#so i dont tend to take that home with me too much

[altschmerzes]

in case anyone was wondering, no, family court is absolutely no less insane than criminal court

[aquanutart]

I absolutely LOVE the Squirtle/Wartortle illustrations by kantaro in Pokemon 151!

The Squirtle jumping so joyfully from the rock into the ocean, the colors are STUNNING! I love the contrast of the Squirtle's aqua blue framed in the vivid orange sky, the soft bit of blue reflecting in its shell and its tail just catching the sun, how little and squishy its body looks as it launches itself towards the water with such tremendous excitement!

The lineless style of the background gives me the feel of a travel poster and I sense the tropical environment around it from the rocks and trees framing the corners, the waterfall splashing with as much energy as the Squirtle!

The layered blues on the surface of the water and the bubbles rising at the corner make me FEEL the liquid rising to meet the Squirtle--I can just feel how the next moment it's going to break through and be immersed in a cool island swim!

And the Wartortle running along the sunset beach, this is somehow everything I always imagined for Wartortle! I adore the way the rich purple melts into the warm red/orange sky, the matching purple clouds and shadows in the foreground, and how the dimming sunlight glows red on Wartortle's deep blues!

I love how the yellow and orange of the sky illuminate the lapping waves, I can just feel the gentle motion of the sea at dusk. The aqua color of the ocean matches Wartortle's ears and tail and sets off the red-orange sand, I just love how the colors are here!

Wartortle looks so round and squishy, I love its happiness as it goes frolicking through the shallows, chasing the bubbles caught in the setting sun! The shine and deep shadow on its shell give it an almost jewel texture like real tortoise shell; I love the silhouetted splash Wartortle leaves as it goes running across the shore. It's so full of energy and delight at the end of a gorgeous day! The colors in these are SO vivid and harmonized and the style is so cute and bursting with energy and joy. I just LOVE it (also Squirtle is my starter)

[moonastro]

Groom persona chart

Asteroid groom (5129) in the house

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

So the asteroid groom within the gpc will indicate the overall feeling and overall summed up vibe that your spouse can be linked to. This can interpret what kind of husband he can be and how he may be after marriage.

**********************************************************************

[before you read this post... i want you all to know how grateful i am for each and every one of you <33 i took a little break from posting but will hopefully be back and consistent and hopefully will finish this series quicker.]

{ALSOO.. if you like this series and would like to support a small creator, go and check out my readings here--> 🤍🤍🤍}

**********************************************************************

Groom in 1st house: your future husband can be a real me person. Can really be self aware and just be a confident and bold. He can be a real star and know himself better than anyone else. he is someone that can have a short temper and can have bursts of anger from time to time. although, your spouse can be a very energetic and confident individual. depending on the sign, it can make him become selfish and mine mine mine. especially if in scorpio can tend to hide things that they own or buy and just may not share as much of important information with you like any other couple would do. your spouse can be quite demanding but will give back always. can be a very attractive individual, takes care of his appearance and for sure can spend time by himself emotionally. this does not mean that he will be totally absent but he may just need his own space to just breathe and think.

Groom in 2nd house: so your husband can be a very much material mann. someone who is literally not afraid to spend money on himself and you. depending on the sign especially Saturn aspected or Capricorn, can indicate hoarding so not wasting money neither on themselves and on you even if they have a lot. spouse can be a comfort person, someone who is there and will listen to you and they dont even need to speak a single word and you will feel as if they have helped you a ton. your spouse can be very protective of you physically wise, especially if in the sign of aries, they will be ready to throw hands on anybody who upsets you or just handles you very badly. can tend to be very gentle with you and be very patient with you whether if its when you are facing your problems or when you need time to figure something out hell be waiting there.

Groom in 3rd house: so your fs can be a strong communicator whether it’s him talking for hours and hours or him being a very good listener and a good companion to those who he is in conversation with. This is an indication of your spouse being chronically online whether it’s not that big of a deal, expect him to know everything that’s going on the internet. Since he may be of curious nature, best believe your spouse is the one to even search and do his research when something interesting comes up on his social media feed. He might even post a lot online too. he can form strong opinions and often tend to make up arguments out of the most silliest of things. he may require lots of attention from you and he may just crave the attention a lot of the times. on the other hand, he is someone who is intelligent, smart and very humble and a person that is comfortable to hang and be around with.

Groom in 4th house: spouse can be very traditional and by that i mean that your future spouse is the one who takes roles of the home very seriously. have a leafy faucet, he will take care of it, you try to fix a light bulb, uh uh uh nope, he is taking care of it that sort of thing. he feels like you already have so many responsibilities so let him take care of the handy ones. if groom is in the sign of taurus or virgo even cancer, they will almost be looking out for you and doing the services in prevention to you getting hurt. so they will be like no sit and rest. furthermore, your spouse can be very witty and love to be too comfortable towards you. sometime referred to as 'tmi'. he can share a bit too much information at times and you may have to just pause that for a second to realise what just happened. but that just means that he is very comfortable and trusting towards you.

Groom in 5th house: this placement gives me real childhood sweetheart vibes and i just love ittt. just imagine the one boy that you met on a summer holiday that you later meet in life and you're just like "wait..🤔i know you". so basically with this placement your spouse can be someone that brings out the most inner fun, exciting, adventurous, romantic person within you. he is someone that will laugh when you are crying, cry when you are laughing literally match your energy in any type of situations. this placement is a very peaceful yet chaotic vibe, it gives the sense of seeing no one as beautiful as you, seeing no one but you, laying eyes only on you. he is literally the ray of sunshine to the point that you may literally crave them, like you'll be at work or something and you just NEED to be near him or to be within his presence.

Groom in 6th house: your future spouse can be what you think a normal town guy looks like. not that its bad but he can be very natural and not have too much going on. can work a job that he has had for many years and be too afraid to move on from fear of not knowing what to expect and how it may turn out to be like. on the other note, he can be a very heart warming and positive guy, that tries to live his life to the fullest. he is someone to be the first when it comes to help people out, he finds warmth and comfort in achieving good deeds. this placement is actually very good for those who need someone that does their own thing and have their own responsibilities. they may not like to be tied down to something so maybe staying at home for too long is not his go to and so forth.

Groom in 7th house: ommggg this placement is the biggest definition of a charmer and a spouse that wants fair share of everything so literally his money is your money. may share on bill payments so he may have the rent and you maybe the electric and so forth. he is someone attractive to a lot of other people so can cause a lot of jealous people around you because they may be jealous of the man that you have and they may hate you for it. your spouse is soft spoken and tries to be positive at all times, he can appear to be someone from a Disney book, can be absolutely perfect in your eyes especially if venus is conjunct with groom. your future spouse can be very into beauty and aesthetics, so he may like your house to have a specific colour, design, sets of cutlery, and so forth.

Groom in 8th house: spouse is full of surprises, can be very mindful and very picky of the information that he wants you or other people to know. he is very careful of the words and actions that he does. depending on the sign, like for example if in capricorn, can be a very isolating individual that like to stay away from people, on the other side can have a secret income of money that you may not know about until later on in the relationship with him. another example would be if in pisces, can be an individual with a lot of mental blockages and a lot of mental baggage. this is not me diagnosing your future spouse, i am only stating what this COULD possibly mean because the whole chart should be taken into consideration. on the brighter side, he can be a very emotionally smart person, the one to understand what your feeling or even thinking without you needing to tell them anything. he can also be very emotionally encouraging and comforting individual. also a very highly indication of them only allowing certain people to view his true emotions, can often appear to be hard as a rock but inside could be different.

Groom in 9th house: your future spouse is most likely a genius and an individual with great wisdom. He is full of ideas and creative finds that sometimes has no place to put them into the world. He most likely is smarter than he looks or he is always doubted by his intelligence. This is a STRONGGG indication of your husband being a foreigner or you meeting them in foreign land. Depending on the sign this can tell us the details of how your spouse may reveal his intelligence by. So in Gemini, may talk in a very sophisticated way and can reveal his wisdom through his words and writing especially. He can be a unique and self taught writer whether it’s for work or for himself. If in Taurus for example, can reveal his wisdom through cooking and money making, he may be a very experimental chef and a great cook with a ton of knowledge on recipes. Another thing about this placement is that your spouse may travel a lot, may go on trips a lot and meet foreign people a lot as well. He definitely has good humour and is someone who is known for his attractive humour.

Groom in 10th house: your spouse is mr. worldwide business sugar daddy rich. 🤭no but fr he can be a very chill yet providing person. may not exaggerate as much but will go with the flow and follow your rules in a way. if the sign is in leo, capricorn or jupiter is involved this for sure can indicate a spouse with his bank full. very mature, can indicate an older spouse physically and mentally. perhaps a spouse that is like your mother figure or reminds you of your mother. he can be serious and can take things seriously too much of the time, unless in sagittarius. can be quite an introvert, awkward person but can be an attractive kind of awkward if ya know what i mean. your spouse is the man that gets stares from strangers when in public and literally all eyes on him. there is just something magnetic about him that pulls others to him.

Groom in 11th house: spouse can usually act inconsistently. Meaning that he is really unpredictable in any situation given. Spouse can be quite isolating and may spend time alone or just refuse to do anything with anyone. This isn’t all the time as someone with good aspects can have a spouse that is social, and great with their social life, but this house is rules by Saturn so there is some strictness, discipline and alone time that is a big part of your future spouses personality and overall being. he can be with his friends a lot of the time though, so maybe he can have friends over to the house a lot of the times or him going over to theirs and all. he may have a sense of equality and sense of achievement that he may want to pursue. your fs can have goals that he is eager to reach so slowly he may like to show off his interests in these things with you.

Groom in 12th house: spouse can be distant in a way after marriage. with that i mean that he can always be away somewhere, travelling for work etc. especially if for example in Sagittarius your husband can be away travelling overseas or simply if he is a foreigner can be away visiting family a lot of the times. spouse can become quite lazy in a sense, of course depending on the sign and aspects however with this placement your husband after marriage has this reaction of already having this milestone completed and they know in a sense that they are secure and safe and comfortable and thats why this can make them a bit lazy. furthermore, your husband can become more and more in love with you the more that he is with you. this may really be a very beautiful placement if in the sign of libra or venus is conjunct groom asteroid.

thats it for now, i hope you enjoyed this post and have a good rest of your day/evening/night <<33

[sturniolo04]

No Nut November M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

A/n: in honor of it being November 30 we’re not gonna talk about how I’m late to the party!

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

You and matt knew this was coming. you guys do it you every year and every year you two never get through the 30 days. Which brings you to now, November 1st.

"baby we have to make it the full 30 this year"

matt groans out to you as you are leaning on your tippy toes hugging him as he allows his palms to rest on your ass. The first not so smart move he made

"hey thats not my fault you couldnt keep it in your pants on day 26"

you retaliate as you huff out leaning your head back as matt rolls his eyes at the memory.

" okay yeah i know but seriously this year because the last thing I need is for Chris to rub it in my face that he has more self control sexually than me with Brynn"

he groans out as you giggle at his reaction.

"baby what do yu think of this outfit"

you state as you let in into the dressing room with you after putting on the outfit.

"it looks good"

matt simply states back to you admiring you as you check yourself out in the dressing room mirror. Matt had been already genuinely struggling with this whole no sex , no getting himself off even thing for the whole month, why? Simple he has a girlfriend that he cant keep his hands off of and keeping his hands off has proven to be his downfall each year.

"c'mere"

matt simply states needing something to relieve the pressure that he knew was building up. You turn to look at him as he carefully grabs your hand and pulls you over to him as you sit down on his lap, not thinking too much of it because he is your boyfriend right

"Matthewww"

you gasp quietly not trying to be too loud since you two were in the dressing room still. Looking at him giggling you ultimately feeling the problem.

"i knoww"

he groans out allowing his head to lean against the wall. of the dressing room.

"its only day 15 babe come on get up"

you giggle standing up off of his lap as he quickly places his hands over his lap.

"in a minute i have to wait for this to go away"

he groans out with his head still leaning back fluttering his eyes closed.

"how long is that going to take we are in the dressing room and we have to go home"

you ask knowing it takes him and his friend a good 20 minutes to get it together.

"i dont know it's starting to hurt"

he huffs out exhaling deeply looking up at you.

"just tuck it or something"

you giggle at yourself even having to say that sentence to him as he complies.

"Babyy go put some pants on"

you whine out realizing he must have taken his pajama pants off in the middle of the night probably getting hot to be only left in his calvin kleins. You were starting to feel on edge already which you tend to be in the morning.

"why"

matt smirks knowing exactly why as he begins to stretch to go take a shower.

"dude seriously the fuck you mean why"

you whine out.

"babe im going to take a shower so I don't need them on and I'm eventually not going to need these on either"

matt states referring to his underwear as your face flushes with a shade of pink as the mental image you just got immediately reaching for the pillow you were laying on screaming into it.

"Dude you need to handle that"

chris chuckles as matt finally makes his way out from his room only dressed in freshlove sweatpants.

"i cant"

matt huffs out looking down to see the problem area running a frustrated hand through his messy bed head from his nap.

" im fully convinced you get horny every hour of the day"

chris chuckles seeming to not have the same struggle as his older brother.

"well no shit dumb ass you and brynn like never made it to that base yet"

matt huffs crossing his arms.

"Matt Chris"

you shout coming downstairs from Nick's room running up to matt and jumping up in his arms.

"hey my love"

matt greets you as he catches you his palms landing on your ass as you were clothed in navy blue nike pro shorts and the corresponding fresh love hoodie that you swiped from him that match the sweatpants he was currently wearing.

" what are you guys talking about"

you question the pair as you rest your head on matt's shoulder.

"oh nothing just how your boyfriend gets horny every single hour of everyday"

chris laughs out as you look at matt with his check flushed with a deep shade of pink.

"shut the fuck up"

matt groans out as he leans down with you still in his arms.

"dont drop me"

you squeal out tightening your grip around his neck

“God i would never’

Matt groans out as your ass slightly rubs up against him.

“Oh my goodness Matthew”

You giggle leaning you head in the crook of his neck leaving a loving kiss on his shoulder.

“What movie are we watching love birds”

Nick asks as you all are in the living room having your normal Friday movie night.

“I have no clue we could watch back to the future or something”

Chris suggests as brynn his girlfriend sits down next to him with their designated blanket.

“That’s fine with me where is your lover”

Nick chuckles asking Matt.

“Right here I had to change into comfortable clothes”

You states sighing you walk into the common space closing the bathroom door behind you as you begin to walk over in your pajama shorts to take your spot next to your boyfriend on the couch.

“Do we need a blanket”

You ask Matt softly as he places a loving grip on you bare thigh as Nick and Chris bicker about what movie we should watch tonight. Matt secretly loves that you decided to wear your pajama shorts already feeling the sudden tightness in his plaid pajama pants from how perfect the bottoms showcase, your hips and ass.

“ baby’

You question him again when you didn’t get a response. Matt quickly shifts his gaze towards you to make eye contact snapping him out of what it looked like a moment of deep thought from what you could read from his given facial expression.

“ you Okay”

You  ask as he lets out a deep sigh. Matt, finally, giving up and beginning to act on his intrusive thoughts, stand up from the couch, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder with his tattooed, arms tightly gripping your thighs 

“ Matthewww where are we going”

You squeal out from the sudden action Play fully kicking your feet 

“ chris’ you win I give up “

Matt quickly rushes out as he begins to walk towards his in your shared bedroom in the house. it was safe to say that you two decided not to put yourself through the November challenge ever again 

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @emely9274 @ksturnz @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333 @stayingstromboli

[damn-stark]

Hi! I am not sure if you are still taking requests but if you do I have this idea where husband! Hwang Jun-ho and wife!reader expect a babyboy after he is done with the games and stuff and he can finally focus on his family he is extremely grateful to have. I dont know if this is interesting enough 😀

You come first

Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

A/N- this was such a great request thank you :)

Warning- Fluff! And talks of pregnancy

——

“Hello?” His call echoes down the hall as he walks past the front door.

He waits for an answer, but he receives silence, utter silence when usually you’d be quick to answer as you’re excited that he made it back home with a beating heart, but alas, there’s not even music playing from any part of the house. Usually, the music is on so the house doesn’t feel so alone, but…there’s silence.

Thus Jun-ho walks in further and calls out your name before following up with his next question. “Are you home?”

Silence is the immediate response once again, but this time he doesn’t get to fill it with one last question because you finally make yourself known. “Yes!”

Seconds later the sound of your feet hitting the floor grows louder the closer you get, until finally you round the corner of the hall and stop to greet him. “Hey.” You smile timidly, but Jun-ho doesn’t process the way you smile because he closes the gap between you to press a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey,” he says softly before pressing another kiss on your lips.

When he pulls back he raises the bag of take-out food to show it off. “Hungry?” He asks.

You sigh and nod stiffly before you leave the hall and take the bag of food to take it into the kitchen. Usually, you tend to fill this time with different conversations and questions, but nothing is said while you get ready for dinner and Jun-ho doesn’t even have the mind to question it because his mind is elsewhere just like yours.

Thus having two lost minds results in a prolonged silence that sticks with you until after dinner when you’re both in the kitchen washing the dishes you used.

“I want to tell you something,” Jun-ho breaks the silence first, making you lift your gaze off the dish you’re drying to look at him.

“What is it?” You probe.

Jun-ho draws out a deep breath and turns the water off to give you all his attention and not have the sound of the running water be a pesky third wheel. Which in turn makes you put the dry plate down to then give him your undivided attention.

“I decided…I am going to abandon my search of the Island and In-ho,” he reveals, causing your breath to hitch and words to fail to form in your mind, leaving room for him to continue.

“You gave me an ultimatum when I barely escaped with my life—”

“But I told you—” You cut him off but he doesn’t let you finish.

“It doesn’t matter if you took it back. A part of you still feels that way. You just chose to push it aside for the sake of our marriage,” he says everything you feel but never wanted to tell him for exactly that, the sake of your marriage. So now that he says the exact words you kept inside, you feel a weight lift off your chest, but something else still weighs you down.

“But I won’t put it at risk anymore. I won’t destroy my marriage or my family, and everything I love because of this obsession because you’re right…it was an obsession,” he continues to share everything that he was thinking over on his ride home and while you were eating dinner. “And I can’t let it continue to plague my every thought.”

You sigh deeply and slowly lower your head to gather your thoughts before you interject. “Are you sure?” You question him as you slowly meet his gaze again. Not because you doubt him, but because you know what it meant to him.

“Your brother. That Island. It all means too much to you for you to just throw it all away,” you get that last weight off your chest, making him close the small gap left between you to cradle your cheek ever so softly.

“I’m certain,” he presses confidently. “And you know why? Because I have you. You mean more to me than any of that. Besides, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. I know that now.”

You let out a deep breath and cup his hand before offering him a relieved smile. “Good. I’m glad…I am sorry that you have to now suffer the pain of having to leave it behind, but I am happy you chose to,” you say softly before you caress the back of his hand and then lean in to gently smash your lips on his, bringing a passion that makes him cradle your face with two hands so he can deepen the kiss.

Sure the act of passion doesn’t last but that’s because you pull away with a shy smile and a gleam in your eyes. “I have to add that I am glad that you chose to leave that dangerous mission behind because I have something to tell you,” you pause and pull one of his hands off your face to press his palm on your belly.

Jun-ho is confused for a second, but only for a second because he then understands what you’re trying to tell him without using any words.

“Are you sure?” He gasps.

You grin slowly and nod. “I was reading the results the doctor sent when you came in,” you share your previous silence. And before either of you can embrace each other or make any sort of commotion, you wrap his hand with yours and pull it to your lips. “So promise me that you are certain about your choice because if you’re not and you leave again. I…won’t be here to wait for you. We’ll leave and this time there won’t be second chances because he comes first now.”

Jun-ho grabs your face again so you can hold his gaze and he nods confidently, making tears crawl out of your eyes and your heart tskip a beat with glee.

“You come first. You and our child,” he assures you with his eyes brimming with tears, but unlike you his tears don’t fall. He smiles a purely blissful smile as he looks at you with all the love in the world.

“And how can you possibly know that we’re having a boy?” He asks with a laugh.

You giggle. “I’m starting to manifest a boy.”

He chuckles and then pulls you for a long and loving kiss filled with all his joy and excitement, and overfilling you with that bliss as your lips are molded together.

[fatkish]

Heyy, if you dont mind. Could you do a dazawa oneshot in which he has a daughter and he found out she selfharms? Like, he finds her doing it. Practicly hurt/confort

Thanks, have a nice day

(Write it only if you feel comftable with it)

Aizawa x Daughter Reader

(Trigger Warning: the following contains mentions of self harm. If you’re sensitive to that please be advised)

Aizawa is a very busy man. And he’s also a very observant man as well as tired. As his daughter, you try to lighten his workload by helping and doing what you can. Every morning you make bento lunches as well as breakfast for the both of you. If you accidentally cut yourself then you just put a bandage on. Nothing too suspicious. You’re also in the hero course so it’s normal to be a little banged up. Aizawa knows that you’re a good cook but even the best sometimes make mistakes so he isn’t too worried.

You tend to cut yourself and hide them beneath bandages and other small items like watches and such. You had done really well at hiding them. You tried to not do it too often, but as your stress increased, so did your cutting. Eventually you were ‘clumsy’ too often but Aizawa chalked it up to you not getting enough sleep and told you to only make breakfast in the morning and stop making lunches since the school has lunches, so you could get more sleep. If that wasn’t enough then you guys could pick up breakfast.

But even so, the bandages being to stay longer, get bigger. Aizawa knew something wasn’t adding up but what was it? Late one night, Aizawa got home and knocked on your door, opening it only to see you with an Exacto knife at your wrist and multiple cuts. Aizawa’s eyes widened at the sight as the entire world stopped for a moment as he watched the blood drip from the cuts. Silentlyhe walked in and entered your bathroom, and came out with the first aid kit.

He opened it and sat down next to you. Taking the knife from you and without saying a word, he began to clean and treat the cuts before he bandages them. You were worried as he wasn’t saying anything but as you went to ask him something he spoke.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re doing this?”

“I-“

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything. If you need me to fix an issue then I’ll do that, if you just need to talk then I’ll just listen. If you’re uncomfortable with talking to me then we can find someone else for you to talk to. “

He spoke softly as he cleaned and rebandaged all the older cuts. Once he finished he set everything down and looked at you with teary eyes. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly as he kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much. I hope you know that. I’m sorry that you’re going through this but just know that I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my little girl and you’ll always be my little girl. Now, let’s go have some ice cream and maybe watch a movie, or we can just talk if you’re up for that?”

As he stood up and held a hand out to you to help you up off your bedroom floor you looked at him as he turned to leave.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“I’m not mad, I’m sad, yes, but I’m not angry at you. I know that you’re going through something. I’m just upset that I didn’t realize this sooner. You know you can talk to me about anything. Even girl stuff like boys and periods. But I doubt you’d want to talk to your old man about that stuff.” He smiled softly at you as you gave a soft chuckle.

“Dad, you’re not old”

“I know, now c’mon, let’s go”

He motioned for you to follow him as you walked into the kitchen. He pulled a container of your favorite ice cream out of the freezer and scooped some into a bowl before handing the bowl to you. He then scoped a bit out for himself before putting the ice cream back and joining you on the couch in the living room. That night you ate ice cream and snuggled with your dad in his lap as he held you, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

You talked to him about how you were feeling and why. He nodded and stayed calm, listening carefully and reassuring you that he loves you. You ended up falling asleep on his lap. He then carried you back up to your room and laid you down in your bed before pulling the covers over you and kissing your forehead goodnight.

The next morning, you and him, removed all the sharp objects from your room and put them in a box so you wouldn’t have the temptation. Aizawa helped you cook breakfast that morning. (Meaning he mostly watched and drank his coffee as you cooked since he was so tired) you both then left for school.

[bluerthanvelvet444]

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: sfw and nsfw.

warnings: none.

character count: 7k.

this was a request!

ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷

He LOVES playing games with you.

Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.

He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.

His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.

���Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.

“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.

“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.

“Who said I paid for it?”

He takes you anywhere you want.

You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.

You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.

In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.

He always matches your mood.

If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.

If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.

If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.

He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.

You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.

“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.

“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.

“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.

“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.

“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.

“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.

He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.

“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.

“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”

“Oh.”

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

He’s horny 24/7.

Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.

You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.

“I barely touched you…” You teased.

“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.

He’s such a switch.

You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.

“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.

“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.

He’s open to all types of sex with you.

Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.

Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.

Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.

Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.

No toys!

One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?

He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.

Quickies in public are more common than you think.

With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.

“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.

“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.

He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.

“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind

a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶

all rights reserved!!

