#he is unpredictable in a lot of ways and that what makes him so dangerous to be around

[eu-nicola]

enemies

summary: the love-hate relationship between Rafe and you

warnings: small mention of violence

word counter: 4151

author's note: english is not my first language

The first time you met Rafe Cameron, you were barely six years old. You clearly remember how his stepmother, Rose, welcomed you into her home with a perfect smile, while your mother insisted that you play with him and Sarah so that you wouldn’t be alone. 

The Cameron house was as intimidating as its miniature owner. Rafe was nine years old and had an attitude that made him seem much older. He looked down at you from the top of the stairs as if you were an intruder, someone who didn’t deserve to be in his space. 

“She’s the Davies’ daughter?” he asked in that mocking tone that would become his trademark. 

“Yes, and I want you to be nice to her.” Rose ruffled his hair before turning to you, but Rafe’s gaze was already fixed on your shoes, which were muddy from playing outside before coming in. 

“I hope she doesn’t touch anything, Rose.” His voice was dry, as if he was already tired of you before he really met you. 

From that day on, your relationship with him was marked by constant clashes. Every visit to the Cameron house felt like a cold war disguised as childish games. He always found ways to make you feel out of place, like the time he took your doll from your hands while you were playing with Sarah and threw it across the garden.

“If you don’t know how to play well, don’t play.” That phrase of his stuck in your mind.

In adolescence, the gap between you grew wider. While Rafe became the most popular boy among the Kooks, you began to spend more time with the Pogues. Your visits to the Cameron house became less frequent, and when they coincided, things always ended badly.

“Look at you, you’re a Pogue now.” His tone was always hurtful, accompanied by that arrogant smile that got on your nerves.

“And you’re still the same idiot as always.” Your response was almost automatic, as if after so many years the discussions between you were a rehearsed routine.

But the real problem wasn't just his words. It was the way he always found a moment to annoy you. During a beach party hosted by Kooks, for example, Rafe made sure your drink ended up spilled all over your new dress.

But it wasn't all enmity, when the search for gold began, your world became more complicated. You spent your days with the Pogues, planning, looking for clues, and trying to avoid Rafe, who seemed willing to do anything to get the treasure. The tension between you, which was already high, skyrocketed. It wasn't just childish enmity now; it was real danger.

Rafe had no limits. His eyes were always filled with that spark of arrogance, but behind it was something darker, something that made him unpredictable. Despite that, you never imagined you'd find yourself in the position you found yourself in one afternoon in the dense woods surrounding the Outer Banks.

You were following a trail of marks on the trees along with JJ and Kiara when you heard a noise. You broke away from the group, promising them you’d be back quickly. What you found was Rafe, kneeling beside a steep slope, holding his leg in a wince of pain. The ground beneath him was wet, almost muddy, and it looked like he might slide down any second. 

You stopped dead in your tracks. Part of you wanted to turn on your heel and pretend you hadn’t seen him. After all, Rafe wouldn’t have done the same for you, would he? But another part, that part you always tried to stifle, knew you couldn’t just leave him there. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe snapped at you as you cautiously approached. His voice was heavy with distrust, but there was also a hint of relief he tried to hide. 

“I should be asking you the same thing. What happened?” You couldn’t keep the tone of your voice from being harsh. After all, he had done a lot of things that warranted your hatred. 

“I slipped. My leg… I can’t move it.” His face was pale, and his hands shook slightly as he tried to brush away the mud that covered his pants.

There was a long silence. You could have left him there. You could have turned and gone back to the Pogues. But something inside you wouldn’t let you.

“This doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” you said as you crouched down beside him.

Rafe looked at you in disbelief. “Are you helping me?”

“Shut up and don’t make it harder, Cameron.”

You offered him your arm and helped him up, leaning his weight on you as you slowly moved forward. It was an awkward process; his size made each step harder. But there was something odd about the silence you shared, a momentary truce amidst all the hostility.

When you finally dropped him off somewhere safe, away from danger, Rafe looked at you with a mix of wounded pride and something you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m not going to thank you,” he said at last, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t expect you to,” you replied, wiping the sweat from your brow. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“Wait.” His tone was softer than you’d heard before, almost vulnerable. You turned slowly to look at him.

“What?” you asked, tired.

“Did you see anything?” His question was direct, his gaze piercing.

You understood immediately. Rafe wasn’t just hurt; he was there for something related to gold. Maybe he’d found a lead, something he didn’t want the Pogues to know about. You could have told him the truth, that you’d noticed a map in his pocket when you helped him, but you chose to lie.

“No, I didn’t see anything.” Your voice was firm, although inside you felt a small knot of guilt.

Rafe seemed to relax a little, although he still looked at you with distrust.

Later, when the Pogues found a clue that fit too well with the area where you had seen Rafe, he understood what you had done. Someone, perhaps Sarah, told him that you were near the area when you separated from the group. It didn’t take much for him to put the pieces together.

The next time you saw him, his expression was completely different. There was no vulnerability or truce anymore, only fury.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he snapped at you, coming dangerously close.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to remain calm, although you knew exactly what he meant.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You lied to me. You took what was mine!” His voice was filled with rage, and though you knew it was unfair, there was something in his eyes that made you feel a pang of remorse.

“I don’t owe you anything, Rafe.” Your response was cold, though inside you felt more affected than you wanted to admit.

Rafe was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you. Finally, he took a step back, but not before making his feelings clear.

“Don’t ever cross my path again, Pogue.”

That was the beginning of a new phase in your feud, more bitter and personal than ever.

Your relationship with Rafe Cameron had reached a point where hatred seemed to be the only thing that united you. After your “betrayal” during the search for gold, any vestige of truce between you vanished. Although you would never admit it, there was something inexplicable that brought you back to square one: an enmity filled with tension, resentment, and something deeper that neither of you understood.

One of the worst fights you had occurred during a rainy night in the Outer Banks. The Pogues had been following Rafe, convinced that they had found another important lead to the gold. The chase led them to an old abandoned port, where you finally confronted them face to face.

“Always after me, aren’t you?” Rafe looked at you from the shadow of a warehouse, his soaked hair sticking to his forehead. The sound of the rain beat hard against the metal roof, but nothing could drown out the intensity of his voice.

“You have no right to that gold, Cameron.” Your words came out loaded with defiance as you clenched your fists. You knew you were probably playing with fire by facing him, but something in you couldn’t stop.

“And you are?” he replied, taking a step towards you. His eyes, dark under the rain, were filled with rage. “What makes you think you’re better than me, Pogue?.”

“For starters, I don’t try to kill people for him.” Your words made him laugh, a dry, bitter laugh that made you feel a chill.

“You think so?” Rafe leaned a little towards you, his voice lowering to an almost whispering tone. “You know perfectly well that you would do anything to protect your own, too. We’re not that different, even if it pains you to admit it.”

The argument soon turned physical. He tried to take the map from you, and you fought back with all your might. It was as if you were both so consumed by rage that nothing else mattered. You fell to the ground, feeling the cold wetness of the cement against your back, as Rafe tried to hold you down.

“Let me go, you moron!” you screamed, kicking him in the stomach.

“Give me the damn map!” he roared, clinging to your wrist.

For a moment, you thought it would all end there, that one of you wouldn’t walk away from this fight. But something changed. Rafe looked you straight in the eyes, and for a moment, his grip softened. He looked confused, as if he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep hurting you.

Finally, he let go of you and stood up, breathing heavily.

“I can’t do this.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.

“What…?” you were speechless, still lying on the ground.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, taking a few steps away from you.

“Go away. Take the damn map and go away.”

But not everything always ended in a truce. There was another time when it was you who had to decide between helping him or letting him face the consequences of his own actions. It was during a smuggling operation that Rafe had organized to finance his obsession with gold. You found him cornered in an alley, with a group of men who clearly did not have friendly intentions.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped at you when you appeared at the end of the alley. He was bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow, but he still maintained that defiant attitude.

“I saw your truck nearby.” You approached cautiously, analyzing the situation.

The men paid you no attention at first, but soon realized you could be a problem. One of them advanced towards you with a menacing smile.

“Another friend of yours, Cameron?” he said mockingly.

“Get out of here, Pogue. I don’t need your help.” Rafe’s voice was firm, but there was something in his gaze that made you stay.

Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t just leave him there. You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it hard at one of the men. It was enough to distract them and give Rafe a chance to fight back.

You helped him escape, though as soon as you turned the corner, Rafe turned to you, furious.

“Why do you keep butting into my business?” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Because I’m not like you, Rafe. I can't let someone die, even if they're an idiot like you.” Your answer made him let out an exasperated sigh, but he didn't say anything else.

In the end, it was always the same. They hurt each other, they hated each other, they betrayed each other... but they also always found a way to forgive each other. You didn't know why you did it. Maybe it was because you saw something in Rafe that others didn't see, or maybe it was because deep down you knew you weren't as different from him as you wanted to believe.

The only thing you knew for sure was that, no matter how hard you tried to hate him, something always made you go back to him. And the worst of all was that Rafe seemed to feel the same way.

Rafe Cameron drove you crazy in every possible way and that made you uncomfortable and annoyed, despite always finding gold on your path, you also found it on your path when you were calm, reminding yourself that you couldn't get rid of it even if you wanted to.

There were nights when the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe. The humidity was sticking your clothes to your skin, but it wasn't just the weather that made you feel this way; it was him.

Rafe Cameron always managed to find you, even when you didn't want to be found. His mere presence seemed to charge the atmosphere with an almost palpable tension, something that only existed between the two of you. Like that time on the dock, under the dim light of a broken streetlight. You were alone, waiting for JJ and Pope, when you heard their footsteps, firm, sure, approaching.

Your body tensed before you turned around. There he was, standing, with that arrogant posture that you detested so much. His messy hair and clenched jaw gave you every reason to hate him more than you already did. But as you looked at him, feeling his gaze sweep over every detail of you, there was something different, something that made you stop.

There was anger in his gaze, yes, but there was also something deeper, something dark that you recognized because you felt it too. Your hands clenched into fists, not because you wanted to hit him—though that was of course a tempting option—but because you wanted to stop the impulse that made you think about getting any closer than necessary.

It was a constant tug-of-war. One moment you wanted to push him into the water, make sure he disappeared from your life forever. But then, a part of you wanted to do the complete opposite, you wanted to get closer, erase the distance between you, and find out if that tension could transform into something more.

Rafe leaned against one of the dock posts, looking at you with a mix of defiance and curiosity. Everything about him seemed designed to provoke you. His gaze fixed, his shoulders relaxed but ready to move at the slightest hint of threat. It was so unbearably irritating, and yet, there was something you couldn’t ignore.

The wind blew hard, and you felt a chill run down your spine, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver. It was that unmistakable feeling of being on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t control.

You wanted to kill him. For all the times he had made you feel less than, for every hurtful word, for every betrayal and fight. But at the same time, you wanted to get close enough to know if that spark you felt between you could catch fire.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

Instead, you took a deep breath, ignoring how your heart was pounding. You turned your back on him, your steps firm on the wood of the dock as you walked away. You knew that if you stayed one more second, the line between hate and desire could blur forever. And you weren't ready to face what that meant.

You felt him stand still, watching you as you left. You didn't need to look back to know that that feeling would continue to haunt you, just as much as he did.

And you were right, a few days later that line blurred.

There was a storm that night, one of those that seemed to split the sky in two with each flash of lightning. The rain was pounding on the roof of the old abandoned cabin where you had taken shelter, trying to escape the chaos that the Pogues and Rafe had caused in the last gold hunt. Your hands were shaking with rage, not so much from the cold, but from the frustration of knowing that Rafe had, once again, gotten you into this situation.

You were alone, at least that's what you thought, until you heard the door slam open. You turned quickly, looking for something to defend yourself with, but seeing that unmistakable figure enter soaked to the bone, your heart stopped.

Rafe.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you thought, although you didn't bother to say it out loud.

He slammed the door behind him hard, shaking off the water like a rabid dog. His dark hair, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, as if he had run a marathon. His gaze met yours almost immediately, filled with that mix of fury and something more that always seemed to burn between you.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t look away either. There was something about him that night, something different. It wasn’t just the usual anger you two shared, or even the constant tension that seemed to surround you like a force field. It was something rawer, more real.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the roar of the storm outside. You felt the air in the cabin grow thicker, charged with electricity, as if lightning was about to strike right there.

