#that's for me to know and you to judge :P

[barleyo]

All Eyes on You.

Amir x F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i wish amir was more popular. he's so sweet, but maybe i'm just biased towards divas like him. reblogs and comments are appreciated, i hope you enjoy <3

Tags: stern praise, slight manhandling, p in v, mentions of insecurity, mirror sex

Wordcount: ~0.6k

While he had let you get away with it the first couple of times, Amir was anything but stupid. When you asked to stay under the covers the first time you both made love, he assumed you were just nervous. He agreed and slipped under the duvet with you. When you brought up blindfolds, he thought you were spicing it up a bit. 

He started to get tipped off to what was going when you seemed to avoid any situation that allowed him to see you fully. He was hesitant to bring it up. He never wanted to push you, but it was killing him to think you were so insecure about how your body looked. He kept quiet.

Until you asked him to turn all the lights out before he bedded you. He paused in the doorframe and stared at you, thick eyebrows pinched together in vexation. 

Amir huffed loudly, arms crossing over his chest. "Why?"

"Why?" you echoed, feeling small under the scrutiny of his glare. You felt judged, but not in the way you feared it. You felt him picking you apart under his gaze, ripping into your insecurity and discomfort.

"Yes, why?" He passed the room's threshold and closed the door behind him, leaning against it while he waited for you to explain yourself to him. "Why do you keep asking me to blind myself?" 

Dramatic, yes, of course he was, but he was extremely serious.

You bit your lip. You knew that if you told him your were dissatisfied with how you looked, he'd be more offended than anything else. You also knew that if you lied, he would be able to see right through you. You were torn.

"Well?" he asked, impatiently pouting while he waited for an answer.

Might as well be truthful, you thought. Huge mistake on your part.

Your cheeks were uncomfortably smushed at this point. It started to hurt a bit, but the pleasure you were getting made it worth it. 

"Who's that pretty girl I see?" Amir adjusted your face again, keeping your eyes firmly trained on your reflection in the mirror in front of you. His hand kept your cheeks squished together, lips poured out. "Go on. Pretty girls deserve to be kissed, right?"

You shuddered as he pressed you forward with his weight, cock pushing into the hilt, making you kiss your own reflection. You would feel embarrassed being bent over on the floor and forced to stare at yourself if it didn't feel so good. Your eyes dipped upwards on the mirror to look at Amir. He was completely invested in you, eyes boring into the back of your head and your reflection.

"Unh-uh," he corrected you again, tilting you head forward. "Don't look at me. Look at yourself."

You did. You cringed slightly at the sight. You looked a mess. Hair out of place, drool pricking the sides of your lips, eyes glazed over. Your tits and tummy jiggled beneath you with each of Amir's thrusts. 

"Fucking gorgeous," he said with a deep groan, fingers running through your hair and gently gripping a handful. He noticed the slight grimace on your face. "Why must you do this to me, azizam? Don't you know how rejecting your own beauty hurts me so?"

You felt a hint of guilt creep up on you, but your self-consciousness was a strong barricade. 

"No matter," Amir said, yanking your head back to look at him. "We'll stay here all night if we have to. If you can't see how beautiful you are, I'll show you myself."

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Very specific frev stuff that if I had a nickel for every time it happened I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

Danton boasting about having sex with his wife every night

The word virtue made Danton laugh; he didn’t have a more solid virtue, he said amusingly, than the one which he did every night with his wife. How could a man, to whom every idea of morality was foreign, be the defender of liberty?  Robespierre’s notes against the dantonists, written somewhere in March 1794 and published in 1841

Danton in the chamber of the accused: Me a conspirator? I f… my wife everyday. My name is attached to all revolutionary institutions, the revolutionary army, revolutionary committee, Committee of Public Safety, Revolutionary Tribunal.  Notes de Topino-Lebrun, juré au Tribunal révolutionnaire de Paris sur le procès de Danton et sur Fouquier-Tinville, written during Danton’s trial in 1794 and published for the first time 1875.

Pétion being forced to share a bed with another revolutionary

We went up to the upper rooms; the sentries were immediately posted at all the doors. The King, the Queen, Madame Elisabeth, the Prince, Madame [Royale], Madame de Tourzel had supper together, Messrs. Maubourg, Barnave, Dumas and I had supper in another apartment; we made our dispatches for the National Assembly, I went to bed at three o'clock in the morning; Barnave came to sleep in the same bed. I was already asleep. We got up at five o'clock. Voyage de Pétion au retour de Varennes, cited in Mémoires inédits de Pétion et Mémoires de Buzot & de Barbaroux (1866) page 196.

This man, whose name must be recorded here, Baptiste Troquart, with the only means of existence provided by difficult work, did not hesitate to brave the dangers, to help proscribed deputies. […] We learned from his own mouth all the precautions, all the tricks that had to be used, all the fatigue that had to be braved for their first needs: the details were touching. We also visited the asylum of the poor (Buzot’s expression). “There, he told us, Buzot and Pétion slept; they occupied my bed; here, on mattresses, rested Barbaroux; there we cooked together; in this old armchair sat Pétion.” Preface to Mémoires sur la Révolution française , par Buzot, député a la Convention nationale, précédés d'un précis de sa vie et de recherches historiques sur les Girondins (1828), page 17-18.

A 34 year old unmarried sister of a prominent revolutionary openly wishing for Robespierre’s death in the spring of 1794

”But since they want your head, take, if necessary, theirs, remember that, without you, Robespierre will very quickly be swallowed up himself. My brother told me the day before his death that he was only good at making speeches, that he understood nothing about government, and that he would lose his head at the first crisis. If he abandons you, his friend, you, the man of August 10, he is only a villain; he must perish. Collect your thoughts for an hour, and mount the rostrum: change the committees; proscribe them if necessary.” Albertine Marat to Danton at the eve of his arrest, anecdote published in Histoire de la Révolution française (1850) by Nicolas Villiaumé, volume 4, page 41. Villiaumé had gotten into contact with Albertine Marat before her death, so it’s most likely she herself who is the origin of this anecdote.

”…I loved [Maximilien] tenderly, I still do… His excesses are the consequence of the domination under which he groans, I am sure of it, but knowing no way to break the yoke he has allowed himself to be placed under, and no longer able to bear the pain and the shame of to see my brother devote his name to general execration, I ardently desire his death as well as mine. Judge of my unhappiness! Charlotte Robespierre in May 1794, according to La Révolution, la Terreur, le Directoire, 1791-1799: d'après les Mémoires de Gaillard, ancien président du Directoire exécutif de Seine-et-Marne, conseiller en cassation (1909), p. 263.

A revolutionary describing someone they actually knew during their childhood as a child in order to justify their recent shenanigans

You (Pétion) have told me (Robespierre) twenty times that Brissot was a child, and that is the common word of the coterie, when it comes to explaining certain rather strong mischievous acts that he is accused of. Réponse de Maximilien Robespierre à Jérôme Pétion (November 1792)

Robespierre: Camille's writings are to be condemned, without a doubt; but it is nevertheless important to distinguish the person from his works. Camille is a spoiled child who had a happy disposition, but who was led astray by bad company. We must crack down on his numbers, which Brissot himself would not have dared to admit, and keep Desmoulins among us. Robespierre at the Jacobins, January 7 1794

Lucile Desmoulins predicting Marie-Antoinette’s fate

O woman, cruel woman, woman unworthy of the sun that shines on you, what, shall not celestial vengeance burst entirely on your head, will you triumph? Go, the day may not be far off when all the evils you cause will fall on you! You will groan then, but it will be too late! We won’t complain! Fear the example of queens who, like you, have done evil! See: some perished in misery, others were sent to the scaffold. This may be the fate that awaits you… Lucile in her diary, summer 1789

If destiny had placed me on the throne, if I was queen, and, having brought pain to my subjects, a just death for my crimes had been prepared for me, I wouldn’t wait for the moment when an unrestrained population came to tear me from my palace to drag me unworthily to the foot of the scaffold, I would prevent their blows, I say, and would like by dying to impose them on the entire universe. I would have a large enclosure prepared in a public place, I would have a stake erected there and barriers surrounding it, and three days before my death I would let the people know my intentions. At the back of the enclosure and opposite the stake I would erect an altar. During these three days I would go to the foot of this altar to pray to the great master of the universe, on the third day I would like all my mourning family to accompany me to the stake, this ceremony would take place at midnight by light torches. Short story by Lucile titled ”What I would do if I were in her place,” first cited in Les Autographes et le goûts des autographes en France et à l’entranger (1865) page 301-302.

