#but I keep seeing these fics or posts or comments and it’s very much like they’re trying to dodge something they literally don’t have to do
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psycheetamore · 2 days ago
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@houserautha : thank you for this vulnerable post. I feel you. I support you. I love you for writing this. I love you for writing TDE and the one shots.
When I first joined Tumblr I did not feel entitled to comment on anything. Now I have more of a FU, I will comment on whatever approach. So where I may not have been commenting on every single bit, I have been mentioning your work here and there.
Let me be a bit introspective. Show some of the negative impacts the point you raise, which I also undergo, have caused me to commit.
A first disclaimer to add: I know I am in no way entitled to any response from anyone. This is a me-problem. I know that. That does not mean it does not hurt. But that is not a you-problem, it is a me-problem.
I have been inclined so often to make a similar post. But what refrained me, is that I know some of the topics I explore in my fics are quite niche, and that I know my writing qualities are nowhere near for instance yours. Anyhow, it has made me feel not entitled to make this observation, but if you do it, with your wonderful writing style and mix of plot & smut, while capturing our na-Baron's heart perfectly, then I am entitled to support you by sharing my own feelings.
A bit of background on what I have tried to do to keep the fandom alive, and how it has (not) been responded to:
I try to comment increasingly on posts, trying to increase engagement and kickstart a convo. Sometimes I will go out of my way and do lenghty reposts. Yet this more often does not result in any responses than it does. Again: I am not entitled to any response, me responding does not mean anyone is obliged to respond. But even the lack of a smiley or whatever makes me feel like I am a social outcast (it throws me back to my youth, truly). Sometimes I will see in the blogger's page that they are on a spectrum, which removes that negative feeling btw - in such cases I will continue.
I became a member to a Feyd community (invitation only thing). I felt so honoured! I dragged in some of my favourite fanfic writers, who all happily obliged. Only to see that after a first few posts from my hand the responses started to decline. With the last posts resulting in zero engagement. Nobody owes me anything, but it makes it hard to stay in there. It feels like rejection (more on that below), and I have too much self respect to act like a puppy being kicked repeatedly yet coming back. Again: this is all about my feelings, and nobody owes me shit.
I write fanfic. My writing style is not there with the Feyd author gods I so adore. Working on that, pouring my heart and soul in it, and it is ok if people don't like it. Somehow, few likes and no comments allows me to see my fic as niche, while a lot of likes and no comments make me feel more empty? I don't know.
And it has started to bug me. It has caused me to have periods of negative vibes around tumblr. It has concretely caused a few types of responses:
I have stepped out of the Feyd Tumblr Community Group. I thought about it for a few months. Was very reluctant as I dragged in quite a few people. That tbh has reduced these feelings; stepping out of that has been positive for my mental welbeing.
With people who engage with me, I will return the favour. With people who don't, I will feel reluctance. With a few I even thought about unfollowing them. I prioritise commenting on authors who engage with me on a regular basis, over great authors who don't. Perhaps it is because it makes me feel they are entitled. This is bad, because this causes the downward spiral. And there could be good reasons why they do not ready any of the fics I write, even if I tag them very deliberately (I do not tag a lot). And again: I am not entitled to anything. But it hurts. And effectively it makes me respond & engage less than if I would be a 100% happy go lucky me. Want my engagement, want my engagement continuously? A little pat on the back will go a far way.
I write less than I would want to. I am an extravert. I thrive on engagement with people. Bouncing ideas of them. Lack of it has a negative impact.
Esp around christmas I felt quite horrible about all of this. It was esp the result of a few bloggers who suddenly did not respond anymore. It made me feel so rejected. Like I did something wrong. It made me contemplate quitting tumblr a couple of times. But I decided not to do that, because this is not the first time this happened, so it is something linked to me, not tumblr as such. It made me do some soulsearching. It stems from my youth. I listened to quite some podcasts, read articles etc. I learned that I am hardwired for rejection. Everything that happens, or does not happen, will be seen in my head as rejection. I feel so freaking ashamed to admit this, tbh. I have only 1 real life friend I dared to admit this to. I felt so ashamed around christmas, that I was being brought to these obsessive feelings over a fricking fandom. I am nearly at tears writing this. No, let's be honest. I am in tears.
And this is all not helping the fandom! I am showing behaviour that is not helping this fandom I so much love. With the bloggers I mentioned who stopped responding, I later on continued to have some nice convo's (but I feel held back to show myself as deeply as I did before - I am hardwired for rejection), showing it is a problem with me and how I interpret actions.
But that is all not helping the point you so rightfully raise. The topic on how we keep this fandom alive.
To keep it alive we do not need a lot of people, we need a few people who are willing to engage a lot.
In the real world my suggestion would be to gather a core group of Feyd girlies who see this as an issue and have proven to be active and supportive, and do something about it. Like voluntarily promise to try to support each other. I hoped this would be the case with the Feyd community I stepped out of last week, but unfortunately it wasn't.
This is a fandom: the fact that it is declining is by itself the rightful consequence of its members not feeling it is worth having. So, my crude conclusion is that the decline is the natural consequence of what all of us are willing to put into this.
But, now I have poured my heart and soul into this post, it has caused relief. And I have an idea. Because not only am I hardwired to find rejection and look at myself in a bad way, I am also hardwired to see solutions.
personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.
especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.
obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.
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ar-agon · 1 day ago
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So branching out some more on writing but I got inspo for a fic and I thought I'd give in a try- Ar
Summary: Inspired by @alnilaem post about TikToker reader and grumpy-looking Simon Riley. Reader is described using fem pronouns.
Length: 1276
You gained a following on TikTok due to making easy meals and baking cakes. You also always wore dresses and hand-made embroidered aprons while making your videos, giving all your videos a warm, homey vibe. It was what some of your viewers called your aesthetic, a lovely housewife. You didn’t mind it too much, given you were a stay-at-home wife. Your husband Simon worked construction, and that brought in enough to pay for everything, and the little you got from your videos helped cushion whatever else you wanted. Simon never showed up in your videos, either letting you have reign of the kitchen or him being at work while you filmed. 
You decided for today’s video to hop on the “pack my husband’s lunch with me” trend. So you began the video as you always do, “Hey, everyone, I am doing something new today. So, we are going to be packing my husband’s lunch today.” You smile at the camera as you start making Simon two roast beef sandwiches. “He's not very picky when it comes to food, but he certainly doesn’t like anything super fancy for lunch,” you say as you continue to pack his lunch. You hum to yourself as you make the sandwiches, placing them in a plastic bag. You then grab a small container and fill it with grapes, placing it in the bag as well. You then grab a small thermos and fill it with coffee, placing it in the bag as well. You then grab a small bag of chips and place it in the bag, sealing it up. You then grab a small notebook and pen and write a small note, placing it in the bag as well. “And there it is, my husband’s lunch.” The camera pans over the lunchbox before the video ends. 
You posted the video without watching it fully. If you had, you would have noticed Simon in the background. You knew your husband looked mean all huge and muscular. He was also wearing one of his work shirts that was covered in paint splatter. You had tried your hardest to get most of it out when you washed them, but you never truly succeeded. Simon was handsome but always had a resting mad face. So, when you looked at the comments and noticed a bunch of people asking you if you were okay, you knew that your rough-looking husband had made an appearance. 
“Close your fist with your thumb inside if you're not safe,” You read one of the comments out loud to Simon as you cuddled on the couch, watching movies.
“What?” he asked.
“My comments from my packing your lunch video. They’re filled with people asking me if I’m okay.”
Simon snorts and laughs, pulling you closer. "You should know by now that people are always worried about you. But I'm sure they're just seeing my face and getting confused." Simon was a large man, always wearing paint covered clothes and always looking grumpy, even if he was in a good mood.
“Maybe I should do a video about you?” you ask as she scrolls through more and more worried comments. “Just because you’re bigger than me and look mean doesn’t mean I’m in any danger.”
“I don’t know you might be,” Simon laughs as he pinches your side.
“Si, I’m serious,” you squeak softly as you push his hand away, “they think you’re forcing me to stay home.”
Simon looks at you in shock, then rolls his eyes jokingly and lets out a fake gasp. “But what else can a brute like myself do except keep a tiny and very beautiful wife at home?” He asks in mock shock, and he pinches you again softly, knowing how ticklish you really were when you let your guard down.
“Stop it,” you giggle, pushing his hand away again, “you’re not helping your case right now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” he states as he kisses your cheek, “fine, make the video if you must, but I doubt it will change much.”
“Blink twice in the next video if you need help. This is getting ridiculous.”
"Sure whatever you say dear," Simon teases, before grabbing your chin and making you pay attention to him. "But please know that I love you and wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to," he added a gentle, teasing smirk growing before pulling you on to his lap. 
“I know, Si,” you sigh softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mrs. Riley,” he grinned before pulling you into a kiss. 
The next day, you decided to make the video while making one of Simon’s favorite cakes.
  The video starts with you standing in your kitchen, dressed up in one of your many dresses with a hand embroidered apron on. You smile at the camera, looking pretty in your quaint kitchen as you begin to speak. "Hey, everybody! It's me again," you greeted your phone camera, "today I'm making a special cake for my husband. It's one of his favorite, so I thought I'd share it with you."
Simon is seen sitting across the kitchen counter, reading a novel and occasionally glancing up.
“He likes them very rich, so we are making a dark chocolate with caramel filling and white chocolate flakes on top,” you state as you begin to prepare that batter. “So, I also wanted to address the very nice and worried comments about me. My husband may look mean, but I can assure you all that he is just a big ol’ teddy bear.”
You started to stir the batter together. “He doesn’t keep me at home, I like making videos and baking for all of you. So, I have made it my full-time job. I used to work in an office, but now that there are so many of you who enjoy watching me bake and cook, well, I am really grateful for all of you.”
Simon watched with amusement as you made cakes and defended him from strangers on the internet who were convinced he was keeping his wife chained to a stove.  He chuckled and then added a remark. 
"You always said you hated that job anyway,” Simon said, finally pulling his gaze away from his book to glance in your direction. You had always loved being a homemaker, but back in you office days, there was definitely no shortage of complaints.
“I did but thanks to you guys,” you said addressing the audience in the video, “I can finally do something that I love.” You pause the video so you could cut to when the cake was baked and cool before decorating.
“Do you think that will go over well? That they’ll believe me?” you place the cake batter into the oven.
Simon closes his book and gets up from his seat, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you. "They better believe us," he mutters into your ear, "don't want people thinking that I abuse my poor wife." He gently kisses your neck before letting you out of his grip. 
“I’m sure some will still think so but I’m just glad to have you around, Mr. Riley,” you tell him.
“As am I my little housewife,” he says pulling you close.
You finish the cake and the video before posting it to you viewers to see. There's a couple of worried comments, but most of the comments range from "Aw, that's adorable," to "See? Told you guys he wasn't such a brute."
Simon leans over your shoulder, looking at the comments. "Told you they would believe us," he says with a teasing smirk.
“I know,” you smile.
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guzhufuren · 3 days ago
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Hey, I've noticed you've been pretty quiet lately and I hope you're doing okay. I know we're not friends or even mutuals so I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by messaging! I hope the world will treat you kindly and that you can find comfort and support if you need it 💕
hi sweetheart wow this is so genuinely nice and kind of you, thank you so much for caring to the point of reaching out
i'm on the way there! i will be okay, hopefully soon. it's not serious, i just had a medium sized break down after receiving a very negative comment on something i made, in mix with a bit of unrelated loneliness and yearning on top of that, plus many many 4am drowsy what-am-i-doing-with-my-life regretful thoughts that i have had in the last months swimming up. like for my unwellness history it's really only about 6 points on the scale where the maximum is 10, so not big. i turned all social apps off but couldn't shake off the distress caused by that one stranger on the internet being unkind to my project, despite knowing they were misunderstanding and were also not in a state to understand at all, so i was kind of confused about what's up with my brain and why it can't move on
and it was a good choice! because after being only with myself without any internet distractions for the first time in years, figured out in just a day that mood swings have been back for a while, over one month at least (so anger issues weren't totally Yunho's fault actually bless him), some other parts of mental health worsened too
got a grip on myself, went to my doctor, got back on meds, now i'm sleepy every minute of waking hours while my body is getting used to them again, but it's gonna be fine. received advice on how to write a mood log, turns out very helpful as additional treatment to keep hypomania and anxiety under control. i even started working out, doing memory exercises and preparing my exam notes tentatively, which is so hard and scary, oh my god, but i must. job search is even scarier but i'm working myself up to finding a good one with little, very very very very tiny steps but they are moving
in the first day of self made quarantine i rewatched the queer korean show Love for Love's Sake that cured me from depression for a while and from any possibility of suicidality for a lifetime last year. it didn't work the trick again, because i'm really not living in the best or even just calm psychological environment to let it do its magical healing thing the way it should, but it did give me new clarity and make me intensely cry some shit out, so that was also very nice
accidentally found the best fic ever and it brought me so much very needed comfort in the past week. it's sweet, funny and stress free. like a warm blanket. or a cup of vanilla cocoa that makes your cold toes tingle in winter. or a hug from the love of your life. first atz and woosan fic to enter my hall of all time longfic favourites. very rare honor but it deserves it completely
also found a bunch of bloggers who post videos of the ocean in Thailand, some even stream the beach 24/7. it's so cool, i watch it in the evenings for short periods of time. helps making it bearable to just survive here a little bit longer until i am able leave
i sort of of really like that when i don't spend 12 hours a day on the phone doing mind-numbing scrolling or posting, there is so much free time to do cool stuff? i have kinda felt like i can be back on here for a couple of days, but i still freak out a bit for two reasons. first, that bad comment is still hanging there and it still makes me too upset to open notifications or my own blog page, which is ridiculous but that's how my dumbass unwell-brain-made feelings are. so i will see how that goes away and i get over it like an adult. second, i'm scared to be sucked back in the addiction to the colourful little hellsite app so i usually end up throwing the phone away in panic after 5 minutes of the app being open. maybe i will work up to it more gradually, don't know, let's see how that goes too
thank you again my little treasure, i will happily take that kindness and comfort you offered here as you are a part of the world. and you can message without worrying anytime, no mutualship or officially labelled friendship necessary. i'm very cool with small amount of interactions, just not big on chatting online one on one for long and don't enjoy it super much. and also with how often i see you around we are considered friends for sure. so thank you again for being so sweet i really am so grateful to you for this, one hundred friend hugs in return
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voxslays · 9 hours ago
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It's interesting that you say you dont write m!reader, but you'll tag it.. idk guys 🤨
Since y’all keep harassing me I might as well respond.
First of all, I posted that fic two days ago. TWO DAYS AGO. And you guys are still commenting on it. Which go ahead, all it does is give me more notes and “the attention I so desperately crave”. You commenting isn’t going to change anything, so just leave me alone bro. I can (and have) blocked people.
