#the emotional whiplash i get from this song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

4pfsukuna · 7 months ago

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B.A.S G. Suguru

Debrief: heavily inspired by Megan thee stallions new song B.A.S. Warning: Smut like turn your screen brightness down and read in private. Geto suguru is his own warning

part 1 can be read here but not necessary to read it’s just Gojo smut🙃

Suguru Geto was a very jealous man, although he kept a calm exterior inside he was a storm of brewing emotions.

You had been friends with both him and Satoru since 6th grade enjoying having two bodyguards…and jesters.While the three of you jokingly flirted with another the boundary was set when it came to any of you being in relationships even if Suguru never stayed with a girl longer than a few months, he blamed it on getting the ick and sometimes you dont know whos sassier him or Gojo.

“Ah so you were kidnapped by snow white” you hear before you catch a glance of his dark hair going into the fridge rummaging around as if he owned it. The two of you had made such a habit of going through satorus things and taking it, honestly it was a surprise he even let you back in. You sat infront of Gojos laptop checking emails and things for your job since you’d gotten so comfortable and he practically forced you to stay. Not that you minded he had fast WiFi good snacks and his bed felt like those luxury hotel rooms.

“I'm assuming that's why you bluffed our trip to the museum” he smirks over his shoulder, covering his pure jealousy, watching your face fall. Stopping your chewing you reach for your phone seeing the missed calls and text from him covered on your lock screen of you him and satoru with your matching koi fish tattoos behind your ear.

“Sorry my glorious—“ you begin but he scoffs.

“I am not satoru, you can't sweet talk me!” He rolls his eyes taking a bite out of a cake pop left in the fridge. He doesn't seem to be bothered by it but you know better.

The previously mentioned man walks in shirtless black sweats hanging low on his hips revealing the designer logo on his boxer briefs. There's a certain pep in his step and arrogance about the way his sweats hang that Suguru absolutely does NOT miss.

“You're just jealous she spent the weekend with me and not at some boring ass museum” he smirks, bumping shoulders with Suguru who shoves him back with a pointed look. And he knows that glow on satoru, knows that you two fucked he doesnt know you two recorded it but even though he had a new girlfriend this week you two fucking gave him the absolute ick.

For her.

“It was a day and a half and i promise we can go to the museum after i finish this portfolio for my client” you correct Gojo and send a soft smile to Geto who smirks at the pouting snow haired man.

“No i don't want to share you, besides don't you have a girlfriend to bother and take on dates” Gojos sharp tongue jabs at his friend as he walks over to the fridge and he knew exactly what he was doing Getos got a sharper tongue though when he's jealous.

“Actually i do she wants to go on a double date tonight so get dressed” he tells him a challenging look in his eye and the tension in the room grows thick. he's challenging to see if either of you will speak up on what happened and he doesn't miss the way you two avoid eye contact his smirk growing wider.

Gojo catches it though.

“Mmm no thanks, I'm getting my dick wet tonight” He shrugs knowing whatever upper hand suguru thought he had… he didn't. He can't help the way his heart skips a beat when he catches your smile confirmation for round 7…8?

“Why not two in one night, youre never one to turn down a sexscapade” and he's quick, so quick that it gives you both whiplash as he toys with you now pulling a random piece of lint off your shorts… a pair of Gojos boxers which makes his brow twitch in frustration. You had on his shirt, boxers and socks…you fucking smelled like him.

There was nothing he could say to Gojo so he turned his metaphorical dagger on you.

“Isn't that right sweetheart? Don't you just love listening to your favorite fuckboys sex stories” and he had the audacity to try and GOAD you. Knowing how incredibly possessive your ass was and poison is dripping from his lips at “your favorite fuckboy”. Oh he knew it's definitely known between the 3 of you that he knew. The room gets hotter and before Gojo could say anything they're both reminded why you fit so perfectly into the trio.

“If you think I spent the whole weekend with this blue eyed glow stick and he didn't spew complete filth into my ear the whole time— don't humor me” and it's a triple threat. The nickname, double entendre and you poke back. Both of their heads are spinning at the way you say it without even so much as glancing up from your laptop screen.

