#security alert filtering

[brucewaynehater101]

I don't think y'all understand how terrifying Oracle is. Every single action you commit on a device with a wifi or Bluetooth connection, she could find out.

She probably has automatic filters set up that ping her alerts if you talk about "drugs," "bats," "product," or "guns." If you've been arrested before, you're probably on her watchlist. In fact, everyone you know is also probably on her watchlist.

To combat this, you would have to set up codes that she will figure out within a month. That or try to communicate strictly offline (which mean more meetups with people and a higher chance of the Bats catching you).

If you knew her in person (and she's thus in charge of your electronic security), she definitely knows more about you than either of you are comfortable with.

Barbara Gordon is scary and extremely powerful

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

[megalony]

Say It Again

This is my first Aegon Targaryen imagine, I hope you all like it. any requests and feedback would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: During an awkward family dinner, Aegon is willing to sit back and bite his tongue at his nephew's disrespect. But when that disrespect is aimed at his wife, he cannot stand by.

Enjoy.

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"Are you sure you are well enough to attend dinner?"

"Aegon… I know what you're trying to do." (Y/n) looked down at her hands before she dared to look up at her husband. She raised a brow when he only smiled before attaching his lips to her neck like a starved vampire.

It would be a more fitting excuse for Aegon to say that they couldn't attend dinner tonight because (Y/n) didn't feel well enough. No one would bat an eyelid at them being absent from supper, given that (Y/n) was eight moons pregnant. And it wouldn't be frowned upon if Aegon didn't attend either and stayed to care for his wife. It was a better excuse than saying the future King didn't want to be around his family and would rather stay in his room with his wife and a jug of wine.

"And I know what you are like, dear wife. I seem to recall the maids interrupting dinner last week to tell me you'd fallen." He liked the way (Y/n) groaned beneath him when he kissed her jaw and hovered his lips over hers before pulling back when she leaned up to try and connect their lips.

His hand roamed across the expanse of her stomach and squeezed her curved hip before he shifted off the sofa and stood up. If they truly were going to attend then they needed to leave now before they were late. His mother would have his head if they were late, again.

"They were fussing," (Y/n) mumbled quietly as she held her hands out towards Aegon, a pleading look in her wide eyes to ask him to help her up.

It hadn't been as bad as the two maids had made it seem and (Y/n) flushed in embarrassment from the panic she had inadvertently caused. She hadn't felt well enough to attend dinner last week and when her foot caught on one of the many tables in her and Aegon's chambers, she went down with a thud that alerted the maids. The most damage was done to the table which legs had snapped, whereas (Y/n) only had a bruise or two and a sore hip.

The maids insisted on getting Aegon when (Y/n) felt too sick and dizzy to stand and both Aegon and his mother had come running just as (Y/n) started to feel better.

Aegon had barely left her side since.

"You hurt yourself," Aegon corrected, but he indulged her with a charming smile and gently pulled (Y/n) up to her feet.

His arm secured itself in its usual place around (Y/n)'s lower waist so his hand, clad with golden rings, could spread out against the expanse of her stomach. As much as (Y/n) loved how close Aegon was to her now she was pregnant and how it made it hard for him to keep his hands off her, she was ready to have this baby now. The constant aches and pains, the burning in her chest and the sickness she was still feeling, were growing tiresome. (Y/n) wanted her baby in her arms.

(Y/n) felt her stomach fluttering as if the babe could feel her adoration when Aegon pressed his lips longingly to the top of her head before they entered the dining room, apprehensive of what was going to happen tonight.

Everyone else was just filtering into the room, but at least the King hadn't arrived yet. Then they really would have been late if they arrived after him.

(Y/n) took her seat next to Aemond with Aegon on her right and a soft smile formed on her lips when she noticed her husband inch his chair closer until their arms brushed when he sat down. It was almost laughable how ungentlemanly Aegon sat, he slouched as if he wasn't the future king but an errand boy already tired of his job. His back slouched down in his chair, he brought one foot up to rest on the bottom of his seat and he propped his chin up on his hand.

It was a very enticing pose, one that made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat, even if everyone else around the table glared and glanced at him with odd looks. Of course no one would say anything, what could they say? He wasn't going to act with etiquette just because people frowned at him.

Just the sight of the food made (Y/n) feel her stomach do summersaults and she knew if she ate a lot tonight it was only going to come back up later. She couldn't eat much, she would face Aegon's wrath of worry later. When a waiter leaned between her and Helaena and placed down a rather large plate of meat, the smell hit (Y/n)'s nose in an instant and her hand moved to press to her nose to try and block it. The smell would usually make her mouth water but now it made bile rise at the back of her throat that was tightening and she was almost gagging at the sight and smell.

"Will you try to eat something, for me?" Aegon's voice was so quiet (Y/n) barely heard the words that dripped into her ear like melted butter. He knew how to tease her and worm his way around her and he wasn't afraid to show it in public, either.

He perched his chin on her shoulder and pressed a butterfly kiss just beneath her jaw, feeling the way (Y/n) held her breath when he did so.

The longer (Y/n) went without eating, the worse she was going to make herself feel and the more she was going to worry Aegon. He had barely gotten through the first few months when (Y/n) hardly ate anything and spiked his worry to a peak.

Everyone knew that (Y/n) was Aegon's one weakness. She could calm him down from the most sour of moods, make him smile when others had only seen him frown and make him laugh when people only saw him cry. When (Y/n) was happy, Aegon was over the moon and when she was ill, Aegon was reduced to worrisome thoughts and troubled nights.

(Y/n) put a few sweet meats and a small lump of potatos on her plate because she knew that as long as she picked at something and tried to eat, Aegon wouldn't worry. And she could feel him smiling into her neck already because she was doing as he so politely requested.

Before a servant passing behind them had chance to reach the table, Aegon reached over and took the jug of wine from his hands with a smile and a curt nod.

He already knew that he was going to need more wine than this to get himself through this dinner.

There was no point them all being here, pretending to play happy families and everyone knew it. Aegon knew his mother hadn't forgiven his father for his lenience towards Rhaeynera and her bastard children and Aegon couldn't blame her. Not that it mattered very much to him, if things went the way his father had always said they would, then Aegon would never be in line for the throne, it would pass to Rhaeynera and her bastard offspring. That was how he wanted it. But something always told him he might see the crown one day and it was a frightening thought.

Aegon filled (Y/n)'s glass and his own but kept the jug very close to his plate, he wasn't sharing when he was going to be consuming a lot of wine tonight.

"Here, cheers."

The sarcasm that dripped from her husband's voice made (Y/n) shiver and she could feel his free hand roaming over her thigh, at any moment he would probably hike her dress skirt up like he normally did just to tease her since they were with company.

(Y/n) took a few sips before putting it down and leaning back in her chair, rubbing her hands over her enlarged stomach.

It took all (Y/n) had not to groan or sigh when she listened to Rhaeynera give her little speech about Alicent. Of course she would now give her old friend praise, but it was too little too late. Everyone knew of Rhaeynera's misdeeds, it was evident any time someone so much as glanced at her disrespectful offspring.

(Y/n) was just pleased that none of them were here in the Red Keep for long, her sons were insufferable and their constant bickering and tormenting was tiresome. Especially when they riled Aemond up for no good reason and that in turn brought Aegon into his brother's defense and he could be crude and ruthless when he wanted to be.

"Let me know when you want to go," Aegon took the liberty to pour himself another glass while his lips tickled over (Y/n)'s cheek and travelled across the shell of her ear, making her shiver.

She wanted to leave already but it wouldn't be polite to go when everyone was in the middle of eating. Aegon always said it didn't matter what everyone else thought or said, he would leave with her from any event if she wanted to go. But (Y/n) didn't want the fuss or the glares or whispers of they left too soon.

(Y/n) found herself drifting off into her own world, all the noises drowning out into static while the only thing that kept her grounded was the feel of Aegon's hand rubbing up and down her thigh. Occasionally squeezing the flesh like he was moulding clay between his fingertips. Leaning to the right, (Y/n) tucked her face into Aegon's neck and hooked her hand around his upper arm. She didn't have to look up to see the smile that danced across his lips, she could feel it when he turned to kiss her head.

But her attention was brought back to the chatter around the table when she heard Aegon whisper something to Jace who was sitting on his right. He didn't mean to rile them up but whatever he had said was clearly taken the wrong way. (Y/n) wouldn't have bothered to listen if it wasn't for Jace who leaned forward so he could look directly at her.

"And what time do you return to the silk streets?"

He spoke quiet enough so that no one across the table knew what he had said, clearly knowing he would be in trouble for being so inpertenant and rude but he wore a smirk that made (Y/n) narrow her eyes in distaste.

She hadn't even been engaging in the conversation yet he had brought her into it to try and rile both her and Aegon and for a moment she thought it was working. She felt her husband tense beneath her and his lips left her head so he could turn to his nephew, but instead of spitting venom at him like (Y/n) thought he would, Aegon leaned closer with a placid, neutral expression.

"Why, do you need lessons in that department? You do know what to do, how to put it in, don't you?" Aegon watched his nephew turn a shade of beet red before a satisfied smirk came onto his face and he turned away to lean back into (Y/n).

He would let the insult slide this time, but he wouldn't stand for it again. They could say what they wanted about Aegon himself and he wouldn't care, he had no self esteem left in him to care what anyone said about him anymore.

But (Y/n)… she was different.

She was Aegon's world and he wouldn't stand for anyone disrespecting her or saying anything degrading about her like that. If his nephews didn't have respect for (Y/n) Aegon wasn't going to be easy on them. Just like with Aemond, Aegon wouldn't stand for them tormenting his brother when that was his job.

When yet more unnecessary food was brought out to the table, it set off another round of tormenting between the boys at the table and the high princes who were not in the mood for games.

A shockwave bolted through (Y/n) and she jumped, sitting upright when Aemond slammed his fist down on the table and stood up low, stooping over like a predator assessing his prey. For a brief moment, it looked like he was going to lunge across he table at his nephews but (Y/n) didn't like the smirk that overtook her brother-in-laws face.

"And a toast, to my nephews. Jace… and Luke." Aemond knew what he was doing. The smile he wore on his face and how he deadlocked his gaze with Luke showed he was doing this as a taunt, a little payback at them both. He raised his glass high while Aegon raised his glass for all of one second before he emptied it. Again.

"Aemond…" Alicent looked up at her son with such pleading in her eyes but it was overshadowed and overlooked before he rounded the table to be closer to them.

(Y/n) could feel him standing beside her chair and she dared not lean back to look at him. She didn't want to know what taunt he was going to press because he had every right to be angry with them, but this was not the place to start a fight. Not at the dinner table.

"What? I'm only giving you a compliment. Don't you think you're strong?"

Aegon lowered his foot back to the ground and pushed up a little higher in his seat, but he made no effort to get up and interfere. His hand moved from (Y/n)'s thigh to reach across and take her hand. Their fingers meshed together and he brought their hands to rest beneath his chin while he leaned to try and see the interaction happening behind them.

(Y/n) could feel the rage seeping through Aegon the moment Jace landed a punch on Aemond's jaw, who surprisingly didn't flinch at all. Instead, he smiled something sinister. And she could feel her husband straighten up in his chair and grab the arm of the chair with his free hand. He wanted to intervene now but he also didn't want to move away from (Y/n).

If a fight did break out then Aegon wanted his wife as far out of the firing line as possible.

The way Aemond pushed his nephew down to the ground with a swift, fluid motion made Jace look like a little child trying to play a grown up game. Aemond didn't want to fight him, he wasn't worth the effort and he wasn't nearly as capable or skilled as Aemond.

Keeping hold of (Y/n)'s hand tightly in his own, Aegon pushed his chair back and stood up, pulling (Y/n) along with him so they could move away from the table and towards Helaena. When they passed Aemond, Aegon reached out and placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. As much as he would enjoy seeing a fight take place and watching his nephews finally be put in their place, he knew this wasn't the time nor the place.

"Brother, this isn't the time."

"You've made your point," Sympathy pooled in (Y/n)'s eyes but it was overcome by relief when Aemond glanced at both of them and nodded. He took a step back and held his hands out in front of him, a sign to everyone that he wouldn't retaliate.

"He listens to the whore too. Tell me, how much does she charge you for her services?"

If they'd of just walked away, let the argument go then everyone could retire and the night would be over and done with.

"Aegon-" (Y/n) held her breath when her husband tore out of her embrace before she had chance to hold onto him tighter and pull him back. She didn't care about the slurrs they called out to her, they were nothing but petty little boys egging on for a fight they couldn't handle.

She could feel Aemond's hand wrapping around her upper arm and reeling her back towards him when Aegon lunged.

Before anyone could stop him, Aegon swiftly latched his hand around the back of Jace's neck in a viper grip that took the younger boy by surprise. And with venom flooding through his veins, Aegon threw him down onto the table so hard Jace's head rebounded and slammed back down into the wood, rattling the plates and tipping over a few glasses in the process.

He couldn't stop himself from digging his hand further into Jace's neck and forcing his face down until there would be splinters poking through his skin and rubbing into his cheeks.

"Say it again. I fucking dare you." He spat through gritted teeth, punctuating each word like they were poison dripping from his tongue directly into Jace's ear.

Who did his nephew think he was to talk about (Y/n) in such a derogatory way? Why was he aiming his malice at her of all people?

"Aegon that's enough. Let him go, please." (Y/n) curled her fingers around Aegon's shoulders and leaned over his curved frame until her chest pressed down against his back. He could feel her erratic heartbeat and her harsh breaths pounding against him and it dampened some of the fire raging inside of him.

"I have no qualms castrating you in front of an audience if you talk to my wife like that again."

With a final shove, Aegon slid Jace across the table before he let go and straightened up. He shook his head to rid the silver hair from his eyes and took a step back towards (Y/n) as his chest heaved and his shoulders tensed. He was done with this messed up family. He didn't want anything to do with his nephews or his half sister who could have the throne for all Aegon. He just wanted them and all their troubles, gone.

Aegon barely turned his head to look at (Y/n) who was stood partially behind him on his left before a sudden movement sent him off balance.

In the struggle, Aegon wasn't sure whether Jace had aimed for him or (Y/n) but his weak punch ultimately landed on (Y/n)'s shoulder before he gave her a direct shove, thrusting all of his anger onto her and sending her tumbling down.

A gasp broke free from (Y/n)'s lips and she couldn't help but snap her eyes shut when Jace pushed her back. It didn't take much to offset her balance when her weight was uneven due to the baby and the force of the shove took her feet from beneath her. Both her hands reached out and clamped down around Aegon's arm and shoulder, her nails piercing into his skin when she fell until her back hit the table.

Aegon slowed down the impact but he couldn't hold them both up and stumbled down to his knees. He watched in fright as (Y/n) collided with the table before she slumped down to the stone floor and leaned back into one of the chairs which stopped her from lying flat on the floor.

"Sweetheart? Are you with me?"

Aegon leaned forward and gently cupped her face in his hands and swept his thumbs across her cheeks. When (Y/n) tilted her head back Aegon clicked his tongue and made her look back at him before he pressed his forehead against hers. He watched her eyes switch from side to side until her focus finally settled on his deep violet eyes.

After a minute or two, he felt her hand twitch against his shoulder and her hands shakily move down to hold onto his forearms and a deep sigh rumbled past his lips.

(Y/n) felt his lips smother her temple in a longing kiss that caused his fingertips to press deeper into her skin but when he pulled away, the violence in his eyes was terrifying. Aegon had never been the type to lash out, he bottled everything up and drowned in his sorrow. At one point in his very young life, he had taken his feelings out on the women in the silk streets and he would shout at his mother when he was overwhelmed, but that was as far as it went.

He was too used to pain that the sting didn't even bother him anymore, Aegon would drown his sorrows and take anything life had to throw at him.

But he wouldn't settle for this.

His mother couldn't have kneeled down beside them a moment too soon for as soon as she was next to (Y/n), Aegon left her side, if only for a few minutes. He could see his little nephew backing away towards his mother like a scared little deer about to be hunted for sport and Aegon wasn't having any of it. Jace couldn't get swaddled and soothed by his mother for doing this, not like Luke who got hidden and protected for taking Aemond's eye all those years ago.