Secondly, if you don’t like it, don’t interact? I’ve seen some people posting about it—you aren’t obligated to comment or read my posts and fics if you hate them so much. Like bro? Just ignore. This has happened in fandoms I’m in (a lot), and all I do is ignore it. So why can’t we all grow up and do the same? All your comments are doing is giving me a good laugh. I don’t take any of your seriously.
Lastly, I don’t even plan on posting more COD content. It was a short hyperfixation that died out. So instead of harassing me by commenting or flooding my inbox by calling me a ‘retard’ (and yes, someone said that lol. It made me laugh). Why don’t you just let that fic fade into the void? Just wait for others to post content until it’s so deep you cant even find it anymore.
And thank you to the people who have supported me! It really makes my day to see all your comments. However, don’t harass any of these people (you know who you are). Two wrongs don’t make a right.
IN CONCLUSION; just ignore me if you hate me and my posts that much. It isn’t that hard. Y’all are throwing a tantrum over something very minute. If you are so parasocial and chronically online you think it’s okay to harass someone over literal FANFICTION—you need to rethink your priorities.
Bye lovelies!!
P.S. I will be laughing at any comments placed under this post.
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+ proof for those who don’t believe me lol
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Reminder for the dpxdc writers!
Yeah I know lots of us get canon and fanon confused and some never watched Danny Phantom which is why I’m going to *friendly remind everyone* that if you don’t want to use the Ghost King Danny thing, it’s—it’s fanon. Like. You do not need to go out of your way to make it Not A Thing, if you find it’s hindering your plot line or whatever. You don’t have to write around it. At this point, you might need to clarify it’s not something you’re doing, since it’s so common, but like—if I have to read one more plot where they’re twisted up in knots to avoid it, like. Pls. You can do what you want and that includes this, we already disregard canon all the time, you can buck common fanon as well I’m—
That’s not to say I’m against Ghost King Danny, but I’m starting to think it’s one of those things people are afraid to stray from because they think it’s it’s one of the more… pillar parts? Of Danny’s character and canon? When it’s, like, not. If you want to write in reasons why he’s not king and etc etc you CAN, it’s your story and maybe it even serves your plot or tone or you just want to, but you can also just not even have it be a consideration. You’re free to just not do it.
#dpxdc#this isn’t me going It’s Not Canon So WHY-#like y’all do what you want#but I keep seeing these fics or posts or comments and it’s very much like they’re trying to dodge something they literally don’t have to do#like we say disregard canon for a reason?#some stuff we kinda consider what I’m calling either required canon or pillar canon#where you can only shift it a little or only one of them at MOST before it becomes unrecognizable as a fan piece#take Danny’s first name. we sometimes switch his last name or his legal full name#but his nickname STAYS Danny. this is very rarely strayed from#Jazz is always his older sister. sam likes gardening. there’s ghosts around. stuff like that#it’s not that it’s never messed with (mermaid au or reverse ages) but there is a sort of boundary there#like maybe you switch the ages or switch the hobbies or the ghosts are something else but like there’s only so much? if that makes sense#bc eventually the characters and or setting become unrecognizable if you do Too Much#and I feel like maybe people think Danny HAS to be Ghost King just like how the Waynes HAVE to be the Bats#I can’t stress enough that you can do what you want#but esp for fanon things you can just. not do them.#I don’t do obsessions in my (unpublished) works!#bc I don’t like working with them! it’s fine to read and all but I don’t like writing with them very often#it also feels like the ghost king Danny thing is often so backburner that it’s like… why?#why have this when it seems it’s just More Stress And A Costume Change Powerup#but that’s just my thoughts and rant you can ABSOLUTELY ignore it
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luvo27 · 1 month ago
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look finding out that steph kills her dad wasn't a trope genuinely really rocked me ok. like its been an unstated truth of the world in my mind for literally over a real life year
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artemisdesari-blog · 5 months ago
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A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
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aemondsbabe · 8 months ago
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Deliverance
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summary: following your nephew's death, you find aemond in need of comfort. as his older sister, who are you to deny him?
pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, mentioned canon death, infidelity technically but reader's husband is cool with it and understands that she comes from a weirdo family cough cough incest cough, lactation kink, hurt/comfort, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, titty sucking, angst but happy ending, otto cameo ew, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 7.4k
a/n: *slams fist on table* i need for him to suck on my boobie
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
gif creds to @feodor-dostoevsky
🦋my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Shall I fetch Maester Orwyle once we return to your chambers, Princess?” Your handmaiden, Edyth, questions as the two of you make your way up one of the many winding staircases in the Red Keep – each step making you wince. 
“Yes, please,” you sigh, ever grateful that she had always seemed to have a knack for predicting your requests before you had the chance to voice them, “Perhaps tell him to prepare some of the same soothing balm he gave to Helaena?” 
“Of course, Princess,” Edyth nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, ever the optimist, “I believe it should help with your aches, I remember it seemed to help the Queen after…” She trails off, breath hitching in her throat.
A heavy silence seems to fall over the two of you, the same that had been blanketing the entirety of the palace for the past few days. You swallow thickly, battling against the lump suddenly growing at the back of your throat and merely nod your head in simple understanding, offering her a tight-lipped smile, “I’m sure it will be of great help, Edyth, thank you.” 
Ever since… it had happened, the Red Keep feels as if it’s made of eggshells, like one small gust of wind could knock it right over. Everyone’s so on edge, terrified of saying too much or too little, the wrong thing at the wrong time. The stress of it all seems nearly suffocating, though you still have a feeling the worst was yet to come. 
Suddenly, someone calls your name from behind you and you turn, smiling once you see your grandsire striding toward you.
“A raven arrived earlier from Gwayne,” Otto explains, deep voice carrying down the empty hallway, “He’s reached Oldtown safely, everything seems to be well there.”
“Oh, wonderful,” you nod, grateful for news of your husband.
“Indeed,” he continues, “Daeron seems to be in good spirits, happy to come home; they’re to depart tomorrow, as scheduled… forgive me, I meant to tell you before supper but it seems to have slipped my mind.”
“Everything has been so hectic of late, please don’t trouble yourself. He arrived safely and will be back all the sooner for it, that is what matters.”
“Of course,” Otto nods, glancing out a nearby window, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve been ordered to attend to His Grace,” he says gruffly, a wry smile on his lips, nodding in the direction of Aegon’s chambers.
You nod at the mention of your twin, brows pinching together with worry. “Be… patient with him, grandsire, please,” you beseech, chest heaving with a soft sigh, “I spoke with him earlier this morning, he’s… well, he’s not himself.”
“Are any of us anymore, I wonder,” Otto mutters, fixing you with a tight smile before taking his leave, striding quickly down the hallway. Your brows furrow at that, you can’t help but throw Edyth a questioning look before the two of you continue toward your chambers. 
“Seven Hells,” you grumble, quickly bringing a hand to your breast as you climb another, blessedly shorter, set of stairs, “Perhaps check the nursery first, yes? Daena may be stirring still…” You know better, even as the words leave your lips. 
Your daughter has finally begun sleeping soundly through the night recently and while that is cause for celebration, you certainly won’t miss the past eight moons of late night feedings, your poor breasts are paying the price – your body not yet caught up with the lessened need for milk. 
“Yes, Princess,” Edyth replies with a little nod, walking alongside you.
The two of you are almost at your chambers, finally turning onto the hallway where the family apartments are housed, when you hear it – a muffled, barely there cry. The sound makes you pause in your tracks, head swiveling, unsure of exactly where it came from and it’s then you notice that the door to Aemond’s chambers is ajar. 
That in and of itself is strange indeed, your little brother valued privacy above all else, so you stride over only to pause at the entrance, hand poised midair as you reach for the door handle. Your heart clenches when another soft sob pierces the quiet of the hallway – a mournful little noise, one you’d expect more from Aegon. 
Turning back to Edyth, you lead her a few feet from the door, knowing Aemond would hate it if he knew someone, anyone aside from you, had overheard him. “Go to the nursery,” you instruct, making sure to keep your voice low, “Make sure Daena is well, then you’re free for the evening.” 
“But, princess, what about –”
“Nevermind it,” you murmur with a shake of your head, “I’ll send for the maester later myself.”
With a nod, she scampers off further down the hallway, leaving you alone by your brother’s door. Stepping back over toward the threshold, you bite at your bottom lip, wondering if you should go in at all – if it would be more merciful to simply pretend you hadn’t heard anything at all. 
But then it happens again, another pitiful sob sounds from beyond the cracked door and you’re unable to help yourself – Aemond had always come to you with his troubles when he was younger, surely now would be no different. With a little breath, you push the door open just enough to slip through it and thank whichever Gods may be listening when you’re able to press it closed with hardly a sound. 
Peeking around the screen your brother has beside the door, it feels as if your heart shatters in your chest. He looks so… small, so fragile, the complete opposite of the towering, formidable man he’d become in recent years. It’s clear he didn’t hear you come in as he stays seated in a chair near the door, his back to you; his shoulders shake with gentle cries while he hunches over, head cradled in his hands. 
The disarray of his normally spotless chambers startles you once you let your eyes flit over the space – papers are strewn about all across the low table he keeps in the little sitting area, some scattered across the floor, crumpled up, or ripped to pieces. His bedsheets are halfway ripped from the bed and lie in a pool at its foot, along with the remnants of a candle, now merely a translucent puddle on the dark stone floor. 
Taking a step forward, you softly call his name, trying your hardest to keep your voice as low and soft as possible, though you’re hardly able to get the first syllable out before he bolts up from the chair with a strangled gasp and spins toward you. 
“Oh, Aem,” the words fall past your lips in a soft sigh, pulled from you by the startled expression on his face – eyes wide with the fear of being caught so vulnerable. His sapphire eye seems to sparkle with just as much emotion as his pale purple one. 
“Sister, I –” He starts, hastily wiping his hands over his cheeks, chest heaving while he tries to calm his harsh breaths, but you’ll have none of that.
“Shh, whatever excuses you have, I’ll not hear them,” you murmur, quickly walking the few feet over to him and enveloping him in a tight embrace, just as you used to do when he would come crying to you about the tortures Aegon or your nephews put him through in their youth.
Your brother stays stiff in your arms for a moment, tense and wary, though he slowly relaxes as you rub a hand over his back, smoothing out his long hair. You yourself relax once he finally winds his long arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder with a soft sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally releasing. 
“Tell me what distresses you so?”
“I… Jae– the boy,” he stammers, stumbling over his name. You understand, just saying your little nephew’s name seems to somehow make the pain of the loss even worse. Yet, something in your gut tells you there’s something else going on, that Jaehaerys’s death is not the only thing causing your brother such anguish.
“Aemond…” you gently press, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, “I cannot help if you won’t tell me–”
“Tell you what?” He counters, tone growing too defensive too quickly, “My nephew’s death brings me sorrow, sister. The loss of a young child is a… distressing thing.”
“You know that’s not what I mean!” You counter, trying desperately to keep your voice calm, even when Aemond backs away from you with an exasperated sigh. You’re no stranger to this game – ever since he lost his eye, your brother has guarded his emotions carefully. Getting him to speak honestly about them was about as hard as keeping a bottle of Dornish wine from Aegon’s grasp. 
He gives you a sidelong glance as he paces about the room, lips pressed into a thin line, jaw clenched. Worry only blooms brighter in your chest the longer you watch him; so agitated and so guarded, closed off like an abused animal. 
“It… it’s nothing,” he mumbles finally, voice short and clipped, “Nothing important, sister, I assure you.”
Unconsciously, you wring your hands worriedly, heart clenching; you want nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, yet you know from experience that it was better to let Aemond come to you. 
“Well, surely it cannot be nothing if it has upset you so, sweetling.” 
His nervous pacing comes to a screeching halt at that and he squeezes his eye shut, fists clenched at his side – his whole body tense like he’s trying desperately to keep some invisible dam within himself closed. 
You reach a hand up instinctively when he bites at his bottom lip and turns his head away from you, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “I–,” he croaks, the tightness in his voice makes your breath hitch in your throat; every maternal cell in your body is screaming at you, pleading with you to hold him, “I don’t w-wish to burden you.”
“Baby brother,” you sigh, finally going to him, practically running the few feet over to where he stands. Your arms encircle him instantly, pulling him into a tight embrace – one hand rubs over his back while the other cups the back of his head, holding his face against the crook of your neck, “You could never be a burden to me, never.”
That seems to break him and he gasps, breathing warm against your neck, before he finally lets go and his shoulders heave with sobs while his hands cling to you desperately, fisting into the fabric of your gown like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. A tightness grows at the back of your own throat, not used to seeing him be this raw, this open, in what feels like lifetimes. It breaks your heart to think he’d been holding all of this in, determined to be the strong, silent soldier like everyone expected, while he dealt with such sadness all alone. 
“Shh, shh, Aemond, you’re okay,” you murmur gently, eyes widening when he sags against you, his knees giving way only for a second. “Here, come,” you instruct, taking one of his hands in yours and leading him to the small seating area in his chambers. You urge him to sit on the sofa he has there before joining him yourself, a bit surprised when he all but throws himself against you again – practically laying his head in your lap as he sobs, cheek pressed against your chest in a way that makes you wince from the tenderness still there, not that you’d ever scold him for it. 
“There, that’s much better, hm? Comfortable?” You ask, simply trying to draw him back to the surface. 
He doesn’t reply, something that doesn’t really come as a shock to you given how harsh his cries are, leaving him breathless against you. Deciding to let him get it out, you stay quiet, merely shushing him every so often as you run your fingers through his pearlescent hair.
After a long while, he seems to settle some and tears begin running down his cheeks silently rather than racking his body with savage cries; he lifts his head from your lap and rests it instead against your shoulder, gazing up at you as if you’re an angel sent from the heavens themselves. The intense tenderness with which he looks at you makes you blush, yet your brows furrow slightly at the darkness still there – lingering in the lilac of his eye. 
“I have… I have done something terrible.”
Your brother's murmured confession only serves to confuse you further and you shake your head slightly, heart clenching in your chest as you silently wonder what in all the Seven Kingdoms he could possibly mean by that. 
“Aemond,” you start, knowing not to pry – to let him tell you, “There is nothing you could ever do that would make me think any less of you.”
He stares up at you for a long moment, eye flicking across your face like he’s checking for even the barest hint of deception, yet he finds none – your words are true. 
“You… promise me you will not hate me.”
“I promise, sweet brother,” your brows pinch together at his words, wondering what could possibly be bad enough for all this, yet you can’t stop the corners of your lips from quirking into a sad smile at his request; that uncertain lilt in his voice reminds you so much of when he was younger, “There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. Nothing.”
“I…” He starts, pulling away from you as he sits up, sparing you one last glance before staring off into the fireplace, “I am the… the reason Jaehaerys is dead.”
“What?” The word is pressed from you, leaving your lips as little more than a breath. You stare at him as if he’d sprouted a second head, utterly perplexed. How in the Seven Hells could he have ever arrived at that conclusion? Taking one of his hands in yours, you lean a little closer, “Sweetling, what in the world do you mean?”