[artsninspo]

VERY MERRY MARTINI🍸 - RIO X READER

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

: ̗̀➛ rio's library - good girl nbc

𐙚 based on this request | ♡ a flash forward of this

summary: Returning home for Christmas dredges up old wounds and unexpected sparks. Between family chaos and a chance encounter with her first love, Rio, she’s swept into a whirlwind of bittersweet memories and heated confessions. Can they rewrite their story, or will their past keep them apart? A cocktail of love, nostalgia, and second chances awaits.

tropes: second chance romance, small town nostalgia, reformed bad boy & unresolved emotional conflict - angst, fluff and a sprinkle of steam

pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

word-count: ~ 2K

You pluck a peppermint from the dish at the bar, untwisting the wrapper and pluck the candy into your mouth as nostalgia hits you. Sucking on the candy you remember a time where your granny’s crystal dishes were full of them and Christmas meant family and holiday cheer instead of restaurants and swanky parties. Your parents divorce has shattered all the warm and fuzzy feelings and in spite of being back in town for the first time in almost a decade everything feels different - but not in a good way. Being a child of divorce to two prideful parents is a full time job.

“What can I get for you?” a young bartender smiles.

“A … merry martini” you respond with a smile checking the menu.

“Coming right up” he winks flirting for his tip. You shift in your seat looking at all the other rejects who like you have nowhere better to be. The drink is slid in front of you and you open your purse.

“You're too pretty to pay” he winks, making you smile.

“Merry christmas” you say, raising a glass to him and taking a sip to take the edge off. Your holidays are stacked with activities and outings. Both of your parents want to show off their girl - like you’re some prized fucking heifer. They’ve tried their best at normalcy so there's no room for honest discussion on how much the chaos hurts. Your father went from married man, to divorcee where you and boxing were the light of his life. But you had been replaced with a new wife and a son who could be his prodigy. Then there was your mother who’d left the marriage committed to becoming her own light. Now she shines so bright it's blinding. Her and her husband are so perfect it’s hard to share space with them. Not to mention the competition between both parents had you in a constant tug of war.

“Another one please” you smile shamelessly placing a twenty in the tip jar.  The bartender nods without judgement making another one. This time you wince at the strength of the first sip. “Perfect” you wink and he smiles tending to the other patrons.

“Davis”  a man introduces himself to your left. Your mind tells you he's a predator. When you’d been looking your best he had not approached but after two drinks in under five minutes he's grown a pair.

“Not interested” you respond dismissively.

“Why not, you dont think I'm handsome?” he asks but you'd bet your last dollar he was married. You glance at his left hand and bingo, there's a faint indentation. The vulture in front of you thinks he’s gonna get some easy ass.

“I could be piss drunk and never give you the time of day or night - get lost” you tell him not in the mood to be used and discarded or sold a dream.

“Is that so?” he asks a glutton for punishment.

“Mhm” you respond, draining cocktail number two and he smiles handsome enough under the right circumstances.

“Maybe I was just being kind to the trainwreck at the bar. Spreading holiday kindness to the less fortunate” he jabs.

“No wonder your wife doesnt fuck you, I wouldnt either. How does putting me down make you feel, mister kind man?” you ask patronizing him some more. His chest rises and his body goes rigid.

“Careful Davis, this one’s pretty but will lay your ass out” a voice says, giving you goosebumps. “Her pops owns the three boxing gyms in the city. That means after she’s done with you - if she tells pops at least one of the guys will catch you outside” he continues and Davis looks between you and the man with resentment before standing and finding somewhere else to be in the bar. You feel your heart race and try to get yourself together before you turn around.

There he is, in all his glory somehow more attractive now than he’d been all those years ago. Your eyes catch a tattoo on his neck and he slides you your third drink but that's way too dangerous now with him in your midst.

“You were never afraid” you mutter and he smiles.

“Ahh, I lack good sense remember. Your pops only had one gym at the time” he shrugs using the line you used in your break-up. He’d done you dirty, broke your heart and then thumbed your nose in it. He was a part of the reason you never came back home.

“Right” you nod and he looks at the drink with an amused expression. It hadn't been all bad. He could still vividly remember all the nights he spent looking up at his ceiling because the morning couldn't come soon enough. He couldn't wait to see you, feel you, kiss you, sneak you into his house while his granny was working. Nobody topped the feeling you gave him till this day. The two of you had been inseparable and he never cared what people said - he was in love with you and wearing it for everyone to see. It was why your rejection hurt so bad and Nick’s betrayal cut so deep. You never listened, never stopped to hear him out while hurling insults through tears. He couldn't get a word in and then you never spoke to him again - not even when he tried being civil at your graduation.

“How long are you back for?” Rio asks testing your energy towards him.

“None of your business” you respond, making him smile.

“So it’s like that?” he asks.

“It’s like that” you respond.

“So what? Are we gonna be beefing forever?” he asks.

“Why are you behind the bar? You aren’t nice enough to be a bartender.” you comment sipping slow.

“You know me well. I'm the owner,” he says.

“Makes sense,” you nod, looking him over again. The prime location and atmosphere, along with the internet reviews was a signifier of success. “Graduated from illegal to legal impairment” you swallow.

“Look, enjoy your drinks, if you need a cab have my boy call you one” he snaps in bad humour before walking away. He didnt take shit from anyone these days and that would never change. The edge is back on so you scroll looking for another bar and when you find one you head to the bathroom to sober up. Finished from relieving yourself you re-apply your lipstick and fix your hair in the mirror when Rio enters locking the door of the swanky bathroom behind him.

“What's all this?” you ask genuinely confused.

“In case I never see you again I didn’t sell drugs on the job that summer. I stopped like you asked and it fucked Nicks business up because I was the money maker. He asked me to come back and I said no because I was all in on us and the naive shit we had planned. Nick being the spiteful bitch he is, set me up, he knew you’d dump me and you did. You wouldn't hear me out and I couldn't say shit to the cops or my granny would have had two of us inside at once. Couldn't write it in the letters you didn't read either cause they read it and you wouldn't be near me.” Rio says and you look into his eyes. One thing remains true - you still can't tell when he’s lying. Your brain wants to say something smug and spiteful but your heart wants to accept it as truth and move on.

“I was alone and I needed someone to be angry at - it couldn't be my parents so I made it you. Don't sweat it” you shrug, opting for something in the middle.

“Your pops misses you like crazy” he surprises you.

“How do you know that?” you ask.

“We have dinner together once a month, he signed on as my mentor as a part of my probation. Even gave me a loan for this place” Rio says, telling you things you’ve never known.

“He always liked you,” you nod.

“Yeah we’ll I only really meet with him to hear updates about you, every fucking time I hold my breath hoping that I dont hear youre married or engaged because in my head youre still mine” Rio declares speaking directly to your heart. It was the Rio you knew and not the one that got in a relationship with one of your classmates when he was free from his stint in juvie. Although you knew it was just to hurt you, it still did.

“I’m gonna go” you whisper walking forward but he doesn't move around the barred door. He’d been your safe place through the most turbulent times and you’d not returned the favor. Tears well and you wipe them away feeling the effects of the alcohol. Rio catches your arm as you reach for the lock, his eyes lowering as he looks down at you. A thumb swipes away the tears.

“I’m sorry” he whispers, maintaining eye contact. You're seventeen again and find your face scrunching up embarrassingly. Rio continues wiping the tears away feeling emotional himself as he takes you into his arms cradling you into a hug. There was so much that was different, your perfume, your shampoo, how your body felt in his arms, the heels instead of sneakers. The bathroom bar instead of sneaking into the one at your fathers gym. His love for you was unrivalled. The tears slow to a halt after a few minutes and Rio’s hands slide lower down into your lower back. When you look back at him his eyes are encouraging. It's a relief that he finds no satisfaction in your moment of weakness.

“Fix your make up, stay pretty” he says kissing your temple in a gesture so casual it could only be out of love. You don't question him getting your items from your purse again and doing a quick touch up. When you're finished Rio examines the armour you’ve crafted to protect yourself from your own vulnerabilities and gives a nod of approval. Your heart swells with love for him. He takes your chin leaning in for a kiss. It had been too long since your lips had known his. Too long since his tongue claimed yours while being body to body. Since his hands grabbed handfuls of ass and trailed up against the skin of your torso. 

Loud knocks on the door ends the steamy moment.

“I need to PISS” someone slurs on the other side of the door. You smile, stepping back and ridding the smudged lipstick from Rio’s lips. He does the same for you, unlocking the door and moving aside. The drunk patron rushes into a stall paying neither of you any mind.

“Let me take you home,” Rio offers.

“I don't want to go home” you respond.

“You’re going home, I’m not touching you again until you're sober. I need you to feel and remember my shit, you don't get to pretend to forget after I’ve been waiting this long” he says holding your hand. You can't help but smile at his mean ass. He drags you to his office where he gets his keys and to the black truck waiting in the barking lot. He gets your door like old times adjusting the seat to your comfort. His heart races the entire trip to your hotel and he stays in the car knowing he doesn't have the will power to refuse you twice. He watches you turn around and he rolls down his windows so you can see him instead of the tints. Smiling makes you feel optimistic for the first time this entire trip. Hand to lips you blow him a kiss. He smiles, unable to maintain his hard exterior.

“Fuck me” he laughs knowing hes down bad for you. 

Heading to the hotel you hum along to the Christmas music playing in the lobby, sucking on another peppermint you smile at the nostalgia of your and Rio’s good times. Excited to be back home and for the promise of a very merry Christmas.

authors note: thank you for reading, i'm working my way through the holiday requests so yes this will be a one of one, since I'm pretty sure we all knows what happens next. it rhymes with next without the t 😉

Writing for this amazing community is such a joy, and your support helps me keep creating.

If you enjoyed this fic: ❣ Like the post to brighten my day! ❝ Comment—whether it’s a detailed review or a single emoji, I’d love to hear your thoughts. ↺ Reblog to share the story and connect it to others who might love it too.

Vote below and let us know which trope has your heart! ❤️

tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

[moonphaseswrites]

I got an idea but not sure if you are comfortable to write or not.

Poly!NiktoKrueger x reader. I feel like these two are going to be so much fun, especially in bed.

i whole heartedly assumed that it was way too early for me to actually start getting requests! ive hardly had this account up for 24 hours! this excites me to know that ive peaked peoples interests!!

and of course, i havent thought too much of krueger as of late, so i may not portray him too well.

poly!niktokrueger x reader thoughts! both sfw and nsfw, dont worry

sfw

despite the two men being on active duty and neither seeming to be touchy or affectionate people, they happen to make great lovers. between niktos voices calming down with kruegers unneeded usage of german, usually so nikto can zone out, and just your calming aura calming his head down, its not as hectic as youd imagine.

of course, if you didnt know any german or russian going into this, oh boy will you know at least how to speak a bit of each within a few months.

krueger is the one out of the two thats constantly using petnames and sweet talk on the two of you. he adores giving you two gifts, usually something as simple as little notes that he hand wrote. these notes tend to have both an english and a german translation.

the names he calls the two of you vary, but usually stick to the same theme. he is big on the use of "mein". making it known constantly that youre both his, and that he wouldnt think of separating.

your nicknames from your austrian boyfriend are "schatz" and "maus". his name for nikto is "spatzi", although he interchangibly uses "liebe" and "liebling" on both of you.

your russian boyfriend on the other hand isnt a huge fan of nicknames or many loving gestures. he finds it very difficult to express himself, especially with constant arguing going on inside his head about how he should react.

that being said, hes more of the acts of service type of guy. he knows all too well that you can simply take care of yourself, but when hes home he has a knack for telling you to shut up as he quietly does mundane things. washing the dishes (yells and curses at you and krueger if you try helping), tying your shoelaces for you, and even bathing you. its his way of showing that he really does care, even if he doesnt or cant show it in any other way.

i feel like theyd both be a bit overprotective with each other, constantly deployed at around the same times, usually ending up grouped together when deployed at the same areas. meaning theyd also be a bit obsessive protective of you. youre theirs, body mind, and soul. all theirs.

nsfw

being protective, if anyone ever tried to chance the fact that you were theirs, theyd stick a bullet in the person. although, theyd probably joke about pinning and fucking you over the dead body... although youre hoping that its all just a joke.

as nice as it would be in bed, whenever the two of them get home from a long deployment, theyre all over you. nikto being a bit more touchy than usual, rubbing your shoulders and your back. while krueger on the other hand is acting like some needy mutt, almost sitting on his knees in front of you, trying to lean his cheek against your thigh, slowly tugging his face covering to offer up his mouth.

both men tend to be more dominant leading, going at it as more of a duo than anything. although, if there had to be one who was the ultimate dominant, it would be krueger. explaining to nikto just how to do things to make whatever it is feel great, either to whoever was within niktos grasp or even nikto himself.

some nights its you on your back, spread across the shared bed as nikto uses your throat to get off, being rougher than he intended to be as he lost himself. sometimes your hands are tied behind your back, and sometimes youre helping him with your hands as well. its during these times that krueger is pretty much a service top, giving you head while you choke and whine pathetically. any squirms or sudden movements gaining a gentle nip to where his mouth is, occasionally nipping your inner thighs instead.

if youre into biting or pain, theyd make sure to mark you up really good. bruises to mark their territory like some stray mutts, but making sure any bad or violent marks are treated properly with a nice clean.

because their is two of them in this relationship, each with their own needs, youre almost always left satisfied and laid down between the two.

nikto, usually over heated and overstimulated with everything after constant interactions, keeping a bit of a distance between you, but he stays faced towards you in order to witness your tired yet blissful expression. gazing and watching you for a while before you would fall asleep.

krueger curls up against you on the other side of the bed, muttering german compliments and praises into your ear. his hand affectionately caressing your side with a half assed hum, or gently kneading onto your hip and lower abdomen in silent apology for any rough touches.

[badaseyebags]

hi hru?? ur amazingg

can i request a bada smut, when she comes back from dance class clingy and horny, but reader is cooking (idk, just doing something) and has to finish?

if u dont want/cant write this, its totally ok, dont feel bad and dont pressure yourself too much. love youuuu<333

but first.. dessert ⋆｡°✩ birthday cake

warnings: whiny/needy bada, she’s basically desperate, lots of making out, low-key cringe my apolocheese, it’s cute but it’s also not, bada herself.

word count: 1,5k

authors note: hi dear anon, first of all i would like to apologise for taking so so long to finish writing your request, and also hope you don’t mind me turning this into a birthday piece and not writing full on smut just yet! thank you for requesting, feel free to leave feedback (very appreciated) requests open <3

it’s currently 3 pm and bada’s class doesn’t end until 3:45, meaning she won’t be able to get home anywhere before 5pm. which means.. almost another hour or so of torture. the torture being her not being able to get her hands all over you as she would really wishes she could right now. all she has to do is distract herself for the time being before she can fulfil her wishes. simple enough, right? well it would be, if it wasn’t for the dizzying heat spreading trough out her whole body ..and for the naughty visions she created of you causing her to feel this way. if she could take you right now, right here in her studio, she would. no questions asked. no hesitation. she wouldn’t even care to shut the door, too impatient to get a feel, a taste, a touch, or anything she can. the way she would bend you over and watch you take her from behind and- okay, no. this was getting harder by minute. sometimes she’s thankful she wasn’t born a man, because she would have a “harder” time physically masking what you do to her almost 24/7.

the more she tried “distracting” herself, the more need she ended up feeling towards you. shaking her thoughts off, she continued showing off her dance skills, her movements becoming even more sensual than they usually tend to be. not that anyone minded, they were used to this by now. heck, they even appreciated it if they had to be honest. seeing her grind on the floor and smack the air was nothing out the norm, anyone would of thought she was just in her element. what they didn’t know was that she was imagining you under her the whole time, her cap covering her dark eyes that held nothing but lust at the moment. after what felt like long years it was finally time for her to leave. she didn’t even stay behind for a little talk session with her students as she usually does, politely excusing herself and dashing out the door. she was practically sprinting towards her car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, making her knuckles turn white. she had one priority right now and that’s all that mattered.

meanwhile you were in the kitchen trying to be a sweet good girlfriend for bada, preparing a little birthday surprise for her. not that the breakfast you prepared for her this morning and brought to bed wasn’t enough, or you feeding it to her as her grin grew wider. but you really wanted to surprise her when she comes back. she shouldn’t be home for at least 30 minutes or more like a hour that she usually spends chatting in her studio after her classes. it’s her birthday after all and you’re sure her students won’t let her go so quickly without wishing her all the best and more. you planned to dress up real pretty for her once you finish baking, and according to the clock you still had plenty of time. you were currently wearing nothing but one of bada’s oversized shirts that didn’t do much to cover your body, stopping just in the middle of your thigh, and a cute little apron on top to prevent it from getting dirty as you decorated the first batch of your strawberry vanilla cupcakes, the other still baking in the oven. you had this cute little idea of assembling the cupcakes in the shape of a full cake. it would save a lot of hassle cutting uneven cake slices, you thought. you sigh, sleepily wiping your forehead with the back of your whipped cream covered hand, given that you’ve started baking right after bada’s tall figure left the door just so you could get everything ready in time.

your soft humming to the beat of the song playing in the background was interrupted by an abrupt sound of keys jingling, followed by the handle being turned. you turned your head in surprise blinking in confusion, heart dropping to your feet. feeling a little embarrassed and caught off guard since you wanted all of this to be a surprise, well.. it would of been, if you’ve gotten the chance to finish it. you didn’t even get the chance to fully turn around to face her, to give her a proper greeting before she eloped you in a tight back hug, her large arms securely wrapping themselves around your waist. a place they almost belonged. you could feel her, smell her, and even hear her before you could see her.

“bada! is it 5 already?” you turn your head slightly to get a peek at her unusually out of breath self. she’s in very good shape it’s not likely seeing her so out of breath, unless she just finished dancing, or in this case ran to her to you faster. she just shakes her head, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple making your heart flutter. “no no baby, i just couldn’t wait to get home..” she buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent giving you goosebumps, her voice dropping a little lower. your ears perk up as you suddenly notice her breathing much heavier then usual, her sweaty hands gripping onto your waist a little more possessively than you’re used to. you tried to keep your composure and continue decorating cupcakes, acting as if nothing was going on, but bada’s strange behaviour had your head spinning.

was she… in the mood or something? your suspicions further confirmed themselves as the innocent sniffing turned into rushed pecks to your neck, gradually transforming to soft nibbles and messy kisses. your movements came to a halt, eyes widening as you heard her whine against your skin. “please.. i need you so bad… i had to come home early because i couldn’t help myself.” your hands grip the piping bag out of instinct, causing some of it to spill on the counter and all over your hand. “you’re gonna let me have you right… you’re gonna let me take you… please baby say you will.” she growled into your ear, her hands slowly sliding down your hips and under the thin fabric covering your skin.

“bada i.. i have to finish this, it was supposed to be a surprise-“ you weakly mumble as you feel her large hands rub over the bare skin of your hips. “let me finish you first… you didn’t even wear panties? is that another surprise for me? please, let me have a taste..” she was practically begging at this point, her chest pressed tightly against your back. you couldn’t hold back anymore, turning around to face her was a huge mistake. seeing her in this state only made you weak in the knees. her wavy hair all messed up, sticky bangs pressed against her forehead. cheeks flushed, sweaty clothes sticking to her skin, chest rising up and down with her glossy eyes staring at you with pure desperation. you look up at her admiring her beauty as you cup her cheek, some of the whipped cream leaving a stain behind. she was quick to catch it, her tongue sticking out to lick the remains of the sugary cream as she held your hand against it, moaning softly as she closed her eyes. you’ve decided you had enough, you couldn’t even handle it anymore. with little effort you pulled her face to your level, catching her off guard. her hands fell on the counter behind you, successfully trapping you in the middle as you gave her the softest most gentle loving kiss and pulled away. she whines leaning into another kiss but you pull away again with a gentle giggle to tease her, just to rile her up more.

she huffs as she grips your hips, effortlessly lifting you up on the counter. one of her hands cups your jaw and the other rests on your thigh as she forces herself between them, crashing her lips against yours. this kiss being anything but gentle, unlike the previous one. your arms instinctively wrap around her neck to pull her in closer. she suddenly bites down on your bottom lip, making you shriek but all she does is shiver and kisses you harder, her lips sliding down your jaw and all the way to your neck, painting it in multiple hues of red and purple. you grip onto her hair, partly to make her slow down and partly because you wanted more. “bada slow down, what are you doing-” you lean your head back nonetheless giving her more access to your neck, skilled hand undoing the messy bow of your apron. “decorating my cake before i get to taste it.” she mumbles against your skin, nipping harder as she tosses the apron aside. her kisses trail up higher once again, her voice soon interrupted by the sound of the oven timer going off, her lips swallowing all and any protests before they could ever leave yours.

[mchlgayser]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 [tokyo revengers various]

⸻ cw: hurt/no comfort, triggering events and poor writing skills.

qeena's brief note: i'm here after nearly a month went MIA

໒꒰ྀི o̴̶̷̤ ̯o̴̶̷̤ ꒱ྀ১ first of all, thank you so much for 1.13k followers on tumblr (i honestly still can't believe it lol) you guys did a lot for me throughout my years here in this platform like bro i love you guys sm andddd thank uuuu! ik lots of my ole mutuals are no longer active but still, thank you so much to you guys for your continuous support 💙 and thanks to my readers (from jude girlies readers to anime girlies readers), thank you so much. last to wrap things up, here a small sorry gift from me after went missing, a tokyo revengers drabble! happy (sad) reading xoxo!! i love you <33

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎: too preoccupied with his work.

The sun disappears behind the horizon and the daylight soon fades. The once cheerful home, turn out dingy and dejected. Tears spew down your cheeks to your chin as you examine one single paper lay before your eyes. The saying above appear clear "Divorce Paper" with your signature on the very right and below.

"So, this is it?" You sneer, teeth grinding against each other "Don't 'so, this is it' me right now, you know well none of this would've have to happen if you could be a bit more considerate." He did not say a word, look down on the floor as if it could've been the most entertaining object in the world.

"I'm busy, there's too much works I need to tend-"

"You said that last week, and the other month and even months before that! How come you're always busy with your job that you can't loiter around with me even for a minute. You left at early mornings, before the sun pops out, you're gone, out of sight and when you came back, you're tired, hot and needed rest. I'm sick of it, Manjiro. I can't do this anymore, ...so yeah, this is it."

He didn't notice the luggage you had beside you until you pull it forward "I'll have my lawyer pick the paper tomorrow morning. Please have is sign by then." A last drop of tear fall cascade down your cheek, like a stray until you wipe it off.

"Goodbye, Manjiro."

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈: cheated on you.

He said- No, he promised the last will be the last time. The last time you had to pick up the last shattering pieces of your dignity. The last time you had to faced the brutally honest reality of your marriage. He promised...

And yet, he broke it again. Today is supposed to be a good day. A happy day as it's a 'happy' birthday for a reason, right? But no, the happy day turned out to be your most saddening, fucked up moment in life. You left home to pick up a dress you custom made for yourself, to go buy your favorite cake at your favorite cafe. You didn't expect to come home, seeing him with your maid on the bed. She was half-naked, bra straps off her shoulder and his clothes thrash on the side.

It's a mess. The splat noise of the cake make a noisy sound and both of their ears perked up "Thought both of you had gone deaf that you both didn't hear me knock for five fucking minutes!" She frantically hid herself beside the bed, where you can't see her but you practically lunge at her, ripping strands after strands of her fake blonde hair "You fucking bitch. I picked you up at the gutter and this is how you fucking repayed me?!" Hanma tries to block into your attack but you punches him making him stumbled.

"And you, rot in hell with your fucking promises! I trusted you, not once, not twice but fucking three times!" He hold you by your shoulder but you slap his face away.

"Dont touch me! Don't you fucking dare..." Your punches ended weak and helpless. Tears pool beneath your eyes but no, they're not sad tears. It's resent, anger and betrayed tears.

"I'll file a divorce, fuck you and that bitch." You push him off, slapping him on the face one last time. The stone on the ring slash through his cheek and he bleed slightly "I'l fucking take half of your fortune, lustful bitch."

You turn to the woman "And you..." You peel the ring off of your ring finger aggressively and throw it to her chest "Keep that shit. I'm outta here." Hanma didn't try to say anything, just mumbling an apology before you walk out that door.

You turn back and look at him, he didn't look remorseful - he did, but it could never be enough to make you crawl to him once more "Shove your apology up your ass, Hanma."

𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐈: can't move on from his past.

At first, it was okay. You can even claim it to be perfect. But that was at first, soon everything gradually becoming worse. He started to get busy with works or as he claimed it. He told you he won't be coming home at a day but sometimes, he remained unresponsive for days. You don't know where he go until you heard from his close friend, Inupi that Kokonoi had been sleeping over at his house.

That means he was not so busy after all. You confronted him about it and as you thought he'll get angry, he remained calm and apologised. He just said that he wanted some time for himself. Of course, that's foreign coming from him as he's always been the type to want to stay close to you.

He still bought you monthly gifts just as he promised he would when you both first got married but they are just not the same anymore. He started giving you tulips when your favorite flower is gerberas. He started giving you white flavored chocolate, and that's weird. You always like the original flavor with nuts in it. Kokonoi just started making unusual mistakes.