Yeah you heard about his sex stories satoru couldn't hold water if you gave him a bucket and strapped it to his chest but now that you've had it there was a tinge of possessiveness you now claimed over him.

It's a tense silence only being broken by Satorus phone ringing letting you know the uber eats driver is down stairs.

“I'll be back, don't miss me too much” Gojo humms arrogantly, fingers running over your shoulders before bumping suguru on his way out.

You barely wait for satoru to close the door before you start speaking knowing Suguru would try to take control of the conversation.

“Jealousy isnt a good look on you—“ you smirk and he cuts you off, grabbing your chin.

“Are you FUCKING him?” He asks, a deadpan look on his face, his cologne enveloping your senses with a slight hint of japanese cherry blossom making you glare at him.

“Not you in MY business” you roll your eyes pulling your chin from his hand. The fucking audacity.

“Princess” he goads with that nickname glimpses of when satoru moaned it in your ear flash back “Are YOU fucking him?” He enunciates and you hated to be questioned it didn't matter who he was to you.

“Smelling like another woman and questioning ME is crazy” you scoff as he stands in between your legs eyeing you with a slight eye roll.

“You aint shit” and something about that sets him off, his eyes getting darker as if you didn’t smell like Satoru.

“Oh! Are you jealous?” He steps closer leaning toward your face, eyes flickering toward your lips as he licks his. “Does Satoru know how many times we’ve kissed?” He asks you, hands setting on your thighs with a slight squeeze.

Sure you’ve shared a few drunk kisses with Suguru and maybe a couple of sober ones too but he was a good kisser and you liked kissing when drunk. Why kiss a random stranger when HE was there. Plus you had to test to see if he was that good sober… for research purposes.

Licking your teeth you watch as his smirk returns and you’d do anything to wipe it off, taking his thick neck and wrapping as much as your green acrylic covered fingers around his neck as possible. You smile when he melts into it, eyes focused on your thick pink lips.

“Yeah… guess we both AINT SHIT” and as if he’s psychic he pulls back just in time for Satoru to walk in with bags of food.

“Guess who got extra food for being shirtless and the delivery guy thinking i was a God” he whoops, setting it on the marble island top in front of the two of you, you and suguru sharing a look before laughing. He was sooo…. Himself.

You engage in mindless chatter opening up the white carry out boxes of food unaware of the looks the duo keeps giving you before Suguru notices there's only two platters of sticky rice he slides one to you and keeps the other for himself quickly using a set of chopsticks to gather a large amount.

Before he could even lift it to his mouth satoru lurches forward taking it in his mouth letting his tongue twirl around the tips of the sticks before pulling back and chewing with a vicious smile on his face.

“GOJO!” He snaps bewildered and the tips of his ears being red lost on the two of you due to his long hair covering it.

“That's for my cake pop” he retaliates sitting back on the stool and you giggle taking a bite of your own rice.

“Satoru, I don't know where your mouth has been.” Suguru says in fake disgust although he goes to eat off the same chopsticks.

“My mouths been places you wish yours was” and the tensions back this time it's playful as the two begin play fighting.

Getting caught up with work you hardly have time to spend with either of them except for a few texts here and there Suguru is relentless in the thirst traps he sends you— laying in bed with audio of his morning voice, shirtless gym selfies even after shower selfies with his towel hanging dangerously low.

You entertain his game by sending him a photo of you arching in the mirror spine tattoo illuminated by the red mood lights and a black thong and ask ‘do you think this is good enough to send to my hoes’ and he chuckles at your little cat and mouse game. You're conniving, bratty and know how to work his nerve. He doesn't care who you send it to because he saw it first.

Ge-hoe {whats the plans for today, sweetheart}

You know that's his subtle way of seeing if you wanted to hang out but you were out on a date and it wasnt with satoru either. You debate responding to the text when your phone buzzes again.

Ge-hoe {and Satoru already blabbed that you two went to breakfast today and he was drunk of mimosas so i know that idiot doesn't have your attention for the rest of the night}

You {just enjoying some me time, you?}

Ge-hoe {Same.}

You had actually been out on a date, makeup done, fresh nail set, new hair style and a brand new outfit to an arcade date followed by a small cafe. You weren't complaining, it was something casual and fun without too much pressure.