A revolutionary courting a girl before contributing to the execution of her older sibling

Robespierre, if you are not a tiger with a human face, if the blood of Camille has not inebriated you to the point that you’ve lost your reason entirely, if you remember our evenings of intimacy, if you remember the carrasses you lavished on little Horace, that you delighted to hold him upon your knee, if you remember that you were to have been my son-in-law, spare an innocent victim. Letter from Annette Duplessis to Robespierre, the day her daughter Lucile Desmoulins gets sentenced to death by the Revolutionary Tribunal

Fouché had shown the most ardent patriotism, the most sacred devotion since the beginning of the revolution. My brother, who believed him sincere, had accorded him his friendship and his esteem; he spoke to me of him as a proven democrat, and introduced him to me in praising him and asking me to give him my esteem. Fouché, after having been introduced to me by my brother, came to see me assiduously, and had those regards and attentions that one has for a person in whom one is particularly interested. Fouché was not handsome, but he had a charming wit and was extremely amiable. He spoke to me of marriage, and I admit that I felt no repugnance for that bond, and that I was well enough disposed to accord my hand to he whom my brother had introduced to me as a pure democrat and his friend. I did not know that Fouché was only a hypocrite, a swindler, a man without convictions, without morals, and capable of doing anything to satisfy his frenzied ambition. He knew so well how to disguise his vile sentiments and his malicious passions in my eyes as in my brother’s, that I was his dupe as well as Maximilien. I responded to his proposition that I wanted to think about it and consult my brother, and I asked him the time to resolve myself. I spoke of it, effectively, to Robespierre, who showed no opposition to my union with Fouché.   Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834) page 122-123. Charlotte places the courtship in the midst of the revolution, which can hardly be accurate given the fact Fouché was already married by then, but it does sound likely for it to have happened somewhere between 1788 and 1790, when both of them were unmarried and lived in Arras.

Danton crying over the fate of the girondins 

I could not convince myself that among all those who, since May 31, had retained great popularity, there was not one who did not still retain a little humanity, and I went to Danton. He was ill, it only took me two minutes to see that his illness was above all a deep pain and a great dismay at everything that was coming. ”I won't be able to save them (the girondins)”, were the first words out of his mouth, and, as he uttered them, all the strength of this man, who has been compared to an athlete, was defeated, big tears strolled down his face, whose shapes could have been used to represent that of Tartarus. […] When the fate reserved for the twenty-two [girondins] seemed inevitable, Danton already heard, so to speak, his death sentence in theirs. All the strength of this triumphant athlete of democracy succumbed under the feeling of the crimes of democracy and its disorders. He could only talk about the countryside, he was suffocating, he needed to escape from men in order to be able to breathe.  Memoirs of the revolution; or, an apology for my conduct, in the public employments which I have held (1795) by Dominique-Joseph Garat, p. 233-234, 241.

Danton was in Arcis in the month of November 1793. One day, when he was walking in his garden with M. Doulet, a third person came towards them, walking with great steps and holding a paper in his hand (it was a journal). As soon as he could make himself heard he cried out: ”Good news! Good news!” and approached them.  ”What news?” said Danton.  ”Here, read! The girondins have been condemned and executed,” responded the person that had just arrived.  ”And you call this good news, you wretch?” cried Danton in his turn, Danton whose eyes immediately got filled with tears. ”The death of the girondins good news? Wretch!” ”Without a doubt,” responded his interlocuteur, ”weren’t they factious?   ”Factious,” said Danton. Aren’t we factious? We all deserve death just as much as the girondins, we will all suffer, one after the other, the same fate as them.”  Mémoire écrit en 1846 par les deux fils de Danton le conventionnel, pour détruire les accusations de vénalité portées contre leur père, cited in Danton, mémoire sur sa vie privée(1865) by Jean François Eugène Robinet, p. 277-278. Danton’s sons claimed to have obtained this anecdote from the son of the M. Doulet mentioned in it.

[velvet-paradox]

Fruitful

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: Vessel x Female reader Summary: Vessel wants to do something for you after a long week, what he doesn't realize is he might have made things worse? or not. Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW, 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, established relationship, detailed smut, oral ( m and female), protected p in v, unprotected p in v, can't cum to CAN cum to FORCED cum, consensual of course, oh look a demon! impregnate talk, detailed smut.

ENJOY!!!

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The little hairs all over Vessel's bodies bristled when he heard you knocking at his door, he'd just finished setting the scene in his bedroom just up the creaky stairs and to the left. He'd actually decorated the entire place for a fun little experience he knew you would thoroughly enjoy. You were into some dark and stormy, somewhat filthy side of things when it came time to play with your lover of several months. He'd tasted something so bright and wonderful when he was with, or inside of you, that he knew deep down he would never truly recover from.

When you found out he'd kept his molars after getting them extracted a young man, your eyes practically glistened, you begged to see them, shook them about in the little glass jar he'd saved them with awe and wonder. You had suggested maybe, if you two were in fact going to be this shade of exclusive, that wearing each others blood in vials would be the dream. To have a piece, a real piece of one another with them always would be the ultimate worship.

Knife play, light stalking (he'd send you texts when you least expected them about fixing your posture, don't go to that Five Guys, don't forget to fill up the gas tank before work, set your alarm) drove you wild, the thought of him watching you, correcting you, being the driving force for what you did about your day. You were one of a kind to the frontman and he loved every waking moment of it.

He was sure you would love this little surprise as he came down the stairs at your quick knocks.

"Vess, it's me."

He smiled behind the door, hand on the knob before he answered. "I know, darling. But before I let you inside, I must confess I have done something."

"Good or bad?"

He chuckled and undid the latch. "It's good. At least I hope it's a good surprise anyway."

"Well let me in so I can judge it for myself, I'm getting wet!"

Vessel hoped that were true though he knew what you meant as the rain pelted his stoop. He opened the door finally and you damn near jumped into the doorway, pulling down your splotched hoodie and jeans. You shook your head and smiled at him. He felt like sugar when you looked at him like he was your safety net, as if he could save you.

He wanted to and he hoped you felt the same.

"Hi."

"Hi." He grabbed the back of your head and went in for a kiss, smiling against your lips before you opened your eyes to look around the familiar entryway.

"Well, someone's been busy!" you said, tucking yourself into his said, he didn't mind a little dampness, looking around. Vessel, in a ll of his thoughtfulness, had gotten carried away some red and white rose petals, scattering them around the bottom of the stairs, leading up to the second floor. LED candles flicker on each step, methodically placed as Vessel was quite anal about his place and things. "What's the occasion, babe?"

"Nothin'. I knew you had a rough week and I thought, since we're together all weekend, that something like this might cheer you up a bit. Did it?"

You title your head up, voice watery when you replied. "Very much so. I fuckin' love you."

"I love you too," he pressed his lips to your temple, assaulting your head and temple with lighter kisses, "but this is not all the work I've done."

"Oh no? there's more?"

"I've also done something to the bedroom."

"The bedroom, hmmm? what'd you do this time?" You quirked an eyebrow, matching his smiled before he gave you his hand and you both ran up the stairs.

"You really are a menace, Vess." You said with your hands on your hips, walking around his rather spacious bedroom. Everything was in its' place, no laundry stacked in a chair or left in a heap on the floor, he was very tidy like that. His room laid out with more rose petals but there was more to it than that.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I do! I just… you put in all this effort; because of a meme." You burst out laughing.

There, beside his bed on the hard wood floor, he'd drawn out with a bit of chalk, the shape of a hexagram of sorts he'd seen online.

"You send me that damn Bride of Chucky meme of the 'cute goth girlfriend can do whatever she wants to me' like every other week!" Vessel joined in on your laughter, seeing more of those candles laid around it in a circle.

"I didn't think you'd actually re-create it." You laughed. "Well don't just stand there, silly, get down on the ground so I can practice some spells on you."

Vessel was a good sport, letting you lay him down across the signet, while you held up an LED candle and chanted some junk you made up. The thing about this little act was that he would in fact let you practice spells on him. He was already devoted to you, why not give you his soul as well?

Afterward you playfully wiggled your eyebrows over to him, holding out your hand to him to get up and stand on the mock symbol with you. He circled his arms around you, gently, lovingly pressing you chest to chest before going in for another smooch. You bristled as if you might've felt the same goosebump inducing reaction he'd just felt. Or maybe you two were just full of adrenaline of not having seen each other all week, busy schedules, not enough time to drive out to the see the other as much as you'd liked, you two FaceTimed every night but being with each other finally felt so damn good.

"Are you ready to worship with me?"

….

You wiggled under his touch, fingertips lightly drumming against your ribs as he mouthed over your slowly revealed body, your hoodie, shirt and pants piled off the side of the bed as he laid between your legs. He licked and blew on your skin making you sigh, grab at his hair in satisfaction, arch into his ministrations. He dug his pretty teeth into your flesh, chomping down on your hips before spreading them to torture you some more.

