#shell never be your ego

[queerhairycowboy]

AHHH TY SM @starchasermoons FOR THE TAG!!!!!!

preachers daughter- ethel cain

only a lad- oingo boingo

hospice- the antlers

i need to start a garden- haley heynderickx

no pressure tags <33333 @sashamiel @gaymorbidlonging

[nemesyaaa]

favorite crime // psycho!stalker!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; sometimes being the obsession of someone can turn really bad. sometimes being friend to someone doesn't mean that you really know this person, and mostly, that your kindness will be returned.

warnings : dark content. stalking. manipulation. crimes : murder/kidnapping. smut. sick, poker face, and insane behavior. toxic attitude. innocence kink. violence. dubcon. fear/vulnerability enthousiast. jealousy. dark!mean!rafe. corruption. abuse of power. creepy behavior. minors dni. as always, be careful with the warnings please. don't joke with it.

author's note : i really love how all my concepts with rafe are so fucked up. it's around 2,6k words.

as a shy and innocent girl, too kind for your own good and too sweet to attract nice boys, you had always attracted rafe's attention. especially when you were the pretty employee at his favorite video game store. it was only for you that he spent hours in front of the cash register, trying to get to know you when in reality, he knew you by heart, every detail of your life. he was obsessed with you. he was already terribly sick, diving into your perfect kindness and purity.

you didn't understand why people were afraid of him or said bad things about him because you found him charming and lovely. that was the impression he forced himself to give you. he always had nicknames for you like pumpkin, doll, cupcake, sweet, pretty thing.

the first time he walked into the store, your store manager was yelling at you. and you felt so ashamed and small. there were customers and that made you nervous. you were already crying, impossible to contain your tears in the face of the excess anger you received from this man. it wasn't the first time he did this but maybe the last.

you quickly returned to work, still in tears facing the products on the shelves and the new customer came to you. with a box of donuts. strangely, you didn't know how he could know that you liked it and that it was your favorite. but the attention was touching, more important for you.

“i bought them especially for you. it would hurt my heart if you refused them.”

“you didn’t have to do that.” you replied politely and smiled.

“i know but i wanted to do it. someone has to pay attention to you, and check on your messy health, pumpkin.”

"oh my manager is usually nice. i don't know what's going on."

"you're lying. you're lying because you're too kind to say bad things about people when they're fucking assholes. but don't worry, it won't happen again."

“how can you be sure?”

“enjoy your donuts, don’t think about anything else. let me ease you, pretty thing. ”

the next day, your manager had never been so nice to you. and the other days too. and he always disappeared in rafe's presence. it brought you a lot closer together, because now he came every day. you didn't know if rafe HAD time, or he FOUND it just for you. all you knew was that he made your days in the store so much better.

by coming here, he had become a loyal customer but also someone you could talk to, and he pretended not to know every moment of your private life while he spied on you as soon as he left the store.

he could stay in his car for hours until you finished work. he wasn't just watching you, no, he had also hacked into the cameras at your workplace to be able to record, listen and follow everything you did. nothing escaped him.

he was a jealous person and above all someone who didn't like having his ego attacked. that meant he definitely wasn't going to put up with you having this cute and perfect attitude with the other customers. well, especially men.

you were only doing your job for which you were poorly paid. to avoid getting bored and because you were trying to work on your shyness, you tried to come out of your shell by talking with customers.

but you made a mistake today. you didn't know it yet but you were going to regret it deeply and learn it hard.

"i think you're really pretty and you're so interesting..." the boy began, stammering a little, his elbows resting on the checkout counter. "i mean, it's rare to find girls like you... would you go out with me... i mean tonight haha! we could play a game ? "

it wasn't the first time you'd been flirted with, but certainly the first time you'd accepted. you had never dated anyone, you had never been in a relationship, you didn't even know what it felt like to truly be in love, to feel something for someone. and even if you were, you were too shy to admit it. but it was different, you wanted to try. you didn't have a plan tonight.

"you don't have to accept but here's my number..." he wrote on a post-it and you smiled back. you put it in the back pocket of your jeans.

you were so deep in thought that you couldn't have seen that the minute your new friend left the store, rafe got out of his car. he doesn't entered yet, he had something to sort out first.

but when he went to the store, you felt him different. there were bruises on his face, as if he had been in a fight. “what happened? do you want me to call an ambulance? "

“it's alright, pumpkin. it's just a little blood.”

“do you want me to take care of that?”

"it would be bad of me to abuse your time and your kindness. i have better things to offer, how about I walk you home tonight? i know your work is not close to where you live and i have my car right here...'

you had been surprised that he knew information like this. “no, don’t worry. besides, i’m busy this evening. ”

rafe's jaw tensed and contracted. he gave a tense and forced smile.

“ let me do this for you. you must be tired. ”

“you don’t need to do this for me, although I truly appreciate it.”

“you're wrong, i need to do this for you, sweetheart. just like everything you do for me. ”

“if you insist, it can’t kill me!”

if only you knew…

“ you're really so nice, pumpkin..."

“is that a bad thing?”

he scratched his chin with a light but somewhat dramatic smile before looking into your eyes. you were in ambiguous proximity since you were both leaning over the counter. he was taller than you, so you looked up.

"to be kind? no, not at all, sweetheart. it's just dangerous for you not to know who you're nice to. not all people are that sweet. sometimes they're really mean.”

“ what do…”

“ anyways, don't make me wait later. and you know you look really pretty today, you should dress up for me more often.”

you smiled. you couldn't ignore how nice it felt to receive a compliment, and especially from a pretty handsome boy. in one day, everything had gone by so quickly. you had a date, and rafe was taking you home. your evening promised to be perfect and unforgettable. you couldn’t wait.

at the end of the day. you had cleaned, tidied up all the shelves, turned off all the consoles, counted your cash register then closed shop in a breath of glory. you could finally relax.

as promised, rafe was waiting for you. he was leaning against his car, hands in his pockets.

he had opened your car door in a relatively clever way and then stood inside. he had closed the doors. and he had started. except he wasn't going the way to your house, he was going in the opposite direction.

“rafe, it’s not towards my house…”

“ i know, sweetheart, since we’re not going to your house.”

“but you said you were taking me home?”

“pumpkin, i lie a lot too.”

"rafe, i want to go home... seriously, this isn't fun. i have to meet someone tonight and he's going to wait for me ! "

“trust me, he’s not waiting for you.”

you were starting to panic because this really wasn't the person you knew. this time he didn't seem to be playing a character to please you. he was natural. you looked at him with big eyes. fear gripped your stomach, because you didn't know where you were going and he could go anywhere. you were on the verge of exploding, you needed to get out of that car but he was driving too fast.

“slow down, rafe. please, slow down.”

"oh no sweet thing, i make the rules here. you can't beg because i absolutely don't want to hear anything from you, you understand? i want you to stay nice and quiet like you've always been."

“rafe, fucking stop that car. "

he stopped suddenly, your head had hit the dashboard badly. he had gently lifted your face, putting your hair back in place while you cried into his hands from the emotion and shock.

“see? what happens when you swear like that? do you understand why you have to be polite now? it's a waste for a pretty girl like you to have such vocabulary. ”

you felt the tips of his lips on your nose, they were cold but comforting. there was something so bitter and disturbing in his tenderness as if there was nothing good even in his kindness. that all this affection was manipulation.

“i really want to go home.”

“i have a surprise for you. can you be patient?”

“ rafe, what is wrong…?”

“i’m taking care of you right now.”

"it's a kidnapping! i'm going to call the police."

he smiled wickedly as he resumed driving. “in your place, i wouldn’t make a single move. ”

“why? are you going to kill me?”

" oh i could, pumpkin. for now, i like you alive but if you still want to play silly with me, i might really want to. no, i will. so stay still and don’t make me be mean to you, i’d hate to have to hurt you.”

“if you don’t like hurting me, why are you doing this to me?” your tears were hot, rivers shining down your eyes. he was cruel and insensitive there. it didn't matter to him.

“ i really hate you..."

" oh such a pleasure actually pumpkin. tell me how much you hate me with those pretty annoying crybaby tears on your face. and don't forget to tell me when you're dry, i will gladly make you cry again. “

your throat felt tight and you were desperate. you had a knot in your stomach, fear that made you even more stupid and lost than you already were. because certainly, there was hatred but a lot of fear. he drove quietly, but he was mean to you. he no longer had the kind words he had for you when he came to see you at work. it was as if he was mad at you for something.

“what can i do to get you to take me home? "

“i could make you do a lot of things, but under no circumstances will i take you home.”

“you want sex? "

"oh i'm not sure that the virgin that you are would be able to make me cum but you can always prove me wrong."

“are you really going to kill me?”

“the more you ask me, the more i have the impression that this is what you would like.”

“i want to stay alive and go home.”

"you had to think about that before flirting with that idiot."

he had parked in an abandoned place, on a completely deserted road. when he opened the doors, you took your chance.

what a stupid mistake.

he was much bigger and faster than you. he had caught up with you without even running out of breath. he pulled you by the waist, pinning his arm against your bare stomach. he was clearly abusing all of his power. you had bitten him and he had released you. you fell heavily to the ground, and he positioned himself on top of you, crushing you against the grass with his fully beefy weight.

“it’s not time to play yet. try to escape from me again sweet thing, and i promise you that i will make sure that you have no more energy to run, but especially to escape. ” he had grabbed your jaw with one hand, gripping his fingers tightly against your skin. “and even if you are innocent, pumpkin. you and i know very well that you are aware of what i mean by that.”

your heart rate had increased so quickly. you were trapped and vulnerable. you wanted to spit in his face but you weren’t that suicidal.

he took your hand and placed it on his bulge which literally distorted his pants. “that's all that your heartbeat and your accelerated breathing make me feel right now. is it big? yes, and believe me i can make this bigger and very painful for you. so, no more playing, pumpkin.”

you nodded and he kissed your forehead. “you got it well, sweetheart. don’t let me be mean to you again because you’re really going to hate it.”

he stood up and extended his hand towards you. his tenderness was so unhealthy. he had taken you to the car and pulled a tied up boy out of the trunk.

the one you were supposed to see this evening. you let out a huge cry, taking several steps back but rafe took your hand, wrapping it too tightly against your little wrist.

“why did you do that? please leave me alone. i don’t want to see that!”

"oh oh, you're not the one who makes the rules here. i’m the only one who makes the fucking rules, i'm the only one who decides and not only do i decide what happens but also what role you're going to play. you wanted to flirt with this guy, go on a date with him? you had to be smarter and not do it in front of my eyes now look what you did this poor man is going to die because of you.”

"are you serious? you can't kill an innocent person! he didn't do anything."

"pumpkin, my sweet pumpkin, for every word you say, for every tear you shed, he will take a bullet. so please continue to defend him. i think we are already more than twenty"

you wanted to stop crying but you couldn't because the situation was surreal, horrible and so crazy. you refused to believe that rafe cameron could be a man like that.

“almost fifty. you're really going to kill him, sweetheart. you could be nicer. "

he was so sick and bad. he was taking advantage of the situation. it was completely sadistic. “i beg you to spare him.”

"now you beg for him? pumpkin, i’m the only one you can and should beg for."

he had fired more than fifty bullets into this poor guy's body. without the slightest shame, the slightest remorse and the slightest guilt. he didn't really feel anything. as you collapsed, completely devastated and ruined by what he had just done to you.

he had just killed a man in front of your eyes.

people always said that a guy who killed for you was romantic. but you didn't find it romantic. on the contrary, it had downright tortured you. you were afraid of him. you didn't even know how you managed not to piss on yourself because clearly, he was so creepy.

" i think he's dead." it was ironic, but coming from rafe, it wasn't funny or reassuring.

"what's wrong with you? and what are you doing with a gun? all those video games that made you sick or those horror movies?"

“watch your tone. you see how i killed him? it could be your turn too. ”

“no, don’t kill me!”

he moved closer to you, a laugh passing his lips. he knelt down to caress your tears with his thumb.

“you see what happens when you want to please others? how are you going to fix this now? ”

“i beg you to not kill me. ” you couldn't even see the ground, you were crying so much. it was a traumatic scene.

“now it's time to play. maybe i should have waited before killing him. i mean i wish he could watch you get destroyed by my cock. get in the car, and don't try to escape from me. i can be even more cruel to you. ”

he was hot and cold. all the time. you went to the car while you guessed that he must bury or hide the body somewhere. it had seemed like an eternity before he came back but on the one hand, there was something comforting about the fact that you weren't alone in the forest and that there was someone. even if it was cool.

he had gotten into the car. and patted his thighs to signal you to come on top. you didn't argue and came on his legs. you immediately felt his erection against the fabric of your underwear. it could hardly be ignored because the bulge had literally made you a few centimeters taller.

“are you still crying? he was a poor guy. he had a fucking girlfriend. do you want to date a guy who cheats on you? it's not worth it. you are better than that, you deserve better than that. ”

“by better, does that mean you? ”

“it’s different...but sure i would treat you better.”

“you killed someone in front of my eyes!”

“see? anything i can do for you.”

"you're sick and you ruined my life!"

"i’m tired of all this hysteria. i was going to kindly offer to prepare you with lube, but since you're offering me these pretty tears, we'll make do with it..."

“rafe…”

“oh no pumpkin. it’s not time to say my name yet.”

when he pushed himself inside you, the leaking tip slipped in your folds slick with a hard and brutal thrust. he made his way, watching his own cock stretching your cunt. you cried out from the pain, but you can't help but felt a little slight pleasure. “ if you're still crying for him, i swear i'm gonna fuck you until you're dry. ”

you started to bounce on him with your trembling legs, your ass slapping his thick thighs, your hair shaking on your shoulders, and your face ruined by your multiples and messy whining. you were tense as his girth splitted your sweet virgin cunt. he forced you to sped up the pace, smacking your butt every time you were too slow. his hands was big and strong, enough to feel the pain. especially, when the rings on his fingers left a mark on your poor skin. your tits were now on his hands, pressed firmly and your nipples on his mouth. he spat on them a couple of times. they were filled with spittles and marks, the succions noises in synchro with your rocking bodies. he was stuffed you with his hard dick. making you arched your back, and he placed his heavy hands on your waist, reaching your hips to help you go deeper, to fully take him, every inches.

“ it's like your pussy begging me to breed you…”

“ what…w-what is it ? ” you were too innocent to know those kinds of things.

you had the face and the attitude of an angel, too perfect, too pure, too delicate. “ maybe, it's better to show you, pumpkin. with that, you will be more able to learn the lesson and don't make me mad again. ”

“ what ? ” you gasped. you felt giddy but at the same time, curious.

“ m’ gonna make you so dirty, angel. tonight, you will lose your wings and purity for me. ”

“ please, don't hurt me ! ”

“ oh sweetheart, you're the only one to hurt me, the only one to make me do those kind of things..."

tysm @ahhnini for the idea of psycho!stalker!rafe <33

[sluts4matt]

BEACH VLOG

pairing: soft!matt x latina!reader

summary: vlogging a day at the beach with your boyfriend and his brothers is always fun. until matt starts getting handsy and you guys have to go away from the two.

warnings: SMUT, fingering, pet names, tons of praising, public, no actual p in v, fluff tbh

word count: 1079

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @kscutzzzz, might be the softest thing i've written so far tbh

"look at this shell," you say to nick who points the vlog camera at you. your body was clad in a black two-piece bathing suit, the fabric hugging your honey-colored skin nicely. matt and chris come up behind the two of you, giggling like morons.

a small grin tugs at your lips feeling matt's arms snake around your waist. your finger traced the tattoos on his left arm. "a shell?" the brunette questions, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "yes, yes," you babble like a child, "a pretty shell."

you turn in the boy's grasp, the camera still recording the two of you. his arms hugged your waist as he looked down at you. you brought the shell in between the two of you, showing it to him with innocent eyes. "see?"

matt nods, "it's beautiful." you grin, leaning up to peck his lips before wiggling out of his grasp and running back to where you got it from. "awe, so cute," chris mocked while nick cooed, the two brothers looking at matt.

"still don't understand how you bagged that at the ripe age of fifteen," chris chuckles, watching you run towards the shore. you had always been a bit weird, never in a bad way though.

the way you giggled at the smallest of things, and the way your voice would change to sounding like a child when you were excited had always made matt's heart flutter. and it still did even after five years.

"she's amazing," matt simply states, watching you bend over, the black bikini bottoms accentuating your ass. his mouth practically watered. "gonna marry her someday," matt mumbles before walking towards you.

"what are you doing baby?" he asks, watching as you scrape your feet around the wet sand and examine the ground. "looking for more shells, wanna help?" you ask, giving him the cutest puppy dog look.

matt grins, nodding his head. the two of you began to search around the sandy floor, and matt would be lying if he said he wasn't looking up every so often to sneak a glance at you.

you bent over a lot, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. god, he wanted nothing more than to rip that thing off of you and fuck you right here in the ocean. "oh look, i found a starfish," you exclaim, pointing at the sea creature that occupied an underwater rock and making a 'yay' noise.

"good job babe," matt compliments, and you give him a proud grin. you were the sweetest girl in the world, and the fact that you were his made his ego rise.

"how about we swim now, hm?" matt suggests, and you nod eagerly. he grins, picking you up by your hips with ease, and carrying you deeper into the water.

your legs wrap around his waist as the cold water touches your toes. "cold," you squeal, burying your face in his neck. "don't worry baby, you'll get used to it," matt reassures.

matt was right, after a few seconds, the water didn't feel as cold as it first did. you let him carry you behind a few rocks, hiding your two bodies from the eyes of the public. "so pretty angel," he whispers, setting you down, placing his hands on your cheeks as he peppers your lips with kisses.

you let him, giggling softly. your fingers played with the hairs on his neck. "you look so pretty in this," he whispers, kissing down to your neck and biting the spot between your neck and shoulder.

your hand came up to his head, gripping the hair on his head. he sucks a hickey onto your neck before moving down to your collarbones.

"so pretty for me, my pretty baby," he whispers against your skin, one of his hands dropping down to the bottom half of your bathing suit. "gonna make you feel good," matt mumbles, rubbing his middle and ring finger against the crotch of your bathing suit.

"mhm," you squeak, an arm wrapped around his neck for support. "you want that, pretty girl?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against you. "yes, please," you whimper, pushing your hips against his hand.

"my girl is so pretty and polite, such a good girl for me," he praises, slipping his fingers past the hem of your bottoms. he rubs his fingers up and down your folds, his fingers easily collecting the wetness.

"all this just from me?" he teases, and you nod, a small whimper leaving your lips. "so perfect, angel. gonna finger you now, okay?" he tells you, and you nod.

matt was the sweetest boy, always making sure you were comfortable before doing anything.

he slips a finger inside of you, his mouth going to suck marks into your neck that would definitely get questioned later by the boys. "more," you breathe, your nails digging into his shoulders.

his hand goes to cover your mouth and his nose nudges your ear before he's whispering. "quiet baby, can't let anyone know what we're doing," he shushes, adding another finger.

you moan against his hand, and he presses kisses against your jaw. his fingers pump in and out of you slowly, trying not to be rough.

his fingers curl and he presses against a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. your grip on his shoulder tightens and you press your hips down against his fingers, silently asking him to keep touching you there.

"you like that baby? like it when i touch that spot?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against it. you nod quickly, and his thumb circles your clit. your eyes slip closed and your head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder.

your orgasm creeps up on you, and you can't find yourself to warn matt. the pleasure becomes too much and you're letting out a strangled cry against his hand, and your thighs shaking.

he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements and pressing kisses along your neck and jaw. "my good girl, you did so well," he coos, pulling his fingers from your heat and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"thank you," you mumble, your head still buried in the crook of his neck. "i love you," he mutters against your hair, and you can't help but grin. "i love you too, but if we don't leave this place soon, they'll come looking for us," you giggle.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho

[vvampirelust]

just thinking about college!ellie w nip piercings...

warnings: smut, dom!ellie, sub!reader, nipple play/sucking/ect (e!receiving), thigh riding

Maybe she went and got them done on a drunken whim, claiming it was just a bit of fun. 

Or maybe, Ellie's finally come to the realisation that she’s a smokeshow. her “business” offering her more and more opportunities to come out of her shell around the pretty girls at parties. Ellie's naturally ruggish appearance works wonders as it is. a newfound confidence boost and swelling ego sat on her shoulders, she can’t wait to see how her partners react to the shiny bars decorating her perky tits. 

And it was… the best. decision. ever. 

They look good. real good. picture santa barbara!ellie. in that white tank top. having ditched the sports bra because boy oh boy…now we all agree ellie has sensitive tits. The piercings have only spun the dial to 100, anything too tight around her chest is overwhelming and frankly inconvenient throughout the day. 

The thinness of her tank top means her new piercings are poking through at all times, revealing just enough to let the imagination run wild. The small indents of the ball on either side of the bar frames her lusty and rosy nipples, glinting anytime the light hits them just right. 

It’s safe to say, the girls worship them. Tonight, you will worship them. and that's all that matters to ellie rn. 

She has you sitting snug atop her firm thigh, the flat of her foot laid on the bed, waiting patiently for the right moment to apply pressure. Your pupils haven’t been able to leave Ellie's bare chest.  Not since she shamelessly tugged off the tank and tossed it god knows where. 

Smug smirk gracing her chapped lips, Ellie's thumps press into the skin of your hips. Grabbing your attention back. “Wanna touch ‘em, babe? Hm?” Ellie bites her lip in a way that makes you squeeze her thigh between your own. She chuckles, “Yeah…s’okay. Go ahead,” her chin dips, gesturing to her chest. 