“They were here for me,” Aemond rasps, wincing as if the words themselves are painful, clawing at his throat on their way out, “They were… Gods, they were sent for me and – and when they couldn’t find me, they… H-He died because I was not here, because they could not f-find me…”
“Oh, my love,” you sigh, the backs of your eyes stinging as he presses himself against you again, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, “Aemond, you couldn’t have known, none of us did. You couldn’t have known…” You repeat, like saying the words again and again will make him believe them. 
“I s-should have,” he whimpers, voice breaking over a sob, “I should’ve k-known, I sh–should’ve been here…”
You hold him tightly, practically hauling him onto your lap as his tears leak over your skin, running into the valley of your cleavage like a river, though you pay it no mind. “Shh, sweetling, shh,” you murmur and press a soft kiss to his forehead, “It’s not your fault, dear one, it’s no one’s fault but the vile men who took him and our… our coward of a sister who ordered it done.”
He stays silent for a moment and you can feel the gears in his brain turning, working furiously as he tries to internalize your words, wanting desperately to believe them but unable to let himself. You sigh softly when you feel him shake his head against you, so determined to cling to guilt. 
“If… if I had n-not been at the…” 
“At the where, brother?” You press, clinging to anything you may be able to use to shift the conversation. 
“...The brothel…” he mumbles after a long pause, the words so muffled against the column of your neck that you have to strain to hear them. His words shock you, the complete opposite of anything you’d been expecting. You try your hardest not to let that show, even as a strange sense of jealousy wells up within you – a sense of possessiveness you’ve always felt for your little brother.
“Well, you… you are a man grown, my love,” you heart hammers in your chest, loud enough that you wonder if he can hear it, “If you wish to lay with–”
“I didn’t… I–” He stammers, clinging to you tightly as he shakes his head, an urgency in his voice you can’t quite place, “That’s not what, I… I mean, I–”
“No matter,” you cut him off, aching to see him so distressed, “Whatever you do there, sweet brother, it’s your… right to do it.” You struggle to get the words out, the sense of protectiveness rising viciously in your chest makes your throat feel tight. 
He lifts his head from your shoulder again and eyes you for a long moment – for what, you aren’t sure. It’s almost like he’s surprised not to be meant with disgust or contempt; you wish you knew why.
“It doesn’t matter,” he finally mumbles, glancing away from you, ashamed, “I should’ve been home… I should’ve been here to protect my family.”
“Aemond, please,” you sigh and sit up slightly, moving to cup his cheeks in your hands, wiping at his tears with your thumb, “It is not your job to protect us, we have guards for a reason… if anything, this atrocity is their fault but it is not yours, do you understand?” Your eyes bore into his as you speak, desperate to make him understand, to rid him of this misplaced guilt. 
“Do… do you still love me?” He asks after a long moment, voice so timid, so meek like he’s already preparing himself for your rejection, that it makes your heart twist horribly in your chest. 
Still, you cannot help but huff out a little laugh, lips lifting into a sad smile at the utter ridiculousness of the question. “You are my dearest brother,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss against his forehead, letting your lips linger on his skin for a second, “Of course, I still love you, Aemond. I have loved you from the moment you came into this world and I shall never, never stop – the Gods themselves could not make me.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment, save for a small hum from your brother as he nods. His arms encircle you again and selfishly, you enjoy it – being this close to him again, like he was a little boy once more. He’d been all but attached to you at the hip before that dreadful night, following you about the Keep and telling you all sorts of tales about various histories of the Realm in that sweet voice of his. 
All of that had stopped that night and, at first, you had assumed that he merely thought himself a man grown afterwards – a man who had finally claimed a dragon, a man who no longer needed comfort from an older sibling. The sadness in his voice when he speaks again, muffled against your shoulder, tells you otherwise.
“Mother doesn’t love me anymore,” his voice is flat and detached as he breathes out the words, like he’s informing you of some tragic, unavoidable accident. 
“Aem, of course she does. She loves you very–”
“No,” he cuts you off, sitting up once more and shaking his head, “Ever since that business with Luke, I… she can hardly bring herself to look at me. She won’t speak to me outside of Small Council meetings and even then she tries not to, ‘tis plain to see.”
You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes, leaving you to swallow around the lump that grows at the back of your throat once again. What are you to say? He’s… Gods, bless him, he’s right, you’ve seen as much to know. 
“You are the only one who has never abandoned me,” he starts, eye sparkling in the candlelight as tears begin welling up within it once more, “Everyone else has left.”
“That’s not…” Your voice fades as you sigh, knowing that arguing with him now will do no good. Instead, you simply hold him tighter and brush a few stray locks of hair from his face. “I can promise that I shall never leave you, sweet brother.”
He grows quiet for a moment, slumping down against you until his head rests in your lap and his body curls up onto the sofa. Silently, you resist the urge to cradle him, to hold him against you as you do Daena when she wakes from a nap with a start, crying out from her cradle. 
He is a grown man, you remind yourself, yet it does nothing to stop the strange ache in your heart. 
“They all used to taunt me, surely you remember, when we were younger,” he mumbles, eye fixated on the fire crackling in the hearth, even as he clings to you, “First for not having a dragon, then for not having an eye.”
You hum in affirmation – you do remember it, sadly. You remember it all very well; he had slept in your chambers for a week after the incident with the pig, not wanting to be left alone at night with the memories of it. You remember having to hold him back at the table when Aegon had poked fun at his eyepatch during supper, about a month after his eye had been gouged out. 
You remember that night too, when he’d come to you with tearful apologies, murmuring sorries again and again for accidentally nicking your hand while trying to brandish a knife against his brother. 
“I have always been an outcast.”
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips despite the circumstances and you sigh softly, brushing your fingers through his long strands of hair, “I quite like you being different… perhaps if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be as close, hm?”
Aemond goes quiet at that, stills in your lap with a little sigh before simply burrowing against you even more, curling in on himself tighter. 
A soft coo leaves your lips, strands of his long hair passing between your fingers like silk. “What say you stay with me tonight, yes?” You offer, the thought of him in the dark carrying all this alone grief makes you feel ill, “We could even cuddle, if you like? Just as we did when you were younger.”
A short beat of silence later, all you get is a little, “Yes, please,” mumbled against your abdomen. 
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“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs later, the two of you finally lying together atop your bed, cuddled closely against one another just as you’d promised. You’d each taken time to get ready for bed and Aemond seems a little better for it, no longer as distressed and teary now that he’s had the time to collect himself. 
Your hand carefully cups the side of his face that isn’t pressed against your pillow, that isn’t buried in the crook of your neck, as an astonished huff of laughter escapes your lips as they curve into a sad smile, your brows furrowed. “Why in the world would you think such things?” Even as the question is whispered into the quiet of your chambers, you know the answer – Aemond has always been this way, always one to reject comfort, even when it is so freely given, even when he himself seeks it out. 
If only he could see himself as you do. 
“I… I have done so many shameful things, sister, I…” His voice breaks when he cuts himself off and you can feel him tense in your hold, “‘Tis the simple truth, I don’t deserve you.”
You hum softly, combing your fingers through his hair while you mull over his words, silently wondering why he has always been like this – why you have always felt so unworthy of softness and kindness and love. 
“Well, it is not my truth,” you murmur after a moment, eyes flicking over the long line of his body, hidden by your silken bedsheets. In the time each of you had taken to ready yourselves for bed, you had changed into a nightgown and he into a simple nightshirt, leaving your bare legs to tangle together, “Would you like to know what I think, my love?”
You feel him inhale against the crook of your neck, sucking in air like he’s steeling himself for disappointment, yet he still lifts his head and peers up at you. His lilac eye searches your face for a long moment, looking for even the smallest indication of displeasure in your features, only to find none. 
Seemingly satisfied with his assessment, assured that surely whatever you were to say would not hurt him too badly, he nods. 
Sitting up just enough to better see his face, you look at him with nothing but adoration as the two of you rest shoulder to shoulder, backs against the headboard. “I believe you deserve every kindness in the world, Aemond. And I believe even that would be too little,” your voice is hardly a whisper when you speak, like this is the deepest of secrets meant only for his ears, “You deserve nothing but happiness, sweet baby brother.”
He stares at you for a long moment, eye wide and glassy while his chest aches as your words seep into him like a soothing balm. You can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows, eye squeezing shut for a moment while he processes your words – so sweet they nearly stung. 
A soft coo bubbles from your lips when you see his chest rise and fall rapidly beneath the linen of his nightshirt, and you lean into him all the more when one of his hands reaches out and grabs one of your own, squeezing it like it’s a lifeline. 
“Shh,” you soothe, giving him a sad smile when his eye finally opens again, gaze immediately finding yours, “Sweet boy.”
He lets out a shuddering breath before looking away from you once again, mind reeling. Not knowing what to do, overcome with so much emotion his heart feels as if it’s adrift at sea, he brings your hand up and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles before holding it to his cheek and sucking in another little breath as his bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t ever leave me,” he whispers finally, voice tight and hoarse. 
Cupping his face, you caress your thumb over the scar beneath his eye softly and lean over just enough to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “I will never leave you, Aemond, I swear it.”
He shudders once more before letting out a shaky breath, eye filled with a wild desperation. Before you can register the movement, his hands are suddenly gripping at your waist and hauling you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his, as he buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, apologies already muffled against your skin. “I-I’m sorry, I – Gwayne will… will hate me but –”
“Shh, sh, sh, sweetling,” you murmur, despite the small, barely audible gasp that leaves you at the sudden movement, so wholly unused to this as half of you tries desperately to comfort you while the other half wonders if you should put a stop to this, “Gwayne knows, my love, he… it’s okay, he knows.”
A sob is wrenched from Aemond’s lips, warm against your neck, but he nods nonetheless, sighing when you begin carding your fingers through his hair once more, smoothing out the long, pale strands. Slowly, he relaxes again, arms wound securely around your waist while his breath evens out. 
You’re about to say something else, though your breath hitches in your throat when he begins peppering your neck with soft, chaste little kisses – feather-light down the column of your neck. He stops after a second, noticing you tense up on his lap, eyes wide as a million thoughts swirl in your mind: Is this okay? Should you stop this? This is your precious baby brother, the one who used to cling to your skirts when he was sad, who used to come to you in the night when he woke from a nightmare… 
He leans forward once more and nips at your earlobe, making your heart stutter in your chest, “Can… can I try something?”
Your head reels at the sudden change in his touches, needier now, though for an entirely different reason, yet still your mind reels – piqued with curiosity. “What is it you wish to try?” You question after a moment, voice scratchy from the sudden dryness at the back of your throat. 
Silently, Aemond relishes this; something about you, you his normally strong and carefree older sister, being this flustered because of him makes his heart flutter in his chest. Dipping his head, he resumes pressing soft kisses against your skin, though they linger now – teeth nipping before he soothes the small bites with a swipe of his tongue, drawing ever closer to the pulse point in your neck that beats so wildly he can feel it beneath your skin. 
“Aemond!” You all but wheeze when he suddenly grabs at your hips, his own firmly bucking up against you. A shock goes down your spine at the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, two thin layers of fabric doing precious little to mask the feel of it. Again, you tense up, practically jumping out of your skin as you pull back just enough to gaze down at him, your eyes wide, blinking rapidly, as they search his. 
This was the last thing you expected tonight, the last thing you’d expect from him at all. “Wha – I…” You stammer, dumbstruck while worry and uncertainty cloud your mind. 
Aemond shushes you now, long fingers squeezing at your bare thighs now that your nightgown has ridden up enough to reveal them. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs soothingly against your skin, “Do you trust me…?”
Your throat bobs as you swallow thickly, heart hammering in your chest. You should be the one comforting him… what in the Seven Hells has happened? Is… is this the comfort he needs now?
Even still, you nod your head at his question; of course you trust him, you’d trust him with anything… even this. 
A smile grows on his lips when you acquiesce, a pleased glimmer in his eye when he lifts his hands to your hips again, his grip firmer this time. “Good… good, sweet sister,” he hums lowly, rutting his hips up against you once more, lilac eye watching you with keen interest. 
“A-Aem…” You gasp once more, the feel of him against you so intense it sends a shiver down your spine, even when your brows furrow as your eyes flutter, threatening to slip shut. His movements press a small whimper from your lips and you can feel the sting in your cheeks as they flush, chest heaving while your hands grab tightly at his shoulders. 
The smug look on his face slowly morphs into one of wonder and his eye flits over your face greedily, like he doesn’t want to miss a single second of seeing you like this – already so strung out over him. 
He moves again, the feeling of your soft core pressing against his growing length through the thin linen only serving to drive his urges further. “Gods, you look so beautiful like this…” He murmurs, in awe at having you like this, and all to himself. Unable to help himself, he leans forward yet again and pulls you closer as his lips settle once more against your neck. 
Instinctually, your head tilts to the side, giving him room to kiss over your skin. His movements against you cause you to shiver in his grasp, even if a small part of you was still uncertain, hoping this wouldn’t change your relationship with him for the worse. 
The slow grind of his hips causes his nightshirt to eventually ride up his legs as well, and you gasp anew, jumping once more when his length suddenly presses against your center, unhindered by fabric. 
“Feel what you do to me?” He purrs, letting out a low groan of his own. 
For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted ever so slightly while your chest heaves, silently wondering if this is truly happening. Almost imperceptibly, you nod your head, shuddering at the feeling of his cock pressed against you, already twitching. 
“L-Little brother,” you gasp, breathless already.
Aemond smirks at your response, your whimpers and soft gasps going right to his head. He grabs at your waist still, bucking against you in slow, almost teasing movements. A low, pleased hum vibrates him in his chest when he feels how wet you are against him – the heat radiating from your center nearly stifling. 
The longer this goes on, the more you can feel your resolve crumbling, any small bits left of you that wanted to put a stop to this slowly fading away. Distantly, you can’t help wondering if this is how it’s always been meant to be, if this was the only logical conclusion your paths could reach, the outcome of such a close bond. Perhaps, you have always been made for this. 
“Aemond,” his name falls from your lips in a soft sigh and you finally lean against him heavily, pressing your chest against his unthinkingly. “Shit!” You gasp only a second later, jolting as if stung by a bee, brought back to reality by the ache in your breasts. 
“Sister?” Aemond questions, freezing beneath you while he looks over your face, his hands rising to cup your cheeks protectively. 
You start to answer, to explain, when you feel a sudden tingling sensation at your chest and, judging from the look on your brother’s face, an explanation would be a moot point by now anyway.
“Gods grant me mercy,” he sighs, eye wider than you’ve ever seen it as he stares, near open-mouthed, at your chest. Glancing down, your cheeks flush at the sight of milk dampening the linen at your breasts, leaving it all but translucent. 
Again, you go to explain, only to stop yourself in your tracks when his tongue darts out, licking over his bottom lip. Your head spins when you notice his chest heaving as he stares at you with a nearly savage hunger, eyes fixed on your breasts like his universe has been narrowed down to a pinpoint. 