Then, one day, he did it. The mistake he can't never undo. You both had Inupi over to your house because Kokonoi wanted to discuss something with him regarding business and when he left for the bathroom, Inupi unlock his phone revealing whom seem like a teenage girl with a peach blonde hair like Inupi and she's holding a bouquet of pink tulips "Sei, who's this?"

He turn to look at you, wondering who you were asking about "...Oh, this is Akane. My older sister. She passed away when she was 16." You nod your head, sadden to hear that.

"I'm sorry for your loss." You look at Inupi then to the ground "But, can't I know if she had any sort of relation with Kokonoi before I met him?" Inupi is confused as to why you'd ask that but he nodded his head.

"Koko used to like my sister."

And he came into the living room. You turn to look at him, almost livid "Is that so..." Both Kokonoi and Inupi look at you, confused.

"What is it?"

"Can't you move on?" Your question caught both of them by surprise, especially Kokonoi "You've been buying me stuff recently but they're never what I like. You got me pink tulips, cute hairbands and books when you should know damn well I like none of those."

"Did you think of her when you got me all of those? Or was it Sei's sister you're trying to give that gifts to?" He tried to explain himself but you kept cutting him, not wanting to hear none of his excuses.

"Please, just listen Akane!" The silence defeaned and the occasional sound of the wind whisper in the background as it soon faded. You look at him, wide eyes "Wow. You are incredible, Hajime. So. Fucking. Incredible." You tried to walk past him but he kept you back, trying his best to talk it out.

Inupi just sat there, dumbfounded. He only back in his trance when he heard a crash and the vase on the table smash to the ground with puddle of water and the pink tulips scatter on the wet carpet.

You stare down at the tulips, scoffing to yourself "This is enough. I'm not nobody's rebound, I have respect for myself... I can't do this, I won't." You push him off and tread to your bedroom, slamming the door shut leaving Kokonoi alone in the living room as Inupi too, got up and left, disappointed by his friend's behavior.

𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈: constant jealousy and overprotective.

You know what you put yourself into when you started dating the Ran Haitani. Ran can be obsessive with you, overly jealous with whom you befriends with, and got really protective over it. But you'd never imagine even in your wildest dream would he start to oppressed your freedom away from you - objecting your idea to meet anyone other than him, that includes your family members as well.

You put up with it, begrudgingly until today, it's an important date for you to attend and besides, it's been a while since you meet your family members so you went ahead, not bothering to tell him because you know well he will say no, no matter how hard you. You are having a great time with your family, chatting together after a while and leaving Ran texts from time to time but you certainly did not expect him to burst his way inside the venue, all rigid and mad.

How rude of him. He pull your hand and immediately get you out of there "Ran, stop. Ran, stop it!" You smack his back and he halt in his steps. He look back at you, glaring down at you with his jaw clenched.

"Just what the hell are you doing, Y/n? Going out behind my back like this and for what? To flirt and whoring around─" Smack, blood trickles from the corner of his lips when you slapped him across the face.

"You had no respect for my family, and for me, Ran Haitani. You failed us." He tried to put his hands around you shoulder but you pry his hands away "Don't. I put up with your ridiculous acts for years. I obeyed like a goddamn dog for you to disrespect me like this? You are fucking insane, Ran..."

"Love, I just don't want you to mixed along with that kind of people─"

"What kind of people, Ran? They're my family. I may have not like most of them but they're my family and the least you should do is respect them as I do. You barged in, acting like you're the main event, embarrassing me, and disrespected them. You may think you're above others but you're not. My family, we may not be as rich and lavish as you - if we're talking about lifestyle, we're alien to each other but I always expect you to be kind, Ran Haitani."

"You can't go around acting like the world revolve around you. I can't, and I'm sorry for that." You look up at him with pitiful eyes "I'm going now, good bye." You turn around and enters the same room he barged into a couple of minutes ago.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open ✦ all rights reserved goes to @mchlgayser on tumblr.

[zyonsay]

Een Nacht JOOST KLEIN

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: An unplanned encounter led to a fun adventure.

Reader: Male, Tattoed

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes

Now playing: 'One of the girls' by The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp & JENNIE from BLACKPINK

AN: Hello everyone <3 i've been gone for a while and i still dont have much time to write, but i got overcome by my joost klein obsession.. again. I hope y'all enjoy this. I expected to write like 2k words, it ended up being 4,5k. Take care!

#Justice for Joost

...7 Missed Calls from ‘Millie’

Your best friend and roommate had left you hanging for a one-night stand, to put it shortly.

Tonight was Joost Klein’s concert in your area and you had bought these tickets ages ago. Both you and your roomie were huge fans of his music and planned on having the most amazing time ever. That was until she texted you, a few minutes after the time you had planned to meet at.

‘Hey dude, im soooo sorry, but I just met this really amazing dude at the library and I really wanna take him home ymwim?? I hope you still have an amazing time, byeeee!’

Saying you were angry was a brutal understatement. Absolutely fuming fit better. But nevertheless, you had so much fun at the concert. You didn’t need Millie to have a good time, you hope he at least fucked her well if she’s going to miss a Joost Klein concert for that. But this isn’t about Millie, this is about you jumping around all night and screaming your heart out.

All good things must come to an end and so did the concert. Joost thanked the crowd dearly and seemed really happy with the performance. Now that you had gathered your stuff, you pulled out your phone and prepared to walk to the bus station. Should be a 23-minute walk. An interesting insta reel popped up on your phone, your eyes were practically glued to the screen. That was until you inelegantly collided with someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You had your phone in a death grip, it had almost dropped to the floor. “My bad, I didn’t look where I was going!” Then you were greeted with the sight of a messy bleach blonde head of hair and two bright, blue eyes. This was Joost Klein himself. +A shy smile crept onto your face; you didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, I’d be shocked too if I was standing in front of a celebrity.”, his attitude seemed cocky, but in a playful way. He was beaming, his grin as bright as the moon. Without thinking much, you opened your mouth to speak: “haha, exactly.” The sarcasm was dripping from your voice. “You seem happy, the concert went really well.”, you offered him a genuine smile. “Yes! I loved the crowd.”, his eyes lit up, “the numbers could be better though, at least my manager says so. But that’s just how the art industry is.” He kept rambling to you like he already knew you for ages. “Sorry, you probably don’t care. Oh yeah, and I forgot to ask for your name.” Joost lazily smiled at you. “I’m Y/n. I totally get that thing about the numbers. It’s difficult when you’re doing art as a job.” His gaze softened slightly. “It’s hard bringing in new fans when there are new artists every day. There’s always a younger, more talented artist out there.” His smile turned into a rather sad one, maybe he wasn’t so happy after all? “But I think you got something special going. Something different than those soundcloud rappers, you know?”, you chuckled lightly, “I think your music is true art.” For a moment he seemed to taste your words on his tongue. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while. “You seem like you do art too?”, Joost raised an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. “Yeah, I’m not that relevant though.” An awkward feeling crept over you; you scratched the back of your neck. “Ah, I don’t wanna hear it.” He barely let you finish your sentence. “I bet your really talented. I mean just your vibe right now!” Joost was now standing pretty close to you. He tended to close the distance between him and the person he’s talking to. Personal space is not in his vocabulary.

A quick glance to your phone screen revealed that your bus was about to leave in three minutes. Doesn’t matter, you’re striking up a good conversation with one of your favorite singers right now. “That’s so nice of you. People rumor that you’re kinda rude, but I haven’t seen any of that yet.” The left corner of his lips curled up, that was probably not the first time he heard about that rumor. “That’s because a lot of people who meet me say the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and then get mad when I don’t answer nicely.” He then intently looked at your eyes. “But you haven’t said anything bad yet.” Now he was smiling brightly again. “Hmm, so I gotta try harder to get on your bad side huh?”, he chuckled heartily. “You’re chill. I like you, I don’t get that with most people I meet.” He for sure is a big personality. “Oh my god, you should totally get your nose pierced. Would suit your look!” Admittedly, you have been thinking about getting a septum for a while now. But until shortly ago, you were working an excruciating office job, where piercings, colorful hair, gel nails and tattoos were strictly forbidden. That didn’t stop you from getting inked though. You waited to do your arms until you quit your job, but otherwise your whole body was littered with small and relatively big tattoos.

“I already got a few tattoos though; I worked an office job until recently. Getting a new piercing would’ve been difficult to hide.” Joost curiously eyed you, in search of any tattoos that might be exposed at the moment. “What kind of tattoos do you have then?”, he caught a glimpse of some ink under your shirt. “Loads actually. But my first one was a moth under my chest, I really like that one.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah? Let me see.” You could see right through him but decided to entertain his idea for a minute. Pulling down the hem of your loose button up, whose top few buttons were undone, you revealed a small part of the moth’s wings and head. With a gentle grin you declared that he would have to pay to see more. His smile now turned into a light smirk. “How much would I need to pay to see the rest?” Quickly, you quipped back: “How much does a drink in this town cost?” He now inches slightly away from you, he was all up in your space until now. “A drink, huh?”, he mused, “I’ll buy you the whole damn bottle.”

Joost guided you to one of his favorite bars in the area. His hand was on the small of your back when you two enterer the establishment, which seemed slightly out-of-place for a first meeting. “You know, I’ve never paid so much to see a tattoo before.” He teased while he ordered a bottle of vodka and two glasses. You really hope he wasn’t a creep, cuz this seemed like a red flag. “I must be pretty special then”, you grinned while ogling the clear liquid. The blond was now swirling the vodka in his glass. He chuckled, “Yeah I’d say you’re pretty special.” Then he avoided your gaze. He was wondering how the rest of that tattoo looked like. And maybe it wasn’t the only thing he’d get to see tonight.

The swig you took from your glass made you grimace. Vodka was one of your top alcohols, but you had to be honest with yourself and admit it tastes like hand sanitizer. “Don’t tell me it’s too strong for you.”, he teasingly smiled at you. His blue eyes darted towards your hand, which was resting atop the wooden bar. In a smooth motion, he interlinked his pinky with yours. ‘Drink je moed met alcohol’ or whatever the saying is. Nevertheless, Joost felt more forward now. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled. But the alcohol for sure gave him an extra bravado. He carefully inched closer to you. You could tell he was getting a bit woozy, even if he was lazily smiling at you. “You ok?”, a small chuckle escaped you. He intertwined his hand fully with yours now. The look in his face was soft and affectionate. A bit wobbly, but very sweet. You got a bit closer; the tips of your noses were almost touching. Only a few centimeters apart. Joost kept his eyes fixated on you, his breath hitched. His ice blue eyes seemed to roam you whole face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, the proximity was intoxicating to him. Joost’s eyes fluttered shut and you waited for a few seconds, messing with the dutchman in front of you. His eyes opened again and saw you grinning teasingly at him. “Really? We’re doing this now?” A hint of disappointment flashed across his face for a split second, but soon after mischievousness played in his eyes.

The two of you seemed to be getting along well, chatting and laughing with each other which felt like hours on end. Your knee was now touching Joosts and his hand has landed on your thigh. He slightly squeezed it, trying to give you a signal of what he wanted. “What?”, you grinned knowingly. The blond playfully huffed but the smile on his face remained. “You know what.” He tried to play it cool, but the intent look in your dark eyes made his adrenaline levels shoot through the roof. Sneakily, you slid a hand behind Joost’s neck. “I’m usually not into blondes.” With that you caught his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. The man practically melted into your touch, he held onto your shoulder as if he’d fall off the barstool if he didn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or the massive interest he had for you, but Joost was kissing you fervently. A desperate noise escaped him. One of your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. As you parted lips, Joost tried to calm his erratic heart. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. His cologne smelled amazing, even after messing around on stage the whole evening. The huffs of your hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He gently kissed your neck, you gasped and flushed ever so slightly. The bastard even slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your lower back. You let the hand on his chest wander a bit, earning a content gasp. “I’m loving this, but can we go somewhere more… private?” Joost let out a small laugh. “Yeah of course! My place or yours?”, he grinned at you. “My roommate is probably getting laid right now, so could we go to your place?”, he nodded with a sweet, drunken smile. “I’d love to take you to mine. It’s just a few minutes away from here actually.”

Either he was very bad at math, drunk or both at the same time. The apartment building was at least a 18-minute walk outside the city center. The breeze messing with your hair was fresh, a shiver ran down your spine. Joost risked a glance over at you from time to time, his stomach was churning with an excited flutter. Even though your gaze was directed straight ahead, you noticed the blond eyeing you. The faintest shade of rose feathered your cheeks, you bit the inside of your lip from nervousness. That didn’t go unnoticed, as Joost laughed brightly while pulling you into a side hug, still keeping up the pace. “You’re so flustered.”, he chuckled. Playfully, you slapped his arm. “Quit it.”, his smile widened and for a moment it seemed as if the sun was shining. “Try and make me.”, now his expression turned devious. “I’ll make you regret being this cocky.”, a pleased smile spread across your face. He wanted to provoke you a tiny bit more. “I’d love to see you try.” He brought you both to a halt in front of a building and opened the door. Joost looked at you and brought a hand to the small of your back. “Let’s get inside.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up the staircase to the door of his apartment. His hands were slightly shaky from anticipation and the keys in his hand rattled and clinked.

After a few seconds he had finally unlocked the door and led you in, he didn’t bother to flick the light on. You turned around, faced with Joost’s back, a click indicated that he had closed the door. You slide your arms around his torso and press up against him. His breath hitched as you began trailing sweet kisses down his jaw and neck. Joost, now reddened and smiling lazily, turned around and slid his hands down to hold your hips. His scent was fogging up your mind, and you couldn’t help but be excited. Once again, you pecked his neck, occasionally nipping at the skin. To give you more room, he tilted his head ever so slightly. A content huff escaped him as you bit down harder, now having found his sweet spot. “Not so cocky now, huh?”, you chuckled before continuing your shenanigans. Joost let his head rest against the wall behind him and let out a small needy sound. He placed a hand on your shoulder, to steady himself. His breath was rugged, and his skin felt as if it was on fire. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”, he whispered before letting his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder. When releasing your hold on him, you were greeted by two dilated eyes. “Let me be good to you.”, his voice was breathy, and his hair was messed up. “Let me take charge for a bit.”, he pressed the sweetest kiss to your lips. You quietly hummed as he began nipping at your neck, but before you could enjoy it more, he gently pulled you towards, presumably, his bedroom.

He gently pushed you onto his bed, you gladly let yourself fall backwards. “There we go.”, he murmured as he glanced down at you, splayed out. A possessive glint played in his eyes. With a tilt of your head, you invited him. You wouldn’t have to ask him twice, he quickly got on the bed with you. In a swift motion, he straddled you and placed his hand on your chest. You slide your hands up his legs and let them rest on his hips. Joost softly moans into the sweet kiss he embraced you in. He enjoys the heat and friction from his body being pressed down on top of you. His lips taste like cherry bubblegum from the local kiosk, you deepen the kiss as the blond grasps your shoulders. Carefully, you broke the kiss and tugged on his shirt. “Get rid of that. “, you groaned at the hot feeling spreading over your skin. His gaze darkened at the command, and he slowly leaned back. He lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. A cheeky grin was now plastered onto his face, you slid your hands up his body, feeling his abs. “Thank you.”, he laid his hand atop yours, which was still resting on his body. “But you’re pretty hot too.” Now his hands slid under your shirt. “How about you take yours off as well? I need to see more of you.”, a small hum erupted from your throat, and you began peeling your shirt off. “You really wanna see that tattoo, huh?”, he nodded with a small smile. The fabric hiding the big moth was now gone and revealed its true beauty. It was a deaths-head hawkmoth, its wings were detailed and shaded amazingly, he could tell that your tattoo artist was a master of his craft. Joost’s eyes widened for a split second as soon as he saw how many tattoos were littered over your torso. He didn’t expect that many, but oh god they looked good on you. “You have no idea how good you look with all this ink.”, he ran a hand down your arm, feeling its muscles and gently rubbing the skin. “Really?”, you tried smiling innocently, but it came out looking more like a cheeky grin. “Makes me want you so bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weak light of the moon made his blond hair look silvery. You delicately whispered back. “You can have me.”

Now he felt the heat rise inside him. His lips ghosted over yours, meanwhile he was fiddling with the stall of your pants. With a sense of confidence, he bit your lower lip, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that he was in charge now.

Once again, he nipped at your neck, but traveled down to your collarbone, your chest, your stomach and finally to the hem of your pants. Your head was tipped back in pleasure and the occasional groan left you. What you couldn’t see was him smiling up at you, enjoying the view. The soft moonlight painted milky stripes along your muscles. Joost planted a kiss on your hip before leaving bites around the waistband of your pants. He had already opened the button and zipper of your garment and now he pulled them off, tossing them aside. With the gentlest hands he caressed your thigh. A gaze to your thigh revealed even more tattoos, an elegant snake was swirled around your leg, entangled with the leaves of an olive tree. The dutch grinned slightly, then began leaving kisses and sweet bites over your thighs, he was burning up now. His hand slid upward on your thigh, though this time he was messing with the fabric of your briefs. He only chuckled lightly, before biting down harder. A soft whine escaped you, while he slowly pulled your boxers off. Then he sat back, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t tease, I’ll make you regret it.”, your threat sounded more playful than anything. He offered you a small, challenging grin as his fingers slid back up to your hips, where he let them rest. “Yeah exactly, what are you gonna do?” You groaned. “Keep going if you wanna find out.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses over your inner thigh, his hands roamed over your body, slowly making their way towards your crotch. Brushing over the tip of your length, he hummed in contentment. Your eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, licked his lips, then wrapped his fingers around your length. His soft hands felt like heaven to you, his motions steady and gentle. Occasionally +he teased your tip with his thumb, enjoying your expressions. “Bet you rail some guy after all your concerts.”, a teasing smile appeared on your lips. “You’d be correct to think so, yeah.”, he hummed with a sly grin. He stroked you at a slow but firm pace. “Are you trying to rile me up with that?”, he then mused a chuckle. Despite your currently… pathetic state, you mustered to spit out: “I’d never. Just making sure you’ll remember me very time from now on.” He sped up a little. “Oh trust me, I’ won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” Leaning in, he took the tip into his mouth. “Fu-uck”, you stammered. The warm, wet feeling of his mouth could’ve made you cum right then and there. One of your hands reached down to entangle itself into Joost’s blond strands. The mans breath hitched as he felt your hand in his hair, it sent tingles down his spine. He swirled his tongue around your tip, sucking gently while looking up at you. His hands held your hips firmly in place. “Didn’t know your mouth was good at anything other than singing.” Joost’s eyes crinkled at your comment. With a quiet ‘plop’ sound, he released your member. “I can promise you, it’s good at other things.” He muttered before tending to your length again, this time maintaining eye contact with you. The sight alone almost tipped you over the edge, his icy blue eyes were glossy, and his blond lashes framed them perfectly. Joost’s eyes flickered down, he noticed how you started to twitch lightly. He took you in deeper, focusing on the sensation in his mouth. The way his tongue swirled on the underside of your shaft made your vision go blurry, you felt a feeling tightening and coiling in your stomach. “I’m so close.”, you whispered desperately. Little did you know that he had other plans. Once again, he removed himself from your pulsing member, a string of saliva connecting to his lip. You ran a hand trough your hair, while your chest was sinking and rising with heavy breaths. Joost backed up slightly, removing any remaining clothes, then focusing on your figure again. He gently straddled you, his own length rubbing against yours, not without a sharp hiss from you though. “Hop on, let me treat you right.”, your muscles tensed from anticipation. A low groan escaped the blond, he nodded quickly before sitting up. With utmost care, he positioned himself and slowly sat down as he felt you push inside of him. He gasped at the overwhelming feeling, and you rested your head against the pillows, it was too much and not enough at the same time. Gently, he started slowly rocking his hips against yours, he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his soft moans. Feeling a bit revengeful, you bucked upwards, earning a loud gasp from the other man. A loud moan escaped him, and his body shuddered and tingled, he slightly sped up his rocking. Your warm hands trailed up to his hips, helping him steady his movement. Empty threats were never something you made, so you decided to go all out. In a swift motion you had basically thrown Joost off and positioned yourself over him, prodding at his entrance with your dick. He groaned and gasped at the sudden manhandling; a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. “That’s for teasing me.” He wrapped his legs around your waist, while letting out a breathless moan.  Without much care, you pushed into him, setting a relatively fast pace. The dutch groaned at the rough treatment and you felt him dig his nails into your back and leave long scratches along it. “You’re so g-ood.”, his voice broke slightly, he was panting heavily. “I said I’d make you remember me.” Even in this pathetic state, he chuckled.

With his arms slung around your shoulder, he cried out in pleasure, small pearly tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I will.”, his eyes were glossy. Once again, he bit down on your neck, leaving yet another dark hickey. Bitten off moans slipped out of him; he was pretty sure both of your hips would be bruised after this night. The room was filled with breathy moans and gasps, along with the constant sound of skin slapping against skin. Joost was completely lost in the moment, he loved how you took control. “See who’s not being so cocky anymore?”, you teased. “Shush.” His head lolled back in pleasure. You snuck a hand around his throat, threatingly gripping it with very little pressure. “You’re not the one giving orders.” A shiver of excitement ran trough Joost’s veins, he ever so slightly arched his back, pressing his body closer to yours. “Now shut up and take it.”, your hips snapped against Joost’s, and his groans became even weaker. The pleasure was building up in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. His vision went blurry, and his body tensed up, his nails dug deep into your skin, leaving bloody scratched all over your back. “Fuuuuuuck”, he moaned against your collarbone. Warm, milky white cum shot out of his length, all over his stomach and chest, you yourself quickly pulled out and dropped the load on top of his. “Messy Boy.”, you whispered.

He laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily and feeling utterly spent. You grabbed a random t shirt on the bed and wiped him clean. With a good wash it’ll be as good as new, you thought. Gentle to not disturb him too much, you laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He let out a small huff, then wrapped his arms around you. “I’m going to feel this all day tomorrow…”, he mumbled. “Then I did it right.”, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warm breath trickling down your face and neck. Joost hadn’t seen the tattoo on your back before but was admiring it now. It was another snake, wrapping around a big dagger with various decorations on it. He ran a hand over it, feeling the skin he had scratched open around it. “So, you like it een beetje ruw?”, he whispered. “Ja but I can be sweet too.” Joost chuckled. You looked up again, enveloping him in a genuine, gentle kiss. Brushing a stray hair away, you caressed his cheek. The blond hummed lightly, his heart fluttering at the tender kiss. His lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Just for some people though.”, you grinned cheekily.

After having thrown on your briefs, you had retrieved your pants and began rummaging the pockets. “Can we go out to the balcony? I’d like to have a smoke.” Joost raised an eyebrow while his smile revealed his dimples. “Cigs after a good lay, huh?”, he began to fumble around in his bedside drawer, trying to find his own pack. “They’re on me, owe you after that.”, you giggled. Joost opened the slide door and led you outside. The atmosphere was calm, the two of you sat down on the floor. You held out your pack to the man, before taking a cigarette for yourself. He put it between his lips, waiting for you to light it. His eyes watched your face closely. After having his cigarette lit, Joost leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the fresh breeze. You looked over the city while the smoke mingled as they both exhaled. Joost reached out and tangled his hand with yours. “You’re so pretty.”, you mumbled absently, watching a few blonde hairs follow the flow of the wind, his hair was all messed up, but he looked perfect. The tips of his hair looked almost white in the moonlight. “I’m usually not into blondes.”, you ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”, he cried out, but he quickly reached for your hair in an attempt at revenge. You gladly lowered your head, letting him do whatever he wants. Instead of messing up your whole hair, like you though he would, he gently combed trough it with his fingers. It felt soothing, you leaned into his touch and ended up flopping your upper body down into his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Comfy?”

A pleased hum escaped you, moments like these should last forever.

[inspector-m3]

Thomas shelby x male reader drabble thingy idk

I've started watching peaky blinders and Im ill which made me think of this and it wont go away so now it's everyone else's problem too.

I've only watched one season so far so might bot be accurate to his character but im trying ;-;

warnings?: mentions of war, scars (not SH), possible PTSD stuff?? violence, alcohol, swearing...im really bad at warnings but i think that's everything unless you need a warning for the french too (jk)

Thinking about Thomas Shelby who owes you a favour. You own your own little group of miscreants but you dont deal with guns or betting, you grew a hate for guns after the war and made a rule to anyone who entered your pub that no guns were allowed. And you didn't do betting because there was too mich competition and dick measuring going on.

What you did deal in and make a living off of, was information, connections, you knew how to get things and what people had done behind closed doors, you were the eyes and ears in the walls. So of course Thomas had come to you for information, but he knew you wouldn't give it for free which is why he offered you a favour.

"anythin you want...any time, just for the information on the blokes I wrote down on that paper"

He says to you, and you take the offer, having the favour of a peaky blinder was valuable.