The small dagger hidden beneath the belt around his hips had never felt so heavy when Aegon wrapped his slender fingers around the handle and swiped it as soon as he got close enough to his petrified nephew.

A blinding gleam sparkled off of the polished blade in the candlelight and reflected up into Aegon's maddening eyes.

He thrust the blade's edge against Jace's throat and agonisingly slithered it up higher and higher until his head was tilted back as far as it would go and the tip was pressing up into his chin. A small scrape appeared against his otherwise clean, pale skin but Aegon was already envisioning the river of blood he wanted to see coating the floor and seeping into the cracks between the stones.

When he noticed movement out the corner of his eye, something twisted crossed his face and he pushed the blade into the flesh until a small wheel of blood started to pool and taint the reflective metal. Rhaynaera stopped in her tracks.

"Any last words?" Aegon snarled, revealing his pearly whites that matched his crimped hair and his lips widened into a sinister grin.

He had no problem slitting his nephew from throat to groin right here with an audience. If he couldn't learn some manners and he didn't know what respect was then he shouldn't be in line for the throne he had no claim to. He shouldn't be standing here in a family that wasn't truly his by blood and he shouldn't act the fool if he didn't want to risk the punishment he was going to get. Aegon had been lenient, he had let Jace say slurrs to his wife and punch his younger brother, but he drew the line at physically touching (Y/n).

"Aegon leave him alone, stop this."

His mother's words did nothing to apease the fire raging inside his stomach and burning up through his chest. But when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder and Aemond's whispers in his ear, he could feel a small slither of reason coming back to him.

"It's not worth the chaos it would ensue, you should tend to your wife." Part of Aemond would happily watch his brother disembowel their nephew and see the grief that would overcome their wretched half sibling. But the other part of him, the more sombre and sensible part, knew it was not worth the hassle.

This would cause a scene, a battle between the family and the constant fighting and bickering and torments that would follow if Aegon truly killed his nephew, was not worth it. Not when Aegon had a wife who needed him this very moment who he should focus his attention on.

Aegon punctured the blade into the soft skin beneath Jace's chin and dragged it along the side of his jaw. He relished in the swallowed cry Jace didn't want him to hear and the tears that flushed his tense, shaking face and the way his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popped out. He enjoyed the suffering and his nephew's screwed shut eyes from the minimal pain Aegon was inflicting.

He finally tugged the blade free and swiped it slowly along Jace's tunic, cleaning the blood off before he lowered the dagger to his side.

"If you so much as look at my wife again, I will disembowel you," He sneered each word quietly in Jace's ear so no one else would know what made him whimper in fear. "Leave."

He scuttled away like a rat jumping from a sinking ship and it quelled a small flame inside Aegon.

When he turned around, (Y/n) was already back on her feet with Alicent's arms safely around her in case she needed support or took a funny turn. His mother had never looked more relieved than when Aegon walked back over to her and encased his arms around (Y/n) so he could take his wife into his own arms and out of hers.

(Y/n) let her head fall against Aegon's shoulder and the cool leather was welcomed against her burning skin. But it was his hands feathering up and down her hips that made her sigh and his lips pressed against the side of her temple.

"Are you alright?"

"Hm, I believe so."

When Aegon circled an arm tightly around her waist and slowly began guiding them both out of the dining hall, (Y/n) buried her face into his neck and curled her fingers around his hip.

Aegon wouldn't let anything like this happen again.

[lessi-lover]

my best girls II a.russo x l.williamson

so this is my first throuple fic... tell me if you enjoyed, because i personally enjoyed writing this.

★ my best girls II a.russo x reader x l. williamson

as the morning broke, a gentle sunshine steamed through your curtains, gently waking you from your slumber. as an early riser and a self-aware overachiever, you couldn't help but feel the urge to get up and make the most of your off day. that, or you had been restless all night, your mind unable to give a single moment of peace.

the sheets rustled loudly, as you tried to slip out of the coziness of your bed, you cursed yourself as you tried to leave without alerting the sleeping blondes.

stretching your arms and yawning quietly, you carefully attempted to remove your body from their warm embrace. leah always alert, however, tightened her arms around your waist, pulling you back against her sleep-warmed body. she let out a soft, sleepy murmur and nuzzled her head into the crook of your neck.

"where do you think you're going, love?" a familiar voice spoke from beside you. leah grinned, her breath tickling your ear.

you turned your head slightly to see your other girlfriend, still half-asleep, shifting closer and draping her long legs over yours, preventing you from leaving. "yeah, it's our day off. you don't need to be doing anything else, but cuddling me." she said stubbornly, voice thick with drowsiness, moving her arms to wrap around your chest.

your limbs were absolutely exhausted, your legs almost falling off when you crashed into bed last night, but now you were determined to make the most of your day off from football. "i just thought I'd make us all breakfast or something…" you let your head fall against your pillow, sighing dramatically. both the blondes chuckled at you, a small glare sent their way, at their blatant ignoring of your words.

leah pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder. "breakfast can wait. right now, we want you here with us." she told you dismissively.

alessia mumbled in agreement, both their limbs tightening around you. huffing, you blew a strand of hair out of your face, as you tried to focus on anything but the intense boredom you were feeling.

feeling torn between your desire to seize the waiting day and the undeniable pull of their warm embrace, you decided to give it another try, the worst that could happen was that you were to stay bored.

this time, you carefully shifted your weight and managed to slip one leg out from under the covers. but before you could make it any further, leah's hand found its way to your waist, and she gently pulled you to her chest, preventing your escape. alessia, now more awake, did the same with your thighs, holding you securely in place.

"no stay! you promised cuddles," leah ordered sternly, her lips grazing the front of your sternum. alessia joined in, placing a soft kiss onto your hair. "we finally get you to ourselves, baby, no leaving," her usually soft voice raspy with sleep.

they really were the most infuriating women you had ever met.

trapped between their loving hold and your desire to do something other than be still, you let out a defeated sigh. it seemed that the desperation of their affection had won, and you surrendered to the comfort of their embrace.

as you settled back into their arms, leah and alessia exchanged contented smiles, their fingers tracing aimlessly patterns on your skin. leah found your hair and began to gently card her fingers through it, eliciting a pleased hum from you, although secretly you were trying anything to ease your boredom. alessia's lips found yours once more, this time in a slow and tender kiss.

outside the window, the world was waking up, and the distant sounds of the busy city began to filter into your room. but here, in your soft envelope of blankets, time seemed to stand still. with each passing minute, your desire to be productive subsided, instead replaced by an overwhelming sense of contentment.

leah's voice, soft and filled with affection, broke the comfortable silence. "We love you so much, you know." her hands rubbing up and down at your sides.

"more than anything," alessia chimed in, placing more sweet kisses to your shoulder blades, the both of them engulfing your body between their own.

you felt your heart swell with love and gratitude. "i know," you quipped, cheekily, a sarcastic smile plastered proudly on your face. "hey!" alessia grunted, her teeth sinking harshly into your shoulder, biting your skin. "ow!" you yelped, grabbing your red skin, now with indented teeth marks. alessia hummed shamelessly at you, pleased with herself.

"try again, missy." leah spoke scoldingly, the both of them ganging up on you. "fine," you said reluctantly, although both blondes knew this wasn't the end of your little 'acting out'. "but i don't have a lot of love left to share, i've got quite a hefty list of well-paying clients, y'know."

this time, you were rewarded with a slap on your thigh. Rolling your eyes at your girlfriends, you were met with a not-so-friendly slap. that was your last warning, you needed to stop now.

"stop being cheeky, it won't get you anywhere," the older blonde spoke, offering you a pointed look. "sorry loves, I love you very much." You spoke sincerely. your lips molding perfectly, yet so uniquely with them both. "you take��such good care of me, my best girls." there was so much love threaded in your words, as you wrapped your arms around both their necks, settling your body on top of them.

their smiles widened, and you were wrapped in a tight, loving hug as if they were trying to convey their love for you through touch alone.

and so, you stayed there, cocooned between their warm bodies, in a state of true bliss. the day's plans and need for productivity faded away, and you realized that sometimes, the most special moments in life were the simplest ones, the ones that allowed you to stay within the embrace of the girls who you loved the most.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Cuddling then falling asleep with him ft. cloud strife

Cloud would be so tense and stiff at first, unsure of how to let his guard down even in this safe space with you. But your gentle touches and soothing presence would slowly unwind him from his typical guarded state.

He'd watch you with an intense yet soft gaze, drinking in every feature and movement like a man parched for affection finally allowed a taste of oasis waters.

Those glowing mako eyes would study you reverently.

When you first pulled him into an embrace, Cloud would instinctively tense up out of ingrained habit.

But the feeling of your warmth and the steady thrum of your heartbeat against his chest would gradually melt away that lifetime's worth of soldierly discipline.

You'd feel his powerful arms tentatively, almost cautiously, envelop you at first - like he was afraid of shattering this tender moment with his immense strength.

But soon enough he'd surrender fully into the cuddle, nuzzling his face against your hair and inhaling your comforting scent deeply.

Cloud's body would be a tense cord of whipcord muscle and sinew, conditioned from years of battle and violence.

But lying tangled with you, you'd sense him forcing those instincts to settle, allowing the security of your embrace to unravel those deeply laced knots inside him one by one.

Despite his imposing size and physique, when Cloud finally drifted off to sleep he'd look so peaceful and boyish in repose.

You'd find yourself running gentle fingers through his wild spikes, marveling at how serene and unburdened his sleeping expression appeared compared to his typical brooding.

At the first shy rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, Cloud would instinctively rouse somewhat - those mako-enhanced senses always on alert.

But you'd softly shush him back to slumber, one hand smoothing the sunlight from his still-shut gaze to shield that striking features from the insistent morning's prying light.

Eventually he'd sigh out a long, deep exhalation of contentment muffled against your skin - a quiet, wordless expression of profound relief at being allowed this single reprieve from his usual mantle of responsibility, if only for a few precious hours.

Then Cloud would resettle fully, tangling you up even closer as if to physically encompass this hard-earned sanctuary of solace within his protective strength.

[konigbabe]

mosaic of us

Pairing: plaga!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 6k

Tags/warnings: smut; no y/n; infected Leon (las plagas); p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; rough sex; creampie; manhandling; Leon's a menace and this is yet another pure filth

Summary: Hidden in the village, Leon's condition keeps deteriorating; somehow, his kiss seems to ignite something deep inside you. Something primal — savage in its roots.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. R is for rough sex.

I sincerely apologize for this mess. Divider is mine.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

You notice the veins around his eyes growing more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. It’s as if something inside him is struggling to break free from its confines, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

The glow of the sun filters through the gaps in the wooden walls of the shed, illuminating the space with a warm, golden light. You stand there, hidden away from the villagers (who managed to overrun you not even an hour ago), as a gentle breeze weaves through the nearby trees. It's a sweet melody that accompanies the soft whispers of the diary's pages, its newfound freshness almost palpable as you trace your fingers along its surface.

The air still carries the scent of damp wood and earth, with a hint of mustiness. The shed’s been abandoned for too long, left to the mercy of the elements. Like a forgotten tomb, filled with the memories of a long-departed soul. Neglected in its wake.

Reading page after page – each with intriguing materials hidden inside its folds, you let the ink come alive, painting vivid pictures of his observations.

July 10, 2004

Today marks another day of failed attempts at finding a cure for the outbreak in this village. The scarce resources and limited materials available make it even more challenging to uncover a solution. However, after much experimentation and observation, I finally managed to identify the mode of transmission – horizontal transmission. The virus can replicate its DNA and spread throu–

The shadow of a figure looms over the creaky door, pulling your gaze away from the passage. Your hand slinks towards the gun holster on your thigh, fingers tapping the handle with precision, safety off. You stare at the door, alert like a hawk on the prowl.

With a soft thud, the diary shuts; your senses stir in anticipation as the door opens. The hinges groan under the weight of the door. Recognizing the person entering, an exhale leaves your lips.

Leon's silhouette is backlit by the dimming light, creating a halo effect around his head. His large frame takes up almost the whole space of the door, blocking out any remaining slivers of sunlight that had managed to seep through the cracks.

He swiftly shuts the door behind him, sealing off the outside world like a fortress protecting its treasure. With practised ease, he places a chair underneath the handle, securing it.

"Shit," you cuss as you snap the safety back on the gun, "don’t try sneakin’ up on me like that again, Leon."

Leon's eyes flicker up, scanning your tense frame, alert for any signs of aggression. He nods, a wordless apology for startling you, and steps towards you with a cautious gait.

Restarting the reading, you skip through the rest of the page, flicking to the next one.

–indicates that the virus' spread is heavily influenced by the host's behavior and their relationship with the recipient.

As Leon shuffles past, the air is infused with the heady aroma of his shirt, like the sweet, earthy scent of freshly turned soil. The mustiness of its faded blue is mixed with the sharp tang of his cologne, reminiscent of the crisp bite of a green apple. He runs a hand across his smooth-shaven face, the coolness of his skin a temporary relief from the relentless fever burning inside him.

Today's findings have shed new light on the behavior of the virus. My latest analysis has revealed that the virus has a peculiar ability to alter the composition of the host's saliva. Strikingly, I discovered that infected individuals have elevated levels of–

Your eyes dart across the page, scanning the words with lightning speed. The words blur together as you scan through them with lightning speed, eager to reach the end of the entry in hopes to find a way to help Leon.

The implications of these findings are tantalizing, and suggest that the virus may be manipulating the behavior of its hosts to facilitate its own spread.

"What’re you readin’," Leon asks, stepping to your side with the knife holster dangling from his grip like a coiled snake.

The close proximity of him allows your arm to brush against his chest, the solid mass of muscle beneath his shirt a somewhat comforting presence in the chaos you’ve found yourself in. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it gently like a reassuring pat on the back as his eyes dart towards the diary.

You don’t hesitate to show it to him, its cover slightly worn and creased from your constant handling.

"It’s some kind of a diary," you watch as Leon flips through the pages, occasionally pausing to read it, "found it in one of the houses. It’s written by–I think–a scientist who was here; Doctor Javier García."

Leon's fingers trace the faded lines, the foreign letters, as if absorbing the knowledge contained within, yet the puzzled expression on his face tells you otherwise. The rustling of pages sounds like a whisper in the quiet room as he flips through them.

"It’s in Spanish," he grumbles with a tinge of frustration, his voice breaking the tranquil atmosphere. He hands the open diary back to you before rubbing his eyes wearily.

You can't help but notice the subtle movement of dark veins around his eyes, like ink spreading across a page. They're barely perceptible, but the sight still sends a twinge of unease through you.

"Yeah, that’s why I’m here, remember? Your Spanish is shit."

Leon emits a faint chuckle, so quiet that even in the closeness of your positions, it's barely audible. Shaking his head, he runs a hand through the mass of light hair, revealing beads of sweat on his forehead. Exertion fills the air around you as he moves.

"Right," taking a step back, the soles of his shoes crunch against the first floor. You sneak a peek at his arms; the veins, network of obsidian tributaries, ripple just beneath the surface of his skin, "Right."

"Did you find out Baby Eagle’s position?" you inquire, your voice echoing through the empty space.

Leon shakes his head, causing the pushed-back hair to fall back over his face, before he speaks again in a soft, hushed tone, "No; got a call from Luis. They’re hiding in the castle." His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, and you strain to hear him.

Speaking of Luis–

Looking back at the book in your hand, you remember the last passage. The first thing you read when you were left alone in this shed.

"About Luis," you murmur, your fingers deftly flipping through the pages until you reach the last inked page. Leon’s eyes follow your hands as you open the page, the words there shaky, the paper wrinkled and smudged with ink. It's like a relic from another time, something that has weathered the storm of time and come out the other side. Written in a hurry; but it’s there as you read it out loud, slowly translating the foreign language:

September 18, 2004

Today, another scientist arrived in this remote village. After a brief conversation about my project, he evaded my queries about his presence here. He divulged information about a private island facility and expressed a keen interest in developing a cure for the virus. However, I couldn't help but sense an underlying malice in his intentions towards the virus. I intend to find out more about this man.

Your eyes scan the smudged ink of another passage, attempting to make sense of the faded words, but it’s no use.

Back facing Leon, you speak, "That’s gotta be Luis, right?," voice filled with suspicion, "Two weeks ago, this García met Luis and now he’s gone. His personal belongings are all here - don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

A low groan interrupts your train of thought, causing you to furrow your brow.