“Aemond?”
“Please,” he groans, swallowing thickly and licking over his lips once more, practically salivating. His eye flicks up to yours for only the briefest of seconds before zeroing in on your chest once more, “Sweet… sweet sister, please.”
Again, the energy in the room seems to shift, Aemond once again begging you for comfort, bowing to your whims. Quickly, you shush him while one hand threads into his hair once more as you bring his head back against the crook of your neck, settling him there while he groans against your skin, rough hands slowly trailing up your waist before halting at your ribs. 
Your other hand busies itself with snaking between the two of you and impatiently batting your clothes away before your fingers finally curl around his length, causing the both of you to let out soft cries. 
“Shh, sweetling,” you coo, chest heaving while you position him at your entrance, sighing as he desperately mouths at your neck, “I know what you need, I’ve got you.”
Again, twin moans fill your dimly lit chambers when you slowly sink down on him. Whimpers are punched from your lungs at the feel of him steadily filling you, his chest rumbling against yours as he groans deeply, hips jolting beneath you. 
“Gods,” you sigh when your hips are finally pressed tightly against his once more, panting and letting your eyes fall shut while you give yourself a moment to adjust. 
The feel of him borders on overwhelming – pressed so tightly inside of you, around you, the very air in your room filled with the heady, herbaceous scent of the bath oils you know he favors. You imagine he must feel the same as he trembles beneath you, fingers and hips twitching with barely contained desire. 
Finally, your need to comfort him, to protect him even from himself, rears its head again and you relish the breathy sigh that leaves him as you begin to move your hips. It’s a grinding motion, soft and gentle – what he needs now, to be treated with care. Still, the movements send shockwaves up your spine as the pale hairs at the base of his cock rub perfectly against your pearl, creating a delicious friction to spur you on. 
“So good,” he breathes, warm against your shoulder as he leans forward, kissing at your neck, “You feel so good, sister, you… you are s-so good to me…”
“Just as you deserve,” you murmur, combing your fingers through his long hair once more before your hands travel down to the hem of his nightshirt and you begin impatiently tugging at it, pulling it over his head and grinning at the soft, nearly petulant, whine he gives at having to separate from you even for a second. 
Still, some instinctual force seems to drive you, a need to feel his skin against your own, and you waste no time before pulling your own nightgown up and over your head as well, leaving nothing to separate the two of you. 
The groan that leaves him when your chest presses back against his own once more is like nothing you’ve heard before – a sound of the purest relief, like he’s found some oasis in the desert. His eye opens again and the rhythm of your hips stutters only for a second once it finds yours. The lilac is almost completely overtaken by black and yet, he still regards you as if you are an angel sent from the heavens themselves, stares at you with such reverence that your heart flutters in your chest. 
Something clicks for you then as he whimpers beneath you, his own hips beginning to buck up against your own as the lazy tempo you’ve settled into slowly starts to pick up. You understand, now, that this is merely another step, an added turn, in the so carefully balanced dance the two of you have constructed.
And if this is what he needs to be comforted, then you’re more than happy to give it. 
“My good boy,” sigh, moving against him with renewed vigor, grinning when he lets out a hitched moan, “Is this what you needed?”
“Yes, y-yes,” he nods, his eye never leaving your own as he ruts beneath you, the choppy movements only adding to the fire slowly building within your veins, “Please, sweet sister, please…”
You don’t need to ask to know what it is he means, nodding before he has time to stutter out another word, “Take what you need, my love.”
Another breathy groan sounds from him as he quickly descends onto your chest, tilting his head down and immediately capturing your sensitive nipple between his lips, one hand coming up to gently cup your breast, holding it steady. The feeling of relief that flows through you when he starts suckling is nearly disorienting, the dull ache in your breast slowly fading away with each mouthful of milk he pulls from you, greedily taking a few mouthfuls from one breast before switching to the other.
Your fingers stay anchored in his hair while your hips work against him, your high building more steadily within you now that your breasts no longer feel ready to burst. You pant as you gaze down at him, eyes half-lidded while you watch his lips move against you, lilac eye still fixated on you. 
Below you, Aemond is halfway convinced he’s died and somehow the Gods have seen fit to spare him the Seven Hells. His head spins as he drinks from you, the taste of you by far the sweetest, most decadent thing he could fathom. As the knot in his belly grows ever-tighter, his suckles become more greedy, frantic, not knowing whether you’ll allow him this pleasure ever again. 
“Please, f-fuck,” he sighs, the words punched from his lips as he pulls away from you just enough to speak, uncaring as dribbles of milk leak from the corners of his lips, staining your skin. His hips practically move on their own accord as he mindlessly grinds up into you, seeking out the warmth and safety he knows he shall only ever feel within you. 
Above him, you nod, swallowing thickly against the dryness at the back of your throat, cheeks flushed while you watch him unravel. Snaking a hand between your bodies once more, your fingers quickly find your sensitive, aching bud and rubbing at it with a practiced precision. 
“Gods, sweet little brother,” you breathe out, pleasure zapping down your spine. You frantically nod again, frantic this time, just as your high washes over you, “Come, Aemond… Gods, let go, little one.”
His suckles turn more into little biting nips while he gasps against you, trembling beneath you when he finally lets pleasure overtake him – eye squeezing shut at the feel of your walls clenching tightly around his cock. 
The warmth of him filling you only spurs you on more, your breaths ragged against his forehead while you feel yourself tense and relax again and again, grabbing at whatever parts of him you can reach. 
You each go still after a few moments, panting against each other. Aemond is practically limp beneath you, lazily nuzzling his face against your chest, satiated smile just barely tugging at the corners of his lips. Chuckling softly, you pepper his forehead in sweet kisses, relishing the contented hum he gives in return. 
When you go to get up however, intent on fetching a cloth to clean you both up with, he reaches for you with a small whine as he grabs at your thighs.
“Don’t, please,” he murmurs, brows furrowed when your eyes meet, “Stay…”
“You… you want to stay like this?” You question, your heartbeat quickening as he quickly nods, “You wish to stay –”
“Inside,” he finishes quickly, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows bashfully, cheeks flushed, “I… I feel safe like… like this.”
“Then you can stay, silly boy,” you answer with a grin, kissing at his forehead once more, “Here, let’s just…” You murmur, tilting your hips to the side ever so slightly, attempting to pull him with you.
Blessedly, he seems to understand and follows you willingly, allowing you to maneuver the two of you onto your sides. After a moment, you’re comfortable once more, each of you lying on your side and facing the other, one of your legs slung over his narrow hips to keep him pressed tightly within you. 
“Good boy,” you sigh softly, smiling when he shivers against you. 
The two of you stay like that for a while, your hands gently caressing his soft skin or running through his hair while you hold him against you. After a while, his lilac eye finally flutters closed and you can’t help but marvel at how much younger he looks like this – relaxed and spent while he lies against you, like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. 
After a while, he seems to grow restless again, nosing at your chest until he finds what he desires. You sigh softly as he pulls a nipple into his mouth once more, suckling at it contentedly while he peers up at you sleepily. 
“There you go,” you murmur soothingly, coaxing him to lift his head just enough for you to lay an arm beneath it, allowing you to caress his shoulders while your other hand cups gently at the side of his face, thumb sweeping over his soft skin. “Take what you need, sweet one,” you coo, smiling as he quickly returns his lips to your breast, “You’re safe, I’ve got you…”
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thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)
consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!
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natashashill · 2 months ago
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mama’s girl
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pairing: perv neighbor!agatha x reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ kinda dun-con, manipulation, pervy acts: stealing underwear and hidden camera, guided masturbation, guided a lot of things actually, lots of titty sucking (& play), pussy eating & fingering, orgasm control, bondage, marking, possessive agatha, edging, age gap, & stalking lmk if i missed anything
a/n: this is definitely a dark fic so read at your own risk! also just a reminder that my page is not for minors <3
summary: you introduced yourself to your new neighbor and she takes a liking to you
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You had moved into a new apartment after graduating college, and decided to introduce yourself to people living across the hall. You were absolutely thrilled when the door opened, and an older brunette woman opened the door. All thoughts of yours went out the window as she greeted you hello.
“Hi- Hi! I’m Y/N, I just moved in across the hall and I just wanted to introduce myself. I- uh made you some cookies as a sign of good faith. I’m trying to make some friends or uh at least friendly faces. Umm yeah so if you ever need anything I’ll be across the hall.”
“Thank you very much sweetheart. That’s quite a sweet gesture hun. Why don’t I tell you what, why don’t we do dinner sometime together? Would that be okay with you sweetness?”
“Yes! We can do dinner at mine this Friday at 7 if that works, I’ve been meaning to try out a few recipes if that’s okay with you.”
“Perfectly fine, I’ll see you on Friday honey.”
You giddly skipped back to your room, unaware of the thoughts swirling in Agatha’s head. You had made quite the impression on her. After you left, Agatha had to take quite a few breaths after seeing you. You were such a sweet and innocent sight, and she just had to have you for herself. She couldn’t wait for Friday, she had the perfect opportunity to start leaving her claim on you. She took a bite out of your cookie, and fuck, she couldn’t wait for Friday. 
The rest of the week dragged around slowly for both of you. You couldn’t shake your hot neighbor out of your head, although you felt guilty for crushing on her. Opposingly, Agatha has been keeping tabs on you, she’s found where you work and found your socials online. She spent a significantly long time through your Instagram, enjoying herself while discovering the bikini pics you’ve posted from your last vacation.
When it’s time to head over on Friday, she carries a larger than necessary bag. You let her inside, your stomach swirling at the sight of her dressed up. She greets you with a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and your breath catches in your throat. She hands you a bottle of wine she brought over, and you hurriedly rush into the kitchen to break it open. She uses this opportunity to take a look around your house, finding her way into the bedroom. She immediately starts on pulling out the secret camera she brought, placing it onto one of your picture frames facing your bed. Making sure you didn’t come back, she starts going through your drawers until she finds your underwear drawer, digging through and grabbing a few to take home. She stuffs them into her purse and starts to take a look around your room, observing all the decorations you have up. 
You walk into your room and see her observing a picture of yours.
“Agatha? What are you doing in here?”
“Oh sweetheart, forgive me. I was trying to find your bathroom to freshen up and came in here instead. I saw these adorable pictures and got distracted.”
A small blush forms at your cheeks at her comments and you guide her back towards your living room. She flashes you a grateful smile at the glass of wine and you can feel yourself falling for her with every passing moment. Dinner went smoothly, and you sighed in relief when Agatha showed signs that she enjoyed your food. She moaned out in delight at your cooking, and your cheeks flushed even further when your mind thought of where else she would make those noises. Dessert continued to be a success and she thanked you for the beautiful meal. 
You both talk for quite a bit that night, Agatha trying to find out anything she could about you. You found it sweet how Agatha took so much interest in you, asking you many questions about your life. You answered her questions honestly and started rambling about your life to her. Agatha looked at you so sweetly but there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. You brushed it off, blaming it on the wine. Agatha’s delighted at all the information you gave for her including that you’re single, you started a new job as a receptionist, and you’ve just moved here away from most of your friends and family. The night goes swimmingly with both of you laughing and chatting about work and it’s past midnight when Agatha leaves your apartment. She heads straight to the bedroom, not bothering to take off her shoes before unzipping her dress and taking one of your panties out of her bag. 
She starts to grind against your panties, the lace feeling heavenly against her clit as she moans out your name. The thoughts of you tonight flashing your precious eyes at her takes her over the edge, and she collapses against her bed, she decides she’ll clean up tomorrow.
She runs into you tomorrow while you’re about to leave your apartment, finding you dressed up in a tight dress and some heels.
“Oh, hi Agatha. I’m headed out for a date right now. This girl asked me out today while I was getting my coffee. I have to go now but I’ll see you around. We should grab dinner sometime, I’ll text you!”
Agatha bids you goodbye, wishing you good luck before entering her place and heading straight to the bedroom. She fishes out another pair of panties of yours and puts it on while grabbing a vibrator and placing over her clothed clit, grinding and bucking as her juices leaked out and into your panties. She pulls out her phone and opens the app connected to the camera in your room. She scrolls back to the footage from earlier today, watching you get ready. She nearly came as soon as she saw you, but took her time as she watched you get ready, enjoying the way your precious body looked. Her orgasm fell over her in waves, desperation rolled over her as she had to have you. 
The next time you both get together, Agatha makes sure to dress to get your attention. She knows that you have a small crush on her, but she needs you desperate for her. It seemed to have worked, as Agatha noticed your eyes on her the entire night, even stuttering over your words a little when she decided to hold eye contact with you. Your heart nearly stopped when she went to wipe a food stain near your lips, licking her finger before gently wiping it off. She pats your cheek before she heads back to your seat, and she knows she has you hooked. 
“So honey, how’s everything going with you? Anyone you’ve been intimate with recently? You’ve been going on quite a few dates.”
Your face heats up at her question and you just duck your head out of embarrassment. You’ve never actually had sex with someone before and you were sure Agatha would laugh at you, obviously she was expecting to share and reflect on details of both of your sex lives. You look up at her sheepishly and she tilts her head curiously.
“I- uh well, I’ve never actually had sex with someone. It sounds stupid but I’ve never found someone to do it with and I’m too scared I’ll be bad at it now.”
“Oh sweetheart, you poor thing. Let me help you sweetheart. I’ll teach you all you need to know and show you exactly what it feels like.”
“You would do that for me? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you’re probably not interested in a girl like me.”
“Nonsense sweetheart. I’ll help a sweet thing like you out. We can start off with weekly lessons and adjust as needed, we can do them on Fridays, right around this time. Here, why don’t we just get started right now. I want you to undress for me sweetheart while making eye contact, and take your time with it.”
You followed her directions exactly, locking eyes with her while slowly lifting your shirt up. At the pleased smile on her face, you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you half-naked under her gaze. 
“Very good sweetheart, now why don’t you take off your bra for me. We’ll start easy for today, only playing with your boobs. A very important rule I have sweetheart, is that you will not touch yourself unless I give you permission, do you understand me? I don’t want you to explore by yourself sweetheart, you might hurt yourself.”
You nodded while undoing the clasp for the bra, letting your perky boobs show. 
“Very good darling, now I want you to hold them and move them around slowly, and see how it feels.”
“Feels good.”
“Oh and one more thing sweetheart, you’re going to start addressing me as mommy from now on, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes mommy, I understand.”
“Good girl, go ahead and squeeze them for me. Take your time and squeeze.”
You were a bit confused and tried to squeeze them but it didn’t feel right. 
“Here honey, let me help you. Just hold your tits up for me sweetheart, I’ll show you how to pleasure yourself.”
You feel a certain wetness as she walks over to you and grabs both of your tits with your hands. You let her squeeze and grab and pull as she wanted, the pleasure clouding over your brain. 