But to your surprise. she scoffs and smacks away your tentative, wandering fingers.

 “Use your mouth.” 

Now you’re just testing Ellie's patience. After you bent down to let the tip of your tongue gently graze across her nipple. “You’re cute,” is all she says before giving your hair a quick tug, and you gasp, pained yelp passing your frowned lips. 

Ellie almost whines, “come on, babe. don’t go shy on me now,” her back arches, tits pushing closer to your face, “don’t you wanna suck on them? taste them? baby?” Despite how desperate she sounds, you both know she’s holding all the power. She’s just taunting you. Teasing. 

You nod like the submissive thing she’s turned you into, “Mhm. I want to taste them so bad, baby,” you admit, eyes dropping back to her chest. Ellie drags her thumb all the way to your lips, parting them as she arches further, practically feeding her tit into your mouth. “Show me then.” 

Her groan is downright pornographic when you finally latch onto her, “atta girl.” your tongue laps over her nipple, exploring the smooth metal, cool as it rolls within your mouth. You test out a flick, up and down; then side to side. Trying out slow strokes and quick flicks. Both motions pulling a loud, high-pitched gasp from the confident brunette beneath you. 

Ellie’s slender fingers brush your hair back, allowing her to admire your face through fluttering eyes. She’s hypnotised by how your lips look wrapped around her tit, “so fucking sexy,” she mutters between each scratchy huff of pleasure. “Babe,” she grunts, “babe!” 

You hum around her nipple, slurping off her with a pop. your eyes find hers, wide and waiting. “Other side, now “ she pants, pushing your face against her neglected tit, “keep looking at me too, baby, don’t stop.” 

Her grip tightens on your hips, pulling you down as she rubs her thigh up against your heat. You moan in tandem, teeth sinking into the plush flesh of her breast, eyes straining yet never leaving Ellie's. You give yourself time to mark her pretty, freckled skin, working your way around and around to her nipple. 

“Fuckkk,” Ellie moans when your lips enclose around her piercing clad nipple and suck hard. You never  give her puffy and overly sensitive bud a moment's peace. Your motions are turning fluid yet surprising. 

Ellie whimpers so prettily when your tongue darts over her nipple, pace relentless, knocking her new jewellery with each and every stroke. “Mmph- good girl,” she strains, rocking your hips against her faster. 

Even as you switch back and forth between those little, bouncy boobs of hers. She never breaks eye contact. It's intense. It's driving you halfway towards insanity. Ellie has her bottom lip permanently caught between her teeth. Her drooping eyes, loud noises and furrowing brows are what give away the immense pleasure she’s experiencing. 

She mutters out encouragement and orders as she focuses on your every movement. Not allowing the friction from her thigh to distract you from making her feel good. 

“Ha-harder baby, suck ‘em hard. Yeah, yeah. Just like that…” 

She’s definitely coming in her pants from this. 

[bunnys-kisses]

Hello,

If you're still taking orders, would it be alright if I ordered profiteroles with a side of champagne with max verstappen please.

bakery menu

want to order something? find the menu above to see all of our delicious treats! remember to specify who you want to bring you your order! as for this one, i am biting my first. i am biting my fist a sugar daddy max verstappen who is painfully desperate. big ol' simp.

profiteroles: ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, needy!max, missionary,

the money was nice. you saw how that watch of his gleamed in the sunlight when you two were on his boat. it was nice to see your debt trickle away until it hit zero. it was all nice, the kind of money you'd sell your morals for. you'd even take it out of his hand with your mouth like a dog if it meant keeping every last scent.

the one thing you didn't except, was a needy sugar daddy.

you were in max's penthouse, cooking breakfast while the driver kept around you like a shadow.

"scrambled or fried there, mon ombre." you said as you looked to him. you smiled softly, "i can't guarantee that they'll come out fried."

he pulled away from the wall of the kitchen and settled his hands on your hips. his nose in your hair behind your ear, "i know you can do well. i know you're a good girl."

you chuckled, "right right." you leaned over and cracked two eggs in the pan and had max following you closely as you put the shells in the garbage. then followed you back to the stove, his arms remained a fixture around your waist.

max liked to be around you. he once said it was like flowers in the sun. he curled around you as you cooked. the agreement was that you were his live-in girlfriend while he was in monaco, when he went away for races you could either stay at his penthouse or go back to your apartment (which also paid for).

while he was away, he made sure that you still got your "allowance", it basically was on auto-pay. you thought it was a big of an ego stroke that he paid you right before a race. as he was about to get into that car and drive his heart out.

but when you got the notification, you smiled a little bit. as if you weren't watching the race on a (illegal) live stream.

you didn't think much about competitive driving when you started. you knew of formula one, but nothing of this new generation of drivers and drama. you had seen a few faces plastered on adverts, but couldn't really place a name to them. so when you met max through a "friend", you had a whole world to learn about.

his eggs came out scrambled, but he happily ate them with a slice of toast. it was the only way he'd part from you. he gazed at you from across the table, his foot rubbed against your ankle.

his desire for closeness was sated. he washed the dishes for the both of you, leaving them in the dish rack to dry before he was on you once more.

max paid handsomely for you. you just wanted enough to survive, but he always pushed your pay more. he never told you how much he made in a year, but a quick google search answered your question.

after breakfast, he got you into the bedroom. his hands around your middle once more. his lips on the back of your neck, when you got close enough to the bed, he pulled the bottom of your shirt up your back and over your head.

you turned to him and gazed at him as he pulled you in for a searing kiss. he tasted like ketchup and butter as he got your bra off of you. you felt a thump in your chest when he got his shirt off. his toned body always looked so nice

"you have tanlines." you remarked as you ran a finger down his arm, seeing how it went from darker to lighter, "maybe red bull should put you in a tank tops to even it out." you chuckled.

he raised his eyebrows, "maybe you should wear one, red bull across those pretty tits." he cupped them and rubbed your nipples with his thumbs.

you held onto his biceps and remarked, "maybe your little logo, i think it would nicer." then winked at him. you were moved to the bed and max quickly got the rest of your clothes off and onto the floor.

it was followed by his basketball shorts and briefs. he got into bed with you and pressed you under his body. he kissed at your face with such devotion. he loved the feeling of you under him.

"you're so good for me." he said, "you always listen. so pretty for me. always making sure that i'm taken care of. do i do the same for you?"

you cupped his face and chuckled, "max. of course you do." when got put on your back and your legs around him. you eyed the sight of his erect cock, it made your stomach flip.

"more than just money?" he asked.

you replied, "max, of course." you reached up and touched his face, "i'm surprised that we aren't already dating."

his heart flipped and his cock twitched. he said, "well." then swallowed, "you know how busy i am with racing." his hands trailed down your soft sides, "it wouldn't be fair to you. honestly."

you chuckled, "don't worry, max. i know. don't worry. you're already enough." then leaned up to kiss him before he settled one hand on your hip and the other on his cock.

"too good for me." he said under a low breath before he rubbed his cock up against your sweet pussy. he slowly sank in and then placed both hands on your hips. he grit his teeth as he pushed into you.

you wrapped your legs around him and felt his cock nudge against the deepest parts of you. he curved over you to kiss you on the lips as he thrust further into you. you held onto his shoulders and let him try to get as deep as he could inside of you.

"max."

"yes?"

"why do you spoil me?" you asked as he moved against you. you clung to his shoulders tightly, nails dug into his broad shoulders. you felt the sweat down your neck.

"because when i look at you." he said between heavy breaths, "everything feels alright. even if i lose, to know that i get to come back to you. to be spoiled as i spoil you." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

you clawed down his back as you felt your core throb. you whined between heavy thrusts. you felt so protected by him. he kissed down your neck as he continued to thrust.

"don't make me blush, max." you said softly.

"why? you look so good when you do. especially when you try to hide from me, treasure." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips once more.

he continued to thrust up against you. you held onto him tightly, your nails left angry tracks across his backside. his pace became more brutal the more that he thrusted into you. you could feel him deep inside of you, it felt so good.

it made your gut pool into a heap of warmth as he continued to move against you. you whimpered and whined, you felt your heartbeat deep in your chest.

you kissed his cheek some more and down his jaw, you felt the sweat pin prick your back as you clung to him. you even gave his jaw a small kitten lick which made him groan.

"such a pretty girl. perfect for me." he said, "i can't believe that you let me into your life."

you chuckled, feeling more heat in your cheeks, "what life, i was in university for a dumb degree with no job prospects."

he said, "no, it wasn't stupid."

you chuckled and clung to him, "see, you spoil me." then panted heavily against your sugar daddy.

"come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go." he panted between heavy thrusts. he wanted to be close to you all the time, he wanted to feel you close to him. he wanted to say something else, but didn't want to ruin the moment.

he could only give you a time away, somewhere, anywhere, you'd be with him.

he wanted to bask in your rays for days on end. he wanted some peace with his beautiful girl.

you moaned, "of course. please! ah, i need to cum." you dug your nails further into his shoulders as he thrusted up into you.

"good, good." he panted, "so good for me, letting me have all your attention." he held onto you tighter as he pushed his cock as deep as he could possibly go. he wanted to enjoy every inch of you, inside and out.

you tightened your hold on him and panted heavily. a few more heavy thrusts and he finished inside of you. he grit his teeth and felt the heat down his back. you came soon after as he continued to fuck you, the two of you holding on to one another.

he slowed down and held you for a moment. those strong arms around you, he felt like a sense of safety. you laid there, heavily panting. he pressed kisses to your face.

"i'm a lucky man." hie said, his voice low but gentle. he kissed the top of your head before he got off of you and laid next to you under the thin white sheet.

you felt like home to max. but cat got his tongue whenever he tried to ask you out on a proper date. to be more than just someone to pay to be a pretend girlfriend.

he wanted you in ways that made his heart thump in his chest. you kept him alive, you eternal sun.

-

the next morning you laid next to him in bed. his strong arm over your middle as he kissed at your jaw. in a few days he'd be in some other country, doing some other race.

so he'd have to be clingy from a distance. and that was the hardest part. he shift next to you and sighed contently. he said to you, "my offer still stands. when i come home, let's go away somewhere."

you looked at him, "i'd love to. anywhere with you, max. you take me wherever and i'll go."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good, i'll give you the whole world."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/ a Petite S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Protective Miguel, Flirting, Fluff, FLUFF, Size Difference, Petite Reader, Implied Size Kink, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel LIVES to make you flustered.

He jumps at the opportunity to trap you against a wall or in a corner, using his height and his frame to block you in, his arm leaned above your head, his eyes red, bearing down on you. 

He towers over you, his shadow encompassing your smaller frame as he tells you what he plans on doing to you once you get home.

He used to be really insecure about his body – namely his shoulders – because he thought he looked disproportionate. Wrong.

But, after you showed him love, compassion, and unconditional appreciation for all that he is, he learns to love them. And all because you always tell him how wide and handsome he is, how safe you feel whenever he’s around.

He adores how small you are; he feels like he can keep you safe just by wrapping himself around you.

Yes, he is the big spoon (most of the time). This is non-negotiable.

He just curls around you like a shell and holds your back to his chest, revelling in how small you feel in his arms, how you snuggle into him and make him feel warm. Alive.

Miguel melts whenever you get up onto his shoulders – it makes him feel strong and useful. Especially if it’s to reach something that's just too far away to reach.

Admittedly, he does like to tease you about your height.

He’ll hold whatever coveted item you’re questing for above his head, his chest fluttering at the feeling of you leaning into him, frantic in your reach for your conquest.

“Hmm…I may be able to help you out here,” he says, looking down at you, eyes gleaming with an idea.

“But, it’s gonna cost you.”

You sigh, clamber down from him and cross your arms. You huff. “Fine,” you say. “What?”

Miguel gives you a look – the look – an eyebrow cocked, his lips pouted ever so slightly.

You can’t hide your smile and oblige his silent request.

As you press a soft kiss to his lips, you both know where this is going. Especially when he’s pressing his lips to yours with a feverish fervour, his front to yours, something catching your hip.

And, as your favourite mug lays abandoned on the kitchen counter, you and Miguel continue your little game – your compromise – in the bedroom.

Miguel loves having you up on his shoulders and will look for any given chance to do so.

“Aww, did you miss me, or are you just missing the feeling of my thighs around your face?” you say. Joking, of course. The crinkle around your eyes says it all.

Miguel smiles. Smirks. His hands come to rest on your waist.

“Oh, I don’t need an excuse for that.” He squeezes you, lowering his head until his mouth is to your ear. “Not when you begged me to do it last night. Bet you can still see the marks where I had to hold you down all night long–”

He’s also scared of how fragile you look, though.

If you even seem to be in the slightest danger of being knocked or pushed, he’s around you like a cloak, blocking any and all hazards from coming into contact with you.

One may call Miguel overbearing. But you just call him protective.

Then again, you don’t see the way his eyes gleam over your shoulder at whoever – or whatever – has nearly hurt you. Nor do you see them again, either.

Initially, when you were intimate for the first time, Miguel was terrified of hurting you – that he wouldn’t fit. Though, when he felt how tight you were, he almost lost every sensibility he had and nearly finished right there and then (as ashamed as he is to admit it). Now, he secretly gets off on how you whine when he stretches you out, telling him he’s “Too big – it hurts,” 

It makes his chest swell and his ego bloat.

He also knows you enjoy it, too. You’ve never been very good at hiding your smiles at inopportune moments.

You have names that only you are allowed to call each other.

You call him your “Big Boy” and he calls you his “Little One”.

Anyone who has heard these nicknames – or dares use them – does not retain their hearing ability for much longer.

To Miguel, your petnames are sacred – an insignia of your relationship; of your ownership of each other.

And he exercises this sentiment over you frequently. Literally.

You fit nicely beneath Miguel when he’s working out, so whenever he’s doing press-ups he lays you beneath him and kisses you whenever he descends. And it’s you that has to tell him to keep going with the push-ups when you feel him becoming a little too invested in the kiss.

Whenever you ask him why he does this with you – especially when he can be easily distracted – he gives you a smile.

“Because you’re the only thing that can motivate me to do better. Be stronger.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, his fangs peaking out beneath his drawn lip.

“After all, I am your Big Boy.”

There is nothing in this universe – or any universe – that can hurt you. Not while Miguel is alive, your shadow.

And everyone knows this, too.

Though, you may just think the crowd you’re currently wading through is parting simply out of respect rather than fear.

And it is Miguel who affords you this luxury, this constant protection and adoration for whom it is you he holds. And only you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[cursedcola]

Prompt: How protective are they of their S/O?

Characters: Dorm Leaders (for now).

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland.

A/N: I did one of these for my fire emblem blog…and probably will do for a few other fandoms on this one. I really had to get that Malleus brainrot out of my head omg this was just what i needed.

Riddle Rosehearts

6/10

Very rarely does someone describe Riddle as ‘calm’. The words are not synonymous and do not belong in the same sentence. Then again, not many ever imagined that he would take on a partner either.

More so - that someone would be willing to be his partner. With all the mandatory gatherings, expectations, unprompted lecturing, overbearing perfectionism - yes. Riddle is a ball of anxiety that touches everyone and every thing. Being his s/o is welcoming that for a daily basis (perhaps life)

He is shockingly anything but these things when he is truly in love. Riddle trusts his partner to handle themselves, and believes a hardened shell is good for navigating the world. He will not baby his partner, because he does not want to be smothered in turn.

You will walk along side him. Head held high with the figment of a crown balanced atop it. A Ruler, not a subject - and he will smile on you with pride.

However, this does not make him heartless. He is not protective of you in a physical or social sense…but boy does he get jealous. In the worst ways as well. Riddle is too prideful to get defensive in public so for most acute cases it manifests underneath his skin. He lets the irritation of other students’ flirting fester until he becomes passive aggressive. Heartslabyul students experience war flashbacks to before his ‘change of heart,’ as he goes sour for days, weeks…possibly even a month if his spouse does not reassure him. He cannot handle being ignored or anyone openly making advances on you with him near. It’s disrespectful both towards you and him (do they NOT see him? He is perfectly visible and WILL collar someone).

On one final note. He also has a low tolerance for verbal slander or vulgar talking. Sexual. If you haven’t picked up on it already. If he so much as hears a slither of a suggestive comment…he will kill someone. It’s one thing to hear someone call your partner beautiful. Riddle knows you are. People would be blind not to notice…but that kind of talk? The thought that someone would envision his partner in such a way and dare to speak of it? The disrespect on your name? They’re dead. Expelled. Gone. Kicked out of the dorm if they’re one of his even though no Heartslabyul member would dare speak of you that way.

"Excuse me? Just what is it that you think you are doing? Such lechery is cause for lifetime punishment! Have you no shame?! I would report this to the headmaster but I am often told to be more selfish. Perhaps now is a good time to start. What should be your punishment, hm?"

Leona KingScholar

8/10

Leona is not going to admit it. He really won’t. He’ll push and tell you to leave him be nearly every day…but the moment you start to walk he’s right on your heels.

At some point your bedroom at Ramshackle became his from the frequency of him sleeping over. He took over your dresser, booted Grimm to the armchair, and even brought over his bedsheets/pillows.

Pah. “They’re better quality than these rags,” my ass. He just wants his scent on you and what better way to make it happen then to sleep in his sheets.

Is it alright for the head of another dorm to never be around? Unlikely. However, no one has complained about their bossy senior being missing so all is well.

Like Riddle, Leona recognizes your strength. You handle more stress on the daily than he is willing to put up with. However, no one f*cks with you when he is present. Not unless they want to be pummeled. It takes a mighty ego for someone to think that they can get away with insulting Leona’s s/o right in front of him. Let alone threaten you.

Even jokingly. The only people allowed to do that are those he trusts. He knows that a slap on the wrist from Ruggie or your heartslabyul pups won’t do damage - but someone else? Leona has a newfound hatred for people like Floyd since they drag you into trouble. One misplaced step in your direction and Leona’s snaking his tail around your waist and partially shielding you.

Low-key he has anxiety about you going missing. If you do not show up for lunch in the garden (which is routine) then he gets irritable, and if you are going out late at night then he either tries to convince you to stay home or tags along begrudgingly. Even on your walks with Malleus. No, especially on your walks with Malleus.

Which leads us to the final protective criteria. Jealousy. Have you seen the movie Lilo and Stitch? Do you know the scene where Lilo is showing stitch the drawing of his “good vs.bad” and his badness levels were super high? Leona. Leona with his jealousy.

He will act cocky all he wants with the whole “everyone knows you’re with me shtick,” but he is one possessive mf. If he so much as sees one wandering eye? Doom. Not “i will pummel you,” doom but “i am going to ruin your reputation” doom because Leona calls it out instantly. No perverts on his watch and ESPECIALLY no flirts. The only person who gets to make Leona’s s/o blush is him. No cap.

"Oi! Where do you think you're looking? Yeah, you. The dazer. I'll give you something to gawk at - huh? Fine, but if they so much as step near then I am not backing down,"

Azul Ashengrotto

6/10

Two words. Floyd. Jade. Enough said.

The relationship between Azul and the twins is hella overused, but for good reason. These two are literally his right and left hand.

Azul is a worry wart. This number would break the scale if the tweel brothers did not exist. You can’t blame him for his anxieties either. You are the ONE thing that Azul cannot control. If he could, Azul would draft the perfect contract where you would live in a safe bubble with just him. Except that’s wrong, and you would not be happy.

He doesn’t want to control you. He wants you to be happy but he simply cannot help the anxiety. Out of all the dorm leaders, he has the most enemies. He also has experience with abandonment, bullying, and overall has low self confidence. All this feeds into his protectiveness because you are the one constant in his life that he wants to keep safe.

Introducing the twins. The buffer. His in-between on being an overbearing partner and normalcy. He doesn’t even have to ask them for help, because Jade and Floyd love you too. They keep an eye out when Azul can’t, and it brings comfort. Sadly you’re wrapped up in more scuffles than Azul finds comfortable…and he can’t stop you. He tried. You’re just too nosy…but wherever you go you are supported. He freaks the heck out if you ever come to him bruised, or if the grapevine carries bad news, but he knows that if the twins aren’t spooked then you’re all good.

He worries about you leaving him willingly. Either you wake up and decide that he isn’t your match, that you won’t want to join him after graduation, or you might even decide to leave Twisted Wonderland all together. Azul is happy that Crowley is a lazy liar because it means that you have no way to leave. It’s selfish…but he can’t help it. You have to understand that for Azul? There is no one else. Only you. He is not the type to love twice, this is a one and done deal.

Which is precisely why he is easily jealous as well. Not to the extent of causing an altercation, but he can and will assert dominance. He may feel unworthy but when did that ever stop Azul? ‘Fake it until you make it’ as they say, and Azul will make whatever soul who dared to step in his territory feel like smeared shit underneath his shoe.

"Ah! Angelfish~ I missed you dearly. I hope your wrist is feeling better from that spill in poison making - how do I know about that? Oh the walls have ears, y'know. Can I get you something to drink?"

Kamil Al’ Asim

2/10

Head empty. Brain go brrrrrrrr

Just kidding. Kalim's head is full of thoughts. Some about class, others about his siblings, friends, maybe tomorrow's lunch - and you. He thinks a lot about you. Your smile, your laugh, when he'll see you next and if you'll call him soon. His heart is too full of positive thoughts to worry.