"Leon?"

You turn around and watch as Leon stands a mere footstep before you. Palm resting on his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, you feel your heartbeat pick up; the veins now spreading like poison ivy, creating an intriguing mosaic. The ebony tendrils slither over his skin, covering his neck and sneaking inside the folds of his dirty shirt.

Another guttural growl emanates from his throat, so animalistic and raw that it sends shivers down your spine. Your hand instinctively reaches for Leon's blade, which was left on the table moments ago, while your other hand grips the wooden surface to steady yourself.

"Leon," you repeat in hopes to reach the man’s attention, "what’s wrong?"

Your attempts to reach him prove futile; you stand patiently, gaze firmly following his every movement–with a precise step, you stroll in front of him. Another guttural sound finds its way out of Leon as he moves his hands to his temples, pushing against the thin skin as if he could alleviate a headache.

As you watch, the veins around his eyes grow more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. Something inside him seems to be struggling to break free, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

"Leon!"

You take a step back as he lunges forward, his movements erratic and uncontrolled.

Anticipating a strike, you raise the knife, its point aimed at Leon’s upper body. Your heart jackhammer in your chest, you brace yourself for the attack; muscles coiled and ready for defence. But before you can make a move, Leon's hand is already on your wrist, his grip vice-like as he twists the blade away from you. You gasp in pain, feeling the sharp sting of the metal cutting into your skin.

The ground feels gritty beneath your feet as you struggle to maintain your balance, trying to free yourself from Leon's grasp. But the man seems to be in complete control, his movements fluid and effortless. Your heart races faster as you realize the danger you're in. This man could easily overpower you, could easily harm you if he wanted to.

A pained gasp leaves your tightening throat as Leon’s hot breath fans over your face. And then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

It’s messy. Needy.

Wet.

Taken by surprise, your mind races; struggling to make sense of what’s happening. The taste of his lips is familiar, certainly not the first time he kissed you. But never like that – and never when infected.

You can taste the slight tinge of mint on his tongue as it sneaks inside your mouth. His hands, strong and calloused, grip your jaw, tilting your head as his hips back you against the table. Leon’s body easily keeps yours restrained, his body heat almost scorching you. You can feel his every move, every twitch of a muscle, every shiver that runs down his spine. It's like being consumed by a wild, untamed force that you can't resist.

The dominance in his behavior, the way he takes control and leaves you powerless and vulnerable; it all makes your mind fuzzy. A blank canvas.

For a moment, everything fades away–

–until the realization hits you.

He’s infected.

Pressing your palms firmly against his chest, your body freezes momentarily upon feeling the taut muscles of his breastplates before you push with all your might. He barely budges. Yet, when your lips momentarily separate, you manage to call out to him one more time, "Leon!"

His eyes open. Now clear, back to the blue as a tranquil ocean on a sunny day, the agitated storm within them subsided. He looks back at you.

"I’m so sorry," he mutters, his voice low and hoarse. You can see the fatigue etched into his features, the bags under his eyes betraying his lack of sleep. As he meets your gaze, his eyes plead for your understanding.

The sound of his groan echoes in your ears as you watch him crumble before you, his once-strong body now appearing weak. The taste of his kiss still lingers on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what has just transpired. The dust swirls around him, adding to the already chaotic scene. You can feel your heart racing, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Leon," you hurry towards him.

You kneel beside him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of consciousness. His lips, bruised and swollen, part lightly as he takes a laboured breath. You can see the pain etched on his features, the lines on his forehead deepening with each passing second.

Minutes flow as you sit by Leon’s side, watching the dark veins fade slowly as he regains his strength. His chest rises and falls steadily now, the rest of his gear lying on the table alongside your gun. You take in the sight of him, his rugged features softened in the moonlight. His hair, disheveled and covered in dust, frames his face like a wild mane, adding to his already striking appearance.

You reach out to brush a strand away from his forehead, your fingertips tracing the curve of his cheekbone, tracing the areas recently covered in ebony veins.

As you sit there, the sounds of the night surround you–the chirping of crickets, the whispering of leaves in the wind. A cool breeze washes over you, the scent of earth and foliage filling your nostrils. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air soothing your nerves.

But despite the calming surroundings, the sensation within you is like a storm raging inside, the winds tossing and turning your thoughts. Your body feels like a furnace, burning with a heat that can't be quenched. Heart beating faster, the thumping becoming almost unbearable as your body begins to ache with a deep, pulsing desire.

You try to shake it off, thinking it's just the adrenaline still coursing through your system, but the sensation only intensifies. Focusing on the sounds of the night, hoping they’ll calm down the tempest within; but even the gentle rustling of trees sounds like a deafening roar. The once refreshing gust that swept over you now feels like a tantalizing stroke, sending your nerves alight.

Confusion sets in as you start to feel an uncontrollable need for Leon, a hunger that you can't explain. You try to push it away, but the urge grows stronger with each passing moment until it consumes you completely. You begin to tremble, feeling as if you're on the brink of losing control.

You look down at Leon, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. The urge like a vine, coiling around your body, tightening its grip with every passing second.

Hand reaching towards Leon’s, your fingers skim over his naked palm, the gloves previously protecting his hands now discarded on the table. His skin is cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the feverish heat that consumes your own body. Just as you’re about to give in to the fear, a twitch in Leon's hand catches your attention. His fingers curl around yours, gripping them tightly. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a deep shade of blue that glistens in the moonlight.

"You had me worried there for a moment," you say with a tight-lipped smile, elbows resting on your knees, fingers digging into the naked flesh there.

You feel like you’re burning. Hot coals pressed into your skin.

You take in his appearance, the way his hair’s matted and sticking to his forehead. Sweat beads on his skin, a testament to the fever that has been plaguing him. His skin’s still pale, but his eyes are no longer clouded with ferocity. They seem clear, focused, and alert.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs again, but this time his voice is stronger, more resolute, "I don’t know what that was."

"Don’t be," you reply gently. You try to comfort him with your words, hoping to ease his troubled mind.

"Let’s just find you a cure."

He nods before sitting up, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks fragile, like a delicate flower that might break with the slightest breeze.

"How long was I out?"

You let out a shaky breath, relieved that he's awake. "Not long," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze returns to him, studying his features with an intensity that you can't explain. The sharp planes of his face, the way his jaw tenses as he speaks, the curve of his lips. You try to push the thoughts away, but they persist, like a buzzing fly that won't leave you alone.

"You good to get up?"

"Yeah," Leon exhales.

Dusting the dirt off your knees, you get up and reach out, helping him prop himself up, his body leaning against yours. The heat from his skin seeps into yours, soothing the burning that has been coursing through your veins–

–which doesn’t go unnoticed.

"You’re burning up," he notes. His knuckles lightly press onto the side of your neck, against the jugular vein. Heart thumping, you swallow as you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs only intensify the longer Leon’s hand remains on your throat.

"Your heart rate’s elevated," his hand finally leaves your skin, "something’s wrong."

With a firm grasp on your upper arm and without much struggle from your side, he beckons you onto the table decorated with all your gear. Skin pricklening with sensation as he guides you onto the table – it’s old wooden surface creaking slightly underneath your weish as you settle onto its surface, feeling the rough wood groan underneath your palms.

The firm press of his hands on your ribcage is like a spark to a fuse, igniting a flame within you. The heat spreads throughout your body, intensifying with each passing moment. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the wave of desire that threatens to consume you.

"I’m alright," you assure him, trying to maintain your composure; yet you allow him his hands to roam over your body as if you were actually hurt.

Leon's eyes bore into yours, intense and unwavering. His sharp gaze betrayed his concern, a worry etched into the creases of his forehead. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that he was only looking out for you.

As you gaze at him, you notice the veins slowly returning to his skin; slowly faded over, the pinkish hue underneath his eyes seems to conceal them, but only from afar. Up close, you can see the delicate tracery of veins pulsating just beneath the surface of his skin.

"Are you sure?"

There’s worry evident in his voice as he rests his palms next to yours, enclosing you in his arms.

The weight of his touch’s comforting your heating body.

Your hand moves like a feather, tracing the intricate network of veins spreading across the contours of his face; his eyes flicker down, on your legs, as you stay mesmerized (and slowly being consumed by the raw power of your desire) by the way the veins seems to gain color, fill into the same darkness they were before, underneath your touch. As if they were following your lead.

Leon’s breath quickens as you continue. You try to steady yourself, to push back against the growing tide of desire that threatens to overwhelm you, but it's no use.

Leon's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and unwavering as the color regains its sickly yellow tone, thin black veins dancing inside his irises like ink on paper. You can see the concern there, the worry that something might be wrong, but you also see something else. Something that sends a thrill through you despite the situation. He's looking at you like he wants you, like he's been waiting for this moment for ages.

The air thinkens with a palpable tension as you both hold each other’s gaze, lost in the charged atmosphere between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the electricity in the air, the way your heart races in your chest.

"I’m fine," a faint breath leaves your parted lips when your thumb reaches the slightly wider black vein leading towards his lower lip.

Everything after that seems like a haze. As if you’re observing from afar. Watching a play unfold from the balcony. Detached.

Your lips lock with Leon’s with a wild, raw passion.

It’s fervent.

Intense and fueled by a primal yearning that’s been brewing inside you ever since he kissed you a mere hour ago. Your hands grip Leon’s shoulders, steadying yourself against the mass of muscle standing between your legs.

His kisses are searing – cardinal, almost animalistic and completely uncontrolled; fueled by crude desire that seems to consume him fully. He kisses you with reckless abandon, as if he can't get enough of you. His lips are hot and wet against yours, his breath ragged, and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he presses himself against you. It's like he's trying to meld his body with yours, to become one with you, and the sheer intensity of it all is almost too much to bear.

Leon’s hand roam over your body with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. Guttural, deep grunts reverberate through your body.

Hands reaching between your bodies, you tug at the shirt covering his torso – the fabric slides over his head like a curtain revealing a work of art. Taut muscles and veins ripple beneath his skin; your eyes pierce into his chest, the mosaic of black veins creating a network of rivers.

As you trace your fingertips over his skin, every nerve ending seems to come alive, humming with a primal energy that electrifies your senses. The heat emanating from his body is like a flame, casting flickering shadows across the walls of the room; his skin’s like silk, soft to the touch, but strong and sturdy underneath.

The scent of sweat and musk fills your nostrils, overwhelming and intoxicating, pulling you in even closer to him. It's like a drug, addicting and heady, and you can't seem to get enough of it. As you run your hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch, you can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his in the most sensuous way.

Your shirt soon follows Leon's, falling to the ground in a heap as you find yourself back in the kiss. It's like a symphony of tangled limbs, gasping breaths, and frenzied moans, each one building on the last until you're both lost in a wild, primal dance.

"Fuck–"

Everything seems brumous.

A cloud of haze covering your brain.

Feeling the wetness pool between your legs, heart beating heavy and strong against your ribcage, Leon’s name escapes your mouth as his lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake; the scrape of his teeth against your skin, nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

As Leon's fingers trace the contours of your curves, the sound of your ragged breaths fills the room, intermingling with the sound of his own. You find yourself lost in the sensation of his touch, the way his fingers seem to know exactly where to go, where to press, where to tease.

Your bodies collide with a force that leaves you gasping for air. Like the collision of two stars, sending shockwaves through the universe.

Unbridled desire. Wild, untamed dance of bodies.

No longer two separate beings, but a single entity, fused together in a frenzy of passion.

Leon's hands move with a speed and precision that makes your head spin, as he undresses you with an urgency that feels primal. His lips, soft yet insistent, cover yours in a heady, dizzying kiss that leaves you breathless.

It's overwhelming, intoxicating, and all-consuming–

–addicting.

The room spins as you lose yourself in the frenzy of desire. Every touch, every kiss, every breath ignites a fire deep within you, a hunger that can only be sated by this man before you.

His fingers find your cunt–wet, completely soaked as if you’ve already being fucked; yet he hasn’t even touched you.

"Jesus Christ," Leon groans upon the feeling of your slick walls enveloping his fingers, "you’re already soaked."

Head tilted back, your hips buck into his hand as he traces the length of your cunt, pressing his thumb against your aching clit. Pain shoots up your body, spreading like venom. It's almost too much, the intensity of it all, but you find yourself craving more, unable to resist the addictive pull that Leon has over you.

Sweet as poison.

A plague.

The tension in your muscles melts away with each inch of Leon’s fingers sinking inside you; a groan escapes your lips as sense of release washes over you; the tension in your body melts away, like ice thawing under a warm sun. Eyes closed, you focus on the sensation of Leon’s fingers pushing deeper, stretching you in a way that feels both strange and satisfying.

Your mind is clouded with a dizzying cocktail of lust and desire as Leon takes control, his touch igniting a fierce hunger that you can't ignore.

Your hand grips his hair, feeling the strands slipping between your fingers like silk. You pull him towards you, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His eyes meet yours, and you see the intensity in them, a hunger that matches your own.

"Fuck me, Leon—"

The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think. Your body has taken over, consumed by a desire that you can no longer control.

—you just can't help yourself anymore.

As Leon strips down, piece by piece, you find yourself drawn to the way his body moves with such fluidity. Your eyes take in every inch of him, from the rippling muscles to the way the light dances across his skin. Leon’s body completely covered by the system of ebony veins, your eyes following the lines for a second.

It's as if his body was made to be admired, and you find yourself doing just that.

The vulnerability of the moment is not lost on you, and the thrill of it all sends a jolt of excitement racing through your veins. Here you are, both of you completely naked, with nothing to hide. It's as if you've shed your layers of clothing and your inhibitions along with it, leaving only raw desire in its wake. The air between you is charged, electrified with anticipation and lust, and you can't wait to explore every inch of him.

Leon follows your order. Hand wrapping around his throbbing cock, your legs spread wider to accomodate his hips. Your eyes fixate on the thick, pulsating vein that runs along his length, now pitch black in color; like a lightning strike, surrounded by smaller ebony veins.

With each pump of his hand, the bulging head glistens with precum, taunting your hungry cunt.

His name leaves your mouth in a gasp as the tip brushes against your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire and a hint of mischief, as he teases your entrance with the blunt head of his cock. His hips move forward, the tip disappearing inside you, stretching you wide with a delicious ache.

His arm reaches forward; guiding you down to lie onto the rough surface of the wooden table as he slowly splits you apart. The bark of the table scratches against your skin, adding an edge to the pleasure that courses through your body.

Once fully buried inside you, he stills.

Only momentarily.

As he sinks deeper, Leon's hand finds your collarbone, securing his grip. The roughness of his thumb grazes the sensitive skin of your throat as his hand sneaks underneath your knee to bring your legs higher – wrapping them around the narrow of his waist, you urge him deeper while wrapping your fingers around his forearm, feeling the muscles tense, veins darken.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare into Leon's eyes, now obscured by the black veins that writhe across the blue irises. The intensity of his gaze burns through you, stoking the flames of your desire to a fever pitch.

With a fierce growl, he ruts against you. Wild.

Leon’s a primal force, a beast unleashed, and you revel in the raw, savage power of his movements. His grip on your collarbone is almost painful, but you crave the sensation, the way it anchors you to the earth as he pounds into you with abandon.

Like an animal focused on breeding; there’s nothing but pure ferocity in the way his hips snaps against you–

– and you welcome it. Meeting his thrust.

The rough bark of the wooden table digs into your skin, but you barely register the pain as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Letting him absolute ravage you. Bring you to the brink of ecstasy way too soon. The smooth, velvety skin of his cock slides in and out of you, hitting all the right spots with unerring accuracy. You can feel the heat building inside you, the coil of pleasure winding tighter until it's all you can do to hold on.

The sight of him, his eyes dark and wild, the veins snaking across his skin like living things, only serves to stoke the fire inside you Moans mix with guttural noises; grunt, growls. Everything mixes together in one dance of primal breed.

Cock-drunk.

Fucked stupid.

That’s how you’d described the feeling when his thumb presses against the front of your throat, hooks underneath the necklace he gave you to your first anniversary.

String of curses, incoherent sentences and something vaguely resembling your name leaves Leon’s lips, painted over with black veins, eyes wide open and staring straight at you. His hand moves to toy with your clit; yet just the single flick, the rough touch uncoils the tightness inside your abdomen. Mouth open, back arched, a silent scream pushes itself out your throat.

