Call Of Duty Masterlist

under the red hood

jason todd as an ex is... insufferable. not to you, no, even seperated he dare not pose as a nuisance.

for whatever reason the break up happened, and as much as he blamed it on you when you left, stood his ground and watched you go, he always blamed himself. but of course, he couldn't gather that courage to speak, to beg you to come back— to make things alright.

because it hurt to see you not look at him with stars in your eyes when you crack a joke. it hurts not to be the reason you laugh or smile or feel giddy with love. it fucking hurts to see someone else giving you their jacket— someone else holding you.

as much as he claimed to have been moved on, scoffing "it didn't matter to him". it did matter to him, it mattered to him so much he lingered.

he lingered at a distance when you were out with someone else, oh he was just making sure you were fine, he's just being a good human— a good vigilante making sure the people are alright. he lingered even when you were fast asleep, peering into your bedroom through the window from the terrace of the opposite buiding. or if you were a vigilante too, he lingered in the sidelines of a mission you clearly had under control.

he lingered like the ghost of your past, like the shadows— like he's a part of you.

he smiled unknowingly when you laughed, looked your way when he passed a witty comment to see if you laughed like you usually did, if you didn't, it would wilt his sad little heart. everyone noticed the onslaught of jokes and sarcastic comments when you were present, side eyeing him. at first everyone was simply amused, they teased him endlessly— but then when days turned to months, and months turned to a year, the amusement morphed into pity. pity because it killed them to see such obvious yearning, so much so that it gave them a damn migraine.

but jason thought he could take it, he could still get over you. getting over isn't that hard, he's done it before. its just taking a little more time with you.

he thought he was content by just watching you live, the ache was lessened by your smile.

oh but he's a selfish bastard. fuck the noble act.

his brow twitched and a vein popped on his forehead when he watched another person look at you the way he did, hold your hands for way too long— that vein almost burst when he tucked back a lock of your hair.

and suddenly his mind is clear, clearer than it ever had been. what use is this pride, this useless ego, if he doesn't have you in his life? what use are these arms if not to hold you? what use are his eyes if not to adore you? what use is this stupid heart of his if not to belong to you?

he couldn't take it anymore.

so you should have expected it to be honest, when you entered your lonely apartment only to be scared out of your wits at the sight of your ex lounging on the couch with his legs spread and head cocked to a side, staring at you menacingly.

"enjoyed your little date, sweetheart?"

you should have expected it when he cornered you, taunting that sorry excuse of a man— and your lack of taste.

"that desperate to forget me, hm?"

you should have expected the surge of butterflies wrecking chaos in you, heat searing your body. so you retaliate, your words even more sharp and cutting. you shoved him back, digging your boundaries against him, shielding yourself.

and its like the poor man lost all his sass and wits in a second, he sputtered, at a loss for words. scared, scared that he's messing up again.

he mumbled a quiet, defeated "sorry." and you thought he'd leave. so you did not expect his lips on yours the next second. each kiss, each touch were accompanied with an apology. he worshipped and repented at the same time.

so you really should have expected to see him in your bed next morning, body tangled with yours, sleeping so deeply as if he hadn't in a long time.

you sighed before a triumphant smile came on your lips as you kissed his forehead, proud that your little plan worked.

you had expected it all.

NOTE: i had wanted to write pure angst but my need for a happy ending prevailed unfortunately

Say You Love Me

Pairing: Xiao x gn!reader

Word Count: 1413

Genre: Angsty drabble, Hurt to comfort

Warnings: Idk it's just angsty & negative at first but it gets better near the end

Posted: 19.O6.2O21

Inspired By: TXT – 0X1 = LOVESONG (yes because many parts of the lyrics remind me of Xiao)

Summary: It's one of those days again, where the violent peaks in the adeptus' karma become too much to bear on his own. In his moment of despair, he finds himself calling out your name.

Note: Xiao's backstory broke my heart and it still didn't heal 💔. I know he's merely fictional, but he deserves the whole entire world and I wish I could end his suffering and make him happy 🤧

You didn't know why, you didn't know how. You were simply enjoying a cup of black tea in your favorite teahouse in Liyue Harbor when a hand of cold steel had taken a hold of your heart, and you knew something was wrong. 