His mouth on you wasn't enough, you needed him, Vessel knew that by the way you were moving and sounding and dragging him to where you needed him most. He kissed over your thighs, pinching them playfully, laughing when you whined and bucked against him.

He made sure he had enough spit on his tongue, flattened it to show you when you popped up on your elbows a bit, to slowly lick up a stripe up the seam of your cunt. You groaned, making him deliciously happy inside, he was humping his groin into the mattress as the candles flickered.

He eventually let you have some reprieve from his wanton mouth and precise licks, cupping your rear to get rid of those soaked panties. You were leaking all over his mouth, not coming just yet though you were quite close as you had stated with your little shouts and mewls. His first two fingers slid into your hole easily, coating them as you called out again. He fingered you nice and slow, twisting his wrist just so.

"Oh god!"

Vessel hummed and switched tactics, telling you what a good girl you were, how nice you felt, how he could tell you wanted and needed just a little more pressure to get you out of your head. Him sucking on your swollen clit should have done you in, made you dizzy with desire and as you whined and grabbed his shoulders and face, bucking into his mouth….

"FUCK!"

"What? what's wrong?" He asked, looking up at you with shiny eyes and a wet mouth.

"I lost it," you huffed and covered your face. "I was right there, dammit."

"It's ok, you've been stressed out all week, might just take you a minute to concentrate and get where you need to be, ya' know?"

"I almost came twice already," you groaned, hooking your legs over his shoulder a bit more, putting a pillow behind your hips might help.

"Try it again, really finger fuck me."

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Vessel said with a grin and dove back into your core, nosily and happily lapping at you as he thrusted his middle two fingers into you, nudging your bundle of nerves with each push and pull.

"There! fuck yes, right there. Almost got it, oh fuck me." You cried out, grabbing at his sheets as you arched off the bed.

"There she is. Atta' girl, you're almost there. I can feel you clenching, you're so hot. Can hear how fuckin' wet you are, my love. Listen."

It was true. You were leaking all over his fingers, the sounds of your desperate pants for that sweet release, that high that was jutting out right at you. For you. You moaned his name, hearing yourself gush for him.

"Fuck… I can do it, I'm gonna'-- it's-- FUCK ME!"

"Did you--"

"No, fuck! I wanna' cum so bad." You sobbed.

"Maybe we should hold off a bit, yeah?" Vessel asked, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"No no no no. I feel really good I just can't right now… hey, get up here and let me you suck you off, maybe that'll help get there."

"If you're sure."

"Let's try it. Been missing your taste all week."

Vessel groaned as you reached out for him, licking your lips as you watched him undo the belt off his jeans, biting your lip when you noticed the rather large pre-cum stain on his boxers. He was incredibly hard and horny for you, something shifted, more than just him and his weight as crawled up your body, careful not to knee you anywhere sensitive. It has happened before.

Vessel stroked his cock over your face before he spread his legs for it to reach your lips. You placed your hands on his hips as he slid his cock into your mouth, groaning instantly. You hummed with delight as he found the right rhythm, slapping your tongue with it, smearing your lips as you kissed the crown of it lightly. A few good slaps to you cheek always got you riled up in the past.

"I love sucking your cock."

"I know. You look so fuckin' good doin' it too."

You giggled and looped your arms around the back of his thighs, easing into his groin again and again.

"Fuck yeah, just like that darlin', take it all the way back-- oh shit, choke on it, choke on it. I'm so close, I'm shoot down your throat, make you swallow all of it. Don't stop!" Vessel was losing his mind over you and your wet mouth, gagging on it, flicking your tongue over the slit, holding his sac. Anything and everything to get him to cum. He was feeling what you were feeling, teetering on the edge as you kept going, twisting the girth of it you couldn't fit.

"Fuck… stop stop."

You pulled off him quickly with a pop, drool and pre-cum pooling at the sides of your mouth and down your neck. "You ok, baby?"

"I can't cum either. Fuck."

"What is wrong with us?" You whined, still holding his cock by your mouth, the breath of you sending shivers up his spine.

"We might be too in our heads about it, I felt like I was about to bust but… no dice, hon." Vessel sighed and got off you, laying back. "How about we try 69?"

"You wanna' keep going?"

"Duh! I want us both to feel good, I missed you."

"I missed you too, grab the condoms then."

You paused mid-reach over him to the night stand, "Condoms? as in… plural?"

"I'm fucking your brains out this weekend, darlin'!"

You squealed and grabbed the protection.

You threw your head back as you sunk down on him, wiggling and shifting your hips to accommodate for his impressive size. You let out a huff. "Every damn time, how?"

You placed your hands on his chest for stability before you started to move and find your pace. Nothing too fast, nothing too slow either. Circling your hips, leaning forward to kiss him, Vessel's hands sliding up from your thighs to under your ribs, holding your neck. The build-up, the want and need to climax together made you both itchy and desperate.

"You feel amazing." He praised against your lips, his cock slipping with the amount of slick you'd produced, you could hear yourself once more along with the slaps of skin on skin, matching moan for moan.

"So do you baby, love when I can feel you throbbing inside me," you clenched your walls at the last word on propose, his nails found purchase dragging down your back. "Fuck we sound so good."

"And look even better." Vessel rasped, his bedroom voice making you weak and slide down, hugging his form when he wrapped those long arms around you. He started bucking up into you, planting his feet for a faster pace.

…..

You on top didn't equate to either of you coming. Missionary either. Just veering off the edge of this escaping climax was driving you both mad and wild. You couldn't reach the peak.

"Why can't we fucking cum?" You shouted when he pulled out, your pussy empty but ready.

"Are we thinking too much? maybe it's the symbol." He pointed to the floor then, making you curious.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe this whole scene I set up for is throwing us off our game," he shook his head, looking down at it. He had only briefly looked up a similar design that wouldn't exactly open a portal to the occult, but he didn't do much studying. It was just for funsies after all.

Right?

"Fuck it," you said with a huff and rolled over onto your front, spreading your legs, bent at the knee towards the sky and able to grabbed your ankles. "Just do it."

"Just do what?"

You rolled your head to see him. "Just raw dog me."

"What? are you serious?"

"Baby if I don't cum I may commit a god damn crime now take that thing off and fuck me."

Vessel snorted and patiently took of the spent protection, chucked it in the trash and lined himself up. "You're sure?"

"Please I can't take another-- fuck yes!" you practically shrieked, risk waking the neighbors! Fucking you raw was something he'd thought about a lot lately, nothing to stop him from finally giving you a well deserved creampie. God the look of his cum leaking and pooling out of you had him rock hard as he surged forward, fucking down into you, hard and fast. With your hands out of the way, Vessel began to thrust harder once he placed his on your shoulder blades. Keep you down as you cried out for 'more, more, faster, faster'. He'd never felt anything like it, it was like your pussy was absorbing him in, collecting him, threatening to drain him dry. He moaned when he hit that certain spot, the bed creaking, sounds of skin, breathing, the slap of his hand moving up to grip the headboard to fuck you harder.

"Oh my god, right there. Oh god Vess… I think that's it… oh fuck ohfuckohfuckohfu--" you stopped breathing for five whole seconds until Vessel, in a panic slapped your ass to get you back to normal.

"Breathe baby, breathe. God I can feel you flooding around me!"

"Holy shit, I have never cum so hard in my life." You sputtered through a fit of laughter.

"I can feel myself getting closer too, let me pull out, I wanna see that pretty face." Vessel let you catch your breath, backing his heaving chest from your back. Easing his way out… out…

"You can pull out now."

"I can't."

"What? Vessel that's not funny."

"Do you hear me laughing, love? I seriously can't."

"Pull out!" your voice was panicked as you let your legs fall back to the bed, looking over your shoulder.

"I can't!"

"You do know that's how this works right?" A low gravely voice sounded in the room that didn't erupt from either of you. You both turned your head to where he'd drawn the symbol, in a cloud of smoke there hovering above it was some sort of entity with no face, in a white and gold cloak. It tilted it's head when you screamed, Vessel covered your body in shock.

"Jesus!"

"Not quite." It replied.

"What are you-- how did you-- what--"

"It appears I have been summoned," it spread out its hands or claws or both at the same time, below. "This happens to belong to me; this is my sigil."

"Vess… you actually summoned something!"

"I am not just something, my dear. I am the demon of fertility. Why do you think you couldn't reach your full desire? you two have to do it, together. That's how this works, you see. Until you fully consummate this union of yours, you two will be stuck together. Forever."

"FOREVER?!"

"That is a very long time, my dear." The demon shrugged. "It's up to you."

"Vess…"

"I know darlin'… just uh--"

"Just do it, we'll go get Plan B in the morning."