But Leon doesn’t stop. The way your walls flutter, squeeze his cock only add to the primarity of it all. Securing his hand behind your neck, he lifts your body up, lips connecting with yours in a heated kiss as his thrusts increase.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips when he pulls back completely. Hands gripping your sides, you gasp when he single-handedly turns you around. Pain shoots through your body as he slams back inside you in one single thrust.

The table creaks and groans beneath the weight of your bodies as Leon relentlessly pounds into you.

His hips meet the flesh of your ass every time his cock kisses your womb – at least that’s how deep he feels. The air thick with the scent of sex, you groan when Leon’s hands grip your hips, forcefully pulling you towards his snapping hips to meet his thrust.

Slick with sweat, you can feel his body heat radiating against your own.

You reach one hand behind you in a feeble attempt to feel him underneath your palms. Nails digging into the wood, your fingers manage to sneak into his hair; grabbing a fistful, you force his face towards yours.

The muscles in your neck strain painfully as you tilt your head to the side to connect your lips in a teeth-clashing kiss – all while Leon’s hand sneak to tease your oversensitive clit while the other covers your hand on the table.

Meeting his thrusts, you stay in rhythm as you feel your high approaching again. Spreading your legs more apart, arching your back, the new angle allows Leon to hit deeper. To split you apart.

"Fuck!"

The pain mixes with pleasure, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god–"

His teeth sink into your flesh, the stinging ache sends you over the edge. It feels almost as if he managed to break the skin atop. With each thrust, it felt like he was hammering against the tight seal of her womb, trying to break through it with sheer force.

The room echoes with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he relentlessly pounds into you. His cock feels like a battering ram, delivering a punishing blow with every thrust. You can feel the impact reverberate through your body, causing you to shudder and gasp for air. It's as if he's trying to breach the walls of your very being, to leave his mark on you in the most primal and intimate way possible.

"Fuck; Leon–’m gonna cum–gonna–"

You feel your cunt pulce around him, like a drumbeat racing against his teeth sinking into your delicate skin. A surge of ecstasy floods your veins, a heady cocktail of pleasure and victory that weighs heavily on your mind like an anchor.

You arch your back, pushing against his chest and whispering his name into the frosty night air as his thrusts become unsteady.

Leon's tongue traces the bite mark he left on you, hands gripping you tightly as he drives himself deeper into your slick heat. His groans mix with the sound of flesh smacking together, his balls slapping against your wetness with each thrust. You cry out as he sends you spiraling into another wave of pleasure.

As he moves inside you, you can feel every inch of him. His muscles ripple against your skin and his breath is hot on your neck. His hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer and deeper onto him.

You convulse around him, your body responding to his every touch. His groans intensify, as he thrusts even harder into you, giving into the raw passion between you. He pulses deep inside of you, filling you up with his warmth.

"Fuck!"

As he moans out your name, his lips trace a path across your skin leaving a trail of wetness. You can feel the heat emanating from his hands as he grips you tightly, branding you with his touch. His body trembles as he savors the last remnants of pleasure, and the evidence of his desire stains your insides like a lustrous sheen of polished marble.

He’s branded you inside and out.

Infected you with his venom.

Your skin is hypersensitive to his touch, as if each nerve is its own entity, firing off signals that jolt through your entire body. The dull ache of pleasure and pain radiates from the points where he grips you, leaving you feeling like a canvas painted in shades of blue and purple–

–and black.

As his weight presses down on you, you feel a dull ache spread through your body, every nerve ending alive and sensitized from his touch. You can still feel the ghostly imprint of his fingers on your skin, branding you with his touch.

His forehead is hot against your shoulder, the dampness of his breath tickling your skin as he rides out the last waves of his release. Each thrust feels like a punch to your gut, leaving you reeling and gasping for air.

The sticky wetness between your thighs is a testament to his desire, a reminder of how deeply he claimed you as his own. You feel the pulse of his spent cock still buried inside you.

Your gaze follows the lines of black veins snaking up his forearm, a stark contrast to his now pinkish skin. You watch as they slowly fade from sight, disappearing like a memory slipping away. Each movement feels heavy, weighted down by the aftermath of his passion.

After a while, Leon finally withdraws from you, a pang of loss echoes through your body, leaving you empty and longing for more of his touch. The heat of his body lingers on yours, branding you with his mark and making it hard to differentiate where his skin ends and yours begins.

You close your eyes, still feeling the ghostly touch of his lips and fingers on your skin, as if he's imprinted himself upon you forever. The room is filled with the heavy scent of sex, a reminder of the raw passion that just transpired.

[dumbslvtforethan]

✁ THE DINER. #2 ethan landry

inspired by "THE DINER" by billie eilish.

warnings: stalking, obssesion, posessive, smut, spit, use of "good girl", non-con, chocking lmk if i missed anything 1092 words

navigation

THE NEXT MORNING, the sunlight filtered through your curtains, signaling the start of another day. You woke up groggy and disoriented, your mind immediately going to the unsettling events of the previous night. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, hoping for some sense of normalcy. But as you opened your social media feed, a breaking news alert caught your eye.

"College Student Found Dead in Apparent Homicide," the headline read. You clicked on the article, your heart pounding as you read the details. The victim was identified as Steve, the boy who had given you a ride home last night. Your stomach churned, and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. Steve was dead. The letter, the call—it was all connected. Panic set in as you realized the danger you were in. You needed to tell someone, but who? Mindy? The campus security? The police?

You dialed Mindy's number with shaking hands. She picked up on the second ring. "Y/N? What's wrong?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Mindy, it's Steve. He's dead. I think my stalker did it. He left another note and called me last night. He knew about Steve," you said, your voice trembling.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming over right now,"Mindy replied, her tone urgent.

While you waited for Mindy, you tried to calm yourself, but every little noise in the dorm room made you jump. The silence was oppressive, and you felt like you were being watched. to calm down you decided to make a cup of hot chocolate but in the middle of brewing the milk, your phone rang. "unknown caller". "hey pretty did you like my little surprise?" "now, call mindy and tell her that she doesn't need to come or ill gut her on the way here" the caller said "no don't do that please, ill call her" you responded, voice trembling. mindy didn't quite get why you didn't want her to come but she gave in, after all that trauma you've been trough. the phone dialed again "good girl" the praising voice said "sit on the kitchen counter for me" you sat on top of the kitchen counter as the voice said. "now, turn around" You turned around, the kitchen suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar. The voice on the phone continued, its tone both soothing and menacing. "Good. Now, stay there and don't move. I'm watching."

A chill ran down your spine as you glanced around, trying to find any sign of where he might be. The feeling of being observed was suffocating. You clutched your phone tightly, desperate for a way out of this nightmare. you felt a gloved hand on your mouth, you tried to scream but there was no hope, whoever this was, they were way stronger than you. "i waited on the corner till i saw mindy leave, it was easy getting over and i landed on my feet" the familiar voice said. he spun you around, as you were trying to fight it off he brought a knife to your gaze "stay still or ill have to butcher that pretty body of yours." he whispered in your ear you froze, tears ran down your cheeks. "spread your legs he commanded, he started to rub his clothed cock against your inner thigh, a million thoughts ran into your mind as more tears fell down. he brought up two fingers to your mouth "open" he said sticking his fingers into your throat "wider" he watched as you engulfed his fingers "good girl" he praised and took his fingers out of your mouth. he took off your pants and shirt in one swiftly motion. he put his cold knife up against your clothed clit you couldn't help but moan, a chuckle came from him. he put your panties to the side and gets a hold of your folds, dry. “spit” he demanded and held up his hand to your mouth, he rubbed your now bare clit with your own spit spreadingit all over "no, please stop, please" you begged "why would we stop if it feels so good?" he sped up his movements, making it harder to contain your moans, as you were about to burst he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the lost of contact. "please, you dont have to do this, i wont tell anyone i promise" you sobbed "thats the problem, i want everyone to find out that ur a slut that is begging for ghostfaces dick" he said as he lowered down, lifted up his mask ever so slightly that his face still couldn't be seen licking your folds "and that you taste so sweet baby" he sucked your clit as you tried to contain yourself  "ple-please im beg-ging you do-nt" you sobbed more and more, you kicked your legs hoping for some hope, he grabbed your throat and put you against the wall "you disobeyed me princess, you shouldn't have" he threw you into the floor, his hand still on your throat, you are gonna pass out. “pl-ease” your able to choke out “what? your going to pass out? poor baby, open your legs” he mocks you are able to get your legs to open when he finally takes his hand away from your throat but you arent even able to breathe when he pounds into you, fitting each bit of his length inside you “see? thats what you get, a hard floor rail by ghostface” he whispers in your ear hitting a new angle making you moan. he starts thrusting back and forth, pulling out and smashing his entire length in one strong motion. you couldn’t handle it anymore, your nails gripping into his back “please, stop please” you begged, eyes soaked in your tears he didn’t do anything but speed up his pace making you tremble you screamed as you milked his dick with fresh and hot cum, he chuckled ag the sight. “im gonna cum inside you” he whispered. panic washed over you. you tried pulling him away but you couldnt, you legs so weak from the abuse its been trough and just like that it was too late. he let out a loud and deep groan, you felt him fill you up as you cried. “i came into the kitchen looking for something to eat, im glad i found it. if you tell anyone about this, your dead.” he whispered before letting you go and storming out.

part three?

[solarmorrigan]

They aren’t high, but they might as well be.

It’s so late that it’s early, sitting in those odd hours of motionless night when exhaustion throws a ridiculous filter over everything and it’s an effort not to laugh loud enough to alert Robin’s parents to the fact that there’s an unauthorized boy in her room.

She and Steve have been lying side by side on her bed for the last hour, both knowing they should probably go to sleep if they’re going to wake up with enough time for Steve to sneak out and actually drive home safely, but they’re not quite ready yet. Instead, they’re content to be pressed together, shoulder to ankle, hands intertwined between them, content to feel the other secure and nearby.

Robin lifts their hands and uncurls her fingers, spreading them open like a star and prompting Steve to do the same, until their hands are pressed flat together with their fingers outstretched.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” Robin says, looking at the way her palm fits into Steve’s with room to spare and the way his fingers extend past hers by almost a whole knuckle.

“Probably because I’m bigger than you,” Steve says, also lazily gazing at the way their hands fit together.

“Yeah, but they’re, like, way bigger than mine,” Robin insists. “You have really big hands.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re not that big. You just have stubby fingers.”

“Rude. You just have giant hands.”

“I do not.”

“Like mittens.”

“No.”

“Banana hands.”

“You are literally the only girl who has ever said something bad about the size of my hands.”

Robin smacks her free hand against Steve’s chest. “Ew.”

Steve is laughing. “You started it.”

“Lies,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hand in both of hers so she can continue examining it. “Why are your nails so nice?”

Steve watches as Robin traces the tips of her fingers over the even cuticles and neatly trimmed ends of his nails. “Because I take care of them, and I don’t bite them, unlike some people.”

“I never bite your nails,” Robin says, smiling as Steve groans dramatically.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Nope, you love me.”

“I can love you even if you’re terrible.” Steve turns his hand so he can catch one of Robin’s and look it over for himself. “You’ve been biting your nails a lot lately.”

Robin shrugs. “Stressed,” is all she offers; she doesn’t really have to say much more for him to get it.

Steve frowns, threading his fingers back through hers and squeezing. “You used to paint them, didn’t you? Like, to help you remember not to chew on them so much?”

“I did, yeah,” Robin says thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about doing that.”

“You should do it again. Give your nails a chance to heal,” Steve says.

Robin hums, as if she has to think it over. “Only if you let me paint yours, too.”

And maybe it’s the fact that it’s after two a.m., but all Steve does is shrug and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Robin sits up on the bed like Dracula popping up out of his coffin, turning to stare at him with her bedhead flying wild around her face. “Seriously?”

“You want me to say no?” Steve asks.

“Well I didn’t expect you to just say yes!” Robin says in a hushed yell. “I thought I’d have to argue you down.”

Steve grins. “Go get your nail polish before I change my mind, Buckley.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. Robin swings her legs off the bed and goes to her dresser, digging through her makeup case and returning with a handful of black-capped bottles.

“Pick your poison, Harrington.” Robin gestures to the array of colors.

Steve is slow to sit up, stretching and groaning before he turns to sit cross-legged in front of Robin. “You pick. I’ve never had my nails painted before, so we’ll have to go with your expertise.”

“Hmm.” Robin clasps her fingers together under her chin, tapping her lips with her index fingers as if this is the most serious decision she’ll ever have to make. Finally, her hand flashes out and grabs one of the bottles, holding it up and wiggling it for Steve to see. “How about a little navy blue, sailor?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t tamp down his smile. “Why not?”

“Okay, gimme your hand.” Robin holds her hand out for Steve’s, palm up and fingers making grabby curls.

Steve puts out his left hand and lets Robin place it on her knee, fingers outstretched while he waits for Robin to shake the bottle of polish thoroughly and unscrew the cap.

“Try to hold still,” Robin instructs him, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she applies the brush to his thumbnail.

Obligingly, Steve holds as still as possible, content to watch as Robin works her way from his thumb and onto his index finger, coating his nails in shining wet navy blue.

He pulls his hand away for a moment when Robin has to dip the brush back in the bottle for more polish, looks over her handiwork, and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he says, putting his hand back down on Robin’s knee when she gestures for it. “You really suck at this.”

Robin lets out a surprised bark of laughter, narrowly avoiding streaking nail polish down the length of Steve’s finger. “Fuck off, I do not!”

“You kinda do, Rob,” Steve says, his voice full of warmth even as he denounces her skill with a brush.

“How would you even know?” Robin jibes. “You said you’ve never had your nails painted before.”

“I know the nail polish isn’t supposed to go over the edges of the nail,” Steve shoots back.

They both pause to look at the way the polish has been laid thick over the skin on either side of Steve’s nails and has even dribbled a little bit onto the tip of one of his fingers.

“Shut up. It’s a process,” Robin finally says, taking the brush to his ring finger.

“A process, huh?”

“Yes! You paint the nails, and then you use nail polish remover and, like, a Q-tip to clean up the edges.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just fussy, that’s all,” Robin pronounces, grinning at Steve’s little noise of offense.

“I am not fussy,” he insists.

“You kinda are, Steve,” Robin replies. “Anyway, I’d like to see you do a better job.”

“Deal,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly for Robin’s liking. “I’ll do your nails next.”

“Well that, I have to see,” Robin says, putting the brush back into the bottle and motioning for him to switch hands.

True to her word, Robin quietly retrieves the nail polish remover and some Q-tips from the bathroom and neatens up her paintjob once she’s finished, and Steve appraises her work like a jeweler looking over and handful of gems.

“Not bad, Buckley,” he says, shrugging his lips.

Robin rolls her eyes. “What are you now, a fashion critic? Hurry up and paint my nails so I can make fun of you.”

Steve’s answering grin is unsettlingly sharp, but Robin still lets him pick the color. He settles on red—“To accent the blue, obviously”—and shakes the bottle before pulling the brush and starting on Robin’s left hand where it rests on his knee.

His strokes are smooth and even, not once straying over the edges of her nails, not even over the bitten, ragged ends, and he moves from one finger to the next with a kind of practiced ease.

“What the fuck!” Robin barely remembers to keep her voice down in her outrage. “Why are you good at this?”

Steve ducks his head, clearly holding in a laugh. “I used to paint Carol’s nails for her all the time.”

“Carol Perkins?” Robin asks, brows furrowed.

“Did I spend a lot of time with any other Carols?” Steve shoots her a look from beneath his lashes before turning back to his work.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “She tried to get Tommy to do it one day and he refused, so she asked me to do it instead, and… I dunno, I figured, why not? I did suck at it at first,” he admits. “But I think she just liked having someone’s focus on her for the time it took to do her nails. And I guess I just – like, it felt good, I guess. Taking care of someone else, even just in that little way. And I liked how the nail polish looked when I finally got it right.

“Any time we hung out at her house, she’d ask me to paint her nails for her, or she’d steal my mom’s nail polish if we were at mine. It was, like… our thing, I guess?”

For a moment, Robin sits in the knowledge that Steve and Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins had actually been friends.