But what you weren't prepared for was how you'd use this favour.

It's late at night, your group had gotten into some trouble, a fight with another group that you'd prodded the bear with too much. You loose a few of your men, and that bothered you but what shook you the most out of your calm composure was the use of guns in that fight, the ringing was still in your ears as you stood outside Thomas Shelby's door.

When he opens the door you dont even greet him, just blurt out.

"im cashing in that favour. "

To which he raises an eyebrow but lets you in anyways, waiting silently as he tries to neaten his hair, messed up by a rough sleepless night.

"fuck......can i stay?...just for the night?"

You quickly realise how that sounds and sigh before trying to fix it.

"shit, not like that...i just...i just need to hear a heartbeat that isn't my own"

And somehow you got the great Thomas Shelby to agree on your favour, he convinces himself that it's just a favour, that it doesn't mean anything. But the fact you came to him instead of anyone else almost warmed his cold heart. He knew how it felt when the war wouldn't leave, when it made a home in your head and buried itself deep into your bones so that when they creak all you remember are the cries of your comrades.

So there you are, settled on his bed with your head on his chest, listening to the soft thuds of his heart. Your arms are tucked closely to yourself, trying to have the only contact being your head on his chest because this was humiliating enough as it was.

Your eyes close as you focus on the sound of his heart, it drowns out the sound of guns from both today's fight and the war, the sound of your own heart beating too fast because your body seems to still think there's a frenchman nearby and waiting with another gun.

You don't even realise you fell asleep until you wake up to the unfortunate reality that people tend to move in their sleep, finding your arms entwined around Thomas, your legs tangled with his.

Thomas himself was just as surprised when he hadn't heard any shovels that night and then awoke to see his hand ever so gently cradling your head to his chest, almost as a reflex he brushes his thumb across your shortly cropped hair. His eyes trail down, only now noticing the scars from war across your back and arms, he almost touched them and would've if he didn't know that it would probably wake you up.

You both untangled yourselves and lay apart and in silence when you were more awake.

"....this never happened."

You both agree in silence, knowing what would happen if anyone found out as well as the risk of getting attached which was never even thought about by either of you.

It was never spoken of again, both of you going back to just business, you almost forgot about it too.

Until you were sat in your pub, drinking peacefully with the chatter of the men, only to be disturbed when Thomas Shelby walks in, looking more unnaproachable than usual, he makes a beeline for you and murmurs something you weren't expecting.

"i need a heartbeat"

and it clicked, it was like an accidental secret code because no-one else knew what happened that night.

[mandalhoerian]

lamb to the slaughter | leon kennedy x reader

read part 1: moth to a flame pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader summary: ❛ You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince. ❜ It's as easy as that three word sentence for Leon to undo a month of moving on from him right after he comes back from Spain. Easy as surrendering to sleep. Eagerness for his uninhibited love makes you forget he isn't one to open up like that in the first place, you should have known the moment he showed up on your doorstep on his own volition that he wasn't your Leon. He'd only come back to spirit you away. Yet, each man kills the thing he loves, as a famous poet would say. But what about when the beloved lets herself be led to the killing? word count: Almost 25K (im sorry) warnings: DARKFIC, proceed with caution. porn with plot, switch leon, yandere leon (kinda? he's infected/plaga leon), lots of smut (face sitting, dry humping, couch sex, rough sex, mirror watching kinda its a window, chained leon, blowjob, tail riding, kinda bondage with chains, creampies, no protection dont be like this kids), jealousy, angst, things go to shit, abduction, leon infects you, protectiveness, confinement, psychic connection through plagas, corruption, consensual arousal-inducing venom. you got the bad ending. lmao dont look at me. we are not seeing the pearly gates notes: 🐑 i say bad ending for a reason, you can accept this as a sequel to moth to a flame or just ignore it! 🐑 leon's appearance here is inspired by the red eyes mod + the mechanic of his superior species is built on what we saw with krauser and all the plaga leon fanart i've seen. though he only lets his tail out and nothing else. 🐑 the pressure of leon's characterization got too much so i threw it all out of the window. now everyone can be equally upset. thank you for all the love, i hope you enjoy this!

🌀 read on ao3!

Leon comes back from Spain a bit different. 

Different is the specifically chosen word here because you’re not accustomed to seeing him like this. It might be you who’s the problem here, but right off the bat something’s out of place to you.

A pattern has been broken.

No contact with him for nearly a month and he appears on your doorstep one night with a dreamy smile on his face you could only imagine a younger, more carefree version of Leon could afford as if all the weight of this world has been lifted off his shoulders, and as if he isn’t here to pick up whatever he’s left behind after your break-up. 

You’re more flabbergasted than anything. He’s absolutely glowing. Healthy. His black compression shirt leaves little to the imagination underneath that leather jacket, and the tight jeans hug his legs in just the right places, your nose picking up the whiff of some rich cologne that would have you normally salivating over him had it not been for the timing. 

A delivery to home directly from your late night daydreams, tempting as a mirage in the middle of a desert, as he intends to be — you’re acutely aware why in the hell he’s dolled himself up at night knowing you’d be either reviewing some documents for work or getting ready for bed, all in your humble, homely peasant outfit. 

It doesn’t feel good knowing what might be the reason. Feels even worse sensing something’s up. 

The thing is… When Leon decides he’s done with ghosting you after the eventful business trips that have him dropping off the face of the earth, it’s almost always in bad shape. It’s rare that he breaks a bone or two, but purple, yellow and green are his colors, along with the sunken, red, and sleep-deprived, exhausted eyes. He comes back to you like a cat seeking refuge from the storm outside, for a safe place to get some rest where he can switch off the survival mode. And you’ve learned to prepare for these rainy days he tends to make his return on. 

This man standing in front of you with take-out dangling from his hand, relaxed and confident with light in his brilliant blues, perfectly silky hair, and a well-rested, handsome face that lacks all the gloom? You almost don’t recognize him. His soft and exuberant voice as he greets you, “Hey,” might as well belong to a stranger. “I look that bad? Haven’t seen you make that face in a while.”

“No,” you refuse automatically, squinting your eyes and trying to wipe the sleep off via rubbing, shaking the initial shock and the whiplash off, your hand tightens on the side of the door. The more entertaining quips have escaped you, such as: ‘More like, haven’t seen you in a while, and that, second.’ But of course your woozy first instinct is to relieve him, and rooting for how Leon can’t look bad even on the worst of days, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it? “Sorry, I’m a bit loopy.”

“Ah, shit.” He raises his wrist and shakes it so the sleeve of his jacket would pull back to reveal his watch. “I didn’t realize it was this late. God I am so sorry—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“I bring offerings for your time, if it’s any consolation.” He looks hopeful. God, when has he last been this youthful? It’s blinding. “Have dinner with me?”

You would have jumped at the offer one month ago and done your best to keep him around as long as possible, especially when he’s the best you’ve seen him in a long while — but he’s supposed to be a stranger to you now, an ex. You have tried to move on already, it’s such a betrayal to your overworked heart that the desire to bask in his presence is still strong as ever. 

“Hey, um.” Ever so slightly hiding behind the frame of the door, you watch as his face falls, your hesitance telling everything you can’t put into words out loud. “It’s too late for dinner.”

It comes out weird from your mouth, maybe you should have worded it differently — it feels like it’s not dinner you’re talking about, and him staring with a wrinkled line between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to control his countenance isn’t helping. 

“Should seriously focus on trying to break old habits,” he chuckles hesitantly, a voice crack towards the end of the sentence, and you have to break eye contact. “I forget my normal isn’t normal sometimes. I’m sorry.” 

You fold. 

Not because it’s what you always do, but to get whatever he wants out of the way and get him out of your life as abruptly as he decided to randomly come back today. You want this to be over already. “I’m making an exception for tonight, okay? You can’t come here like this anymore, Leon. Please understand.”

Leon's hopeful expectation slowly fades, replaced by a disappointed understanding. His eyes, once filled with a vibrant light, now dim slightly, and the confident aura that surrounded him wavers for a moment. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, before nodding slowly.

"I see," he says, carrying a tinge of sadness, you kick yourself inwardly for wanting to reach out and comfort him. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just... I wanted to see you again… To—to explain, I mean."

His words catch your attention, curiosity sparking a small candle light within you. Despite the whirlwind of emotions and confusion, you find yourself opening the door wider, gesturing for him to step inside.The way he visibly relaxes, shoulders deflating and the flash of an involuntary relieved, tiny smile on his face before he follows you inside makes your chest contract in endearment. 

This is a grown man you decided to let go. This grown man walked out on you. This grown man made you lose years of your life. This grown man doesn’t need your protection, you shouldn’t want to hide him in your ribcage, you’d be taking in a fish instead of a bird. 

The aroma of the take-out food fills the room, teasing your senses and reminding you of all the shared meals and late-night conversations you used to have. Memories flood your mind, threatening to break down the walls you had carefully built to protect yourself.

God, it hurts. He brought your favorite that he doesn’t like all that much. 

You go ahead and settle at the dining table, the take-out boxes placed between you and where he usually sits — where he used to sit whenever he came over, your base instinct embarrasses you. And as you open the containers, you look back to see what’s taking him so long or if he’s left to wash his hands, and notice that he’s just standing there in the hall, engulfed by the shadows, looking alert in the direction of the living room. You can’t see his face. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask, weirded out by how tense he is suddenly. 

He turns to you, and the kitchen light reflects strongly in contrast from his eyes precisely because he stands in the dark, like some cat. “It… smells.”

“What?” You walk over to him, mortified, trying to pick up what he’s talking about. “Is it the floor cleaner? I changed it to lavender recently. What, you don’t like it?”

“No, you… You—” He takes a few slow steps away from you as if you said something hurtful to him, awe and betrayal taking over his features. 

“Leon,” you try to reach out, confused. 

He’s looking you up and down, the weird shock he went through transitioning into perturbance. “Who is it?”

“What are you talking about—?”

“There is someone else?” He points towards the living with his chin, a look of devastation twisting his forlorn features, arms basically flattened to his side. “You brought them here and— and—”

An icy wave of chills wash over your body. “How do you know that?”

“Because it smells.” He brings a hand up and puts it on his middle as if it’s hurting, alternating between rubbing his nose and down to his chest again, like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. “Shit.”

Leon's reaction takes you aback, his sudden accusations leaving you bewildered. This is the most ridiculous thing you ever heard, what is he, an animal?  “Smells? You smelled him?”

You can’t fathom how he could have possibly known about someone else in your life, let alone the details of their presence in your home.

He gestures with his hand and slaps it back to his side, pressing his lips into a thin line before speaking. “Wonderful.” 

Never in a million years would you have expected to see Leon get bothered by another person in your life. He just isn’t the type to react, this has happened before because of course you tried him, to see if he’d get jealous the way you did — he didn’t, something about you having the right to be with anyone you want and that he can’t stop you. This was early into your ‘arrangement’ — where the line was blurred between hanging out and sleeping together, and you were naive enough to bring the scattered, floating letters between him and you together to define the word. 

This right here has to be about something else, bitterness maybe, that you could move on from him. It gets you worked up, blood slowly heating up. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. We’re not anything, Leon. Not anymore.”

Leon's gaze hardens, and for a moment, it seems like the fragility of hurt and anger flashes and trickles in. He sharply inhales, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. "I know we're not anything." He flexes his jaw, turning his face to the side in self-inflicted disappointment. "And I’m the reason, that’s on me. But damn, it’s only been a month and I’ve been miserable while you—"

You take a step closer, looking to find the middle ground in all of this. "While I’m just going about my life.” Confusion swirls in your mind as you struggle to comprehend Leon's reaction.You hadn't anticipated such a visceral response from him. You don’t know why the next second you’re trying to smooth things over to spare him, there’s no need. But you still are doing it anyway. “And he and I are friends—"

He tilts his head, something entirely cold and hostile under unreactive stoicism squares his shoulders, it’s that perpetually uninviting face of his that scares everybody off. His nostrils flare, but his voice is low and smooth. “Friends that fuck on the couch?”

“How did you—” It’s the cold chills again. “This is getting weird. How can you know that?”

Leon's eyes narrow, and the tension in the room becomes almost palpable, your nervousness almost makes it like the blue of his irises are brighter. He drops to a low, dangerous tone, but he isn’t doing anything to be threatening, so why?—. “It’s dangerous, you know? Letting unknown guys into your home. Who knows what they have in mind? What they want to do to you?”

“Sex, Leon,” you bite back, a bull to red into your apprehension, thinking why in the hell should you be intimidated when he’s being the weird one, you still have to hear about how he knows about your relations. “We had sex. Don’t be dramatic.” 

He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, and suddenly it’s making sense why you felt like something was wrong when you opened the door to him. Maybe he’s drunk on something different today and it’s influencing him. Different liquors have different attitudes. 

“I, on the other hand, have to still hear about how you know. Have you been spying on me?”

“I apparently should have.” 

“Excuse me?” You shake your head, trying to rationalize the situation where he is practically lacking, lost in his own head, his usual personality is currently unavailable to the call for reasons unbeknownst to you. He is a calm guy. Reasonable. You don’t get where this immaturity is coming from, anger-related or not. “Leon, you can’t just go ahead and talk lightly of invading my privacy! I don’t want to joke around right now!”

You should send him away to talk later, or both of your hearts are going to break ugly tonight.

Leon's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes narrowing with a mix of concealed pain and anger. "No, I wasn't spying on you," he retorts sharply, giving you the information you want to know. "But it's hard to miss when the person you care about moves on so quickly."

So he must have seen something? He came back from Spain earlier than you thought? Was this visit about interrogating you all along? 

You hate the way your hands warm up immediately with his admittance to caring about you, even though he will never outright say that he likes you or anything more. It’s unbelievable that’s what your heart decided to pick up on instead of literally anything else right now. 

The hall feels suffocating. It's as if the air itself has turned tar-thick. You take a step back, and escape into the kitchen, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the rising storm of confusion.

“I thought you wanted this. Why would me moving forward be a problem?”

“Because I can’t.” 

You want to yell at him. Why should that be your problem? He wanted this. You prepared yourself because he was perpetually with a suitcase in his hand, so much so you can’t imagine his visage otherwise.

Be calm about this. You’re a grown adult. 

"I don’t understand.” Hands grabbing at the handles of a chair, you spare a glance at him over your shoulder. "I thought we would give each other space, go our own ways."

A bitter laugh escapes Leon's lips, devoid of any humor. "Space? That's just another word for running away, isn't it? And haven’t you immediately found someone else to run towards? That’s how important I was to you, huh?"

The accusation stings, and you struggle to find the right words to defend yourself, his honesty coercing the affection out of you within the ice of self-preservation. "Leon, it's not like that. I’m trying to navigate my life, this isn’t me trying to get back at you or hurt you."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration carved into every line of his face. "Well, congratulations. You succeeded anyway."

This is getting ridiculous. You don’t know how to handle the situation because he never put you in one like it in the first place. 

How are you the guilty one? How is the blame on you, now? Why? Being with him was slow torture, loving him was a doomed gambit, and now he has the gall to make you into the bad guy — for what, prioritizing yourself for once? 

The silence hangs heavily between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. It feels as though the foundations of your bond are crumbling beneath the weight of unresolved emotions, the connection you once shared now seems fragile, teetering on the edge of irreparable damage that you’re not sure you want to let go even though it really is the best solution to let it be. You remember how you told him that break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, it seems how the afterward would be like hasn’t crossed your mind at all. 

“Ironic of you to say that,” you mumble, turning away from him with a disbelieving smile, hands on your hips. 

“What?”

“I said,” you turn around, cold anger freezing your features in a silent mask. “That’s rich coming from you. Running away, I mean. All this time I’ve known you, you’ve run away from me—” With each example you give, you take one slow step towards him. “From intimacy, from a deeper connection. I know you couldn’t help but be away for your job and that’s not the issue here.” You stop right in front of him, seething, looking up, doing your best to keep your shit together as you shake a finger at him. “But you don’t have the right to accuse me of running away.” 

He just stands there like a statue. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away. As if this means nothing at all to him, forever the unaffected, desensitized man that he is. You have to flatten your lips to keep them from quivering.

“I’ve had to chase you like some race horse while you were sitting right next to me,” you jab that finger into his chest, not to get something out of him, but because the floodgates were finally open. “I have betted on losing dogs this entire relationship.” Another jab. “I let you treat me like a doormat.” Jab. “I gave you the patience and understanding some mothers wouldn’t give to their children—” And it finally ends with a slap with the back of your hand on his wall of a chest. “Because god smite me I made the mistake of falling in love—” A fucking joyful, pretty sparkle in his eyes that has his eyebrows lifting. It bloods your boil like nothing else. “—-and all of this for you to come into my home and pick a fight over who I fuck after breaking up with me?” You push him — or, rather, try to push him further back into the hall, and when it doesn’t work, raise your arm to point to the door. “Get out.”

Leon's jaw tightens as he stares at you and you see it jump, his gaze piercing through you, ablaze. He tries to grab you by the elbows but you shake him off. “Sweet girl, I—”

The nickname has you on the edge of crumbling and you ricochet back as if burned. “No, nuh-uh,” you rapidly shake your head and one hand at him, eyes burning, deliberately looking at his shoulder not to make eye contact. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. No. Just go. Get out of my house.”

The room plummets into an agonizing quietness filled by the heavy breathing you’re doing your best to stop from shaking as Leon stands there, his hand still lingering, frozen in a futile attempt to reach out to you standing in the light of the kitchen, and him in the shadows. The absoluteness of your words is the hammer of a judge about to fall on his head, sharpened by your anger and the shattered remnants of your flightless hopes. 

You never wanted this. It had ended so peacefully, why was he back as a vengeful ghost bringing the worst out of you — why now? Why?

Finally, Leon lowers his hand, his gaze falling to the floor. There's a momentary lowering of his guard that flickers across his face, a crack in the armor he usually wears. "I know I messed up, and I've been running away. But it's not because I don't care, it's because... I'm — I couldn’t give you anything. Not anything you deserved. Not everything I wanted. And I couldn’t face any of that without having to confront I needed to get out of your life," he says softly, caked with remorse and self-hatred. “Like being somewhere between life and death, I didn’t know what to do, how to move forward.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your anger momentarily waver, you’ve seen the pain in his eyes before, the demons that haunt him from his past — you understand, you understand. In every reality possible, you’d understand, even when you don’t know. “I know, Leon.” The acknowledgment leaves you pained, but this time, don’t give anything in consolation, don’t justify the harmful outcomes of his escapism just so he wouldn’t be scared and pull himself back. Yes, you know. But that’s it. It has to be enough.  

“I want you to also know — I’m not that man anymore.” He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively, but you flinch away, unwilling to let him touch you, and he stands right at the threshold of shadows bleeding away into the light streaming from the room behind you. 

"Are you seriously about to tell me you changed, Leon? Really? No, I know you," you assert, your voice tinged with skepticism and a lick of frustration. Folding your arms across your chest, you wait for his response, your gaze fixed on him, brows furrowing but a slight smile souring your lips. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me, what could have possibly happened in such a short amount of time, because I’m not having it if it’s about us separating—” It’s mean, the way you outright grin at him, one small part of you regrets laughing at his face when he’s declaring he’s changed, but you can’t stop the poison from wanting to sink into his skin, from wanting to see yourself affecting him. “You, my late blooming pupa, had two whole years to break out of your cocoon. Don’t even waste your breath.”

Leon meets you head on, unfazed by your demeanor, it makes you feel like a child when you were in the right, brings sense to you that this was Leon you were trying to hurt, you knew he wouldn’t give you excuses some man after some piece of ass would — the hurt is bringing the girl out of you that wants to maim as she has been maimed, and he just stands there and takes it as if he wants to show you he’s had way worse before. It isn’t fair.

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand unconsciously fidgeting with the edge of his jacket as he prepares to explain, raising his hands up and tracing the invisible line of the veins inside his wrist. His body language conveys a distant sense of sincerity. 

"I received a gift that opened my eyes," he confesses, his voice carrying a brooding, yet grateful significance. His eyes momentarily drift, as if lost in memories of what transpired. His fingers continue to rub along the veins, he’s recalling something, it’s not a self-soothing nervous habit that betrays his inner turmoil.

Your skepticism wavers, switched with a curious glimmer. The lamb sees the slaughterhouse and thinks it’s home again. You unfold your arms, inching closer as you invite him to elaborate. 

"It saved me. Gave me a new life. Changed me.” He pauses, looking far, far away again. “It changed everything," Leon states with a sense of conviction. He stands a little taller, his demeanor transformed by the profound impact of this revelation.

Your eyes flit in rapid blinking, captivated by his warm, honest intensity. A welcoming, pleasant surprise lingers on your face as you take in the magnitude of what he's sharing.

"Changed everything?" you question, holding back your wonder and uncertainty in fear of disappointment. Your body involuntarily leans forward, drawn in by where he’s taking this.

"Yeah. For good this time. Because I’m not… bound anymore, I’m not trapped. For the first time in forever, I know what it’s like to be truly free.” 

“Oh…” You begin to speak, but words escape you. He is uninhibited, truly elated, that soft smile on his face doesn’t carry the anxiety of what comes next. This is a first for Leon Kennedy. When you remember you mocked what might have happened to him, it fills you with shame. So, something truly wonderful did happen — could happen. It has to do with his job, that much you know. No wonder he’s insisting things have changed, what he does for a living is what haunts him like a shadow, after all, you couldn’t be more aware of that. “I’m… I’m happy for you, then, Leon. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not wrong for doubting me. I did.” He looks down at his arms, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I believed I had changed before, you know — had been changed, whatever you wanna call it... Because I had to," Leon admits with introspection. He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his experience. 

"Then someone I know told me no, you haven't, you just think you have. And both of those options are worse than each other in retrospect, don't get me wrong,” his voice cracks slightly, revealing the conflict within him. There's a flicker of nostalgia and longing. 

He takes a steadying breath, his eyes locked onto yours, conveying a yearning for understanding. This is the most open he’s been with you, the most you’ve seen of him, you’re hypnotized.

"I envy who I was in 1998, but I don't want to be him. The me one month ago is superior, but he was miserable and fucking blind," Leon confesses, the air around him somehow gravitating towards him, becoming hard to breathe because of how hard he’s frowning. Self-deprecating. And his eyes are on you again, back to the moment. “You wanna know how I know I’m different now? I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

He steps forward, into the kitchen, into the light, and shadows dance on his face, and you know what this is — the cat has decided he wants pets, seeking to butt his head into you to initiate contact, and you step backward with the sudden panic sinking in your stomach, but he keeps advancing the more you back off. 

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he rasps, and you make a small sound at the back of your throat. “Not afraid of what I want. Not afraid of wanting. Not afraid of what comes next.”

“Leon—” you interrupt, hands shooting forward, hovering just between you two, feeling his body heat, but terrified of touching him in fear of what might ignite inside you if you do. 

But he catches both your hands, intertwining your fingers and pinning them on two sides of you on the counter the moment your hips hit the lip of it, and you’re immediately steaming underneath your skin, shutting your eyes and turning your face away as his body snuggles in, flush against you. 

“It’s pathetic, the person I used to be—” he breathes, a gentle invitation, a subtle beckoning, though his words are harsh, he’s uttering them so sweetly like it’s a love letter to you, and hot wind from his words licks the side of your face, you can feel the feathery touch of his lips moving a hair’s breadth from your cheek. Your heartbeat is hammering. “He would have bitten his tongue and gone right back home to lick his wounds. Never see you again. He would think it’s what’s best for you, that he’s protecting you this way.”

You swallow, and he chases the motion, head following the movement. His nose caresses the column of your neck, the sigh that escapes his lips echoes the hidden depth of his desires, an unspoken language of pining. 

Your breath catches in your throat as Leon's increasing body heat and tantalizing weight knead and melt you like dough, his words moving you from within, his proximity creating a charged volume that crackles with tension and desire you were fighting so hard to deny. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of his presence, his warmth pressing against you, and the raw defenselessness he's revealing. 

You missed this. You missed this. You missed this. 

The blood coursing through your veins sings to him, sings for him, and you’re alive again after one month of absolute emptiness, and hate him for doing this to you.

Love him for coming back. 

His grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the tremor in his touch, mirroring the intensity of his emotions. “Look at me.” 

You know you don’t want to, because if you were to see him right now, what he’s showing, what he’s finally allowing you to see, you wouldn’t know how to look away ever again — don’t want to hurt.

Your own heart races in response, fear and anticipation swirling within you. And he places his knuckles on your chin, gently guiding you to face him, “Don’t look away.”

Your glazed over eyes lock with his in a moment that feels suspended in time.

"Leon..." you murmur with a blend of longing and caution. The weight of unspoken possibilities bursts in color in the air between you, begging for acknowledgment.

He nuzzles closer, his lips grazing your skin with feather-light touches. Your body reacts instinctively, a tremble washing through you as his sigh tickles your neck. It's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the magnetic pull between you, drawing you inexorably closer. It’s sweetness so intense it’s trying to hold back the bitterness, a muzzle on a hungry dog’s jaw. 