Vessel paused, opening and closing his mouth before leaning into your ear. Words he'd thought about but never voiced were now getting their time in the sun.

"You would uh you'd get rid of it?"

You moved your head to look at him perched there on your shoulder. "I mean… would you wanna' keep it?" You asked.

"I'll admit I've had thoughts, that maybe one day. I am never going to be this in love again with anyone else, I only want you and that would only change, to somehow love you more if you were full of me. Carrying our child. A product of our love."

"Are you serious?" you asked and he nodded quietly, pressing a kiss to your arm. "You'd want to be a parent with me?" The way both of your eyes lit up with anticipation for your very first (and of many until it took) creampie, the fertility demon cleared it's throat and told you to get on with it already.

Your eyes turned up in a glassy smile, voice watery. "Fuck it then, cum inside me."

"You don't have to tell me twice, hold on to the headboard baby." Your fingers pinched the iron frame, his above your own as he picked up again, uncaring the demon hung around, actually applauding when you cried out for more.

Heavy thrusts with even heavier breaths filled the bedroom once more, you matched each other moan for moan, Vessel praising you for taking this all so well. You blossomed around him, sobbing that you were going to cum again, hopefully together.

"Go for it baby, let it out, let it all out. I'm gonna' fill you up, all fuckin' weekend, you're gonna' be so damn full of me. Dripping about the house, as if we'll even be leaving this room or sleeping, I want this so much, I need this so much. Want you want you, I want you so badly."

Vessel grunted and quickened his hips, looping one of his arms around your waist, slipping up to caress your back, holding on to one of your breasts to toy with your nipple to rocket you over.

"That's it! Just… oh Vess please, I'm gonna' cum again holy fuck."

You came just as hard as you did the first time.

"Atta girl!"

Vessel really let you have it, his barks of 'take it, just fucking take it' between gritted teeth. He finally joined you in bliss that felt like falling, ropes after thick rope of his cum shot inside you. Coating your walls, leaking out a bit, he stayed put as he had definitely outdone himself this evening but he did in fact feel himself loosen and detach from your pussy.

"Ah shit, it's still coming out." He gasped and the deity clapped their hands once, stirring you both to look over at its' little wave.

"Well, looks like my job here is done, you have been successful and just so you know, my dear, you are quite fertile, have fun!"

With another puff of smoke the demon floated away like a shadow.

You were still panting when he pulled out completely, enamored by the look of your hole creamy and white with his spend. Images of a life together, a future he could finally look forward to was right there between your cheeks.

You rolled on your back. "Next time babe, look up the right symbol. I prefer not to be watched by another demon deity."

Vessel chuckled and gave you sloppy kiss. "I don't think I am going to be fooling around like that any time soon. One deity is enough!"

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 13

Did a lot today! Also did nothing else today lol. I have legit been at this for somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 to 8 hours. I don't remember when I started but I do remember checking the clock at around 5pm after I'd been at it for awhile, and it is now past 10:30pm. So... yeah. I had fun :D

This is the result of parts 2 and 3 of the tutorial series I'm following (I should probably link those more often). Also I made more trees from part 1 just because I could (and also I wanted the practice, but mostly because I could). I... may have been having too much fun modeling things. The second part of the tutorial was for the non-tree plants, and I did way more than the tutorial called for.

I have six trees, 11 grasses, 4 flowers, and 7 ferns (or whatever those plants are supposed to be). The tutorials only called for three trees, five grasses, four flowers, and six ferns. At least I got the number of flowers right? But, uh, I gave the flowers more colors than I was supposed to and set it up so the bundles of flowers are all different colors instead of all the same. So still did more than I should have :P

The third part of the tutorial series was setting up the environment and getting it ready to spread plants all over it. So we made the ground, the hills in the background, and the sky. The sky I'm most excited about making, because I plan to abuse my sky-making privileges when I go to make the swords finally >:D Actually pretty much everything I learned in these tutorials I'll be using in one way or another for the swords, but being able to make my own sky means I can get ~*fancy*~ with the environments I put the swords in :D

Cinta my beloved your sword is gonna be dope as fuck

[crispycreambacon]

H. Hi everyone. Uh. You know what I don’t need to explain myself. Who needs to watermark your art when you can just draw your sona thristing over the art amirite-

The last two people featured next to me are @madamegemknight (bless her poor soul she had no idea what introducing me to Fraggle Rock would do to me) and @couchpotato1206 (aka my bULLYYYYY /lh)

Bonus images below. Fair warning: Extremely self-indulgent. Coughs.

Note: while I’m a minor as of making this post, my sona here is an adult. Please don’t be weird about this thank you!!!

[itsdappleagain]

day 5: AU!!

i decided to draw my own take on the "paper star and carmen escape VILE together" au that has been floating around in my head for months and has a near incoherent three thousand word brainstorming doc to prove it

i also tried to redesign carmen, who i've decided calls herself cardinal in this au because there is no cookie booker escape with the coat and hat (paper star also influences the name).

i took inspo from harajuku fashion which i think is what PS is designed on also? i figured that since carmen sandiego adopted the first article of clothing she ever put on as her trademark that cardinal would just copy paper stars style and i think thats fun

so anyway. they're messy, they're gay, and they definitely have a big dramatic betrayal where they realize that there was never a future in which they could be together or something like that

[mel-loly]

-Happy Valentine's Day, my love! <3

@manpleblog/@alsomanple

[kalosian-woods]

Hello!!! I don’t know if your taking requests for snippets rn, but would you be able to write something about XY’s mirror world? It is tRAGICALLY underrated and I saw what YIU wrote for it a bit ago and loved it! Thanks if so :DD

Tysm, I'm happy that it resonated with you so well!!! :D It really is an underrated piece of lore from XY, which is part of anipoke's general weirdness about deep mythos that can get dropped but never really delved into, especially as it is considered a 'filler' ep. But hey, my goal is to delve into whatever I can get my hands on within Kalos and so here we are heh.

Going to write up a snippet for you, but beware, very exposition-y. Might as well make the best of both worlds (lol).

__________________________________________________

“A mirror world?”

Ash bit his lip as he watched the ground, seeing a slice of his face on it. It’s strange, hearing her voice without any of the bite. One part of him wished it was there all the same. “Well, this can’t be my world. You’re all so… different.”

The sound of screeching and scratching reached his ears, and he cowered for a moment. This Clemont is more occupied with cold metal, bending it to his will with force that is nowhere on his face or tone, and that is strange too. Back in his world, his Clemont will always be tracking mud from some arcane spell or running race. His face will always be stuck in a proud grin, his mouth always running with some sort of retort or boastful explanation. Ash briefly wondered if his Clemont would believe him about this world.

“So, how are we like in your world, then?” And that’s Bonnie. Or at least, this world’s Bonnie. In his world, she wouldn’t really give him the time of day. She was proud of her role in orbiting her older brother, just as her older brother was proud of his strength and skill.

Ash stuck a finger on the ground, skirting around the reflective surface. “Well, you see, I’m just a new Trainer. I came to Kalos because I heard that I could get stronger there, and that’s where I met all of you.”

Some silence. Then, “So we’re all still travelling with each other in your world?”

I didn’t want to, not really, flashed into his mind at her voice, but Ash forced himself to nod. “You were a strong Trainer. You said you could help me. And, uh, Clemont came around too. He was tired of being in his Gym and wanted to see everything outside, so he took a break and came with us.”

“I did what?!” this Clemont gasped as Bonnie laughed beside him. Ash could slightly detect a sad note behind that.

He shrugged. The inventor, because that’s what he is, picked up the screwdriver he dropped and went back to work. Ash thought he was out of the conversation before he heard a tentative, “So, what kind of Gym? Were we still in Lumiose?”

“You always were.” ‘The perfect place for everyone to see my brilliance!’. “Ground Type. You were fourth in the Gym Challenge.”

“So the order is reversed?” She sounded interested as she sat back. “That must be interesting. Or, since that’s all you know…”

“That’s okay.” Ash didn’t even know what to say to that. It just came out, like instinct. He could feel that questioning look again, and he scratched the ground harder. “You were always interested in the Gym Challenge, even though you said it was too easy. You— I mean, the other Serena. My one. She was very strong. My Clemont said she could be Champion if she put her mind to it.” And some other choice words that none of them needed to know.

“That’s funny.” This Bonnie stuck her tongue out as she thought to herself. “Our Ash is very strong. He’s brave too, and so are his Pokemon, you know, and he’s always sticking around with Pikachu.”

“Really?” Ash couldn’t help it. He hears Pikachu’s name and its like his heart is opening, is open, is ready to receive that love in any shape or form as long as it is yellow and bright and full of electricity and sparking cheeks.

