#i'm rattling the steal bars of my enclosure

[dylanconrique]

I WILL!!! GET YOU!!!! SOMEDAY!!!!! I WILL GET YOU SOME DAY TIMOTHY BRADFORD. I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART WITH MY TEETH IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[taylorsabrina]

GIRL MEETS WIZARDS OF WAVERLY PLACE WHEEENN????????

[ddarker-dreams]

I'm clutching on the bars rn pls give us more bf blade content before I explode

I GOTCHU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm joining you in rattling the bars of my enclosure .... bf blade is making me feel Things ... .

warnings: fem reader, not sfw implications

While changing into a new shirt, a deep voice drawls your name. 

Your heart jumps in your chest. If it weren’t for the recognizable timbre, you may have shrieked. It’s a small blessing that you’ve been spared this indignation. Huffing, you turn on your heels, pulling down the bunched-up fabric to cover yourself. 

“I thought you promised to stop jumpscaring me,” you chastise. 

The jumpscare in question — Blade — fixates on your previously exposed midriff. You note how his eyebrows pinch together, though you’re unsure what to make of it. He doesn’t acknowledge your comment. Not even with what Silver Wolf’s decreed his ‘limited NPC dialogue’ (a grunt, hum, nose exhale, or the occasional chuckle, solely procured by your antics). 

“Lift your shirt,” Blade requests. 

“Eh?” You stare at him like he has three heads. “Sorry, I’m waiting until marriage for that.” 

He gives you an unimpressed look. 

“Fine, fine, whatever,” you grumble, acquiescing to the strange demand, “And they said romance is dead…” 

Blade kneels onto one knee. Before you can reiterate the marriage comment was a joke, his gloved fingers hover over the sides of your hips. The leather is cool against your rapidly warming skin. Once you overcome your initial confusion, you consider his countenance. He’s frowning, his eyes playing host to emotions you can’t quite place. His thumb rubs circles into the skin, softly enough to be mistaken for a ghost’s kiss. He appears to be in deep thought. 

You’re rendered speechless — a most commendable feat. 

“These bruises,” Blade murmurs, his voice hollow and haunted, “Did I…?” 

Realization crashes into you like a meteorite. 

You yank the fabric down. “Well, uh, yes, but—” 

(He goes pale as a sheet, further increasing the urgency behind your words). 

“—It’s okay! You didn’t— it wasn’t— I didn’t mind,” you reassure. Clearing your throat, you continue, fighting against the embarrassment scorching you alive. “If anything, I… was into it, so…” 

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. His arms fall limp to his side as he mulls over what you’ve said, clearly unwilling to accept it at face value. Uncertain of what else to do, you join him on the ground, sitting on your shins. You take his face in your hands, brushing aside his bangs that’d obscured his eyes. His hair’s silky smooth, thanks to your products and insistence on combing through the knots. 

“Hey, old man,” you hum. “All that frowning’s gonna make you look your prehistoric age. You don’t want some young, dashing whippersnapper to steal me away, do ya?” 

Blade scowls. Smiling softly, you boop him on the nose, to which he scrunches it up. 

Your voice takes on a more serious cadence. “You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you, so… trust me on this, okay? Just this once?” 

It’s gradual. He relaxes his shoulders, then the taut muscles of his face, basking in your closeness. He leans into your touch, reminding you of a stray cat that’s steadily being domesticated. You let the silence linger for as long as he sees fit. Eventually, his gaze meets yours. 

“... It’s a dangerous game you play, girl.”

I’m dangerous, the insatiable hunger in his eyes screams. I long to devour you, mind and soul. 

To this, you grin. 

“It’s a good thing I’ve already won, then.”