His voice, a whisper against your ear, is temptation, a pied piper. "I don't want to make the same mistakes anymore. I can't keep denying what I truly want, what my heart desires. I can’t lose you. I’m not losing you. Not like this. Please."

The admission electrifies the mood. Time stands still as you process everything, mind foggy, your own desires intertwining with his. It's a precarious precipice you find yourselves on, teetering between the past and the mirage of a future, between fear and the possibility of something more.

“That’s awfully self-centered,” you laugh weakly, not knowing if this is you unable to look away from his lips or unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. “What if it’s too late? What if that ship has already sailed?”

He nudges your nose with his, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You don’t want me? Look into my eyes when you tell me, then.”

In that moment, you make a choice. With an upsurge of courage, you do as he asks, searching his need-darkened patience waiting for you, and you let your guard down. Closing the remaining space between, your lips find his in a tender yet fervent kiss, an unspoken consent that verbalizes everything. 

God, you want this man with all your being. One moment of vulnerability, the confirmation you needed for so long from him was enough to melt all your walls down and conquer without war — the things you let him do to you… 

What was tenderness from you ricochets back from him as desperation, he licks into your mouth like a man starved, and a sigh shudders from Leon, you feel it roll through his entire body. He catches your waist in a tight, unyielding grip, his touch conveying a scared need to hold on to you, as if to make sure you're real, and not a fleeting dream. 

“Fuck, I want you so bad. Never wanted more in my goddamn life.” The pent-up tension and unspoken emotions flow between you, igniting a flame that burns brightly, dispelling any doubts or regrets. “Let me have you. Please, let me have you.”

“Give me half of you, and I’ll give you half of me.” His lips, soft and warm, melded with yours in a passionate embrace, separate with a wet pop. “How’s that for a start?”

Leon's lips attempt to dip into yours again, but he wavers to a panting stop, leaving a lingering, ticklish warmth in their wake. His declaration, filled with a mix of intoxication and determination, spills forth. “‘ll give you all of me,” he mutters, his kisses raining down upon your skin in a frenzy of affection. “—Give you all my love. Want all of yours, too.” 

Love. He said love. 

Someone must have hit you over the head, you feel like it, all breath is knocked out of your lungs.

Leon pulls back only inches when he feels you freeze in his arms, and you see it in his eyes — he doesn’t try to hide it… 

And you realize, you’ve seen the ghost of this look before, the shyer one, the more apprehensive, curt one that was prone to hiding away. The pure adoration on his face makes him look younger, like a whole other man. 

Yet, you ask. It’s all you’ve ever wanted from him, only a passing acknowledgement and you’re a sunflower bending over backwards with the first rays of the sun. "You love me?"

Your stomach does a summersault at feeling his heart miss a beat.  "Y... yes?" he stutters, his voice rising. "Yeah."

All that romantic talk. All the insane things he said, and it’s scary to him when the word is spelled out loud. 

The room goes completely noiseless for a moment, your ribcage might as well explode at this point, and then he lets out an audible sigh, trying to calm himself down. "Is that so strange to you?" he adds. "Is that... something you... don't want?"

He knows what you feel. Known it all along, danced around it for both your sakes. Yet, he’s still asking — exposing that defenseless underbelly of his that reveals he thinks he’s unlovable, not worth it, skeptic that someone could want him in that way. 

His eyes stay locked with yours, but some of his confidence seems to have drained away. All that's left is his look of pure, unbridled infatuation, and the expression of genuine, unwavering honesty.

Your mouth seems to have gone dry, heartbeat picking up, stomach swirling, looking at him like he's out of this world, eyes flying everywhere on his face. No words come to mind for a good while. It’s a slow blooming flower at first, but the beaming of your smile takes him aback. “It’s all I wanted,” you practically exhale. 

He makes a small noise of relief and chokes out a smile. 

As your lips mold together again, a new symphony of sensations unfolds. His kiss has the devotion of held-back hunger, lips seeking and exploring every contour of yours, and you surrender completely. To how he desires you, to the intoxicating pull between you, letting your inhibitions fall away. There is only the searing heat of his touch, the intoxicating sweet taste of his mouth, the mint from an already discarded gum and something uniquely Leon, and the synchronization of your combined breaths.

He moves downwards to take nip at the corner of your mouth and then your chin, a soft hum escapes from deep within you, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he makes you feel by the littlest of sensualities.

“Leon…” Your hands find their way to his tousled hair and a waft of his shampoo fills your nose, you pull him closer, yearning for more of him. The room fills with the heady scent of desire, starting to pool deep in your stomach drop by drop.

He bites down on your jaw, knowing just how to make it pleasurable and not hurt, and you gasp out loud. “Sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he chants. His lips find their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing a path of feverish kisses and gentle nips. “My sweet girl.” Each sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you rasping and yearning for more. 

You arch into him. His hands, now guided by a primal instinct, roam freely over your body. They explore every curve and dip, tracing the contours of your silhouette as if committing every inch to memory. Fingers dance along your spine, leaving a trail of delicious shivers in their wake, before finding solace in the small of your back. 

With a firm yet gentle grip, he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on the counter, the cool surface contrasts with the scorching heat that burns even your palms up as he slots between your legs immediately afterwards. 

With a delicate yet possessive grip, his hands glide along your upper thighs, and a needy warmth trickles down to the crevice he grinds his crotch against, the roughness of his jeans delectable against where you need him. 

Your own hands, emboldened, mirror his actions, eagerly exploring the planes of his chest, nails dragging through the fabric. Overwrought fingers interchange between pulling on his leather jacket and the compression shirt that hugs him so tight it won't stretch. “Get this off."

A low growl reverberates deep in Leon's chest as your hands keep hungrily tugging at his clothing, seeking to peel away the layers that separate you. “In the kitchen? That impatient for me?” 

Ah, he’s trying to embarrass you. Not going to work. “Shut up you hypocrite, you made me come on your thigh in broad daylight, in the kitchen.”

“I don’t remember you complaining,” he grins against your lips, and you feel him grow bigger, straining against the cage of his jeans. “God, you were so fucking hot using me like that. Want to see you more — pleasure yourself more — in front of me. I was about to make a mess of my pants like some teenager, just looking at you and,” he rocks both of you upwards as he babbles, and your hands glide down to cradle his flaming neck, your eyes closing, head spinning with his words. “Your pussy on me, shit. I still feel it.”

“Stop running your mouth and get these off then,” you half-heartedly order, not at all an attempt to hide how turned on you are and practically dying to feel him already. 

He opts to tease, “What the lady wants, the lady gets,” like he’s only doing it because you asked him to, but he willingly complies, his movements hinting to be fueled by a shared hunger and a desire to feel your touch against his bare skin.

The leather jacket slides off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest, accentuated by the tight shirt that clings to him. And in one motion, that’s also off, you don’t even get to watch how his muscles ripple and flex, but your hands are on him right after, groaning at just how high his body temperature is, how wildly his heart is beating underneath your palm.

Your mind short-circuits at something foreign wiggling underneath your palms on his chest and not at the way he’s sucking red flowers on the underside of your thrown back chin. 

Your mind can be playing tricks on you, because you swear you can feel something move underneath his skin that’s not tendons, but before you can dwell on it, his lips, now free from their exploration of your neck, capture yours once more in a searing kiss, filled with a soulful need, an unspoken plea for more, as if he wants to consume every ounce of you. 

“Can’t believe kissing alone feels this good,” he says. “I could just do this all day. Have you on my lap, underneath me, above me, and just.” Your lips are teasingly bitten and tugged on. “Have this to myself.”

As his hands continue their tantalizing journey along your thighs, inching higher, you find yourself surrendering to the exquisite sensations. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more friction as the restlessness grows tighter. 

The hardness of his crotch presses against the heat between your legs, creating a delicious ache that demands to be satisfied. He hisses and sighs into your mouth. “Fuck, I can’t wait. Hold on to me.” 

Leon has his arms locked tight around your legs clamped on his legs the next second, and begins to carry you out the kitchen as you hold onto his shoulders, once again in awe of how easy it is for him to manhandle you like this without at least grunting. 

You think he’s taking you to your bedroom and worrying if you left it too messy, but where you find yourself sprawled on your back instead, is the fucking couch in your living. 

The couch your one night stand had his way with you on. 

You sense a subtle shift in the currents of his shadowy gaze bearing down on you, in the flicker of his eyes, in the tightening of his jaw, that you glimpse a revelation you have not anticipated hidden beneath layers of charm and composure, the shifting of tectonic plates beneath calm waters. It’s uncharted territory. A dormant beast awoken from slumber, his demeanor betrays an unfamiliar greedy intensity that enthralls you. Once soft, subtle adoring nature of his, now holds a smidge of territorial longing, as if he yearned to claim you as his own, to wrap you in the cocoon of his desires, the undercurrent untamed, raw, unfamiliar — both to you and him. You’re no stranger to his intensity, his passion, but this is foreign to you. 

With surprised anticipation, you laugh to hide the nervousness. “I didn’t know you could be jealous.”

“I didn’t know I was capable of it either.” His big palm comes down on your stomach, fingers fanned out, and it drifts up as if he’s just taking you in, with some pressure sinking into you, and your shirt rides up because of it, exposing your stomach all the way to the beginnings of your lower ribs. “Of this much need to monopolize.” 

He hooks a strong arm around your waist and tugs you a bit up to meet his descending mouth to your revealed abdomen, leaving wet kisses and kitten bites all over, teasing by faking you out that he’ll go higher to play with your aching breasts, the tip of his nose touching the bottom curve of one and then going lower. Either way, it’s your loss, heat keeps pooling in the ever-so-hungry pit as your panties become uncomfortable already. He knows how to build you up.  “It’s so ugly in my head right now because of this goddamn smell—and all I think is what I’m looking at right now was seen by another man. Wanna fucking tear into you to get rid of it.”

You quip, “Does he smell that bad?” amused, an attempt to distract yourself from how easy he has you, hands finding his hair again and tugging, eliciting muffled groans from Leon, but the promise of roughness thrills you, the shiver going through you perking your nipples up. You honestly didn’t know he had this much of a sensitive nose up until today, goes to show how little of himself he showed you in the past. 

“He reeks.” He drags his blunt nails through the line of your waist soothing it with feathery, tickling, lazy strokes of faint pleasuring zaps as he bucks into your clothed core, drawing hisses and gasps from both of you. The rough zipper line of his jeans accentuated by his hardness hits just the right spot, you could do this forever — gosh, you have a wet spot in your panties, it feels gross but it’s so warm and it’s so good — 

Oh you love the way his eyes darken, the way his voice deepens ever so slightly when things you never thought would come from him in a million years are sent your way, goosebumps awaken all over you at the, god, you can’t believe you’re saying possessiveness. “We could, you know, get it reupholstered. If you’re paying for it—” 

“I have a better idea,” A devilish smirk curls at the corners of Leon's lips as he lifts his head from your abdomen, eyes glinting. His grip on your waist shifts to the waistband of your pants, teasingly tracing the edge. “How about instead I reclaim it so you won’t be able to sit on it ever again without getting so hot and bothered by what I did to you here. Hm?”

His touch sends invigorating currents coursing through your body, pooling desire between your thighs. You arch your back, wordlessly urging him to continue. and he kneads your hips, digging into your flesh with a delicious pressure. “I’ll make my sweet girl so fucked out stupid she forgets any touch that came before me.” He squeezes once and your cunt just throbs. “Only remembers my name.”

Fucking hell. 

"But if it bothers her, I'll consider reupholstering," he continues, a hint of playfulness there. "She’ll just have to pay in other ways."

A mischievous gleam dances in your eyes as you match his playful banter. "Oh, I have a feeling I can think of a few ways to make it worth your while," you purr, your fingers still tangled in his strands, urging him to bring his lips back to yours.

“That right?” Leon's chuckle reverberates through his chest, vibrating against your skin. He leaves a trail of heat and moisture on your stomach as he climbs up, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth with a fervor matched only by his growing desire.

His heat washes over you, and your breath hitches as you struggle to control the rising tide of need, and you can’t stop the small whine from escaping when he tempts. “How would she like it?” with hooded eyes, you see him imagining — thinking, living the filth out in his brain and not hiding it from you at all. The thought of being completely consumed by him, of surrendering to his desires, sends a torrent of suspense coursing through your veins.

With deliberate slowness, his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, grazing over the sensitive skin of your lower abdomen, and you nod fervently, wanting Leon to stop with the leisurely approach and just fucking throw you around or bury his fingers into your pussy already — “Use your words sweet girl.” He chuckles when he sees the delicately restrained agitation of yours, his touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing maddening circles that dangle you over promised pleasure.

His piercing stare ensnares you, a captivating force that renders you powerless. His inquiry lingers, emphasized by his almost restlessly eager fingers massaging your skin, akin to a tantalizing vow of sensual delight. In this very instant, a revelation dawns upon you—Leon's unchained greed does not arise from insecurity alone; rather, they stem from an unquenchable thirst to know you’re his, to conquer every fragment of your being and eliminate any shadow of uncertainty.

In a flurry of emotions, your words spill forth, infused with a potent blend of yearning and submission. “Take me, I want you to take me. Wanna feel only you…” Succumbing to the irresistible yearning surging through your veins, you surrender yourself to the overwhelming craving that courses within you. “Any way you want.”

His jaw falls open slightly in shock, like the shape of language has left him, hold stilling around you in an iron grip — the way his cheekbones get slightly pinked gets you bucking up to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, extending your arms at him like you’re asking for a hug. “Make me forget however you like.”

His chest expands with the big breath he sucks in, a guttural growl escaping his throat, a primal sound that makes him feel almost inhuman with another trick of the light that makes his veins appear darker, dancing, almost, as he pulls you up, leaves you dizzy with how quick he reverses your positions, it’s his back on the plush cushions now, one knee bent a little bit and you on top of him, straddling his lap. He’s looking up at you, and you flash to how you had him exactly that way before he left for Spain.

“Sit on my face.”

You blink a couple times. “What?”

His fingers catch the band of your pants and underwear. “I want you to ride my face.” The small grin that breaks out on his face after licking his lips is downright sinful. “Wanna be fucking suffocated by you.”

“Will you be alright—”

“It’s nothing to me,” The persuasion is nonchalant, like he has experience being waterboarded and it’s something trivial. “I said I’d make you remember me whenever you sit on this couch, didn’t I?” 

His request is bold, ramming the boundaries of your comfort zone, there’s the fear of crushing him and there’s the embarrassment of how he’d receive your weight, yet overcome by the part of you that craves to fulfill his desires, overtaken by how he always wants to give pleasure and not take it. 

You slowly rise from his lap, and he momentarily releases you from his hold. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the waistband of your pants, undoing them and sliding them down your legs, along with your underwear, his dilated pupils are fixated on the silvery thread of your arousal stretching. Your heartbeat quickens, a flush heating your body up at the deep assertion of, “Attagirl. Come here.”

With a deep sigh, you find the courage to surrender to the experience, encouraged by how much he seems to want this. You shift your position, allowing him to steer you to straddle his face, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his head. Your core hovers tantalizingly close to his waiting mouth, aching for the pleasure he promises to deliver. 

Not knowing when his hand sneakily crawled between your legs, you are caught by surprise when he drags a finger through your slit, gathering the moisture and spreading it around. “This all for me?”

“Hmmm,” you confirm, heartbeat shooting straight downwards, pulsing against his finger. “All for you.”

“Don’t be shy, take a seat,” A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, he’s looking drunk already, and you twitch upwards with the way hits your wetness, then, he’s massaging the tension of your thighs holding your body up. “All of your weight, sweet girl. Don’t hold back. Just sit. I promise I’ll make you feel so good, it’ll feel so good, just—” He raises his head to lick an galvanizing stripe right where you want him and you moan, the experience all the more elevated by being able to see how his eyes flutter close as if he’s feeling in and the focused pinch of his eyebrows. 

Trembling legs weakened by his begging, you begin to lower yourself onto him, the searing, wet warmth of his breath against your sensitive, aching folds making you gasp. His hands guide you and you hold onto his bulging biceps, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you find the perfect angle, anchoring you in place. 

“Le – ah! Leo—n!” You can’t even arch off from the couch when his mouth dives into your tender cunt, only able to throw your head back and tremor in place because he has you in an iron grip against him, fingers sinking into the plush of your hips the moment he hears the stutter of your sweet whining. 

He hums, and you feel the vibrations reverberate inside you, mouth hanging open when his tongue delves in, as well. 

“So good — shit…” You fall forward, hands finding purchase on the armrest of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric as his skilled tongue dances against your most sensitive parts, exploring and teasing with an expertise that leaves you respiring, a particularly shocking jolt of ache striking and leaving your vision with dancing stars when he gently nips at your clit with his teeth, your hips spasming, but unable to even squirm in peace because he won’t let you move away from him. “That! That — ah, yes, yes!”

He is just delighted and it shows in his excited panting when it gets you to start rocking your hips in sync with him, and after a while, falling back and letting you take control of the pace. 

He traces delicate patterns against your most intimate parts, setting a pattern and then breaking it, building you up and pulling you back down, teasing and exploring with a fervent hunger. “That’s perfect — yes, Leon, you’re making me feel so good, you’re — hmm! —”

The groaning moan is swallowed by an even prettier whine when you pull on his hair, it wasn’t the intention to get him to do this, you were just particularly feeling good, but you try again, and he shudders this time, a more restrained version of the sound, you swear, literally makes you gush. 

“You sound — you sound so pretty moaning from making me feel good— So pretty—” You can’ complete the sentence as he sucks on your clit, only able to babble. “So pretty, so pretty…!”

You absolutely weren't expecting being accidentally called pretty would be the final straw to start palming himself against his jeans and fucking dry hump his hand, leaving only one hand to hold you down, and he wraps his entire arm around your waist to staple you to his mouth, you feel the veins and the flexing muscles on your skin from how much strength he’s using, and it’s enough to heighten the throb in your cunt.. 

“You’re gonna come in your pants from eating me out?” The bucking of your hips becomes harsher, faster, the coil in your stomach tightening just from seeing his blissful mien and urgency of his hip thrusts, walls contracting around his tongue. “That’s so fucking sexy—”

The pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher, each flick of his tongue sending you higher and higher, his ability to read just when you get close is exquisite, and you enjoy him slowing you down, each flick and swirl of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting you there, his own hand matching that pace and edging himself on, as well. 

The world narrows down to the sensations between your legs, the sound of your own moans building in speed and pitch mingling with his fervency, a blast of heat building deep within you unexpectedly fast, like dropping from the peak of a roller coaster, a wildfire spreading. “So close, so close, so close so closesoclose!”

You cry out his name as your pleasure crescendos, he holds your gaze the entire time through it, an explosion of sensation that engulfs you in waves of ecstasy, your voice mingling with his muffled groans of satisfaction against your sensitive flesh, body oscillating with pleasure, every nerve ending electrified by the intoxicating completion Leon provides — and he laps everything up, 

He does not give you one single break. 

The next second, you’re knocked on your back, and then flipped on your stomach like a ragdoll, and he shoves you up toward the other armrest of the couch until you have to hold onto it and hold yourself up — and you have to, from how much your thighs are trembling. You don’t even have the time to look back after hearing the frantic fumbling of his zipper being pulled down before feeling his rock-hard length gliding through your puffed and abused cunt, and a pained whine shakes your body as you snap your knees shut. “Leon—Leon—I can’t—”

“You can,” he coats himself in your dripping wetness, and you’ve accidentally created more friction for him by snapping your legs together, he’s just dragging himself against you, not entering, but pushing strong enough that it gets you to shake and squirm to get away, but he hooks one arm across your torso and grips your shoulder, pulling you up so your back is flush against his sweaty, burning chest. He extends an arm and places his hand just beside yours for support. “You’re so perfect taking everything I give you. My sweet girl, always so good to me, so gorgeous — just look at you.”

He gently nudges your chin up to get you to look at something, and —

You are looking straight at the reflection of yourself in the window ahead, Leon’s chin on your other shoulder, he is also staring, watching you there — both of you look so fucked out already. 

He seems to be in a more of a drunken daze than you are, his hair is so sexily messed up as if it was deliberately styled, the fact that it was you has you clenching around nothing. You hiss when the head of his cock slips in momentarily, only to slip out as he keeps the motion of sliding back and forth,  teasing, edging, your moans become softer, yelp-ushered, and shorter.  

“Look how pretty you are,” he nips at your earlobe, looking straight into your eyes in the window. You see the raw desire etched across your face, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, and the unbridled lust that courses through your veins — the sight of yourself, lost in the throes of passion, sends a rush of arousal through you. 

He begins to bite and suckle at your neck and shoulder as the edging persists, the tension within you, yet again, beginning to stretch beyond belief without a snap at horizon, your whole body is quivering at how fast it’s coming down on you. 

“I’m gonna— Leo–n, please, please—!”

You’re teetering on the edge of ruin, the need for release becoming all-consuming. You cling to his well-built, thick arm holding you to his chest, seeking an anchor amidst the overwhelming pleasure. A particularly sharp bite at the most meaty part of your shoulder makes you cry out and he begins mumbling in your ear, needy, and keeps up the same pace just for your pleasure even though he sounds so needy. “Come for me, I want it, pretty girl, come on, give it to me—” 

With a final plunge, Leon relinquishes the tease and thrusts deep inside you, filling you completely to the hilt, and your vision goes completely white as pleasure crashes over you in a wave of intensity, your body attempting to thrash around with the force of your orgasm, his chest shudders at your strangled cry. 

He stays buried deep within your convulsing walls and just breathes and softly hisses as you come down from your high, following you as you fall forward to rest your head on your forearms on the armrest. 

He plants kisses on the ball of your shoulder, trailing a line all the way to the other one, and then coming back to your nape. “You okay?”

You whine in response, completely blissed, and feel him jump inside you.

He sighs with force. “Don’t rile me up like that just yet.”

“‘m not doin’ ‘nything…”

“You don’t know what you do to me.” His chest rumbles from how thick and deep his voice lowers, albeit in affection. “You could be watering flowers or something and I’d go out of my mind for you.”

You weakly sputter in laughter, heart expanding nonetheless. “Watering flowers?”

“Yeah, I mean—”

“Couldn’t you have chosen something mundanely and unconsciously sexy. Like, I don’t know, sitting and reading a book?”

He scoffs, but you can tell he’s tiredly endeared. “Reading is sexy to you?”

“Well. You squint your eyes and clearly need glasses but the concentration is definitely hot.”

“I don’t need glasses.”

“You do. Leon, baby, you squint when you’re trying to read—”

“Maybe because I’m trying to understand what I read—”

“You don’t understand anything you read, then? Because you do it all the time.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve never had a problem with my vision.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, dumb jock of mine.”

He responds with one singular fast and shallow thrust, testing the waters, lips curling up against your shoulder at the sweet sound rising from you. “You must have gotten the rest you needed if you’re sassing me.” 

“Fuck—” you hiss at the stretch, so delicious, stings so good. “Leon, can we just—”

“No,” He presses you forward, squishing you, and one of your hands digs into the armrest and the other one on his forearm that lines like a special pillow just for you to bury your head in. Your teary eyes accuse him in the window, your mind playing tricks on you again and makes it seem like they flash a deep red at you like some demon in your imagination. “Eyes on the window, watch me.”

He starts torturously slow, setting a lazy ebb and flow, the tip of his cock aimed to hit your G-spot every time he inches into you, his fingers are curled underneath your chin and still making you watch, but you can only look at how feral he is marking your neck like he’s some vampire, sucking and popping noises spreading around your body in ripples, and behind your tears, you can see the red eyes still on yours.   

“Faster,” you sob, feeling like you’re about to pass out from yet another building orgasm but know ultimately that’s not going to happen and it’s just how well he wrecks you. 

He moans obscenely into your ear, completing that with a delighted hiss as your nails mark his forearm laced with defined veins. “Gonna come for me again, huh? How many minutes has it been, and you’re gushing already? Are you just that perverted or is it me?”

“Yes, you, it’s you.” You throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder, and he lowers the fingers on your chin to hold you by the throat against him, putting slight pressure with at the two sides of your neck — not cutting your airway, but the blood flow to your brain, plunging you into cloud-soft, pleasure-fueled fuzziness.

“Inside?” he asks for permission, strained. His thrusts pick up, not shallow, but brutal all the way, and so do your whimpers. “Can I—” 

You can imagine the sensation of the warmth of him spilling into you. You’re so thankful for actively looking for hook-ups before this and getting on birth control for it. “Yeah, inside, come inside me—”

He bites down again, it has to be a new favorite thing for him, and he reaches down to circle your clit, pressing and playing, gentle and then sharp. 