“Now sweetheart, I’m going to lick your nipples okay? I promise you’re going to feel so good baby, let mommy show you.”
You nodded and she brings her mouth to your left tit, engulfing your perked up nipple. You let out a small moan when you feel her start to suck. You can feel her smirk and chuckle around your nipple and let out a small apology. 
“No need sweetheart. Moan as loud as you want for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises coming out of your mouth.”
With that she switches over to your right nipple, giving just as much attention as she gave your left. You let out breathy moans for her and she starts to suck even harder. She guides you to lay down on the sofa while worshipping your breasts, making sure you’d be thinking about her for the next week.
She pulls away from your tits, a trail of saliva connecting her mouth to you before she eagerly connects your lips. She moans into the kiss as she sucks at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth letting her inside. She completely dominates the kiss and it turns you fuzzy. You kiss back passionately, trying to please her the best you could. She doesn’t let you breathe, too focused on claiming your lips. She eventually pulls away, pupils dilated and breath heavy. 
“Baby, it’s your turn now. I want you to practice what you just learned, okay? Practice on mama sweetheart.”
Agatha pulls down her zipper and exposes her tits to you, she had omitted her bra for the night. She guided your head to one of her nipples, and you eagerly latched on. You loved this position, being so close to Agatha had your mind blanking. The only thing you could think about was staying close to Agatha, your hands roaming her tits, exploring and playing as you eagerly continued sucking on Agatha. You switched your mouth over to her other nipples and renewed sucking, moaning at the action. Agatha couldn’t believe her luck, how easily you fell into her, and how much you loved this. It would be so easy to just have you spread your legs apart and let Agatha finger you have you fall apart on her lap. The thought had her mind reeling and she realized it was time to cut it off for the night, before she couldn't control herself anymore. 
When she pulls you away, you look up at her pouting, eager to go back to what you were doing. Agatha tells you it’s enough for the first lesson, and we can carry on next week. She gently cups your cheek before kissing you goodbye. You stand up with her, putting on your bra before seeing her out the door. You give a small wave goodbye before heading into bed, your mind running blank at the events of the evening. The rest of the week went no better for you, you could barely focus on work, only thinking about the next time you would see Agatha. 
Agatha was seeming to handle the gap a lot better than you, using your lacy underwear and her toys to get herself while thinking of how easily you trusted her to touch you. She couldn’t wait for your lesson this week.
When Friday rolled around, you put on your prettiest set of lingerie, hoping it would impress Agatha. You were a skimpy dress, one that would be easier for Agatha. You had everything perfectly set up for when she arrived, and now you were just waiting for her to knock on your door. See Agatha wanted to fuck with you a bit, she knew that you’d be so eager and pliant for her, but she had to keep you just as desperate for her. She purposely arrived a few minutes late, knowing your brain would be just that much happier to see her. 
You welcomed her with a hug before moving back to the couch, waiting for her next move. You were surprised to see her sit so close to you, but you weren’t complaining when you saw the low cut top she was wearing again. 
“Now sweetheart, today’s lesson is going to be very up close and personal. I need you to trust mommy to show you what to do and let mommy make the best decisions for you, alright? As a reward, if you’re good for mama, I’ll let you play with mama’s nipples again. You be good for me and you can play again since you liked that so much.”
“Yes, mommy. I’ll be good for you.”
“That’s my girl, let’s get you out of this dress hm?” When Agatha saw what you wore underneath your dress, she was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you were trying to seduce her, “What’s this sweetheart? You were trying to get mommy all worked up hm? Did you think this would help you?”
“No- no mommy. I just wanted you to like me and I thought you would like it if I wore something pretty.”
Agatha smiled at you, of course you had just wanted to please her, you were her innocent girl after all.
“Alright sweetheart, I’m going to remove your panties now. I want you to keep your hands on the couch when I touch you.”
You placed your palms firmly on the couch, gripping tighter as Agatha got closer to your core. She used a finger to swirl and stroke around your entrance but she never entered. She played around like that for a few minutes, watching how wet you quickly became. She gently pushed a finger into you, delighted at the load gasp you let out. She placed a gentle kiss to your thigh before pushing her finger deeper and then pulling it back out. Agatha repeated the motion for a bit, letting you get used to the intrusion, before picking up the pace and watching the way your face contorted in pleasure. She continued the pace for a bit before slipping in another finger. 
You started to let out loud moans of her name, unable to control yourself with this new feeling inside of you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, and your moans continued to grow loader. Agatha watched how easily you took her fingers, throbbing and pulsing around them. She could tell you were getting closer to an orgasm and removed her fingers. She brought them up to her mouth to taste, and she couldn’t control her moan at how good you tasted. 
“You did so well for me baby. I’m going to show you something else babygirl and then I’ll let you have a turn with mommy okay? Stay good for me, you’re my perfect angel.”
At that, Agatha took her thumb to your clit, before pressing down. You let out a yelp at that, and she swirled her thumb around in apology. She kept playing around, enjoying how nicely you moaned for her, and how desperate your pussy was with the way it was clenching around nothing. She decided to taste you from the source, replacing her thumb with her tongue and swirling delicately around your sensitive nub. You moaned even louder at that and Agatha chuckled directly into you. She continued her teasing, bringing her tongue down your slit, licking a few stripes before teasing your entrance and then pulling away all together. 
Your mouth hung open trying to catch your breath when Agatha pulled away, and she knew she had you right where she wanted you. 
“Alright baby, you were so good for me. I’ll let you pick your reward honey. Do you wanna play with mama’s boobs or her pussy?”
“Umm, I don’t know mommy, what if I’m not good at playing with your pussy? I like playing with your boobs.”
“Oh sweetheart, how about you give it a chance alright? I’ll let you play extra with my boobs if it’ll make you feel better.”
You nod at her, and she leans back against the couch with her leg spread open. 
“Okay baby, why don’t you kneel in front of me. It’ll make things easier for you.”
Ever so obedient, you immediately kneel in front, and make your way to undo her skirt. Agatha helps you in ridding her skirt and underwear, before spreading her legs open for you, allowing you to see her glistening pussy.
“Now baby, I’ll give you a few minutes to let you play however you want, but when I tell you to, enter two of your fingers inside of me okay?”
You nod before letting your fingers roam through her slit, sliding through a few times before reaching her clit. When you peer up at Agatha, she’s breathing heavily so you assume you’re doing something right. You gently rub at her clit, smiling when she lets out a moan. Agatha snakes a hand into your hair, and you let that be your sign to continue. 
“Baby, I want you to go inside me now okay? Mommy wants to feel good.”
You slipped two fingers inside and started pumping them inside. The hand in your hair tightened and you continued your pace, spurred on by her moans. You continue to finger her but your mouth can’t resist the sight of clit. You take it into your mouth and Agatha nearly screams at the sensation.
“Oh, oh just like that angel. You’re making me feel so good sweetheart, I’m so close angel just keep going. So good for me honey.” 
You double your efforts, desperate to please her. In a couple more sucks, you feel a warm liquid gush out of Agatha and you eagerly lap it up, becoming addicted to the taste. She gently pulls you away from her core and into her lap. 
“Oh my darling, you were such a good girl for me baby. Do you want mommy’s boobs now? You can have anything you like doll.”
“I want your boobies mommy, but I have a question for you.”
“What is it baby?”
“What was the liquid at the end, I didn’t have that when you were playing with me mommy.”
“Oh honey. That's what happens with you have an orgasm. I haven’t given you one yet because I want you to be able to focus on properly learning sweetheart. I was going to introduce orgasms to you at our next lesson.”
You nodded at her before tugging at her top, begging to see her tits again. Agatha removes her top and bra for you, and you eagerly dive in. She lets you rest against her as you seek her out and she sighs in relief. Her plan was falling nicely into place and she couldn’t be happier. Before long, Agatha realized how late it was for you and decided to call it a night. She pressed a gentle kiss to you before leaving, promising how good the next lesson will be for you if you remembered her rules. You promised her before shutting the door behind her. 
You immediately headed into the shower to try and calm down. Everything about tonight made your head spin and you didn’t want to be apart from Agatha. You tucked yourself to bed and hoped that this week would fly by.
Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t escape the curiosity of an orgasm. You wanted to know what it felt like and you weren’t sure if you could wait all the way until Friday. You laid down in bed fully naked. You felt really awkward doing this, it didn’t feel anything remote to what you were doing with Agatha, that was what made you excited. 
Your finger approached your core and you weren’t even sure what to do first. You let yourself explore for a few minutes but it didn’t feel anything close to how Agatha had touched you. Rubbing your clit didn’t help much either, and you groaned out in frustration. All of a sudden you realized you had broken Agatha’s rules. Suddenly you shot out of bed and started panicking. What if she stopped seeing you after this because you became her bad girl? You burst out into tears and realized you needed to see her right now. Little did you know, Agatha watched the whole thing go down through her camera. She had been checking up on you to make sure you were obeying her, and she was thoroughly disappointed to see you breaking her rules. What she didn’t expect even more was you knocking at her door, half naked in tears. 
She ushered you inside and brought you in for a hug, trying to figure out what happened.
“Mommy, I’m so sorry. I- I’m so sorry mommy. I was a bad girl. I messed up. I’m so sorry you have to forgive me, I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ll never do anything like this again, please don’t hate me mama.”
Agatha took pity on you and decided to take it easy on you. “What do you mean baby? What happened sweetheart? I would never hate you.”
“I- I broke your rule,” you hiccuped between words, completely overwhelmed with your current situation. “I was curious about what you said about orgasming and I wanted to see what it was and practice on myself. I didn’t even get to touch myself very well because it didn’t feel like when you did it but I still broke your rule and I’m sorry.”
You were wailing at this point and Agatha felt sorry for you. Did she hate that you disobeyed her? Yes. However she was just going to edge you once before letting you orgasm.
“Oh my darling, you’re still my girl sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m disappointed in you but you’ll just take a punishment and if you behave through your punishment, I’ll show you an orgasm.”
You immediately agreed, desperate to get in her good graces. 
She laid you down over her couch while removing whatever clothing you had found to cover yourself. Her fingers immediately sunk into your pussy and set an unforgiving pace, you had moaned and wailed around her but you took it, allowing Agatha to use you as she pleased. She knew best after all. You felt a weird sensation in your lower belly and you tried to warn Agatha. She pulled out of you after that. You couldn’t hold back your whine and she stroked your hair.
“Tell me what you want baby.”
“I want you mommy. I want you to play with me all the time, I don’t want to wait until just Fridays anymore. I wanna be with you and sleep with you afterwards and go on dates with you.”
“Sounds an awful lot like you want to be my girl honey. Is that it? You want to be my girl, have mama take care of you? Well, I can’t say I’d be opposed to it. It would be nice to have my baby girl by my side all the time hm. l would like that angel.”
You beam at her and Agatha can’t resist kissing you deeply. Her tongue enters your mouth and immediately establishes dominance, sucking and swirling against yours. You’re breathless when she pulls away, and you immediately chase her lips. 
Agatha throws you over her shoulder and brings you into her bedroom, desperate to claim you as hers. She lays you down in the middle of the bed before shuffling through her drawer and pulling out some ribbon. She toes your hands to her bed posts and you peer up at her confused. You refuse to voice anything, not when you were so close to your reward. She starts trailing kisses down your body, taking her time to explore all of you. She leaves hickeys in her wake, and she knows you’ll be wearing her marks for the next few days. The thought fills her with need and she hurries her exploration, stopping right at your glistening pussy. 
Agatha dives right in, lapping at your wetness before focusing her attention on your clit. She sucks hard, enjoying the way she can feel you pulse. Your moans are music to her ears and she enters you again, fingering you hard and fast, building you back up to where you were before. She curls her fingers to hit your spongy spot and your mind goes blank. You moan loudly and completely go limp, letting Agatha use your pussy. You feel the same pressure in your tummy again.
“Mama, mama please I feel weird.”
“Oh honey, mama knows. Let go for mama, you’re doing so well for me precious.”
Her words spur you on and you’re falling apart against her fingers, moaning loudly and twitching as you ride out your orgasm. You lay there limply afterwards and Agatha immediately rushes to untie you.
 The moment she comes back near you, you cling to her, desperately latching on to her. She lays down comfortably next to you and you immediately bring your head to her chest, right next to her boob. Agatha has an inkling for what you want so she unties her robe, giving you full access to her. Your head piques up with interest and she guides you towards her nipple where you happily latch on. She lets you enjoy your suckling, stroking your head while quietly praising you.
You fall asleep with your mouth latched to her nipple and your other hand by her stomach. Agatha has never been happier, wearing a giddy smile as she starts to feel drowsy. She’ll take down her cameras soon, knowing that she’ll eventually have you living with her anyways. Pressing another kiss to your head, she lets sleep claim her knowing she has everything she wants.
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notes: i feel like this is terrible so im very very sorry if it is 😔
tag list: @morbidlcve
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harrysfolklore · 26 days ago
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albon pets - aa23
summary: alex moves to monaco and suddenly his cats need vet checkups all the time, or maybe he just wants to hang out with the pretty doc
folkie radio: MY FIRST ALEX FIC!!!! y’all said that albono didn’t very much appreciation so i decided to do something about it, enjoy!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 48,936 others
yourinstagram Monday mood: When your favorite patients make your whole week better! 💕🐱 Special shoutout to Jimmy and Sassy who came in for their routine checkup. These two are literally the most well-behaved cats I've ever met (yes, I'm biased).
Their dad @/maxverstappen1 definitely knows how to raise the sweetest cats in Monaco. 🏎️🐈
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username1 aweeee jimmy and sassy are so big now!
username2 vet to the stars
username3 THATS MY BFF AND IM PROUD
maxverstappen1 They only behave for you 😅 At home Sassy keeps knocking everything off my shelves and Jimmy steals my socks. But at least they're healthy. Thanks doc!
↳ yourinstagram haha, that's because they know I'm the treat lady!
↳ landonorris Mate your cats have better healthcare than you do
↳ maxverstappen1 Shut up Lando
↳username4 i’m dying over this
alexandrasaintmleux Leo says he misses his favorite doc 😢
↳ yourinstagram My little Leo!!! please bring him in soon
username5 cutest patients ever
username6 the way max is a softie for his cats
kellypiquet Jimmy and Sassy have the best vet in Monaco
↳ yourinstagram They already have the best parents! Say hi to little P from me
username7 i love her vibe i bet she’s the sweetest person ever
username8 this is my dream job actually
username9 f1 pets favorite doc
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,328,044 others
alex_albon Finally made the big move! 🇲🇨 Horsey has already claimed the best spot in the apartment: a shoe box. After years of everyone telling me to join the Monaco crew, here we are!