You're sitting on the basketball game watching as he misses every jump shot, the two of you laughing about it until you feel someone brush up against your arm. Ready to snarl about personal space until their cologne hits your nose and you instantly know who it is. Dior sauvage with a hint of coconut conditioner.

Ge-hoe {Pleasure seeing you here princess.}

You {likewise}

And when you hear the high pitched voice of another woman you can't help but glance, she was cute you'll give her that— but not his type. You like her style and just as you're ready to compliment her she muggs you sending you the nastiest glare which your smile grows at. You weren't entertaining her when you had matching tattoos with this man. Not enough of a threat when he's lying about spending time with her. But you were lying too.

Lying to me and im lying to him guess we both aint shit

Ge-whore { you look so pretty propped up there}

8 more messages come through and you nearly block him as he lays his compliments on thick.

The last one catches your attention though.

Ge-whore{can you condition my hair tonight, you know i love when you scratch my head with fresh nails}

You {youre so annoying}

You {i want food}

Blueeyedking to group chat {i know you two didn't go to the arcade without me!}

When Suguru pulls up to your semi spacious loft (apartment) donned in a tight fitted compression shirt, gray sweats and sneakers two bags in hand you know he's serious. There's a lot of things he played about but his hair wasn't one so when he sees your extravagant hair care routine he knows he can trust you.

You turn into a certified yapper talking about work taking pride in it as you lather his scalp with conditioner and when his eyes close you know he's thoroughly enjoying it.

“And your date?” He ask now moving to lay his head in your lap as you use your diffuser on his hair claiming something about heat damage but you know he just likes the feeling of your fingers in his hair. You shrug looking over at your calendar.

“What are you wearing to your boyfriends party on saturday” and he opens his eyes to send you a glare knowing you were talking about gojo and you send him a coy smile. Heavy arm dropping down to your calf he begins massaging it pressing a thumb heavily into a specific spot that causes you to let out a strangled sound.

“Ngghh- Suguru! S-stop” you tug on a lock of hair which doesn't phase him. Suguru was no idiot he knew exacctly where every pleasure point on the body was and would sometimes fuck with you and Gojo at the worst times.

“Sounds so pretty saying my name” and this time his fingers brush your knee making you squirm so focused on his hair you don't notice the oversized shirt has been rising this whole time and it now rests on your hips giving him a perfect view of your red lace underwear.

“You wore this for your lil date?” He asks, hooking a finger in the band and snapping it against your skin.

“I wore it for myself cause i look hot as fuck dont piss me off” you pop his finger but that doesnt stop him as he plays with the lace hem the tension rising as you try to focus on his hair.

“Suguru stop fucking playing” you hiss pulling half his hair up into a bun to section off the finished part and he takes that as a challenge.

“I never play with my food” and he leaves a kiss on top of your mound over the lace listening to the way your breath hitches. He flips the both of you in one movement so his back is laying on the couch and you're straddling his mouth.

His tongue is licking a long stripe through your underwear that you feel on your slit making you let out a stifled moan.

Satoru was an idiot.

Satoru was a big fucking idiot.

There was no way satoru tasted you and let you walk out. Hes licking at your folds feverishly before his tongue swirls around your clit.

“S- suguru” you moan softly and that triggers an insatiable side of him. He locks an arm around your thigh so you can't move before sucking your clit into his mouth with more intensity.

The moans are spilling out the same way your wetness is your body instantly so responsive as he flickers a tongue through your folds. Thrusting a tongue up into you twisting and curling your hips buck at the intrusion earning a groan.

He uses his free hand to slowly push a thick middle finger in your core curling it pulling the sluttiest moan from you. watching your head lul back and back arch he's committing everything to memory, every moan and gasp when he curls or flexes a finger, the way your brows furrow and nose scrunches cutely when he sucks on your clit but most importantly the way you’re hips buck when he pushes his tongue harder against your clit.