You feel a familiar fullness growing, and clench yourself up, it makes Leon hiss. “Bathroom—” you choke, panicked. “We have to stop, I have to—”

He doubles the finger on your clit and you squeak, squeezing your thighs together — something’s coming and he keeps hitting that spot over and over and over again — you’re going to fucking wet yourself — “Leon, I’m serious, I’m gonna—”

“It’s not what you think it is,” he says, reassuring, caring, peppering kisses everywhere.

How is he so sure! 

“No, no, I can’t— Leon, Leon, Leon, Leon!”

Third time, third time it’s something else, you can’t, you can’t—

“You can.” He grunts, smothering your squirming by his weight. “Go ahead sweet girl, just like that. You’re doing wonderful, I got you. Let it go. Let it come.”

You hear the brief spray of something, the trickle of liquid between your thighs and the intermittent whining of his as he comes inside, but you swear you fucking pass out for a good fifteen seconds from how the coil of pleasure detonates in your core and shatters your consciousness in a foggy haze.

You fucking squirted. 

Didn’t even know you could do that. 

He made you because he was jealous.   

“Asshole,” you cry-mumble, trembling like a leaf. “My couch.”

He just laughs. His eyes are still glowing red in the window’s reflection. 

You’re too sleepy for this.

You’re dreaming that you’re Leon. 

It’s a weird nightmarish vision bleeding pulsating black at the edges probably fueled by imagining him as a mean demon ravishing you yesterday. 

One moment you’re looking down at yourself suffering in your sleep at the backseat of a car, head resting on his lap, some blond man even buffer than Leon is driving the car, you can see the outline of a scar at the side of his face and you call him Major Krauser; and the other you’re intensely gazing at yourself in the bathroom mirror, eyes are still red, but this time, there are dark veins mapping all over your body, all over your face, and they’re pulling back and moving.

You startle awake to an unfamiliar bedroom, a dull ache in your chest, weak and absolutely sick to your stomach that it feels like your guts are restlessly moving around. 

“The hell?” Just where are you right now? This isn’t your home. “Leon? Leon!”

Soft, muted hues adorn the walls, casting a serene ambiance that envelops the room, but you’re far from calm, the tight feeling in your chest pushing up into your lungs. Gentle lighting, emanating from carefully placed fixtures, are dancing upon the surfaces, creating a mockingly soothing ambiance with a faint scent of cleanliness, mingling with freshness.

You are on the plush bed, adorned with crisp linens and plump pillows, the centerpiece of the room, with bedside tables holding the essentials within arm's reach. Ahead is a cozy seating area with its comfortable armchairs and a snug loveseat and a work desk, strategically positioned near a well-lit window or a dedicated reading lamp. This awfully looks like a hotel room. 

He emerges from a door, and you see the glimpse of a bathroom behind him before he shuts it behind him. “Hey, you’re awake.”

The anxiety of the gap in your memory dissipates the moment you see him.

“And confused, where is this? Why don’t I remember getting here?” You grimace and prop your body to sit up, pressing the heel of your hand to where your heart is, his eyes flicker to the motion, eyebrows dropping down. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, faintly smiling, trying to hide his worry. “You were sleeping.”

You reach for the bottle of water sitting on the bedside table to your right. “And why did you feel the need to bring me somewhere while I was asleep?”

He eerily looks mysterious for a second. “You remember me talking about the gift I was given?”

“Yeah..?” 

“I’ve shared it with you.” 

“Oh-kay…” God, that water was heavenly. You weren’t aware that you were parched. “Is that why I feel sick? Did we go out last night and get blackout drunk or something, is that it?” 

“You feel sick?” You stop playing with the plastic bottle when his face hardens. “You shouldn’t be hurting, why…”

“Can we dial it back a little?” You raise your hands, remembering your priorities. “Leon, where are we? I can’t be here, I need to go to work, there is this article about the Spanish guest President Graham has dropped everything to meet with today and I need to get it out—”

“I’ve called in for you. You’re good.” 

Well. 

It was truly the right call to make given just how weird you’re feeling, just on the precipice of getting badly sick, you’re grateful he took the initiative for you but it wouldn’t have been bad to be told before he did this. The newspaper could have caused big trouble. “I would have appreciated it more if you asked me first.”

Leon looks genuinely bothered, you don’t know if it’s because you’re telling him off. “Sorry about that, I had no time before—”

“Time for what?” 

“Well…” He trails off, lost in thought. “How about I start from the beginning?”

“I’m more than happy to listen, but first, where are we? Spoilers are fine.”

A voice you don’t know abruptly cuts in and makes you jump. “Spain, sweetheart. You’re in Spain.”

Why the hell is there a stranger in your room?

“Who the hell are you?” You pull the covers up even though you’re not naked and dressed in a casual outfit you have no memory of throwing on. His presence in this room feels like a security breach because you’re in bed. “Why are you — Leon, why is—“ 

“Krauser.” Leon shoots up from his seat in urgency. “I told you to—”

What he said registers suddenly. “Spain?” You’re unbelievably alert. It’s the guy you saw in your dream, driving the car. Leon calls him the same name you heard in it, as well. “Leon, who is this, what is he talking about?”

His chest puffs up in concentrated dejection, misery engulfing him as he looks at you, mute. You ask him with your eyes to tell you the random guy in your room is kidding, but he doesn’t. 

You edge closer to the other side of the bed like you’re some scared animal. “What the fuck is going on?”

The glare he gives to the guy would have scared you shitless had it not been for the shock you’re going through. “Get out.”

This isn’t a prank. 

You finally explode, hands gripping the linens in a tight ball, heart beating a mile an hour. “Listen, I would like to be spoken to! Spain? Can you please explain it to me already!”

“Your boyfriend has given you the Las Plagas parasite, and you’re here to go through the initiation ceremony, so to speak. You’re to be presented to our Lord. Sorry, kid.” A pitying chuckle. “Should have had better taste in men.”

Huh.

Huh?

The very military-looking man, with the beret and the outfit and all, says it with the most fed up and serious intonation ever that a loud, ringing, involuntary laugh comes out from you and rings in the room, but something in your stomach hurts from the force of it, so you double down in pain, gasping. Something moves in you. “What… God, fuck, ow…”

You clutch your abdomen, the pain intensifying with each passing moment. It feels as though something is writhing inside you, twisting and contorting with a sickening energy. It’s foreign. Doesn’t belong in your body, you’re about to hyperventilate. 

Your mind struggles to process the gravity of the situation unfolding before you. Spain? Parasites? Initiation ceremony? It all sounds like a macabre nightmare, but the agony coursing through your body is alarmingly real.

You don’t know when Leon moved to get to you, but he is next to you all of a sudden, supporting you, eyes widening with concern, his earlier mysterious demeanor crumbling away. He moves swiftly, his hand reaching out to prop you. "Easy, take deep breaths, it’ll pass, I promise, I’ve got you," His voice drips with something icy as the person he’s addressing changes. “You told me that shit would take away her pain.”

Major Krauser watches the scene unfold with a mixture of detachment and sympathy. His presence is imposing in his stern countenance. "I told you it would make it easier," he interjects, gruff. "The worst of it is over. Superior species process differently than the regular one."

“Can’t we just—”

Fear grips you like a vice as you try to comprehend the magnitude of what is happening. "Why... What have you done to me?" you manage to make out, wavering with both pain and confusion.

His hands move gently, yet frantically to caress your arms in attempts to comfort you through the pain. “I saved you.”

“Oh, you are gone in the head, rookie.”  

Leon looks scary, a barely contained rage just under the surface, gripping you tighter. 

Your mind races, trying to make sense of the fragmented information you've been given. It all feels like a nightmarish delusion, an absurd reality you've been thrust into.

What’s going on? Just what’s happening right now?

Gasping for oxygen, you manage to choke out a question, desperation just beneath. "What kind of sick game is this?"

Krauser, stoic and unyielding, interrupts with a dispassionate tone, his eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity. "It's not a game. Lord Saddler seeks vessels, chosen ones who can carry the power of Las Plagas. You were chosen, through Leon."

You reel back, disbelieving. "Chosen? Lord Saddler? Leon, what in the world—"

Leon's gaze turns somber, regret across his face. "I made a choice, so we could be together. So you would be protected." He becomes pleading. “The world is about to change forever—”

Oh what the fuck.

You begin to cough uncontrollably, slapping a palm on your mouth, whole body wrecked by the velocity of the fit.

There’s blood when you remove your hand. 

“Oh, god,” you whimper, but the spillage of blood also marks the ebbing away of the pain, it’s gradually fading.  

“Make her drink it again. It should be fine, three days have passed.” 

Major Krauser, the enigmatic man who claimed you had been infected, remains stoic but watches your distress intently before leaving the room from another door. 

Three days. Three days? You slept for three days?

“I want to go home. I want to leave.”

Leon sighs, visibly sad. “I know, sweet girl, but I can’t let you go anywhere right now.” 

“Why!” You yank away from him, crawling to put some distance between him and you. You trust Leon, you see that he is loyal to you, but can’t stop freaking out. “Then explain it to me! What the hell is Las Plagas or whatever the hell it’s called! Just what did you do to me?”

“First, you have to know I’m — I was a government agent. I work to wipe out bioweapons, the kind in Terragrigia. That’s the basic gist of it, anyways. Spain was a mission. To save the President’s daughter.”

“What.”

Throughout the long and agonizing day, you continue to plead with Leon, hoping desperately that he will release you from your confining prison. Each time, he feigns sympathy and expresses apologies, but his determination remains unyielding. The realization that the man you love has become your captor sinks its fangs deeper into your psyche, a tormenting truth that threatens to shatter your sanity.

Moved to a more luxurious room, attended to by servants who treat you as though you were some revered figure, you feel the suffocating weight of your captivity. Leon, on the other hand, freely comes and goes, moving about with an air of authority and control here in this unknown location. 

The stark contrast between your roles within this twisted dynamic only further amplifies the madness of the situation. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain your composure when everything around you appears normal, yet you are trapped, on the verge of losing your grip on reality.

Leon's attempts to justify his actions, delivered with a soft and soothing cadence, only serve to deepen the chasm between the man you once knew and this deranged version standing before you. He speaks of a global project involving the parasitic vaccination of the entire world, claiming that he only sought to protect you and longed for your reunion in this new world order. 

According to his words, everyone will be connected through what he refers to as the Holy Body, and he brought you here to shield you from the chaos that looms outside. He even speaks of defying some enigmatic figure known as "their Lord," as if he had waged a battle for your favor against him.

It’s insane. He’s insane, but looks perfectly okay saying all of this stuff. Leon wasn’t like this one month ago, it’s Spain that changed him, the dots connect themselves — the gift that he talks about wasn’t a gift at all, he was most likely infected against his will like you were, and now believes in the batshit crazy nonsense he’s talking about like it’s gossip over tea.  

You realize quite a bit late that this is a cult because of his perfectly ordinary demeanor. He’s Leon and you trust him, and it stalls your thought process. 

You have to repeat it over and over again to process it.

Leon took you against your will, to a fucking cult. 

They even have a name for god’s sake, Los Illuminados — the ‘servants’ are cultists. It’s easy to fall into the normalcy and accept it the way Leon puts it, like some fairy tale, like telling you about news from another country. 

With the new knowledge of his past, you don’t know to be in awe of him or terrified, your whole relationship unraveling in transparent context littered between the lines as you rediscover who he is as a person and why he did the things he did — but definitely lean towards the latter the more you can’t get through to him to let this stop already, it becomes more clear to you very quick there’s a certain instability to him now that wasn’t there before, something dark as if he’s balancing himself on the razor’s edge of control, it swims closer to the surface whenever you mention you want to go home. 

The Leon you remember was gloomy at times, yes, but he was also rational, calm, and grounded. He was unyielding in the face of adversity and never subscribed to such ludicrous beliefs. The dissonance between the Leon of the past and the current incarnation, who mindlessly parrots the teachings of the cult, leaves you utterly bewildered. You struggle to reconcile the two versions, grappling with the question of who he truly is and why he committed these unthinkable acts.

In these moments, when Leon reverts into the preaching mode, his gaze becomes vacant, as if he is merely regurgitating the words he has been fed. It is only when his attention turns to your well-being that glimpses of the man you love flicker to the surface. 

The conflicting emotions within you reach a boiling point, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of how to proceed.

The gaping divide between the Leon you once cherished and this altered persona rattles your very core. Fear grips your heart as questions swirl in your mind. What now? What lies in store for you? The uncertainty looms like a dark cloud, casting shadows of doubt and despair over your fragile existence.

The answer and possible salvation comes to you in the form of a man, a mysterious figure who materializes from an entry point to the room you had no idea was there. 

The dim light casts eerie shadows on his face as he greets you with a slight bow. 

“Who are you?”

“Luis Serra, Princesita. Your only chance.” He nods, lighthearted, but you see the weight of his seriousness. “We don’t have much time. If you want to get rid of the parasite, come with me, I’ll explain on the way.”

Why do you feel like all you do is being swept with whatever current washes down your way? 

It’s bizarre to be running away — from Leon, of all people. Go with this random man number two, where? To do what? What happens to Leon, then? 

Thrown off by his sudden appearance, you try to assess the situation, searching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. 

Despite your apprehension, something about his urgent demeanor and the glimmer of hope in his eyes instill a soft landing for trust in him, you feel that he can help you somehow — but there is the obvious elephant in the room. “What about Leon?”

“I’m doing this because he asked,” Luis replies, his words carrying a sense of loyalty and commitment. They have some sort of history you don’t know. 

Without further delay, he administers a serum, providing you with a temporary respite from the torment inflicted by the parasite Leon’s infected you with. It offers relief, albeit temporary, buying you precious time before the inevitable returns in Luis’ words.

You decide to go with him and see where this path leads, you have nothing better to do, can’t see any way out of this. 

He motions for you to follow him, leading you through a concealed passage that winds its way beneath the labyrinthine corridors of the cult's stronghold — a castle, as you’re shocked to take in. The path is bleak, the air heavy with a musty scent, but you push forward, driven by pure survival instinct to get away to safety.

Luis starts explaining not too much into your journey, hushed, he has all the answers you needed in the first place, quick to the point. "Las Plagas are ancient organisms with a malevolent sentience. They infest and control their hosts, erode their will and sanity. They were made to be… weapons to be harnessed by Los Illuminados. Those who succumb to it become pawns of their leader, Saddler, carry out his agenda. Slaves to his will. They don’t have their minds intact, just flesh prisons to obey his orders."

Your first thought is of Leon, the horrible sinking feeling unspun in your stomach. 

Luis knows what you’re thinking. “Leon… and his buddy Krauser are exceptions. They possess what’s called the superior species, newly engineered.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at the same time, like he’s contemplating a good business deal. “That means free will. To a degree. Their parasites are connected to Saddler, so their bodies can be controlled, but not their minds. Not entirely. They’re not like the inferior ganados. That’s why he was able to seek you out with his own volition.” 

The realization that Leon is trapped within this nightmare strikes you like a blow, your heart sinking with each passing moment. "He isn't controlled?" you inquire, hope blossoming in your chest. "Can you save him too?"

Luis's response is filled with regret, his eyes reflecting a sorrowful truth. "I'm afraid he's beyond saving," he confesses. "The procedure I have can only remove newly hatched eggs, and Leon... well, he's already been consumed by this darkness."

The words reverberate through your mind, the horror of the situation fraying your soul. "But... I can't just abandon him!" you protest, determination and anguish trying to overpower one another.

"You'll be gone forever too if you don't," Luis warns. "It's now or never. If you hesitate, if he catches even a hint of your trail, it will be over."

“You said you were helping me because he told you to.”

“Before he was lost, yes, he made a final wish.” Luis softens, and you realize he’s grieving, too. “He told me to take you as far away as possible from him if he ever were to try and get you involved in this mess. Because he would never do that to you in his right mind, so he said. A total romantic underneath all that ice, eh?”

He would never do that to you in his right mind… 

You flash back to three days ago, to his words, to how he said he loved you, all his adoring, the broken dam of affection and how he didn’t hold back anymore. 

He wouldn’t have decided to go through with opening up to you like that had it not been for the parasite’s influence? 

Uncertainty dangles heavy as you fight with the bitter reality you thought was a dream come true, the heart-wrenching realization that the man you love has been ensnared by the very darkness he sought to protect you from — that only giving into it broke his control of keeping away from you emotionally.

Regret etches itself onto Luis's face as he observes your inner turmoil. "I'm truly sorry, Princesita," he offers with empathy. 

The moment hangs suspended, an agonizing choice looming before you, as you weigh the love you hold for Leon against the desperate need to escape the clutches of this cult. 

You don’t want to leave Leon, even when there’s something clearly wrong with him that can’t be fixed, but on the other hand… 

“Can you honestly tell me he isn’t the man I know?”

“He is less and more.” His tentativeness bleeds into the clearest possible simplification he’s able to give you.. “But isn’t the same.” 

“So what do we do? What should I do?”

You still cannot wrap your head around your whole world flipping upside down, can’t comprehend you have to leave Leon behind, you barely processed him being an agent. You’re stalling. Hesitating. And deep down in your heart, you know why. It’s because you don’t want to go. 

Leon is still Leon. 

But you’re terrified. 

 "The choice is ultimately yours to make. But I implore you to consider your own well-being and the chance to break free. I know that’s what he truly wanted."

“I—”

But as you open your mouth to respond, a sudden, excruciating pain shoots through your head, causing you to cry out in agony. It feels as if someone has driven a searing spike into your skull, rendering you momentarily incapacitated. Your body crumples, and you find yourself on your knees, clutching your head, desperately trying to block out the piercing ringing in your ears.

Amidst the torment, your consciousness is abruptly whisked away, transported to an ethereal realm. It is a dream-like state, observing the world through the lens of another's mind. The golden chandeliers cast a cascade of shimmering light upon turning corners and ornate doors, as the person you are connected to races frantically through the maze-like passages.

The frenzied movement abruptly halts, and your vision pulsates in tandem with the rapid beat of a heart. It’s Leon’s voice echoing through the recesses of your mind, a hidden depth of anger and desperation at the heart of his control. "I feel you," he utters, a slight tremble of heartbreak. "You're in here. I know you're listening. Where are you? Why did you leave?"

Realization dawns upon you, a profound understanding that you are inhabiting Leon's thoughts, sharing his fears and confusion. The sheer intensity of the experience overwhelms you, and you cry out, "No, make it stop!" Your consciousness briefly returns to the physical realm, tears streaming down your face, the pain of the connection too much to bear. "It hurts!"

The ethereal realm engulfs you once more, Leon's emotional turmoil swirling around you. His voice billows with remorse and longing. "It might... Things might have escalated a bit too quickly," he confesses, his tone laden with regret. "It's my fault, I got too cocky, too impatient. But I never wanted to scare you off. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. You have to trust me and open your eyes so I can do that, sweet girl, okay? I'll come get you. We’ll talk it out. You can’t run."

Confusion intertwines with the pain coursing through your being. Leon's words perplex you, as if there is a hidden meaning beneath his pleas. "My eyes?" you utter, the question hanging, unanswered.

Luis gets so loud that you’re brought back to your location for a split second. “Shit. Do not open your eyes!”

Leon hears what he says somehow — and it suddenly comes to you that if you’re in his head, he is also in your head. “Luis. I should have known.”

You feel a sharp pinch at the side of your neck that cannot even compete with the tremendous headache, and the vision begins to crumble, Leon getting fainter — his presence fading away, the last you hear of him is a furious and equally anguished, “Goddamnit, no!” before everything goes black.  

Luis detects the stirring of your consciousness before you do, and as your awareness is brought back from the dormant state you were in, he calls to you in the darkness surrounding everything. “Don’t open your eyes yet.”

You shift around, feeling the coolness of a rough surface against your back and the firmness of the stone floor beneath you. The silence is broken by a peculiar sound—an unsettling symphony of metallic echoes. Chains. Accompanied by Luis’ feet shuffling around, they slither across the ground, you can almost envision their length, extending and coiling, like serpents of iron, their echoes intertwine, creating an eerie melody because you can’t see them. 

“What are you doing?”

Luis's response is calm and purposeful. "Setting the scene," he explains. The sound of nails being hammered into stone with an underlying jingle punctuates his words, causing you to jump in surprise. "For Lancelot seeking his Guinevere."

The pieces start to come together, albeit slowly. "You want to trap him," you realize.

Luis acknowledges your understanding. "Wonderful, Princesita," he praises. "You catch on fast. Leon is connected to you somehow, and we can't progress if he sees through your eyes. So, we need to create an illusion."

Confusion and concern overflow as you question the feasibility of their plan. "But Leon is... He could be listening right now."

Luis dismisses your worries. "Do you feel that he is sharing your head at the moment?" he asks. The uncertainty in your response betrays your lack of knowledge. "Ey, you'd know," he asserts. "That means he isn't present. Perfect."

Doubts linger in your mind as you consider the risks. "Will it work? He's... well, I recently learned he's an agent. I don't think it'll be easy."

"Whose side are you on?" he teases, playful. But when he senses your unease, he quickly reassures you. "No worries, I get it. He's better with the ladies, I've learned."

You can't help but feel a pang of guilt. "Luis..."

He brushes off your concerns with understanding. "I'm almost done here. He's supposed to think you're alone, so you can't look at me when I tell you to open your eyes. I'll be hiding. Don't talk to me, don't acknowledge me, just wait."

Curiosity gets the better of you as you ask, "How are you going to..."

Luis's response is concise and determined. "It won’t be me who’s doing it. It will be you. I will be your distraction.” You hear his footsteps approaching, and something small but heavy being placed on the floor just beside you, hidden from your line of sight. “You’ll hide when he arrives, and when the time comes, I want you to shoot. Don’t worry, it’s a tranquilizer gun. Wish me luck so he won’t kill me on sight, eh?”

It doesn’t take long for him to signal you. 

You open your eyes, the darkness giving way to dimly lit surroundings. The scene before you is carefully arranged, meticulously designed to deceive. The chains that previously echoed through the room now come into view, hanging ominously from the winch on the ceiling, you follow the line with your eyes to see the other end is secured to the stone wall by a circle of nails. The clinks and clanks reverberate, amplifying the tension.

Luis is nowhere to be seen, but his presence lingers, a silent reassurance that you're not alone.

In the deafening silence, doubt gnaws at you, and you question the madness of your current circumstances. 

You’re unsure of what you truly desire, unable to look over how you really just found yourself going along with Luis's plan, not because it feels right, but because your mind is clouded, unable to think clearly. You feel like a reluctant child, accepting the path laid before you simply because it seems to be the only option available.

Uncertainty presses heavily upon you as you contemplate the impending encounter with Leon. Fear grips your thoughts, entwining with the deep-rooted emotions you still harbor for him. Despite the revelations and warnings about his true nature, your heart remains entangled in a web of love and trust, the idea of seeing him again evokes a conflicting mishmash of longing and apprehension. 

You find yourself yearning for his presence, against the knowledge that he is not the same person you once knew when the mere thought of his return conjures a happy expectation of hope within you, a desperate desire to be whisked away from the nightmarish reality that has unfolded — deep, deep down, you pine for him to be the savior, the one who can shield you from the horrors of this supernatural ordeal he inflicted upon you himself.

Yet, simultaneous fear engulfs your soul, you question your own liability, knowing that you still trust him, still harbor the potential to be swayed by his words and actions. The thought terrifies you, the notion that you might have readily agreed to his plans had he presented them differently, had he explained the sinister truth of the parasite in a more inviting manner. It's a terrifying realization, the awareness of your own susceptibility to his influence, and despite everything, he’s the only anchor you can hold on to not be swept away into that chaos. 

You want him to enter the room, to make everything right again, tell you all of this is a nightmare you made up in your head because in the real world you still miss him, and at the same time you also fear what his arrival may entail.

As if attuned to your thoughts, a prickle in your mind disrupts your musings—a subtle trickle of awareness, the sensation of being watched by an invisible presence sharing the same space as you.

So you wait, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the impending confrontation with Leon bearing down on you. Every second feels like an eternity as you strain to listen for any sign of his approach. The air grows heavy with anticipation, and your senses are on high alert.

Suddenly, a noise echoes through the chamber, a faint, careful creak of a door opening. Your breath catches in your throat, he was so deadly silent infiltrating the building this basement is in, and you scramble to crouch and hide behind stacked boxes facing his direction, praying to god he hasn’t heard you. 

His eyes search the room in  a hardened gaze, a mask of determination, scanning every corner, every shadow with professional coldness. 

Leon cuts through the silence, as if he’s been hurt by you somehow. "Come on, I know you’re here, you don’t need to hide from me, I’m just here to talk.. Don’t be afraid of me.”

Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, you fight back tears, reminding yourself that this is necessary, for both his sake and your own — you can’t crumble right now, absolutely dreading what actually hearing him out would do to you. 

Luis emerges from where he’s hiding, unknowingly coming to your rescue, stepping forward with calculated confidence. "Looking for someone, Leon?" he asks, dripping amused intrigue.

"Where is she?" Leon demands, and you’ve never heard him like that before — that bone-chillingly cold and intimidating, menacing, low tone is downright terrifying. 