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username1 omggggg alex moved to monaco
username2 horsey is an icon tbh
username3 ALBON CATS TAKE OVER MONACO
charles_leclerc Finally!! Only took you 4 years 😂
↳ alex_albon Better late than never
maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy have a new friend to judge from the balcony
↳ alex_albon As long as they don't teach him their sock-stealing habits
username4 they finally made him join the tax heaven crew
username5 monaco said ANOTHER ONE THANK YOU
username6 not me thinking that jimmy, sassy, roscoe, leo and the albon cats are now neighbors
williamsracing There goes our last UK-based driver 😢
username7 i can’t believe a man who radiates this much golden retriever boyfriend is single
username8 HE LOOKS SO CUUUUUTE
username9 alex do your pets need a mom? cuz i’m free
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
monaco crew groupchat
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liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1 and 50,439 others
yourinstagram Late night emergency turned into meeting this gorgeous new Monaco resident! Everyone say hi to Horsey 🖤
Poor baby had a rough first week in his new home (pro tip: cats and moving box debris don't mix well!), but he's already feeling much better after some treatment. Such a brave boy who purred through the whole examination despite feeling under the weather!
PS: His dad @/alex_albon gets extra points for being so attentive and calm during an emergency situation - exactly what we love to see! Always nice when pet parents take such good care of their fur babies 🏆
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username1 thank you for sharing your life as a vet! i love your posts
username2 such a cute boyyy horsey
maxverstappen1 The best 👊
↳ alex_albon You were right! Thanks for the recommendation 🙏
username3 you just got another f1 patient no biggie
georgerussell63 Good to see Horsey feeling better!
↳ yourinstagram He's such a sweet patient!
username4 she’s so popular among f1 drivers heeelp
charles_leclerc The Monaco pets collection grows
username5 ok but why is no one talking about how she called him attentive and calm?? ma'am we've seen him drive 😭
username6 ALEX GOT A VET ARC THIS IS NOT A DRILL
↳ username7 manifesting this storyline
↳ username4 y'all are too much omg 😭
username8 everyone in the comments being like 👀
↳ username5 THE DRIVERS ARE SO OBVIOUS I'M CRYING
username9 the group chat must be WILDING rn
username10 "his dad" MA'AM-
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liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 1,604,948 others
f1 When your local vet becomes paddock royalty!
Spotted at the #MonacoGP: The woman responsible for keeping the grid's furry friends healthy and happy! From Max's mischievous cats to Charles' pup, Lewis’ bulldog, and Alex's newly-relocated cats - @/yourinstagram has become the unofficial F1 Pet Doctor! 🏎️🐾
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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE OMG???
username2 SHES SO BEAUTIFUL
username3 this is definitely the coolest job in the world
maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy's favorite human
↳ lando more like their only well-behaved moments
↳ username1 JIMMY AND SASSY JUST LOVE HER
oscarpiastri The real paddock MVP 🏆
alex_albon ❤️
↳ lando very articulate there alex
↳ alex_albon shut up lando
↳ username2 OMGGGG WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
↳ username3the way alex just hearted it i-
↳ username4 we're watching a romance novel unfold in real time
username5 someone check on albon nation they're probably hospitalized
username6 the drivers exposing themselves in the comments 💀
username7 lando stirring the pot we love to see it
username8 not max immediately claiming her as his cats' favorite 😭
username9 THE HEART EMOJI???? ALEX???
username10 everyone in f1 moves to monaco for tax evasion and this vet
lewishamilton The best vet Roscoe's ever had! 🙌🏾
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yourinstagram Still pinching myself! 🏎️ From late night emergency calls with your pets to watching you all race through the streets of Monaco - what a surreal experience! Thank you @/f1 for having me and huge thanks to @/williamsracing for the incredible hospitality (and the merch! 🤫).
Special shoutout to all my four-legged patients watching their dads race from home and from the paddock today! 🐾
PS: These cars are LOUD! Now I understand why @alex_albon's cats get scared during race replays!
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username1 im her fan now
username2 SHES SO COOL
alex_albon Thanks for coming! Dinner to celebrate? 🤔
↳ lando smooth
↳ alex_albon I will block you
↳ landonorris worth it
↳ username1 WTF DID WE WITNESS
↳ username3 ohhh my god alex albon you have no shame
maxverstappen1 Thank you for coming !
williamsracing You're welcome any time! 💙
username4 DINNER??? ALEX???
↳ username2 THE SMOOTHEST DRIVER ON THE GRID FR
↳ username5 SOMEONE HOLD ME
username6 SO SHE WAS ALEX’S GUEST???
username7 can we talk about how pretty she is tho
georgerussell63 Next time bring your vet skills, my ego needs healing after that race
↳ maxverstappen1 same here doc
↳ yourinstagram Sorry boys, I only treat actual puppies 😂
username8 i ship her with alex idc idc
username9 WE NEED TO KNOW IF SHE ACTUALLY GRABBED DINNER WITH ALEX
username10 this is my roman empire
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f1gossip 🚨 BREAKING: Alex Albon spotted having dinner with Monaco's favorite vet at Le Petite Maison in Nice! Sources say they arrived together and have been there for over 2 hours.
Multiple fans confirm they looked "very cozy" and were "laughing all evening" 👀
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username1 OMFGGGG I DIDNT SEE THIS COMING
username2 i love this pair actually
username3 Max Verstappen was seen at the same restaurant last week... did someone play matchmaker? 👀
username4 EVERYBODY STAY CALM IT'S HAPPENING
username5 interesting timing right after her Monaco GP appearance 🤔
username6 I SHIP THIS SO HARD
username7 seriously guys? let them eat in peace
username8 THE WAY HE TOOK HER TO A NICE RESTAURANT NOT JUST ANY PLACE
username9 our boy got GAME
username10 manifesting worked girlies
username11 the way this isn't even a netflix script this is REAL
username12 ALEX BOYFRIEND ERA INCOMING
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monaco crew groupchat
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon and 69,035 others
yourinstagram When your Monday morning turns into an impromptu F1 pets reunion!
Apparently EVERYONE needed an urgent check-up today... how convenient 🤔 (I'm looking at you @/lewishamilton @/maxverstappen1 @/charles_leclerc)
All patients are perfectly healthy, just as they were last week! Though Roscoe did get extra treats for being the most honest about this setup 😉🐾
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username1 this is too funny
username2 why are they planninggggg
lewishamilton Roscoe said he was feeling under the weather!
↳ yourinstagram He was sleeping and snoring when you carried him in Lewis 😂
↳ lewishamilton ... he was conserving energy
username3 THESE DRIVERS ISTH
maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy needed their... annual... weekly checkup
↳ yourinstagram Max, I literally saw them yesterday
↳ maxverstappen1 They miss you already?
charles_leclerc Pure coincidence 😇
alex_albon guys...
↳ georgerussell63 👀
↳ alex_albon I can't with any of you
↳ username1 WHATS GOING ON
username4 THE WAY THEY'RE ALL TRYING TO HELP I'M CRYING
username5 not them all showing up at once 💀
username6 they’re as subtle as a brick through a window
username7 ARE THEY TRYING TO PLAY MATCHMAKER??
username8 sassy looks so adorable i cantttt
username9 coolest job ever ! thanks for sharing your life as a vet <3
username10 alex just kiss her
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liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 1,804,539 others
alex_albon Race week dumps 🏎️ Missing my troublemakers already #F1 #Cats #RaceWeek
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username1 HES SO BOYFRIEND CODED
username2 i love cat dad alex
yourinstagram Tell the babies their favorite vet misses them!
↳ alex_albon They knocked over their food bowl as soon as I showed them this comment
↳ yourinstagram Sounds about right 😂 Remember their anxiety meds before quali!
↳ alex_albon Already packed them! See, I can be responsible
↳ lando the cats or YN got you being responsible? 👀
↳ alex_albon blocked.
username3 WHAT JUST HAPPENED???
username4 did lando just exposed him?
username5 someone's cats getting a lot of vet attention lately 👀
maxverstappen1 Your cats have better race prep than you do
↳ alex_albon At least my cats like me
↳ maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy said that's a lie
↳ yourinstagram Can confirm, all F1 cats talk about each other in their check-ups
↳ alex_albon et tu, doc? 😭
username6 ALEX SOOOO LIKES HER I CANT
username7 most wholesome grid dad
williamsracing Cat dad era > any other era
username8 ALEX IS PRETTY MUCH IN LOVE WITH THEIR VET I CANT
username9 crying he’s so obvious
username10 if the vet doesn’t want to be his girlfriend i volunteer just saying
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liked by yourinstagram, alex_albon and 102,549 others
albon_pets Guess who we saw today? 🤔 Our favorite doc @/yourinstagram! Dad said we needed vaccines but we think he's just bad at making excuses 😽
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username1 ALBON PETSSSS
username2 THE CAPTION 😭
yourinstagram My favorite trouble twins! ❤️ Horsey only knocked over ONE thing this time, we're making progress!
↳ alex_albon that's because you bribed them with treats
↳ yourinstagram Professional secret 😉
maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy are offended they weren't invited
↳ albon_pets Tell them we'll see them at next week's "emergency" appointment 😸
username3 NOT ALEX’S OWN CATS DRAGGING HIM
williamsracing Our mascots looking purrfect 🐱
username4 those must be the most thoroughly examined cats in Monaco
username5 these cats getting more action than their dad
username6 whatever you do don’t picture alex trying to come up with excuses to take the cats to the clinic just so he can see doc yn
username7 alex stop using your cats as matchmakers
username8 THIS IS SO FUNNY
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yourinstagram Long night at the clinic with this tiny fighter. Found abandoned in the rain, severe hypothermia and malnutrition, but pulling through like a champion. Sometimes the hardest nights remind me why I love this job. Will keep everyone updated on this little one's progress! 💕
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username1 oh shes the sweetest ever
username2 poor little thing 🥹
monacoanimalrescue Thank you for taking this baby in! Let us know if you need anything
↳ yourinstagram Will do! Already showing good signs 🙏
username3 Nothing hits harder than these late night rescue cases. You're doing amazing work! ❤️
↳ yourinstagram Thank you! Hour 16 and counting, but worth it
username4 need any supplies or volunteers?
↳ yourinstagram Actually yes! DMing you now
alex_albon Need any help? I can bring coffee or food or anything
↳ yourinstagram Actually could use both if you're up?
↳ alex_albon On my way!
↳ username1 OMG ALEXXXX
↳ username2 i see 👀👀
kellypiquet This is why you’re the best! 💘
username5 Those overnight kitten cases always get to me. Sending strength!
↳ yourinstagram The tiny ones are always the fighters!
username6 this is why we're in this field 🥺
username7 this is the perfect girl for alex
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texts between max and yn
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liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1 and 98,736 others
yourinstagram First night off in ages! No emergencies, no sick pets (real or imaginary), just dinner with good company ❤️
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username1 OMFGGGGG
username2 am i dreaming???
lando FINALLY!!!!!
↳ georgerussell63 Only took 47 vet visits
↳ charles_leclerc And 3 house fires
↳ alex_albon guys please 😭
↳ username1 NO WAY
↳ username2 they’re so annoying oml
maxverstappen1 My cats send their congratulations
↳ yourinstagram Tell them thanks!
username3 THE WAY I JUST SCREAMED
username4 FINALLY HAPPENING
username5 the way the whole paddock was invested in this 😭
username6 best storyline of the season
username7 About time! Have fun you two!
username8 the slow burn we've been watching all season
alex_albon ❤️
↳ lando Look who learned how to use the heart emoji
↳ alex_albon I'm still blocking all of you
username9 ALEX BOYFRIEND ERA IS HEREEEEEEE
username10 i knew this was going to happen
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alex_albon Turns out I didn't need a sick cat excuse after all 😊❤️
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username1 AHHHHHH
username2 THIS IS SO CUTE
lando WHO HAD "ALEX POSTS FIRST" IN THE BETTING POOL
↳ georgerussell63 Pay up everyone
↳ charles_leclerc I lost 50€ 😭
↳ username1 NO WAY THIS IS REAL
↳ username2 THEY’RE SO ANNOYING
yourinstagram ❤️
↳ alex_albon ❤️
↳ username1 THE WAY I JUST DIED
↳ username2 they're using matching hearts I can't 😭
username3 local man discovers real dates better than fake emergencies
username4 CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT
username5 Finally! You two are adorable ❤️
username6 ALEX FINALLY GOT HIS SHIT TOGETHER
maxverstappen1 My cats want to know if they're invited to the wedding
↳ alex_albon MAX !
username7 most wholesome character arc
username8 ALEX BOYFRIEND ERA IS REAL
username9 they make the cutest couple ever
username10 THE WAY THE ENTIRE GRID JUST WANTED THEM TOGETHER
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f1gossip BREAKING: After months of "emergency vet visits" and mysterious cat illnesses, looks like @/alex_albon finally got the real thing 👀❤️
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username1 THE WAY I JUST SCREAMED IN PUBLIC
username2 SOMEONE HOLD ME
username3 the growth we've witnessed 😭
username4 the way the whole paddock was invested in this storyline
username5 the slow burn we deserved
username6 this is better than any romance novel
username7 ALBON NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING
username8 he way we watched this unfold all season
username9 ALEX DATING A VET FEELS SO RIGHT
username10 the clinic's security cameras probably have a whole romcom stored
username11 THE WAY HE'S SMILING 😭
username12 protect them at all costs
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yourinstagram Trading my stethoscope for some racing earmuffs this weekend! Marie's handling the clinic while I watch someone who definitely doesn't have any more sick cats race around Silverstone 😉❤️
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username1 AWE THIS IS SO CUUUTE
username2 best couple ever i swear
clinicvet_marie Have fun! The clinic will survive 😊
username3 THE HELMETS IM CRYING
lando look who doesn't need to fake emergencies to see him anymore
↳ alex_albon I will crash this car into you
↳ landonorris worth it
username4 POWER COUPLE
username5 the most wholesome storyline ever
alexandrasaintmleux welcome to our crew 🥹🥹
williamsracing We can’t wait too see our favorite doc 😉
username6 i can’t believe alex got himself a girlfriend
alex_albon ❤️
↳ yourinstagram See you at the finish line ❤️
↳ username2 THIS IS TOO CUTE
↳ username3 I COULD CRY
username7 first race as girlfriend!
username8 she’s so supportive of him i’m sobbing
username9 this picture is so pinterest coded i’m crying
username10 I NEED THEM TO ADOPT ME
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liked by yourinstagram, lando and 1,308,577 others
alex_albon First race with my lucky charm in the paddock! Turns out having a real girlfriend is better than having sick cats 😉 Thank you everyone for the amazing support today ❤️ Special thanks to @/williamsracing for the incredible car
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username1 AWEEEEEE
username2 this is the cutest post ever
yourinstagram So proud of you ❤️
↳ alex_albon ❤️
↳ username1 STOP THIS IS TOO CUTE IM CRYING
username3 MY BF HAS A GF I CANT
maxverstappen1 Once again you’re welcome
↳ username2 HES SO ANNOYING
username4 driver finds success with real girlfriend instead of fake cat emergencies
username5 THE WAY THEY'RE BOTH GLOWING
williamsracing Petition to make the lucky charm permanent
↳ alex_albon Already planned 😊
↳ username1 IM SOBBING HES SO IN LOVE
lando so this is what happens when you stop inventing diseases
↳ alex_albon I should have tried this strategy sooner
↳ charles_leclerc Ya think? 🙄
↳ username3 lmfao they’re never going to let him live that down
username6 SOMEONE FRAME THIS PICTURE AND PUT IT IN THE LOUVRE
username7 they’re so aesthetically pleasing i could cry
username8 THEY NEED TO GET MARRIED
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liked by alex_albon, yourinstagram and 102,665 others
albon_pets We have a new brother! Meet Bruno Albon, the newest addition to our family! 🐾 Mom @/yourinstagram and Dad @/alex_albon adopted him together (and this time it wasn't an emergency visit excuse 😉). He's already best friends with us and loves watching F1 races!