Your moans begin to get higher and thighs start to tighten around his head and damn is he so contempt you both miss the vibrations of his phone on your coffee table nearing the edge…just like you.

He can't help but to snake one of his own hands down to his aching dick that's so painfully hard he bucks into his hand the minute he gets a grip on it.

He moans out the vibration traveling up your whole body as one hand grips the armrest of the couch and he nearly loses it when you start to babble.

“Fuck fuck nnggh fuck sug…suguru i—“ you whine hips bucking against his face and fuck hes losing his mind at the way your hand comes down to hold his face in place.

“Talk to me sweetheart” his muffled words come out and you feel the orgasm ready to rip through you watching his hooded eyes look up at you.

It's when you notice he's jerking off from pleasuring you that you can no longer hold back the orgasm and release down his face juices falling in his chin, down his neck even falling to his shirt.

He doesn't stop eating though, oh no his mouth latches on adding a second finger in listening to the squelching sounds he's pulling from you and the way you keep moaning his name like a prayer. His mouth starts making smacking sounds as he pushes you more into his mouth.

“F-feels so good! Im gunna—Suguru please please please” you whine and you never had to beg but fuck do you sound so pretty when you do and the way your tone gets higher, voice gets needier and pussy gets so much wetter. He moves his fingers faster, mouth faster and his grip faster on himself matching the way your hips move on his lips.

“J-just like tha—nghh” You cum extremely fast this time your whole body shaking and his hips stutter ropes of white cum shooting from his tip all over his pants as he lets you come down from your high noticing your body swaying as your breathing gets extremely heavy.

Chuckling he sits up pushing your hips down to his lap as he rubs your back and thighs before placing a sloppy kiss on your lips. He wanted nothing more than to let you keep cuming on his face but if he didnt get up he was going to lose his mind and take everything you had to give and then some. Hed never make it to actually fucking you.

“So you done fucking with that loser from earlier?” He asks in your ear trailing kisses down your neck listening to the way you pant for him soaking up his whole lap nails digging into his broad shoulders. His phone rings on the coffee table a contact photo of the girl from the arcade and you peel yourself off of him wiping your essence off his lips.

“Quit asking when imma leave my niggas knowing you still with your bitch” and he pulls you back by your thighs massaging them over his lap pushing his hair out of his face long locs cascading over his broad shoulders covered in his now soaked shirt. He pays little attention to what you were saying knowing he'd be single by tonight.

You don't speak to either of them much until Gojo’s party taking your time getting ready, only waltzing in once the party is in full swing.

Its only a minute in before Getos by your side pulling you in for a hug a smooth “hey sweetheart” chuckled in your ear as he holds out his drink for you never moving his arm from off of you. Gojo isn't too far behind pulling you away from the dark haired man taking you in an embrace of his own.

“Princess you finally made it” he yells kissing the top of your head with 3 shots in his opposite hand. You scrunch your nose as you take the shot and push the empty glass back towards him.

“Free alcohol and a chance to dress up and look pretty as fuck? Of course” you finish the drink Suguru had given you, eyes landing on Shoko and Maki who waves you over.

“Ditching us already?” Suguru purrs an unashamed glint in his eye. He licks his lips and the way your eyes flicker and watch momentarily let him know the two of you are thinking about the same thing.

“Yeah you’ve been ignoring us the past few weeks. I can't remember the last time you called me your blue eyed king” Satoru pouts crossing his arms over his chest.

“What can i say…I’m a hot commodity” you wink before going over to the couch where the girls are, your heels sinking slightly in the rug as you walk.

“I'm surprised you could get away from your boyfriends” maki smirks over her red solo cup and you roll your eyes taking her cup downing all the contents, the cognac sliding down your throat smoothly.

“Not my boyfriends” you fake gag giving her back the empty cup making her scowl at you.

“Please Suguru hasn’t stopped staring at you like he wants to eat you since you walked in, and Satoru… Satoru has that arrogant smirk” Shoko speaks, lighting her cigarette knowing it would piss off the latter.