From the outside, the three of them had looked like a toxic hurricane of derision and unfairly nice bone structure; they were rarely seen without looks of condescending amusement or lounging around being too cool for everyone else. It had been easy to think of their arrangement as some kind of superficial bond of mutual bitchiness, but at the same time, everyone distantly knew that Steve and Tommy and Carol had been a package deal since at least middle school.

Tommy and Carol had been the only two people Steve routinely hung out with, now that Robin thinks about it. People from basketball and swim and other hangers-on came and went, but those two had been fixtures. They’d probably been his best friends.

And midway through Junior year, Steve had left them.

He’d realized they weren’t who he thought they were, or maybe he’d realized they weren’t who he wanted to be, but the fact is that he’d left behind the two people he’d known the longest and had stepped uncertainly forward without knowing if he’d have anyone at all after that.

For a while he’d had Nancy. Then had come Henderson and all the other rugrats – but as much as Steve loves them, that isn’t quite the same as friends your own age, is it?

But now, he has Robin.

And she’s going to make sure that’s worth something.

“I can’t believe I’ve had some kind of professional manicurist under my nose this whole time,” Robin laments, grinning at Steve when he glances up at her with a huff.

“I’m pretty sure you have to get paid to be a professional. Are you gonna pay me for my services?” he asks.

“I will pay you in love and affection,” Robin declares. “Money can’t buy you these things, Steve.”

“That’s convenient,” Steve shoots back.

“Isn’t it? And I’m going to paint your nails yellow next time,” Robin says.

Steve glances to the side, where Robin’s collection of nail polish sits. “You don’t have any yellow.”

“I’ll buy some.” Robin shrugs. “I think it would look good on you.”

“And you just assume I’m going to let you paint my nails again.” Steve raises an eyebrow at her as he dips the brush back in the bottle to rewet it for the last couple of nails.

“Yep,” Robin says easily.

Steve looks back down, like he really needs to focus that hard on getting the nail of her ring finger just right, but she can tell he’s biting down on a smile.

“Okay,” he finally says, quietly.

“Okay,” she echoes back, giving him a sleepy smile when he glances up.

It’s late, and it’s going to be even later by the time they can go to sleep without ruining their nails, and in fact they’re probably not going to get any sleep at all, but somehow, Robin doesn’t mind.

Even being sleep deprived together with Steve is better than anything she can think of doing apart.

[Prompt: Comparing hand sizes]

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare illness where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, it's necessary that the one they're in love with fall in love with them too. Or to fall in love with somebody else.

WARNING: Stomachaches, lung aches, nauseas, mentions of one-sided love. ANGST, with a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N woke up the next day with a ray of sunlight filtering through the small slit in the black-out curtain that was left open, bathing the room in a soft, comforting light. For a moment, she felt disoriented, but soon, the familiarity of her surroundings enveloped her mind, reminding herself of where she was and the events of the previous night. A shiver ran through her body due to the vivid memories of the attack.

The girl sighed, closing her eyes and lazily stretching out on the mattress, feeling genuinely rested for the first time in what seemed like months, a sense of peace and security enveloping her body.

Deciding to face the day in a different way, Y/N got out of bed carefully. She swept her eyes around the room, noticing that Matt was no longer there, the muffled sound of cutlery echoing from the kitchen alerting her to his presence there.

The girl walked slowly towards the kitchen, where the tempting aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted her, her eyes finding Matt, who had his back turned to her, fiddling with some items on the counter between the sink and the stove, probably preparing breakfast.

"Good morning." Her voice came out in a shy whisper, her arms crossing around her torso and a small smile forming on her lips.

"Oh my God, you scared me." Matt brought his hand to his chest, just above his heart, as his body quickly turned to face her.

"Sorry." A nasal laugh escaped Y/N's, her palms momentarily rubbing the sides of her thighs, wiping her sweaty palms on her pajamas pants.

"Come, sit down." The brunette pointed to one of the chairs around the central table with his chin, turning back to his initial task.

Y/N slowly walked towards the table, her eyes traveling through the kitchen and living room quickly, thanking mentally that Chris and his girlfriend weren't there, probably in his own room. A feeling of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach at the possibility, making her shake her head quickly, shaking off the haunting thoughts.

Matt brought the girl a steaming mug of coffee, accompanied by a small plate with two slices of toast and butter, placing them gently in front of her seat.

"Here's your breakfast." He smiled childish, a gleam of amusement in his eyes as his hands made jazzy gestures towards the itens.

"Thank you, kind sir." Y/N let out a low laugh, taking a small bite of her toast. "Wow, what are you, Auguste Gusteau?"

Matt smiled at her joke, a red blush coloring his cheeks.

"Oh, I try." He shrugged, pretending to throw his fake long hair back, eliciting a new laugh from the girl.

As they enjoyed breakfast in comfortable silence, Y/N couldn't help but remember the heartfelt confession Matt had made the night before when he thought she was asleep. Her mind flashed back to the soft words he had murmured, expressing his true feelings.

Her eyes stared at the bottom of her plate as her mouth chewed on the small pieces of toast, weighing the possibilities.

"Matt." She called in a whisper, watching the boy, who looked up from his bowl, chewing the milk and cereal mixture slowly, a small "hm?" escaping from his throat. "Would you like to go out today? With me?"

Matt's eyes widened slightly in surprise, his jaw stopping its movements instantly, swallowing abruptly the entire contents.

"Sure!" His voice sounded high-pitched. "I mean, sure." He nodded using a more casual tone, smiling sheepishly. "What do you want to do?"

"Can we go to that amusement park we passed in front last week?" The girl proposed, looking at him with expectation written in her eyes.

"Of course! Let's go then." Matt nodded quickly, rising from his chair and taking the empty plate in front of her along with his bowl of cereal, putting them in the sink.

"Wait! Now?" She widened her eyes in surprise, placing her coffee mug on the wooden surface again, her mouth opening slightly.

"Uh, yeah... I mean, only if you want." The brunette added, turning on the sink tap and starting to wash the dirty dishes, avoiding looking at the girl behind him, feeling the skin of his face burn with embarrassment.

"Okay."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N knocked twice lightly on Nick's bedroom door with her closed fist before slowly opening it. Her eyes traveled around the room, finding Nick sitting at his computer desk, probably still editing the podcast or writing a new script for the next video.

"Hey Nick." She smiled, closing the door behind her back.

"Look who decided to show up." Nick replied in an amused tone, looking up from his computer screen to take a look at her. "Did you get any rest?"

"Yeah, I had a little attack earlier in the night, but Matt helped me." She walked slowly to the boy's closet, opening it and running her hands through the ones she left there.

"Do you want to stay here with me today? I still need to finish this." The boy asked, turning his eyes back to the screen in front of him as his hands lightly adjusted the headphone around his neck.

"Well, Matt and I are going out today." She confessed, trying to sound casual, keeping her eyes fixed on the clothes.

Nick froze momentarily, his hands hovering above the keyboard as his mind seemed to work fast. It wasn't at all unusual for Matt and Y/N to hang out - even though Nick was almost always with them - but at that moment, he could feel a hint of something different behind her sentence.

"Is that so?" He asked suggestively, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Where are you guys going?"

She blushed slightly, feeling shyness at the situation, an air of confusion and excitement surrounding her mind.

"To the amusement park." The girl shrugged, selecting the pieces she would wear and finally turning to Nick.

"Hey, that's great! Have fun." The brunette smiled genuinely at her, the meaning behind his words echoing through the walls of the room.

"I will, Nick... I will."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sun shone in the blue sky as Y/N and Matt walked from the parking lot towards the amusement park, their hands almost touching from their proximity. Y/N's heart beating wildly in her chest, a mixture of nervousness and hope filling her heart.

The sound of laughter and lively music echoed in the air, creating an atmosphere of excitement and joy around them, along with the delicious smell of food and the sight of colorful lights flashing everywhere.

Y/N felt enveloped by the magical atmosphere automatically, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts about Chris that persisted in haunting her mind.

Matt noticed her momentary hesitation, even if it was almost disguised, his right hand landing gently on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worried about her distant look. "If you want, we can leave-"

"No! No, it's okay." She smiled small, shaking her head, trying to dispel his worries. "I'm fine. Just a little nervous, that's all..."

Matt smiled, his expression softening with understanding.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen... I'm here with you." His voice sounded calm and comforting.

Their eyes met momentarily, pupils fixed on each other, and the world seemed to pause its rotation. All the fear and nausea that Y/N felt seemed to dissipate. A small smile grew on her face when she saw Matt move his eyebrows slightly, with an amused glow that tried to convey some kind of reassurance to the girl.

Y/N looked away seconds later, finally able to observe every detail around them carefully.

"Wow." She opened her lips slightly, her eyes moving quickly without knowing exactly where to look at. It had been so long since she had done something like that.

Matt smiled, watching her delighted expression for a few more seconds before finally taking his eyes off her, feeling his heart speed up.

"Where do you want to start?"

The two decided to start with a roller coaster, and while they waited in line, Matt kept a light and relaxed conversation, helping Y/N to relax little by little, her anxiety slowly decreasing as they shared laughs and hidden glances.

When it was finally their turn, they boarded the cart, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through Matt's veins as Y/N felt more than ready, the adrenaline would serve her well at that moment.

Screams were shared as Matt raised his arms like a child, and Y/N let out loud laughter, their hair mixing against the wind.

The rides were complete, and soon, they disembarked. Y/N felt euphoric, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body as she bounced with each step, quick words escaping her lips, explaining every sensation she felt.

Matt observed her with a wide smile, his eyes shining with his excitement and his heart warming immensely. He felt his hands tingling, silently begging him to pull her into a kiss.

As the day progressed, they continued exploring the park, enjoying all the attractions it had to offer while eating sweets and, on Matt's side, gaining teddy bears on the little games, giving them all to the girl.

Despite the doubts and fears that still hovered in her mind, Y/N was able to relax and forget about her illness for a few hours.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

In the days following their "date" at the amusement park, Y/N and Matt continued to get closer in a different way more and more. Matt showed his affection in many ways, through small gestures and acts of service that did not go unnoticed by the girl.

In one morning that she had slept at the triplets' house again, after a significantly difficult night of meltdowns, Y/N woke up on Nick's bedroom with a mug of hot cappuccino on the bedside table next to her side, prepared by Matt before she even woke up, along with a small pink post-it containing a heart and a small "good morning" written by a glittery pen.

During other days, they shared laughs and lively conversations, Matt always there to listen and support the girl through Hanahaki's ups and downs.

Y/N lost count of how many times he accompanied her back to her own home, and there he would help her with simple tasks, such as folding clothes or making dinner for her, demonstrating his care and attention in every small gesture.

At night, before bed, when she decided to spend the night with Matt, the boy would tuck her into his arms, offering comfort and security while she drifted off to sleep. His touches were soft and comforting, conveying a sense of peace that made her feel loved and protected, something she never thought she would feel.

Over time, Y/N began to notice these subtle signs of affection, recognizing Matt's love and dedication in a new and profound way that slowly cut the thorns from the roses in her lungs, showering them with a secret passion.

At first, the girl resisted, fearing that the love she knew was growing in her own heart for the boy would only fuel her illness, but as Matt enveloped her in his warmth, she began to blossom in a different way.

Her heart, once a devastated field of withered petals, now opened like a flower blooming in the sun. Hanahaki's flowers began to slowly wither, replaced by a new type of flowering: that of required love.

Every moment shared between the two was a blessing, a relief from the pain that had consumed Y/N for so many weeks. Matt's soft touches and gentle words healed the wounds that Chris had caused, even if unconsciously.

It was just another peaceful night that the two spent together at the triplets' house. Matt and Y/N enjoyed their favorite food delivered by a delivery service while watching a movie that had recently been released on Netflix.

The proximity of their bodies on the soft couch made the girl's heart beat fast in her chest, the tension increasing with each passing second as her mind created millions of scenarios of how she could even open up to him.

Matt gave her a worried look, noticing her stillness.

"Are you okay?" He asked after swallowing the bite he was chewing of the fast food, his voice soft and full of concern.

Y/N turned her head to him quickly, frowning before nodding, feeling nervous.

"Yes, I'm fine... Actually, there's something I need to tell you." She admitted slowly, her voice shaking with anticipation.

Matt stopped his movements, resting the burger in his hands on the box it came in, focusing all his attention on the girl, his blue eyes brimming with curiosity.

"I actually need to tell you something, too." The boy muttered with a playful smile on his face.

"You can... you can go first." She asked, raising her right hand and pointing towards his chest momentarily, clearing her throat awkwardly.

Matt took a deep breath, pressing his lips into a thin line as he gathered the courage to finally express his feelings while looking into her open eyes.

"You know, we've known each other for so long, right? And from the first moment, my heart hasn't stopped beating faster than normal whenever I'm with you." Matt said cautiously, watching her reactions carefully. "And then I found out that you were hurt badly because of my brother... I swear my heart broke into a thousand pieces, and I realized how much you really meant to me. I remember the exact moment it happened. You were so pretty-" He interrupted his sentence, widening his eyes. "Not that you don't look pretty now, you definitely do, you always look pretty, stunning even-"

"Matt, you're rambling." Y/N interrupted him in a whisper, feeling her face burn with shyness.

"I'm sorry! What I'm trying to say is..." He hesitated, taking a deep breath and reaching out his right hand, taking Y/N's one, tracing her knuckles gently with his thumb.

Y/N's breathing seemed to catch, her heart beating so hard she felt like she could hear it in her ears, goosebumps traveling up her arms as her eyes focused on their intertwined hands.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N's chest bloomed in a good way. She felt as if all the roots and branches within her lungs retracted until they became dust, finally feeling as if she could breathe again.

"Matt, I... I love you too."

"You do?" The boy's voice came out at a higher volume than previously used, his posture straightening up and his fingers squeezing Y/N's hand in an involuntary act of nervousness.

"I do. You know, I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and..." She began with a deep breath, her eyes meeting his, her heart warming almost automatically upon seeing his dilated pupils holding so much love. "I thought I would never be happy again... that I would be doomed to suffocate on the petals of my own disaster forever."

She paused, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

"But then you started helping me along with Nick, and every gesture of care, every word of affirmation and every comforting touch made me feel loved in a way I never even imagined I would feel one day." She continued, her eyes shining with the intensity of words. "This is so cliché, but you showed me that I could be loved by someone."

"How did you...?"

"I heard you talking about how you felt about me in that night that I slept in your room and had that crisis in the bathroom." The girl said, watching Matt's eyes widen momentarily as a reddish hue took over his milky skin, an embarrassed smile spreading across his cheeks.

"I didn't know you were awake." He let out a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

"I know you didn't." Y/N smiled teasingly. "Why don't you give me that kiss now, huh?"

Matt rolled his eyes at her advance, bringing his upper body closer to hers slowly, resting his weight on the back of the couch with his free hand.

Their gaze met momentarily while their breaths intertwined in a synchronized rhythm. The soft touch of hands still together sending a pulsing electricity through their bodies, while their hearts beat in unison.

A shy smile plays on Matt's lips, a mix of nervousness and anticipation hanging in the air. Then, without wasting time, the boy moves forward, touching her lips in a soft and passionate kiss.

A wave of heat and ecstasy washes over them, every cell in their bodies vibrating with the intensity of the moment. They lose themselves in each other's sweet taste. Their once joined hands now travel through their bodies freely, exploring waists, hips, and shoulders.

The world around seems to disappear, leaving only the feeling of their closeness to each other, as if they were the only two beings in the universe.

The sound of the house's front door opening and closing seconds later seems to wake them up, their tongues separating from the addictive dance as their bodies snuggle against the couch upholstery again.

Y/N's cheeks burned with love and shyness while she felt like her heart wanted to jump out of her chests and probably intertwine itself with his. Matt took a deep breath, a completely goofy smile resting on his face as his blue eyes carried a dazed look.

They felt like teenagers again.

The figure of Chris climbing the last few steps of the stairs with his girlfriend behind him appeared in their vision. Matt swallowed hard, ready to help the girl next to him if a crisis came. Despite her earlier confession, he couldn't help but feel insecure that there was still some remnant of love for his brother within her heart.

But the crisis never came.