This Bonnie nodded. “Yeah! He’s the one challenging the Gyms here. He didn’t get to challenge Clemont though…”

“That’s because we made a promise!” this Clemont barked out, cheeks going red, and the three shared a small laugh as Ash thought to himself, legs drawn up but slightly lowering as the conversation flows on, fingers free from the ground itself. It was weird that Bonnie was calling her brother by name. Weird that Clemont wouldn’t take on any challenge head-on, and weird that they were all friendly like this.

“Okay, okay, what colour is the sky there?”

“It’s green.”

But it’s nice.

“What Pokemon do you have?”

“Uh, Froakie, Fletchling, and Hawlucha. They’re not really battlers, though.”

It’s warm.

“Then what do you do?”

“Nothing much.”

“C’mon! I’m sure there’s something you like. Oh, oh, can I help find it?”

“I guess…”

Maybe, in a different world, he would belong here. And maybe that version of him… will appreciate it as much as he does. Or at least he hopes so.

This world was so kind. Ash hopes that nothing bad will befall it.

He hopes that this world can keep going on and on, as beautiful as his other friends has made it out. And he hopes that this own world can learn to be kind too, and that maybe he can be kinder as well, and maybe he can be the one to start the change. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

(Clemont adds the final adjustment to the new machine he is building, and the mirror shines with all of their faces on one surface. Ash does not shy away. Even with her in the picture.

This isn’t his group after all. Over here, this is just Serena, and he is just Ash. No crybaby here.)

In a world with a green sky and a cave with jutting mirrors, a Pikachu stands and fights the invaders.

He knows that they are not the heroes of justice. He knows that they are twisted and wrong and bad, but this Pikachu has faced down titans and land-movers and Psychics with powers that no mind can even comprehend, so he will fight and he will not back down.

That Meowth, smarmy and with a backwater accent, calls out, “What’s wrong with you, Pikachu? Aren’t you going to run back to your Trainer?”

He briefly remembers those tears in those brown eyes. He shakes his head and roars, a sharp, scratchy sound, a sound that has cowed the creator himself. That Meowth winces, and the humans step up, glints in their eyes that betrays a hunger like no other.

“Who cares about the Twerp? Let’s just catch him now, while we still can!” The woman swings over the device, such a strange contraption for villains wearing the face of heroes that prefer action with their own two hands, and he slams it down with Iron Tail. They grimace, and then try again, and again.

Pikachu will not back down. Pikachu will fight, because his Trainer cannot do it alone and he is all his Trainer has left.

And so he attacks and attacks and attacks until he has no more.

And when they reach towards him, black gloves so foreign on their familiar hands, he bites and scratches and buys time. He will make it hard for them, because the world is hard and he is hard and his Ash is so soft, too soft, and so Pikachu will do anything for him.

Anything.

And so he does not give up the fight. Even as they push him inside the device. Even as they crow that his electricity will not penetrate it, because his powers has challenged skies and space and Pikachu will be with Ash and that is a promise.

And Pikachu does not break his promise.

[the-weeping-dawn]

'Sorry,' I had to hold a small laugh back, already forgetting what the last pieces they'd attempted to explain to me were, 'so when you said that you were just like me, to directly quote here...' I could see a vein along the long semi-exposed brain twitch in irritation that I was continuing to not even so much touch a piece to require it to be explained yet again, <'I am not sure what part of it is still unclear.' > I leaned back on to the back legs of the seat, holding the wine glass in the deep blue tendrils from my mouth, gesturing to the city around us <'Only one of us managed a city, Baldur.'> They grabbed the glass away in their own tentacle, using another to hold me steady as the chair fell, <'It's hardly something beyond you.'> I took a moment to collect my thoughts, ready to have made them defensive about the switch of names, less ready for the compliment. <'Chances are we're going to be forced to see soon enough, anyway, what was this piece called again?'>

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[albonium]

with the things i'm seeing on twitter it's making me scared so i'll say it here too because there has to be young people following me:

having sex with someone who has a penis and not using a condom means you could catch diseases but also get pregnant. someone pulling out before they ejaculate isn't making it safe. it's not a way to prevent diseases or pregnancies. timing unprotected sex with menstrual cycles/using your body temp is not a way to avoid pregnancy. you can still get STIs if you used a condom. oral sex isn't safe you can get STIs including HIV. condoms can break or slip off and that can be enough to cause all the things mentionned.

get tested regularly, talk to your doctor you're not the first one or the last one to have sex and talk to them about it there's nothing to be ashamed of

[the-kneesbees]

yk I felt really bad about this whole thing at first but looking back I think maybe I dodged a bullet

[digijosify]

Shoutmon tries asking in dogeza

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˖𐙚 Perfect Little Doll.

Short Summary: Tom Riddle is quite laid-back when it comes to you—but under the effect of a Lust Potion, he just takes what he wants—however he wants.

Warnings: 18+ only! consensual non consent. somno, sex under the effect of a lust potion, rough sex, choking, unprotected p in v, sex with little to no prep, creampie

A/N: I got the highest grade possible for my thesis, you get filthy smut! Win-win.

wordcount: 1,2k

“No, stay— stay like this.”

It’s the first thing you hear when you stir awake in the middle of the night. You try to move—but something, or rather someone, is making sure you have no choice but to stay trapped beneath them.

“Please, no—“ panic rises in your chest as you struggle under their weight—but it’s no use.

“Shh. It’s me. Be good and stay still.”

This time, you recognize the voice, and you exhale a shuddering breath, relaxing just slightly.

It’s Tom.

Lying on your front, you don’t get to meet his expression, hell, you don’t even get to fucking ask what he’s doing—

Because you already feel him pressing against your entrance, tip hot and flushed, leaking with need—and with a single, measured thrust, he pushes inside. Deep.

“Fuck—“ you shriek at the sudden, stinging stretch. “Tom, that hurts!”

As you reach behind you, trying to push him away, give you time to adjust, he instantly pins your wrists to your back.

“I know— fuck, I know.” He grumbles, yet shows no intent to stop. Instead, he pulls out, pushing back inside immediately—drawing another sharp gasp from you. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You don’t know exactly what’s gotten into him. Yes, you both agreed upon this, that he could use you when you were asleep—and that you could tell him to stop whenever you actually wanted to—but never had he been this eager.

“Tom, please—“ you try again, whimpering at the burning, unrelenting stretch. His hand finds its way into your hair, lifting your head slightly just to push you into the pillow beneath you—muffling your whines.

His hips rock forward once more, testing, trying how much you can take.

“You will be quiet and take it, alright? Be a good girl for me?” He mumbles, voice coming out raspy, laced with need. He withdraws then, only halfway this time—

Just to snap his hips forward again, tip harshly ramming against your sensitive cervix—a feeling that has you biting your lips so hard, you taste blood.

“God, Tom!” You yelp, hips involuntarily bucking against his in an attempt to free yourself—but it only results in him slipping deeper, drawing a low groan from the brunette.

Slowly, he starts rolling his hips against yours, still buried deep, brows furrowed, breathing heavily through his slightly parted lips at just how tight you feel around him.

Finally, his hand leaves your hair, allowing you to inhale a deep breath—lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you do. Just a mere second later, it’s wrapped around your neck instead, pushing you down once more.

He’s got you exactly how he likes you—one leg angled to your side, his body trapping yours between him and the bed, fingers pressing into your pulse point, enough to make you feel light-headed. Hips flush with yours, ass pressed against his pelvis—it makes his head spin. He needs to have you, take you—now.

“Slipped me this potion— told me it was for sobering up— fuck, sweetheart, you’re tight.” He groans, a deep, low sound somewhere from the back of his throat, feeling him twitch inside you.

It all comes crashing down onto you. Why he is like this.

They made him drink a Lust Potion.

Judging by the fact that he didn’t even second-guess before downing it—must mean he’s had a decent amount of drinks as well.

All of that, combined with the effects of the potion—turned him into this.

You don’t get to think about the situation for much longer and what you could do to ease the effects—the slow drag of his cock against your walls as he starts thrusting into you efficiently short-circuiting your brain.

He doesn’t ease you into it. After one or two thrusts, he picks up his pace, hips snapping against yours as though it’s the last time he gets to have you.

Tom usually isn’t the most vocal. Yes, he enjoys it—loves it, even—when he can pin you down and fuck you into the mattress until you are begging for him to let you come. But, just like outside of your sacred four walls, he likes to keep his composure—even during the most intimate acts.

In short: he hates losing control.

But now—he’s moaning, whimpering even at how sensitive he is—at how good and warm you feel, wrapped tightly around him.