Without even so much as a fragment of hesitation, you left some mora on your table near the window and abandoned your barely-touched tea as you exited the place in a rush of restless concern. There wasn't much rational thinking going on in your mind, mostly because your thoughts were blank and it was merely your instincts that told you it wasn't right.

There was just one coherent word perpetually repeated in your slightly confused yet worried mind; Xiao. 

Your feet had a will of their own as they brought you through the streets of the port city, it was as if your body knew exactly where to go and what to do while your mind didn't quite follow yet. All you had was a feeling, a seed of distress that had settled in your gut stubbornly and directed you to what was hopefully the right place. You were quite certain it had something to do with your beloved adeptus, and the more you grasped onto that thought, the more you started to realize what could possibly be wrong. 

You had to hurry. 

By now you were running, leaving the streets of Liyue Harbor behind and venturing into the wilderness surrounding the city. Maybe it was your imagination that was clouded with worry, but it was as if a magnetic force was pulling you into a certain direction and you could only hope it was correct. You would never forgive yourself if it wasn't, if your feeling guided you to the wrong place, if you wouldn't be able to find and help Xiao, if you –

No, you weren't going to be too late. 

Your lungs were burning at this point, every inch of your body begging you to stop. Not yet, not yet, you pleaded to yourself. You were close, Xiao was near you and you could feel it in your entire being. It started to come together now that you found yourself in the vicinity of the old run-down shrine not too far from the harbor. 

     "Y/N," echoed over the plains weakly, and your heartbeat stilled for a moment as the voice reached your ears, familiar and – regretfully –  evenly familiarly strained. 

You ran, making a dire call on the last remnants of your stamina to push through in order to reach your deeply troubled lover. You had yet to understand why you always seemed to sense Xiao's suffering, but it had often brought you to him when he needed you the most and you were incredibly grateful for the, let's say, sixth sense you had. 

     "Xiao!" you called, ultimately spotting the male hunched over on the ground in the old shrine, barely able to sit up against the forgotten statue of a fallen adeptus. His jade spear was a few feet away from him, covered in dust and shards of stone. 

Your heart wrenched in pain at the sight, and you wasted no time to approach him and crouch down on the rough soil right by his side, barely noticing the debris scraping your knees. His eyes were shut tightly as you took him in your arms, pulling his trembling form against your chest that would hopefully offer him some comfort, even if it was just a little. 

     "Y/N," he breathed, his fingers gripping onto the fabric of your shirt as if you were all he had, as if he was afraid that you would leave again, as if you were his only light left in the darkness that consumed him. 

No words were needed for you to understand what he was going through, just one glance had you knowing all you needed to know. The yaksha was sweating profusely, surges of sharp pain and terror racking his body and a thick black fog crawling around you threateningly, like vultures waiting to devour their dying prey. The karma he was burdened with was a presence lurking perpetually, but on days where it became unbearable, it had him tearing at the seams. 

     "Xiao, I'm here," you whispered softly, running your hand over the tense muscles in his back soothingly. "You're not alone anymore, it's all good now." 

You knew it wasn't, and so did he. His internal battles with his karmic debts were everlasting for as long as he lived, and his immortality rested on his shoulders heavily as a curse. 

But your words also held some truth, something that wasn't just a hollow consolation to offer some empty comfort. He truly wasn't alone anymore, and even though you could do nothing to ease his heavy burden, you could offer him your warmth and love every time his world froze over once more.

     "...'s too much," the adeptus growled, breathing heavily. He was hot and feverish, weak and exhausted. His eyes were dull and tired when he finally looked at you, damp hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

It wasn't a rare sight to see Xiao like this, but rather a sight you had to witness too often, and you knew you would never get used to it. 

Everyone thought of the vigilant yaksha as cold and emotionless, indifferent and invincible, almost taking his guard over Liyue and its people for granted. Yet here he was, your arms that were around him all that kept him from fully breaking apart in his most vulnerable state. 

     "I know," you agreed quietly, because there was no use in telling him otherwise. These phases were torture in its rawest form, leaving him with a pain that couldn't be described with the words available in the human language. 

     "But remember one thing, Xiao," you continued, brushing some loose strands of hair away from his eyes tenderly. "You are stronger than the darkness, you are better than the darkness. The past is in the past, and the person you have become is a hero loved and appreciated by many. I know you don't believe in your own light, so please let me be your light to guide you through the shadows, okay?"