“What? Are you just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot?” You had crossed your arms, trying to hide the trembling that ran through your body.

He didn’t answer, but he took a step towards you, slow, deliberate. You could feel the intensity of his gaze fixed on you, as if he could see past the facade you always tried to maintain. Your heart began to beat faster, and you hated that he had that effect on you.

“Rafe, don’t start,” you warned yourself mentally, even though you weren’t sure what it was you wanted to avoid.

But he kept coming closer. You could see every detail of his face now: the raindrops sliding down his jaw, the way his lips were pressed together as if he were holding something back. His presence filled the small space between you, and suddenly, the hatred you’d always felt for him didn’t seem enough to explain what was happening.

You didn’t know who made the first move. Maybe it was you, maybe it was him, but in an instant, the distance disappeared. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer to him with a force that made you gasp. His mouth crashed into yours with an intensity that left you breathless, as if all that pent-up rage had finally found an outlet.

Your hands clutched at his wet shirt, trying to push him away and pull him in at the same time. The kiss wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t tender. It was an explosion of everything you had bottled up for years: the hatred, the frustration, the attraction that neither of you wanted to admit.

You felt his body press against yours, trapping you between him and the wall of the cabin. His breath was hot against your skin, mixing with the cold of the storm that continued to rage outside. His every move seemed to call out something you didn’t know you’d been holding back, and for a moment, you let yourself go.

But it was only a moment.

Suddenly, you pulled away, your hands on his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“This… can’t happen.” Your voice was barely a whisper, shaky but firm.

He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you said it all. There was something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, something vulnerable that completely disarmed you.

The storm outside continued to rage, but inside the cabin, all was calm. Rafe didn’t try to come closer again, and you didn’t dare look him in the eye as you turned away, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it might explode.

After that night in the cabin, something changed, though you both tried to act like it hadn’t. That first time was an accident, you kept telling yourself, something driven by rage and storm. But what happened next made it clear that there was something more, something that went far beyond hatred or tension.

It wasn’t long before you met again. It was in one of the alleys behind The Wreck, where you had hidden yourself after a fight with Sarah and the others. Rafe appeared as if the universe was conspiring against you. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you with that mix of arrogance and determination that seemed to be part of his essence.

“You’re not here to worry about me, Cameron. What do you want?” you had snapped harshly, crossing your arms as if that physical barrier could protect you.

He didn’t answer right away, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. What followed was just as impulsive as the first time: his lips finding yours with a burning urgency, your hands clinging to his shirt as if the world could fall apart at that moment and you wouldn’t care.

Logic disappeared when you were with him. All you had left were pure emotions: desire, rage, need. In those moments, you didn't think about the past or what was coming next. You didn't think about the fights, the betrayals, or the reasons why you were supposed to hate him. There was only his hands on your skin, the sound of his breathing, and the way he managed to make you forget everything else.

But the next day, there was always something that reminded you why you hated him. Like that time you saw him bullying Pope at the dock, his overbearing attitude making it clear that the Rafe of last night and the Rafe of today were two sides of the same coin.

"You're an asshole," you had yelled at him later, when you faced him away from the others.

He shrugged, as if he didn't care, but his gaze searched yours, almost defiant.

"Don't expect me to change for you," he seemed to say without words.

You walked away furiously, promising yourself that this would be the last time. You couldn’t keep falling for that game, not when he was still the same cruel boy you’d known all your life.

But then, something always drew you back. Like when he found you after you were almost caught in one of John B’s crazy antics. He helped you escape, even covering for you when the Kooks passed by. It was an unexpected gesture, one that left you bewildered as you shared a moment of calm on an old boat hidden in the swamp.

“Thanks, I guess,” you’d told him, though your words were filled with skepticism.

He smirked, the kind of smile that always got on your nerves.

“Don’t think about it too much.”

But you thought about it. Every gesture of his, every glance, every clandestine kiss was etched into your memory, fueling a cycle you couldn’t break.

Of course, you had your part in that dynamic, too. There were times when your own actions infuriated him, like the time you stole information from him about the gold hunt and shared it with the Pogues. His reaction was explosive: he found you on the dock, his gaze filled with betrayal and fury.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he said, his voice deeper than usual.

For a moment you thought he would leave you there, that this would be the end. But no. Even though you had betrayed him, even though you had defied him in every way possible, he always came back. Just like you came back to him.

[deathbxnny]

Ooh ooh i love your headcanons, would it be possible if i request some headcanons of Capitano, Baizhu and Childe with a Jingliu!Reader please?

Genshin men with a Jingliu!Gn!Reader. | Capitano, Baizhu, Childe

Here you go, Anon!!<3

Content: Angst, Reader is a bit unhinged, battles, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

He knew you from way before your nation fell. You were a legend. A well-known and respected warrior who carried themselves with pride at all times. Your blade never rusted nor dulled. You were strong. And he looked up to you for as long as he could remember you.

But alas, the curse had even gotten to you. It didn't rot you from the inside out but instead corroded your mind permanently. Nothing you did was as clean or precise anymore. You were unpredictable and near unhinged at times, your bloodlust a tragic insult to your previous legacy as you yearned for battle. He entertained you in such moments often, just to keep you from hurting others.

Your memories have faded even for him, but that doesn't mean that he isn't willing to remind you of anything you want to know when asked. He's patient and calm, knowing that deep down, you were still stuck in a never-ending battle, but this time against yourself.

Since there is no cure for either of you, you've become content in eachothers company. You are kind and soft whenever you aren't lusting for death and carnage, so life isn't all too terrible. You lead troops at his side and train them to perfection naturally.

Capitano is thankful for every moment you decide to spend at his side, as that way, he still at least has one good thing going for him in this cruel world.

》BAIZHU

He met you in terrible condition, as you were suffering from severe side effects from your condition. It took him a while to figure out how to heal you the best he could and eventually settled on simply blindfolding you to alleviate the pain and sudden outbursts from you. You didn't leave after you got back onto your feet and stayed at his side ever since.

You made his life a lot brighter and warmer than it previously was. You were kind and patient with his condition, even visibly concerned for him on days when he could barely stand. You both know that his end was near, yet yours would eventually come too. In a way, you both found yourselves to be equals in that sense, which made your bond grow stronger.

Your bloodlust and need for battle make you very unpredictable and even dangerous at times, but he has learned how to deal with it perfectly over time. He's in fact the only one that can make you snap out of it when needed.

With that said, neither you nor Qiqi are permitted to run around Liyue alone together. One of you would always forget what you even went out for to begin with, whilst the other would ponder about life philosophies and completely derail your quest of getting the thing you were even sent out for. It was a mess every time, and he decided that the chaos was just not worth it...

》CHILDE

You had met during one of your unpredictable outbursts. A violent battle ensued, and by the end of it, he felt a connection to you that left him breathless. He could tell that you were a warrior, a very skilled one. And so, he stuck by your side ever since, never letting you shake him off until you've accepted his place at your side.

He's perhaps the best person to end up with due to your need for battle and blood. Your outbursts are handled with concerning ease every time, as he enjoys the thrill of it. He loves the way you don't hold back, never the one to acknowledge that you truly didn't have control over it to begin with.

Childe begs you to train with him and to teach him everything you know. He's very much obsessed and doesn't hide it either, to say the least. Daily hard-core workout sessions that last far into the night are definitely the norm for you both... but what he begins to eventually enjoy the most is how kindly and lovingly you treat him afterward. Your patience and gentle self were deeply appreciated by him.

He brags about you to everyone and everything that his ears, his family, friends, and colleagues become near sick of him by the end of it. But he is just so thankful to have you and wants to make sure you know this.

[handfulofmuses]

gets underestimated by people a lot but his smarts are terrifying.

[gregrulzok]

What I find really really compelling about Laios' special interest is this:

As a person who's special interest is dogs, I'll tell you right now that I fucking love them. I live in a city full of strays, and I actively go out of my way to pet, play with, and interact with them. It brings me a lot of joy and comfort to be able to be surrounded by puppies.

I will also be the first to tell you that, like it or not, dogs are animals - and animals, ultimately, can be unpredictable. They can be scared, they can be territorial, and they can be impulsive. And while I genuinely believe that there's no such thing as a bad dog or an angry dog - only a scared one - I also don't believe it makes a functional difference once a dog has bitten you what intentions it may have had.

Dogs are dangerous. I've seen people get bitten, I've been bitten, I've had close calls, some of which were my own fault and others which were not.

And Laios reflects this so beautifully, especially in the Kelpie arc. He's not blinded by his love for these creatures, he's not overtaken by baseless empathy - he understands, understands better than anyone, that these are at the end of the day monsters, and they are dangerous, and when push comes to shove sometimes you've just got to kill them. In fact it's his love for them that lands him this knowledge and understanding in the first place - just as I know that there's no room for fear and weakness when it comes to interacting with dogs, he knows there's no room for hesitation and empathy when it comes to interacting with montsers.

It's so fucking realistic of someone who genuinely researches and cares about these creatures, rather than superficially "liking animals" and then trying to assign human qualities to inherently inhuman creatures.

God.

Laios is fantastic fucking representation.

[shidoukanae]

also now realizing there's a heavy possibility that the unknown event Daniel references where he asks Lyla "how are you going to find your happiness?" is the same event Helene references when she tells Lyla that Lyla "betrayed" her.

Coincidentally, that's probably the same event that allowed Helene to be manipulated by the Empress into turning against Lyla and might have been the cause of Daniel leaving Lyla (probably to find out how to awaken as a dragon so he could gain the power to take her away from her family faster? maybe even going so far as to try and compete w/ Paris for the throne if it means protecting Lyla?)

There's also a suspicious gap of time from when Helene was poisoned to when she told Lyla to get away from her that has been omitted. And considering baby Lyla cries about Helene not wanting to be with her anymore...and that same baby Lyla is seen hugging Daniel in the unexplored scene...Lyla what the fuck did you do to Helene to embitter her like this?

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (pt 2)

This one actually is edited thanks to @basementqueercock! Thank you friend!

part 1 | Masterpost

-------

Vlad had been making a stink at the Gala about the Wayne brats taking his godson from him without his permission when the music suddenly cut out. Bruce Wayne himself stalked towards Vlad with an expression that was honestly a little intimidating, even if Vlad obviously wasn’t scared of such an empty headed pretty boy even if he was one of the richest and most influential people on the planet. He was Plasmius! He could take a rich pretty boy is he had to!

“Ah! Mr. Wayne, thank goodness! Your children have taken my Godson off somewhere! I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank but he’s a bit fragile and unpredictable so I really think that it would be best if-“

“Is he fragile and unpredictable because he’s pregnant and you knew?” Bruce asked low and dangerous. Silence spread out around them, even though there’s no way they could have heard they saw the look on Brucie’s face. He rarely got angry but when he did it was serious, when he did it usually meant someone had hurt a kid.

Vlad blanched for a moment, Danny had been so tight lipped about it, so unwilling to tell even those he trusted how did These people know?! “What? What on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s not pregnant, I mean he’s a boy!” Vlad huffed and Bruce’s jaw tightened even more somehow.

“He’s not leaving with you. Get out.” He said low and menacing, then raised his voice. “Sorry to cut the party short everyone but something has come up, a situation that really needs my attention so I’m going to have to put an end to the party early.”

“What do you mean!? He’s MY God son! MY heir! You can’t just keep him from me!” Vlad said, he knew that his eyes were starting to glow a little red but he couldn’t help it. “He’s MINE! Return him to me or you will regret it I swear!”

“See him out.” Bruce said dismissively to a handful of guards who had approached at the start of the commotion A lot of the socialites were already starting to see themselves out, now was not the time to argue, or even stick around when it looked like this might get physical.

“I will be back! I will be back with lawyers and police and the brat’s parents,” Vlad vowed but couldn’t risk fighting the guards any more than a usual old man would on the way out with so many eyes on him. Well he just needed to find a place alone. Then he could transform and come back, possess Bruce Wayne and make him do something heinous in public to ruin him for this.. this- this INDIGNITY!