“Have you seen how good my ass looks in this dress, and satoru always has that arrogant smirk. Besides we’re a trio” you smile coyly you could feel the heat of sugurus eyes burning into your back. They both send disbelieving looks not even wanting to get into your relationship with the two before pouring more shots enjoying the music and chatter.

It's when the alcohol begins tasting like water that you know it’s beyond time to slow down on drinking especially when you begin…feeling absolutely feral.Truthfully you were not…okay. At all. Geto must have some magic tongue because the way every time you blinked you could picture the view of him under you. Could feel his mouth on you. You nearly came to the thought of this man.

How did you feel like you were missing out when you were the one that let him taste test the goodies.

“You alright?” Maki asked after you release a small hiccup relaxing further into the cushion. Watching as Suguru and an older dark haired man with a scar on his lip has what looks to be a muscle off.

He's glaring at suguru with a look of disgust that borders “ill kill you” while sugurus look of disgust is “bitch please your filthy hands couldn't even touch me. They exchange a few words before settling into arm wrestling positions and you smile Sugurus definitely been drinking to partake in something so… beneath him.

“Yeah I just need some air” you tell them standing up and walking to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water seeing Satoru already in there cracking open another bottle of alcohol.

“You okay, princess?” He ask genuinely and your nod holding the bottle of water towards him so he can open it he complies, loosening it lightly before handing it back to you. You waste no time guzzling it nearly choking as you laugh at him goofily singing along to the song earning a smile.

He sets the bottles down,wrapping you up in his arms, versace cologne strong but not overbearing as he rocks you two gently, unaware of the looks you were getting.

“I miss you, we haven’t hung out in weeks. Do you think I’m ugly or something?” he gasped dramatically, making you laugh as you used his belt loops to keep you steady.

“Ohhhh thee Gojo Satoru” you begin to tease knowing that as much as an arrogant bastard you’re friend was he called your friendship and quality time aka he was a softy that loved validation, a brat.

He leans into your teasing pushing his face into your neck before you feel his sharp teeth graze your neck.

“S-satoru” you gasp shocked and you go to laugh but he beats you to it.

“Never let them know your next move. That’s what you get for ditching me” he pokes your chin and you feel an energy shift. Both of you looking to the right you see Suguru approaching, his eyes focused on Satorus arms around you.

Geto suguru is a jealous man and the thought of someone else having you in the way he wanted pissed him off.

When he’s close enough he leans against the table Satoru has you pinned against staring strictly at the other man.

“The people are waiting for alcohol, especially old scar lip. How'd you even know him?” He ask, taking a shot from the bottle. Satoru only groans, grabbing another bottle quick to walk out.

“You must taste good to have my best friend openly licking you in public” he points daggers at you and if so bitchy at that, he’s not angry. He's good at hiding his jealousy behind a teasing facade but you knew better drunk or not.

“Oh don't tell me you've forgotten Suguru.” you milk his ego slightly reminding him of a few nights ago with a purr and an adorable head tilt batting your eyelashes up at him. It's when you take your bottom lip between your teeth that he's reminded of the faces you were making as you rode his face until you came. While Gojo likes outright straight up flattery Geto prefers the mind games getting off on the mental stimulation. In other words he likes to be talked out his boxers.

“Of course not sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly, using the band on his arm to tie half of his hair up brushing the rest off his broad shoulders. “The offer is always on the table”.

Standing up on your tiptoes and using his muscular bicep as leverage secretly feeling him up you match his smirk pulling the band from his hair.

“I actually like your hair better down it would look so hot in missionary like that” you say innocently pulling his hair back over his shoulders and like a charm… he was talked out his boxers.

The minute the door is closed behind the two of you your hands are pulling him down by the front of his shirt lips on his and he's moaning into your mouth.

He's pushing you back on the bed behind your lips never leaving yours as he straddles your hips one hand propping him up the other holding your head in place.

“You’ve been giving me those fuck me eyes all night” he breathes kissing down your neck directly over where Satoru jokingly bit you making sure to suck a mark of his own on your neck. Pulling your dress down there's a slight shredding sound before he's completely ripping off your dress.