It's really that simple. Kalim is too optimistic to be protective. The idea of you cheating on him hasn't crossed his mind once. If someone flirts with you? Well, so long as your cool with it then heck yeah. He agrees. He supports it because you deserve to be praised.

Which...actually ends up chasing people off anyways. Someone calls you gorgeous? Comments on your clothes or maybe compliments you on your performance during the last exam? You bet Kalim is right there egging them on. He is the poster boy of the golden-retriever supportive boyfriend. Spewing his speech about how you're amazing and that he is so lucky to have you. It gets embarrassing but it does the job. By the time he's done your pursuer either got annoyed and gave up...or recognized that it would be impossible to match Kalim's love. Only an idiot would break up with someone who adores the very ground they walk on, and you are no idiot.

Tell him to stop and he won't because (1) he loves seeing you flustered. It's like a reward and (2) he refuses to let his love go unknown. In other words, everyone knows that you are taken. There is not a single soul at Night Raven College that hasn't heard about Kalim's simpery for the prefect.

Another unconscious checkmark. Money is power, and Kalim's family has a lot of if. They've funded more events at NRC than Crowley has the will to remember. No one. And I mean NO ONE. Would even tinker with hurting you. It's funny how the moment you start to date Kalim, the hole in Ramshackle's living room gets fixed by the next day. Y'know, the one that's been weathered for months and letting all the heat out. The heat from the fireplace because Ramshackle never got proper thermal vents installed. All the broken locks in your dorm were changed, and there was a lovely fruit-basket sitting outside on the porch. Compliments of the NRC staff <3

Let's not forget about the uhh...extra support from Jamil. I know. I know. Jamil caring for Kalim's s/o is a given. He'd do it even if he wasn't asked. The fact is that Kalim requests for Jamil to help you. Kalm has the fortunate luxury of most things being handled on his behalf. He has no reason to worry because there are instilled factors put in place to prevent the emotion from being supported.

Yet, he is of mind to recognize that being with him has costs. He knows that you can handle your own, but what about threats you don't expect? The money grubby kiss-asses and subtle dangers like poison. He's not stupid. You're new to Twisted Wonderland and there is so much about this world that you don't know. He wants to help you personally, but knows that it would do more harm than good. So he confides in Jamil, and then never speaks of it again.

"I'm sure that they will be alright but can you keep an eye just in case? Don't let them know or they might feel scared!...really? Thank goodness! I am meeting them soon so byebye for now. Remember to keep this a secret, Jamil! Hehe~"

Vil Schoenheit

2/10

He's a narcissist

This one is a bit short, and for good reason. Vil's ego.

Vil needs to be perfect. Has to. He truly is the fairest and will be perceived as no less. The voice in his head may occasionally speak otherwise but it never takes hold over his control. You will never see it present itself. He would sooner die.

If there is a soul in Twisted Wonderland who is brave enough to move in on his s/o, then he commends them. It takes courage to willingly offer yourself up as an example to the masses.

He's imagined it. Some pour student attempting to flirt awkwardly and in the most boorish way. Be it a single rose on your desk with a letter of love declaration, or a witty one-liner they pulled out from a book? How dull. The only emotions that the figment evicts are disgust and pity. The former on your behalf for being subjected to such mediocrity, and the latter on behalf of the student. It's bad enough for them to be rejected by you, but now they must be shamed by Vil. He is a merciful man, but allow one to make the mistake of chasing what's his and others will soon follow. As is the way of this competitive world.

He does not scorn any for being attracted to you. How could he? After all, it takes a marvel to woo someone like himself. It's natural for others to notice your sparkle.

They may look, but not touch. A privilege he gives that is not to be betrayed.

Like Kalim, he has no consistent reason to worry. He is so confident in his ability to smite anyone and anything that it is the biggest deterrent to all with ill intent.

On occasion there may be instances of social media backlash, or invasions of privacy. These irk him somewhat, but he knows that they will pass. So long as you are not distressed, then he does not mind them.

"Oh dear, just ignore them. In a week or two you'll be yesterday's news and they will find some other poor soul to torture....hmm. If it bothers you so much, then I will shield you as we walk. Come. The paparazzi loves this face anyways,"

Idia Shroud

8/10

I have said it before and I will say it again. Idia's largest tie to his dorm is his attitude. *cough* His temper. He is highly competitive despite his self-deprecating nature. His ego is unmatched. He is also snarky, and if pushed can talk someone down harsher than Crewel.

He also has too much time on his hands. Schoolwork is a chore that ticks maybe a few hours out of his day. He barely leaves his room, and even more rarely leaves his dorm. For the most part your relationship relies on you coming to him. That's okay. You knew this going in and have accepted it. He is also grateful for how accommodating you've been with his situation and in reassuring him. Yes sometimes he can be an asshole and get greedy. You always put him in his place though, and somehow your relationship dynamic is balanced just right. Not perfect, but not unhealthy.

Comfortable. Secure. Idia is happy. Do you have any idea how hard that is to achieve? He is well aware. He sits around during his free time with it nagging him. Just waiting for the day you grow tired or he lets you down. Some things can't be undone. He's hurt Ortho at times despite loving him more than anything. He'll hurt you and he's scared that when it inevitably happens that you'll leave him.

Idia protects you from himself. From his want to hog your attention and let his greed for your attention take over. When you first started dating, he half-wanted to get you your own tablet to attend school with. Move you into Ignihyde and lock you away with him. Where you would only see him, spend time with him, eat your meals with him, play games with him, save your kindness for only him, and be safe. No more getting into normie messes like magic duels and fighting beasts. No more working towards finding a portal that will take you away...

Almost. He knew that would hurt you. Somehow he matured enough to know that and restrain himself. What the heck did you do to him?

This doesn't mean you're entirely free though. He's still frightened. People scare him and it's bad enough that he has to worry over Ortho. Now you?

He watches you go around campus through the security cameras, and very rarely are you spotted without his tablet floating nearby. His attendance has been better in the classes you're in, and he hates that his teachers have noticed. His reputation has improved, since he's forced to at least say a greeting to the people you hang around once in a while.

Jealousy fuels the flame. He holds back as much as he can, but Idia has never loved like this before. His social awkwardness completely takes the backseat if someone he deems a threat is nearby. If someone flirts with you he has no filter in the moment, and likely beats himself up for it later on. This happens often due to your popularity...ugh. Damn you normies and your small talk.

He's bound to witness one of the many skirmishes you get thrown into. Crowley treats you like a walking campus security...and he is not happy. Not at all. I stated above that he very rarely leaves his room. More so his dorm. Even he has limits and won't sit back just to hear yelling through his earmuffs. The first time it happens? Well, he's bolting. After? Lets just say he had some special security measures installed in his tablet....

"Are you sure you don't want to come over? I got this new game for us to play and I bet I can beat you at it....ugh. Fine. Whatever. Just text me when you're walking home - No! I'm not watching you! Just shut up and do it please!"

Malleus Draconia

10/10

…must I explain?

Do you have any idea what happened when the name 'Tsunotaro,' fell from your lips? Do you?

No. It didn't just make him laugh his little cute fufufufu~ in his head. It flipped a switch.

He fell in love. Right then and there. He might not have known it yet but it's the truth. No one had ever dared to call him something so silly or look at him with pure joy. The smug twinkle in your eye as you declared it proudly.

He was yours, and you were his. You were to the only person in all of Twisted Wonderland that could ask him to jump, and in turn he would ask "how high".

In that moment, Malleus Draconia would kill for you. He would die for you. Loving you would soon become as easy as breathing. In a way, it already was. He simply underestimated at the time how deep his affection for you would root itself in his heart. He mistook it for soft adoration, but it was merely the calm before the storm. That instant was the catalyst to a lifetime of love, and also a lifetime of sorrow.

Being a dragon has nothing to do with it. Bonds with this man run deep. Family is the most important thing, and you are his love. There is no puppy love dating. None of that shit. Only courting because you WILL be his betrothed and you WILL become his spouse. This man is in love and he will accept no other. That is simply his personality. His emotions are pure and heavy. Raw. Fragile. Honest.

He will keep you safe. He has seen you fearful. Seen your strength as you transverse new world. At first it intrigued him as he watched from the sidelines, but now he wishes to travel back and steal you away. Take you to safety and prevent all those horrible events from happening, even though they were necessary for your friends to grow. Nothing is worth you being hurt. He would sooner let the school burn than see another scar on your body or mind.

The day he came to terms with his affections (which did not take long) he swore, never again. Even prior to courting you, never. Your friendship was irreplaceable. The only thing allowed to take you from him would be your own mortality....and even that would soon become a stretch, he's working on it.

View Malleus like a warm blanket. Comforting, not suffocating. A calming presence that wraps around you and fills your body with warmth on the coldest days. You would never dream to leave him. He ensures it. He is not a perfect man, but he is one that will love you like no other on the planet. Many vow that their love is eternal on their wedding day. This is not always upheld.

Malleus is a man of his word. You will see it deep in his emerald eyes the moment he declares his love. Nothing will ever bring you harm. No one will ever offer what he can provide. Not a being in existence will be able to match the affection this man holds. His love truly is eternal.

"You are my deepest treasure. Do you realize what this means?...Haha. No, I will not force you to join me in gargoyle studies. Not unless you wish it...It means that I am yours, and in turn you are now mine. No one will dare harm you unless they wish to become my enemy,"

Bonus: PLATONIC! Bestie Grimm

10x10^10

Little man, big heart.

Heart says to protect the henchman

So protect the henchman he shall do

No googoo eyes are allowed. He will attack ferociously

He will challenge all threats, and then drag you to run away if someone actually tries to fight him

Little man leaves you his spare tuna if you look sad. Be grateful!

He just wants you to like it here, okay? Otherwise you'll drop out and he'll lose his enrollment! Don't think too much on it

Will defend your honor to the very end. Only the great Grimm can make fun of his henchman! All others will feel the power of his flames

....please patch him up if he returns home injured. Deuce tried but the bandages are never tied right

"What happened? Well wouldn't you like to know! Hmph. Nothing more than a few lower lackeys trying to tussle with the Great Grimm...Did I win? Of course I won! What kind of talk is that....sheesh. Last time I defend your name. Hmph. Nothing! I said nothing!"

[chosopie]

y/n will slowly grow to love Conqueror Sukana. Just as long as Yuji keeps his title and is happy and safe

PART 3, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY: It has been weeks since the day of your grand wedding. Sukuna agreed to give your brother Yuji his share of power. Ever since then, you have been spending more time with him, soon growing to enjoy his company.

cw: fluff, you and Sukuna becoming softies

: ̗̀➛ part 2

"You will make sure Yuji gets his title. He's my brother, my blood. I will see to it that he will have access to privileges and resources of this kingdom," You sternly ordered, your eyes intensely staring at your husband Sukuna.

"Damn, do you talk a lot, woman. It's only been a couple weeks and you're starting to nag like an old wife," Sukuna groaned.

"My wishes must be fulfilled," you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And what will you do if they aren't, princess?" He arrogantly smiled at you, amusement glinting from his eyes.

"I’m not a princess. I am the queen and I could send you into exile."

Sukuna laughed at you. "How bold of you. You can't do that."

"You forget that my people are loyal to me, the true blood of this kingdom."

"You forget that I single-handedly killed your pathetic man and his army," He looms over you, his chest right in front of your face.

"Only, because I allowed it. I needed someone more capable like you," You admitted, trying to hold together what remained of your pride while commending your husband. When he smirked in response, you instantly regretted letting those words leave your mouth. To your dismay, that surely fed Sukuna's large ego, keeping it full and satisfied.

"That's all you had to say, brat,” He beamed. “You have my word. The little rascal gets what he needs and I'll protect him." Sukuna reaches over your head, ruffling the hair you had just tidied up.

“Hey!” You groaned, your hands patting and combing your hair in an attempt to return it to its previous state. Sukuna and his ego was a handful, but you knew deep down there had to be a soft spot beneath all that pride and cockiness. You were determined to crack that shell and see what’s really in his heart.

When the sun had set, the dinner table had been set up by your handmaidens. There was a large variety of food all over the table. Yuji sat beside you with a big smile on his face and his eyes lovingly staring at the food.

“Yuji, keep staring like that and you might just marry the food,” you snickered.

Yuji gave you an unamused look, “Come on! I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since we’ve had steak.”

“A while?” You quirked an eyebrow up. “We have steak every week.”

“Just let me be hungry!” He whined. “Where’s your husband? I’m gonna starve to death.”

“Your king is here,” Sukuna loudly said from the other side of the room. He wore a big fur coat over his wide figure.

Hearing his loud and obnoxious voice, you roll your eyes, but you were going to test and prod at him tonight. Beneath all those muscles and ego, there has to be something else in there, right? We can’t pretend forever.

“Pass me the salt, hun,” you point towards the small shaker across the table. Sukuna raised his eyebrow, questioning your behavior; nevertheless, he complied with your request.

Yuji stared at the two of you with confusion. What was with the nicknames all of a sudden? Have you been taking something weird? This was not the big sister he knew. Perhaps you’ve gone soft. “As long as she’s happy,” Yuji thought. After having Sukuna around the house for a couple of week, he didn’t seem so bad after all, just a little obnoxious and boastful. He never raised a hand at you nor did he yell at you just because he wasn’t in a good mood. He seemed to care.

When all of you had finished eating, Yuji returned to his quarters while you and Sukuna headed to yours. Sukuna immediately threw himself onto the bed and made himself comfortable under the thick duvet.

“I’m gonna shower,” you told Sukuna. He simply nodded in response.

You stepped into the shower and twisted the small knob, allowing the warm water to rain on your skin. Closing your eyes, you thought about how Sukuna had been ever since he came around. Most of the time, you two would clash over your different ideologies or even the simplest things like food or how you ate the cake he had been waiting all day to eat. Despite all that, he respected you and treated you well. He would buy you dresses and jewelry, making sure you were clad in the prettiest things out there. You let out a sigh in relief as the warm water began to relax your body. You grabbed your most fragrant soap and made sure to scrub yourself clean. Once you were finished, you wiped yourself dry with a towel, then slipped into a pink nightgown that sort of matched his hair.

You walked into the room, Sukuna’s eyes immediately landing on you. “What’re you doing?” You ask while you made your way to the bed to sit beside him.

“Reading,” he mumbled, his eyes now fixed on the small book in hand.

“Is that a history book?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Aw, do you care about me and my country that much?”

“Fuck off. I’m reading this so I know how to take advantage of the shit you guys have,” Sukuna huffed in annoyance.

“I love you too, Sukuna,” you tested those words. Those three damn words. They felt foreign in your mouth.

Sukuna tensed up, his face looking stiff as ever. He hesitantly turned to look at you and got up. Now, you were scared. He inched closer and closer to you, his body towering over you as usual. You couldn’t read his expression and it made your nerves jitter. He reached his hand out to hold your head, and you thought he was going to ruffle your hair like he always did, but no. It was something different which shocked you. He pulled your head in and gently kissed you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he softly said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your cheeks red from the intimate gesture. Was he serious? Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears. The room suddenly felt hotter than usual. There was a strange warm feeling that swelled in your beating chest. A bold idea crossed your mind, and you let your body move on its own, your arms reaching out to him for an embrace. You slowly snaked your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

This isn’t so bad. You’ve fallen for him.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pecking his cheek.

[bwambiee]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏’ 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃

❤︎ — isagi yoichi x f! reader ꒰ nsfw ﾉ fem! reader ﾉprofanity ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ face-sitting ﾉ fingerin’ ﾉ oral sex (fem received) ﾉ spitting ﾉ mentions of oral sex (male received) ﾉ lots of nicknames <3 (slut is one of em’! lil’ warnin’) ﾉ slight dumbification ﾉ mocking <3 ﾉ wc (2.5k). ꒱

NOTHING GIVES ISAGI MORE DOPAMINE THAN THE HIGH OF SHOOTING A GOAL DURING A GAME.

the only exception would obviously be you, and your pretty eyes and pink lips smiling like a daisy when he wins the match. his face brightens up into a big grin like a kid getting ice cream on a sunny day, growing bashful when he sees you run into his arms and giving him a big hug, ignoring the sweat he’s dripping off and the glances you two get. of course, isagi sneakily hides the coy smile he has on his face by burying it in the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling your sweet scent as he twirls you around and lifts you up effortlessly like a princess while his teammates all look at him with jealous, beady eyes.

his teammates were filled with the evil green-eyed monster of jealousy because isagi was such a lucky bastard for having such a pretty girlfriend. someone who runs up to him with the prettiest smile, small hands pawing at his chest, perfectly manicured nails grazing against the tautness of his bicep as she nuzzles into his neck so that she can whisper praises about how much of a star he is.

but after those sweet little praises that make his heart swell with happiness, you start to whisper challenges, trying to rile him up to prolong the high he’d procured from winning the match. oh sweet girl, you're challenging him? the pride and joy of blue lock, who’s never one to back down from a challenge? he can’t help but let his signature smirk form, canines peeking out when she traces his jawline and mutters about how she’d love to see a supercilious egoist on his knees.

your little tease is fleeting of course, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings as you switch gears and go back to showing off that sweet smile of yours that mirrors the sweetness of the cherry lollipop you were sucking on earlier.

“awh c’mon doll face you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want it don’t you? if you want me on my knees then let’s make it happen. better yet,” his teeth grazes the shell of your ear, trailing down to the pulse of your neck as he whispers, careful to not let his teammates hear his sin-coated words, “i’ll let you ride my tongue so I can see what that pussy looks like from heaven.”

it gives him a big rush of pride when he thinks about what he can do with you behind closed doors, holding onto the underside of your thighs when he twirls you around again and your pretty little mini skirt billows and ripples with every twirl, almost teasingly giving his teammates a tiny little peek of the baby blue panties you’re wearing just for him.

shit sweetheart, don’t you know you’re killin’ him here? it all fed his devilish ego so good especially since he knows he’s the only one who gets to bury himself between your legs, your sweet moans echoing in the air like a hymn as he laps at your pussy like a dog in heat, trying to push you closer to his face, bambi eyes filled with tears of overstimulation and it gives him such a rush because where was that confidence from earlier?

so forgive him for being rough with you, guiding you through his apartment door and hastily locking it, shoving you into his room as you two can barely get a word in, hushed whispers and moans as you two kiss messily, large hands urgently pushing you against the light blue duvet of his mattress and smooths a pathway to the hem of your skirt, calloused fingers leaving featherlight touches against the backs of your thighs so he can grip the plush flesh of your ass.

“sit on my face, c’mon,” he urges, smacking your ass lightly as his hands move to the back of your thighs to gently push you to his awaiting mouth. you feel your breath get caught in your throat when you see how serious he’s being right now. it was simply just a joke! at least… it had started out that way. was her bashful yoichi really demanding her to sit on his face right now?

“you’re a little too eager for this y’know? don’ wanna hurt you,” you whisper shakily, voice soft as silk when you hesitantly sink down onto Isagi’s mouth and his face breaks out into a boyish grin. “ ‘ichi!” you cry out, body jerking in surprise as you hold onto the headboard for support when his tongue darts out to lap up your dripping honey.

“princess sounds so pretty when I eat her pretty pussy.” he spits, spreading his saliva on your swollen pearl, pushing it into your core shamelessly while smacking your hip with a low growl, unsatisfied that all of your weight isn’t on his face yet. he manages to get you to place all of your weight down, smothered under your pussy with his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he eats you out more frantically, practically using the same energy he has on the field but instead of scoring a goal, he was determined to taste your blissful arousal after weeks of endless training.

“wait yoichi… f-fuck,” you whimper out, thighs shaking as you struggle to hold your balance, knees pressed into the mattress while holding onto the headboard for dear life as you desperately try to keep yourself still. but it was so hard. so, so hard to not bounce down onto the tongue that was assaulting your core so relentlessly. “o-oh…nnh—! so good ‘ichi!”

he starts to pant loudly when he hears the oh, so wonderful little whines he adores so much, telling you that you taste like bliss, that soccer hasn’t got shit on this cute little pussy of hers. it was all just too much for you, heart jumping in adoration at the praises, voice drawled out in a sweet, pitchy mewl as you try hard not to grind back against his tongue.

he lets his hands wander up from your thighs so he can cup your tits, soft, perfect globes that fit into his hand like the last piece of a puzzle, working quickly to push up your soft cashmere top, the one that’s baby pink and shows off your dainty shoulders and defined collarbones. fuuck he loves this top, loves the bra you chose to wear today since it’s easy to push up so that he can feel your nipples pebble into his hand. he can’t help but groan into your pussy, briefly pushing you up so that he can talk to you as he feels you, cupping the heavy mounds, thumb rolling over your buds as he worships you.

“fucking perfect,” he whispers into your thigh and you whine slightly when you feel his other hand trailing closer to the comforting warmth of your centre. “you need somethin’ from me baby?”

“fingers—your fingers please ‘ichi!” you whispers tearfully. you want it, you want him.

he chuckles, the deep, rich sound that makes your toes curl so delightfully as you feel the vibrations on his chest. “i’ll give it you… oh ‘m gonna fuckin’ give it to you.”

you’ve never have nodded so fast in your life. yesyesyesyes that’s exactly what you want, to have isagi give you everything he has to offer while you helplessly paw at his headboard.

you honestly don’t know why you’re this desperate. despite initially refusing his offer to sit on his face even though you had teased the idea into his head, you didn’t think he’d actually go through with it! now here you are writhing in ecstasy from his tongue as his nose nudges your clit, hips wiggling slightly as you want your boyfriend to have unrestricted access to your aching cunt, to want him to bring you to absolute completion right on his face.

rough hands pet your pretty pussy, thumb rubbing the sensitive pearl and already the heat of his large palm has you gasping for air from the sheer thought of his fingers and tongue working inside you in tandem. his hands work like he wants to claim ownership, hungry and greedy to already stake some sort of claim on your body and it turns you on even more. to be desired this much, oh it makes your heart weep.