-------

Bruce was having a hard time keeping his Batman expressions off his face as he saw that everyone was out of his house and he knew his children were having the same trouble. Dick looked like he was ready to bash someone’s head in and Steph wasn’t that much better. Damian was standing by the door, seeing everyone out with frosty politeness that no one would mistake as genuine. Bruce felt just a little bad, it wasn’t anyone’s fault what they had found tonight. No one else knew about the clearly abused teen they were currently harbouring, but none of the family could help it either. Bruce would send all the guests gift baskets once they could announce what was going on.

Alfred was on the phone with Bruce’s lawyers, sending them the mildly distorted audio from Danny’s earlier conversation with Cas and Dick, and the footage from Vlad Master’s outburst. That had the same sort of distortion over it too which was odd, he’d have to look into it. Cas had already informed him she thought Danny was a meta of some sort, maybe it was connected to that? Or maybe they were aliens? Though Danny being trans was currently the most plausible explanation for his pregnancy. They’d find out more later. What mattered was the footage of both of those would be enough for Bruce to get emergency custody while the family was investigated. 

Tim was with Danny in the room Alfred had fixed for him, helping him settle in and lending him some clothes. Tim was the closest to Danny’s age and also one of the calmer ones right now so he was in charge of trying to make Danny feel safe and comfortable while the family took up battle stations to deal with the legal and logistical elements of this.

Bruce made sure everyone was out, the perimeter was secure, and Oracle was at her computer watching the security feed for anything suspicious including the pattern of distortion Vlad and Danny seemed to emit. He wasn’t sure how paranoid he should be about all this, but he’d seen the way Vlad’s eyes sparked red when he was angry and Batman was sure he was a lot more dangerous then he first seemed. And not just in the way that he was apparently willing to impregnate a boy young enough to be his son.

Finally he couldn’t avoid going to check on Danny anymore. Not that he was Really avoiding it, just that he knew this was going to be an exhausting and difficult conversation and he needed to brace himself for it. With every step towards Danny’s new room he felt the weight gather on his shoulders of what this child must have been through.

He knocked, and let himself in. Immediately clocking the way Danny tensed at the sight of him. Of course a rich older man would set off his alarm bells. Bruce gave the softest smile he could and went to pull out the desk chair across from the bed Danny was sitting on, well out of arms reach so he wouldn’t seem like a threat as he sat down. He glanced at Tim who nodded and went and sat on the bed next to Danny. Solidarity, willing to stand up against Bruce if Danny needed it, safety.

“Hello Danny, it’s nice to meet you. My children told me a bit about.. your situation,” Bruce said with a small grimace. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions? I promise I won’t judge you whatever you say, and I promise I am on your side. No matter what I will try to keep you safe okay? Just tell me the truth, it’ll help me do what needs to be done.”

“Alright Mr. Wayne,” Danny said, though he was still wary.

“Thank you, please call me Bruce. So first, what’s your full name?” he asked deciding to start super easy.

“Daniel James Fenton,” Danny replied softly.

“Your parents names?”

“Doctors Madeline and Jack Fenton,” Huh the fact that he called his parents doctor like it was part of their name seemed to be significant though Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 16,” He said. A little older than he looked but still no where near old enough to have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did.

“And you’re pregnant?” Bruce asked as gently as he could, Danny nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Danny said softly and Bruce nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Did you take a test then?” He asked and Danny grimaced making a so so motion.

“It’s not… that simple,” He said softly.

“Can you explain it to me please?” Bruce asked softly.

Danny took a deep breath and licked his lips, hesitating, opening his mouth to stat, hesitating again and biting his lip. Bruce stayed quiet as he watched the conflict on Danny’s face. “You work with the justice league right?” Danny asked suddenly which seemed like a bit of a non sequitur to Bruce but he needed. “A bunch of the members aren’t human right?” Ah, Bruce nodded again. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am Danny,” Bruce promised, soft and reassuring. “People don’t have to be human or from earth to be people. Whatever is going on with you you’re still a person, and a kid, and deserve to be protected.”

“Okay,” Danny said as he scrutinized Bruce’s body language for any sign that he was lying. “Okay. I’ve never been able to trust any adults with this shit but I can’t keep doing this on my own so okay. I’m not human, not fully anyway, not anymore. These are..” He touched his stomach. “Like if you did an ultrasound you wouldn’t see embryos more like… Hang on Here.”

Bruce blinked as Danny suddenly, reached Inside himself, and before he could panic Danny had pulled out a perfectly round object that filled his palm. It shimmered with light from within, cold and sparkling with stars. “Our kind is more energy and light then anything else. This is Us, the mind, heart, everything we are is stored in our core the rest is formed around that. I mean for most of my kind, I’m still half human.” Danny said before replacing the orb inside him. “I have two other little cores inside me right now, feeding on my energy to develop properly, you could see them on an Xray. I don’t know how long they’ll take honestly.” He sighed caressing his stomach again.

 “But I can feel them inside me, I can feel their worry when I’m scared, and their joy when I’m happy, and their love. They’re my babies.” He said with the softest most paternal smile on his lips. The bags under his eyes were awful, he was clearly exhausted and stressed, but his expression told Bruce Danny thought it was all going to be worth it for his children. It brought a lump to his throat he had to clear before he could speak again.

“Okay, do you have access to healthcare appropriate for your.. species?” He asked and Danny nodded. Though he was tight lipped still.

“There are protections for non-human species in America you know,” Tim said.

Bruce and Tim exchanged a confused look as Danny barked a laugh. “Not for MY kind, we were specifically excluded,” He said with a wry curl to his lips. “The shadow or echo left behind when a proper human dies, not sentient or sapient they say. Malicious and dangerous they say. To be captured or exterminated on sight. They would take me, experiment on me, probably put my babies in jars or something.”

Oh, oh fuck, he was shaking, eyes blank and glassy like he was heading towards a panic attack. “Danny! Danny look at me,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and Danny’s gaze flicked up to his face. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they don’t get you. You’re clearly not what they say, and anyone who would hurt a child is not the good guy in this story.”

“Who are they?” Tim asked with an expression that promised swift and vicious retribution.

Danny took another deep breath. “The GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward. They’re a government agency, they’ve been hunting in my hometown for a while. Early on we tried to call the Justice Legue, but I think they were jamming the lines or something,” Danny said looking down and biting his lip.

Fuck this poor kid really couldn’t catch a break! Bruce was sure that the ‘ghosts’ these idiots were hunting weren’t really anything of the sort, but he would look into this and see what he could find. Tim was clearly itching to as well bad he wasn’t willing to leave Danny alone with Bruce, good lad.

“And what about your parents? Do you think you could be safely returned to their home?” Bruce asked, as much as he wanted to keep Danny reunification was supposed to be the goal of fostering.

“No!” Danny nearly yelped sitting up straight. “No! They work for the GIW! They design most of their weapons. If they ever found I’d been contaminated- I don’t want to think the worst of them but even if they still recognized me as their son the babies-“ He cut off, wrapping both his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself.

“Okay, we’ll call child protective services, my lawyer, and the Justice League. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bruce promised Danny. “And you can stay here as long as you need to. Is there any other family you would want to go to?” Bruce asked, just to be sure, but he wasn’t surprised when Danny shook his head and grabbed a pillow to hug.

“And I know Oracle and Red Robin will be itching to find out more about this ‘government agency’,” Tim said. “I want to go tell them Danny, if Bruce and I go will you be okay on your own or do you want me to ask Cas to come stay with you?”

“Cas please? If she’s not busy?” Danny asked uncertainly and Tim nodded. Bruce was getting up before Danny spoke up again. “I have a sister, Jazz. She knows about me not being fully human, but not about the babies. She’s a good person, and she’s almost an adult. I don’t know, I just need you to know she’s good, and I don’t want to mess things up for her,” Danny said worriedly.

“Of course Danny, thanks for letting me know,” Bruce said with a smile already making plans to get her out as well. “We’ll let you know as soon as there are developments.” He promised before both he and Tim ducked out. They split up, Tim going to find Cas and ask her to go back to Danny before they reconvened in the bat cave, they had a lot of research to do.

next>

[tomriddleslovergirl]

May i request a platonic yandere batfam x willing gn reader who is very unpredictable? Like one night Tim was monitoring them sleeping. He took a sip of his coffee, when he look back, reader is gone. He panicked only to find reader eating a midnight cereal in the kitchen. Or when they went out on a patrol one night and saw the reader waving at them(from a very secluded place), bringing them some snacks.

But the thing is, they never really tried escaping so...what do you think?

Yandere!Batfamily x Unpredictable!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of reader having a bad home life, kidnapping, gn reader

Platonic!Bruce Wayne x Reader, Platonic!Tim Drake x Reader, Platonic!Dick Grayson, x reader, Platonic!Jason Todd x reader

Bruce has a lot of experience with kids doing dumb ass shit and not listening to him, so he’s prepared, even though the circumstances are pretty different, considering how overprotective the whole family is over you.

It kinda makes sense to the Batfamily why you haven’t tried escaping. You didn’t have the best home life before, and having a billionaire as your new “dad” is a pretty big step up from that.

Though before they got it into their heads that you weren’t trying to escape, you gave them quite a few scares.

For example, one night Tim was supposed to be monitoring you while he slept. He had gotten up to get another cup of coffee, but when he came back, you weren’t in your room anymore.

Where did you go and how tf did you get past all those alarms without tripping them?

Tim was quickly looking through each of the monitors, when he saw you in the living room reading a book.

It was obvious that you weren’t trying to escape. Though he didn’t understand why you weren’t trying to leave the manor. Maybe you had gotten Stockholm syndrome?

Another time, Dick was on patrol, bored, when he heard you calling for him.

Curious, he turned around and there you were, waving at him using one hand and the other holding a plastic bag.

What were you doing out here? No way the old man would’ve let you go out this late.

Dick went up to you and you explained that you had snuck out to hang out with him.

Dick lectured you on how sneaking out can be dangerous and told you to not do it again. Though he let you stay with him for a little bit while you both chatted & ate the snacks you brought.

He noted to tell Bruce to up the security.

There have been times you snuck into Jason’s apartment just to hang out with him.

Though, he’ll make you go back to the manor if he has to go on a mission.

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[sunderwight]

Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.

For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.

So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.

Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!

The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.

But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.

Possible fic ideas involving this setup:

-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.

-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.

-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Calcharo, and Jiyan with shy gn s/o?

Jiyan

He doesn’t mind your shyness, not one bit.

He’s not exactly someone who can actively engage in socialising, especially not when most of his time was spent on the frontlines talking about strategies, supplies and coming up with ways in which they would avoid having mass casualties.

So if anything he’s the last person to judge you on your shyness. It would be unfair.

Jiyan is the person you go to for comfort, for advice because he brings you a lot of clarity and certainty unlike any other that you feel as though you could go to him for anything and he would try his best to help you, which is true.

He didn’t mind it when you practically tried to hide yourself behind him whenever there were people talking to him, he just reached a hand behind him in search of your own and holds it reassuringly until the group leaves, where he would then ask if you were okay.

Jiyan would much rather spend time with you in a secluded spot away from everyone, watching the Gulpuffs swim by as you both sat underneath the shade of a trees then be anywhere else if it made you happy.

He’s always preferred moments of peace and quiet after dealing with the chaotic and unpredictable situations he’s use to on the front lines, is sometimes he finds it hard to make his body relax and enjoy life when his eyes were always looking for the next big threat. So being in those moments of peace and quiet with you made jiyan relax easier as he had someone he deeply cared for to share this moment with.

He’d even find it even more peaceful if you were to fall asleep against his side, comfortable with him enough to allow yourself to be in a vulnerable position as he’s left to watch over you as you slept, always guarding you from everything and anything that would do you any harm.

Bonus if he falls asleep soon after, resting his head atop of yours and it acts as a cute moment to look back on with fondness and gratitude that you stayed by his side.

Jiyan worries that might not always be there for you due to his duty as General, he also worries that he might not make it back to you one day, that one day he’ll see you for the last time before going back to the frontlines to face the new threat.

So he makes you promise to plant a flower just for him if that were to ever be the case and you hugged him as tightly as possible in response, muttering that he wouldn’t die, jiyan wordlessly hugged you back equally as tightly, internally wishing that your words held truth to them for the future was always uncertain; now more then ever.