Y/N briefly greeted the couple, smiling truthful at the sight of them crossing the room towards the stairs that led to Chris bedroom, before looking at Matt again. Her left hand reached for his one, intertwining their fingers before lightly squeezing them three times.

I love you.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @iammattswife @prettydollie @imwetforyourmom @sturnzsblog @h3arts4harry @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[alexandraisyes]

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[hotmessmaxpress]

Rosquez Horror Au, Part 2

When the notification goes out it is met with groans and disappointment. 

Today’s sessions have been postponed indefinitely due to the rapid onset and opening of a Cavity. Expect more updates as the situation develops. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe.

A safety alert goes out in the local area a few moments later, pinging into all cell phones. Some fans begin leaving the stands, while others wrap themselves in blankets and stay put.

Marc sighs, leaning back for a moment and staring at the ceiling of the garage. Conversation develops around him, debating whether it’s best to stay put or go back to the hotel. Frankie gets notification that the radius of the Anomaly isn’t that large, so some of the staff start to filter out and evacuate with the promise that they’ll stay tuned for a guidance to return. 

Michele offers for Marc and Alex to go with the staff back to their hotel, but Marc shakes his head. 

“I’ll go back to the trailer.”

Frankie seems apprehensive at that, but shrugs.

“Keep your eyes and ears open. We can’t have you going Misplaced.”

Marc grins. 

“What would you do without me?”

“We don’t want to find out,” Michele offers, before making his way out of the garage quickly. Alex follows, but not before reminding Marc to keep his eyes peeled and stay in contact. 

The paddock is rapidly clearing out. Cavities aren’t something that always calls for an evacuation, especially if it’s only one, but some people prefer to keep it safe rather than sorry. 

Marc tries to grapple with the disappointment of having the race postponed. It’s hard to get pulled abruptly out of his racing mindset and then return to it later in the day. He finds himself for a moment hoping they’ll cancel the race, but shakes the thought from his head. They’ll only cancel the race if it becomes a security threat; right now they’re just playing it safe. After all, having a rider speed through a Cavity and disappear wouldn’t be ideal. 

Marc heads out of the garage and heads toward his motorhome. He considers texting Vale to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s apprehensive. Since they’ve rekindled this thing between them, Marc has been trying to keep a careful distance from the older man; to play it cool. 

It’s not working. Marc has always been entirely too obsessed with Vale for his own good, and now that he is allowed to talk to Vale again it’s all he wants to do. He wants to talk to him about everything all the time. 

Still, he doesn’t want Vale to become annoyed by him. Vale himself even said that he is still working through his anger. Marc worries that the more he bothers Vale the more likely he is to inadvertently reignite the man’s anger. Marc would never forgive himself if he ruined his second chance with Vale demanding too much time and attention. 

Marc is nearing his motorhome when his phone vibrates. As he takes it out of his pocket, he hears a whooshing sound, loud in the air like when the jets do flyovers before races. It’s followed by a boom, loud enough to rattle the metal stairs of the motorhome closest to him. 

He steps forward and looks to his right, where he can see through a gap out into an open area between garages and motorhomes. 

A Cavity has opened, and Marc gasps as he sees a woman in Pramac purple scramble away from it. Time feels like it slows as he watches her get up to try and run. He knows without a  doubt that she’s too close, and it’s too big, but he holds his breath.

Long black arms stretch from the Cavity, shooting through the air like ropes. A hand wraps around her ankle, and another around her neck. Another wraps around her waist, holding her in place as she tries to scream and fight. She kicks and flails but they’re holding her too tightly, and the hand around her neck tightens. Marc sees her eyes bulge as it cuts off her oxygen. 

The arms drag her backward before Marc can suck in another breath. 

He backs away slowly, hoping that this one is sated for now. The edges of the black hole quiver and shake, flickering like a candle, and then it seems to suck all sound out of the area as it collapses in on itself and disappears with a hiss. Marc stands silently for a few long moments, feeling as if his lungs aren’t drawing in enough oxygen. He feels like one of the arms is wrapped around his chest, though he knows it isn’t. 

He says a quick prayer for the Pramac woman, casting his eyes upward. 

“Marc!” a voice hisses. 

Marc violently startles, jerking backward. He turns toward the voice to find Vale, huffing as if he’s been running. 

“They’re getting worse,” Vale says flatly. “We need to leave.”

Marc isn’t going to argue. He follows Vale, who leads him between motor homes toward the parking. 

“Did you see-” Marc starts, brain now trying to process what he saw happen to the Pramac woman. 

Vale turns to glance at him, concern flitting across his face, and Marc loses the words he was trying to say. He doesn’t think he can speak about what he just saw without taking time to process it, and time is something that isn’t on their side right now. He takes Vale’s hand instead, and Vale squeezes it as he tugs Marc along. 

They’re near the gate when a loud crack pierces the air. Marc lets go of Vale’s hand, stumbling as the earth around them seems to rock and shake. 

He falls, landing on his backside and looking up at Valentino. Vale steps toward him, but retreats as the earth between them splits and widens, opening into a chasm deep down into the earth. It shimmers and fills with darkness.

“Run!” Vale yells, as the crack in the earth between them widens further. Arms reach up from the depths of the Cavity, reaching for them. 

Marc drags himself to his feet, scratching his knees and palms in the process. Vale runs toward the parking, and Marc runs in the opposite direction, deeper into the paddock. 

He weaves between motorhomes until he can’t breathe anymore, and he finally slows down enough to turn and check behind him. He can’t see the hands reaching for him, but he hears a scream. The blood pounds in his ears as he prays that it wasn’t Vale; wasn’t someone he loves. 

A siren sounds across the paddock, finally announcing that the situation has gotten out of hand. Marc’s heart sinks. If they’re sounding the sirens it means an evacuation; the situation is going to get worse, not better. The disembodied voice of the emergency announcement system echoes across the landscape. 

“Attention all drivers, staff, and guests. Cavities are opening at random across the area. These Cavities present an immediate threat to health and safety. Local law enforcement and the Anomaly Bureau have issued an immediate evacuation order. Please proceed cautiously to the nearest exit and move as far away as you are able. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe. Repeat. Attention all drivers, staff, and guests. Cavities are opening at random across the area. These Cavities present an immediate threat to health and safety. Local law enforcement and the Anomaly Bureau have issued an immediate evacuation order. Please proceed cautiously to the nearest exit and move as far away as you are able. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe. May Mercy be with you all.”

“Fuck,” Marc says aloud, taking off again. 

He hears another boom, somewhere off in the direction of the track, and then another, far behind him. It’s not a good sign that they’re opening so quickly. He has a moment of regret for not agreeing to leave with Michele, Alex, and Frankie. 

He needs to find Vale and evacuate. The smart thing to do would be for him to evacuate and then try to meet up with Vale, but as another shout echoes from the track Marc can’t help but want the older man in his sight. 

He finds a corner to hide in, and calls Vale. 

Vale doesn’t pick up the first time, so Marc calls again. The call connects on the first ring this time, and Vale sounds out of breath once again. 

“Where are you?” 

Marc looks around. 

“Ducati hospitality,” he wheezes in response. 

Vale swears loudly on the other end of the phone. Marc hears a boom from the other line and holds his breath as he waits to make sure Vale is safe. 

“I’m coming to you,” Vale huffs. “Don’t move.”

The line drops, and Marc swallows thickly as he hears a crack nearby. He sees around the corner as a crack appears in a nearby building, hands stretching out blindly. Marc drops to the ground, squeezing himself under a metal box attached to the side of the red hospitality building. 

He knows the Cavities don’t see; he could be perfectly hidden and they’d still find him if they wanted him, but hiding feels like the right thing to do. It feels slightly safer to make himself small like this. 

It reminds him of playing hide and seek with Alex when they were little, wedging himself into tight spaces and making it impossible for anyone to find him. He tucks his face against his knees, and squeezes them as he hears a blood-curdling scream from nearby. His heartbeat pounds in his chest. 

He thinks of the Pramac woman and wonders where she is. Being Misplaced can mean a lot of things; he wonders if her family will ever see her again, and if they do, will she be the same as she was before?

Alex had a friend named Manuel when they were growing up who carried his dog everywhere. Marc remember’s scratching its scruffy face as he watched his baby brother race. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he remembers one weekend Manuel showed up without the dog. 

“Where is he?” Marc had asked innocently. 

Manuel made a face that Marc hadn’t been able to recognize at the time; grief. He pretended as if he hadn’t heard Marc, and when Marc opened his mouth to ask again, Alex took his hand and gripped it so tight that it hurt. Marc jerked his arm away, but was silent at the serious look on his normally joyful baby brother’s face. 

He waited patiently until Manuel was gone, then asked Alex. 

“It was Misplaced,” Alex says uncomfortably. “And it came back–”

“That’s good!” Marc interrupts. Alex shakes his head.

“When it came back it was… different. It watched Manuel sleep and it never slept. It bit people and killed birds. He said that its eyes were different, and its teeth were longer. They, um, they had to get rid of it.”

Marc hopes the Pramac woman comes home like normal. 

He hears the quiet rumble of an engine, and when he looks up he sees Vale’s shoes. He drags himself up from his position to see Vale on a scooter, looking haggard. 

“Let’s go,” Vale says. Marc is only barely seated when Vale is off, pushing it to the very limits of its speed. Marc grips his waist, trusting Vale to get them out safely. He tucks his face against Vale’s back, trying not to listen to the cracks and booms they pass by. He tries to think of anything other than the screams of the Pramac woman and the scruffy face of Manuel’s dog all those years ago. 

He must have talked himself into some sort of trance, because the next thing he knows he and Vale are on the highway, passing through police evacuation checkpoints. Marc feels like his ears are stuffed with cotton, and he doesn’t let go of Vale even as the police look at him in concern. Whatever Vale tells them satisfies them, and then they’re off again. 

When they reach the hotel, Marc has difficulty standing off the scooter. His eyes are dry from the speed they rode here at, and his face feels dirty. His hands are shaking desperately. 

“We are okay,” Vale says gently. “We are out of the radius.”

“The Pramac woman,” Marc says, nonsensically. “Will she be okay?”

Vale doesn’t answer, but he tugs Marc against his chest. He wraps an arm tightly around his waist and cups the back of his head with another, holding Marc entirely too tenderly for where they’re standing. 

Eventually he stops shaking so hard and Vale releases him. 

He holds Marc’s face gently in his hands for a moment, and then presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

“We’re okay,” he repeats. 

Marc follows him through the hotel to Vale’s room, taking out his phone in the elevator to check in with Alex and the others. He informs them that he’s at Vale’s hotel, and they’re all happy to know he’s safe. Michele informs him that the race will probably be cancelled altogether due to the volume of Anomalies. 

He stays within arm’s reach of Vale, and if Vale is bothered by it he doesn’t say. He just silently starts the shower for both of them, herding Marc in and then following closely behind. He takes care of Marc, washing his hair and keeping his hands on him. 

Marc still feels stuck in a haze, unable to keep his mind off the Pramac woman. He lets Vale wash him and dry him off, and he slips into one of Vale’s sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt is a little more snug on him than it is on Vale, but it’s still comfortable enough for Marc to join Vale in bed. 

Vale is quiet, and Marc wonders what’s running through his head.

“I was so afraid of losing you,” Vale finally says. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Marc is a little shocked by that statement. 

“You got us both out,” he responds. 

Vale is silent for another long moment. 

“I can’t ever lose you again.”

Marc isn’t sure if he’s talking about being separated by the Cavity or by Sepang, but he agrees. He doesn’t ever want to let Vale go.

[jadegretz]

Lili: The Ballet of Battle by Jade Gretz

Lili Rochefort, heiress to the Rochefort family fortune, stood at the edge of a dense, foreign forest. The trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their twisted branches casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with a sense of foreboding, a chill that pricked at Lili's skin despite the warm climate. She had traveled far from her opulent home in Monaco, driven by a rumor of an ancient fighting style that could be learned only in this remote corner of the world.

Lili took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. She adjusted her gloves, ensuring they were snug and secure. Her elegant, white fighting outfit was pristine, a stark contrast to the dark, ominous forest. She had faced many foes in her time, each battle refining her skills and determination. But this journey was different. The forest was said to be haunted, and the tales spoke of formidable guardians who protected the secrets within.

As she ventured deeper into the forest, the sunlight grew dimmer, filtered through the thick canopy overhead. The sounds of the forest were unsettlingly quiet, only the occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of a bird breaking the silence. Every step felt heavy, each crunch of leaves underfoot a reminder of her isolation.

Lili's thoughts drifted back to her father's words of warning. He had always been protective, his love manifesting as stern advice. But Lili was determined to prove herself, to step out of the shadow of her family's wealth and carve her own legacy. She pressed on, her resolve unyielding.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead. Lili halted, her senses on high alert. The figure was cloaked, their face hidden beneath a hood. They moved with a grace and fluidity that spoke of experience and danger. Lili's heart raced, but she stood her ground, ready to face whatever challenge this guardian presented.

"You seek the ancient knowledge," the figure said, their voice a low, resonant murmur. "But to claim it, you must first prove your worth."

Lili nodded, her expression steely. She had come prepared for this. The figure raised a …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[percyaugod]

Gluncle Mike AU: What if

Random thoughts on what if Michael did remember.

The Pizza plex system were made to not register anyone's real name that was involved in stopping William, just in case he comes back again. Don't want him to be able to find and/or watch him.

So when Gregory notices Freddy malfunctioning after seeing him in the crowd, after his aunt was already acting weird for weeks, he fears the worst.

Gregory hesitantly tries his name and feels nothing but dread when Freddy actually registers it.

Michael Would still hate the thought of his friends being broken. He would hate a kid going through anything like what he did even more.

So Michael would go with Gregory and help him stop them in ways that would cause the least amount of damage. The less they cost to repair, the more likely they are to be kept instead of trashed and just replaced.

Using their parts to help protect Gregory is a bonus, but it also makes him feel uncomfortable as it reminds him of another time he had parts that weren't his.

Michael mentally shuts down whenever Gregory crawls in his stomach hatch. Gregory has to manually control him using the fazwatch.

Gregory is quickly learning all the words are "bad words" blocked by the profanity filter.

During the Moon section of the game, you can hear Michael trying to break the door down by repeatedly ramming into it. This gives Gregory time to get in Michael's hatch before Sun gives the security alert since he first yells at Freddy about what he did to the now heavily splintered door. Both are now banned.

I have a few more but this is getting a bit long.