“Not even a hola for your old friend?” 

Leon fucking pulls a gun on him and your heart jumps to your throat. “Where. is. she?”

Luis raises his hands in a placating gesture, a sly smile playing on his lips. "No need for violence, my friend. I'm here to help."

Leon's grip on his weapon tightens, his suspicion evident. "I don’t need your help anymore. Tell me where she is."

Luis chuckles softly with a trace of mischief. "Ah, the stubbornness of a man in love. But I'm afraid your Princesita is in another castle."

Anger flashes in Leon's eyes, his frustration mounting. "Don’t bullshit me Luis, I know she’s here. What are you up to?"

Luis takes a step closer, sympathetic as much as he’s purposeful. "I've done what you asked of me. She's safer without you." 

Leon's face contorts with disbelief and fury, threatening to consume him. "Safer? You have no idea what you’re talking about. There is no safer place on earth right now than by my side. The world's about to go shit. The President is down, and the impending mass vaccination is nothing but a precursor to chaos. Do you think this is some deranged lover’s obsession? No."

With hopeless resoluteness, Leon continues to pour out his frustrations and fears. "Someone, be it the WHO, Terrasave, or the BSAA, someone will eventually expose the truth about the parasite spreading through medicines. And when that happens, all hell will break loose — do you understand the scale of what I’m talking about? The illusion of a smooth and controlled resolution is nothing more than a lie, and we both damn well know it."

Emotions wash over Leon, leaving him vehement and exposed, self-deprecating, raw. "I may have failed in my mission, and I may have failed everyone, but I refuse to let her become a mindless puppet like those villagers and cultists. I won't let her perish chasing scope after scope for news articles that’ll get her killed. She's all I have left." His voice quivers with a defeated tenacity and desperation, he shakes his gun at Luis. "So yes, I made a choice. It's the right one. It's the only one. A choice where I can be with her, where she can stay safe. A choice where I become the monster, but I can’t care less about the consequences anymore. So, get out of my way, Luis, and take that getaway chopper of Ada's while I'm still giving you the chance. That a good deal?"

“What happens when Saddler loses?” Luis sighs through his nose, totally unaffected by all that talk. “What happens if you die on that hill?”

His question lingers for a moment before Leon responds, less baleful and more mournful, even accompanied with a strange sense of happiness. "I know the end. As long as I get to die in her arms, it doesn't matter."

In that instant, something within you snaps. The anguished anger and the raw empathy you feel for Leon flow through your veins, overpowering any rational thought. Without hesitation, you make a decision that feels both natural and inevitable — to shoot the tranquilizer. 

You pull the trigger, the dart finding its mark with an unsettling precision, and time slows as you watch it puncture his skin, him flinching with a hand clamping around the dart and yanking it out, his wide, red eyes finding yours as you stand up, the realization dawning in his eyes. 

You want to cry when it’s relief and happiness that comes first to him upon seeing you as if on instinct, and confusion and hurt wash over his features next as he sees what’s in your hands. It's a sight that cuts through your heart. He staggers, toward you, his body fighting against the encroaching numbness, as if defying the very fate that befalls him. With outstretched arms, he reaches for you, fingers trembling, yearning for connection amidst the sense of betrayal. 

Yet, despite his desperate efforts, his strength fails him. His legs give way beneath him, and he tumbles to the ground, his reach falling short. You watch, your heart splitting in two, as he crumples in a heap of confusion. His fingers graze at where your presence is, a touch that never finds its mark.

In the waning moments before unconsciousness claims him, his eyes search yours, pleading for answers that you struggle to provide. You stand rooted to the spot, grappling with guilt and anguish, questioning the validity of your actions, second-guessing the choices that have led to this heartbreaking scene.

As Leon finally succumbs to the claim of the tranquilizer, his body surrendering to the oblivion of unconsciousness, you're left with your final commitment, crystal clear. 

Your heart was set on this from the start. You were just too scared to admit it. 

You’ll stay with him in this darkness.

Leon’s all alone here, knows he’s doomed by the narrative, can’t leave — and all he thought throughout that was you and what would happen to you. 

You can’t leave this man in the solitude of tragedy, with the first ever selfishness of his was seeking you out despite himself to protect you. No moment has solidified his love for you more than this. How he thinks of you tremendously. 

You can’t not love this man. You can’t bring yourself to obey his wishes and abandon him.

The lamb doesn’t want to leave the slaughterhouse. 

With a heavy yet determined tone, you utter the words that seal your fate. "Go, Luis."

Luis protests, filled with concern and a touch of reluctance. "You can’t—"

Tears well up in your eyes as you gaze at Leon's unconscious form, lying helpless on the cold ground. The depth of your emotions overwhelms you, but you gather your resolve. "I can't abandon him now. Not after everything he's been through. He needs someone by his side."

Luis hesitates, torn between honoring your wishes and his genuine concern for your well-being, making a final attempt to persuade you. "I understand your heartache, but you're risking everything for him. Are you sure about this? There's so much at stake — you’ll become just like him, you know? You’ll never be able to leave Los Illuminados and go back to your old life."

“You don’t get it do you? It’s true that I'm scared, Luis. Scared of what lies ahead, the stuff you’ve talked about is straight out of a dystopian novel. But I'm more scared of losing him in all of this.” It haunts you how he said it doesn’t matter if he gets to die in your arms, no regard for his own well-being and health. Leon has never cared for himself enough, that much you know, but to think his entire system has collapsed like this, to the point where he’s let himself go entirely and came to you while wounded… It’s something you can’t turn a blind eye to. A cry for help you can’t ignore. “He looked for me in this chaos. Underneath all of the excuses of protection, Leon’s just scared. He doesn’t want to be alone.” You can’t look away now that you’ve seen everything. “I can’t go back anyway after knowing this. I’d never forgive myself. It's better to face whatever’s coming with him, no matter what horrors it holds.”

“There’s absolutely nothing I can do to change your mind?”

The fact that he’s set on doing this and looking out for you until the last second because he has promised Leon and is truly concerned warms your heart up. “You really should catch that ride before it’s too late.” 

“You’re making a mistake.” His concern mingles with a touch of admiration for your unwavering will. “But he’s hell of a lucky bastard to have you by his side throughout it all. This is the sacrifice of your life, I’m not joking. And I hope it’ll be worth it.”

He’s not like you, and that’s okay. You actually admire and envy his sense of self-preservation overweighs his loyalty and promise to Leon, that’s how a normal person should be. But the situation is far from normal, and you’re infected by a mind-altering parasite for fuck’s sake, and you’re not even sure you’re going through the quarter of what Leon has. 

“Thank you Luis.” Touched by his understanding, you reach out and take Luis's hand, gratitude shining through. “For everything.”

A somber atmosphere settles in the room as Luis grows more melancholic. He takes a deep breath before making his final request. "Before I go, there's one last thing I want to ask. Considering we don't know how he’ll react when he wakes up, I think it's best to be cautious. We should chain him up, just to be safe. I don't want him accidentally hurting you in his confused state."

You hesitate, unsure about the idea of restraining Leon, but Luis's earnestness compels you to consider it. "I don't think he would ever harm me..."

Luis interrupts gently. "Oye, let me worry about that, Las Plagas is unpredictable and dangerous. Do me this favor, it’s the least you can do to pay me back, yeah? A little caution won't hurt. And if Leon questions it, you can blame me. I can handle it from a safe distance out of his reach in the comfort of my luxury ride."

With Luis's words echoing in your mind, both of you set to work, struggling like you’re trying to roll a boulder up a hill with the weight of Leon's unconscious body. The effort is tremendous, sweat pouring down your faces as you maneuver his unexpectedly heavy frame. 

Exhausted from the strenuous task, Luis hands you the key, his face flushed with exertion as you finally finish securing Leon in chains. The room is filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the sound of your own labored breaths.

As the unvoiced question of what happens now makes itself known between you two, caught in the tension between Luis’ desire to stay and the necessity of his departure. His words come out disconnected, hesitant, obviously having an awkwardness that comes from bidding farewell under such circumstances. "Well..." he begins, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "It was a pleasure to know you, Princesita." His smile is half-hearted, betraying the mixed emotions within him. "I hope we never have to meet again."

The unexpected humor in his remark catches you off guard, and a genuine laugh escapes your lips, the sound reverberating through the room, mingling with the faint clinking of the chains as Leon stirs behind you, his presence a constant reminder of what you’ve decided to get yourself into.

Luis's insistence breaks through the brief moment of levity as he implores you, his eyes flicking between you and Leon's kneeling form. "Take care of him," he urges, a sense of responsibility coloring his words. "And yourself."

You offer him a reassuring smile, endlessly thankful for his guidance in getting you to realize Leon’s perspective. "Will do. You too, Luis," you respond, nothing but warmth in your heart for him as you acknowledge his efforts. "Don't feel bad about not being able to help us, please? You've done all you can."

He nods once, his features a blend of bittersweet defeat and acceptance. With a final glance, he retreats into the shadows, his presence fading away. The room feels emptier without him, and sadness washes over you, a stab of guilt for potentially failing him now that you are left alone with your thoughts and the finality of the decision you have made.

The room remains shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint sound of Leon's steady breaths and the gentle rattling of the chains that bind him. 

Your gaze inevitably falls upon him, bound and unconscious before you. 

The sight of him, held captive by the chains, elicits strange emotions that defy explanation. There is an undeniable allure that emanates from his restrained form, drawing you in despite the chaos that surrounds you. It is a conflicting blend of fascination and revulsion, a cocktail of sensations that confound your senses. You should be consumed by panic, overwhelmed by the dire circumstances and the looming threat of the parasite within you. Yet, in this moment, a strange calm settles within your being. Is it the influence of the parasite that dulls your anxieties, or is it a resolute acceptance of the path you have chosen?

Despite the restraints that hold him captive, there is an undeniable attractiveness that surrounds him, gluing your eyes to the sight before you.

Kneeling on the floor, Leon’s muscular physique is accentuated by the susceptible position he finds himself in, the chains tightly holding his wrists above his head, rendering him defenseless and at your mercy. His sculpted arms, stretched taut and slightly strained, display the evidence of his strength even in his helpless state, veins beneath his skin appear more pronounced, as if awakened by the touch of captivity and the strain of gravity. His tousled locks of blond hair cling to his forehead and darken in shade where they meet with sweat, adding to his prettiness. Even in his unconsciousness, there is a magnetism that emanates from his chiseled features — strong jawline, cheekbones, and glistening lips that have known both determination and tenderness. The pinch of his eyebrows low over his eyes adds a touch of rugged toughness, contrasting with the vulnerability imposed upon him by the chains. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, betraying the calmness of his unconscious state. Light and shadow dance across his defined torso, revealing the slopes and curves that bear witness to his physical prowess. 

It is an unintended pull that arises from the juxtaposition of strength and exposure, dominance and surrender. The image of Leon bound and kneeling, his arms raised and secured by the unyielding chains, creates a powerful visual dichotomy — a captivating blend of control and submitting, strength and fragility.

You didn’t know you were into BDSM. Is this what it is? Why the hell does he look so mouth watering in chains to you when there are more dire matters to feel about — you are being a giant pervert about an unconscious man. Sympathy, desire, and protectiveness intertwine, blurring the lines between what is right and what is alluring. In this moment, you are both drawn to his physical presence and compelled to ensure his well-being, torn between the magic of his bound form and the urge to set him free to not let your thoughts run further.

You have no idea how much time passes before Leon's eyes flutter open, blinking away the haze of unconsciousness, and you stand up from where you were sitting, hands clasped before you in an anxious gesture, fearing his reaction. Panic briefly flashes across his face when the drowsiness clears enough for him to notice he’s bound by heavy chains, his arms held aloft and his movements restricted — the harsh tug on the chains makes you jump and that’s how he spots you standing nearby, concern etched on your features.

"You’re okay," Leon breaks the silence, his words a murmured astonishment. It's not a question, nor is it a statement of certainty. It's an observation imbued with gratitude. He's taken aback, as if his mind is struggling to comprehend that you are here with him at all. That’s the first thing he worries about? That’s what he cares about? “You stayed.”

The corner of your lips tugs upward in a soft, bittersweet smile. "Yeah, I did," you reply. The way he looks at you, as if you hold a small piece of his shattered world together, tugs at your heartstrings.

Leon’s more wary and threat-seeking when he brings up the stranger. “Luis?”  

You start playing with your fingers. "He left.” A pause. “It was my decision.” 

He sits up straighter, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Is… that so?”

It’s so bizarre having a serious conversation with him in chains now that you’re living it. “I’m… I’m sorry for the chains, I, Luis, uh—”

“No, I get it.” He says it like it’s a given and he doesn’t mind it — and that’s when you’re reminded again that he’s a specially trained agent, that’s where the attitude weirdly used to these kinds of things has to come from. “I haven’t given you a reason to trust me.” He gazes at you, his eyes betraying remorsefully hidden emotions, voice dropping down to a low whisper. “Yet you stayed anyway even when I’m like this. I never thought... I never expected anyone would ever, for me… You know.”

Your heart is a soaked towel and he has just wrenched it dry. The way he sees himself physically hurts. "I couldn't leave you, Leon.” You sniffle, head shaking as you confess, revealing your devotion. “I could never leave you."

He reaches out, his restrained hands straining against the chains, as if longing to touch you, to reassure you of his own unwavering devotion. But all he can offer is his words. "That’s all I’ve been terrified of," he admits. It stays unknown to you if the subject of the sentence is you leaving him or you not leaving him. "Ever since I caught myself falling for you, that’s what all this has been about and — this shit inside me amplifies the worst in me, and you’re still here. Damnit.” 

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. "Leon, you are not alone in this." You want to kiss away all worries and fears he keeps to himself, now in front of you in all of their intricate, overthought glory. "I made this choice because I believe in you. I believe in us."

His gaze intensifies, searching you for any trace of doubt or unease. But all he finds is unwavering faith, and a love that refuses to be shaken. "I don't deserve you," he murmurs,  barely above a whisper. All of a sudden, the tiredness you know all so well pushes down on him. "Not after everything."

A soft smile graces your lips, a gentle warmth spreading through your entire being. Luis is wrong. He is definitely wrong — this is Leon, and he’ll always be Leon. "And I don’t deserve your love." He immediately looks like he’s going to disagree on the spot, but you don’t give him the chance. "But here we are anyway. I'm here, no matter what. I’ve made my choice. If you’ll have me too—"

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe," he vows, engraved with purpose. Just the way he says it could be added to a resume, the self-confidence and intentness of a professional in his field behind the power. "I'll prove to you that I can be the person you deserve."

"Leon, I already know the person you are. And I'm not going anywhere."

Leon's widened gaze inflames, breathing becoming more labored as he hangs his head down and nods a couple times while hiding his face from you. “Okay.”

You didn’t expect that to make you burst out laughing, and his head shoots up when he hears your laughter echoing in the chamber. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth, turning around to not let him see and think you’re mocking him. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” You manage to turn it down to snickering, screaming at yourself to stop already. “It’s just… that was so unironically you and… God, help. I don’t know why this is so funny to me—”

“Okay...”

“Stop! Stop saying okay.” You laugh again at his intonation, pushing the back of your hand against your nose. “That’s all you can say?”

Some sort of fascination surfaces beneath his stoic mask, like he’s someone who’s hearing the birds chirp for the first time. “Actually, I have a lot to say, but…” You watch him rise, his height allowing him to hold his chained wrists on his waist level. He reaches out with his shackled hands, beckoning you to come to his side, yearning for a connection, “You’re too far away for it.”

You jokingly tease. “Will you be a good boy?”

It has an immediate effect on him, sweet adoration stains into something suggestive, lingering between you like a charged current, and you can feel the shift in his demeanor, the warning tilt of his head, the faint red shine swallowing the blue of his eyes, the chains rattling as he grabs onto them in a tight, restrained grip, body tensing, a coiled energy barely contained. 

As his voice emerges in a single, sharp syllable, a low and husky whisper, “Don’t,” it sends a shiver all over your body. The words are measured, deliberate, and carry an undertow of caution that both entices and warns. It's a dark invitation. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It’s not just you. 

You’re both fucked up. 

And you take a step closer, closing the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest, and he watches you like a hawk. “I’m just asking a question.”

His eyes glow with an intense crimson hue in response, piercing through the dim light, making you halt when there’s only about five feet left between you and him. Black veins spread across his skin like intricate patterns of ancient curses, marking him up. And extending from his lower back, a large scorpion-like tail emerges, its barbed stinger poised in the air, and just as how the spine is a series of individual vertebrae, small bones stacked one upon the other, his tail too is articulated, allowing it to curl like a snake, curving and undulating with an eerie grace, almost as if it has a life of its own.

It dances through the air, floating towards you, its presence both beguiling and unsettling. You watch, apprehensive and curious, as Leon manipulates his tail, rotating it to show you every angle. As he nudges you gently with it, an unexpected tenderness shines through his alien appearance. "It won't hurt you," he emphasizes, a soothing reassurance. He looks like a creature plucked from the pages of a fantastical novel, but his care for you remains undeniable. "Try touching it."

You observe the chitinous exoskeleton, marveling at its texture and the otherworldly allure it possesses. "Will you feel it?" you ask, a snap of fidget in your curiosity.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a flicker of a mischievous smile playing at the corner of his lips. "That's a dangerous thing to want, don't you think?" His words carry a double meaning, an underlying invitation to explore the depths of desire that lies beneath the surface. In that moment, you realize you've unknowingly become a participant in his intricate game, a delicate dance of discovering boundaries.

"Leon, half-insect or not, I would want every part of you," you confess, unapologetically honest and smoking with desire. A swelling of boldness overtakes you, fueled by a mix of desire and affection. You take a step closer, your hand reaching out to grasp his tail. The texture surprises you—smooth and warm, defying the expectations of a creature born from nightmares. Leon's tail jerks slightly in response to your touch, the connection between you both sending a jolt of static through where you’re touching, and he is momentarily stunned, his ardor momentarily subdued by your unabashed declaration. “I want you, always.”

"Alright, alright. You made your point," he interrupts, a flicker of bashfulness visible beneath his attempt to maintain a composed facade. The teasing spark in his eyes is replaced by a rare sentiment, his emotions laid bare before you. "Well. " Some sort of self-consciousness fogs his expression as he looks down. "Though I do feel the same,"  he concedes, pink creeping across his cheeks.

But you're not finished. You close the remaining distance between you, your eyes locked with his. "Leon, I love you." You pour your heart into those three words, stronger, unmoving, louder, hoping he understands the depth of your affection if he hasn’t gotten it yet.

He looks away for a brief moment, his gaze fixated on something indiscernible, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah," he mumbles softly, almost lost in the space between you.

Undeterred, you reach out to gently grasp his face, turning his gaze back to meet yours. "I love you," you repeat, scolding him that he’s not taking you seriously. You want him to hear it, to understand the magnitude of your feelings.

A flicker of surprise crosses his features, quickly replaced by something akin to relief, leaning into your touch as if you’re the coolness he needs on a hot summer day. He likes hearing it from you, that much is clear, but the unfamiliarity of the sentiment leaves him momentarily at a loss for words. "Okay," he finally responds, his voice a soft affirmation.

You're about to reprimand him, demanding that he say the words you long to hear in return before you unchain him. But before you can voice your frustration, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over you, throwing your world into disarray. Your vision blurs, the room spinning and tilting on its axis. You desperately blink, hoping to clear your sight, but the disorientation only worsens. The force of gravity seems to intensify, tugging at your stomach and weakening your legs, causing you to stumble forward. The pain strikes you with a merciless blow, knocking you off balance and into Leon's waiting arms. Your hands, once cradling his face, now find purchase on his shoulders for support.

"Hey!" The weight of your limp body causes Leon to follow you down, sinking to his knees just as you do. However, the chains that bind his arms above his head prevent him from fully supporting your torso. In a swift motion, he maneuvers his tail to secure your body against his, stopping you from falling backward. Your head lolls on his shoulder, basically shaking against him.

"Hang in there, come on," he pleads, trying to reach you. "Talk to me, what's happening?"

Struggling to keep the pain under a manageable level, you reply briefly, not wanting to talk. "I don't know... Felt… dizzy..."

"Shit, okay," he curses softly, his concern deepening. "Does it hurt?"

You just make a curt sound, wanting him to let it go and keep yourself from flopping like a fish out of water on the ground from how it’s ripping you apart. 

“I gotta know if it does. Can you tell me?”

You’re suffering, how does he not see? Does he need verbal affirmation that badly?

“Yeah,” you say behind gritted teeth. “Sure does.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to sting you, alright? Only a drop of venom into your bloodstream,” he explains as merciful and comforting as he’s able in your state.  “You’ll feel a pinch but it’ll relax you. It might put you in an… aroused state because of your parasite, but you’ll no longer feel pain — it’ll feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

The mention of the potential side effects of whatever he wants to do to you makes your brow furrow in confusion, but there's no time to dwell on it. The pain has become unbearable, hacking at your every thought. "I'll feel good?" you question, dying for any kind of escape from the burning.

"Yeah," Leon affirms, a tenderness that reaches deep into your soul. "You'll feel good."

A stream of questions floods your mind, but Leon interrupts before you can voice them. "Not now," he interjects, pressing the syllables with more stress and emphasis. "Will you let me take care of you?"

His distress resonates with your own need for relief. "Yes," you respond without hesitation. "Yes, okay. This pain is killing me, just do it."

With a swift movement, his scorpion-like tail hovers near your exposed nape, its barbed stinger poised and ready.

"I promise, it'll be over soon," Leon whispers, dead set on his goal. "Just hold on."

The venomous tip of his tail makes contact with your skin and a sharp pinch sends a jolt of sensation through your body, but the initial pain subsides almost instantly, replaced by a soothing coolness that spreads from the injection site. It's an odd sensation, the venom working its way through your bloodstream, numbing the pain and replacing it with a peculiar mix of relaxation and heightened sensitivity.

A soft exhale is pulled from your lips as the effects continue taking hold, the relief washing over you like a gentle wave, and you melt against Leon, wrapping yourself around him, having automatically sought him out on pure instinct. He carefully adjusts his sitting and goes down on the balls of his feet to allow you to crawl on him, ensuring you're comfortable, his tail retracting to support your back for a more comfortable embrace.

"You're doing great," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos. "Just let it take effect, I’m here."

The heaviness in your limbs dissipates, replaced by a newfound lightness, as if a mass has been lifted from your body. The world around you becomes hazy, the edges blurred as the arousal Leon had warned about intertwines with the relief spreading through your veins, 

It begins with a tingling warmth that spreads across your limbs, akin to tiny sparks dancing on your flesh, and then, the heat gradually intensifies, caressing your senses with a gentle yet invigorating burn that awakens every nerve ending. But amidst the rising warmth, the usual wave of the venom’s coolness follows, like a frosty breath gently kissing your skin. The burn and the coolness entwine, creating an annoying race of who gets to be on top. The heat stimulates your awareness, drawing attention to how good it feels to have Leon’s strong body against you, how you would like more, how you want to explore this new form of his as he’s ribboned up like a present before you; but simultaneously, the coolness acts as a tranquil connection to reality, tempering the fiery sensations with its gentle touch.

Leon’s unique smell underneath your nose pours into your circulation from your heaving lungs, you snuggle in to get more of his scent, in the crook of his neck, right behind his ear… You can’t help but rub your head against it like it could somehow pass to your own body — it’s all instinct, the space of your head pleasantly misty, the feeling of only wanting to get closer wiggling enthusiastically inside. You notice your hands are on the move later, running up his sides and his back, only when you feel the ripple of bumps on his spine following your fingers gliding up and down as if responding to your touch. 

“Leon…” He sucks in a sibilant sound when your nails run down his back, momentarily shivering against you. “Leon…”

“Yes, I’m here.” It’s his tail that cuddles you against him because his hands are unavailable. “What do you need, sweet girl, hm?”

How do you say you want to fuck his brains out and do as you wish with him as he’s chained when he can’t retaliate, and how turned on you’re getting by the minute? “I need you.”

You hear the chains rattle and glance up briefly to see his hands balled up in the restraints. “How do you need me?”

His tendency to take things slow and enjoy the augmentation of need as it builds up is a formidable adversary to the you of the present, the frustration is testing the limits of your endurance. There’s something carnal in the way you want him right now, eating away at your patience for playing games with him. 

You rise on your knees still framing the outside of his thighs, and taking advantage of the small difference of height it gives you, yank his hair back to make Leon look up at you, his eyebrows arch upward in an arc, the ascent giving away the shock, and his mouth falls agape, lips parting to release a whispered exclamation “I don’t need this dirty talk, I want your dick in my throat.” You stare him down, catching your reflection in his red eyes and see that the same blight webbing him up is also infesting you, shining in your eyes in the same shade of crimson as his. You simply don’t care. “Is that a satisfying answer?”  