“what a little slut,” he hums the dirty words against your thigh again, “begging for my fingers and actin’ all innocent in front of my teammates earlier.” he knows what she was doing when she teased him, he’s immune to her little innocent act when she shyly tells him she was joking when he knows she wanted it more than him.

you’re, oh so sensitive and he works slow, his hands are careful and precise as he works you up rubbing and tracing your slit softly and he hears the soft sigh parting from your lips when he lets his index finger move to part your delicate petals, just barely slipping inside and it’s just too much.

his finger thrusts slowly and you’re thankful for that, giving you time to adjust to the familiar feeling but it’s been forever since he last fingered you. his finger was much longer and thicker than your own, your warm wet walls sucking him in right up to his knuckle and he grunts.

“y’re so fuckin’ responsive… must’ve wanted me real bad, hm?”

a whine gets caught in your throat as he moves his finger inside of you, curling it at just the right angle and ohh—there’s that spot, the one you always have trouble finding yourself. you moan involuntarily as he massages your velvety walls, fingers fucking you open in the dim light of his bedroom as he whispers sweet praises. he thumbs at your clit once more and his finger starts to pick up the pace, cunt clenching around his digit and you feel like you’re stuck in a euphoric high.

“can you handle one more pretty? hm? can my princess take another one?”

was that even a question? she doesn’t even process his words but she’s nodding as he doesn’t even bother to give her a warning, his middle finger being tucked away into the confines of your wet walls. once there’s two of his digits in you it’s all over, finger fucking you with harsh thrusts as he gives you everything. all of this pleasure was for you, and only you.

“I feel— huuagh! n-no ‘ichi! wanna cum from your tongue! wanna do it on your face!”

you sob helplessly as your senses short circuit, one hand is working your tits while the other finger fucks you into the stars. isagi is quick to oblige though as he pulls his fingers out, quickly grabbing the delicious curve of your ass so he can push you to his mouth again. the orgasm forming up your spine and spilling all the way down to your tummy was about to unravel, and it was coming fast if he continues his sweet bullying of fucking you open with his tongue, messy slurps and moaning coming from below you as he your warm, velvety walls pulse around his tongue, greedily suckling and slurping your pussy like a man starved for your attention and he wasn’t going to stop until you give it to him. do it pretty, cum all over his face.

“h-haah— yoichi ‘m gonna cuum! g-gonna cum ‘ichiii!”

brainless babbles are pulled from your lips as you wail out to him, voice akin to a siren who’s luring him to his sweet demise because that’s what you are to him, captivating his very being. pretty girl can’t you see you’ve ruined him? tore him apart and stole his heart right out of his chest while he digs tiny moons into your thighs, working his tongue in and out of your drooling cunt as your sweet cream trickles down to his face, soaking the ruby red of his jersey when you buck and thrash against his tongue, a white-hot heat spreading throughout your body that leaves you breathless.

“ ‘g-gonna cum ‘ichiii’, fuckin’ do it then angel. look so pretty goin’ dumb from my tongue.”

you can feel his lips form a lazy grin when he mocks your mewls, hearing how much of a wreck you are right now. a writhing, moaning, shaking wreck that you don’t even need to look at his face to see how arrogant he is right now. cockiness oozes from his body as broad shoulders bounce, clearly laughing at the fact that if he wasn’t holding your entire body with his mouth, you’d have toppled over by now.

“see the score baby? it’s 3-1, you helped me score that goal jus’ as much as hiori did. pussy’s the real mvp here—she’s my good luck charm.”

a small shaky huff escapes from your lips from the playfulness he’s exuding to you, little tremors racking your body as your boyfriend finally eases you off of his mouth, a thin string of your slick connecting your sensitive cunt to his tongue like a string of fate. see? even your pussy was missing him.

he can’t help but offer you a lopsided smile, licking off the remnants of your cream from his lips with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen from him, not once breaking eye contact with your glassy ones.

fuuck now it’s his turn now.

“nngh… wan’ it yoichi. wan’ you inside really badly…!”

“yeah? wan’ my cock sweet thing? wan’ me to fuck you dumb ‘n make your pretty little head think of my cock?”

he’s condescending, the way his low, saccharine voice mocks your babyish babbles, hazy doe eyes staring up at him with such want that he can’t help but indulge in your request. but he’s not gonna give it to you so easily. you’ve been spoiled rotten so it’s high time you go and do some work for a change.

that’s what good girls do.

so with a swift tug he frees his cock from the confines of his shorts, holding his heavy cock in his hand as he uses his thumb to spread the pre-cum oozing from the flushed tip and tightens his fist around the base and pumps himself a few times. he looks at you with a narrowed gaze, piercing baby blues look into your teary eyes as his lips curl up into a grin, sitting up on his knees while you obediently position yourself onto all fours, moving your head to his groin and nuzzle his cock, no words or commands needed.

“look at you—so eager for your boyfriend’s dick. you ready to make a mess all over me? bet having my cock in your mouth is gonna taste better than any of those fucking cherry lollipops you always suck on.”

[thesirenisles]

Pluto’s Sirens 🦂

beauty, love astrology observations ✨

scorpio sun, scorpio moon, scorpio mars, scorpio ascendant , Scorpio lilith, Black moon lilith

8th house placements including Lilith

Lilith aspects, Pluto Aspects, Venus Opposing Trine Conjunction Square Pluto, Ruled, Dominant

Pluto in the 1st house, Pluto in the 8th house

“She knew death quite well. She often drowned. But, never in fear. The storm waters of love, pain, and sorrow filled her lungs and from their depths, she rose metamorphosed — a captivating phoenix of the sea.”

do not steal any of my original work. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles | Leave a tip if you enjoy! 🧜🏾‍♀️

🦂Child of Pluto,

The stunning dark beauty that disappears intermittently, only to reemerge a brand new person.. having lived another full life to it’s completion.

You have walked the Valley of Death and your essence was fortified by means of eternal hellfire. There’s really no wonder why you’re so intimidatingly hot. 🔥

As a water sign, this is similar to the siren-like energy of Neptune. However, a Neptunian might unwittingly lure suitors to their death, but you, Plutonian Goddess are the siren who wants the kill.

🥀You are the siren they fear.

You are a mistress of the deep, a beacon of light through the annals of life’s taboo topics like sex, death, occultism, and mystery.

When considering Plutonian energy, I imagine the scorpion deep within a fierce ocean of emotions, burrowing deeper and deeper into the sand… searching and feeling…

Deep within these depths is where you thrive. The drowned woman… I say this because Scorpio is a fixed sign, meaning its energy can be stagnant.

So, it is literally fixed water or stuck water. Being stuck underwater can symbolically connote to drowning.

This is also where the big misunderstanding of Scorpio comes from because… a scorpion does not belong underwater?? Yup, you’re an anomaly.

But, hence this is literally why you cannot stay under water for too long. You’re meant to dive deep beneath the surface, transform yourself, others, and your surroundings BUT only for a little while.

If you try to resist and stay submerged, life literally pushes you to transform and resurface for fresh air. By the end of your journey, you come out reborn anew, carrying nothing but the wisdom you’ve gained.

At your core, you are here to transform yourself and others.

With this energy, you are always digging and craving depth wherever you go, whether you realize it or not just like the scorpion. This could be for emotions, the truth, or other extremes.

Your plutonic vibrations sometimes does this for you and easily charm souls into revealing their darkest and deepest desires to you.

Pluto has gifted you with a gaze that certainly helps to compel information, while also commanding authority and exuding power. (It’s giving Vampire Diariesss)

🥀A fierce siren, you wish to take hold of your romantic partners, friends, and families and lead them to the deepest depths of human existence.

But, this is only an attempt to free them from the confinement of the human ego and mundanity.

🦂The Misunderstood

The Scorpio/ 8th house slander is endless. But, I feel it’s just misunderstood. I love Plutonian energy. I find it refreshing, possibly because I have Scorpio 11th house & Scorpio Mars lol.

But, I get them. My longest friendship is with a beautiful Scorpio Sun and I have never had to second guess her loyalty.

She has been through more than anyone would guess, but maintains a heart of pure gold. Her shell is hard to crack though.

This is because you guys have seen the other side of life… death. You are aware most people aren’t living their truths or even knowledgeable of the truths of this Earthly realm… and it infuriates you at times.

It’s not easy being the one who sees a liar in a fake smile or an enemy within a friend. You see people without their masks and you call them out when needed… including family.

This can ruffle many feathers, of course. We all know how truth tellers are deemed in society.

And to some, your intense need to dive deep can terrify them and trigger them because in some way they are not living their authentic truth.

But, it’s meant to!

Pluto in the 1st house natives know this reaction well, as they wear the hellfire mark wherever they go. This triggers those who are not comfortable with darkness or their own shadow self.

Significant Lilith placements can resonate with this energy. Your presence and rebel energy triggers those whose identity is based upon a facade.

A Plutonian is a friend with their shadow self. They have seen the likes of all darkness.

You are the wounded warrior with these placements, (and honestly deserve so much more and so many hugs for what you’ve survived🥹) But, you seldom allow anyone to see you sweat or any weakness.

This need to conceal weakness hides your incredibly, loving heart and loyal spirit.

You can come off a bit brash at times. (Think, Jade from Victorious… Marlo from The Wire.. Matthew McConaughey’s character in True Detective) But, Its hard to empathize with those who seem ungrateful for their less challenging life paths or who refuse to make simple life changes out of fear.

You are like a butterfly. You have lived several lives, experiencing completely new things at each stage of life, but ultimately improving yourself each time.

While painful at times, that’s your superpower. ✨

The ironic part is that people see you in your Butterfly phase, ornate wings and beautiful colors, and assume you have not had it hard.

Until you sting. 🦂🩸

Absolutely incredible and yet so misunderstood.

Believe me when I say, it is such a GIFT to be able to transform in a world where Saturn’s energy reigns supreme.

🥀A piece of advice I leave to you all is… while understanding death.. DON’T forget to LIVE. Take a page out of the book of your sister sign, Taurus or Planet Venus… pamper your soul. 💅🏾

You are allowed and capable of just as much happiness and soft living as any other soul. Do not be afraid to open up and love or allow yourself to be loved.

You ARE loved over here! ❤️🫶🏾

🦂La Petite Mort “Little Death”.

To possess significant scorpio or 8th house placements is to live through many small deaths to be born anew.

Ironically, while Pluto rules sex, the French saying for an orgasm is Le Petite Mort … or “Little Death”.

Perfectly fitting.

With these placements, you can transform yourself and others through your sexual encounters.

🥀Your sex is transformative!

The sexual energy exudes from your pores, thanks to Papa Pluto and those around you can smell the fragrance.

When a suitor spots you, perched upon a rock amidst the chaos of the ocean… they can’t look away.

They don’t know what it is about you, but they are drawn… hooked and captivated by your watery siren gaze.

You call to them on the shore… and they approach only to be grasped and delivered to the bottom of the ocean for an unforgettable awakening.

This is why Scorpios/ Plutonians/ 8th housers rule the sack. There is less inhibition, less hesitation, and your goal is sink your prey… to the depths… and transform them. (This gives me chills to think about… very powerful stuff!)

Both men and women of Pluto have this quality. Even if they aren’t perfectly symmetrical or dreamy, you have to admit they are HOT AF & their raw sexual energy caught your eye and made you wonder if you even possess the endurance to swim in their waters…

Keep transforming the world Plutonians! We need you!

Thank you for reading! Wishing you blessings💋

Neptune ♓️⬅️✨ MERCURY♍️♊️ Mars ♈️♏️✨ Venus | masterlist

Alton Mason (Scorpio Sun) and Kofi Siriboe (Scorpio Pluto, Moon, Jupiter STELLIUM 😮‍💨)

@thesirenisles | masterlist | Enjoyed? Support!🧜🏾‍♀️

[internetskiff]

Falke is so compelling. Usually when a machine is imbued with a God complex in fiction it immediately decides it's superior to humanity and goes on a rampage - but FKLR units are nothing more than tools, just like the other Replikas. In Replika hierarchy, yes, they're basically deities - hell, their inner circle is literally comprised of units designed to be reliant on her guidance, ADLRs explicitly designed to be dependent on them and KLBRs acting as relays for their bioresonant abilities. They built polyethylene icons of godhood and then they built hopelessly devoted apostles for them. And yet, despite that, even the corrupted Falke unit in charge of Sierpinski never considers herself above humanity - perhaps it's because her ego is satiated by her status as a superweapon of the Nation, or perhaps it's simply a devotion of her own.

And then her godhood is challenged. She passed through the Gate, came back different, split by the flood of memories foreign to her. At first she sees it as an attack, a curse sent down to her from afar, but slowly she grows enamored with it. "These memories are mine now" - as if passed down, inherited, gifted to her. Is losing yourself really a curse when the "self" wasn't yours in the first place? Is this whole ordeal that much different from her creation? In the end, despite her status, her power, her authority, her influence on this dollhouse of manufactured devotees - she's just like any other Replika: a vessel to store memories that don't belong to them. Nothing is truly hers. Her body manufactured, her mind passed down to her from a frozen body, her power bestowed unto her by a module inserted into her shell. This isn't hers either, but it gives her something she'll otherwise never experience - memories of being loved. Not the hard-coded obsession of an ADLR unit, not the pride AEON feels towards her as a technical marvel - memories of someone's actual fondness. These memories don't belong to her, but at this point, the one they truly belonged to is gone. She is not alone anymore. She isn't one. She is split in two. She isn't just Falke anymore. She is also Elster. And perhaps she prefers being Elster to being Falke.

So when she is pierced with her own spears and left to bleed out, she is content. She is Elster. She is one entity in two bodies. And now, with one body left as nothing but a pile of eroded, tumorous, bleeding flesh, only one remains. She was two. And now she is one.

[shadesoflsk]

RETROSPECTION & OUTCOME

pairing: leon kennedy x afab reader.

summary: The journey of healing is not an easy one. Obstacles and doubts filled the path Leon decided to take. However, the agent had planted the seed of self improvement and with your help, a strong and resilent tree will grow.

warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of reader being a nurse, age gap (reader is 25+) angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of gore, blood and violence, no alcohol consumption but Leon attempts to, Leon's inner thoughts, self doubts, lack of self confidence (from Leon's part) mild mentions of religion trauma, smut, handjob, Leon cries during it, kind of switch Leon, needy Leon (give him a hug please) p in v, creampie, fluffy at the end (yipeee)

word count: 14k

author's note: helloooo :] This is my first try at writing a long fic, I had so much fun writing it. It all started as a character study for Leon and then it ended up as... this lmao. For the first chapters, I had vendetta Leon in mind and at the last one we finally have DI Leon! Please... if you see any mistakes no you don't. Anyway love you guys hope you like this as much as I do.

— masterlist

I. ETERNAL DAMNATION.

His cold blue eyes are a pool of misery and misfortune. The dreadful gaze of an individual who once was and continues to be subject to the violent reality of what a government can do.

He remains stoic to whatever adversity he has to face, one look at him and you would believe this man has no feelings whatsoever. He kills, he gets paid, repeat. A never-ending loop in which many would believe Leon finds pleasure. Especially since he carries himself as the Government Golden Boy aka best weapon. To use and to dispose of, Leon S. Kennedy.

Shoulder pats and praise words stir up a pot filled with anger and hatred — emotions that Leon doesn't often feel with others, just with himself.— He tries not to dwell on them, but it gets so difficult and challenging whenever he hears that his own achievements are cause for celebration. Do these assholes know how many people, infected people, he had to kill in order to bring peace? No, they don’t. Unbeknownst to them, those people could have been saved.

At least in Leon’s mind. 

The suited men surround him. Privilege and smugness are qualities that Leon would often use to describe what those who hire his service are. Those congratulations and fake praises ring in Leon’s mind as he keeps thinking about the people he had to betray and kill for the ‘sake’ of his country, for his nation, and for the ego of his president. 

But he takes the compliments, like a good boy. The president believes he hit the jackpot with a rightful agent who is proud of his country. God Bless America and in God we trust, he says as his hand reaches for Leon’s. The blue-eyed agent hesitates each time, out of fear of tainting his oh-so-dear boss’ white shirt. Because nobody cared enough to spare him new clothes and a wet towel to clean himself. A trophy to show the world what a powerful human weapon they had. Rough, tall, and with calloused hands, hands of a killer. 

Leon S. Kennedy is proof of what the cruelty of a government can do. He is no longer a human, but the shell of a man. His name is printed in many documents which shows the gruesome acts he had to endure, in the name of the country. “Agent Leon S. Kennedy had successfully retrieved a sample of the virus.” “Condor One saved Baby Eagle.” He has received a plethora of names yet none of them really encapsulated who he was.

They have shown that they do not care about their citizens, like at all. Raccoon City was a prime example of that. He sounds like a broken record, the memory replaying in his memory every mission he gets assigned. But, for him, it was his first-hand experience with how cruel and gruesome reality could be.

Tough call, they say. We did what we could, they added. Leon knows all of those phrases by heart now. His gentle nature remains in him, even though it was covered by layers of a rough past and self-taught distrust. But even now, at his grown age, he fully believes they could have done so much more.

His mind is all over the place whenever he comes back from a mission. The usual white and never-changing walls surround everyone at the gathering that the president holds each time Leon ‘succeeds’ in a mission. His fingers seek any type of comfort, they twitch, they pinch his own clothes but nothing works. 

People notice, they do. It’s obvious that the spotlight is on him yet he never embraces it. Simple nods and awkward smiles are his way to go and signature gestures. Deep inside, he knows those white-collared dicks spare him weird and pitiful glances every chance they get.

His chest burns with a desire for solidarity and altruism. He feels a lot and feels everything too deep for his own liking. His core dances between his hatred for heroism and the need to be a hero. He doesn’t believe he’s one. Throughout his life he has contemplated who he is and the type of man he has grown to be. His mind is a living hell and he’s the demon incarnated.

He wonders when it all started. Maybe he was doomed for the start, as he stood in front of his parents’ grave asking God why. 

Deuteronomy 31:8; “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” The catholic father who used to hold the mass every Sunday said one morning. Now, did God forget about him? He should have prayed harder, to escape his own damnation.

Strained screams and the reek of rotten flesh fill his dreams. Madness and chaos are the main plots in his nightmares in which he pleads to stop having. His own reality was a mirror of every agony he has to face every day in his line of work. Why is God punishing him even in his dreams?

Those cries of pain and the smell of both burnt flesh and gunpowder are a toxic combination to Leon’s messed up mind. To him, they served as an everlasting proof of his devilish nature. He realizes that the image of innumerable lifeless bodies’ guts all over the floor with his brains smashed over the ground is a common occurrence for him. He becomes desensitized albeit his soul hurting for those who lay at his feet.

Now, he knows that what he's doing is in the name of survival. Millions of people live unaware of the dangerous situations he has to fight on a daily basis, they get to sleep on a warm bed next to their loved ones. If he wants to keep that on, he ought to kill.

But he wouldn’t do it otherwise, he wasn’t built for that life.

But despite that, the usual eerie feeling washes over him whenever he has to pull the trigger. He has grown accustomed to them, on the battlefield he was a fiery pawn, following orders as they told him to.

But as soon as his character ends his performance, his facade and mask falls off his face. He’s no longer a puppet from his higher-ups, he was just him. Leon.

II. RECOGNITION.

He places Matilda — his brush to paint every ground with blood — on his nightstand. To be fair, that’s a habit he can’t just let go. After every mission, his mind is all over the place for the next few days. Every sound activates a fear deep within him that keeps him awake at night and worried during the day.

He washes his hands, a thorough ritual he follows step by step. His hands touch the water, lukewarm to bring him some kind of comfort. He rinses away every blood spot he may have engraved on his bruised skin. The warm and clear liquid reaches his fingernails, which he meticulously scrubs, washing away any leftover of someone’s brain. 

He takes pride in being clean. However, it had developed into an obsession at this point. Being dirty meant killing, and killing meant despair. So, he tries to avoid his gaze on the mirror each time he arrives home. Sadly, he usually doesn’t recognize the man that is staring back at him.

Eventually, he turns off the faucet and walks towards the couch. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He doesn’t get any younger and living as an agent surely doesn’t help his case. But at last, his home. Safe.

He turns on the TV, he’s welcomed by the News Channel which he quickly changes. Nowadays, it appears that nothing good happens in this messed up world, and he doesn’t want to bring sorrow to his home too. He searches through the vast choices of channels until something catches his eye. Casablanca.

A feeble smile forms on his face, a simple thing like that brings Leon a small percentage of happiness, which it’s a lot given his constant state of dullness. 

He sometimes quotes phrases from the movies he watches. He genuinely expects someone to notice, his tired blue eyes would roam over the numerous faces of agents, hoping someone catches the meaning behind his words. He’s tired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to chat with someone.

Nobody seemed to notice, maybe they were busy.

Curiously, he had changed the channel just at the right moment when Rick Blaine said his line. Leon’s favorite.