[minty-mumbles]

LU Mer AU - Harsh Reality

Summary: The story of how Wild's fins got scarred

TW: Violence and blood

AN: @breannasfluff some fish for you 🐠 🐟

(Read this and the rest of the AU on AO3)

~~~

Ever since Wild and Wind had joined up with another loner- an octopus Mer named Hyrule- things had been smooth sailing. It still wasn’t exactly easy, but with two hunters in the group instead of just one, it was significantly simpler to fill everyone’s bellies. 

With Hyrule there, Wild didn’t have to leave Wind alone when he went to hunt. Hyrule also had magic, a fact he’d hesitantly revealed to the pair three weeks after joining them in their travels. Wild was hesitant to ask Hyrule to use his magic, as he didn’t want to frighten the octopus away, but when one of them did get hurt, there was less for Wild to worry about than before. 

Not having to worry so much about getting food or any injuries they might acquire had lulled Wild into a false sense of security, something he wouldn’t realize until it was too late. 

For the past day and a half, the three of them had been traveling along a sharp drop-off that led to the deep waters Wild himself had been raised in. The cold waters that rose from the depths were rich in nutrients, which allowed a flourishing ecosystem to thrive along the cliff’s edge. It was more than enough to sustain at least a small pod, but the cold waters chased away many nearby tropical Mer pods that might have been looking to expand their territory. 

Wind was amusing himself by seeing how far he would dare to dart out over the open waters before getting too nervous and fleeing back to the safety of the cliff. Both Wild and Hyrule were keeping a lazy eye on him while chatting about their next move. Wild might be comfortable staying here for a while, but the cold water wouldn’t be good for Hyrule or Wind long term. They would have to move on eventually. 

But for now, it seemed safe enough.

Being able to reassure himself that there wasn’t any danger of attracting unwanted attention from other Mer put Wild’s mind at ease. Probably for the first time since he had found Wind. he was truly relaxed. 

Dropping his guard was a mistake, one he didn’t recognize until their peace was broken by Hyrule letting out a warning screech that had Wind darting toward the relative safety of the cliff. 

Wild was caught off guard by the warning call, twisting in the water to try and pinpoint what Hyrule was alerting to. It didn't take much time to locate the threat- rather, it didn’t take long for the threat to locate Wild. 

A sharp blow to his side sent him flying into the side of the cliff. Stunned for a moment, Wild opened his mouth- to shriek, or call for Hyrule, or something- but all the water had been knocked out of his lungs. A sharp edge of the rocks dug into the gills on his chest, making it harder to breathe. Slowly, he rebounded back away from the wall, unable to control the direction he was drifting. 

Gills fluttering, he desperately tried to reorient himself. Slowly, the world came back into focus, and now that he could breathe again, other things started to filter back into his awareness. Hyrule yelling, Wind wailing, and a deep, unfamiliar snarl. 

“We’re sorry! We didn't know this was someone’s territory! I swear we’ll leave right away, we’re sorry!” Hyrule’s attempt at placating the strange Mer was lost to Wild as he managed to twist around to take in the threat, wincing as his ribs screamed in protest.

Before him, Hyrule had placed himself in between Wild and the new Mer, and was staring them down. His arms were spread out to the sides as if to block the larger Mer from swimming around him to get to Wild and a faint green shimmer in the water told Wild that Hyrule was casting a shielding spell as well. Thankfully, Wind was nowhere to be seen, and had stopped wailing after seeing that Wild was still well enough to move on his own.

For a moment, Wild could only feel gratitude that Hyrule would throw himself in the path of danger for Wild, someone who he’d only known for a few months at best. That feeling was quickly shoved aside. He would have time to be thankful after they got away. For now, he had to focus. 

He swam up behind Hyrule, presenting a more united front. The other Mer seemed hesitant to attack right away when they saw Hyrule’s magic, which gave Wild enough time to observe them. 

They were clearly a deep sea Mer like Wild, with a black tail with jagged stripes of dark purple covering their fins. The most important thing about them though, was how large they were. They were a fully grown adult, likely over seventy based on their size alone. 

And they did not look friendly.

Oh, that’s not good, Wild thought. He might have even said it out loud, but it was lost as the Mer seemed to grow tired of hesitating. In a swift movement, they twisted their body, coiling up tightly and then striking out with their tail against the barrier Hyrule had erected. Hyrule’s magic was no match for the harsh strike, and the green glimmer in the water shattered upon impact. 

That must have been what they did to me, Wild realized absently as he grabbed Hyrule and dove straight down, out of the way of the strike. He propelled them down- five feet, then ten, then twenty. 

When he finally let go of Hyrule, they were a good twenty-five feet below the other Mer, who had twisted to watch them move further away, but didn’t pursue them. Their eyes glinted harshly in the low light, and Wild shivered as he realized that the only reason the Mer wasn't following was because they were heading deeper into the Mer’s territory. There was no reason to follow because they were running away. They were just heading into more familiar waters to the other Mer.

Wild gave Hyrule a shove to get the octopus to stop clinging to him. Hyrule withdrew quickly but with clear reluctance. Quietly, Wild hissed, “Stay here. If things go bad, take Wind and get as far away as you can.” Hyrule looked like he wanted to protest, but he gave Wild a firm nod and a sharp click of agreement.

With Hyrule’s confirmation that even if things went south, Wind would still have a chance, Wild darted back up through the water toward the larger Mer. 

Attacking from below was hardly ever effective unless the one you were attacking didn’t know you were coming, and the other Mer definitely knew Wild was coming, but there wasn’t much to do about that. He had to distract them for long enough for Hyrule to slip around the side and find where Wind had hidden himself. Wild was under no impression that this would go well for him. The other Mer was half again as long as he was, and clearly much older. Wild would need a miracle to fight them off. 

As he swam upwards, he stretched out his fins as much as he could. The drag of the extra width slowed him down a little, but he knew it was worth it for the effect.

Wild knew from experience that his larger-than-average fins gave even the largest Mer pause when they saw his threat display. This time was no different, the other Mer’s eyes widening for a second. They righted themselves quickly, preparing for the initial clash, but that split-second delay was just what Wild needed. It threw them off balance, making it easier to predict their next move. 

They curled up again, clearly trying to use the same smacking move they had used to break Hyrule’s shield, but Wild was prepared, ducking around their tail. He reached out a hand toward the other Mer’s chest, claws bared, aiming for their gills. Injuries to the gills were a quick way to incapacitate someone. It was usually considered a dirty move to go for the gills, but Wild couldn’t afford to fight fair.

Border skirmishes were quick and violent affairs, and usually left one party grievously injured, if not dead. Wild knew he couldn’t hold back. He had to use every trick in the book to get the upper hand. 

His slash was knocked off course by the Mer swinging an arm out, catching Wild in the shoulder and swatting him away easily. The strength of the blow made pain bloom in his shoulder, and he hissed loudly, drawing his arm close, cradling it to his body.

The pain distracted him, and his hiss quickly turned into a shriek of agony as new pain bloomed along his fins. 

Blood flooded the water as he quickly retracted his fins toward his body, twisting around to face his opponent again, who had moved off a few feet. The Mer grinned at him with a mouth full of sharp teeth, looking not at all sorry. The claws on both hands glistened with blood- Wild’s blood. 

Wild’s dorsal fin and one of his pelvic fins burned. Every movement through the water caused the pain to flare up further. 

This time the other Mer moved first, no doubt thinking they had just guaranteed their victory. Wild wasn’t ready. He felt like he could barely move with the burn in his fins, but he didn’t have a choice. 

He waited until the last second, then flung himself out of the way of the blow, using his momentum to drive his claws into the Mer’s hip- then rake them halfway down their tail before his momentum pulled his claws right out of their flesh. The Mer howled as blood flooded the water. 

It was coming faster than Wild expected, even with the long ragged cuts his claws had left. Had he hit an artery? 

The other Mer seemed to have the same thought, hands coming to cover the wounds, their face shifting from a victorious smile to a horrified wide-eyed look. Their hands did nothing to stop the outpouring of blood. 

Abruptly, they turned and dove, sinking faster and faster through the water. For a moment, Wild was worried they were going to go after Hyrule where he was clinging to the cliff, but they fell straight past him. 

In moments, the murk of the depths obscured them. There was startling silence, unsettling after the shrieks of battle. The only proof there had been a battle at all was the blood lingering in the water and the wounds littering Wild’s body. 

He hesitated for a moment, staring down into the darkness. He half expected the other Mer to come barreling back up out of the depths, but they didn’t. 

It felt like an eternity later when a soft touch on their arm shocked them out of their staring contest with the abyss. Slowly, Wild turned to stare at Hyrule. Hyrule looked worried. His arms were full of a nervously clicking Wind, who WIld noted looked blessedly unhurt. One of Hyrule’s tentacles was stretched out to caress Wild’s shoulder.

Still, Wild felt frozen. He couldn’t move, couldn't speak. He could feel himself slowly drifting downward as he continued to not move, but he couldn't convince his body to move. 

Slowly, he could feel more of Hyrule's tentacles wrap around him, as the abyss rose up to consume his vision and the sweet blackness of oblivion washed the pain of his injuries away.

[foxymoxynoona]

guys I got mega mega hacked yesterday with remote control software. I suspect it piggybacked onto my computer from some video game mods I downloaded this summer, but my brother-in-law suggested it may have been lurking since I bought my laptop as a refurb from BestBuy over a year ago. The person was able to access both my emails and set up filters to hide the email alerts, my amazon, and make a third party charge with my credit card. Because they were using remote-desktop, I wasn't getting alerts about unuathorized sign ins, and they were able to skip 2FA phone alerts anywhere that email was supported for 2FA. Based on the filters they set, I do know they had 3 purchases planning and I interrupted before they completed the third (amazon, antonline, and pixel.)

I got a credit card text alert for the $1500 antonline order but thought it was spam, so I went to my computer to log in and check whether the alert was real, then watched with shock that someone had my secondary email open and was typing in a 2FA code and I had no control of the cursor. I immediately turned off my computer and used a different computer to go in and change passwords, flag fraud charges, lock down accounts and freeze my credit cards. After a period of time passed, we turned the other laptop back on and began running scans --we found remote desktop hackware, and 4 other "Severe" threat programs after running every type of in-depth scan possible. I spent the whole night changing every password and deleting old accounts and confirming 2FA to my phone specifically.

I had a home burglary years ago that caused lasting emotional trauma which this elbowed again. The fraud charges suck but it's the impact on my kids and the invasive feeling that sucks even more. Changing amazon email/password broke my kids' accounts on their tablets and the refresh wipes over a year of their game data, which is upsetting for them. There's the emotional stress of knowing these assholes had full unhibited access to my accounts but also to all my personal stuff --my writing, my family photos, my medical record logins. I know they don't care about those things but they where there.

If not for my husband telling me to check email filters, I would not have realized they accessed my gmail. Without the security checks, we would not have found the hackware and it would have kept happening without me understanding why.

Please use this as your universe reminder to review your passwords, run security scans on your computers, and make sure 2FA is set up for important accounts that cannot be bypassed if someone gets acess to your email. <3 <3 <3

[whywontyoucomeout]

The one with the shadows

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The full moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling grounds of Edo Castle. Perched on a nearby hilltop, Akira surveyed her target with keen eyes. The legendary "Shadow Wind" had accepted many challenging contracts, but this one promised to test even her unparalleled skills.

The castle was a formidable fortress. High stone walls surrounded the complex, topped with sharpened bamboo spikes. Akira counted at least twenty guards patrolling the outer perimeter, their armor glinting in the moonlight. Watchtowers stood at regular intervals, manned by alert archers scanning the grounds below.

Akira's lips curved into a small smile. The daimyo's paranoia had turned his home into a veritable prison, but no defense was impenetrable to one with her skills. She began to formulate her plan, analyzing every shadow, every blind spot in the guards' routines.

As silent as a whisper, Akira descended from her vantage point. She approached the castle walls, timing her movements to coincide with the shifting shadows cast by passing clouds. When she reached the base of the wall, she paused, listening intently for any sign that she had been detected.

Satisfied, Akira began her ascent. Her fingers found nearly invisible cracks and crevices in the weathered stone. She scaled the sheer wall with inhuman grace, her body moving with fluid precision honed by years of rigorous training. At the top, she deftly avoided the bamboo spikes, balancing on the narrow edge of the wall like a tightrope walker.

A guard passed directly below her, oblivious to her presence. Akira held her breath, staying perfectly still until he had moved on. Then, in one smooth motion, she leapt from the wall, landing silently in a shadowy corner of the inner courtyard.

Moving from shadow to shadow, Akira made her way towards the main keep. She froze as a pair of samurai rounded a corner, engaging in quiet conversation. Without missing a beat, Akira scaled a nearby tree, concealing herself among its branches until the danger passed.

Finally, she reached the daimyo's private chambers. A quick examination revealed a window left slightly ajar - an oversight that would prove costly for the castle's occupants.

Silently, she slipped into the daimyo's private chambers. The portly noble lay snoring on his opulent futon, oblivious to the intruder. Akira's eyes scanned the room, searching for the hidden compartment containing the scrolls she sought.

As she moved towards a suspicious-looking panel, her loose-fitting garments shifted, revealing the swell of her pregnant belly. Akira paused, placing a gentle hand on her abdomen. In the moonlight filtering through the window, her condition was unmistakable - the feared Shadow Wind was heavily with child.

Just as her fingers found the latch of the hidden compartment, a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her. Akira froze, gritting her teeth against the unexpected contraction. She held her breath, willing herself to remain silent, but a small gasp escaped her lips.

The daimyo stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. Akira remained perfectly still, her heart pounding. After what felt like an eternity, the nobleman's breathing deepened once more, indicating he had fallen back into a deep slumber.

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Akira gently caressed her swollen belly. "Please, not now, little one," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We're almost done here."

With renewed focus, she retrieved the scrolls and secured them within her garments. Casting one last glance at the sleeping daimyo, Akira slipped out of the room and made her way through the castle grounds, as silent and invisible as a shadow.

Once beyond the castle walls, Akira raced through the surrounding forest. Several more contractions hit her as she ran, causing her to pause momentarily each time. However, she noticed that they were becoming less intense and more irregular.

As she leaped over a small stream, Akira realized with relief that it had been false labor. A small smile played on her lips as she addressed her unborn child, "Trying to keep your mother on her toes, aren't you? Don't worry, we'll have plenty of real adventures soon enough."

The contractions gradually subsided as Akira continued her journey through the night. Her steps were light, buoyed by the successful mission and the knowledge that her child was safe and content within her.

Akira slipped through the shadows of the forest, her breathing steady despite the night's exertions. The stolen scrolls were securely hidden in a secret compartment of her garments. As she neared her isolated mountain hideout, she allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Another contract completed, another hefty bounty earned.

The false labor pains that had troubled her during the mission had subsided, leaving only the familiar weight of her unborn child. Akira placed a hand on her swollen belly as she approached the hidden entrance to her home, a cave concealed behind a waterfall.

Inside, Akira carefully stored the scrolls in a locked chest before finally allowing herself to relax. She sank onto a pile of soft furs, her back against the cool cave wall.

"We did it, little one," she murmured, caressing her belly. "Your mother's still the best, even with you along for the ride." She felt a strong kick in response and chuckled softly. "Already eager for action, aren't you? You'll be a force to be reckoned with, just like your mother."

As Akira rested, she reflected on the path that had led her to this moment. Orphaned at a young age, she had been taken in by an aging ninja master who recognized her potential. Under his tutelage, Akira had honed her skills to near perfection, surpassing even her mentor's expectations.

By the time she was eighteen, Akira had already made a name for herself in the shadowy world of ninja and assassins. She took on contracts that others deemed impossible, completing them with a level of skill and precision that left even her employers in awe.

Unlike most ninja, Akira chose to work alone. She answered to no clan, no daimyo, no shogun. Her loyalty was to herself alone - and soon, to her child. This independence, combined with her unparalleled skills, had earned her a fearsome reputation.

In the teahouses of Edo, in the war rooms of ambitious daimyo, in the hidden gatherings of rival ninja clans, Akira's name was spoken in hushed tones. Some called her "The Shadow Wind," for her ability to slip in and out of the most secure locations without a trace. Others knew her as "The Silent Blade," a nod to her lethal efficiency.

Most had never seen her face or knew her true identity. But all feared the possibility of becoming her target. Powerful warlords slept uneasily, knowing that their strongest defenses were as paper to Akira's skills. Corrupt merchants and scheming courtiers glanced nervously over their shoulders, wondering if their misdeeds had earned them a place on her list.

Yet for all her notoriety, Akira found a strange sort of peace in her solitude. Here in her hidden home, with only her unborn child for company, she could let down her guard and simply be.

"What do you think, little one?" she asked, running her hand over her belly. "Should we retire after this? Find a quiet village somewhere and live a normal life?" The baby kicked again, and Akira laughed. "No, I didn't think so either. There's too much excitement out there for us to give it up just yet."

As the night deepened, Akira prepared for sleep. She checked her traps and alarms, more out of habit than necessity - few would dare to hunt for her, and fewer still would have the skills to find this place.

Lying down on her bed of furs, Akira continued to talk softly to her child, sharing stories of her adventures and plans for the future. "I'll teach you everything I know," she promised. "And then you'll forge your own path, create your own legend."