Words were just words, and you knew that all too well. You couldn't relieve Xiao from his misery, but you still had become his okay when nothing else was okay anymore. He had let you see through his strong facade so quickly, he loved you, needed you, and that alone was enough to grant you the power to save him in his darkest moments. 

His life before you was a mess. Loneliness and sorrow were gnawing at him, the darkness around him weaving a web that seemed impossible to escape from. But he had found his guiding light, his motivation to endure the pain, his reason to fight the demons in his mind and come back even stronger than before. 

It was all you.

     "Y/N," he brought out, slowly letting go of your shirt and draping his arms over your shoulders. He looked at you earnestly, his hazy amber eyes still barely able to focus on you properly. Dried tears had left trails on his cheeks, and you softly reached out to wipe them off. 

He slightly leaned into your touch, his gaze not leaving yours. His body shook when another wave of pain surged through his being, and he furrowed his brows.

     "Y/N, say you love me," he begged hoarsely. 

Oh, he knew you loved him, just like you knew he loved you. But hearing you speak those three words out loud never failed to ignite a spark of hope and warmth in his heart, and not even the strongest peaks in his karmic debt could take that away from him. 

     "Xiao," you started, properly cupping his cheeks this time. "I love you." 

After that you brought him closer, and his crumbling world was whole again when your lips touched his. It was warm, it was safe, and the yaksha finally found it in him to relax. You felt it too, and relief washed over you as you smiled into the kiss. 

You were glad you got to meet the yaksha, on that fateful night many months ago. You were his, he was yours, and together you could conquer the shadows. 

Xiao protected the land of Liyue.

And you protected him. 

has this been done before

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear. for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

─── 𓈒 𝓨EARNER!𝓙ASON TODD 𝓗EADCANONS ❪ SMUT ❫

𝓖𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 : ; smut headcanons for 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 who yearns. or, well, jason todd who’s ovulating from yearning for you more.

𝓒ONTENTS : : yearner!jason todd. smut. foreplay mentioned. praises. ooc(?). female!reader. smut. light smut. masturbation. sweet nothings. fluff. aftercare. both are of age !! gramatical errors. yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner

BOOKS — DC BOOK

REQUESTED ; SUGGESTED : : @yeoniverseee : I sent you the request on ig not here 😭 I'm sorry, boo. Okay. I need need need need need yearner! Jason Todd headcanons. Begging. Jason Todd in general is already a yearner so it's like ovulating! LMAO

ᨦ𓏲 ، ݃♟❜ : : my....... first...... time.......... writing........ smut............................... I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT THIS— I'M NOT GOOD AT IT AT AWLL SO I'M SOSOSOSO SORRY😓 also, these are HEADCANONS,, & how i see yearner!(ovulating)jason. so.. yeah.. inspired by my two works, most ardently ( mostly this. )& my love. ion think i will ever write smut again... i only wrote this bc my pretty girl was the one who requested 😭( luv u so much. ) sighs.. okay. it's fine. it's cool. && OVULATING!JASON IM SOBBING LDMAO. i made this TWO WEEKS AGO btw.. yeah.. that's how difficult writing smut is for me... so don't expect much. will do a fluff version.. bc no waayyy.. ... but i love-love hannie 😋 god my blog is not sfw anymore. & layout is once again, inspired by eli < 3

yearner!jason todd who touches you like you're a secret he never imagined he'd be able to keep. every time. slow hands. he's committing you to memory. like if he dies again, your skin will be the final thing he sees & feel

yearner!jason todd who gets hard just hearing you say his name. especially when it's soft. or needy. or when you whine while pulling him closer. like, like, it physically affects him. sometimes he bites his lip to keep himself from coming too fast.

yearner!jason todd who always, always, always, always kisses you first. regardless of how desperate he is, regardless of how quickly it begins. there's always a kiss. kisses. kiss. kisses. because to him, it isn't merely sex. it never is just sex. it's a "i missed you. i love you. i fear of losing you." kind.

yearner!jason todd who's a foreplay guy. like…like… he's making out with you for 30-ish minutes before he even considers doing anything else. thighs jammed between yours, his hands pressing up under your shirt, moaning( he moans. like come awn. ) into your mouth like you're air.