Calcharo (I love this Vergil/sepihroth looking beauty)

Another man who doesn’t care whether you were shy or not.

At first he might’ve intimidated you but after several instances where you were shown that he was far from the stories -or misconceptions as he’d call them- that you’ve heard about him and his group.

He’s a gentle and sweet man when you saw past the perpetually grumpy, brooding air about him.

He’s more or less protective over you and wants to keep you safe from anything and everything, human or not, no one was safe from his wrath if he were to be made aware of you being in any danger.

So Calcharo tries to stay close to you however he can so that he could keep an eye out for shifty characters with ill intentions, he does not tolerate it when people take advantage of people who couldn’t stand up for themself, it was pathetic and cowardly in his eyes and he want about to let you be their next target.

He’s a man of few words but that’s because he mainly lets his actions do most of the talking. So if he saw there was something you’d like but couldn’t find the voice to speak about it, he would silently stalk away and come back to present you with the thing you wanted in hand.

Calcharo could read you like a book and knew what you wanted and needed by a few simple bodily gestures. He wanted you to feel comfortable with him and he knew that takes time because he too took time to get accustomed to having someone in his life.

‘Do- do you ever get tired of me?’ You asked one day and Calcharo could tell it took all the willpower you had just to come up to him and say it.

‘What do you mean by that dearest?’ He said as he watched as you internally fight to get the words out and growing frustrated with yourself when you went to open your mouth, only for nothing but silence to come out.

‘Take your time.’ He calmly reminds you and you took a deep breath.

‘It’s just- I know I’m shy and struggle with doing things on my own such as order a meal or making doctors appointments, but I can’t help but think that maybe you’re getting tired of me for not doing things on my own.’ You admitted to him, finally getting the weight off of your chest as you stared at the brooding man in front of you, worried about what he might say.

‘I do not grow tired of you, I don’t think It’s right of me to grow tired of you when all you’ve ever been doing is trying your best.’ Calcharo replied as he stood in front of you and slowly reach for your hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb. ‘Your shyness is far from an issue for me and you shouldn’t have to be expected to be perfect at everything just to keep a partner or a friend.’ He squeezes your hand reassuringly. ‘So no, I do not grow tired of you.’

Calcharo couldn’t care less if you were shy or not, you were his partner and he cared for you immensely, which to him should be enough proof.

He may not be the best lover but for you, he tries.

[pseudowho]

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you,  "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

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The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already.  And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder.  He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

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[tetsuskei]

⟣ kiss it better - tartaglia [nsfw]

synopsis: your boyfriend sees you wear makeup for the first time and reacts accordingly

warnings: oral (male receiving), face fucking, facial, ajax is a pervert :/, he cums a lot, childe is called by his birth name, self indulgent, russian pet names, reader is implied to be from sumeru, fem reader, one small chomp from childe

word count: 2k

its evening in your comfortable abode, and often a sight is you sitting in front of your vanity taking care of yourself. whether it be brushing your hair or doing your skin care routine for the night, the methodical way you go about your business brings comfort to your boyfriend, ajax. the domestic nature of it all brings a sense of normalcy to his unpredictable and dangerous life. you’re the purest piece, and he wishes to keep it that way.

but this time, he notices a plethora of different cosmetic items. all unfamiliar with him. he doesn’t remember seeing you buy them the last time he went out shopping with you.

the harbinger pauses, watching you in front of the mirror. “what’re you doing?”

“my makeup.” you answer as if it’s an everyday occurrence. you never really wore it before, normally barefaced or at the most, a little mascara and lip gloss, but that’s it. so to see this is…interesting.

the ginger is now looming over you into your space. one would think he’s too close, but you’ve grown accustom to him always invading it. making it his space, too.

“you don’t usually wear that stuff, though.” he notes, watching you paint glittering eye shadow on. “why are you wearing it now? is there…a special occasion?”

you flinch at his words, and he flinches in reaction to your reaction.

“i’m going out tonight with candace and dehya. they’re the ones who recommended me these things, and so i just wanted to try something different.” you explain.

ajax attempts to diffuse the situation. “i see…you know you don’t need all of that, right? you look fine as you already are. in fact, i think you look better without it!”

you glower. “last time i checked, i’m not wearing it for you.”

he panics, “of course not! you’re allowed to wear and do what you want. you look very beautiful—as you always do!”

a small hum in response makes him relax and he lets out a small sigh. he would live another day.

you, on the other hand, sense your boyfriend still hovering, and your mild irritation continues to grow inside of you.

“…do you still need something?” you ask, focusing now on your eyeliner.

he shakes his head rapidly. “no. i’m just…curious! i’ve never seen you do this before, you know.”

but you know ajax. it’s one thing to be curious, but another for someone to be leering. and with the way your boyfriend’s dull eyes bore into your very being, for once—it puts yourself on edge.

you sigh, not bothering to look at him. “just spit it out, ajax.”

“c-can i cum on your face?” he blurts.

it’s silent and the unreadable expression on your face makes him nervous. you’re quiet—much quieter than usual, and the last thing he wants to do is offend you (more than he already has).

admittedly, he can’t help himself, though. the mental image of him standing over your pretty face would not leave his mind, unfortunately. he can’t get over the idea of you kneeling, doe eyes looking up at him with anticipation as he jerks himself to the very sight of you. is he wrong for thinking of that?

“i-i mean, when you’re done wearing it? not right now of course!” he laughs nervously, and you don’t know whether to feel sorry or amused as he explains himself.

“you’re disgusting.” you finally respond, but there’s not a single hint of malice behind your words as you speak. the corner of your painted lips is tilted up in a quirk, and he wonders how you were ever so shy before when meeting him. but it is all attributed to how truly hot you look right now. you know how good you look and what it does to him. “that’s what you’re curious about?”

ajax’s cheeks flush and he looks really bashful, scratching his head and looking at the tiles on the ground. “sorry.”

you both know he’s not sorry.

“you’re the one who said i didn’t need this, yet you want to cum on my face?” you hum, straightening up once you’re finally finished. walking towards him, you note how frozen in place he is.

putting a manicured hand on his shoulder, you look up at him. “what are you thinking about now?”

he laughs, ignoring the feeling of his cock stirring from smelling your perfume and shampoo. his hands twitch. “ahh, not much.”

you kneel in front of him, hands messing with the belt and zipper to his pants. there’s a bigger smile on your face as you eye his bulge. “‘not much’?”

fuck. he really wants to make a mess out of you. to wipe that smug look off of your face.

“n-no, not—shit, baby—really.” you’re already unbuckling and unzipping him, pulling both pants and briefs down in one go as you grasp him.

there’s absolutely no point in him lying anymore with how hard he is. practically begging for release, his purpling tip dribbles copious amounts of pre. bobbing and twitching eagerly and craving release. like a jewel shimmering diamond, his thick cock has never looked prettier.

the smallest whine leaves ajax when the cold air hits him, bringing greater sensitivity to his skin.

on the other hand, he isn’t really lying. the sight of you has his mind running blank. you look gorgeous and he wants to stare at you for hours. is that really so weird?

“really?” you’re stroking him now, single hand moving leisurely as you stare up at him through your thick lashes.

“well now you’re teasing me.” he says, averting his gaze from your sinful stare.

“i’m only trying to give you what you want, ajax.” you laugh, painted lips kissing his tip. you hear his breath catch as you continue to plant kisses but on his freckles and scarred skin. every inch of his thighs are caressed and touched with care, and his cock weeps with jealousy.

“c-can’t you just? ugh—“ he’s whining, face completely flush, “put it in!”

you pinch his thigh in warning. “ask nicely.”

your boyfriend groans. “mila, you’re…you’re killing me here. please.” he whines, trying to move, but you hold his hips still.

“i’ll give you what you want if you’re honest with me.” you bargain, kissing the pretty freckles that decorate his pale thighs once again.

he’s hiding his face in his hands now, and you never thought he’s looked cuter. “i just…can’t stop thinking about what you’d look like…covered in my cum.”

at his words, your kisses move up towards his balls. they’re heavy and taut, sensitive to the warm, plush feeling your lips share against his skin.

“is that it?” your tongue sweeps out, bathing itself in his musk. he shudders.

“and…how jealous i am, because other people are going to see how beautiful you are…when i just want to keep you for myself.”

ahh. there it is.

“to yourself? well you know i’m my own person, right?” you inquire, raising a brow.

“of course you are. but you’re mine, too.” he breathes, eyes darkening. “and there’s only so much i want anyone else to see of you.”

“so that’s why you said i looked better without makeup on? you’re cruel, you know.” you sigh, leaning back.

the lowly laugh that comes from your boyfriend makes your hair stand up on its ends. “you haven’t seen cruel yet, lisichka.”

you chew on your lip, challenging him, “hmm. i’m sure it’s not that bad.”

ajax’s resolve snaps, his large hand coming behind your head before gripping your hair.

“i’m sorry, you—“ he moans loudly, sliding himself fully to the back of your throat, “you look so fucking pretty i can’t help it. wanted to be between these pretty lips of yours so badly.”

his pained expression relaxes once he claims the inside of your mouth. small moans and whimpers leaving him once he starts rutting himself within the wet cavern.

you should be mad at how abruptly he’s slid his dick in your mouth, mad at the way he’s taken control, but the sight of him stops you. the pure look of ecstasy on his face is one to behold. so you grip his legs and let him have his way with you. let him use you as he pleases. you were never really in control anyways. he was just letting you have your fun.

“you feel so good. ‘is s’good…” he praises, snapping his hips at a harsher angle and speed. you gag around him and he only groans in response, legs trembling.

“always take me all so well, hmm?” his dull eyes look down at you with adoration, thumbing your cheek where his tip is nestled.

you nod to the best of your ability, humming quietly. there are tears brimming your eyes, and a few spill over, painting your cheeks with an inky residue.

something stirs within your boyfriend.

he pulls back, eyeing your face and now ruined makeup.

“ahh, i think you look even prettier now. you’ll forgive me for ruining your hard work, won’t you?”

you cough, catching your breath. “so shameful.”

ajax slaps his cock on your face, dragging the lipstick stained appendage over your face.

“aww, mila, don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.” his familiar sinister smirk is plastered on his face as he nudges your slobber covered lips.

solemnly, you part your mouth before taking him as far back in your throat as you can. another pretty moan leaves him before he swears in his mother tongue.

“you minx. if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re trying to kill me.” he falters, grasp tightening on your hair.

you moan around him, eyes rolling back as your nose digs into the tuff of hair on his lower abdomen. every part of him smells like home, like love and affection. like your soul, since you will always be apart of each other.

finally, ajax pulls back from you, and you don’t hesitate to take the next move. you waste no time taking him back into your mouth, this time using your hand to jerk the parts of him that don’t make it all the way in.

the noises are lewd and excruciatingly loud. drool and precum are basically painted and glistening on your chest, dripping down in between your breasts.

“good girl. good fucking girl…you always suck my cock so well. maybe i should…keep you locked up forever.” he praises.

“you can try.” you grin, leaning down to capture his balls in your mouth again, sucking and nursing them while your hand works his shaft.

he’s laughing now, tone bashful as he tries catching his breath, “i-i’m not going to last—“

you hum, pulling off and kissing his tip and swirling your tongue along the underside and frenulum. “go ahead, baby.”

your boyfriend gasps and then whines at the unexpected use of the pet name. it causes him to abruptly shoot his load sooner than he would have thought.

nothing could possibly have prepared you for how much ajax cums as it hits your face. your eyes squeeze shut, and every time you expect for him to be done, more spurts hit you.

his moans are unapologetically loud and fizz out into small groans as he fists himself.

eventually you crack your eyes open, glancing up at him as you suckle on his sensitive tip, lapping up any remnants of his cum.

the harbinger shudders, heaving as he looks at you. he’s never felt more glad to be right, the mess on your face spread all the way down to your chest.

it turns him on a little too much knowing he’s the only one who’d ever see you like this.

gently, he pushes you away, standing back from you.