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username1 MY HEARTTTTT
username2 oh my god bruno albon you sweet boy
f1 The family grows !
yourinstagram Our big boy ❤️
↳ alex_albon Family complete 🥰
↳ username1 STOP I'M SOBBING
username3 THE ALBON FAMILY HAS MY HEART
lando my cats demand a playdate
↳ alex_albon Your cats aren't even real Lando
↳ lando Neither were your emergencies 🤷‍♂️
↳ username1 IM WHEEZING
username4 they’re parents now what if i sob
username5 look at this beautiful family 😭
username6 the way they got a DOG together
username7 best F1 pet family
williamsracing Bruno already has his paddock pass
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liked by yourinstagram, lando and 1,098,447 others
alex_albon A year ago I moved to Monaco and started inventing the most ridiculous cat emergencies known to veterinary science. Today I have the most amazing girlfriend, a beautiful family (including a dog who actually exists!), and somehow @/yourinstagram still hasn't banned me from her clinic 😅❤️ Best decision I ever made, even if my cats supposedly had everything from fever to existential crisis
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username1 IM SOBBING
username2 this is what to precious i’m so parasocial about them
yourinstagram From "my cat has seasonal depression" to "I love you" ❤️
↳ alex_albon Best character development 🥰
↳ username1 THE WAY THEY FLIRT IN COMMENTS NOW
username3 im so happy they found each other
lando emember when he googled "can cats get jetlag"
↳ georgerussell63 While his cats were literally at home
↳ alex_albon It was a valid question
↳ username2 ALEX WAS IN THE TRENCHES
username4 the cutest butterfly effect ever
username5 I HEAR WEDDING BELLS TIME TO START PLANNING
albon_pets mom and dad 💘
username6 this is just too sweet
username7 THE WAY ALEX HAD FAKE CAT DISEASES AND A DREAM
username8 BRUNO IS SO CUTEE
username9 if they don’t get married istg
username10 this gives me hope i can find love too
1K notes · View notes
pencil-n-pen · 26 days ago
Text
I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING
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⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆
previous | kofi | masterlist
post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader
₊ ⊹
I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.
-mirrorball, taylor swift
₊ ⊹
summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again
cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence
tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap
a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!
read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)
this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be
⋆⭒˚.⋆
Spencer is a really good boyfriend.
Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.
He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.
He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.
But you still worry.
All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.
“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”
A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”
The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”
“More like uptight.”
“Dad—“
“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”
Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.
You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“
“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”
(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)
Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”
“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."
You don't dignify his words with a response.
"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."
"It's not funny."
"Don't be like that--"
"Goodbye."
You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.
The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.
Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.
But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.
You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.
Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.
You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.
So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.
This, of course, is easier said than done.
It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.
But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.
But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.
You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.
"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."
"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."
He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.
It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?
When is it all going to end?
--
Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.
JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."
That little voice comes back.
Too much too much too much too much too much--
"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.
JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."
You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.
Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.
You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.
Be better. Try harder.
You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.
--
You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.
"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"
A little stab of ice in your stomach.
"I don't know. I think it's nice."
"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."
You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.
A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.
--
The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—
That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.
That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.
But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?
--
You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.
It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.
You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.
You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.
--
The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.
You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.
It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.
He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.
Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—
"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"
"Yes?" You croak.
His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.
Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.
"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"
"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.
He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.
You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.
"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."
He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."
"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."
He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"
You freeze. "What do you mean?"
He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.
"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."
Your finger's twitch at your sides.
His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."
He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.
Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.
The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.
"My parents think you're going to leave me."
Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"
"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."
"But that's not your fault."
You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"
You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.
I'm not easy to love.
"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."
"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."
He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"
You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"
"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."
His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."
He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."
The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.
"Maybe."
"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"
Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"
A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."
That makes you look up. "Really?"
He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."
"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"
"When did you go to the vet's—"
"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."
He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.
"What do I do now?"
"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."
"What?"
You're so close your breaths are mingling.
"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."
"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."
His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.
"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."
You laugh. "I do not swoon."
"You will."
He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.
It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.
--
Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.
He also starts needing you a bit... louder.
It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.
Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.
"Don't you have work to do?"
"Either finished it or it can be done later."
You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.
He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.
"Your hair smells good."
"Like what?"
"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."
You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.
"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"
"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."
He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.
--
Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.
You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.
"You wanna know something cool?"
"You know it,"
"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."
"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"
"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."
"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."
"Should we get dinner afterwards?"
"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."
"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."
--
Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.
You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.
He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.
"Should I move?"
"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."
Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.
--
It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the t.v, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the screen.
You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.
"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.
And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.
And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.
"I love you."
He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.
"I love you too."
⋆⭒˚.⋆
taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp
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iamred-iamyellow · 5 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Dancing in the Courthouse
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♥ masterlist | request rules | part of my 1k event
♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
♥ synopsis: In 2021 you and oscar decided to elope due to your unpredictable schedules. now that you have more stability in your life, you were able to throw a dream wedding with the man you loved most in the world.
♥ smau + written - as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing !!!
♥ a/n: first fic apart of the 1k event!
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-Paris, 2021-
The streets of Paris were bustling as you took a seat in your Uber. You could hear a Taylor Swift song playing faintly on the car's radio as you pulled out your phone.
You
hey osc I'm on my way back
Oscar checked the notification and panicked a little internally. He slipped the device back into his dress pants and shook his hands.
"Relax, tout ira bien," Estie assured Oscar. (translation: everything will be fine)
He sighed and turned towards the two French men, "Are you sure?"
All Pierre did was laugh.
"Call me when it's over," Pierre said with a smirk and guided Esteban out the door, into an elevator.
You were in France on a girls night out with your best friend Kika, whom you met through Formula 1. Little did the two of you know that Pierre and Esteban snuck over to your hotel room in order to help Oscar set up a surprise.
You tapped your keycard on your hotel door and called out your boyfriend's name. You set your purse down on a small marble table and kicked off your heels, making your way through the main room.
A small trail of pink rose petals guided you to the terrace causing your heartbeat to pick up.
Was this really happening?
You opened the glass doors to find more rose petals surrounding the floor and a very handsome Oscar. You strode over to him in complete shock until he grabbed your hands in his.
"Y/n you have been my best friend for as long as I can remember," he said as his thumb drew circles on one of your fingers. "You have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I could never imagine a life without you. I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we'd like to, but that is why I wanted to do this today."
He slowly got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a black velvet box to reveal a silver ring.
"Will you marry me?"
You squatted down to his height and mumbled, "Is that even a question?"
You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him gently, "Yes of course I will."
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
-July 4, 2024-
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 300,572 more
ynln london girl
📸 creds: @/oscarpiastri
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user1 lmao the oscar picture creds
oscarpiastri I risked my life for that first pic
ynln @/oscarpiastri you were on another balcony?
user3 if anyone risked their life for that picture it's Alex
user2 speaking of alex she looks SO pretty there
carlossainz55 red nails for ferrari
ynln anything for you carlitos 😽
iamrebeccad so so true and real
user4 pretties
user9 lets all manifest an oscar win for this weekend
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri, and 1,481,583 more
ynpiastri oops I guess the cat is out of the bag huh! the rumors are in fact true, oscar and I are married. we have been trying to keep it a secret since our elope in 2021, but it seems as though I slipped up with a photo on my insta. at least it was the perfect timing for the reception we're throwing this summer 🥰
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nicolepiastri see you at the sequel wedding!!
ynpiastri <3
user1 ...sorry?
user8 PARDON
user12 THEY'RE ACTUALLY MARRIED
user2 POOKIE YOU CANT JUST POST A SHIRTLESS OSCAR LIKE THAT
user7 her username change I am so endeared
mclaren how many of you knew...
logansargeant I did
alexandrasaintmleux I did
charles_leclerc I did
landonorris I DIDNT?!?!
landonorris @/oscarpiastri how come charles knew before me
charles_leclerc @/landonorris he's my son???
iamrebeccad I'm so happy for you!
ynpiastri tysm becks 🥹🫶
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 123,740 more
wagupdates the girlies pulling up to the belgian paddock
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user1 the color scheme 🛐
user2 PLS did they plan this for y/n’s wedding?
wagupdates @/user2 we think so!!
oscarpiastri I guess I need to step up my fashion game
charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri I can help 😁
ynpiastri @/charles_leclerc no you cannot
user7 I love them
user4 they're GORGEOUS
francolapinto 😘
user8 ITS MR STEAL YOUR GIRL
user3 HAHAHA
user9 FRANCO Y/N IS MARRIED
charles_leclerc @/francocolapinto Te sugiero que elijas sabiamente tus próximas palabras (I suggest you choose your next words wisely)
francolapinto sorry sorry! its a joke its a joke 😅
user10 the threatening spanish 😭
carlossainz55 @/user10 I taught him that
fernandoalo_oficial @/carlossainz55 and I taught YOU that
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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francisca.cgomes rich bitch energy
tagged; @/ynpiastri @/alexandrasaintmleux
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user1 are you shopping for dresses
francisca.cgomes mayybbe
ynpiastri GORGEOUS
francisca.cgomes NO YOU 😚
aussiegrit @/nicolepiastri do i get to walk oscar down the aisle
nicolepiastri no 😐
charles_leclerc that’s right because i am
user2 the family seating is gonna go crazy lol
user5 so what’s the dog situation?
landonorris bark
ynpiastri @/landonorris NO 😭
user5 I MEANT LEO AND ROSCOE 💀
ynpiastri @/user5 leo we know is definitely going to be there! 🥰
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
-Wedding Day-
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liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 1,749,053 more
ynpiastri 💍
tagged; @/francisca.cgomes
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danielricciardo 🥹
pierregasly vous êtes tous les deux magnifiques (you both look gorgeous)
user6 the fact that kika is her maid of honor
user7 IM NOT CRYING
user4 the venue is STUNNING
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
There was a salty ocean breeze on a cliff-side of Monaco, the place you and Oscar picked for the wedding.
There were dozens of familiar faces along with beautiful greenery and pastel flowers decorating the space.
You were sat at your table with your husband Oscar as the toast’s began to start.
“Hi,” someone said into the mic with a smile. “I’m Kika.”
There were a few soft laughs from the crowd. She pulled a piece of paper out of her gold-colored dress.
“When I found out you eloped without me that day in Paris my first thought was ‘fuck you’.” she said causing some more chuckles to come from the guests.
“It was only because I wouldn’t get the chance to give you the speech I had planned—but here we are today and I’m so glad I finally get to say it. Over these past couple years you have been my best friend, in and outside the paddock. I have so much love for you and I couldn’t be happier for your relationship with Oscar.”
You got up from your seat and hugged her, eliciting a few ‘aws’ from the room.
Lando stood up next with the mic, “Oscar was the guy on the grid no one could shut the up about,” Lando spoke into the mic and everyone laughed. “I didn’t get it at first, but then I met him, and I got it. And I felt the same when I met Y/n. You two are lucky to have each other. Congrats, mate.”
He raised his glass of champagne causing everyone to clink their glasses and cheer.
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liked by lewishamilton, aussiegrit, nicolepiastri, and 1,937,954 more
ynpiastri wifey
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user1 this is so cunty
wagupdates we heard that y/n’s heel broke and oscar had to carry her to the car (hence the last picture) 😭
user7 she is SO pretty
patriciooward great to see you again osc!
user6 I. LOVE. THEM.
user2 omg they’re so hot
user3 y/n’s outfits today >>>
lilymhe the reception was beautiful
ynpiastri <3
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praisethegabs · 11 months ago
Text
OLDER
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leon kennedy x reader
synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.
warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon
word count: 15k
a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❤️
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I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS
Life can be a bitch sometimes.
This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude. 
But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him. 
The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become. 
There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there. 
But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back… 
His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?
Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home. 
Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t. 
It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him. 
After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you. 
Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if… and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities. 
After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival. 
II. RINSE AND REPEAT
He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost. 
Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.
At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.
This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.
Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it. 
Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life. 
After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day. 
After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.
Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so… gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused. 
“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.
“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him. 
“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."
"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.
“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity. 
“I… have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.
“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.
“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.
“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.
“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.
“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise. 
“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual. 
At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you. 
“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile. 
“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little. 
“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so…”
“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean…”
“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”
“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.
“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand. 
Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market. 
His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality. 
However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast? 
“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi” 
“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I… um…”
“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words. 
“No… I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so…” 
“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings. 
“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.
“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings. 
“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves. 
“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again. 
"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity. 
“You might think I’m weird, but… seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense. 
“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time. 
“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings. 
“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it. 
“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments. 
“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase. 
“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity. 
“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier” 
“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood. 
“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise. 
“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips. 
“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips. 
The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself. 
He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life. 
Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks. 
What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong? 
His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!
The future is a hell that’s only getting worse. 
III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING
You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.
However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else. 
After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.
“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning. 
“Hi… um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up” 
“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again. 
“I know it's late, but… I was thinking about that dinner…” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and… talk?” 
“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him. 
“Of course. At seven?” 
“At seven, it is,” you smiled again. 
As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between… two friends? Could you possibly be his friend? 
Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions. 
Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other. 
Betrayal is the word that defines Leon. 
He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go. 
Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy. 
At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought. 
“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you. 
“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”
“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks. 
"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines. 
“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place. 
You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends. 
“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity. 
“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses. 
“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad. 
Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this. 
“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken… what happened to your neck?”
Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew. 
“I, um… got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past. 
“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage. 
“It’s nothing… trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine” 
“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek. 
Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it. 
“I don’t know what on earth happened to you…” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk” 
Leon was reaching his breaking point. 
He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are. 
“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t” 
When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane. 
“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go” 
After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while. 
However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again. 
June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA
“It might create more problems than it solves…” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.
Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him. 
“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame…” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon… It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess” 
He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality. 
“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!” 
The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone. 
“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.
He pulls the trigger. 
And there’s only blood. 
He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you. 
“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home” 
“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be. 
“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips. 
“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude” 
“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well. 
“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly. 
You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice. 
He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent. 