It’s making your brain fuzzy. Everything about it. How you are slowly loosening up for him, allowing him to increase his pace, how your own arousal makes it even easier for him to thrust deep.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart.” Tom praises, breathless, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. “Like this pussy was fucking made for me, fitting me like a damn glove—“

And at this point you are praying you would survive this.

His thrusts grow rougher, punishing almost, brushing against your cervix with every single snap of his hips. His hand wraps around your throat, cutting off your airflow once more as he feels himself getting close.

“Fuck, darling— going to let me fill you up, hm? Make you nice and full of me?” He grits out, staying pressed flush against you for a second, making you feel all of him—every vein, every ridge—every. single. inch.

You nod as best as you can, clenching down tight around him.

“Please Tom, please fill me up— need it, fuck—“

He groans at that, cursing under his breath.

“Good girl. Such a perfect little doll, all nice and pliant for me—“

It’s not long until his pace falters, hips stuttering against your own—and he groans lowly as he starts spilling deep inside of you, coating your walls with his warm release.

He collapses on top of you—breathing heavily against your neck, chest heaving—and although your mind is still hazy with your own pleasure, your thoughts drift back to what happened before he returned to your home.

Knowing them, you guess it’s Rosier and Mulciber who did it. Probably thought it was hilarious, too.

You aren’t sure if you should feel bad for the fact that you don’t know what Tom would come up with as punishment.

Because hell—they are not the ones who have to put up with him like this.

Meanwhile, Tom is still buried deep, keeping his release right where it belongs—but then, when his breathing returns to normal, he gives you the slightest roll of his hips—

“Said it would take three hours to wear off—“

And you already feel him growing hard again.

Fuck, you are screwed.

“Tom, please—“

He shushes you with a kiss on top of your head.

“No. Stay— need you— need you again.” He rasps, back to thrusting into you, fucking his cum even deeper as he’s back chasing his next climax. And you? You are right there with him, on the precipice of your own orgasm.

Merlin fucking help you.

If he won’t kill them for this, you might just do it yourself.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[enimaximus]

note to self: NEVER look at your boyfriend's spotify playlists, you'll find way less good than bad, and if you want to know why, look at the tags.

[tojicide]

SNIPER, SNIPER! ☆ LEON KENNEDY

summary. in leon’s line of work as a contract killer, weaknesses weren’t an option. luckily, he’d eliminated his… all except for one.

warnings. fem!reader, hitman!leon, ex!leon, re4 leon intended. discussion of murder, guns, bullets, etc. a loooot of blissful ignorance, porn with some plot, pet names, oral sex ( fem. receiving ), face sitting, missionary, unprotected p in v, creampie. wc. 5.3k.

note. i tend to fuck up a nice “ex who is a raging munch” fic or two saurrrr this is basically my staple now

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Leon isn’t sure why he’s here.

He hasn’t ever bid on a target as sought after as the one that he has now acquired. The target was only described as someone who simply ‘knows too much’ about something they shouldn’t. Vague, he thinks, especially because they remained nameless, genderless, and description-less otherwise. It was odd, for sure, but it was the highest contract that he had ever come by.

As a matter of fact, he’s positive that it’s the highest contract that anyone in his position has ever seen, let alone signed. He’s sure that he’s ruffled a bit of feathers by taking on the job, especially considering that he was still considered fresh meat among the other hitmen that he was distantly familiar with.

Leon preferred to stay out of the unusual politics that came with the underground world, and that meant taking on the jobs that no one deemed urgent enough to complete.

(Plenty of drug dealers, a few sketchy nightclub owners, and an awful bunch of politicians who he is 99% sure put the bounty on their own heads to avoid the scandal that was unearthed about each of them no less than two weeks after they were found with bullets in their brains. He preferred those hits. All men, all guilty of something.)

Nevertheless, he finds himself here, perched on the rooftop of an upscale bar with his sniper rifle angled over the ledge. His scope was perfectly aligned with the entrance of the night club across the street, his right eye narrowed while the other was completely shut.

He sighs, tapping onto his earpiece to communicate with his teammate that was a few buildings over. Alexander.

(Alexander was a tech-nut. He was responsible for ensuring that the coast was clear, that there weren’t an abundance of cops in the area, and that security cameras of the establishment were looped continually in order to ensure that no one could suspect anything more than someone being at the wrong place at the wrong time.)

“Reread the target description that was left for me,” Leon quietly commands.

“Aaand what’s the magic word?”

He heavily sighs. For a job like this, he figured that working alone would be the best option, but with the more he learned, the more experience he gained, the people he met—he was proven wrong. A team works more efficiently than a single person, even if the other half of his current team was a bit… annoying.

“Don’t piss me off,” he huffs, shaking his head as he closes one eye to look through the scope again.

Leon can practically hear Alexander’s grin on the other end of the line as he speaks. “Alright, man, jeez. Your g-string must be a bit too tight tonight, but that’s alright, I’m in no place to judge you.”

Before the blonde can even react to that unsettling quip, Alexander continues speaking, only this time, he does what Leon asks of him. “Bounty, bounty, bounty… where is the darn thing? Oh yes, here it is. Okay, it says that the target will be wearing a blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks tonight…. and that’s it.”

Leon hums, mulling over the very few words that were left for him by the person who had posted the contract in the first place. He’d never killed someone based on the description of an outfit alone,  but then again, he’s never gotten paid this much for sending a bullet through a random guy’s skull. He’ll take it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, turning off his ear piece to drown out the voice of the male on the other end.

It feels like hours pass by in which all he does is stare at the entrance, watching as each attendee leaves the establishment periodically. Each time he saw the color red, he’d perk up, only to find that they were wearing jeans, or they were wearing a white blazer, which only left him feeling more annoyed as time went on.

And then, the door opens. He can practically feel the air flee his lungs as he taps onto his earpiece out of instinct. A blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks.

“Ooh. Pretty. We guessed wrong, didn’t we?” Alexander speaks through the earpiece, which causes Leon to raise a brow.

“What’re you…” his voice trails. His blood runs cold, his palms begin to sweat, and his eyes blow wide. “Holy… fuck.”

“I know right? Not only is she a woman, but she’s miiiighty fine,” his teammate speaks, his voice oddly humorous for the given situation. A moment of silence passes, and Alexander continues to talk, but he can’t hear a damn word.

Leon freezes like a deer in headlights as he watches you emerge from the dim nightclub with a man’s arm slung around your shoulder, though that hardly taints how angelic you look tonight.

Your hair frames your face so beautifully, so soft and feminine. The tip of your nose was flushed given the crisp night air that you’ve just stepped into, your smile was wide and toothy as you walked beside a man that he didn’t recognize.

You’re gorgeous, is all he can manage to think right now. It’s the first time he’s seen you since the moment the two of you broke up six months ago, and you look even prettier than when he pictured you each night to fall asleep. He dreamt of you often, but his lovesick mind was no match for imagining the beauty that you possess.

Suddenly, Alexander’s voice pierced through his haze, bringing him back to the current scene. “Earth to Leon? I get it man, she’s pretty, very much so. I’d hit that too if she wasn’t gonna die in like… two secs.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he hisses, his voice sounding just as venomous as he’d intended it to. “You aren’t going to lay a damn finger on her.”

“Woah, buddy. Big talk from the guy with a sniper aimed at her head.”

That is the moment in which everything clicks in the worst way imaginable.

It’s you. His target, the person who knows too much, the one who is supposed to die tonight—it’s you.

And then, he becomes acutely aware of the lines that are obstructing his view of you. His scope. The red dot in the center placed strategically on your temple, the bullet meant just for you waiting for a simple pull of a trigger.

Leon shudders, picking his head up. No. Absolutely not. Completing his task was not even a thought in his mind anymore, not if the target was you. His beautiful, sweet girl.

But he couldn’t leave the scene unscathed. It would raise suspicion, possibly even tie him to you in a way that you didn’t need. If he didn’t fulfill the obligation in some way, someone else would. He’d broken up with you to save you from all of this, and now, he’d unknowingly come here to make you familiar with his lifestyle in the worst way possible.

You were walking away, and it’s then that his trained eyes fall onto the man who has his arm draped over your shoulder in the way he used to all those months ago. His heart aches at the mere sight of you looking so happy in the company of another, but it gives him an idea.

Leon looks through the scope again, and within seconds, a loud gunshot rings through the air in the form of a thundering pop.

His jaw tenses as he hears screaming. They aren’t your screams though, because you’re not hit. They’re coming from the man you were with, because Leon has just lightly grazed his arm with a bullet.

He wasn’t insane. He wasn’t going to be killing anyone tonight, even if he desperately wanted to kick the living shit out of the man who is so close to you.

Well… was close to you. He isn’t anymore. Your date is writhing on the pavement all because of a flesh wound, and you’re standing above him with the most confused and concerned look on your face.