“just know you can put whatever you want on your cute face, but you’ll never be any prettier than you are with my cum on it.” ajax breathes.

you hum appreciatively, blinking slow as you swipe up his cum and taste it. “you taste so good, ‘jax.”

a dark look swarms your boyfriend’s cerulean eyes. “it’s a shame, mila. i’m afraid you’re going to have to cancel your plans,” he grabs you like a ragdoll, tossing you back on your shared bed.

“wha—! what’re you—“

he grins before he licks your cum covered cheek, biting the flesh. “i’m not done having fun with you.”

end note: bro just licked up cum and foundation. i guess when you survive the abyss, you’ll eat anything /hj

[yanderecrazysie]

Quality Mountain Time (Yandere Jade Leech)

Vignette: Quality Mountain Time

Pairings: Jade Leech x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

“Are you the only applicant to the Mountain Lovers Club this year?” the man in front of you looks you over with sharp, mismatched eyes until you feel bare under his searching gaze.

“Um, yeah, I think so…” you squirm a little, uncomfortable with the way he stared so intently at you, “Sorry…”

The man smiles and you’re met with a row of needle-sharp teeth and a soft laugh. You’re beginning to regret your choice to join when the older student says, “You’re the first applicant to my club.”

“Really?” you were surprised. A club about hiking in the mountains would’ve been a hit where you came from. It was hard to believe that, in such a big school, you were the only other person to show interest.

“I’m Jade Leech, and you must be…” the man took a moment to look over your club application, his gloved hand resting on his bottom lip as he read your information, “...(Y/n)? Is that how you say it?” you nodded and he continued, “That's quite a beautiful name.”

“Thanks,” you replied bashfully.

Jade’s smile widened as he folded your application into a small square and tucked it away in his pocket. He held out his hand to you and you shook it, surprised by the firm gentleness of his grip. There was something about him, something unsettling yet oddly magnetic…

“If I may ask, what attracted you to my club?” Jade asked, his polite tone barely containing his excitement.

You laughed nervously, “I’ve always loved hiking and being in nature. It helps me clear my mind and relax.”

“Is that so?” Jade’s mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, “The mountains can indeed be very… relaxing. But they can also be very dangerous.”

You nodded, feeling a little uneasy, but you quickly brushed that feeling away, “I’m sure I’ll be in good hands with you as my guide.”

The words came out more flirtatious than you meant it to and Jade’s grin turned positively predatory, “Oh, you certainly will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

Before you could think to respond, he stepped closer to you. His presence seemed to take over the entire empty classroom. His hand moved to your shoulder and squeezed it lightly in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. 

“I must admit,” Jade’s voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in to speak into the shell of your ear, “I’m glad you’re the only applicant. It gives me the opportunity to pour my sole focus into you… to ensure you receive the best experience possible, of course.”

The way he said experience sent a chill down your spine. You couldn’t help but feel like there was more meaning to his words than he led on. Before you could worry about it too much, Jade stepped back, suddenly smiling calmly and casually at you, as though the moment of intensity had never happened.

“I will see you tomorrow on our first hike of the school year,” the smile on his face did not reach his eyes this time, “Make sure to dress warmly. The mountains can be… unpredictable.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Maybe you were crazy to stay in the club. Problem was, you weren’t the type of person to give up, and this was really the only club you had any interest in. Still, you recognized that there was potentially something wrong with your club leader and made sure to pack a can of pepper spray just in case.

When you arrived at the foot of the mountain, pack on your back filled with everything you thought you might need and more, you were surprised to find Jade waiting for you with just a small blue gym bag.

“You didn’t bring a lot of stuff,” you noted, pointing at the half-empty bag the older student held.

“I brought everything I need,” Jade said with a razor-edged smile. 

His words hung in the air and you looked at your stuffed backpack. Maybe you had overprepared, but it was strange… Jade kind of struck you as the type of person that would also overprepare.

“Shall we depart?” Jade asked, gesturing to the winding path that disappeared into the dense foliage that grew alongside the mountain trail.

“Y-yeah, let’s go,” you replied, adjusting your backpack and following him onto the path. The trail started off easy, not too steep and very smooth. The forest was quiet, except for the occasional bird song. 

Jade led the way, his strides long so that you had to pick up the pace to catch up, and purposeful, as though he had walked the path a million times before. As the hike continued, Jade began adding commentary to the nature that surrounded you both.

“That bird species is usually not around the mountain this time of year, aren’t we lucky to hear it now, (Y/n)?”

“That species of mushroom isn’t poisonous, but it’s becoming rarer, so we shouldn’t pick any of it.”

“That tree is probably at least a century old. And that’s young compared to the oldest trees recorded.”

After a while, the trail grew steeper and the trees became denser. The air was thicker and cooler, making it a little harder to breathe than before. You began to feel the strain in your legs and lungs, but Jade showed no signs of stopping. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself even more.

“Are you alright?” Jade asked, finally coming to a sudden halt and glancing over his shoulder at you with an almost mocking smile. You braced yourself against a tree and panted heavily. His sharp gaze seemed to be waiting for you to do something.

“I’m fine,” you said between small gasps, “I just need a moment.”

Jade nodded, his expression going blank and unreadable. He leaned against the nearest tree and watched you closely, his golden eye seeming to glow in the dim light. 

You couldn’t tell if he was concerned or if he enjoyed watching you struggle to breathe.

“You know,” Jade’s voice was so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it, “There’s something special about being up here, don’t you think? The isolation. The quiet. A world free of distractions.”

You nodded uncertainly, “Yeah, it’s pretty peaceful.”

“Peaceful… Yes…” Jade’s smile returned, much too wide and sharp to be normal, “It’s the perfect place to truly get to know someone.”

The way he said that made a shiver shoot down your spine. You shifted uncomfortably against the tree, painfully aware of how far away civilization was at this point.

“Let’s continue,” Jade said, pushing off the tree with languid grace. He held out his hand to you, that wide smile still on his face and his eyes lidded.

You didn’t take his hand and just nodded in response, avoiding his gaze as pushed off the tree on wobbly legs. The two of you continued the hike, but this time, you felt uneasy. Jade no longer offered narration on your surroundings, even when you passed more interesting-looking mushrooms. Realization hit you much further on.

He was leading you somewhere.

“Jade, are we still on the right trail?” you asked, forcing your nervousness down and out of your voice.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, not looking back at you, “I know this mountain like the back of my hand. You’re safe with me.”

You felt anything but safe anymore. The trees around you felt suffocating and the shadows seemed to close in on you. You gripped the straps of your backpack tighter and mentally noted where the can of pepper spray was hiding.

“I think I’ve had enough hiking for today,” you said, forcing a weak smile to your lips.

Jade turned back to stare at you, a flicker of something- disappointment or annoyance, you couldn’t tell- in his eyes. He tilted his head, looking you up and down for a moment, before he placed a hand over his heart and smiled convincingly at you.

“Are you sure? It would be a shame to turn back when we’ve come this far.”

You swallowed, “Yes, I’m sure. Maybe another time.”

That was a lie. You were never going on another hike with this creep ever again. He scared you way too much.

Jade’s smile dimmed for a moment, but he nodded and said in an ice-cold voice, “Very well, let’s head back.”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. As you turned to head back down the mountain, you could tell something had shifted in the atmosphere between you and him. He was behind you now and you could feel his mismatched eyes boring into the back of your skull.

And then, you felt it. A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist in a crushing grip. You froze, heart pounding as you slowly turned to face Jade.

His smile was gone, replaced by an expression of pure malice. His grip tightened even more and you let out a squeak of protest.

“I was hoping you would stay,” Jade murmured, looking almost hurt by your decision to leave early, “It’s rare for me to find a place in my heart for someone else.”

“Let go,” you demanded, reaching your hand back towards your backpack and feeling blindly for the pepper spray.

“Looking for this?” a lazy smile etched its way across Jade’s face as he held up the missing can, tilting it so that the nozzle faced your right eye. You froze in place, waiting for him to spray it directly into your eye.

Jade gave you a push backwards and you winced as your back hit a tree. He was quick to cage you in with his long arms.

“Don’t fight it,” Jade whispered, “We’re just getting started on our little hike. And there’s no one around to hear you scream.”

[kisses-for-you]

shot - e. buckley

evan buckley x gn!reader

summary: a visit to the 118 goes wrong when a grief-stricken man with a gun storms in.

w/c: 2.4k

⚠️ TW: gun, shooting

You made your way to the 118 firehouse, a container of cheesecake cradled in your arms. You'd baked it especially for them, making sure to save an extra slice for Chimney, who had raved about it last time.

As you stepped inside, Buck greeted you with his signature smile, his blue eyes lighting up as he noticed the dessert in your hands. "You really didn't have to," he said, pulling you into a hug. "I wanted to," you replied, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. "Besides, Chimney practically begged for more last time."

Buck laughed, taking the cheesecake from you and leading you upstairs to set it on the table where the rest of the crew was gathered. "You should stay awhile," he suggested. "At least until the next call." It didn't take much convincing. Spending time with Buck and his team always made you feel like you were part of something special - they were like a second family to you.

But the peaceful atmosphere didn't last.

About fifteen minutes later, a shout echoed from downstairs, shattering the mood. Everyone turned their heads toward the commotion, a collective unease settling over the group. Everyone exchanged wary glances before rising to investigate. As you all gathered at the top of the staircase, what you saw sent a cold chill down your spine. A man stood at the bottom, brandishing a gun, his voice trembling with rage and desperation. "You killed my wife!" he screamed, his face contorted in agony. "Now you're all going to pay!" The man's behavior sent a wave of fear through you as he ordered everyone downstairs.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you couldn't afford to panic. Slowly, you began descending the stairs with the others, taking note of the man's shaky hands, the sweat beading on his forehead, and the wild look in his eyes. You leaned toward Buck, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look at him closely, babe. He looks like he's under the influence of something."

Buck followed your gaze, his brows furrowing as he observed the man more closely. You continue, "His hands are trembling a lot, he's sweating excessively and his eyes look wide and panicked. That can't be normal." Buck nodded in agreement, whispering back, "You're right. If he really is under the influence, it makes this ten times more dangerous because he could be unpredictable. We need to be careful."

Before you could say anything else, the man's eyes snapped to you. "What are you whispering about?" he demanded. "N-nothing," you stuttered, hating how fear made your voice falter. "Better be," he growled, his eyes darting between you and Buck.

Buck gently put his hand on the small of your back, his touch bringing some comfort to you. ‌"It's okay, baby. We'll be fine," he tried to reassure you, but he didn't seem so certain himself.

Once you were downstairs, everyone spread out slightly, but Buck stayed close, his touch never leaving you. The man's breathing was erratic, and he was clearly unstable. You kept glancing at Buck, who kept his hand lightly on your back, a silent promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to you. "Stay calm," Buck whispered again, his voice low and controlled, even though you could feel his pulse quicken through the light pressure of his hand.

The man's gaze darted between the firefighters, paranoia swirling in his bloodshot eyes. His grip on the gun tightened, knuckles white against the metal. "You think I'm bluffing?" he growled, eyes wild. "You think I won't do it?"

‌Behind you, Eddie slowly moved to your right, his movements so subtle that you almost didn't notice. You could tell he was preparing for something, but you weren't sure what. ‌Chimney tried to reason with the man, "We're not the ones who hurt your wife, man. Let's talk about this, figure out what happened. There's no need for this to get worse."

‌The man's hand shook even more violently, the gun bobbing in the air. "Shut up! You don't know anything!"

Hen had positioned herself slightly to the left, closer to the phone. The man glanced away for a moment, his focus faltering. ‌But then, suddenly, he snapped back to you and Buck, eyes narrowing. "You two," he snarled, pointing the gun directly at you. "You were whispering. Come here."

Buck stepped forward in front of you, shielding you instinctively. "Leave her out of this. She's not the one you want," he said, his voice dangerously steady, but there was a tremor underneath that only you could hear. The man's eyes darted between the two of you, flickering with uncertainty. His breathing grew more erratic by the second. You knew Buck was ready to move if he had to, but the wrong move could end disastrously.

‌You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady as you started to speak, hoping to diffuse the situation as best as you could. "We don't want any trouble. Please, just put the gun down. We can talk this out, okay?"