“S-Suguru!” You stutter pulling away and he just lets out a slight hum taking in your bare body.

“What? It's not like it was covering much anyways i'll take mine off too” he pulls his black sports jersey off revealing a perfectly sculpted body and you are momentarily distracted running a hand from his happy trail up his abs to his chest.

“We do have to leave this room eventually,” you begin tilting your head with a pointed look which he shrugs at.

“Won't be anytime soon” he chuckles amused at you even assuming you would. Your hand trails back down to his belt yanking him forward your lips meeting again his hair acting as a curtain shielding the two of you.

His tongue dances down your chest until his mouth reaches a nipple, his fingers sneaking inside your waistband brushing against your slick clit.

“Oh sweetheart”he grins like a Cheshire cat enjoying the way you arch into him and soak his fingers up. He watches you throw your head back,whines coming out as he circles his middle finger around your clit. Arching up into him to get more pressure he chuckles his finger sliding between your folds and into your core.

“Soaked soo fucking soaked” he heaves adding a second finger grinning when you push your hips down twisting. Giving you exactly what you want he starts thrusting them faster, feeling you clench.

“Suguru” you moan, clutching onto him your soft pants increasing more and more until he makes a particular curl of his fingers against your g spot that makes your eyes cross.

“G-gunna…Sug—“ your body begins twitching as the pressure builds so intensely from his fingers and he only chuckles, pulling his fingers away, making you gasp at the sudden loss.

“Suguru PLEASE” you beg gripping onto him so tightly and it’s exactly what he wanted you under him his jealousy twisting into his need to have you a begging mess under him.

It satisfied a sick part of him, itching a certain scratch that inflates his ego. So while people were lusting after you, you were writhing and begging under him.

Stroking his thick length you hiss when he slowly starts pushing in feeling the burn of how thick he is youre ready to wrap your legs around him to take some form of control but he grips your thigh pushing it to your chest.

He leans forward as he bottoms out groaning feeling the way your tight pussy sucks him in and grips his fucking soul.

“Fuck… FUCK” he grunts feelings his pelvis touch your mound and he needs a second or hes going to burst until he hears you let out a soft exhale that sounds strangled and his eyes meet your wide ones. You had never felt so full before, never had your legs forced open because someone was so thick, you could actually feel him in your stomach.

You could fall apart just like this. Everything about this moment was more than sexually satisfying his scent, his touch, his hair dangling down over you the way his dick spread you open but isn't painful. You begin to wonder how many kids he wants and can instantly picture him as a girl dad.

Fuck kids, you needed to be able to fuck this man for breakfast lunch dinner and a midnight snack. Until the walls had no paint, until he couldn't tell left from right, until your throat was sore and his hips hurt. Until your knuckles hurt from clenching the sheet so tight and his bottom lip bruised from biting it so hard.

“Y/n, you okay?” And him calling you by your actual name brings you back down to him bringing your mind from the spiral he sent you into, damn how long was i daydreaming.

“Baby?” He ask sliding out slighty and the sloshing sound makes you look at him grabbing his face to pull his lips to yours. Oh he was so fucked. YOU were fucked. Sliding back in, your hands, find your way to his hair tugging lightly when he snaps his hips. You couldn't find words so the kiss would have to suffice.

“Oh fuck” you whine in his mouth and that’s all it takes before he’s creating a steady pace of strokes�� grunting when you clench around him any thought of… anything was lost. The only thing he could focus on was how tight and hot you were around him and how perfectly you were taking him. Part of the reason why he switched women so much was because they always had a hard time taking him and while yes he may look every bit of a sex God some things just aren't enjoyable. Oh, but you? If heaven was real this was it and he could die happily between your legs.

“That's right baby youre doing so good” his voice rasp gently, nearly being drowned out by the loud music of the party. Getting wetter at the sound of praise he takes note kissing your leg that's bent by your face.

“So good at taking me” he grunts in your ear, biting on it easily, pushing you into your first orgasm from just talking and he looks too satisfied to be done any time soon. The way your nose scrunched cutely and you clenched tighter before the warm gush pushed all over his dick oh he needed so many more. How were you so pretty and perfect at everything you did?