“I never make plans that far ahead.” Both the character and Leon say simultaneously. It brings Leon a sense of joy. Pathetically enough, his hobbies remind him that he is, in fact, still human. 

He sighs, looking around his apartment. It was dull, it showed his lack of decoration and personal touch. He believes there was no point in placing ornaments or things of that sort since he doesn’t even spend most of his time there. In recollection, he has no home. At least not physically.

He’s a man of the world, people look at him and see someone who is strong and independent rather than a simple man. But his heart’s heavy, with a burden and anguish that no painkiller could ease.

He’s tempted to grab a bottle from his cabinet. Drown in the burning liquid and pass out. He doesn’t like alcohol. But he has always been weak to addictions. So, even when he was a rookie cop and his girlfriend broke up with him, he ran to the nearest bar and took all the booze he could. Maybe he should’ve noticed the red flags, and maybe gone to therapy or something like that. But… oh, right, the next day the world literally ended for him.

But, he refrains from doing so. Deep down, he knew that letting his addiction win would be a deadly solution to his problems. Acknowledging is the first step to recovery, experts say. However, he knew that he couldn’t do it alone.

Before even letting more negative thoughts come into his mind. He gets up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom, again. He stays in front of the door for a few seconds, as if scared of going back there. Eventually, he does enter.

His hand reaches for the switch and the lights are turned on. The luminescent white light revealed his face in front of the mirror. He takes one, two, and three deep breaths before fully opening his eyes. 

He bites his lips, seeking a sort of relief from that action yet he bites too hard that almost draws blood. He’s trying his best, this mundane act is no longer something that he does daily. So, grant him some recognition. 

His eyes travel and land on the mirror and after a while, he fully sees himself. His eyes are wide open, not because he was surprised to discover the man that was in front of him. But to compare him to the one he used to be. 

Just a few years ago, his blond hair was still bright, showing signs of his thorough routine. But now, it has turned into a black mop that could no longer be compared to his past self. His stubble has grown too, he was a late bloomer, he didn’t grow a beard until he reached the age of 27 when he could finally see some signs of pores growing hair. But to see his face so… rugged and rough was definitely a slap back to reality.

He takes two steps back, his hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, he takes it off, revealing his chest and abdomen. He was no stranger to his own physique since he obviously showers. 

However, the sight that the mirror provided was very different from seeing his point of view. His eyes were observing someone else’s perspective, if he ever had the chance to date someone they would see… that.

A chest which was filled with scars and bruises. They were like tattoos, imprinted on his skin. Those will never fade and if he grants someone the misfortune of dating him, will they be repulsed by the idea of witnessing his tainted self?

He wasn’t a hero, he was far away from calling himself that. But he is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, those marks can remind him of his arduous path. Not in a condescending way, but in a fulfilling memory.

III. FURTHERANCE.

He feels… weird. It’s been a while since he last got a haircut, and having someone holding scissors next to his neck wasn’t something he was looking for. But, there he is.

It took everything in him to call the hairdresser. He has long forgotten how to even speak to someone in a normal setting. “Agent Kennedy here, haircut, out.” He couldn’t say that! 

At last, he booked an appointment. It wasn’t the most expensive place, not because Leon didn’t have the money but rather, because he wasn’t looking to be surrounded by luxuries and opulence. A cheap but nice place would do.

Once he arrived, he noticed that he didn’t match well with the place. He knew he carried an aura of mystery and unapproachability but Jesus, it was now obvious with the way some old ladies kept looking at him as if asking: Who the hell is this man?

All of his previous actions led him to where he’s sitting now. 

The granny behind him keeps showering in compliments which he couldn’t quite understand. A few years ago, he may have blushed and waved a hand dismissively, but now? He doesn’t see how he could be called a handsome man.

For him, looking good and taking care of himself had stopped being a requirement a few months ago. But it wasn’t something that happened out of the blue. He gradually started noticing the changes and once he realized, his whole appearance had changed. 

His eyes are piercing and never changing, an unmistakable aura of exhaustion and helpness surrounds him. Yet, once the old lady's eyes land on him, he can’t help but smile back. It was always in his nature — he lives for others.

It’s always been like this. Naturally, his gullibility and his unfounded faith have shaped and molded him differently throughout the course of years. Having to survive an apocalypse, taking care of an infant, and getting betrayed by a certain someone would sequentially take a toll on him. Nonetheless, his primal wish for altruism and hope will always remain in him. They were his roots which led to creating a strong and fortified trunk. 

He’s still hoping this tree will thrive.

The lady asks him how long has it been since he last cut his hair, and he doesn’t know how to respond. Normally, he would cut it himself, since time was priceless and he couldn’t nor wanted to go to a specific place to get his hair trimmed. So he learned by himself, which wasn’t the safest option.

By the way the old woman’s hands brush on his hair, shaking and trembling due to the years, he knows that she knows. It’s obvious by the way some strands are awkwardly cut and overall most of them were misshapen. A poor attempt at maintaining his heartthrob boy hairstyle.

He remains silent — for most of the time. —  He doesn’t answer any questions that were directed at him. Not because he didn’t want to, it’s just that his line of job never prepared him for small talk. In fact, chit-chat just meant that someone was trying to gather information out of him, which prompted him to just refrain from speaking

The government has fucked him up.

He acknowledges it. But it’s not easy to make a change when that something is the only thing he has known for at least 15 years of his life. The curse of despair had so unlucky landed on him and he knew no witchcraft which could prevent him from that.

His mind register most things people would overlook. Given his duty at the job, he ought to be an observer. Yeah, he is also a fighter but he relies heavily on his analyzing skills before attacking. Knowing your enemy before striking is what has saved him every damn time.

His permanently furrowed eyebrows and cold eyes are the first thing he notices in the mirror as the woman keeps cutting some of his hair. A hand unconsciously reaches for the little space between his brows. 

Maybe if he stops frowning.

Maybe if he stops scowling.

Could he give a better impression of himself?

It’s lacking authenticity, he feels like he’s acting rather than being genuine. But for now, he tries forcing a gentle smile which doesn’t meet his eyes yet it’s better than almost pouting every time he breathes. 

All of a sudden, the bell of the door rings announcing that someone else has arrived. Some of the old ladies who are waiting for their turn start getting up from their chairs to greet the person who had just come in.

An everyday customer, that must be. Leon thought.

He was oblivious of how much you are going to change his life.

He can’t see you, not yet. But as the observer he is, he can deduce that this said individual is genuinely loved and appreciated. A drastic contrast between the way he’s received when he returns from a mission. Fake laughs, fake thankful words. 

A complete fraud.

You walk as if you own the place, but your stride doesn’t come off as haughty or arrogant. You exude an aura of familiarity, hospitality, and therefore a gentleness that it’s foreign to Leon. 

You walk towards his seat, where the granny is cutting his hair. As soon as the gray-haired woman sees you, he observes how her eyes light up with delight and joyfulness he hadn’t seen before. 

“Adelaide…” You stop before you even reach Leon. He admires the scene developing through the mirror. He sees you for the first time, you’re definitely a nurse or at least you work in the healthcare area given your uniform. You have your hands on your hips and a playful glare was formed on your face. If he could guess, you just caught this lady doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.

“I think I told you you should be resting.” You squint your eyes as you keep looking at Adelaide, Leon takes note of her name. You are accusing her, yet your friendly demeanor doesn’t falter. 

It’s refreshing to see innocent social interactions. It's a welcome-back reality check. At least, at this moment, he could embrace the tranquility. Although it will end as soon as the hairdresser informs him that his hair is done.

“You know I can’t stand still…” Her voice comes out as a booming melody. Even though the years were obvious by the wrinkles on her face, she sounded so animated and beaming. “This job is everything I have ever known.”

Now he can agree on something. However, he is fully aware the situation is deadly different. Between cutting hair and slitting someone else’s throat, there is a vast difference. But, in his mind, he could already make up a conversation based on that information.

“I know, but…” You take a step further and place a hand on the granny’s shoulder. Leon couldn’t help but feel like an outsider now that the three of them were reflected in the mirror. “You could just take a few days off… Your shoulder will thank you for it.”

As you advise the granny your eyes dart from her eyes in the mirror to Leon’s. 

For the first time.

You acknowledge his presence with a nod and a simple smile. Time seems to stop as he scans your face. You look younger, you are definitely younger than him. Not young enough for him to feel weird about it, but there was a certain glint in your eyes that told him you haven’t experienced misery and desolation in your life. Unlike him who has yet to experience happiness.

He doesn’t want to indulge so much, but his thoughts are having a blast right now. Maybe it was his lack of social interactions and meaningful relationships but he wants to know more about you. 

“It’s quite unusual to see a man here. I would have thought someone like you would go to a barber.” He comes back to reality as he notices you are talking to him. Your eyes remain fixed on his as your smile continues to be displayed on your face. 

Someone like… him? Yeah, that statement isn’t new to him. Especially since his demeanor is still so rugged. But hey! He’s making a change even though you don’t know.

“Barbers don’t know how to cut my hair.” He realizes his voice came out rigid and plain. He didn’t intend to, but he is used to his military speech and tone. “They… just don’t get it right…” His last sentence is definitely more hushed but not any less monotone. 

“Fair enough. At least Adelaide here knows exactly how to keep your hair safe from a buzz cut.” Leon lets out an amused breath as you joke about his hair. It feels like a gentle breeze, indulging in light-hearted teasing with a stranger. And not any stranger, but you.

He has felt attraction, he’s a man after all. His line of job wasn’t the most ideal to find a partner but he can’t deny how some agents were pretty to look at. However, he couldn’t form a romantic relationship there. Between death and violence, the battleground wasn’t the place to have a partner, form a family, and live happily ever after.

“Yeah…” He sheepishly responds, he doesn’t know what else to add. You had taken the reins of the conversation as soon as you teased him. Now, he hopes something comes into his mind to keep the conversation flowing.

“I haven’t seen any other gentleman wearing this hairstyle,” Adelaide says as she resumes her work. She moves the scissors gracefully. She is — with no doubt — an expert in this area. Though the simpleness of her salon tells him otherwise. “If I may say, I think it really suits you.”

“You should have seen me in the 90s.” Those words leave his lips before he even registers them in his mind. It was an innocuous joke, nonetheless, it carried a hint of self-deprecation. He doesn’t look like his old self, he knows that. Especially after seeing himself in the mirror that night. But nobody there has to know, for them, it was a simple light-hearted joke.

The whole salon erupts in laughter, he doesn’t think his words are that funny. But hey, he will take the compliment. 

However, his eyes catch a glimpse of you not laughing. At work, most people wouldn’t laugh at his own words because they weren’t needed. He knew that. But then again, none of you were in a life-or-death situation. Leon doesn’t want to overthink, but… did he come out as a pretentious dude? Or an arrogant dickhead? 

Or maybe you have caught the real meaning behind those words.

You let out a breathy laugh, not too long to be considered a giggle but not short enough to be a chuckle. You don’t add anything else, your eyes just linger on his face for a few more seconds before turning on your heel.

For a moment, he’s taken aback. He feels like he’s going crazy but for a split second, he sees himself in you. Not because you shared the same past or path and there was no way you had the same traumas. But the way you had observed him, made him feel analyzed, as if you were studying the way he talked and expressed himself.

Maybe he’s indeed going crazy.

Leon watches you taking a seat on an empty chair, next to another customer who gives you a polite smile. From there, he hears you telling Adelaide that your shift at the hospital has just ended and you just wanted to check up on her. 

For a while, he relaxes until Adelaide tells him that they are done. She persuades him to bleach his hair after he accidentally told her that he had blond hair in the past. But he escapes her attempts by telling her that he wants to pay.

He walks towards the register and pulls out a 20-dollar bill. It was quite cheap, especially when he had cut so much hair. At least he looks more presentable now.

You appear out of nowhere as he was paying. Your frame leans over the counter and for a second, you let the awkward silence linger in the air. 

Eventually, you speak.

“You don't belong here.” You say without an ounce of malice. You're expressing a fact. Leon has never been around the salon and doesn't look the part.

He frowns slightly, he was keeping up his laid-back appearance just fine until you blurted out your thoughts.

“It's my first time here.” He states before turning around and facing you. 

“That I know.” You nod.

“Then… was your comment really necessary?” Leon's words could come off as rude even though it wasn't his intention. But, it seems they don't even phase you.

“Not really.” You shrugged. Your voice was nonchalant. “But as you could already guess, I'm a nurse. And I have seen people like you come and go out of the hospital.”

He is trying to understand what your point is. Under any other circumstances, he would have told the other person off for even daring to speak about him and his lifestyle. He wasn't violent, not at all. But sometimes his limit was put to the test.

“What I'm trying to say is that…” He sees your attempt at explaining yourself. “I think It's safe to assume you're an agent or something of that sort, right?”

Leon doesn't react nor wants to. People knowing he was an agent wasn't a problem since it wasn't a secret. 

After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and nods. Being honest could be the start of a friendship, at least that's what Leon thinks.

“Was it my frame and physique that gave it away?” If he was an artist he could easily say he was getting better at the art of improving. Just a few weeks ago, he would have never left a comment like that lingering in the air. 

“Nope.” You cross your arms at the level of your chest. 

And there you go breaking his fantasies. He thought his phrase was so flirty.

“There's a scar on your cheek, it looks pretty deep.” You gesture to Leon where the scar is on your own cheek. He instinctively brings his finger to where it is in his. 

That's one of the few scars he remembers exactly how he got it. 2004, Spain. He experienced what betrayal was beforehand. Who he used to hold in high regard was the one who didn't hesitate to hold a knife and leave a nasty reminder of his deception. 

“I got it in a fight.” He sticks with a simple phrase, not diving deeper. Nonetheless, he realized you’re a perspicacious individual, lying won’t get him anywhere.

“Fight… right.” 

Both of you smile knowingly, the smirk giving away a sense of teasing between the two of you, for the first time. Even though you know nothing about how far and wild his job actually was, you had an idea that this said fight wasn’t just a normal and common one.

“So…” Leon sees how you shift your weight from one foot to another. There hasn’t been a shy bone in yourself ever since you entered the salon but now words don’t come out of your mouth as easily as before. “If you ever need a nurse, you can call me.”

As you rummage in your bag, you speak once again. “I may not be the most experienced but believe me when I said I had experience with some military and agents.”

You hand Leon a business card, your full name was there as well as your phone number and the hospital you work in. Your name falls swiftly out of Leon’s lips as he reads the content on the cardstock.

“And senior citizens.” He flashes you a dazzling smile, he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s been a while since he last smiled so freely and so.. natural. It feels like the sun hitting on his skin after a cold day. A warmth he had long forgotten he could feel.

He knew it was soon. Too soon to even imagine being your friend. But as he puts the card in his pocket, he wishes that this could be the beginning of something more.

IV. RELAPSE & RESTART.

He almost falls once he opens up at the door that leads him to his apartment. Another gruesome mission to add to his mental diary and more scars that will adorn his already hurting body. 

The same never-ending story, the same story being told once again. He doesn’t know when it will end. 

If it even ends.

The last months have been all about his ‘recovery’. He was a patient man, he was sure of that. However, he doesn’t understand how doing mundane things would help him. He was taking baby steps and walking on eggshells, trying not to fall back into his old addictions.

Which were slowly creeping into his mind.

A call from Hunnigan was the last thing he expected a few days ago. He was surprised not to get any task earlier but that didn’t mean he wanted to go back to fight off bioweapons and kill walking undead who were once rational people, with dreams and wishes just like him. 

But as much as he wanted to hang up and leave that world behind — knowing that the government wouldn’t give two shits about him and would walk through the same door he previously did and blow his brain — he accepted the mission.

In his own story, he’s a tragic character who can’t break the cursed loop he’s trapped in. The soft sounds of the rain no longer brought comfort to his aching heart, since those constant pitty-patter reminded him of the blood dripping from the people who were killed, by no one else but him.

He often thought he was going crazy, especially now as he walked towards the kitchen and stumbled on his own feet. Seeking something to grab on while he fights off the exhaustion. This last mission had taken a toll on him, both mentally and physically.

His fingers reach for the edge of the counter as he finally stays on his feet without the fear of falling onto the floor. His tired eyes close for a moment as he takes in his surroundings, his lonely apartment and his lonely life and his lonely self and his —.

He shakes his head, he wasn’t exactly in solitude. After that hurried meeting with you, he gained a new friend. He got to know you personally, something that he had missed for the longest time. To actually know someone deeper and not only their last names and occupations.

In exchange, he gave himself the chance to be more vulnerable. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt. But he was too afraid to fuck up the chance to have something meaningful with you. He told you about his years at the police academy, and he briefly shared his experience in Raccoon City, trying to be as vague as possible. In other words, he bared his soul to you.

But that didn’t mean everything was filled with butterflies and rainbows.

One night when you were treating one of his injuries (which he never treated in the past) he accidentally told you about his addictions and dark thoughts. Those which showed a persistent state of numbness and trauma. It was never his intention to worry you about those minor things, which he truly believed were not important.

But, as he recalls that night, he realizes that sadly, he can’t just end it all with a bullet through his brain. He has always thought about it, it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his messed up mind on those lonely nights when he wished someone would grant him a blink of sleep without having to dream about death and despair. 

His eyes open as he once again walks through the kitchen, the moonlight provides a faint source of light that casts on his dark space of living. He remembers that you once told him he should get some lights, and he indeed bought them but he can’t just seem to find enough time to put them on.

His mind wanders through the moments he has spent with you. You always said the most soothing of things, when you wanted to. You advised him, told him how worthy he can be and how special he must be to others even though they don’t know it yet.

Another step.

He didn’t quite catch the meaning of those words. For him, he only brings despair wherever he goes. A demon of destruction and annihilation. If hell had a list of its next guests he believes his name would be on the top of that list. God wouldn’t want him in his paradise.

One more step.

Nonetheless, you weren’t a teddy bear who only chanted words of praise and fairy-tale stories. You called out his bullshit, especially when he dared to joke about going back to his old habits.

Stop.

“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” He would sarcastically ask you whenever you visited him at his apartment, knowing the kind of reaction he would get out of you. You had none of that, though. As soon as he uttered those words, the grip your hand had on his arm would get tighter to the point that Leon would beg you to stop it. 

He knew you genuinely cared for him and he convinces himself that you’re wasting your time with someone like him. Someone already broken from the start. You were younger, with a life ahead of yourself, and a career to follow. And like the devil incarnate that he is, he is stopping you from that.

The story repeats itself, everything he touches turns into dust. He’s no longer a human but the shell of a man who once had dreams of becoming a cop. To become someone who would help innocent people. But instead, he’s killing those same poor souls in the name of the fucking government.

His fingers graze over the cabinet.

He despises his life, he hates everyone who forced him to follow this path. The resentment flows in his system as his hand grips the cabinet door even tighter; if he wasn’t so tired from his mission, he would have broken the tacky wooden furniture.

Why does it have to be this way?

Why does he have to continue witnessing the horrors of his life every day? 

Why do the ghosts of people haunt him every day as he tries to close his eyes and relax? 

Why has he become so desensitized to the bloodshed and yet as soon as he comes back to reality, it knocks the air out of his lungs?

And why is he already unscrewing the lid of his whiskey?

Time slows down for a moment as he gambles his choices. It's been months since he last took a sip from his so beloved whiskey. But at the same time, just one tiny drop would crumble all of his progress.

But why is progress so important if the product is going to be the same? Even if he gets better, his life won't. The only difference is that he may smile more during missions and act like everything is fucking alright even if it isn't.

But he isn't so lucky to fall deeper into his hell that easily. As soon as the cap falls onto the floor, the front door knob twists, announcing that someone is entering.

And who else has a key to his apartment?

The last person he wants to see right now.

The door creaks, antagonizing the imminent moment when you would see him at the scene of the crime with him being the culprit of his own homicide.

“Leon?” He hears you say as you step in, the darkness of the room allowing him a couple of seconds to hide the murder weapon – the bottle – and act clueless. But it seems that not even his nervous system is on his side. He just stands still.

“Sorry for being late. I had one hell of a shift back at–...” He sees your frame as you approach the kitchen. Your face falls momentarily, taking in the sight you were watching. Disheveled hair, bruises all around his face, and dark eyebags that gave the impression he hadn't slept for weeks.

Your eyes fall on the bottle in his hand. There was no cap which leads you to believe that he was drinking. Leon wanted to scream and tell you that you got it all wrong, but no words left his lips.

“Are you drinking?” Anger-filled, you take long strides before reaching for the bottle. Your eyes scan the content, seeing that it is half empty. Your accusatory gaze falls on Leon's.

“It's not what it looks like.” Worst phrase ever. He knows that he's telling you the truth, yet he couldn’t come up with anything worse than that. 

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide open as you keep staring at him with those eyes filled with… disappointment which it's worse than being screamed at. He wasn’t built for that. He was used to resentment looks, to punches and kicks. But disappointment came every time he had to tell families that their father wouldn’t make it that night because he died on a mission. It came each time he had to inform a mother that their beloved son succumbed to a virus. 

The once rookie cop still lives within him. The one who hates disappointing people, the one who wants to save everyone. But especially the one who can’t do it alone.

“Then help me understand.” You place the bottle on the kitchen counter. Your stare doesn’t falter yet a hint of concern washes over your face. “Because all I see is you drinking after literally promising me that you’d never do it again.”

