos replied back with a smile showing his sharp teeth.

"Are you sure the burgers are not infected. I would rather be eating hotdogs than zed burgers." Q-bert replied, looking at the burgers with disgust.

"Totally! Sanford and I did this a bunch of times." deimos said, and he was right. After finding a table to sit, you were the fist to bite. It wasn't infected, and it was good, too.

Deimos and q-bert kept talking about guns he bought got destroyed by some agents, you can see q-bert despair.

You joined in trying your best to start conversations, to your surprising, deimos laughed at one of your mission and embarrassing moments that happened.

Slowly and slowly, you began to open up. You start to realize how much you miss those conversations with Skinner, Dave, Q-bert, chef and boss man.

the next imprint, you try to start conversation with the others and maybe visit deimos. You wonder if he'll still invite you to gils burgers. For now you enjoy what you have now...

[masked-men-fantasy]

Favorite Kink (Rainbow Six Siege)

You and them are getting along for awhile. It's time to learn more about their truest, deepest desire.

NSFW Content. MDNI.

Tachanka

Breeding Kink: Tachanka will whisper how well you take him, how his virile seed performs inside your fertile body, how your belly will grow, what the baby with you and him will look like, and how well he will take care of you once the baby is born. Fear not; if you are not ready for a baby yet, he will not do it without any protection. He will wait until you accept to be fully bred by him.

Bondage kink: Alexsandr was always drawn to the idea of tying you up with rope. Be the one in charge in the room with you losing all control completely. And my, oh my, Alexsandr is sure one hell of a dirty talker. He has a dictionary of dirty words inside his head, both in English and Russian. He knows how to use his voice and his Russian to his advantage, to turn you on, and to make sure you beg for more on his bed. 

Body worship kink: It is not easy to maintain the physique. Although it is part of his work, it is still challenging. Hence, Tachanka is very proud of his muscles and, overall, of his body. Guide your hand over his body. Give him plenty of massages and kisses. Perhaps compliment him on how handsome he is when he has those unique tattoos on his body. If you did this right, you can expect a hell of a ride tonight.

Kapkan

Hunter and prey kink: Maxim is a hunter by nature. He was raised to be a hunter, live like a hunter, and therefore enjoy sexual life like a hunter. If you both had a long holiday, he would bring you to the silent woods. Not well-known, no people, perfect for hunting you. Kapkan will let you run away from his hut for an hour before he starts hunting you down.  You might step into his non-lethal trap, or perhaps you might cause the sound by accident and give away your location. And in the end, with his skill, he will, of course, catch you within less than two hours.  Be prepared for rough, animalistic sex in the middle of the forest and on the way back to his hut. You won't get any breaks from him. Well, you cannot blame him for such behavior. The adrenaline kicked in after the thrill of the hunt, and you are too gorgeous. Plus, he deserves his reward for finally catching you with his hand.

Marking kink: Oh, and what comes along with hunter and prey kink is also his habit of marking. Kapkan hunted you down to own you. Therefore, he has to prove that you are his property. Be prepared for plenty of bite marks, hickeys, or some nail scratches. Fear not; you can do the same to him, and he is not afraid to show those marks to the rest of the Spetsnaz Unit. He takes your mark on his body as a trophy of pride.

Deimos

Sex toy kink: Deimos is a man of gadgets. His ability to engineer also grants him creativity for sex toys as well. He has many modified versions of sex toys. Extremely high-strength vibrator and e-stim, custom-made dildo that is exactly the same shape as his cock, or the best one yet, a drone that will monitor you while you masturbate while he is on a long mission. He has even more in store, and he cannot wait to use them with you.

Chastity kink: To be Deimos' lover, discipline and submission are must-haves. He wants to make sure that you are his and completely belong to him. A chastity device is one way to prove that. He will take the key that locked your chastity cage as a necklace on his dog tag.  Also, while he is away on another mission, he will constantly remind you by making you squirm with his deep, husky, dominant voice. He will order you to touch yourself through the cage and deny your orgasm just at the right time. And all of this will pay off well once Deimos is back home; the sex after that will be one of the best experiences you ever had.