Leon can’t help but think that the man has no regard for you and your safety. For all this mystery man knows, more shots could be coming, and instead of trying to protect you, he’s rolling around on the concrete like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Such a man baby.

“What’re you waiting for? Holy fuck, uh… you still have the shot. Take the shot—”

Leon pulls the earpiece away, turning it off before he shoves it into his back pocket. He didn’t need to be scolded by anyone, let alone someone as useless as his teammate. He’d beat him bloody for how he had spoken about you if he weren’t already packing up his equipment to head over to your place.

He needs to check on you, first and foremost. He also needs to explain himself which was… going to be no easy feat, he supposes.

You don’t find your way home until about an hour later, keys jumbling about as you push it into the slot, twisting it with a tired hand.

To be shot at was not on your agenda for tonight, but being berated by your date for not reacting quick enough to help him evade a bullet you had no knowledge of was certainly not how you wanted to end your night either.

Annoyed, exhausted, and frustrated, you step into your apartment. When you begin to shrug off your coat, your body tenses. No. Fucking. Way.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, your voice rising in octave.

Leon stands from your couch, approaching you with his hands in the air, attempting to show you that he hadn’t come with malice. You knew he hadn't, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him.

“Baby, it’s just me,” he says without thinking, the pet name slipping out before he could have a say in the matter.

“Yeah, I know it’s just you, that’s the problem!” you continue, hanging your coat up on the rack along with your purse. “Are you out of your damn mind? I—”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “I am out of my mind, and you must be out of yours for still keeping your spare key under your doormat. I told you to move it years ago.”

Your brows knit together. “You little— you know what? I’m not even going to entertain that. How about this? You leave, and we forget this happened, yeah?”

“Can’t do that,” he tells you with a shrug, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I need to talk to you.”

“Don’t do this, Leon, not tonight,” you huff, pinching your nose bridge. “I’m not in the mood, alright? I was—”

“Shot at?” he finishes your sentence. He immediately regrets it, pressing his lips into a line to keep himself from saying anything else.

Your demeanor falters at that. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes narrowing as you look at him from where he stands across the room. “How do you know that?”

He takes a moment to answer, his mouth opening without any words coming out. It spikes your frustration, so you speak again. “Damn it, Leon, how do you know that?”

Leon holds his hands up again, pleading his defense before he criminalizes himself entirely. “I was the one behind the gun, but it’s not what you think—”

Your jaw drops. “Not what I think? Not what I think? You tried to kill me!”

He shakes his head, his expression falling. “I didn’t, baby. I swear. Just let me explain, and—”

“You tried to shoot me in the damn neck!” you continue, your hand dramatically clasping into the side of your throat.

Leon closes his eyes for a moment, internally bracing himself for your outburst that he absolutely deserves. He opens them again, simply watching as you spew insults his way. He takes them without any hint of irritation.

“What the hell, Leon? Is that what you do now? You stalk your ex-girlfriend and try to kill her? Not only that, you missed. You missed! That’s almost fucking humorous, because how can you try to do something like that and then miss!”

Leon sighs, waiting for a moment to see if you try to continue, and when you don’t, he speaks instead. “I aimed for his arm, not your neck, or anywhere else that would endanger you—”

“Yeah, and you almost blew his arm off!” You’re more than aware that the statement was dramatic, but you don’t need to have any sense right now.

“It was a flesh wound, he’ll be just fine,” he tells you before he continues with what he was saying before. “And I wasn’t stalking you. Not knowingly, anyway. I would never hurt you. Not ever. Your date was just… collateral. I had no choice.”

He hopes that you don’t ask any more questions about that, because he won’t have any answers for you. It was for the better. All you knew was that his job wasn’t legal. It couldn’t have been, not with the copious amounts of money that rolled in while he hardly worked for half of the month.

The less you knew about what his line of work entailed, the safer you were. The further away you were from him, the safer you were. However, those last words now ring hollow.

“Look…” he whispers, taking a step towards you despite his brain screaming at him to leave. He couldn’t. Not when he was the only one who knew of your compromised position. “I know that much has changed between us. It’s my fault, I know it, but I can’t tell you anything more about my job. I just need you to—”

You need answers that you won’t be getting, and that sentiment alone makes you furious. When he gets too close, your hand moves to the leather harness that he has strapped around his broad chest, pulling a sharp-bladed knife from its sleeve. His eyes widen as you hold the blade up to him, his hands shooting up into the air yet again.

“You remember where I put my spare key, I remember where you keep your spare knife,” you taunt, the two of you standing so close now that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his face. “Guess we haven’t changed as much as you think.”

He huffs as the cool blade grazes his clothed chest, the metal so close that it nearly pierces his skin. Even then, you ensure that it doesn’t. It’s almost touching how you press such a sharp object to his heart of all places, he thinks.

Your situation is far more complicated than the both of you can handle right now. You have unresolved issues with each other, and that alone must be addressed before you can even begin to scratch the surface of the threats that now face the two of you.

“I still think you’re sexy when you’re mean to me,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side. “That hasn’t changed either.”

Was it the time for his flirtatious performance? Certainly not, but you were putting on a little performance of your own just the same.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

Leon shakes his head, his eyes narrowing just as yours did. “Disgusting? Oh, don’t romance me.”

“I’m not romancing you,” you huff with an eye roll. Your grip on the knife only tightens, but you have no real intention of using it. “I’m threatening you.”

He hardly finds you to be threatening. He’d liken you to an angry cat, but he wouldn’t dare voice that out loud. He’s letting you have your moment, truth be told. “Mm, even better.”

His calloused hand moves to shadow yours, slowly lowering the knife that begged to pierce his pale skin. You let him, which only gives him more incentive to pull it away from your grasp entirely.

He tucks the knife back into his sheath, moving to unbuckle the harness entirely. “Now, tell me. Who was that guy?”

A random guy you met on Tinder. “My future husband.”

You’re just trying to get under his skin now, and judging by the look on his face, it’s working. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, taking note of that smug grin that stretches over your lips.

He really just wants to fuck it right off you, but he doesn’t make that known. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah?” he asks, tilting his head. “You gonna let him put a ring on that pretty finger of yours?”

No, you absolutely were not, but you’re enjoying this game. It’s what he deserves after scaring the shit out of you tonight. “Yeah, I am. Thinking about some baby names too, just for safekeeping.”

Leon doesn’t like the thought that you’ve just put in his head, not one bit. His hand finds your left one, bringing it up to his lips as he presses a kiss on your ring finger. “Huh. That’s what you want?”

You tilt your head, noticing how his lips linger on your hand for a moment too long. “You know what I don’t want? To be shot at.”

He hums, giving you a mocking frown. Of course he feels bad about that, but… you both know he hadn’t truly shot at you. Around you, yes, but not at you. His large hands find your waist, his fingers grasping onto the fabric of your shirt and slowly but surely, you find yourself being backed towards your couch.

“Answer my question,” he whispers, his voice now possessing a rasp that it didn’t have before.

You sigh, willingly sitting on your couch, even though you’re doing your best to front as though you’re totally disinterested. “Why should I?”

He shrugs, his lips tugging down as he tilts his head. You watch with blown eyes as he kneels in front of you, his palms gliding over your thighs.

“‘Cause if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.”

You tilt your head, eyeing him quite intently as his fingers move to the button of your slacks. You shouldn’t be turned on, but you absolutely are, and the damp fabric of your panties that he’s about to see conveys that pretty well.

“Give me what?” you ask, grinning slightly.

“A ring, a baby… both, neither,” he replies, his fingers hooking beneath your waistband. “Lift your hips for me.”

When you do just that, his eyes raise to find yours. He has a crazed look in his eye, one that you’re all too familiar with. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give it to you,” he whispers, leaning in until his soft lips just barely brush against yours.

Your eyes close, and you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you… but he doesn’t. When you open your eyes, you find him grinning. The same shit-eating grin that you love and hate to no avail.

“You just have to say the words,” he whispers against your lips.

You roll your eyes, your hand reaching out to rest on the back of his neck. He was already impossibly close, so all you truly did was hold him there. “I want to kiss you.”

Leon smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “Mm, like I said. Whatever my lady wants, she gets.”

His lips find yours in a searing kiss, his calloused hands smoothing over the soft, exposed skin of your thighs. Your lips move together in a gentle manner at first, as though you were allowing yourselves to get familiar all over again, but you were both quick to realize that gentleness was the last thing you needed.

Your breathing grows ragged as one of his hands cups the back of your head, tilting you just enough so that his tongue could easily slip into your mouth. The kiss was sloppier, messier, much more desperate. It was perfect, in your humble opinion.