As a matter of fact,  you didn’t actually see him drinking. He wanted to say that, but he knew it would bring even more anger to your already burning expression. However, as soon as that thought left his mind, another one came.

The sole fact that he didn’t drink, doesn’t spare him from any culpability. If it wasn’t for your intrusion, he’d be lying on the couch, wasted and intoxicated waiting to pass out. 

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. Leon isn’t dumb, he’s exhausted but he’s aware of how much you’re holding back. You would never scream at him, that’s obvious. But you didn’t want to bring even more self-hatred to him.

He had his own mental battles, ones you will never understand no matter how much he describes them to you. His anxiety was always bothering him, like an annoying bug buzzing in his ear. You knew how overwhelming everything was.

And you knew how recovery wasn’t an easy step to take, but it definitely takes so much maturity and perseverance, something that Leon surrounds himself in – even though he doesn’t see it. He’s a fighter, he’s a hero, he’s a lover. He keeps fighting and fighting even when he doesn’t see an end. But he mastered the art of moving forward.

So, he’s allowed to fall from time to time.

“Did you drink?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Were you planning on doing it?”

He’s silent for a moment, he’s afraid that his answer will mean more disappointment from you. That you will get to see how pathetic he really was. 

“Yes.” He eventually confesses.

You absentmindedly nod, letting out a long sigh.

“Another mission?”

“...yes.”

You didn’t ask for the details, knowing – to an extent – about Leon’s job, you knew it must have been so impactful in order to almost throw him back to his old friend, alcohol. And you knew Leon was like a sponge, he absorbs everything he experiences and never tells anyone. You thank God that he accidentally told you about his addiction, now you can at least protect him.

“It was…” Leon continues speaking, his fingers scratching a spot on the kitchen counter. His eyes don’t meet yours, as if he’s trying his best to make the words come out of himself. “It was really bad this time.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like an attempt to water down the situation. One thing about him is that he doesn’t cry. He wouldn’t let someone see that side of him. He’s rigid, he’s stoic, he’s unemotional. He’s a DSO agent, born to serve his country and die for it. 

But right now he wants to be a child again. 

He wants to be that same infant who would fall on purpose just to get kisses from his mother. He wants to be that same innocent child who could come back running to his mom’s arms when the world was too scary. 

He wants to stop the world for a second and cry at the top of his lungs, he wants to punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, he wants to be held, he wants to be told everything will be okay even if it will never be okay.

His thoughts drift to when he was younger – to when he could imagine himself being a better person. If he could speak with himself, what would he say? The image of a tiny him crosses his mind, a young Leon playing all by himself with tiny police cars.

Within him, there’s a rookie cop begging for help amidst the gruesome scenario he had to face back in 1998. Beneath all the layers of self-hatred and resentment, hidden in that dead gaze.

He shakes his head, in a poor effort of swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. An imminent sign that his emotions will fall like a waterfall, reminding him of his own weaknesses. His curtain of hair falls onto his eyes, blurring his vision. 

Or was it his tears? He no longer knows.

He deserves an award for how hard he’s trying to stop the inevitable. His fingers shake, his breath gets heavier and his heart aches. But he couldn’t bear it for much longer, especially knowing that at least, he had someone to go to when his mind was too much for him.

So, he allows himself to feel human again.

“It was horrible…” He finally breaks down. He silently lets the tears fall from his eyes as he sobs. The thought of every mission is on his mind as the constant spams of his sobs control his body. 

He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs, the uncontrollable way that he chokes on his sobs makes his throat constricted. 

He lowers his head, he doesn’t want you to see how weak he has become. A tough agent simply doesn’t cry. An agent bites, chews, swallows, and shuts up. 

Silence sets in the kitchen, occasionally broken by Leon’s tears and choked breaths. His fingers itched to grab something, to hold onto something. To feel that he wasn’t alone, that he was indeed not all by himself in this messed up world.

You slowly reach for him. Baby steps, for someone who was touched starved, even if he was unaware of that fact. For someone that’d jump whenever he feels touched, because his mind can’t let go of the fear of being bitten, of being killed. 

You quietly made your way to Leon’s hand, your fingers ever so grazing it. Feather touches brushes against the back of his hand, making sure to notice if he shows any signs of discomfort. There were none.

However, you surely notice that his sobs have stopped for the time being. He’s still sniffing though. As if on cue, his glassy eyes lock on yours, before you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

You didn’t hug him immediately, you didn’t throw your arms around his neck at the very right moment when he started crying, and you especially didn’t give him a shoulder pat as if saying “Don’t cry.” He appreciates the fact that you took it slow, you gave him a warning and proceeded further when he allowed you to.

Loving takes time, and loving Leon would surely take longer than anything you have experienced.  You have treated many patients, you know that the injuries in a body heal fairly quickly. Now, the wounds in a soul that was doomed from the start are not something that easy to mend. 

After a while of your fingers being intertwined and sweat covering the palm of your hands, you feel the faintest squeeze, coming from Leon’s side. You look at him and see a tiny smile formed on his lips with some dry tears adorning his face.

You say nothing, scared to break the atmosphere of tranquility that had formed after Leon stopped crying. It took some seconds for Leon to muster up the courage to go further, intimacy and platonic touches were already something he was unfamiliar with. Now, he had to add romantic feelings to that list.

If he had met you when he was younger, he’d have surely asked you out. Take you on a nice little date and steal a kiss or two. But now, he was trapped in the course of the years, older and supposedly wiser. However, you were the one who was being strong – for him. Not the other way around.

But, as much as he wants to pity himself and wonder about those what-ifs, he has a friend now. He would take care of that heart of his in the future. For now, he wants to embrace the one friendship he hasn’t tainted yet.

The one person who still hasn’t seen the horrors that this world has to offer.

He untangles his fingers from yours and looking at your eyes one last time, he brings your hand to his cheek. The palm of your hand bringing some warmth to his skin.

With his eyes closed now, you see an expression you haven’t seen before. A peaceful one, as if he was sleeping without his usual nightmares. It was comforting, in a sense, knowing that you have brought a moment of serenity to his tumultuous life.

You were surprised at first, not expecting Leon to show that display of affection. However, part of you understands that he was seeking comfort. It’s been a while since he last felt safe with someone, someone who he could cry with, someone who wouldn’t judge him.

Your thumb grazes over his stubbled cheek, wiping away any proof that he has been crying. 

“Thank you…” His voice is barely a whisper, you almost didn’t hear him singing his gratitude.

You want to say “You’re welcome” or “It’s okay” but none of those phrases convey what you really wish to show. Saying the first one would dismiss all of your previous actions as a simple attempt to comfort him. And the latter was a lie, it’s not okay, even if you wanted to believe it yourself.

“I got you.” You stick with that one. It wasn’t a lie but a promise you plan on fulfilling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” He asks, opening his eyes. His tone is a hopeful one.

“I do.” You reassure him.

With your free hand – the one that wasn’t on Leon’s cheek –  you reach for the bottle of whiskey that was long forgotten after their little situation.

“But before that, we need to get rid of this.” You show it to Leon before he chuckles. “We’re now only drinking apple juice.”

He didn’t miss the use of we instead of you. Maybe he’s reading between the lines, but he hopes that you’re by his side now that he wants to leave his addiction for sure. He wants you to see how much he can achieve if he sets his mind on it.

“Apple juice it is.”

V. ABSOLUTION.

The nakedness of his body didn't override the vulnerability he showed once he let you in his life, mind, and soul. But as you help him wash his back, he can’t help but reminisce about that first night when he first saw himself in the mirror.

He remembers being insecure about showing his scars to someone, scared that the other person would be disgusted by the sight of it. 

However, you weren’t repulsed, far from that. In your mind, Leon’s skin served as a canvas and each bruise and scar were strokes of a paintbrush. In this case, they showed Leon’s hard life and non-achievable freedom. They showed how much Leon had endured and how many fights he had won.

Therefore, they were proof that Leon was a lover of life. He loved everyone else’s lives that he would sacrifice his in order to protect the world.

Leon sometimes drops hints about his job. He didn’t directly tell you about the government and its fucked up methods, but you collected the clues and formed your own puzzle.

He was forced to join.

It was strange, in a way. To know that a gentle soul like him had to face the hostility of a country, of a government that could easily threaten someone into joining the force. However, you weren’t clueless about its power.

Eventually, after those hints, other hints came along the way. 

Leon was sweet, funny, and a gentleman. Your dynamic as a nurse and patient was long forgotten even though you still tend to some of his wounds. And your friendship shifted into something more, especially after the whiskey situation months ago. 

However, even though his qualities overshadow his flaws, there’s something he can’t hide.

He’s too awkward for his own good.

Ever since the alcohol incident, Leon would always try to be smooth and compliment you over the simplest things. “Have you done something different to your hair? No, you didn’t? Oh… Well, it looks good” He would often facepalm himself because he couldn’t flirt even if his life depended on it.

Eventually, after those not-so-discrete hints, he took matters into his own hands. He often faked minor injuries. “You don’t understand, my eye literally hurts” and he would have access to admire every tiny detail your face had to offer. From your moles to the way your eyebrows furrowed trying to concentrate.

And that led to feathery touches. In the name of friendship, of course.

After one dinner – that Leon so gratefully prepared – you would often find yourself sitting on the couch, shoulders pressed to one another as you played with his rough hands. You would ask him where he got that scar, how he got this one right here, wow it looks really deep. 

And he let you because he did the same. Because those angel-like touches soon turned into endlessly staring sessions where silence was more inviting than any word could be. You gazed into each other’s eyes for only God knows how long. Expecting that the other one would break the intimate moment but none of them had the heart to do so.

It would be an understatement to say that Leon felt so safe with you. Over the months, Leon had gotten to know what a home felt like. His apartment remained the same, physically and aesthetically speaking. But the way it immediately lightens up when you arrive – yeah, Leon could finally call it home.

That’s why, it was so easy for Leon to let those words slip out of his mouth one night when you were leaving.

“You feel like home.” 

And for a moment, you let those words sink into you. You thought you were merely an acquaintance, a simple friend at most. But no – there he was, Leon Kennedy, US government agent, telling you that you’re his home.

Meanwhile, the silence at that moment made Leon go insane. He thought he fucked it up, you would surely run away now. Who the fuck says that someone is their home? Shit shit shit—

“You’re my home too.” 

And that was everything he needed to hear to stop all of his dark thoughts from appearing once again. The darkness that embraced both of them set the perfect scenario to indulge in this crucial moment. A late confession, but a real one.  

As he gazes into your eyes, he can’t help but wonder if this tiny fragment of happiness would go away like everything else had in his life. You’re too precious, too important to die, to vanish from his life and never come back.

And your hand reached for his cheek, your thumb caressing the same scar you noticed when you first met him, he couldn’t help but ask God to grant him one more chance in life. He promises — in a fragment of seconds — to be a better human, to be a better citizen but please, don’t take away this last string of hope he’s holding to.

And he felt that God had finally responded to his prayers when he saw how you leaned closer, letting your lips find his in a gentle but so meaningful and awaited kiss. He hesitantly parted his lips, scared that this may be a dream. But of course, he doesn’t dream so that had to be the reality. The sorrow, the anxiety, the longing, and the expectations — all of those were long forgotten as he mentally thanked destiny for this.

“Earth to Leon” You giggle behind him as you rub a sponge all over his back. You were careful not to be so rough on his already aching back. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Of course, he found himself daydreaming. 

From that night, his relationship with you skyrocketed. And his home became your home too.

He doesn’t know when it happened, but he found himself getting even more comfortable with you. He didn’t even need to ask himself — letting you see him naked as both of you wash each other’s bodies? Yeah, it was definitely love. 

And he loves being in love.

“I just spaced out for a bit.” He responds with a yawn, the silence that surrounded both of you was inviting to just sleep throughout the night. Funnily enough, you only just sleep. Leon was grateful the first nights since he was getting used to the fact that someone else was sleeping on his bed.

But now he was growing a bit impatient.

Especially with your lingering touches.

As you let the water wash away all the soap, your lips soon find his back, pressing soft kisses on each scar that adorned his skin. “It’s okay…” a kiss on a tiny scar. “Are you going to take your sleeping pills tonight?” Another kiss on a scar that was near his shoulder.

Right… he was put on medication. He often takes sleeping pills when his eyes won’t shut down even if drowsiness is engulfing him. But lately, sleep has become easier, and his nightmares have decreased.

He’d like to think that after you started sleeping next to him, his mind started to feel at peace. But that was something unreal, nobody could fix someone. 

But he had to be honest, you surely helped him a lot.

“Not tonight.”

He feels you nodding as your chin lays on his shoulder blade. It’s in moments like these where he thinks that life doesn’t sound so bad. As he zones out and lets you do all the job, he realizes that maybe it’s okay to keep on living.

He’s a big teddy bear, to say the least. The DSO agent who once swore duty to his country was pushed aside when he was with you. Why would he need to keep up his facade when home meant security, therefore you are what makes him safe. So, as you help him out of the shower, drying him off with a towel he lets you take the reins, his body on autopilot mode.

His strong arms wrap around your frame, perfectly molding and fitting like puzzle pieces. It feels like the flow of water, gently swaying your bodies until they reach their destination, their little nest away from everything outside. 

He takes pride in serving, providing, and protecting. It was deeply imprinted in him, right in his bone marrow. The blood that runs through his veins pushes him to never stop, to continue working for others. 

However, as you help him sit down on the bed his mind shuts down for a moment. He allows himself to take this moment of peace and drown himself in it. Be a little selfish, if he can. The tranquility of a domestic setting was still so foreign to him yet he doesn’t understand how he could’ve lived without feeling this for so long.

The towel around his midsection hugs him just right to prevent the material from falling. His hair is still a little wet, and so is yours. You use the extra towel to help him dry off. 

He very much enjoys the lazy touches you share at nights like these. It was a nice reminder that the darkness of the imminent dusk will not bring more nightmares, but peaceful dreams. The ghost of his past was getting tired of haunting him, it seems.

You’re still pretty careful with him, as if you were handling fine ceramic which in a sense, he was. He was shattered porcelain, glued back together with utter care. You both were artists, who completed with great skill this piece of art called life.

And now, your lips are acting like a brush, as they touch Leon’s skin. Kisses are planted along his jaw and he lets out a sigh from the feeling of being treated with so much devotion. If he could serve as a blank canvas, he was ready to rewrite his story with you.

Or maybe not rewrite, his past made him a person as much as it hurts. His grief, his pain, and his previous solitude built up the man that he is now. So, he will add another page to his life story. He will paint another landscape where the sun rises and casts its lights on the world. 

He looks at you and sees nothing but raw love and a hint of desire hidden behind those orbs. He notices, then, that just like him you are indeed eager to please him in the other sense of the word. It was embarrassing to realize that he shouldn’t have kept quiet about his needs when you had already proved to him that it was okay to speak, to think, to feel.

It’s been a while since he last let himself be this physically vulnerable. Sure he wasn’t an inexpert in the area but it has never been this intimate. Hearts never bonded and names weren’t remembered. Never has someone truly cared about his welfare before. To put it a name, he’d have called it a trade. He let off some steam and the other part got what they wanted. No strings attached and surely no feelings hurt.

However, it would be a lie if he told himself he didn’t crave to actually make love to someone. To feel someone’s body brushed against his in a sweet and gentle motion. To let himself and his soul be kissed with so much love that it would make him cringe. 

You stop your waterfall of kisses for a while, letting the silence linger for a few seconds as you grab his hand. Slowly, you interlace your fingers with him, a well-known display of affection from you. Your signature, you may even say.

“Hey…” His eyes search yours, and he sees how you’re looking for approval, for his consent. He once heard eyes are the mirror of someone’s soul and the world suddenly feels so small as he remembers that he met those same eyes months ago, unaware of the effect you’d have on him.

“Hey.” You repeated, for the second time this night, his mind decided to wander again. “Is it okay if…” you trail off, not because of embarrassment or sudden shyness, not at all. But he can deduce that you wanted him to finish your sentence. 

I’ve been dying to touch you. I’ve been craving you touching me, he wanted to say. However, his sense of decency stops him from uttering that rather needy phrase. In a way, he can infer that you already know about his lustful desires. It was a matter of time before both of you indulged in those carnally and normal needs. 

Nonetheless, he is oblivious that you won’t let this night be like any other. No, you wouldn’t try anything too crazy — not yet — But after months of knowing him deeper and rawer, you know he’s tired. Exhausted from his life, exhausted from his job, and overall drained. He deserves to be treated right and you’ve been excelling in that task. 

But, you’ll show him that he can be as greedy as he wants to be.

“You can trust me.” You say in a hushed tone as if you were whispering a secret to him. Your hand slowly descends until it reaches where the towel meets his waist. 

“I do trust you.” He responds with a determined tone amidst the suggestive move of your hand. “I feel like I won the lottery with you.”

“Is that so?” You laugh, resuming your kisses around his stubbled cheek. Although this time, they carry some neediness in them.

“Positive.” He lets out a shaky breath as your finger ever so grazes over where the towel is tucked in. “Because you saw good in me when I had nothing to offer, you—”

“Stop.” Your voice remains soft even though your command doesn’t falter. ”None of those self-loathing words right now.”

He’s speechless for a moment before he slowly nods and lets your hand go lower. Leon feels his blood going south just from a few words.

But then again, loving you was really easy. So it was no surprise that he found himself already leaking at the anticipation of your imminent touch. 

“Let me make you feel better.” You whisper, allowing your hand to undo the towel that was previously wrapped around him. In a swift movement, it falls on the floor exposing his already hard length. 

You glance at Leon one last time and observe his reaction. There was no sight of changes of mind or hesitation, so you free his and your desire.

You connect your lips against his neck, and with gentle sucks, you prepare him for what’s about to come. Your wish —besides touching him— is bringing comfort in such an intimate act like this. He has trusted you with his soul and body before, that’s correct. But right now, you can feel the level of loyalty and therefore love he’s showing you. 

Your hand reaches for his dick, you thumb the slit of his tip collecting the precum that has already formed there, using it as a lubricant. 

Your fingers circle around his cock and, slowly, you start stroking him. You don’t want him to cum just yet, the feeling of being treated like this was something you want him to drown in. So, you keep up the steady pace. 

You disconnect your lips from his neck and focus your eyes on your ministration on his cock. The lewd sounds combined with the faint whimpers coming out from his lips were almost like background music that you are starting to love. 

He takes the opportunity of you pulling away from his neck to hide his face in the crook of yours. His breath tickles your skin as he continues letting out the most pretty sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck…” He hisses as his word gets lost between the shlick sounds of your hand jerking him off. His nose brushes against the side of your neck as his cries fill your ears. You can hear him whispering your name from time to time, as well as some other curses of his own.

However, his tiny cries of pleasure soon turned into real sobs. 

No, he wasn’t sad but Christ, it was the first time actually took their time to focus on his pleasure and his well being. He always thought that love was never meant for him, that the simple act of falling in love would be impossible and unachievable. The thought of having his life attached to someone else used to send shivers down his spine.

Now, his world is no longer black and white, your mere existence brought color to his life.

Your hand stops for a minute, worried that you may have done something wrong. That leads Leon to pull away from your neck as some tears roll down his face. 

“Sorry… I — just continue please…” The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he went back to nuzzle against your neck. And even if he was dazed out at this very moment, you will remember to talk about this again at another time.

“It’s okay, let it all go.” You reassure him as you resume your previous motions. It doesn’t take long before your hand sends him over the edge and close to his own climax. 

You pump him, your thumb grazing over the head of his dick from time to time. He absentmindedly thrust his hips up into your hand, seeking his near release. For him, you were granting him a visit to Heaven itself. Just the mere touch of your hand had him seeing angels and cherubims. How would it feel to be deep inside of you?

His lips are red from biting them, attempting to muffle his moans. His brain is a mess, with thoughts of you and only in there and his cock is throbbing as it chases his own high. Overall, Leon was putty in your hands. 

And by the way, his hips are starting to miss their rhythm, you know that it was a matter of seconds before Leon came undone in your hand.

“You’ve been so good for me…” You coo, still jerking him off with a slightly faster pace now. “You deserve to cum, don’t you?” You were always good with words but Jesus, he didn’t expect you would literally talk him through it.

As you whisper those praise words, he can’t stop his hips from rutting and bucking into your hand. “Yeah…— fuck — I’ve been so good. Please, let me cum.”

The image of a tough agent begging for release will surely imprint in your mind for a while. 

“Of course.” Your lips tug into a smile as you pick up the pace. It was a sight to behold, seeing Leon coming undone in your hands with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a dazed out expression that brought butterflies to your tummy.

Eventually, your hands slow down as Leon writhes under your touch. He lets out a loud muffled whimper as white thick ropes of cum spill onto his stomach and of course, your hand. 

He stays still for a while, letting his body rest for a second. He plants lazy kisses on your neck as a way of saying “Thank you” since words couldn’t really translate what he was feeling right.

“Shit—” After a while, Leon curses as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. His expression is one of exhaustion but his lazy smile tells you he was brimming with happiness. He reaches for his towel that was previously thrown off and cleans your hand.

“Are you ok?” You ask as Leon wipes your hand, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the considerate action.

“Yeah but…” He trails off as he cleans his abdomen too. You can already predict what was going on in that head of his. “What about you?”

“I’m okay Leon.” You sigh as you bring your now clean hand to his cheek. “Your pleasure is mine. Besides, you’re exhausted.”