With one hand resting protectively on her belly, Akira drifted off to sleep. The most feared ninja in Japan slumbered peacefully, dreaming of the new adventure that awaited her - motherhood.

Here's the continuation of the story with the details you requested, including verbal dialogue:

The following morning, Akira made her way to a nondescript teahouse in a bustling market district. Inside, she found her contact, a middle-aged merchant named Hiroshi, seated in a private booth.

"Ah, the Shadow Wind graces me with her presence," Hiroshi said, his eyes widening as he took in Akira's pregnant form. "I must admit, I had my doubts when I heard of your... condition. But you've proven your reputation once again."

Akira smoothly produced the stolen scrolls. "Your doubts were misplaced. Here's what you requested."

Hiroshi examined the scrolls, nodding with satisfaction. "Exceptional work, as always. Your payment, as agreed." He slid a heavy pouch across the table.

As Akira secured the pouch, Hiroshi cleared his throat. "If I may ask, when do you plan to... rest and welcome your child?"

"Soon," Akira replied, a hand resting on her swollen belly. "This was likely my last job for a while."

Hiroshi nodded, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Well then, I wish you the best of luck with the little one. May your child be as formidable as their mother."

Akira allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you, Hiroshi. Until we meet again."

Leaving the teahouse, Akira felt a wave of relief wash over her. The weight of the coin pouch at her hip assured her that she could provide well for her child's arrival.

Her next stop was the local midwife, an elderly woman named Hana. As Akira lay on the examination mat, Hana's practiced hands moved over her belly.

"My, my," Hana chuckled, "this is quite the impressive little one you're carrying. Strong and healthy, from what I can tell."

Akira couldn't help but smile. "That's wonderful to hear. Though I must admit, the size is a bit... daunting."

Hana nodded sympathetically. "Yes, it's a sizable baby indeed. I won't lie to you, the delivery may be challenging."

Akira looked down at her protruding belly, running a hand over its curve. "I suspected as much. This little one seems determined to make everything a challenge, even before entering the world."

"Just like their mother, I imagine," Hana said with a knowing smile. "But don't worry too much. You're strong and healthy yourself. With proper preparation and care, I'm confident you'll manage the delivery just fine."

As Akira sat up, she felt a powerful kick from within. "Well, little one," she murmured, "it seems you're eager to prove the midwife right about your strength."

Hana laughed. "A spirited child, without a doubt. Now, let's discuss your birthing plan and what you can expect in the coming weeks..."

As Akira left the midwife's house later, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The reality of impending motherhood was setting in, but she was determined to face this new challenge with the same courage and skill she brought to her work as the Shadow Wind.

The next morning, Akira rose with the sun, determined to maintain her skills despite her advancing pregnancy. She made her way to a secluded clearing near her hideout, the perfect spot for her daily training regimen.

As she began her warm-up exercises, Akira couldn't help but chuckle to herself. "This would be so much easier without you, little one," she said, patting her swollen belly. "But I suppose you're just helping me stay on my toes."

She moved through a series of stretches, her body still remarkably flexible despite her condition. As she transitioned into more complex movements, Akira marveled at how her center of gravity had shifted. "You're certainly making your presence known," she murmured, looking down at her protruding abdomen. "I've never seen my belly so round and full."

Despite the added challenge, Akira's form remained beautiful and graceful. Her limbs moved with fluid precision as she practiced her katas, each motion a testament to years of rigorous training. Her long, dark hair, tied back in a practical braid, swayed with her movements.

As the morning wore on, Akira focused on exercises designed to strengthen her core and pelvic muscles. "This should help when it's time for you to make your grand entrance," she said, addressing her unborn child.

After a brief rest and light meal, Akira spent the afternoon honing her weapon skills. Though her movements were slightly slower than usual, her accuracy remained impeccable. Shuriken thudded into targets with deadly precision, and her katana flashed in the sunlight as she moved through complex sword forms.

"Not bad," she said, admiring her handiwork. "We make quite the team, you and I."

As the sun began to set, Akira concluded her training with meditation and breathing exercises. These not only centered her mind but also prepared her body for the challenges of childbirth.

Exhausted but satisfied, Akira made her way back to her hideout. She prepared a nourishing meal, eating heartily to replenish her energy and provide for her growing child.

As she settled into bed, Akira ran her hands over her swollen belly one last time. "Rest well, little one," she whispered. "We both need our strength for the adventures ahead."

With a contented sigh, Akira drifted off into a deep, restful sleep. Her body, honed by years of training and now nurturing new life, relaxed completely. Even in sleep, one hand remained protectively over her belly, a silent promise of the fierce love and protection she would provide for her child.

The following day, as Akira was preparing her morning tea, a messenger bird arrived with a note from Hiroshi. Intrigued, she unrolled the small scroll and read its contents.

An hour later, she found herself once again in the secluded booth of the teahouse, facing Hiroshi.

"I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't important," Hiroshi began, his expression grave. "There's a mission. It's dangerous, more so than usual, but the reward is substantial."

Akira raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"It involves threatening a tyrant, a daimyo who's been pushing his weight around. The client wants him... discouraged from certain actions."

Akira's hand instinctively moved to her swollen belly. "Hiroshi, you know I'm close to my due date. I was planning to lay low until the birth."

Hiroshi nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know, and I wouldn't ask if there weren't more at stake. This daimyo, he's planning to impose heavy taxes on a village. Your hometown, Akira."

Akira's eyes widened, her jaw tightening. "What? But they're already struggling as it is."

"Exactly. This could devastate them."

Akira fell silent, her mind racing. After a long moment, she spoke. "I'll do it. Not for the money, but for my people."

Hiroshi handed her a scroll with the details. "Be careful, Akira. And... good luck."

Back in her hideout, Akira spread out the mission details on her table, her mind already formulating plans. As she worked, she found herself talking to her unborn child.

"Well, little one, it seems we have one last mission before you arrive," she said, caressing her belly. "I know it's risky, but I can't let our people suffer. You understand, don't you?"

She felt a strong kick in response and smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. Now, let's see how we can pull this off."

As night fell, Akira finalized her plans. Sitting on her bed, she looked down at her swollen abdomen. "Alright, my child, I need you to do me a favor. This mission is important, and I need to be at my best. So please, wait until after we're done to make your grand entrance, okay? Just a little longer."

She felt another kick, as if in agreement.

"That's my little ninja," Akira chuckled. "Now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow, we show this tyrant why they should fear the Shadow Wind... and why they should never threaten our home."

With that, Akira lay down, one hand protectively over her belly, her mind focused on the challenge ahead. Despite the risks, she felt a sense of purpose. This wasn't just about her anymore; it was about protecting her child's future and the future of her village. With that resolve, she drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever the next day might bring.

The full moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the tyrant's fortress. From the depths of one such shadow, Akira emerged, her black garb melding seamlessly with the darkness. Her heavily pregnant form was barely discernible, a slight bulge in the night.

With practiced ease, Akira approached the outer wall. Her nimble fingers found purchase in the tiniest cracks, and she began her ascent. Despite her added weight, she moved with fluid grace, each movement calculated and precise. At the top, she paused, scanning the courtyard below.

Guards patrolled in predictable patterns. Akira timed her descent perfectly, landing silently between rotations. She darted from shadow to shadow, her footsteps muffled by years of training.

As she neared the inner keep, voices approached. With no time to retreat, Akira squeezed into a narrow gap between two buildings. Her back pressed against one wall, her swollen belly protruding slightly into the open. A bead of sweat formed on her brow as two guards passed by, engaged in idle chatter. One guard paused, mere inches from her hiding spot. Akira held her breath, willing her child to remain still. After a heart-stopping moment, the guard moved on, none the wiser.

Exhaling silently, Akira continued her infiltration. She scaled the inner walls with the same fluid motions, though her movements were noticeably slower, her body adapting to its new shape.

Finally, she reached the tyrant's chambers. Slipping in through an unlatched window, Akira found herself in a lavishly decorated room. There, on an ornate bed, lay her target, sleeping soundly.

A small, satisfied smile played on Akira's lips. Despite the challenges, she had made it. The Shadow Wind had struck again.

But as she took a step towards the sleeping tyrant, a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her abdomen. Akira's hand flew to her belly, her eyes widening in surprise and dawning realization.

"No," she whispered, barely audible. "Not now. Please, not now."

As if in defiance of her plea, another contraction gripped her. Akira's confident smile faded, replaced by a look of concern and disbelief.

The Shadow Wind, master of stealth and timing, found herself facing an adversary she couldn't outmaneuver: the imminent arrival of her child.

Akira gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus through the pain. In the brief respites between contractions, she moved swiftly towards the sleeping tyrant. Despite her condition, her movements were still graceful and silent.

As she approached, the tyrant's eyes snapped open. Before he could cry out, Akira's blade was at his throat.

"Not a sound," she hissed, her voice low and menacing. "Unless you wish to breathe your last."

The tyrant's eyes widened in fear. "W-what do you want?" he stammered.

"The tax on my village. Cancel it. Now." Akira's voice was steel, betraying none of the discomfort she felt.

"I... I can't just-"

"You can, and you will," Akira interrupted, pressing the blade closer.

The tyrant swallowed hard. "Alright, alright! I'll cancel it. Just please, don't-"

Suddenly, the most intense contraction yet wracked Akira's body. A small cry of pain escaped her lips, and her grip on the blade faltered.

The tyrant's eyes narrowed, comprehension dawning. He rolled away, scrambling to a safer distance. "Well, well," he sneered, reaching for a nearby sword. "The feared assassin, brought low by her own womb."

Akira straightened, her face a mask of determination despite the pain. With a flick of her wrist, a hidden blade shot out, knocking the sword from the tyrant's hand.

Enraged, the tyrant lunged at her. Despite her condition, Akira moved with surprising agility. She sidestepped his charge, using his momentum to send him sprawling to the floor.

In moments, she had him pinned, her foot on his chest and her blade once again at his throat. The tyrant's bravado crumbled, replaced by naked fear.

"P-please," he whimpered. "Spare me. I'll do anything."

Akira looked down at him, realizing with a touch of amusement that her swollen belly blocked her view of his face. She had to sway slightly to meet his terrified gaze.

"The tax. Cancel it. And if I hear of any retaliation against the village, I will return. And next time, I won't be so merciful."

"Yes, yes! I swear it! The tax is cancelled!"

Akira stepped back, allowing the tyrant to scramble to his feet. As he fumbled for a quill and parchment to make the decree official, she felt another contraction building. She knew her time was short.

"Remember this night," she warned as she took the signed decree. "Remember the mercy of the Shadow Wind. And the consequences of crossing her."

With that, Akira slipped out of the window, leaving the shaken tyrant behind. As she made her way out of the fortress, moving as swiftly as her condition allowed, one thought dominated her mind: she needed to find a safe place, and fast. Her child was coming, whether she was ready or not.

Akira moved swiftly through the fortress, her steps silent despite her condition. Every few minutes, another contraction would grip her, forcing her to pause and lean against a wall for support.

"Please, little one," she whispered, her hand on her swollen belly. "Just a bit longer. We're almost out."

As she neared her exit point, voices approached. Akira quickly ducked behind a large decorative vase, pressing herself against the wall. Her protruding belly, however, refused to cooperate fully, still visible from certain angles.

Just as the guards were about to pass, another powerful contraction hit. Akira bit her lip to stifle a groan, but couldn't stop her body from tensing. The slight movement caught one guard's attention.

"Hey, did you see that?" he said, gesturing towards Akira's hiding spot.

In an instant, Akira knew her cover was blown. As the three guards approached, weapons drawn, she sprang into action.

The first guard barely had time to register her presence before Akira's foot connected with his solar plexus, sending him stumbling backward, gasping for air.

The second guard swung his sword in a wide arc. Akira ducked under the blade, her pregnant belly making the maneuver more challenging than usual. As she came up, she drove the heel of her hand into the guard's chin, snapping his head back and dazing him.

The third guard, more cautious after seeing his comrades fall, circled Akira warily. He feinted left, then struck right, but Akira read his movements easily. She sidestepped the attack, grabbed his outstretched arm, and used his own momentum to flip him over her hip. The guard hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.

The first guard, having recovered his breath, charged at Akira with a roar. She waited until the last moment, then pivoted, allowing him to rush past her. As he stumbled, off-balance, Akira delivered a precise strike to the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious.

The second guard, still dazed but determined, lunged forward with his sword. Akira parried the blade with her armored gauntlet, then countered with a swift knee to his midsection. As he doubled over, she brought her elbow down on the back of his head, dropping him to the floor.

The third guard, having regained his feet, took one look at his fallen comrades and turned to flee, likely to raise the alarm. Akira couldn't allow that. With practiced aim, she threw a small, weighted cord. It wrapped around the guard's ankles, sending him crashing to the ground.

In moments, all three guards lay incapacitated. Akira stood among them, breathing heavily. The fight had been swift and decisive, but in her condition, it had taken more out of her than she cared to admit.

Knowing that time was of the essence, Akira quickly bound and gagged the guards, hiding them in a nearby storage room. Then, moving as fast as her pregnant body would allow, she made her way to the exit.

With one final look back at the fortress, Akira slipped into the surrounding woods. The dense foliage swallowed her form, the Shadow Wind once again becoming one with the darkness. But as she moved deeper into the forest, seeking a safe haven, she knew her greatest challenge still lay ahead. Her child was coming, and the safety of the woods would have to serve as her birthing chamber

.

As Akira moved deeper into the forest, she placed a gentle hand on her belly. "Thank you, little one, for staying calm during the fight. You truly are a warrior's child."

However, her relief was short-lived as the contractions returned with increasing intensity. Each wave of pain grew stronger, the intervals between them shortening. Akira pressed on, determined to reach her hideout, but fate had other plans.

As a cave came into view, a particularly powerful contraction brought Akira to her knees. She gasped, realizing she wouldn't make it home. "It seems you've chosen your own birthing place, little one," she murmured, making her way to the cave.

Inside, Akira quickly assessed her surroundings. She removed her outer garments, arranging them to create a makeshift mattress on the cave floor. As she shed her constrictive clothing, her belly seemed to expand even further, finally free from its confines.

Akira marveled at the sight of her bare abdomen. Her once toned stomach had transformed into an enormous, perfectly round sphere. It protruded impressively, a testament to the life growing within. "No wonder you were making things difficult, little one," she said with a mixture of awe and amusement. "You've grown so much."

As the sun began to rise, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Akira found herself in the throes of labor. She pushed with all her might, drawing on the same strength and determination that had served her so well as the Shadow Wind. Yet, despite her efforts, progress was slow.

"Come now, my child," Akira coaxed between contractions. "Earlier you were so eager, and now you hesitate? The world awaits you."

Hours passed, the sun climbing higher in the sky. Akira continued her labor, her body working tirelessly to bring her child into the world. Though exhausted, she remained focused, her warrior's spirit unbroken.

As midday approached, Akira realized with a mix of frustration and admiration that her child seemed to have taken her earlier pleas to heart. "I asked you to wait until after the mission, and you listened well," she said, a wry smile on her face despite her discomfort. "But now, little one, it's time to join me. Let's meet face to face at last."

And so, in the secluded cave, surrounded by the sounds of the forest, Akira continued her most challenging and rewarding mission yet - bringing new life into the world.

As the labor continued with little progress, Akira found her legendary patience tested. The baby would begin to emerge, only to retreat as she paused to catch her breath. This cycle repeated, wearing down her resolve with each iteration.

Finally, overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, Akira let out a primal scream. The sound echoed through the cave, a stark contrast to her usual silent demeanor. In this moment of vulnerability, several realizations washed over her.

The pain she endured was unlike anything she had experienced before. Her well-honed body, capable of incredible feats, seemed powerless in this situation. The arms and legs that could strike down any foe were now trembling with exertion, unable to hasten this natural process.

Akira reflected on the irony of her situation. She, who had taken lives with ease, now struggled to bring one into the world. This realization brought a newfound appreciation for the sanctity of life and the strength of those who nurture it.

The ninja who prided herself on stealth and silence now found herself vocalizing without restraint. Every grunt, moan, and cry echoed her raw determination and vulnerability.

On her hands and knees, hips raised, Akira pushed with all her might. She, who had always been in control, now felt at the mercy of nature's forces. This position of vulnerability was foreign to her, yet she embraced it, understanding its necessity.

As exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, Akira made one final, desperate plea. "Please, little one," she begged between ragged breaths. "Come out now. Join me in this world."

Just when Akira felt she couldn't endure another moment, she felt a shift. With one last, monumental effort, she pushed, and suddenly, the cave was filled with a new sound – the cry of a newborn.

Panting heavily, Akira turned to see her child for the first time. A wave of emotion unlike anything she had ever experienced washed over her. Love, pride, and a fierce protectiveness consumed her as she gazed at the tiny life she had brought into the world.

As she cradled her newborn, Akira whispered, "Welcome, my little warrior. Our greatest adventure begins now."

In that moment, in a humble cave far from the world of shadows and secrets, the feared Shadow Wind discovered a new identity – that of a mother. And she knew, without a doubt, that this would be her most challenging and rewarding role yet.