yearner!jason todd who wants to go down on you more than he wants to breathe. legit, legit, literally, literally his favorite thing. his hands on your thighs, his eyes on you, humming into you just to feel you squirm( 😛 ). he needs, needs, needs you falling apart because of him.

yearner!jason todd who never, ever, ever, hurries your clothes off. it's slow. like he's unwrapping something holy( but will be doing something unholy,, ). kissing each inch of skin as he takes them off you. whispering little sweet nothings ( well. yeah. shh. it is. he's sweet. very sweet. ) like "so fuckin' beautiful. god, ma, look at you."

yearner!jason todd cried during sex,,, he insisted it was sweat. you both knew otherwise. like. nu-uh. he came so hard he gagged on his own breath, then buried his face against your neck & sniffled. his voice cracked when he said "fuck. i didn't think i'd ever get this.” ( #yearner )

yearner!jason todd who whimpers. not grunts. whimpers.( dc mls, please normalize whimperer!jason. im tired of people saying he only scowls( who scowls during sex though… i don't read smut allat…… ), groans, grunts.. it's yearner!jason anw so yay!! okay i'll stop. ) when it's good. when he's close. when he's overwhelmed. his hips stutter & catch in breath & his hands hold on to you like you'll vanish.

yearner!jason todd who speaks so much in bed. i said it. & not cocky dirty stuff. like emotional crap. "i love you so much." "you feel like heaven." "you make me feel real." between gentle moans & curses & kissing your shoulder. ( like. i changed my mind. put a baby in me already. take that fucking condom awfff. )

yearner!jason todd when he bottoms( or well, let you take control..,, for a bit ), he stops. not because he needs to. because he needs to feel you. needs you to feel him. chest to chest. lips moving. arms trembling. "jesus christ━━baby━━i'm so fuckin' in love with you."

yearner!jason todd who gets overwhelmed. sometimes he freezes in mid sentence just to hug you. arms wrapped tight. face buried in your chest or your neck or your shoulder. grounding himself. because he still can't believe it's real. can't believe that you're real. can't believe that he's real.

yearner!jason todd who says thank you. after. during. every time. sometimes a whisper. sometimes a broken moan. "thank you. fuck. thank you. i needed this. i needed you."

yearner!jason todd who's top kinks are……….. praise, desperation, & you. he doesn’t care where, when, or how. as long as you’re there. tell him he’s good. tell him he’s perfect. he’ll lose it.

yearner!jason todd who he always finishes with his face pressed to you. in your neck. on your chest. buried between your thighs. somewhere soft. somewhere safe( yes, your cunt is very safe for him ) .

yearner!jason todd who loves watching you cum,, multiple times. because.,,, gets so hooked. hooked on your sounds, the movement of your body, the way you moan his name as if it's the only thing you know.

yearner!jason todd who's aftercare is crazy. insane. five stars. warm towels, water, checking your skin, running a bath, walking you. he won't stop unless you make him. he needs to know you're alright. that he didn't mess it up. that you're still his. “don’t think i know how to do this” my ass.

yearner!jason todd who'll l kiss each & every mark he made. each bruise, each scratch, each hickey. mumbling little sorrys( that you are convinced he doesn't mean.. but does at the same time.. like. yeah. ) & "mine" simultaneously. it's possessive, but also very, very, gentle.

yearner!jason todd who needs touch you even afterwards. clingy. messy. burried you onto his chest, or snuggling into your arms. hand in your shirt. leg between your legs. mumbled half asleep,,, "don't leave. not yet."

yearner!jason todd who masturbates to thinking about your first time all the time. not because it was sexy ( although it was ), but because it mattered. because you made a choice.& that choice is him. he'll stroke himself slow, moaning your name into his pillow, hips jerking like he's there. & kaboom. woah.

yearner!jason todd who's an absolute menace when you’re teasing. brushing against him, wearing something skimpy, straddling him casually. he gets shaky. hard. clenches his jaw. begs with his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

yearner!jason todd who's hands tremble when he's desperate. like when it's been too long, or when you kissed him too slowly, or when he's been missing you. he'll press his forehead against yours & plead, softly, "please angel, please let me have you."

yearner!jason todd who loves, loves, loves it when you ride him. looks up at you like he's beholding a god( or zimba, your choice ). mouth open. hands on your waist. little compliments with each bounce. "that's it. fuck━━look at you. you're everything."