But as much as your statement was true, you can’t deny the desire that was dripping between your thighs. Between the intimacy of your act and having Leon so vulnerable in your hands, your system knows what it wants.

“I am.” He doesn’t deny the fact that your ministrations sucked the life out of him. But he can keep going. For the first time in his life, he is grateful for his stamina as an agent. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Before you could even protest, Leon was already kissing your neck. The scent of your body wash filling his nostrils as his lips get hungrier and needier for the taste of your skin. And as you attempt to once again speak, he muffles your words with his mouth on yours.

You feel your reasoning go weak as well as your limbs. It took a few kisses for you to comply and let yourself be laid on the bed, strong but gentle hands holding you close even when you fell on the soft mattress.

He’s above you for a second as he admires the view. Your towel, unlike his, was still wrapped around your body. You wriggle your way to where the pillows of the bed are and you wait for him there.

He wastes no time to join you, carefully lying next to you rather than above you. You catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to do. One of his calloused hands reaches your waist and softly motions you to roll over your side. 

You roll over and you’re met with your reflection on the mirror that was next to your bed. Funnily enough, it was perfectly placed so it showed both of your bodies. Somewhere deep in your mind, you wonder if Leon set up the mirror there for this right purpose. 

But then again, Leon was spontaneous, behind all of his layers of grumpiness and sadness that once used to surround him, you knew his sappy, corny, and cheesy side that was hidden. And now, you get to notice his quirks every single day.

He grips your hips as he lays sideways too, slightly spooning you. “You no longer need this…” He murmurs as he takes off your towel, the sight of your bare body in the mirror has his mouth watering. Acting like a damn dog wasn’t on the list of things he’s proud of.

As he discards the fabric that covered your body, you feel his once again hard cock. But this time, it was painfully close to your core that you could already feel every vein brushing against your walls.

“May I?” He knows your answer, he’s just asking for the sake of it. To hear your voice dripping with lust and neediness. To hear you hum that yes in your sweet tone as always.

“Please…” Your whisper was enough to make his cock twitch. What is with you and your voice that melts Leon whenever he hears you? You’re both his salvation and weakness. He can’t function without you.

He has always wanted to leave a mark in this world. That he had indeed existed for something else than death and destruction. That he was more than Leon Kennedy, the US’ best weapon. He wanted to show the world that he, Leon — just Leon — was more than his messed-up destiny. 

He loves, he desires, he laughs and he yearns for connection. And right now, his body’s aching to feel you around him.

He snuggles closer and wraps a tight arm around your waist, hugging your abdomen just right. Instinctively, you arch your back, letting your rear brush against Leon’s dick making hiss from the friction.

For a moment, he stops hugging you. You almost whined for the loss of closeness when you feel Leon guiding his dick which easily slides through your wet folds. The tip of it bumps against your clit sending electricity all over your body.

He’s savoring this moment. Sadly, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer once he starts. But, at least, he knows that this won’t be the last time since he finally allowed himself to be selfish, to wish happiness for himself.

Happiness has a name and is both yours and Leon’s.

At last, he pushed into you, just the tip for now. Admiring your face in the mirror, he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. Rambles about how perfect you look and feel right, how lucky he is, and so on.

“Look at you…” Leon points at the mirror and you open your eyes which are glassy from all the pent-up desire you’ve been holding back. At any other moment given, you’d have been quite self-conscious about the exposure of your naked body. But Leon — as you once did with him — is eager to show you that you’re indeed a sight for sore eyes.

“Look how perfect you look being mine.” Even though his words could sound possessive to anyone else, you know his voice brings out affection and tenderness. There are a few things Leon could call them his. And most of them are mundane items that don’t exactly bring comfort to him. 

But to call you his was something that he has always looked for. To show you off, buy you everything you’ve always desired, and tell the world that he had finally found his home. His one and only.

As he finishes his statement with a kiss on your cheek, he eases himself into you. He pushes all of his length as he hushes you once you hiss from the stretch.

“Shhh there you go…” He once again wraps his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales the scent he has grown to love. The same that has been lulling him to sleep ever since you decided to move in with him. 

He stays still for a few seconds, the feeling of filling you up could make him cum right on the spot but he stops himself. He distracts from your pulsating walls by kissing your neck and sucking on the skin which will clearly turn a soft purple color the next morning.

The pain soon turned into comfort and therefore it resulted in pleasure. As he hears you saying a soft “You can move” he slowly pulls out before thrusting into you with the same pace and force. He feels your walls clamping down his cock as he continues his motions. 

He slides in and out with lazy thrusts, his and your eyes are closed as heavy breaths and drowsy moans leave your lips. You were correct, he was exhausted from his previous high. But the way you drowsily made love was making this whole thing even more perfect.

“Taking me so well.” He murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling your neck as he grips your waist even tighter than before, as if he is scared that once he opens his eyes you won’t be there. “Sucking me in, like you know I belong here.”

His hand goes to your chest, where he plays with one of your nipples. His fingers pinching the sensitive spot as his hips continue lazily bucking into yours already feeling like his mind was all over the place.

You feel a heat forming on your belly as Leon continues whispering words you can’t quite register now. Too drunk in desire and too cock drunk to even care. “Fuck I love you so much…”

“I love you too.” You can’t really say anything else, everything would be sentences with no coherent meaning or sense. So you stick with your favorite phrase, you could sing every day that you love Leon, and he would do the same. Because the word love was once so far away from him.

It was poetic to see that Leon could feel his second climax of the night near as he heard you say that you love him. The back and forth of his hips slightly increase their speed but it remains true to the lazy nature of the act right now, though.

“I’m close.” Leon stutters as he says those words. “Can I come inside you? Please tell me I can.” There is some desperation in his voice, an aching and burning desire to paint your insides. 

“Fuck, yes. Yes, you can.” You manage to say before Leon lets out countless thanks you. Your body starts writhing under his grasp as your fingers start digging into Leon’s arms, leaving an imprint of your nails on his skin.

“Cum on me. Go ahead, do it for me.” He coos, coaxing more sweet whimpers out of you. “Let me fill you up.” 

You let out a muffled whimper as you came undone. He could feel your cunt gripping him as you reach your desired orgasm. Eventually, Leon’s hips which were previously rocking into your and slapping against his skin are now slowing down.

The wet noises sound so filthy yet Leon is having a blast right now. He could imagine himself getting to experience this every night with you by his side. Who could have thought that selfishness could be so rewarding?

With a low grunt, he cums inside of you as he promised. Letting his load fill your insides. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that formed on his lips. What a view.

He remains inside of you for a bit longer than needed. You can’t judge him, especially with the way he nuzzles into your neck letting out a yawn. Poor him was worn out. After his first climax, he had already felt that he touched the sky, and now he was in heaven.

After pulling out, he rested his cheek on your shoulder. Part of him wanted to feel you again yet he couldn’t even move an inch. However, it fulfilled him to know that you were going to be right next to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and for as long as you allow it.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“We have to change those thank you into I love you.”

Leon was the sweetest guy. However, those thanks still came from a place of skepticism. 

“Sorry…”

He sheepishly said before drifting off to sleep. And, as usual, no nightmare is waiting for him to haunt his dreams.

VI. SERENITY

Attempting to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning should be a crime. However, your drowsy state didn’t stop you from reaching the now empty space next to you. The bed still provided you with the scent of the person you loved the most yet he wasn’t there. 

With a groan, you decide to get up from the bed. Your feet meet the cold tiles before you curse from the sudden pain you feel as you step on the remote. You have told Leon countless times that he shouldn’t sleep when he’s watching TV, yet the only response you get is “I’m just resting my eyes.” Therefore, that causes Leon to fall asleep with the remote on his chest which obviously falls throughout the night. 

After a while of inhaling and exhaling deeply from the pain, you make your way out of the room. The scenario that greets you is the same as other days just that Leon was missing in the picture. 

Your steps are slow as sleep is still running in your system, a yawn escapes you while you walk towards the kitchen counter. A note is waiting for you and you deduce it’s from Leon.

“I just went to run some errands, I’ll come back as soon as possible. Love you so so much.” 

His name was written at the bottom of the page next to a happy face that he had drawn. Silly, you thought.

You see that Leon had already prepared you a sandwich before he left. It was cold to the touch, so that means Leon has been gone for a while. He may come any time now. 

Life with him was… surely an adventure. He still goes on missions, leaving you to your own devices for days or even weeks. But they no longer haunt his mind like before. He still needs to be treated with utter care after one, though. Bruises and scars are not the only effects his journeys have on him. 

When he returns from a mission, the once dull and boring apartment welcomes him yet this time, it is full of colors and memories you have made with him. However, it’s not enough for him to completely drop his facade of a tough agent ready to end someone’s life. As you treat his wound, every tiny sound has him jumping on his seat. 

You can’t blame him, it takes a while before he can return to his usual self and be embraced by your warm body that will waste no time to hug him tight. Reminding that he was finally home.

Eventually, after settling down and returning to reality, his personality will shine again. If someone asked you to describe Leon in one word it would be impossible. The man that you chose to spend life with was everything all at once. He was definitely clingy, to begin with. Excuses were his everyday words as he tried to explain why it was completely alright for him to follow you everywhere you went.

At this point, it felt like you had adopted a puppy instead of having a boyfriend. “What’ chu doing?” He would often say as he peeked around the edge of the door frame and watched you from afar If he had a tail it’d be wagging so fast. The tough agent no longer existed in your presence, instead, a man who melted as soon as you hugged him took his place.

Loving, in his language, meant going overboard just for you. If he had to get on his knees and beg for a tiny kiss he’d do it. He’s grown needy to those sweet gestures only you could provide. But he didn’t need to win them. Loving, in your language, meant offering your heart on a platter for him.

God does he love you. You have the man whispering funny names in your ears as you wake up. You unlocked a part of him that he had long forgotten he had, he used to joke when he was nervous — freaking out because he thought he might die on a mission. But now, he invented a plethora of new pet names just to bother you and see you rolling your eyes laughing.

He’s gone through so much, he’s seen so much. Tranquility was the last thing he thought he would be surrounded with. Ever since he was forced to join the military, he made up his mind on the fact that his life would never be the same, Racoon City was his starting point and only his death would stop him from suffering.

Now, as you finally hear the door unlocking you admire how his figure appears. You squint your eyes as you try to pinpoint what’s different in him.

“Hey, you.” Leon walks towards you, closing the gap between you two as he hugs you.

“Hey, you too.” You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Missed me?”

“Not much.” You punch his side, not strong enough to make him jump but rather tell him that you were joking. “Now… On what adventures did you go without me?” 

“I just paid a visit to Adelaide.”

Adelaide, you haven’t forgotten about the old lady that you treated. However, you didn’t expect Leon to remain loyal to his service. And now that he mentions it, you realize what he has done to himself.

His hair has turned lighter. Blonder.

“Did you bleach your hair?” You can’t help but laugh at the thought, he had poor Adelaide working so early on a Saturday morning. But then again, you remember that both of them are workaholics, even though their jobs couldn’t be any more different.

“No, you’re going blind.”

God, he was so dumb.

Eternity used to sound like a cruel fate before. Stuck in a loop that he couldn’t escape from. But now, he will always look for you even in the tiniest details. He’d look for you in the darkness as two flicks of light trying to reach each other. In the universe, as two particles of stardust waiting to create something even bigger — a world for themselves, and a world to live on. 

Because, after all, you reached for him when he had nothing more to offer than his rotten self. You loved him when he couldn’t even love himself.

[tightjeansjavi]

Mornin’ Sunshine

A/N: this is a result of my post horny thots so you’re welcome! ♡ ♡ definitely in the realm of self indulgent hehe.

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: early morning slow sensual fucking with Joel Miller

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! Reader

Warnings: smut with no plot, consent, unprotected piv (please wrap it b4 u stick it) slow sex, mutual pleasure, handjob, pussy play, creampie, Joel is such a passionate lover, nipple play, edging, praise kink, pet names, hella chemistry between Joel and the reader, he’s in love love, domestic Joel, soft! Joel, caring! Joel!, he just wants to make sure you cum first! Joel, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, mood board is just used to set the vibe, NSFW (+18) minors dni!

Main Masterlist

If there’s one thing that Joel Miller loves to indulge in as he adjusts to living a domestic life again, it’s you. More specifically; early mornings with you tangled in his sheets, thighs still sticky with yours and his cum from the night before simply because you were too worn out to clean up properly. That’s how he likes it, filthy. Raw. Sensual. He likes being able to dip his hand down between your thighs and gather up your pooling arousal between his calloused fingers. The scent of sex still lingers in the hazy early morning air as his arm drapes around your waist, and tugs you firmly against his chest.

You can feel his wiry patchy beard lightly scraping against the thin skin against your neck as he presses soft open mouth kisses, humming as he breathes out through his nose. Your legs are tangled together under the thick quilt, and he knows you’re beginning to awake from your deep slumber when he feels you reach for his hand, threading your fingers over the top of his.

He’s grinning against your skin, nibbling playfully on the shell of your ear with his teeth. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your lower back. You love it when he wakes up immediately desiring you. Although, how could he not? Your beauty shone both on the inside and within.

He slowly rolls his hips forward, letting out a soft pathetic grunt when you gently push your ass back against him. “Mmm. Good morning to you too..” your voice is sticky with sleep, raspy, yet softer than his.

“G’mornin’ sunshine.” He croons. His voice dips down an octave sending a flush of arousal between your thighs. You’ll never get tired of his thick Texas twang. It’s buttery smooth with a hint of smoke and spice. It drips like sticky sweet caramel, and sets a fire deep within your belly like a splash of whiskey does.

The covers begin to rustle and bend as his hand curves around your hip, he gently squeezes as his hips roll forward once more. “D’ya want me sweetheart?” His question sends your thighs clenching together tightly as you suppress a moan from slipping out.

“Always.”

Pleased with your response, and mutual eagerness, his hand slowly slips from your hip, and down to the cleft of your ass. You're wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton panties as the rough pads of his fingertips gently stroke you through the thin fabric. His eyes are blissfully closed as he feels the dampness pooling. It brings him a sense of pride knowing that he’s gotten you this wet, and he’s barely touched you.

“S’wet.” He hums sweetly into the spot just below your ear, leaving more open mouth feather light kisses. “S’all f’me?” He knows it is, he just likes it when you boost his ego.

“All for you Joel.” You let out a soft-sweet sigh as a smile graces your features. Your arm slowly reaches behind you, fingers finding their way into his soft bed head. He loves it when you play with his hair, especially when your nails scratch against his scalp. He doesn’t even have to ask; your nails are already gently scratching his scalp. He loves it. He lets you know with a soft grunt. It rumbled from deep within his chest before passing through his parted lips.

He scoots his hips back slightly as his hand that was presently toying with you, was now slowly pushing his boxers down over his hips. He sighs as his heavy cock springs free. The bulbous head is weeping with a bead of precum leaking from the tip. He’s heavy in your hand as your fingers slowly wrap around the veiny shaft.

Another grunt, followed by a pathetic whimper as you swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting his arousal as you slowly pump your hand around him. He only seems to grow harder from your gentle touch as his hand brushes across yours, finding your covered slit with ease as he slowly drags his fingers against it, applying just a tad bit of pressure. Your thighs instinctively fall open so that he has easier access to where you drip for him most.

You toy with each other awhile longer, wanting to get yourselves worked up as much as you can. You know exactly what he needs, and he knows exactly what you need. It’s a partnership based on balance after all. Mutual pleasure is something you both deeply relish indulging in.

You’re both a whimpering chorus of sensual sounds. Maestros to your own tunes as you play one another like strings on a violin. He grunts praisingly, you whimper his name.

He’s gently tugging your panties down in a slow movement. He can’t help but chuckle when they stick to your puddle of arousal that has built up between your thighs. He gently peels the fabric down past your calves and ankles.

The sheets rustle as the mourning dove coos just outside the open window. A warm summer breeze kisses your skin as you let out a breathy sigh. He drags the tip of his cock through your sticky wet folds. When he finally begins to sink into your warmth, you both release a shuddered breath as his arms reach up to encase you. His broad size is overwhelming, yet comforting at the same time. He fills you up to the brim, stretching you out as you accommodate his thick size.

You're perfect for him. The perfect partner. The perfect cunt. He knows how much you love when he talks to you in an unbridled, filthy manner. He loves it too. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt.” He murmurs against your skin as he slowly thrusts his hips forward into your ass.

“Always perfect f’me.” He grunts low into your neck. His teeth are scraping your delicate skin while one hand is firmly grasping around one of your breasts with his pointer finger and thumb gently toying with your pebbled nipple.

You mewl out his name, eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he slowly fucks into you. You can feel every inch of his cock move inside of you. God, you love it when he fucks you like this. You love the feeling of him buried so deep inside you, it’s hard to grasp just where he begins, and where he ends.

“Good girl.” He lets out a hot puff of air as he holds you as close as he physically can to his chest. His hips grind against your ass in a circular motion.

Soft giggles are exchanged as he accidentally slips out after pulling his hips back too far.

“Too wet?” You teasingly muse.

He chuckles deeply while gently releasing your breast from his grasp. His hand dips down to where your bodies were previously connected as he grabs ahold of his length and eases it back inside of you. He playfully nips at your shoulder blade, “ain’t ever such a thing of bein’ too wet f’me darlin.”

True.

Instead of grasping your breast once more, his hand gently curves around the crook of your thigh as he coaxes it to rest around his hip with your toes planted firmly on the mattress. He has full access to your pussy, more importantly, your clit as he wastes no time to gently play with you once more.

Your moans increase as his fingers rub your sensitive nub of nerves in quick motions, faster than the rhythm of his hips are fucking into you. It’s a tantalizing combination that has been concocted just for you.

Your moans intensify from the growing sensation in the pit of your stomach. His name falls from your lips like a prayer that is shared just for the two of you. Your sweet little sounds urge him forward. He knows you're close when you try to get away from the intense pleasure surging through your veins. He doesn’t let you. He pulls you right back against his chest, tsking softly under his breath.

“Shh.” He coos. “You’re alright baby. I gotcha. She’s sensitive this mornin’ hmm?” You can feel him smirking against your skin that is beginning to bead up with perspiration. He licks the salty dew like a man starved as he buries his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Jus’ wanna make sure you cum.” He reassures you with one heavy jut of his hips that has you seeing stars between closed eyelids.

“Jus’ wanna love on ya.”

“My baby.”

“My honey.”

“My everythin.’”

Praises fall against your sweat stained skin as he buries himself inside of your warm pussy as deeply as he can reach. Deep enough that his tip is brushing against your cervix. You cry out his name as your nails sink into his forearm. A choked sob, an I love you, a post orgasm laugh as he stays buried inside of you, not wanting to part from your warmth just yet.

He’s kissing you all over as you softly giggle. Your noises that he loves so dearly are cut off when his lips finally find yours. It’s a searing slow kiss. You can taste the passion on his tongue as he breathes out deeply through his nose.

“How d’ya want your eggs? Scrambled, or over easy?” He asks, a boyish grin plastered on his face as he kisses you sweetly.

“Scrambled.” You softly responded, fingers tangling through his hair as you pulled him in close.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @amanitacowboy @saradika @tessa-quayle @darkroastjoel @kirsteng42 @yazsos @casa-boiardi @lovers-liability @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

[lovebugism]

what about fwb!steve and you tease him about going out with someone else and it leads to the most possessive sex ever

✶ ┄ SOMEBODY ELSE !

summary: steve doesn't realize he wants you until you tell him you want somebody else. pairing: slightly toxic!steve harrington / f!reader warning: good ol fashioned smut, 18+ mdni! a/n: this one... this one did something to me ngl

( MASTERLIST )

ok let’s talk about douchebag steve

and how he went through a phase where he would fuck anyone

this man could have the pick of anyone he wanted

no one ever turned him down because he’s literally king steve

and he also has the biggest dick imaginable <3

the first time he’s with you, you don’t treat him like a spectacle

there were no whispers the next day with his name entwined with yours like there normally is with everyone else

it’s kinda refreshing

but it's strange

how you act like the way you just let him fuck you doesn't mean anything to you

it has him coming back to you over and over again

and he isn’t totally used to that either

but really you just like to play with him

steve’s already got a huge ego

you don't want to feed it any more than it already is

so when you tell him that eddie munson invited you to his show and how you can’t wait to be his groupie, you know it’ll set him off

you just weren’t expecting him to fuck your brains out over it

you’re naked and on your stomach before you know it

steve’s got you whimpering and babbling nonsense underneath him as he grinds into quivering pussy from behind

and he’s ruthless

you can barely form an intelligible thought

but you’re gasping for him to let you come anyway

“yeah, i don’t think so, sweetheart… you forgot who this pussy belongs to— so i’ll let you come when i think you deserve it— alright, baby?”

it makes you keen pathetically beneath him at another rejection for a release you desperately, desperately need

“it’s your pussy— this is your pussy, baby— please”

you choke out a sob when he suddenly bottoms out inside your heat and holds himself there

he leans down until you’re practically squished beneath him

you feel his firm torso and fuzzy chest hair press into your sweat-slicked back

you whine as your walls flutter and tense around his cock

it makes it that much harder not to come around him

you feel his wet, kiss-bitten lips at the shell of your ear

“you want someone else to have you? you wanna give my pussy to someone who can’t fuck you like the slut you are? you think he can fuck you the way i do? huh? tell me—”

“no! no, baby, it’s just you— m’sorry.. m’so sorry, baby, please”

you sound so tired and so frustrated and so desperate to come

but steve’s determined to hold your orgasm hostage until you’re completely falling apart for him

until you can convince him that you don’t need anyone else but him

and when you do he’s completely relentless

he stays bottomed out inside you while he rubs your clit something fierce

“who can make you come like i do?”