“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs. 
“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his. 
IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN 
The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that. 
The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.
Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in. 
The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night. 
Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.
Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."
Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.
"Target approaching."
As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.
"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise. 
The Porsche approached the garage. 
"GO," Leon said sharply. 
At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat. 
Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded. 
A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.
Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him. 
Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up. 
There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death… an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.
He feels paralyzed. 
It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring. 
It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands. 
“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness. 
Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before. 
“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I… don’t want to be alone” 
“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd. 
You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock. 
“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention. 
“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly. 
“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time” 
You saw him reach the breaking point. 
Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.
After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this. 
But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life. 
“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead” 
“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words. 
“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin. 
“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down. 
“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe… it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack. 
“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope. 
Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows. 
“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently. 
Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe. 
“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair. 
“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on. 
“Just a nightmare…” he whispers, trying to calm down again. 
“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know. 
“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again. 
“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room. 
“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you. 
“What do you mean?” 
“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a… broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life” 
The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed. 
“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine…” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."
No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode. 
“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone” 
After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one. 
Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.  
“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast” 
“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet. 
“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?” 
“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you… for sticking up with me last night” 
“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do” 
“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell” 
You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space. 
“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast. 
“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago. 
“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it” 
Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine. 
Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him. 
You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet. 
“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot” 
“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.  
“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers. 
“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.  
“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore” 
“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully. 
Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is… peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease. 
“If I ask you a favor…” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation. 
“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation. 
“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen. 
“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them. 
Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations. 
“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense. 
“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile. 
When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?
He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination. 
“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.
“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.  
Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life. 
“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before. 
“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags. 
“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now… I don’t think about that anymore”
He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again. 
“I used to be scared of the morgue… but coming here with you… is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone” 
“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness. 
But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags. 
The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.
Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this” 
V. ACCEPTANCE 
After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.  
You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise. 
It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.
“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel. 
“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity. 
“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college” 
“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours. 
“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers. 
“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that” 
“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers. 
“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling. 
“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way… I have something for you” 
Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do. 
“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday” 
“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box. 
He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you. 
“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you. 
“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it. 
“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly. 
“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it” 
“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job… I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but…” 
“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. 
“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that. 
“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him. 
“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma. 
You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way. 
“Start with something like… why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs. 
“I… um… I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things” 
“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?” 
Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this. 
“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive” 
While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls. 
“After that night… everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but…” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath. 
“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day… you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night…” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault” 
Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top. 
Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.
"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.
"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.
Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.
"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.
"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.
Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression. 
"I'm on vacation." 
"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.
"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.
"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.
"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.
"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.
Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.
"Cancel the beer."
"No, it's not canceled."
“Come on… what the fuck?!”
"I don't need any more alcohol."
"Cut it out. What's going on?"
"That's my line."
The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.
"You–!" Chris leaned forward.
"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.
Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.
"...What's the situation?" he asked.
Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues, 
"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization." 
The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice. 
"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess," 
Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.
"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"
"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.
"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."
With a hesitant tone, Leon continues
“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."
Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power. 
"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.
"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.
Tension fills the air between them once again.
"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."
"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.
They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.
"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies. 
"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues. 
"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."
Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.
"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.
"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.
Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student. 
"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."
As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.
"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."
Rebecca glances lightly at Leon. 
"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."
Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.
"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."
Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table. 
"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."
"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.
"What?" Leon asks, confused.
"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.
There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that. 
"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.
Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.
"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.
She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.
"She's a great woman," Leon comments.
"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile. 
And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago. 
"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.
"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response. 
"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..." 
Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.
"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."
Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence. 
"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.
"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well… I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”
"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.
“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."
Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.
"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."
He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain. 
Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."
Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head. 
“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up. 
“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes. 
“Listen… something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek. 
“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy. 
“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you. 
“Ok… I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 
Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him. 
Before you, Leon was ready to die. 
He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed. 
But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you. 
It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine. 
The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton. 
"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."
The merged form kicked out.
The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.
Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.
"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.
"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.
In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way. 
Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.
Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.
What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end…
VI. ABSOLUTION
When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed. 
After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back. 
“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room. 
“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you. 
“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles. 
“Well… I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living… since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job. 
“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity. 
“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed… thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me…” 
“Wait, wait, wait… slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home… I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you” 
Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one. 
“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday… and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.
“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears. 
“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.
“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead. 
After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents. 
“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home. 
“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him. 
“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.
You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you. 
“Mom, dad… this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations. 
“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red. 
“So… um… how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon. 
“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so…” 
“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips. 
Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love. 
“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room. 
“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody. 
“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “
“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck. 
“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin. 
“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you. 
The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too. 
“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck. 
“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear. 
He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you. 
“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest. 
You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful. 
Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you. 
“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears. 
Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already. 
However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that. 
When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone. 
Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again. 
“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck. 
“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly. 
“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck. 
“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 
“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him. 
After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.
And he’s fine with that. 
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tojicide · 9 days ago
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(check out the series here)
spiderman!caleb has been floating around in my mind for days… please humor me and picture it.
caleb had it all figured out. academically? he was at top of his class, the golden child of the honors program. socially? he was well known, well liked, and somehow not the total dirtbag that most college guys are.
life was simple. predictable. textbook. that was until three very inconvenient things happened.
number one: he was bit by a radioactive spider. great. suddenly, he has web-slinging powers, majorly heightened senses, and—thanks to a lingering case of static cling—his life has been turned upside down. (seriously, he’s somehow gotten stuck to his dorm room’s ceiling more times than he would like to admit.)
number two: he met you. the timing was impeccable, really. you were smart, competitive, and somehow—no matter what he did—always a step ahead. if he got a 97 in microbiology? you’d score a 98. if he grabbed a cookie from the dining hall? he’d see you with two on your plate. that was deliberate, he’s sure of it. and above all, you’re gunning for top spot in the class, just when he’s trying to juggle his new, freakish reality.
number three: the spider’s sense was created—an anonymous blog dedicated to every little thing spider-man does. caleb’s trying to lay low, but the blog is way too close for comfort.
his new mission? find out who’s behind the blog before they figure out he’s the one they’re writing about. but with you constantly one-upping him and him trying to keep up appearances, caleb might just be in way over his head.
a/n: so obviously i’ve thought about this way too much….. so hypothetically…….would anyone be interested in reading a spidercaleb fic series……. (edit: ok i’m going to post it, i can’t fight the urges.)
comment if you want to be tagged!!
also i got the concept of spidercaleb from paiya443 on x!
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jasminerva · 3 months ago
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“does Nagumo have kinks and if so what are your favs for him 🎤”
So I was asked the above by Lao (@herringstrait)... And I thought I'd just list off a few off the top of my head, but in the end I had enough for a full post lmaooo (and then some - I added more and it just got away from me orz)
Welp... here ya go!
Nagumo x gn!Reader (w/ a few femme-gendered parts as indicated by ♀) Want more? Check out my SakaDays Masterlist! 🍑 Comments, reblogs, tags appeachiated~! 🍑
🎤🧐
mic check one-two (takes in a deep breath)
Nagumo x Reader NSFW headcanons
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I feel like Nagumo would prefer to be in control even when he "relinquishes" it lol he wants to show you who's boss (it's you - if you really want you can even make him cry and drool and beg for it) he'll (learn to) crave it 😏 like a special once in a while treat. Honestly, he convinces himself he needs control because that's secure & safe to him. When he gives you control, that's basically saying he feels super safe with you! And if that ain't the sexiest thing ever, I don't know what is.
I personally don't feel like he's got any extravagant kinks like rope play or whips or wax / pain play (he'll try everything once, and he'll do stuff that you like for you)
Now, that doesn't mean he won't go crazy if you wrap yourself up like a present with your/his favourite-coloured ribbon! Or - better yet - let him wrap you up!
Food play for sure tho. One of the smut fics I have drafted up for Valentine's Day involves chocolate in lieu of clothing lmao
Nagumo likes little challenges cuz he's childish like that - throw him a bone every once in a while. Dare him to keep the cuffs on no matter what (god knows he can break outta anything). Let him get creative in stripping you and he'll surprise you (hint: it involves teeth).
I do think he'd like it a lot if you call him "good boy" - he likes praise. Nagumo will for sure reciprocate.
I think he really likes jiggly parts lol so he'd get mesmerized and purposely slam harder and maybe slap it a bit just to see it wiggle lmao (also them slapping sounds mmmph)
Mirror sex
Orgasm control lol but not too crazy he's a soft guy (for the most part). Mostly, he's a sappy romantic and he wants to cum isshoni together with you, so he'll do his darndest to get you off at the same time. In reality, you could probably control him better than he thinks he can control you.
He can be a little possessive but it's not to possess rather than the feelings behind it. If you time it well and tell him you're "his" he could very much cum prematurely 🤣 (he just wants you to know you're his and he's yours okay???)
I also have a smut that I don't know when it'll be released but… it involves an annual hunting excursion in the wilderness lmao (where YOU are the prey - so yeah) [Lao mentioned the face he made while threatening Yotsumura so I HAD TO INCLUDE IT]
(hack-coughs)
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(takes in another breath)
Nagumo would be amazing at role play (dude is a master of disguise) but at the end of the day all he wants is to be himself / vulnerable and with you 🥹
I shared this before where Nagumo keeps his eyes open for everything lmaooo his FOMO is bad. You have to get used to when you accidentally peek while he's kissing or you're trying to cover your O face - nope, he will pry those hands off your face or lean very forward - he wants to see it ALL with them big boba eyes.
Just like his eyes are made for eyeing, his fingers are made for fingering. You can act all cocky and crack a joke about how his knuckle tattoos will wear out so much faster at the rate he's going, but he'll just tell you, "worth getting them retouched if I get to touch you like this" as he nearly sends you to heaven (showing off the real reason he has his gold assassin license).
On that note, he's not afraid to probe (literally and figuratively) you, even while you're already stuffed. "Y-Yoichi, t-too much... I don't think that'll fff—" "Shh... don't worry, baby, you can take it all."
[♀] For my womb-sisters, I can see him pressing down on your lower abdomen while he's thrusting into you, feeling you from the outside-in (inside-out?), driving you crazy. Hit that g(uaranteed good time)-spot-on accuracy.
He knows how to use his tongue too. You might even prefer it because it means he'll shut up for once, but ultimately you love his silver tongue-in-cheek as much as you love his other appendages. I think he still prefers leaving his mouth free for kisses and cracking wise.
[♀] Bonus food play, he will kill two birds with one stone by taking in some sugar-free candy or mint beforehand to eat you out. We know how much he loves his sweets after all~ ;) plus the minty tingle would keep things quite literally fresh. (warning: don't mix actual sugar with the vajayjay — not worth it)
Look up BJ blast pop rocks and tell me that won't be the best way to get back at him.
He loves it when you tangle your fingers in his hair, hold him close while he ravishes you. He keeps his hair messy for a reason (wants you stuck for as long as possible).
[♀] Just like he has the bobas, if you have the boobas, he loves to motorboat tease them and rest his face between them (even outside of R18 times). There's something about how nipples perk up that he feels real satisfied about.
[♀] Holding onto them while he's hitting that spot? The peaks between his tattooed fingers and feeling the jiggly movement under his palms? That's one of the rare times he has difficulty concentrating on your face.
Aftercare
This can be pre-/post-/in between, but he likes to trace your hip or stomach or other part with his fingers. Maybe solve some math puzzles like a nerd (scenario included below).
He'll clean you up really well. Maybe too well. Don't take up his offer to clean you up in the shower or bath if you're short on time.
I can see him as the big spoon, or even little spoon. Best would be the pillow-talk position, where he just holds you right against him, face-to-face, eye-to-boobage.
Whatever position, just picture him holding you with his fingers interlocked.
He'll tangle his legs with yours and lock you tf in. Need to go to the bathroom? Best of luck. Dude is a clingy Cancer.
He might wax poetic, saying something cheesy like "we fit together like puzzle pieces" or "you're a problem I'm still trying to solve" - feel free to bonk him. Then you'll have some mandarin oranges to share!
Nuzzles & cuddles & kisses, oh my!
He'll fall asleep with his chin resting on your head, or nuzzled against your chest. (omg Memi @toyboxterror shared this art by ivy_rt_ w/ me which is perfect)
Extra for those familiar with cloud8.
re: hunter-prey play - you don’t particularly like nature, but you’ll do it just to outlast him as long as possible (you can be stupid competitive and it reminds you of JCC times) - plus maybe you like the adrenaline spike haha. He makes a convincing predator.
re: orgasm control / rare dom time - you will get some use out of your kill heels after all (psst don’t tell Tenju).
If you’re into consensual somno - the perk is that you don’t have to do anything PLUS it makes Nagumo feel trusted and desired and that gets him off. WIN-WIN & WINK-WONK.
Nagumo may hate his stuffy work wear, but you've convinced him the necktie is a must. To tug on, motioning him to come hither, pulling him into a kiss, he'll pin you down between his arms and deepen it. It becomes ceremony after a long day's work. (thank you Memi for reminding me!!!)
Extra (forgot I had this drafted in Oct - figured I'd include it here)
SakaDays headcanon: Nagumo “I solve Sudoku puzzles in my downtime” Yoichi does rapid mental math in his head and most likely even uses his fingers (wink-wonk).
shared in the ch1 end notes of c o n t r a i l s (Nagumo x F!Reader ***nsfw smut*** fic). [tumblr post link if you wanted to like + reblog]
Probably traces Sudoku on your bare skin, too. The nerd. Here's a smol scenario of a time when you first noticed:
(You and Nagumo are snuggled up) Nagumo: (hand lingering on your hip, he starts tracing patterns on your skin) You: Are you playing tic-tac-toe or something? Nagumo: Hm? Nope. You: (after a few more movements, realizing) Seriously? Sudoku? Nagumo: Yeah, well, I left the book in my other coat, but may as well continue where I left off~ You: Wow. Is that where your mind immediately goes? Lucky me. Nagumo: (slowly moves mathematical ministrations towards your core, purring) Feeling lucky now~?
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filiazpink · 3 months ago
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🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷
orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)
summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.
a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll  =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞
word count: 1139
proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)
read part 2 here: 💞💞
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.
your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.
you were simply breathtaking. 
“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.
“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.
“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.
“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”
“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.
it was elita’s superior. 
it was you. 
oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,
oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.
STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.
orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.
“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.
“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.
“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling. 
“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.
“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”
“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme. 
orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot whenever he tried speaking to you during past visits.
or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating cogless bots.
d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did you assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell you that-
“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.
“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.
‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.
“,,, i need you.”
,,,
WHAT???
the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all bots in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.
“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt. 
orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.
he wished it could have been him.
but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.” 
the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.
“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.
“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.
,,,
“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow. 
orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.
“d?,,,” oh he knew. 
he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.
oh primus.
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗
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