His chin lowers, leering lascivious, and you swear the veins on his face become a more prominent shade of black. “Jesus Christ.” He yanks on the chains, the harsh sound higher in pitch with the power behind it. “Gimme the key.”

“Nooooot gonna.” He leans towards you when you scooch away from his lap, but is unable to chase you fully. You fixate on his crotch, mouth watering, throat anticipating taking in his shape, phantom soreness reminding you what’s coming. You reach out to his thighs and place your palms on his knees, running them up awfully slow, feeling the rigidifying limbs under your touch. 

“Huh? Hey, what do you mean—” He’s stuck between trying to get up and staying that way for you. “What, you’re not untying me?”

“Shut up, I’m in heat right now.” You pop the button of his jeans and bring down the zipper, palming his half-hard bulge above his underwear. “Stop complaining.”

His hips jolt up into your hand, eyes fleetingly rolling behind his head from the satisfying contact, and his cock continues to swell up in your hand, straining against the confines of his briefs. “I’m not complaining — ”

You yank his underwear down, his head popping free and dangling, you bring the underwear underneath his hips along with his jeans with a little help from him rising up and allowing them to slide down better. “You brought this on me, so I’ll feel good the way I want to. Stop. Talking.” 

Chuckling in an underestimating mirth, he’s in the middle of saying, “Yes, ma’am—” mockingly when you lift the edge of his top up to shove the crumpled fabric into his mouth, exposing the carved dips and curves of his chest and stomach. He’s rendered shellshocked for only a second before he lukewarmly glares at you, that’s how you know he doesn’t hate it and only acts like he does. That interested swishing of his tail would be enough to break the chains, but he doesn’t attempt it at all. A silent communication passes between you two, that this is an extension of the role-reversal sex you had the day he left for Spain, and he makes it clear he’s down for whatever you want to do with him. 

Without breaking eye contact, you kiss down his chest and the pads of your fingertips glide along his heated, soft and firm skin, and slow down when you reach the plane of his pronounced abs that tense with each lick and open-mouthed nibble from you, the tautness increasing when the way down from his navel and the path you follow along the veins end up becoming torturously unhurried. 

He has to breathe from his nose, and you pick up where he is on the scale of impatience from his control breaking for it to seep into how sharp or deep they become 

You decide to go on your stomach for now,  letting him remain perched, the coldness filtering into your clothes from the ground not really all that important compared to drinking in all of Leon’s crumpled microexpressions. 

A satisfied noise rises from him as you take him into your hand and give a couple pumps and purposefully stick your tongue out to let your spit dribble considerably on it for better slip and slide, he’s starting to get red in the face. 

And when he thinks it’s about to start with the usual opening of getting him in the mood by the standard jerk-off and the buildup from there, you catch him off-guard by taking him all the way into your throat in one go, concentrating to keep your gagging and choking at a manageable bodily response that won’t make you recoil and start coughing — and surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, whatever’s in that stinger of his is making everything feel different, you are actually scratching an itch at the back of your throat with Leon and it feels so fucking good to give him head and hearing him respond so eagerly to it. 

The sound he makes despite holding his shirt up with his mouth is choked and powerful as his hips jerk forward and pushes into your mouth, his guttural whine stutters from Leon as you swallow around him. He can’t talk and respond or tell you how you’re doing, but all the pretty noises, from gruff groans, to desperate humming, and restrained moaning tell you all about how he’s feeling. 

You run your nails along the skin underneath his naval and the muscles there jump, the bobbing of your head picking up unexpectedly as you’re literally working to rip his climax off, and he doesn’t feel it sneak up on him, breathing getting more rapid and panicked at how fast you’re wrenching it out of his dick and unconscious shallow thrusts meeting your movements right in the middle — you know exactly when he’s about to come from the slight swell of his dick in down your fluttering esophagus and the tightening of his stomach. 

That’s when you stop and take him out with an audible pop, your lips puffed and red, eyes teary. It twitches before slapping against him and his shirt falls from his teeth in an agonized and disappointed groan as his hips stutter forward in an attempt to search for friction, the fucking saliva trail connecting his lips to the fabric makes your heartbeat swoop downwards. “Why? I was right there!—”

You bat your eyelashes at him, blowing cold air on his denied arousal. “I know, baby.”

“You…” His lips draw back in the middle of a low sound at you gripping his base and giving the head kitten licks, alternating between swirling your tongue around and focusing on sucking the tip only. “Ah, what the fuck.” Your tongue delves into the slit of his head and precum gushes forward, his teeth are exposed in a breathy sharp hiss and a jolt.  “Yeah, that’s it… Shit.” 

The view of his fat chest and his strained, sweat-glistening strong neck swallowing is divine, you pick up the momentum again just to see him get worked up enough to throw his head back for the sight of his striking Adam’s apple, the black veins are doing something else to you that has your insides flipping.

You catch the glimpse of his tail swishing in the air, curling at tandem with your movements. You try taking all of him again to see how it’ll move and the sudden stop and trill has you wanting some friction between your legs. “Fuu—ck, your mouth is a vision, full of me.”

You lick along the bigger vein trailing up under his cock. “Does it feel that good?”

He only nods and thrums a small shudder, but you don’t let him off the leash just yet. “How easy.” Leon’s eyes snap open at the audacity. “Being chained and played with like this…” You give him a particularly harsh pump and the chains jangle because of his sudden tug. “Letting it happen because you want it so much. Desperate to be fucked.”

The degradation alone gets him to pulsate in your hand a couple times, his brow wrinkles as if he’s suffering. “You like this.” You drag a sluggardly strong grip up his weeping cock and his tail whips the ground. “Say it.”

His muscles tense and release, creating a rhythmic movement beneath the surface of his groin upon your teeth getting into the mix. “Shit — I love it.” His arms flex, causing his shackles to rattle. “Everything you do — everything you do to me feels amazing. Keep going, nearly there, I’m about to—”

You hum around him, and he clearly feels the vibrations, rising his hips in an unbelievably hot fluid movement and cursing under his breath, ruby-stained eyes glassy and feverish and mouth thinned and bit from inside. His thighs caging you begin to shake, and you’re made aware he’s close again. 

And this time, it’s him who knows you’ll pull back when he needs it the most. “Oh no, you don’t.” 

Something coils around your torso and pins you in place so his dick can’t slip out of your mouth, you struggle for air and attempt to pull back, but Leon barges in on your alarm, hoarse and gravelly. “Easy, it’s just me, don’t worry.”

Your hands grasp to the fabric of the jeans on the inside of his thighs, finally able to comprehend he used his tail to bind you — surprisingly gentle yet immovable, it doesn’t suffocate you, nor hurt you in any way. 

Mouth still around him, you look up to see he’s watching you, possessing a smoldering zeal, hunger a glint on a knife’s edge, shadow of a sly smile dances upon his lips, a knowing smirk, a sense of assuredness amplifying how he has you, one that reveals all that he’s thinking and claims control from your hands. With every heavy breath he takes, his chest rises and falls, revealing the heightened state of his arousal, and it seems his irises glow a shade darker crimson, a pulsating energy radiating from him, a palpable magnetism that ignites a fire within your own being.

“I’m going to move us around, stay still.” 

He makes sure to remove his erection from your mouth without hurting you before it’s with a natural predator’s grace he rises and stands up, his tail maneuvering you around to sit on your knees right in front of him, and you can only gape as he wraps the excess of chains around his wrists so they don’t get in the way, his forearms and biceps pop like they belong to a god like this. 

“Pretty mouth, waiting just for me.” At this height, he’s able to reach down and run a thumb along your bottom lip and push in, rubbing through the length of your tongue, fascinated.  

The giant appendage, then, unwinds around you, but much to your astonishment, doesn’t slither away, the thinnest end sneaking its way between your thighs instead and your legs clamp around it, but the drag forward defying your refusal has you squeaking. God, the jointed nature of it, like some weirdly shaped anal beads, is acting as periodic zaps moving against your heated sex. It even has the strength to fucking lift you up. Your panties are going to be ruined at this rate. “Leon, what—”

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You’re boosted up when it gives you a particularly harsh press, stars shooting everywhere in your vision with the delicious press not just focusing on one area, but rolling through your clit and dipping to make your entrance contract. “I’ll move it, you focus on taking me.”

Fuck, this is basically the thigh riding from before but on another level, that’s so hot —  

His manacled hands wrap around the angry red of his cock, the size of his hands so titillating fisting the length. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth, is that okay?”

You reflexively swallow, mouth watering instantly. “Please. Please.”

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock down your throat. I can’t refuse when you plead like that.” He rewards you by a rich thrust of his tail forward, your eyes closing in delight, you’re sure that a wet spot is forming with all that moving around. “Open up.” 

You obey and loosen your jaw as much as you can to let him set the pace, hands grabbing on the moving appendage between your legs in preparation to be used like some glory hole, but unlike your aggressive start from before, Leon is much more deliberate and unhurried in bottoming out, your head is swimming in a sea of dizzyingly gratifying smog, white and blanked out as he pleasures you through it. 

You get so lost in it that he sharply hisses and caresses your forehead with shaking hands and has to warn, “No teeth, sweet girl. Relax… Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so well, so perfect, making me feel so good.” 

You don’t mean to mewl around him the way you do, but his praises are so sweet as if he’s always getting his dick sucked for the first time, makes you feel appreciated, makes you feel special. 

Tears are streaming down your face, saliva drooling down your chin, you’re sure you’re gonna have a sore throat after this, and that sight would be ugly and messy to you, something you wouldn’t want to show anyone, needlessly embarassing, but it spurs Leon on, he craves prettying you up as he says, loves that you become a mess just for him — and you had missed all of that being a sign of neediness before all this. He loves the feeling of being special just as you do, loves that he’s able to get you filthy like this. 

“Shit — can’t believe I get to have this forever, now… Never thought… Never—” He breathily laughs, the sound turning into a wanton growl as your throat constricts through his drawn-out, unrushed thrusts. He’s babbling like a man in a confessional, speed beginning to pick up, the movement of his tail also reflecting the frenetic climb, sending your snowballing itch spiraling into completion. “Don’t care what happens anymore — don’t care, don’t care, only need this—sah, fuck!”  

His hands hastily rest on top of your hand to keep you in place and you whine and squeal, his stretch digging impossibly further down, a long groan echoing in the chamber at the same time of something metallic shattering and falling off with incredible strength, Leon’s hips twitching in place with your nose buried deep in the fuzz of hair at the base of his cock. Waves of warm spurts drizzle down your esophagus, and you don’t taste anything, but have a go at swallowing on instinct, and it coerces a strained, debauched moan out of him. 

His tail moves to pull you away from him and you sit back on your heels, shaking more so from your impending orgasm being pulled right under your feet like a rug because of the abrupt halt of the rhythm, unable to stop the coughing, wrapping a hand around your throat for dampening the soreness, and before you know it, his lips have taken the place of your hand, smothering your neck and your face with kisses. 

“You did so good. A fucking angel of sin — for me only.” He doesn’t hesitate to entwine his tongue with yours tenderly as if it’s a honeyed treat to lap up, his gratitude and enthusiasm running high as before. The way he speaks into your mouth gets you pressing your legs together to ease the painful, sweet throbbing between your legs. “You were amazing, sucked the soul out of me, holy shit.”

A whiny, “Leon,” and a tug on his shirt is all he needs to know you need him.  

“I know sweet girl, I have you.” His tail sneaks around your waist again, loose in case of your refusal. In the corner of your eye, you see the winch fastening the chains on the ceiling is squashed on the floor, yet his hands are still bound. “You trust me to make you feel good, right?”

“Yes, always.”

“You can say no if you don’t like this.” The sensation of being moved so easily by something alien is frightening as much as it’s arousing when it’s coming from Leon, your anticipation is about to drip down your legs at his tail gently propelling you up to stand on both feet steadily and turning you around so your back is facing Leon. You are bent down from the waist, and the fear of falling makes you jump, but the appendage is fully supporting you, almost making you float, you could stand on your tiptoes with full body weight and you wouldn’t crash on your forehead. “Is this alright?”

You are about to break down in a series of tremors from how much this is turning you on. “Yeah.”

His hands run along your tailbone. “I’m going to chain your wrists behind your waist. That okay?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“Tell me if it’s too tight.” He doesn’t need to reach for your hands, you align them to rest on your waist on top of each other. He does adjust them a bit and sets you straight after you crane your neck to take a good look at what he’s doing — you’re only able to get a single frame of him unwinding some of the restraints around his wrists to bind them around yours, affectively connecting both your shackled wrists together in a short line of chain. One of his hands grabs and tugs, securing his tail around your torso a bit better at the same time. “How is that? Any discomfort?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Can you please just fuck me already, I’m about to die.”

He lets you go to slide two fingers up your clothed pussy, your folds quite literally pulsing at the contact. “It’s burning up —- you want to brand me, huh?”

You don’t indulge in his running mouth, just wanting to enjoy the fiery pleasure his fondling fingers light in their wake. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He switches to pulling your pants down together with your panties, but not all the way down, making it hang in the middle of the most supple part of your thighs, efficaciously getting them to act as yet another restraint, this time, around your legs so you won’t be able to part them. Two digits easily slide inside and you yelp, held in place mercilessly. “Fuck,” he says, faintly, a subdued composure, the voice going straight to your pussy and making you clench over his fingers. “You eat me up so eagerly. That hungry, sweet girl?”

Your head’s tingling and buzzing from all that rush of blood in this position, everything gets more overwhelming when you bow your head. You just want him inside you. “Please…”

 You pitifully moan at the loss of your fingers, and the brief squeeze of his tail is comforting. “I’ll relieve you.” The replacement of his bulbous tip running through your lower lips is enough stimulation for your toes to curl inside your shoes. 

You’re shaking with the release of your anticipation, and he curses. “Fuck, you’re sucking me in.” The same chain that binds you both rattles when he grabs your bound wrists, your eyes widening at how his tail also simultaneously pulls you towards him to sink into his girthy length, working together with his hips. 

He’s working you. Using you. Manhandling you, drilling you into him like he’s using a fleshlight as he pleases and everything feels so euphoric, your mind descending into a foggy, floaty bliss despite the tears of instant gratification; the whole burden of responsibility, decision-making, and external pressures melt away and only he exists, and the ecstasy Leon’s spoon-feeding you.

He checks in on you, pulling on your binds, voice tight. “Feel good, sweet girl?” 

“I wa—” You hiccup, followed by a trembling whimper, wanting something for your neglected clit, you can’t reach the threshold like this, you keep rising but not enough. “I wanna come, please, let me—”

“Sshh.” His tail is circling you, like a snake twisting around its prey, and you don’t get it at first that he’s getting more of it into the grip for the fat and curling part of his stinger to be able to reach and roll over your unattended, swollen nub. 

Your mind is so sunken into the pleasure you can’t even worry about the barbed part getting near your vulnerable parts, but he’s an expert at making it knead just the way that gets you uninhibitedly screaming. “I got you, I got you.”

Your legs collapse beneath you, his tail carrying your entire weight as your climax fractures within you unexpectedly, not even taking some time to grow and spread and take time aching — it just explodes, making your body convulse in aftershock shudders, unable to contain your palpitating sobs. 

“Ah, Jesus Christ, fuck!—” The clamp of your cunt around Leon also dropkicks him into his own orgasm, shooting straight into your cervix. He rams into you a couple times before he bottoms out to the hilt, his chained hands having yours in a death-grip, staying like that until the twitching of his cock subsides and he starts going soft. 

When you come to next, the chains are completely gone, broken and shattered on the floor, even. Your clothes are straightened and he sits cross-legged on the ground, his back to a wall, and you’re on his lap, tightly hugged by him, still struggling to catch your breath. The view of his muscular arms around your waist is a delight, as always. 

“I feel disgusting,” you say. A sense of discomfort washes over you, amplified by the lingering physical sensations of sweat and fluids. Your face contorts with a mix of satisfaction and unease, the need to cleanse yourself from the stickiness that clings to your skin uncomfortable.

“I think that was amazing.”

You snort. “Not that — I mean, I want to take a bath, everything feels so sticky.”

Leon plants a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll take you.” 

He probably means somewhere you can clean yourself, but you can’t help but ask. “Take me where?” 

He pulls you in to snuggle better, resting his forehead on your shoulder, tired but playful. “Well, there’s this castle.” 

He still hasn’t told you all that much about what’s going to happen. There is no salvation from the parasite inside you anymore, it has its home in you, but you know you’re not a captive, not when you share the same chains as him. “After our visit, can I—can we return home, then?”

“I…” The sentence dies as it starts. “I don’t think that’s possible. Not for a while.”

“Because you won’t let me?”

“Because I don’t know what Saddler will want with you.”

He knew the consequences. 

Something inside you makes you change your mind — no, he chose the lesser of two evils for you knowing what was coming. 

You can’t bring yourself to blame him, this was meant to happen — you were meant for this gift, meant for this fate, to carry this creature, share it with him. You feel less doubtful and sure of this now, feel the same red of Leon’s eyes, the black of his veins, you shoulder the agony together. 

Your common sense gives a last breath as it fades into non-existence. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, shielded and spiteful. “Yeah.”

“But you still wanted me by your side.”

“I was worried.”

“You were lonely.” He succumbs into a muzzled silence, and you try to reach out once again. “At least we’re together, right?” 

“Yeah… Together in this hell.” You don’t get to see what kind of face he’s making. His deep voice is raspy, and despite his contrition, he’s holding onto you tighter than before. Failure is a shame upon him, and he doesn’t let himself be comforted. “I’m sorry for bringing you down with me.”

“I’d burn for you, anyway. I don’t care.”

He’s brusque and uncompromising. “I wouldn’t let you burn.”

“Then I’d burn with you.” You turn in his lap to look him right in the eyes — his red meets your red. “Together in this hell, right?”

Lambs to the slaughter. 

[aardvaark]

Throughout leverage we see multiple different people driving the team/groups. Parker with the "I was taught to run from the cops", Sophie with the "taxi driver in Istanbul (citation needed)", Eliot with "I am getting us there in 5 minutes or less"... So what is your headcanon for how they decide who drives? Does Nate have a specific set of criteria where he picks who drives? Do they argue about who drives?

well, a lot of places they go, they need minimum two vehicles: hardison's van for tech (i think its only got two actual seats, though im sure people have had to sit in the back & get thrown around lol) and at least one car for other people/general driving. hardison tends to drive lucille so thats one down. if eliot's around to drive, he's probably driving the second car. if not, then nate, then sophie, then parker*. when hardison isn't driving lucille, he's probably as likely to drive as nate or sophie. and when tara's there, i doubt she has driving privileges lol.

in s1, i doubt they're carpooling much. like, they'd drive from their homes to the hq to the job themselves, and only go in the same car to do some quick task. later, they treat nate's apartment as home base and are frequently there for very little reason lmao, so thats when they actually have to plan more about who drives. obviously it heavily depends on how many cars are required and who's doing what. but. it seems like it's often nate driving with sophie as passenger, eliot driving himself or with parker as passenger, and hardison driving himself or with parker as passenger.

*detailed explanation of their individual driving under the cut:

parker is a genuinely great getaway driver, so her skills are useful in that type of situation... but i think 99% of the time, when they're not requiring a quick getaway, she is BANNED from driving. sophie even said so somewhere in s3, i dont remember exactly. canonically she can drive perfectly normally too (eg her driving with tara in the s2 finale) to be fair. she just doesnt want to lol. the stuff she has in her own car (both useful items and "decoration") is somewhat disturbing and very confusing. a lot of it is sharp. or a chemical hazard.

sophie drives sometimes but her driving can be... questionable, occasionally (ie big bang job). the (alleged) fact she learnt to drive from a taxi driver in istanbul seems to imply she didn't learnt to drive later than most, when she was traveling a lot? her attitude of "if i'm doing my job right, the mark just turns off the alarm for me" makes me think she'd apply the same logic here and would've done more hitchhiking & public transport than driving when she was first starting out, but over time got herself a car and learnt to drive because its kinda a safety thing in her line of work (need a getaway). all this to say, she can drive and she might have a nice car but its not her priority, you know?

nate drives sophie, some mix of her thinking its chivalrous and him having some ingrained ideas about male gender roles, but also just personal preferences. and a little bit because hes seen some of her questionable driving choices. once they're together, this changes to a more even split. also nate is def a backseat driver (like, regardless of who's driving/their skill level) and has been kicked out of a car at least once.

hardison is also mostly fine to drive or not drive like sophie. he'll bicker with eliot about who drives but mostly that's just an extension of their ongoing bickering saga. every time one of his lucilles gets exploded or whatever, he has a period of mourning and takes a couple weeks before he'll let other people drive the next incarnation of lucille - and to be fair thats usually because one of them was responsible for killing lucille.

eliot doesn't let other people drive his car (unless its absolutely necessary for a con - see: the boost job). he only begrudgingly lets people IN his car because SOMEONE spilled slushie all over it one time and yes he will continue to bring that up a decade later, hardison. i think being around the team has made him become one of those people who has strict rules for being in his car lol - no food/drink, no leaving anything in the car that doesnt have to be there. obviously the team break these rules all the time.

and the definition of what is a "necessity" and can therefore stay in the car is a BIG ongoing debate. some items of interest on the "necessity" list: gift wrapping paper, one (1) shiny thing, a gaming console, chloroform, a neatly packed bag of spare clothes, at least one dress hanging up with a dust cover, 3-5 CDs (which must be individually approved before being added to the car and only one of which can be christmas-related), spare reading glasses, cables that eliot annoyingly can't veto because he doesn't understand that stuff enough to argue, aluminium foil, and a pack of hair ties.

some things that have been BANNED: food & drink, glitter (there was an incident), nail polish (there was more than one incident), most tech stuff ("that's why you have lucille!"), secret money stashes, anything considered priceless by art experts, "surprises", and live animals.

i would love a road trip episode where most/all of them are taking turns driving and are stuck together in a vehicle for ages. also i now have the urge to go through the series and actually chart who drives.

lol thank you very much for the ask and ik the length is crazy but i hope this is a good answer haha.

[marnikula]

Can u do early seasons spencer x reader who has a lot of problems and they let people walk all over them and they dont set boundaries and they struggle with their emotions. Reader likes spencer a lot but doesn't seek him out bc they feel like he deserves better! And u can decide what happens but make it happy ending :)

Oh my word, I literally spent like 2 hours writing this because I wrote something and then my internet cut out when I posted and now it's lost, so I had to rewrite it. Hope you enjoy!

Cw: gn reader, people dumping work on reader, Spencer being cute

Enjoy!

You were a doormat. You knew it, your friends knew it, everyone knew it. You tried to set boundaries, to say no, but it never seemed to stick. Saying no made you feel guilty, it made you feel like a bad person even though you knew you weren't.

Being a doormat, people tended to walk all over you, requesting ridiculous things of you. That is how it came to be that you were sitting alone in the bullpen, the clock ticking away, showing you that it was around midnight and you still had a whole stack of papers to go through. You felt yourself about to fall asleep, and truly, you were too tired to fight it off when a ding signaled the arrival of someone.

Without even turning to look who it was you knew it was Spencer Reid. You recognized his footsteps, and even if you didn't, the smell he brought with him would have alerted you. It was the smell of coffee mixed sweet undertones, almost as if he had spent his whole day in a café. It was intoxicating. "What are you still doing here?" "Working, I have a lot of stuff to finish before tomorrow" "you mean today" looking back at the clock you could see he was right, it was now officially the next day.

"Do you need some help?" without even waiting for you to decline Spencer took half of the pile you were working on. He moved fast, knowing you well enough to know that you hated asking for help, especially from him, he just could never figure out why.

"Spencer, you really don't need to, I've got this" reaching your hands to take the files back only to be swatted away by the doctor was something you did not expect. "I'm not saying you don't have it, I'm just going to help you so you can go home earlier"

Sighing you admitted defeat and went to go make coffee for the two of you. With Spencer's help you managed to make it through the massive stack of papers on your desk in less that an hour, something you would never have been able to do on your own.

"You, doctor Spencer Reid, are amazing, what can I do to thank you?" it was a slight tease on your part. You didn't expect him to ask you anything return, it wasn't like him, he was too nice . That was one of the things you loved about him, and one of the reasons you willed the crush growing in your heart to shrivel up and die. He deserved so much better than you. Someone with a mind as amazing as his own, someone with kindness rivaling his and someone who knew how to say no. You were none of those. At least not in your own eyes.

"You could go on a date with me" Spencer surprised himself with those words, he really hadn't meant to say them out loud, but he really liked you, and in a moment of confidence inspired by sleep deprevation, he decided to take a chance.

"Really? You mean it?" the both of you were blushing hard at this point, him thinking about how he could have possibly screwed this up and you thinking about how this could possibly get any better.

"I-I mean, only if you want to, you really don't have to feel pressured, I know I said I would take it as paiment, but honestly spending time with you was enough of a payme-" grabbing his face in your hands you turned him to look at you, shutting off his ramblings with the movement and shutting off his brain with your words

"I would love to"