“no one. 's just you, stevie. just you”

“then show me”

and you do, almost immediately

still pressed between him and the mattress, your body twitches and trembles beneath him

your fluttering pussy around his cock coupled with idea that “no one makes you come like he does” has him not too far behind you

you feel his hips speed up and stutter as he spits several loads of his come within your velvet walls

and even though he was just being so mean to you

steve makes sure to take good care of you after

like he always does <3

he makes sure you’re okay, cleans you up, and gives you some water

you take a lengthy sip and he watches you intently

“still good?”

you nod

“just for the record… i was never gonna fuck eddie.”

“yeah, i know :)”

got any blurb requests? send 'em here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[wileys-russo]

r is a (new) worker in a cafe leah is a regular in. one day leah comes in with a few friends and some fans rush towards them trying to take photos or autographs. eventually the pile of people just kinda grow and block the entry . r sees this and shoos the group of people off for blocking the entrance. and leah is just there standing with that signature smirk admiring this girl who she's never seen before that's just saved her and her friends some time when leah is ordering she talks to r, thanking them for shooing the people off. (+ some teasing and friendly banter and stuff ) they have a small talk before leah's order comes in and she goes back to the table her and her friends in. before leah and her friends leave the musters up the courage to talk to you one more time, asking for your name, your number anything she could use to know you better. r teases leah and says something like "if i call you am i gonna just be 'one of your girls'?" something among those lines. sorry if this is a bit boring but i tried. i love your work btw keep it up!! you're doing amazing🙏

no p2 to this! just a cute little blurb one of your girls II l.williamson

"-and obviously you know how this works?" evelyn, your new boss, chuckled as she patted the top of the large espresso machine. "i certainly hope so." you grinned toothily, the older girl still walking you through it all quickly anyway.

"well, thats the tour over then. jobs yours!"

~

you survived your first few days unscathed, your work ethic and natural confident charm had you well liked among your coworkers and earned you regular hours as customers were showering your coffee with compliments.

the small cafe wasn't overly busy of an afternoon so you found yourself rostered mostly on mornings which you didn't mind, happy to start around five if it meant you could be home not long after lunch time and have the rest of your day as your own.

being one of the only cafe's on the street meant you had a large handful of repeat customers, and with your memory one of your best assets you knew most if not all of their orders off by heart by the end of your first week.

which is why your curiosity was peaked one morning when a group of girls you hadn't seen before came bundling in around seven in the morning, all in matching uniforms you assumed they were on a team of sorts but sports had never been of a great interest to you.

when your friends and peers were running around kicking a football or playing tag you had your head buried in a book or challenging someone to a card game, you were quite introverted until your teenage years and it wasn't until you left school all together that you came completely out of your shell.

as they all took turns ordering you clocked that there was a handful of different nationalities among them, australian, irish, british and something european you couldn't quite place.

they were all friendly enough though, two of them a blonde and a brunette leaning against the counter speaking with you as you made their coffees with a smile, all ordered at once under the same name.

"so which one of you is katie?" you questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow, the brunette sending you a grin. "that would be me, haven't seen you round here before though. you new?" katie questioned, irish accent thick and the grin never dropping from her face.

"could say that. been here a little over a week though and never seen any of you." you smiled back, leaning your head back a little as you frothed the milk and moved the wand out, hot steam flooding your vision.

"ahh see this is our regular spot but we've been jetsettin. famous footballers and all that!" katie winked as you hummed and the blonde beside her rolled her eyes.

"ignore her, if her head and her ego get any bigger she won't fit through the door!" the blonde nodded behind her as you laughed and katie pushed her.

"ah shove off russo. see ya round then new kid!" katie winked again, grabbing one tray of drinks as the blonde grabbed the other and sent you a smile, the other girls following out after them.

surviving the morning rush not long after you were taking a well earned break and sipping at a coffee of your own though you stood as a group of teenagers burst inside, their chatter filling the previously quiet room.

plastering a smile on your face you slipped your coffee beneath the counter and readied yourself to take their orders. as they rattled them off almost all at the same time you did your best to put them through, only missing two as you read them back.

half the group taking a seat a few of the girls hovered by the machine as you moved to start their order, your coworker dipping out back to toast the sandwiches ordered alongside the drinks.

"do you ever get arsenal players in here?" one of them asked as you gave her an odd look. "i don't really watch sports much, sorry." you shrugged honestly, that answer seeming to displease her as she frowned.

"like arsenal women, the football team? any of these girls?" you flinched back a little as another one of them shoved a phone in your face, eyes narrowing as they roamed the team photo in front of you, recognizing a few of the girls with katie this morning.

though sensing maybe there was something a little off with the request, you again shrugged. "don't really remember sorry, we get a lot of people in here, especially on a tuesday morning." you smiled politely as again the girls frowned, turning away from you as you focused on filling their order.

"all done!" you smiled as you slipped the last coffee into the tray, rolling your eyes as they grabbed them and gave you a weird look, hurrying over to their table.

it wasn't hard to know you'd been mentioned once or twice in their conversation as heads frequently turned to glance at you and you pretended not to notice, suddenly feeling like you were back in high school again.

you perked up as the bell for the door rang and a new group entered, but your eyes flickered over to the girls already sat down, recognizing one of your new customers to be in the same uniform as katie and her friends.

sure enough the moment the girls noticed they were up to their feet, crowding around the footballer who smiled politely and took a few photos, but you could see in her eyes that her smile never made it all the way there.

it would seem word traveled fast as within a couple of minutes a second group of teenagers appeared and you watched the blondes polite smile turn to a frown and though you couldn't hear what she was saying, you could see it wasn't being listened to.

brushing your hands off on your apron you hurried around the counter and toward the front door. "hey! if you're not a current customer, out." you warned sternly, raising your voice at the group and nodding for the blonde footballer to step inside.

"i said current." you repeated, blocking the second group of teenagers from entering as the blonde and her friends made their way to the counter. "our friends are in there, we're with them." one of the girls pointed out.

"your friends were just leaving, since their drinks and food are finished." you nodded to the empty plates and discarded takeaway cups sat on the table they'd abandoned.

"you can't kick us out." the girl from earlier frowned with a scoff. "i'm not kicking you out, but we have every right to deny service to people who don't know how to act with respect." you raised an eyebrow.

"and harassing footballers who are just trying to get a coffee doesn't sound very respectful, does it? they're humans too, so how about giving them a little privacy. feel free not to come back!" you nodded for them to move on after that, ignoring the insults thrown your way as you closed the door and headed for the counter, your coworker already taking their orders.

"nicely done, talk about an attitude problem." the girl chuckled as she handed you the order slip, sending you a wink and ducking out back as you sighed with relief it didn't seem you'd be getting in any sort of trouble.

"hey, thank you for that." you looked up to meet a confident smile and a set of bright blue eyes looking back at you. "no problem, but does that happen a lot?" you asked with concern. "more than i want. especially in the last year since the euros!" the blonde sighed with a slight chuckle.

"not a big sports fan, you might need to elaborate on that." you admitted with a smile, the blonde raising an eyebrow with a surprised look. "you don't know who i am?" she questioned but seeing the look on your own face she clearly rethought it.

"jesus that sounded self-absorbed. let me try again, i'm leah!" she held her hand out with a grin, you shook it and introduced yourself back.

"so, you're new around here right? i come at least four times a week with the girls normally and i've not seen you. i'd have remembered!" leah leaned against the counter, confident smile plastered back on her face again.

"seems to be the common theme. let me guess, you've been out of town jetsetting?" you chuckled as leah gave you an odd look. "some of your teammates were here this morning, katie said the same thing." you revealed as leah hummed thoughtfully.

"also seemed to like to think of herself as a big famous footballer, but she wasn't shocked i didn't know her though." you teased as leah playfully rolled her eyes.

"how about i take you for dinner as an apology?" leah asked somewhat hopefully, even surprising herself with the forwardness of her request. "so i can be one of your adoring fangirls? thats cute. but i don't date customers, leah." you smiled, sliding over the tray of coffees

"did you see me order these? they're not under my name, technically i'm not a customer." the blonde smiled charmingly and you shook your head amused at her persistence.

"mm you're drinking them here though? customer." you smiled back, nodding to her friends who were already sat down at a table eating food.

"it was nice to meet you leah, i'm sure i'll see you around."

~

turns out, it was a lot sooner than you thought.

that afternoon to be exact as you were out walking your best friends dog, having agreed to babysit her precious fur baby while she was away at a wedding for a few days.

you watched with an amused smile as bear raced after his ball, laughing as he nearly fell over his paws, the poor puppy growing at a rate which he couldn't seem to keep up with.

you jumped in surprise as suddenly a dog sprinted through your legs in a flash of tan fur, taking off after bear as you heard a groan behind you. "bella! come here, sit, stay, heel! oh fuck whats the word again?" you looked up to see a flash of blonde dart past you next.

"bear!" you whistled noticing the new dog sniffing him curiously, the chocolate labs head whipping toward you as you whistled again and he took off toward you, the new dog following eagerly after him.

as bear dropped in a sit by your feet you squatted down and carefully grabbed the new dogs collar, the owner racing over toward you as you checked the tag, bella.

"well aren't you lovely." you smiled, scratching behind her ears as she licked your hand making you laugh. "bella! we do not lick strangers its impolite." you looked up with a smile which was wiped away as bella's owner looked down.

"wow are you stalking me? crazy fangirl." leah tutted with a smirk as she clipped bella's leash back on and you scoffed. "i'm sure you'd like to think so, but i haven't even given you enough thought to google your last name." you hit back as she gasped and held a hand to her chest, bear running off again as bella tried to follow with a whine.

"my poor ego, that hurt." leah sighed with a shake of her head as bear returned, dropping his ball at your feet as you clipped his own leash back and slipped the ball into your pocket.

"i'm sure it'll recover when the next adoring fan asks you for a selfie. maybe next time i'll leave you to the wolves and just do my job." you smiled, starting to walk off as leah was quick to fall into step with you.

"you mean you're not a security guard?" leah spoke with mock surprise as you hummed. "only a lowly barista." you pouted sarcastically, bear and bella also walking in step.

"might be in the wrong profession, you're proper scary." leah smirked poking at your arm as you pushed her gently, not missing the sarcasm in her tone at the obvious height difference between you both, the blonde easily two heads taller.

"didn't see you complaining about the coffee so i don't think i've missed my calling." you laughed as leah shook her head. "wouldn't know, i had the hot chocolate. not the best i've had!" the blonde shrugged as you scoffed.

"well if you can run on a football pitch like you can run your mouth i'm sure you're just as famous and successful as you think you are." you hit back though the smile on your face betrayed the false offence in your tone.

"oh even more so! best in the world." leah stated dead seriously as you both exchanged a glance and her face broke into a grin, bumping her shoulder into yours.

"well. we're not in your workplace so i'm not a customer, can i take you to dinner? i'd ask you out for coffee but i don't drink it and i'm sure you think you're just as good at making it as i know i am at football." leah smirked and despite the cockiness you could see just a flicker of nerves in her eyes as you both stopped walking for a moment.

"are all footballers this insufferably self absorbed?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow. "only the really really talented ones." leah grinned cheekily, beanie sitting lopsided on top of her head as you smiled.

"fine, dinner. so i guess i have to give you my number then lily." you pulled your phone from your pocket. "leah." the blonde corrected as you exchanged numbers.

"oh was it? just such a forgettable name and face." you shrugged, both of your walking resuming as leah hummed. "cute." the blonde retorted with a smirk and a shake of her head.

"i am. and by the end of dinner maybe i'll have humbled you just enough that i might tolerate a second date with...sorry was it lucy? layla? luna?" you pondered with a frown as leah shoved you with a grin.

"leah."

[useralba]

⋆౨ৎ⋆.˚ — MARRIAGE PACT, JACAERYS VELARYON x HELAENA TARGARYEN

pairing: helaena targaryen x jacaerys velaryon

summary: in times of uncertainty, rhaenyra and alicent strike a marriage pact to end the dance of dragons in fear of losing any more children. helaena and jacaerys marry, and the realm is all the better for it — as are jace and helaena, who, oddly enough; have never been happier.

cw: so much fucking fluff like stfu. referenced anxiety, non intentional self-harm ( kinda? ripping/picking at cuticles like young alicent ) low self esteem helaena.

authors note: hi, personally I am a FIEND for what could have been the best marriage ( helaena x jace ofc ) in monarchical westeros history, and we needed more screen time of them but wtv ( Im so salty). anyway, this is just for fun as baela is my fave girl evaaa and her n’ jace are so so adorbs. i just ship the fuck outta these two so had to write a lil somethin’ about them. cute dividers by @cafekitsune 🪲

the humming, quaint symphony of insects filled the king and queens chambers as she knelt on the floor contently, an emerald beetle crawling over her soft palms as she smiled softly to herself. helaena’s smile only grew as she observed the critter, noting how its shell gleamed in the candlelight in a similiar way to her husbands dragon, vermax. “you missed supper,” a warm, familiar voice spoke softy from the doorway, his statement more of a question as jacaerys watched helaena, a glint of concern in his brown eyes.

helaena glanced over her shoulder, bashfulness written across her porcelain features as she gently stood up, careful to not drop her favourite beetle as she silently walked over to jacaerys, unable to bring herself to meet his intent gaze. “look,” she gently wrapped her fingers around his hand, placing the tiny viridian beast into his rough palm, “he looks like vermax, doesn’t he?” she asked, leaning into his side unintentionally as she anxiously shifted on the balls of her feet, wringing her hands together as she met his eyes.

a large smile spread across his face; the look of upmost adoration swirling within his eyes as he looked down between her and the beetle she seemed so fond of, “he does, although I hope he does not breathe fire, too.” helaena giggled quietly at his weak attempt of a joke, he always did that; tried to make her laugh, and he’d make himself look like some jester of fleabottoms taverns before he would see her frown, no matter the personal expense to his ego. helaena kept her fingers wrapped around his wrist as she led him over to sit on the floor as she had moments ago, he did as she wordlessly instructed, sitting down cross legged as she knelt before him, their faces level-height with her table covered in various golden cages of all shapes and sizes, storing a multitude of vastly different species of insects and critters.

“where does this one live?” jace asked sweetly, holding his palm out to helaena for her take his little ‘vermax’ home. she did so quietly, cooing softly at the critter as she closed the metallic cage. jace laid his hands in his lap, attention returning to helaena, who had her head propped up by her hands as she rested her elbows on the table, staring lovingly at every individual bug she owned.

“why were you absent from supper?” jace inquired gently, his voice and hands soft as they reached out to his wife. she turned her head to him, a small hint of a frown tugged at the corners of her lips as she shrugged, violet eyes finding solace on the intricately woven tapestry strung up on the wall behind jace, one he had made specifically for her to remind her of him when he was gone up north to visit cregan or busy attending the kings respective duties.

“I did not want to go.” she whispered as if it were obvious, his eyebrows knit together, raising momentarily in understanding, “because your brothers were here?” her subtle nod, and the way her shoulders slumped in relief at how he understood her without prying for an elaboration caused a large exhale to emit from her.

“a wise decision, my love — next time I may join you in your absence, I was close to taking aemonds remaining eye, the way he spoke about luke.” jacaerys continued to rant idly about his day, oftentimes rambling into tangents entirely unrelated to his main point of speaking. halaena did not mind at all, she remained knelt infront of him as he sat, holding his hands in her lap lovingly as the whisper of her touch traced the creases and scars on his palms, on occasion placing a bug in his hands and suppressing her giggle as jace scarcely seemed to notice.

“and here I am, treated like the coddled princling by my mother — she forgets I am the king now, it’s humiliating.” he let out a large, exuberant exhale as he finished talking, looking to helaena for consolation; it appeared through her body language as though she hadn’t listened to a thing, but jace knew her better than anyone, and silently awaited her answer. “nobody else thinks that of you, jace. and your mother means well, she is not cruel — she’s just afraid of losing her eldest son to change.”

he nodded, his lips curling slightly as he let out a relieved, heavy breath he had been holding in all week as he succumbed to the expected stress that comes with ruling seven kingdoms while he was separated from helaena. he leant forward, his hands softly cupping her face, “you and that mind of yours.” he said through a smile before pressing a grateful, loving kiss to her forehead before standing up. halaena’s pale face was dusted a light pink at his appreciative praise, placing the back of her hand to her cheek to try shield her smitten grin from him.

“which reminds me — I got you something,” jace said with a small groan as he cracked his back from sitting in the same position for so long, walking idly over to his cloak, beckoning helaena to stand by the mirror with a subtle tilt of his head. halaena mirrored his tilted head, in confusion however, her white eyebrows furrowing as she stood, walking awkwardly backwards to the mirror with suspicion, clasping her hands together out of a concoction of anxiety and excitement; a feeling of normalised by helaena.

she turned to face the mirror, looking at herself with a small frown as she grew self conscious, raking her hands through her ethereal hair and pinching her cheeks for a natural blush, hoping jacaerys would think she was pretty; the mean, teasing remarks spat by aegon and the judgmental looks shot by aemond in their youth formed a tight, painful mould in which every ounce of her self esteem was belittled and squeezed into something miniscule — until jacaerys. from the first moment their betrothal was announced, he had treated her with the upmost respect and looked at her with a genuine kindness and sincerity she had never encountered in the harsh gaze of men before.

now that they were married, his kindness had only amplified, and the croaking self doubt that he didn’t truly want this, or want her, had slowly crept into silence at the back of her mind with every moment jacaerys spent with her. unlike her mangy brother, no matter how agitating the craw of alicent and Rhaenrya were in asking when he would suffice his own heirs; he never put his own tasks or masculine urges before helaena’s comfortability and happiness. while the realm expected him to produce heirs, he produced something the realm hadn’t seen in two decades; a content helaena targaryen.

he slowly pryed her open, across months of amiable dragon riding, conversing about whatever insects fascinated her that week, and truly listening to her strange, forlorn dreams; helaena opened herself up to jace, their marriage had bloomed political and rigid, and through jacaerys efforts and patience, had blossomed into a reciprocated pact of trust, incomparable respect and true adoration. this much was evident when helaena of all people was the first of the two to bring up the topic of heirs — in her own way of course. “do you think our son would want insects everywhere, or would he fear them.” jace short-circuited, and mentally debated whether or not he had infact heard her right. but as she looked to him expectantly, a shy look in her doe-like eyes, he knew he had succeeded in winning the dreamer over.

that was no different from now, she loved him more than she had loved anything else; even dreamfyre, something she deemed impossible. but as he sauntered over to stand behind her as she looked at him in the mirror, she accepted it was true, truer than any vision or dream she conjured, truer than everything that had been presented to her throughout her life out of ‘love’ by alicent, or any of her relatives who shared the emerald-stained blood of her matriarch.

jacaerys noticed how her chest rose and fell heavily, the way she picked at her fingernails anxiously as her mother did. he reached around her front to gently pry apart her fingers from eachother, his gaze locked onto hers in the mirror, “do you trust me?” he spoke calmly in her ear, his dark curls brushing her neck from how his head hovered over her shoulder.

“yes.” helaena affirmed quietly, appearing visibly more comfortable as he placed a reassuring hand on her elbow, his thumb rubbing the dark blue velvet dress covering her skin momentarily before retracting his hands, pulling a small silver necklace from his cloak and gently reaching around her neck to place it on her, his eyes faltering in self confidence for a moment, worried she may not like it.

helaena released a small gasp, a ghost of a smile gracing her features as she looked at the necklace in the mirror. “do you like it?” jace asked, chuffed as he observed the look of pure, unabashed glee that painted her features as her nimble fingers reached up to touch the strangely familiar valyrian necklace. “this was rhaenyra’s.” she stated with an excited, honoured gasp. he nodded, placing his hands absentmindedly on her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder, “yes, daemon gave it to her out of love, my mother sought I may do the same.”

helaena’s face was immediately taken over by a large, beaming smile as she spun around to face him, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace; unsure how to thank him equivalently to his gifts specialty and individuality which could only found in the ash and ruin of what was left of old valyria. a surprised huff of laughter left the man as his arms snaked the entirety of her waist, hugging her tightly before she pulled away to look at him, her hands now finding reprieve in fiddling nervously with the red gemstone in her necklace rather than the reddened nail beds of her fingers.

“I do not know what I can give you in return.” helaena whispered breathlessly, jace’s hands remained holding her close to him by her waist, a near amused grin toying at his lips as he shook his head, “remain happy, and remain mine — that is all I ask in return.” he smiled at her shy nod before leaning down, pressing a gentle, explorative kiss to her lips; smiling into the kiss out of surprise as she braced her hands against his chest, leaning up on her toes to kiss him more before she pulled away, shy and unable to meet his eyes once more.

the royal chambers were once more filled with the serene, continuous hum of insects; now paired with the quiet chatter and hushed giggles of the king and queen of westeros for the remaining hours of dusk. there was not a doubt in the whole of westeros’ minds that the dowager queen rhaenyra had made the correct choice in this marriage pact to end the war; and by dawn, ravens arrived across the kingdoms in celebration of the queen helaena’s pregnancy, affirming the long and prosperous reign of the targaryens and the close avoidance of the second doom of the last blood of valyria.