yearner!jason todd who groans your name when he climaxes. no censorship( lol yeah no no ). loud, oh, loud, sometimes strangled. like it's being torn from his chest. like it's the last word he'll ever speak. like he's dying again but in a good way.

yearner!jason todd who keeps something of yours in his pillowcase( with permission, of course !! actually, you gave it to him ). for nights when he can’t have you. a shirt. a scarf… your underwear. bra. sweater. something that smells like you. he presses his face to it, wraps around it like he’s holding you. sometimes he’ll jerk off holding it. sometimes he just cries.

yearner!jason todd who needs it to be about love. even when it's complicated. even when he's complicated. even when you're complicated. he'll bite your shoulder & grab your hair & swear under his breath, but he always slows down to kiss you like you saved him. ( #needthat #isthisavailableonamazon #howaboutshein #maybelazada #orshoppee )

© spcherryygirl

let me shatter into you

— aka jason knows better than to let anyone get away with hurting you

———

your eyes trace the brown-yellow bruise forming on your wrist, the consequence of some asshole on the street too drunk to remember it isn’t polite to grab pretty girls. you would’ve let it go, really, it’s gotham, this kind of thing happens. unfortunately for the poor bastard, he had the misfortune of forgetting his sense in front of jason todd.

you try to hide the bruise before your boyfriend can see it, sliding the tarnished patch of skin under the sleeve of your jacket with haste— but he catches it anyways. of course he does. you can faintly see shocks of green lightning crackling in his ocean blue eyes, a precursor to the white hot rage stemming from his chest to the rest of his body.

you gently squeeze his arm, noting how tense the muscles in his bicep are. you know jason. you know he loves you differently— like you’re something fragile. he worships you, taking care of you like you’re a marble statue and he’s terrified of finding cracks. so something as small as a bruise, no matter how tiny or how minor, it makes him lose control.

he gently removes your hand from his arm, pressing a chaste kiss against your bruise. “why don’t you go back to that café, yeah? i’ll join you in a minute.” he says, looking down at you with a soft smile. if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’d completely gotten over the situation, happy as a clam.

but you do know him, and you know that the way his shoulders are tensed and his free hand is fisted in the pocket of his jacket means that he’s enraged.

“jay—“

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, giving you a gentle smile. “please, baby. i don’t want you to see this.”

you should stop it. you should try. but he’s looking at you like that and your morals suddenly become incredibly loose. you hesitate, remembering the waves of repulsion you felt moments ago when that idiot bastard yanked you towards him. “just… don’t hurt him bad.”

jason nods, turning you around and guiding you forward, watching until you turn towards the cafe before he focuses his attention on the man, who is still too piss drunk to comprehend how badly he had fucked up. you hear jason before the door fully closes behind you, an echo of “so you think that’s how you should treat a woman?”

he’s terrifying. that drunk idiot must be terrified.

and he’s yours. scary dog privileges and all that. it makes you feel warm, safe, loved, protected— you’re irrevocably in love with that. with him.

he comes back in a few minutes, maybe fifteen? the wait stretched on for hours in your mind. his knuckles are bloody, but none of it is his. he cleans up in the bathroom before sliding next to you on the cushioned side of your half-booth, wrapping an arm and your shoulder, breathing you in like a man starved.

“he’s fine.” he says quietly, so only you can hear it. “just made sure he learned to keep his hands to himself.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, into his warmth. you don’t say anything— you don’t have to, the way you bury yourself against him is admission enough. his arms wrap around you and the bruise fades back into your skin. your heart beats with more love than you thought it capable of producing, your chest swelling like it’s about to burst.

you press a gentle kiss against his chest and everything makes sense again.

———

it’s always when i say i’m not gonna write that inspiration strikes

pre-relationship stage with them

characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country

Gepard

Poor poor Geppie.

He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.

I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.

"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!" "I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend" to care about them.

Sure, Gepard. Sure.

He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.

Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.

Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.

Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.

If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.

Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.

Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.

Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.

He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.

Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.

Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.

If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.

Loves giving you head pats.

Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.

Aventurine

Good lord.

This man is such a mess.

Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.

You have to be patient with him okay.

I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.

But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.

Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.

I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit when realizing how much you actually mean to him.

Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.

Even if it's scary.

Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.

Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.

It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.

On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.

Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.

Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.

Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.

Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.

Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.

Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.

LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.

Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.

... ♥

been thinking about them a lot lately