‌The man wavered for a split second, his grip faltering. His eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you saw some uncertainty, or even hesitation. His grip on the gun loosened slightly, his stance wavering. You hoped this would de-escalate or else this would all spiral out of control.‌ "You don't have to do this," you said softly, keeping your hands where he could see them. "Whatever happened to your wife, it wasn't their fault. They're just here to help."

‌For a moment, the man looked confused at your words. He probably assumed you were also a firefighter but he seemed to realise that you weren't. Then, his face twisted in anger. "Help? You call letting her die helping?" His voice cracked, desperation leaking into his words. He looked over at the rest of the 118. "I trusted you guys. She trusted you!"

‌Eddie inched a little closer, but the man suddenly noticed the movement, snapping his attention back to Eddie. "Stop!" he yelled, pointing the gun wildly between all of you. "Stay where you are! I swear, I'll shoot!" ‌Eddie froze, hands up, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. Buck stepped closer to you again, his body tense, ready to move if needed. ‌"Listen," Buck said, his voice calm but firm. "We're sorry about what happened to your wife. But this isn't going to help. This isn't going to bring her back. Please, let's just talk."

‌The man's face contorted with pain, his eyes glossy, filled with unshed tears. His arm was trembling so badly that you feared he might pull the trigger by accident. His voice wavered, "I-I don't know what to do anymore..."

‌Hen, who'd managed to get a little closer to the phone, locked eyes with you. She signalled for you to keep him talking. The longer you stalled, the better chance you had of getting help. ‌Taking a breath, you spoke gently. "I can't imagine how much you're hurting. Losing someone like that... it's unbearable. But this isn't what your wife would want."

‌He lightly flinched at that, and you knew you'd struck something deep. Did you say the wrong thing? You hoped you hadn't or you could end up dead - or even worse, one of the 118. "You don't know what she'd want," he muttered, though the conviction in his voice was fading.

‌"I don't," you admitted. "But I can tell you loved her. And I know that if she was here right now, she'd want you to be safe. She wouldn't want you to throw your life away."

‌Tears slipped down his cheeks, and his hand shook violently, the gun lowering just slightly. But then, almost out of nowhere, a sharp ring pierced the air - the phone. ‌The man jumped, startled by the sound, and in his panic, his finger tightened on the trigger.

Bang!

Everything happened in a blur. You felt Buck pulling you to the ground as the shot rang out. There was shouting, movement all around, and you didn't even know where the bullet went. Your ears rang from the sound, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

‌When you finally managed to focus again, you saw Eddie and Bobby rushing toward the man, disarming him as he stumbled backward in shock. Hen and Chimney were already moving to check on everyone.

‌Buck looked down at you, still shielding you even though the danger had passed. Until he felt something. ‌Buck pulled away slightly, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the blood soaking through your shirt. "No, no, no..." he muttered, his hands trembling as he pressed down on your abdomen. You hadn't even realized you'd been hit, the shock of everything numbing the pain.

‌"Buck?" your voice came out weaker than you intended and the moment you heard it, the reality started to sink in. The bullet must have hit you. You tried to focus, but the pain was spreading, sharp and hot.

‌"Hey, stay with me," Buck said urgently, panic creeping into his voice. "You're gonna be okay. Chim! Hen!" His voice cracked as he called for help, but you could barely focus on him anymore. The world felt fuzzy at the edges, the sound of everyone around you starting to blur.

‌Chimney was beside you in an instant, his hands moving quickly to assess the wound. "Alright, we've got you," Chim said, his voice steadier than Buck's, but you could see the worry etched in his face. Hen was already rushing to grab supplies and Eddie tried to move Buck to the side but Buck refused to budge, his hand still pressed against the wound, his eyes locked on yours. "Stay with me, please," Buck whispered, his voice breaking. You could see the desperation in his eyes, his fear for you palpable.

‌Chimney spoke more urgently now. "Buck, you need to let us work. We need to stop the bleeding." ‌Buck hesitated, his grip tightening as if letting go of you would mean losing you, but finally, he stepped back, allowing Chimney to take over. Hen was back in seconds, placing pressure on the wound as Chimney worked quickly, his face calm but focused.

‌You felt Buck's hand grasp yours, his fingers trembling. "You're gonna be fine," he kept saying, over and over, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. But your body felt heavy, the pain sharp. ‌You tried to speak, to tell him you were okay, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, you just squeezed his hand weakly, hoping it was enough.

‌"Hang in there," Hen said as she prepared an IV, her hands moving swiftly. "We'll get you to the hospital soon."

‌Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The world around you was dimming, the edges of your vision going dark. You could hear the sirens in the distance, you knew help was coming but it felt so far away. Buck's voice was the only thing grounding you, the only thing keeping you from slipping away entirely.

‌"I love you," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper, the words laced with fear. "Please... don't leave me." ‌You tried to hold on to that, to his voice, to the warmth of his hand, but the pain was overwhelming. The last thing you saw before the darkness took over was your boyfriend's face, tear-streaked and terrified, as the world faded to black.

(TIMESKIP - the next day)

When you finally woke up, the harsh lights above blurred into focus. Your body felt heavy, your chest tight with pain. For a moment, everything was hazy, and you couldn't remember how you got there, but then it hit you like a truck. The gunman, the shot, Buck's terrified voice.

‌You blinked, your vision clearing just enough to see Buck sat beside you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. His hand was wrapped around yours, his grip so tight you wondered if he'd been holding it like that the whole time.

‌"Buck," you whispered, your voice weak. The simple act of speaking made your throat burn, but you needed to let him know you were here, okay - or at least alive. ‌"You're awake," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He sat up straighter, leaning closer to you. "Thank God, you're awake."

‌You managed a weak smile, though every movement felt like a huge effort. "Hey," you whisper, "It's okay, Buck. I'm okay."

‌Buck let out a breathy laugh, though it was laced with a kind of relief and disbelief. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I thought-" He swallowed hard, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought I was going to lose you."

‌Buck looked like he was barely holding it together. "Baby, your heart stopped. It-" he paused, his voice shaking. "But they brought you back. You're okay now. You're going to be okay." He said it like he's reassuring himself. ‌You glanced down at yourself, seeing the bandages across your abdomen. It hurt but the pain was nothing compared to the fear you had felt before everything went black.

‌"I was so scared," Buck continued, his voice breaking as he squeezed your hand again. "I couldn't do anything but watch you bleed, and I..." He trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to shake away the memory. "I don't know what I would've done if we lost you."

‌"Shh," you murmured, managing to lift your other hand weakly to touch his face. "I'm right here." ‌He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into your hand. "I love you," he whispered again, like he needed you to know, like you might forget if he doesn't say it enough. "You mean everything to me."

‌Tears stung your eyes, the overwhelming emotions mixing with the pain in your body. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered back. The words were weak, but they were all you could give him in that moment.

‌He smiled, though it was shaky, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. "Just rest, okay? The doctors said you're going to need time to heal."

‌You nodded slowly, exhaustion starting to pull at you again. The pain meds were dulling the ache in your body but your body was craving rest. As you closed your eyes again, Buck's hand stayed firmly in yours. He promised himself he would stay with you however long you needed him to.

911 masterlist

[writingfics-passingtime]

Desperate Measures

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 5703

Content / warnings: swearing, a lot of sexual tension, steamy kissing, suggestive humour, tickle fic, implied sex

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a romantic and intimate storyline between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: hello! I've come out of the woodwork to drop this random fic, thinking some of you may enjoy some wild sexual tension, teasing, and ruthless ler!loki I felt randomly compelled to write. I can't make any good-faith promises regarding future writing, so I'll just share this for now. All the love <3

The air in the gym was still and heavy, the only sound breaking the silence was the steady rhythm of your fists connecting with the punching bag. You were alone, intentionally so, using the late hour to work through a restless energy that had been gnawing at you for days.

Well, months, really.

There had been something about the Compound lately, something about him that made it hard to focus, hard to sleep.

The leather of the bag thudded under your punches, each strike sharp and measured as you practiced your form. But as effective as the session was at releasing some pent-up tension, you couldn’t ignore the nagging realisation that it wasn’t quite enough. And you didn't know what would be.

Then you heard him - felt him, really, before he spoke. Loki’s presence always announced itself in a subtle way. A shift in the air, a sense of something electric.

The low, velvety voice followed, as if materialising from the shadows. “This hardly seems like a fair fight.”

You froze for the briefest second, your fist still mid-air, before lowering your arm and turning to face him. There he stood, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed casually over his chest. He looked entirely too composed for someone who had just caught you off guard, but that was Loki’s way. His dark hair framed his sharp features, and his eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief. “Rather a waste of energy, fighting something that won’t hit back.” A pause, an assessment, a tilt of his head in challenge. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Your pulse quickens, though you’d never let it show. With Loki, you’d learned to keep your guard up. His constant presence, the lingering stares, the flirtatious banter - you still couldn't tell if it was all fun and games to him, or... if he actually...

“I’m practicing my form,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the warmth that was starting to spread up your neck.

He smirked, tilting his head as he regarded you with a dark glint in his eye. “If it’s form you’re after, perhaps a real opponent would better suit your needs. I’d be happy to assist.” The words hung in the air between you, their weight heavy with invitation.

You hesitated, your heart suddenly pounding for an entirely different reason. Sparring with Loki? Not smart. The man - the god - was unpredictable, dangerous. You weren’t an idiot; in the field, you’d leave threats like Loki to the bigger guns like Steve, or Thor. But here, in the controlled environment of the gym, with no weapons and only the hum of underlying tension between you two, it felt different.

Risky in a way that had nothing to do with physical harm.

Still, you felt a thrill shoot through you at the thought. Something about his attention always made you feel alive, a little reckless.

You wiped the sweat from your brow and tilted your head. “Not sure this is a smart idea, Loki. I usually leave the big threats to the super soldiers and gods.”

His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “You’ll do just fine.” His tone was smooth, almost coaxing, as if you’d already agreed.

You rolled your eyes, turning toward the mats, feeling his presence at your back as he followed you. You were trying your best to seem unaffected, but his proximity set your skin alight.

Every step toward the sunken sparring area in the centre of the gym felt like a countdown. When you stepped down the couple of stairs onto the mats, you turned to face him, only to find him much closer than you expected. His height, the way he loomed just slightly, was intoxicating. He was so unfairly beautiful. And he knew it.

You gave him a look, a mix of challenge and uncertainty, trying to hide how affected you were. But Loki noticed everything. His eyes flicked briefly to your lips before settling back on your gaze.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice coming out a bit more breathless than you intended.

“Now,” Loki began, circling you slowly, his movements graceful, predatory, “we see what you’re truly made of.”

You squared your shoulders, keeping your stance neutral, trying to maintain your focus. But the energy between you felt charged, almost too much to ignore. Loki was testing you, as he always did - pushing buttons, seeing how far he could go before your unaffected facade slipped. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of showing how much he got under your skin. But, deep down, you knew that you weren't fooling him.

After one revolution around your body, he stopped in front of you, that smirk still playing on his lips. You didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You lunged forward, aiming a strike toward his midsection, but he dodged it easily, too fast, too graceful. He didn’t retaliate. Not yet. He was baiting you, letting you come to him. Typical.

Your next punch was aimed higher, toward his chest, but he caught your wrist mid-air. His grip was firm, but not painful, his skin cool against yours. He raised an eyebrow, almost amused.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he murmured.

You twisted out of his hold, stepping back to reassess. Your heart was racing, not just from the sparring, but from the feel of him, his hand, his eyes locked on yours like a predator toying with its prey. There was something dangerous in the way he moved, something inherently sensual in the way his body seemed to flow, effortless yet lethal.

You tried again, going low this time, aiming a sweeping kick toward his legs. He sidestepped, but not fast enough. You caught him just enough to throw him slightly off balance, and his smile widened. You could've sworn a gleam of admiration flickered in his eyes.

“Not bad,” he said, before moving on you.

Suddenly, he was in your pocket, faster than you anticipated, and before you could block, he had you pinned. One arm locked around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the other catching your wrist, holding it firmly above your head. He hooked one leg around yours and controlled the descent of your bodies. Your back hit the mats with a soft thud, him directly above you, and you gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. Not fully from the impact, more from the overwhelming sensation of his body pressing against yours.