He trails kisses down your cheek, jaw, neck… just about anywhere he could as he begins his gradual descent. His hands palm at your breasts through your shirt, and without hesitation, his hands grasp onto the fabric and yank it open. Buttons go flying about your living room, but Leon doesn’t seem to care with the way his face pressed into your cleavage.

One of his hands snaked behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and the moment he saw a nipple, his mouth was already distracted once again.

“Leon, that was my favorite shirt!” you scold, glancing down at him.

He looks up at you with hazed eyes, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth before he releases it to reply to you. “Was it?” he asks, his reply lacking any care in the slightest.

You nod, narrowing your eyes at him, but your front doesn’t last long when his tongue swirls around your areola. He reaches into his back pocket, tossing his wallet beside you.

“Buy a new one, shit, buy anything you want,” he whispers against your skin, his hands grasping onto your waist. “Tits are so pretty, baby. I missed you.”

“Is that all you missed about me?” you ask, a huff of laughter leaving your lips while his trail down your stomach.

“Absolutely not, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your panties. He looks at you as he pulls them down your legs, and he presses his warm lips to your inner calves and thighs as he makes his way towards you again. “Missed everything about you.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s corny—”

“Sh,” he tells you, holding one finger up while he uses his other hand to slip one into your sopping entrance. Your walls clench around him, which only forces a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Let her talk for a bit, yeah?”

He hardly gives you a moment to reply before his head dips, his tongue curling up to stimulate your clit before he sucks on it entirely. He unabashedly moans into your cunt, introducing another finger into your entrance simultaneously.

Your head falls back, your hand delving into his hair to hold him impossibly closer to you, even though he seriously would get closer if he could.

“Sweetest pussy,” he murmurs into your heat, his voice rumbling against your wet cunt that he continued to eat like he would die if he didn’t. “Do somethin’ for me?”

You pick your head up to look down at him, nodding without question. He opens his eyes to look at you in return, pressing a kiss onto your mound before he turns around so that his back is now pressed against the front of your couch, still sitting on the ground.

“Sit on my face,” he suggests, tipping his head back onto the couch cushion.

He reaches for your hand to pull you forward, and you pivot on your knee, your front facing the back of the couch. He lays a light smack on your ass before he pulls you down the rest of the way to make you sit on his face.

Your hand reaches down, clutching onto his hair yet again while you cry out in genuine bliss. His tongue softens as he gives you long, deep licks into your pussy, wanting to taste every inch of you on his tongue.

And when your hips start to rock, he seems to be even happier. Much more incentivized too. He lulls his tongue out of his mouth, flattening it to let you ride his face as you so pleased. You made a mess of his chin, his mouth, his nose—he hardly cares.

(In fact, he doesn’t care. Not one bit. You might even have to pay him to care.)

“Y-You know,” you whine, grasping a bit firmer onto his hair while your hips continue to roll on his tongue, “I’m still mad at you.”

He nods his head, which only stimulates your cunt even more. “Mm, yeah?”

It felt so good. Everything about this was absolutely ecstasy, you can feel your eyes pricking with tears from how stimulated you’re growing.

“Yeah,” you choke out, resting your palms on the back of the couch to brace yourself. “I’m really fucking mad.”

Leon can’t help but grin, his hands brushing along the plush of your thighs. “I’m not too sure, sweetheart. Not with you riding my face like you love me ‘n all.”

“Shut… shut the hell up,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your movements begin to grow even more crazed the closer you get to your release. He was right, but that didn’t mean you had to admit that.

“Okay,” he complies, his eyes fluttering shut while he starts to greedily make out with your pussy, feeling the way you pulsate on his tongue. “Shuttin’ me up real nice with this pretty little pussy. Cum on my face too while you’re at it, pretty girl.”

Not nice enough, but you cry out anyway, your head falling while your legs tremble on either side of his head. “I… Leon, ‘m cumming,” you say through an airy moan.

His movements slow as yours do, his tongue eagerly reaping the benefits of its labor in the form of your sweet release. He lets out a content sigh, pressing a few sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

You slowly rise up from his face, and he turns around to face you again, licking his lips, not caring about the rest of your thin slick that coats his face. You chuckle, running your hand over his face to wipe it away.

“So…” he drawls, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You’re still mad at me? Tell me more.”

“Later,” you reply, hooking your finger into the loophole of his pants to pull him closer to you.

With a chuckle, Leon pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly on the floor of your living room. He gently nudges you until you’re laying back on your couch, his hands then moving to undo his belt.

“Ah, I see,” he teases, pushing his pants and boxers down in one motion. He kicks them away before he settles in between your parted legs, his hand pumping his cock.

You raise your eyes from his cock to his eyes, and you give him the most weary expression alive. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say.

It’s been too long, you were certainly not used to his size anymore. Leon knew it just as well as you did, but he didn’t want to make you nervous by saying that.

His brows knit together as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers moving a bit lower to prod your entrance. “You flatter me,” he says against your lips, his head dipping a bit lower to kiss your neck. “But there’s no need to worry your pretty head, baby. It fit before and it fit just right, remember? I’ll take care of you just like I did then.”

You nod your head, one of your hands cupping the back of his head while the other rests on his strong shoulder. “Okay… yeah, okay.”

He nods too, moving one of his hands to meet the one that you have resting on his shoulder. He intertwines your fingers, pushing your hand back onto the couch while he uses his other one to slide his tip along your folds.

“I promise,” he whispers, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

He always has. Even after the events of tonight, you know that he always will.

“I love you,” you say without thinking. A flush rushes across your face, and you close your eyes in utter embarrassment. (Seriously? A confession of your undying love while he’s actively entering you? Time and place.) “I’m so sorry, I—”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he whispers, pushing his cock further inside of you until he bottoms out. “Mm… I love you so much,” he replies without a care in the world. “And I’m not sorry about it.”

Your eyes soften at that, and a small chuckle leaves your lips. “Well… that’s good, isn’t it…?”

His eyebrows knit together, laughing softly at your awkward reply. “You’re such a dork, baby,” he whispers, dipping his head to plant a kiss on your lips while he rolls his hips into yours. “A pretty one, though.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss on your lips, and they stay shut, even when he opts to just rest his forehead on yours. “Your dork,” you say, a bit breathlessly with a smile on your face.

“Mhm,” he nods in agreement, a toothy smile stretching across his face. “My dork.”

Such a lovely interaction that you nearly forgot that he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, because the moment he falls silent, your eyes widen. “Oh, God…”

He smiles, kissing your cheek while he continues to thrust inside of you, his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy in a way that made him feel like he was finally home.

“See?” he whispers in your ear, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re taking me so well, pretty. So well.”

That makes you chuckle, but your laugh doesn’t last for long when the head of his cock rams into you even harder. Your hand smooths out along the expanse of his back, dragging your nails back up.

“You’re crazy,” you gasp out.

Leon smiles. “Crazy about you, sure.”

You laugh through an airy moan, tilting your head to the side as your eyes flutter shut. “Sooo corny,” you whisper.

He shakes his head with his same toothy grin, using his free hand to tilt your chin towards him again. His thumb brushes along your bottom lip before he kisses you, and it is just about the sweetest kiss that you could have ever asked for.

“You love it,” he murmurs in reply, a bit breathless as an overwhelming heat pools in his lower stomach.

You shake your head. “I love you.”

Leon clicks his tongue at that, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I’m the corny one?”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh. He loves hearing you like this, so happy yet so utterly ruined by the way he feels inside of you. He knows that the feeling is mutual, which only amplifies how much he’s enjoying this. Having you again.

He softly moans in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Pussy was made for me,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

After a few more strokes, he truly begins to lose himself. His cock twitches inside of you, and he dips his head into your shoulder. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” he rasps.

He pulls back, but you only pull him closer. It’s been so long, he hadn’t truly thought that you’d be okay with that. But here you were, his favorite girl. Always surprising him. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You nod your head, wrapping your free arm around his neck while the other gives his hand another squeeze. “I love you more.”

He grunts when your walls clench around his length, his lips pressing a longing kiss to your shoulder. “Cum with me, baby, c’mon. I need it, honey, please.”

You’re in no position to deny him or yourself. Your body trembles beneath him, a gorgeous moan ripping through the air while he buries himself deep inside of you, stuffing you full of his cum while you find your own release on his cock.

The two of you lay there for a moment, out of breath and entirely engulfed by one another. He slowly pulls out of you, pressing a few chaste kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, until he eventually kisses your lips.

When he pulls away, you smile up at him. You chase his lips once more, giving him a tender kiss before you lay your head back down.

“Now, as for why I’m still mad at you…”

note. yeahhh i need him bad in a way that’s concerning to feminism. anywhoooo interact if you enjoyed i rly like writing for him :D thank you so much for reading!

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