For a moment, everything stilled. You were trapped beneath him, and he was so close, his breath warm against your neck, his body hovering over yours, just a breath away from full contact. The weight of him, the way he held you so effortlessly, sent a rush of heat through you.

Loki’s eyes bored into yours, dark and intense, and there was no mistaking the shift in the air. The playfulness was still there, but underneath it was something deeper, something charged with heat and anticipation.

“Still think this was a bad idea?” His voice was a low purr, his lips dangerously close.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, his thumb brushing the inside of it in lazy circles, a deliberate tease. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped beneath his touch, trying not to wonder if he could hear it. Feel it.

He lowered his brow, “You clearly haven’t been trained by anyone outside of Midgard.”

His words pricked at your pride, and you glared up at him, breathless, as you tried to wrench your wrist free. “Of course not,” you retorted, a bit sharper than you’d intended. “Not all of us have had the privilege of an intergalactic education.”

His expression softened for just a heartbeat, a glimmer of something that might've almost be concern, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a look of pragmatism. “That won’t do,” he said simply, releasing you, pulling you to your feet with an ease of strength that made your heart stutter.

“There are… larger threats than you’ve known. You need to understand how they fight.” His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Or you won't stand a chance."

You swallowed thickly, the implication heavy between you, and found yourself unable to look away, captivated by the intensity in his eyes, the subtle promise that lingered just beneath his calm disposition.

In his own strange way, he was offering to train you.

In that moment, it felt like the tension, the unspoken attraction that had been building between you over the months, was ready to snap. The rational part of you is screaming that this was dangerous, that whatever this was, it was a risk you shouldn’t take; putting yourself in the situation to be in constant close quarters with someone who already set you on a steep edge could only end in a heart-wrenching longing.

But as you met Loki’s gaze, defiance and something far more potent flared within you, and you couldn't deny the pull.

“Show me, then,” you whispered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded furiously in your chest.

He smirked, a dark satisfaction flickering across his face as he stepped closer still. “Very well,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The gym was empty, as it usually was this time of night, save for the low hum of your breathing and the solid thud of your body against the mats, the result of another frustrating sparring session with Loki.

It had been weeks of this. A rhythm that’d somehow become normal, sparring sessions where you were pushed to your limits and left feeling exhausted but invigorated.

Loki’s method of training was relentless, unforgiving, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The techniques he taught you - sharp, brutal movements, counters that defy human logic - had already sharpened your skills in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

He was maddening and insufferable, with his mocking commentary and easy confidence, but he had made you better.

You would flush to admit how much you looked forward to the few sessions each week. Because though you had trained with all kinds of opponents, none of them compared to the dark, infuriating figure currently pinning you to the ground.

He loomed above you, his body pressed just enough against yours to keep you in place, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin making the friction of his hold electric. You were breathless, chest rising and falling as you stared up at him, face inches from his as he flashed that knowing grin.

Unfortunately, this had become a very normal position to find yourself in. Loki never let you win, and never let you up without an admission of defeat, saying allowing such things would only breed complacence.

“Ready to surrender, darling?” His voice was dark silk, the smugness woven through every syllable. His eyes traveled over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, your parted lips as you caught your breath. “Again? What are we, zero-and-thirty?”

The mix of arrogance and barely-contained amusement in his expression made your irritation bubble over.

"Go to hell."

"Charming," he replied, arching a brow. "By all means, keep on with your futile attempts to escape," he shrugged with indifference, further stoking your frustration. "I do so enjoy this part."

Your jaw ticked. You were tired, flustered, not any more used to his proximity even after weeks of this. You thought you'd be desensitised to his flirting, his touch... him, but, if anything, it was all pulling you closer to the edge of desperation.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

At least, that's what you told yourself. In reality, you weren't thinking. You couldn't have been thinking, given that no one in your position would've considered such a foolish move.

In a final, desperate move, a slapdash attempt to get him off of you without having to surrender, your fingers darted to his sides, pressing into his ribs in a way that might, with any luck, give him a taste of his own teasing medicine.

But the instant your fingers touched him, and he merely flinched once, you knew you'd made a careless mistake, and a devastating one at that.

This was something you could never take back.

He stilled, a dark chuckle slipping from his lips. His gaze slowly shifted down to where your hands rested on his torso, and when he looked back up, the mischievous gleam in his eyes turned predatory.

“Oh?" His voice dropping to a dangerously low, delicious murmur, “You’ve just made an exceptionally poor choice.”

Your stomach dropped, and a tsunami of regret hitting you instantly. “Wait. Loki, I didn’t-”

“You want to play, hmm?” His smirk only widened as he leaned in, his grip tightening. “How delightful. Do carry on.”

“Please, I'm sorry,” you gasped, trying to push at his chest, already breathless. “I wasn't thinking- Loki, please!” You could feel your cheeks growing warm, laughter bubbling up as he held you firm. "I'm sorry!"

“Shh,” he crooned, his smirk deepening. “No need to waste your precious breath.”

"Oh no, please, not this," you laughed despite your wincing, pushing harder at his shoulders. It did nothing.

“Begging already?” His fingers found your sides, pinning them as his thumbs pressed firmly into the sensitive skin above your hips. “You might regret that even more, darling.”

Before you could protest, his fingers began to move, an unrelenting, devastating rhythm that sent a jolt of sensation through your body. Your attempts to fight it crumbled instantly as laughter spilled from your lips, your hands still trying, and failing, to push his away.

“Loki! N-no-” you gasped between giggles, squirming beneath him as his fingers worked with merciless precision. He watched you with keen fascination, clearly enjoying the effects of his touch on you far too much. His thumbs traced slow, calculated circles against your ribs, each movement skilled and targeted, attuning his touch at a terrifying speed. Learning how to deliver a masterful torture, designed just for you.

“Oh, I think yes,” he replied, his voice a teasing purr. “And to think, all it takes to make you crumble is a little tickling. How... adorably human.” His words were as wicked as his touch, his fingers finding every sensitive spot along your ribs, raking over your skin with a tormenting ease.

Your laughter only grew, helpless and unbidden, your body writhing beneath him as you tried to twist away from his relentless fingers. But the press of his body against yours, the heat of his breath, and the smirk on his lips were driving you to the edge in more ways than one.

“You know,” he continued, one hand slipping higher along your ribs, while the other skated down your side in search of a new vulnerable spot, “you really should have thought this through.” He watched as you struggled to speak, your protests dissolving into helpless laughter as pinched the soft spot above your hip in a steady rhythm. “But I suppose thinking things through isn’t exactly your strong suit, is it?”

Another fit of giggles burst from you, the words “Shut up- Loki, I swear-” managing to slip through the laughter before his searching hand found an especially sensitive spot just above your knee. Your leg jerked, and you could barely contain the yelp that escaped you.

“Oh, now that's a good spot, isn't it?” he mused, his smirk widening as he kept his fingers there, watching with satisfaction as you writhed in his grip. His thumb and middle finger cratered into your skin, moving in small, unrelenting circles against the muscle, each pass drawing a louder, more desperate laugh from you.

Every time your laughter began to steady, Loki would adjust, finding fresh angles to torment that same spot, leaving you gasping and breathless, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. The sound of his satisfied chuckle only made the entire ordeal more maddening, his smirk widening with every helpless laugh he drew from you.

The muscles of your core ached, already weakened from the near hour of sparring you'd endured before this ordeal, and your desperation mounted as you realised just how completely you were at his mercy.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, his voice mockingly sympathetic. “All those threats you make, all those fighting words... yet-"

The door to the gym opened suddenly, and two figures stepped inside. Loki didn’t miss a beat, glancing up to find Steve and Bucky standing there, their faces caught between surprise and amusement at the scene before them. Loki merely grinned, unperturbed, as though they were expected guests.

“Ah, gentlemen, so kind of you to join us.” His fingers didn't stop, not even for a moment. Your breath hitched between laughs. “She’s been begging for mercy. Tell me, don’t you train your people to withstand a bit of torture?”

“Steve!” you gasped, trying and failing to sit up as Loki’s fingers dug into your ribs with a terrifying precision. The hand at your knee gave a quick pulse and you shrieked, giving a violent kick of your leg that somehow dislodged his hand. “Bucky- help!”

The two men exchanged a look, an unmistakable smirk crossing their faces as they watched you squirm beneath Loki’s touch, now at both of your sides.

Steve folded his arms, tilting his head as if considering your plea. “Seems like you've bitten off more than you can chew,” he said, lips quirking up in amusement.

“You're gonna have to get yourself out of this one,” Bucky added with smirk.

"Please!" You squeaked when Loki wrapped his hands around your hips once more, squeezing and pressing as you plead through helpless giggles. "I-I'll do anything- just- j-just help me, please!"

“Anything?” Loki murmurs, his voice low and smooth as he leans down, stilling his hands just long enough for you to catch your breath. “My, my, this sounds like quite the liability. Is this all it takes to break you?” His fingers latched onto both of your knees with renewed vigour, eliciting a shriek and then a fresh burst of laughter.

You were too far gone to respond, tears gathering in your eyes as you twisted under his touch, utterly powerless to escape. His words, his steady, relentless taunts, were maddening, each one sinking in deeper as his fingers found every vulnerable place that left you laughing helplessly beneath him.

Your cheeks burned as you tried to wriggle away from his fingers, laughter turning desperate as his hands traced the sensitive muscles along your thighs. “L-Loki, please—”

Loki casted a glance at Steve and Bucky, his voice dropping to a lower, more mocking tone. “Her training is sorely lacking. She's reckless, susceptible…" he looked back down to you with a sly grin, "and seems to lack any sense of risk analysis. Taking me on, indeed.”

You were incredulous - as much as you could be in your position - and you tried to protest, tried to tell them that it was Loki’s idea to spar in the first place, but the words won’t come. Loki’s hands had you too helpless, laughter spilling from your lips as he smirked down at you with an expression of pure satisfaction.

Bucky shrugged, grinning as he watched your futile struggle. “Maybe we need to work on conditioning that out of her.”

“Oh, no,” Loki interjected smoothly, slipping his hands to the juncture of your hips and thighs, sending you arching off the mat, squeals of laughter tearing from your throat. "I rather like her this way."

Desperation drove you to try to reach for Steve or Bucky, your arm outstretched in a silent plea for mercy.

You should have learned your lesson about desperate moves.

Loki saw the opportunity in your attempt, and with a smooth, precise move, he twisted you onto your stomach, pinning your outstretched wrist to the mat as he settled over you, his other hand slipping to your lower ribs to press into a spot he'd already memorised, one that made you shriek.

“Really, darling,” he whispered darkly, his voice rich with satisfaction, “your judgment is appallingly poor, isn’t it?” His fingers glided higher, hitting a spot on your upper ribs that made your laughter turn silent, breath hitching as you struggled under him.

“You handed me this opening,” he tutted, his taunting words making you burn hotter. “What happens next is your fault.” His fingers found the sensitive spot beneath your arm, drawing out a fresh wave of laughter as your body arched, your feet scrabbling for traction as you slapped your free hand against the mat.

Hard laughter barrelled out of you, your head falling to the mat as you squeezed your eyes shut, succumbing to the sensations he was pulling from your nerves.

Surrender washed over you, cool and easy, as you felt your muscles go limp beneath him, nothing in your mind but the feeling of his body, his hands, the force of your laughter, and the pure, unadulterated fun he was having with you. And it was fun, you realised. In a way that people like you usually didn't indulge in.

Bucky tapped Steve on the arm and jerked his chin towards the door behind them. "Seem like you have this under control," he smirked at you. You looked up to glare but only caught their knowing glance, the one of friends and not of Avengers. The one that said, we know exactly what's going on here.

It made you flush almost as much as the unrelenting torture.

Almost as soon as they left you, Loki's tickling hand pulled away. You gulped greedy breaths in as he turned your sagging body with ease, settling you on your back as he hovered over you, eyes roaming the product of his work.

"I trust you've learned your lesson." His voice was a low rumble that sent heat pooling to your belly. All you could do was nod. "Next time you dare to pull a stunt like that," he started, leaning in so close you could feel his breath fanning your lips, "I won't be so gentle."

Heat bloomed over your cheeks, to the tips of your ears, the space between you charged, crackling with an intensity that sends a thrill through you.

You couldn't look away, your breath catching as his gaze lingered on your lips.

His own parted, as though he was on the verge of closing the distance...

He flinched.

Pulled back. Pulled away.

Your brow lowered in concern, but before you could ask what was wrong, he stood.

"Until next time."

He looked down at you, his eyes lingering with a promise that made your pulse pound, before he turned and strode out of the gym, leaving you sprawled on the mat, breathless, wanting, and hopelessly, maddeningly confused.

It was late that same night when you finally worked up the nerve to confront him.

You moved through the silent halls of the Compound, each step echoing in the darkened corridors as you slipped past the shadows pooling in doorways. Uncertainty crept up your spine, and you almost turned back more than once, only to grit your teeth and push forward. There were too many things left unsaid, too much tension thickening the air between you and Loki, and it gnawed at you now, refusing to let you retreat.

Before you could decide on a way to begin, his door opened. He stood there, almost as if he’d sensed you coming, his expression a mix of curiosity and that ever-present amusement.

“It's rather late for a visit,” he said, his tone low, his words quiet and full of question.

You met his gaze. “Couldn't sleep,” you replied, massaging the back of your neck with one hand.

His lips twitched with something darker, though his tone remained light. “And you thought I could help?”

Silence stretched between you, and for a moment, you wondered if this was a mistake.

"I thought you might be able to, considering it's your fault."

His face softened at the strain in your tone, and he stepped aside in a silent invitation for you to enter.

Swallowing hard, you stepped forward, pressing past him and into his room. He shut the door behind you, and the world seemed to fall away, the dimness settling around you, cocooning you both in a place of shadow and warmth.

"Go on then," Loki urged as you two stood near the lounge set in his room. A couple of armchairs and a matching couch, cast in the soft glow of several lamps and a dying fire in the hearth.

You drew a deep breath, forcing yourself to speak. “I know what you are, Loki,” you began, feeling your voice tremble with both fear and resolve. “Mischief is part of your very nature, and I don't mind fun and games like- like earlier," you flushed thinking about it, catching the smirk forming on his features as he watched you fumble.

You gathered your courage and stared him straight-on. "But not with my feelings. All this- this flirting, and touching, and closeness... it's not a game to me. So if it doesn't mean anything to you, I'd rather it stop."

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, the smugness vanishing, replaced by something harder, sharper. He let the words hang between you, a silence stretching before he repeated them in a voice almost too soft to hear. “If it doesn't mean anything to me,” he murmured, a subtle, dangerous edge to his tone. "You think this- that you are simply a game? Another amusement of no consequence?"

You swallowed, willing yourself to continue. “Today…” Your voice broke slightly, and you pushed the words out. “In the gym, we were so close. I thought...” Heat flooded your cheeks, but you forced yourself on, the confession slipping free. “For the dozenth time, I thought you were finally going to kiss me. But I just left wondering if I'm a fool with some silly schoolgirl crush, way in over my head." The admission left you raw and breathless, your heart pounding.

He exhaled, the smallest hint of a rueful smile ghosting over his lips. "You were trapped beneath me. Pinned, helpless,” he said, as though it explained everything. “I could never take that liberty with you while you were at my mercy.” His gaze grew darker still, something haunted flickering in his eyes. “I’d never forgive myself if I gave in to such an impulse. I'd never stop wondering if you had truly wanted it."

"But I did want-"

"And what if you hadn't?"

His words were a balm and a brand, his unwavering gaze rooting you to the spot.

"I had to know it was real. Not something forced or coerced, something... taken from you when you were too breathless to say no. I had to know for sure that it was what you desired."

For a moment, you struggled to find your voice, the weight of his reverence filling the space between you.

“It is,” you managed, each word trembling with the strength of your resolve. “I want this. I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. I don’t want to ignore it anymore.” You swallowed, breathless.

A beat passed, and something changed in his face - a tension releasing, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t expected.

Slowly, he extended his hand, his fingers unfurling in a silent invitation.

You slipped you palm into his, letting him pull you toward him, his touch both a promise and a tether.

He guided you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, tracing the lines of your shoulders, until they rested firmly on your waist. Then, with a gentle insistence, he drew you toward an armchair, lowering himself into it and coaxing you down to settle over his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs.

His hand rose, tilting your chin so that you were forced to look into his eyes. They held an intensity that bordered on unrelenting, darkened by desire and the hint of something raw, something that took your breath away. He watched you intently, his expression filled with something just shy of reverence. His thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw, tilting your face toward him as his fingers trailed along your neck, igniting every nerve.

You shivered as he leaned in, so close that his breath fanned across your lips. His touch was calm and certain, his gaze flicking over you as if committing every part of you to memory.

“I’ve waited for this,” he whispered, voice low and heated. “For you.”

The weight of his words pressed against the heavy silence between you, and before you could answer, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and consuming.

He guided you with a gentle but undeniable command, his mouth pressing deeper, each kiss drawn out, languid, until it felt like he was unraveling you with every deliberate stroke of his lips against yours.

The world blurred, and you melted into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he lured a soft gasp from your lips. His hand slid to the back of your neck, steadying you, keeping you close as he took his time, tasting you, his lips teasing yours until you forgot to breathe.

When you moved to meet his kiss more eagerly, he slowed you, a faint smirk in the curve of his lips as he deepened the kiss with a patience that made your stomach twist. He was savouring this, savouring you, and the way he kissed you - deliberate, knowing - made your entire body ache with need.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, lingering as his other hand settled firmly at your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping away.

Your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair as he angled your face, holding you exactly where he wanted. When his tongue brushed lightly over your lower lip, you let out a soft, involuntary sound, and his hand tightened against your waist, holding you to him.

Loki’s mouth moved over yours with a control that made you shiver, each kiss deliberate, and the quiet dominance in his touch sent warmth pooling through you. With every gentle press of his lips, every slow, teasing stroke, he seduced you, guided you, igniting something deep and undeniable that had simmered for too long. Your heart beat heavily against your ribs, and as you gasped softly, his mouth trailed along your jaw, his lips barely brushing over your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze was dark, his expression full of barely-contained intensity.

A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his thumb along your lower lip, the teasing glint returning to his gaze. “Well, look at you,” he soothed, voice rich with quiet amusement. “I half-expected you to come tearing through that door, seeking vengeance for how thoroughly I put you in your place earlier.”

Heat pooled in your face, and you fought to keep your composure, though it was a losing battle. “I’d have been fine if you hadn’t-”

“-handled you so effectively?” he interrupted with an infuriating grin, each syllable soft and mocking. “Don’t worry. I rather enjoyed it myself.”

His thumb still lingered on your flushed lips, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief but something darker, something that felt like an invitation. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and heated, and the words sent a thrill down your spine.

The invitation hung between you, heavy and dark, the desire in his gaze nearly tangible. Your breath hitched, your heart racing at the thought of losing yourself completely in him, of surrendering to this quiet storm between you.

“That depends,” you managed, barely able to steady your voice. “Are you planning to repeat what happened earlier?”

He chuckled, his fingers tightening on your waist as his eyes glittered with amusement. “Only if you ask very, very nicely.”

A thrill shot through you as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours with a dark, velvet whisper. “That certainly won't be the last time we play like that. Tonight, however... I have other ideas for what to do with you." His fingers trailed up your spine, making you shiver.

Gods help you. He was going to be your undoing.

"I thought I'd take my time, learning you. Slowly. Thoroughly. Every little detail, every sweet noise you can make." His lips skated across the pulse point in your neck. "Would you like that, darling?"

"Yes." You had barely whispered your reply before his lips were on yours again, his mouth moving over yours with a slow, consuming fervour that left no room for questions, no room for anything except the feeling of him, his warmth, his presence, the gentle yet undeniable control in every touch. His fingers threaded through your hair, his hand steadying you as he deepened the kiss, guiding you with a restraint that made you shiver.

You melted into him, your breaths mingling as his hands drifted, his touch both firm and soft, and when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“This is not a game,” he whispered, a promise in his tone, his thumb tracing light patterns along your neck. His expression was sincere, edged with both longing and restraint. “You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

The words were a quiet echo, a reassurance that grounded you both. A chill of reverence passed between you, something thrilling, something impossibly tender. You met his gaze, nodding as your fingers traced the line of his jaw. “You too. No pressure, no expectations,” you whispered back, meaning it, and he smiled, a soft, endearing smile that made your heart ache.

And then he guided you back into his arms, every movement slow and deliberate as he kissed you once more, drawing you into a dance that would last until dawn.

[rocketbirdie]

YOU. You are correct about Cloud Strife. Everything you say about him is CORRECT

Hi I'm going to use your ask as an opportunity to go on an unhinged tangent about him below the cut.

I believe that EVERYTHING about Cloud Strife as a character makes total sense once you realize: it's autism.

Here's a character whose entire arc revolves around the erosion of his identity and his desperate attempts to adhere to an ideal image, at the expense of his own wellbeing; and how self acceptance is the thing that brings him back from the edge of despair.

Youtube theorycrafters waste hours of their lives trying to piece together Cloud's psyche, when the answer is just... autism. It really is that simple. I will die on this goddamn hill.

In Trace of Two Pasts, we learn that even as a toddler, Cloud really was just... like that. Unemotive and awkward. And the entire lifestream sequence in the OG shows us a young Cloud who behaves in baffling ways. Tifa and her friends invited Cloud into their group, but he rejected their friendship while simultaneously harboring a seething jealousy. How the heck does that work, huh?

Viewing this through the Autism Lens™️, his approach make way more sense. Fearing his own inability to read and reciprocate their intentions, he pushes them away, and the resulting loneliness crushes him. He mistakes that loneliness for anger. He turns that anger outwards and gets into fights. Because the other kids don't understand him, Cloud sees them as stupid and immature. It's the perfect recipe for disastrous distrust. The tragic result is that, when Tifa gets into her accident, Cloud is immediately blamed by kids AND adults. He's seen as inherently dangerous and unpredictable, even though he did nothing wrong. It's like they were already looking for the perfect excuse to hate him.

The worst part is, because he struggles to articulate his own thoughts and feelings, he starts to just... accept what other people say about him. He's a pain in the ass. He's a selfish brat. He could try being a bit nicer. Any attempt that he makes to argue, backfires and proves their points even more. He's being childish. He needs to get his shit together. Nothing's ever good enough for him. He stops fighting it and lets people drag him around and violate his boundaries, because no matter how loud he yells or how intelligently he argues, nothing he says ever reaches their ears. He trims away more and more of himself to try and appease others and nurse the constant emotional pain. (And that's not even addressing the entire traumatic *waves hands* everything that he's gone through by the time he reaches Midgar! That would have to be its own tangent lol.)

It's hard to watch as a player; the secondhand embarrassment of Cloud's social blunders is immense. Some people don't like Cloud as a video game protagonist, which is perfectly valid. But a lot of times, they justify their opinion by perpetuating the same damaging language. He's an asshole, he's a weirdo, he hates people. The irony would be hilarious if it wasn't so frustrating. I know Cloud is just a fictional character, he doesn't need to be defended from harsh criticisms. But I can't help but wonder what these players think about the "weird people-hating assholes" that they meet in real life.

It also makes me wonder if they were even paying attention. I think the games make it pretty damn obvious what's going on. He's an asshole because other characters treat him like one before they even get to know him. He hates people because he doesn't understand them, and they don't even try to understand him. He's a weirdo because he has a strange way of showing how deeply he loves and cares, and he's afraid that his love will be misinterpreted like every other emotion he's ever dared to show.

The autism is everywhere. It permeates his entire being. It's in his silly responses when he takes things too literally. It's in his painfully practical way with words. It's in the stiff expressionless look and the flat tone of voice. It's in him constantly adjusting his gloves, shifting his weight, looking down at his feet. It's in his questionable idea of what you're supposed to do with your body at a yoga session. It's in the half a dozen flustered high fives, it's in the motion sickness. It's in the contagious eagerness with his special interests in SOLDIER and materia and chocobos.

It's in the moments where the facade crumbles and we get to see the real Cloud, the one that Aerith knew was in there— the one that Tifa finds in the lifestream— the one that Zack gave his life for— the Cloud that cherishes the whole world. He's got so much of everything inside of his heart, and he doesn't know how to get it out. You'd be a weird asshole about it, too.