Finally relaxing slightly he nearly lets out a strangled moan when you tighten your legs around his hips and flip him over. It happens so fast one minute he feels like he has the upper hand and the next he's at your mercy. There's a feral look in your eyes, you look like you absolutely want to ravage him and as dominant as he is the thought of you taking charge makes him twitch inside of you.

Raising your hips slightly and propping yourself up using his abs as balance you slowly inch back down so painfully slow squeezing as you do and he lets out a broken groan. Inching back up against the headboard to give you a hand he almost regrets it the way your hips twist and grind into him so deliciously. His grip on the headboard tightens the wood creaking slightly.

The way he bites his lips and gives you such a loud moan fuels you as you repeat the action, hips moving faster as you raise and drop releasing moans of your own as his dick hits that perfect spot inside of you every time.

You slither a hand up to his neck watching his eyes widen the wicked smirk on your face growing the widest its ever been. Its when you squeeze that his hips buck involuntarily up into you but being the rider you are you let the movement adjust you on your tiptoes picking up speed a bit more.

So when he lets out a broken moan that almost sounds like a whine he starts scrambling to get some sort of control over the situation. Using his thumb he presses against your clit rubbing circles to stimulate you more listening to the sounds the two of you are making.

“Fuck baby s-slow down” he moans but the way hes watching himself dissapear fully inside of you is letting you know hes enjoying this to much for you to slow down. Squeezing his neck a tad bit more and tilting his head up so you're making eye contact the smile on your face never leaves.

“I cant keep— ngghh, feel so good Suguru” you purr and even though you look fully incontrol you never fully recovered from that first orgasm you were actually still brain scrambled but you were still taking him— riding him and using him to your advantage so well.

“Suguru” you whine eyes rolling back and that's his undoing oh but he's not done yet, you decide. The feeling of his hot cum bursting inside of you satisfies a sick part of you knowing you could reduce him to… this. You had to see it again but this time you had to watch his face.

“If you… if you can tell me what i'm spelling” you start leaving a peck on his lips “i'll let you cum again” and he's confused as hell but likes the sound of it. Shit you could probably ask him for his credit card number and he’d sing it.

Twisting your hips in a certain direction you smile when he says the first letter of your name.

“Good, how about this one” and you twist again with a thrust moving his hand to play with your clit yourself watching his eyes zero in on you.

He stutters out the second letter of your name but quickly clears his throat. You smirk repeating through all the letter of your name watching how wrecked hes becoming the closer you get to the end of your name and hes melting at the thought. You spelling your name out on his dick taking your ownership he wanted to lay you on your back and go feral but that would mean he'd have to give this up and for a jealous and possessive man he loved being claimed.

Its when you get to the last letter that you reach behind you grabbing his balls and squeezing as you twist the last letter on his dick and he bursts for the second time and never has he cum this fast back to back… you could definitely ask for his credit card number and have it. Credit card number, his house key… fuck it his soul anything you wanted was yours he swore it.

He realizes quickly that you making him cum wasn't for his satisfaction… it was for yours you were having fun milking him for every drop taking taking taking until nothing was left. In fact looking for more ways to make him cum. He gets a moment of relief when you climb off of him. He was entirely too sensitive and any second longer he was sure he wouldn't be able to feel his dick— in the best possible way.

Hes heavily panting, still closing his eyes trying to get his shit together when the next sensation has his eyes shooting open.

Your tongue teases his sensitive tip and he nearly thrashes in your hand but the lack of energy has him only let out pathetic whines that nearly sounds like whimpers. Oh the joys of breaking a man! Watching your thick gloss covered lips spread around his thick girth was a sight he’d commit to memory and never forget. Twisting both of your hands down and around his length you let your mouth follow licking up your combined mess hollowing out your cheeks with a particular suck that makes his stomach squeeze.

“Fuck baby” he groans ready to tangle his hands in your hair but settling for running it down your spine tattoo over and over. He knew better than to touch your hair. Its when you let half fall out of your mouth, spitting it back into his dick, licking it back up and swallowing before swirling your tongue around the tip is when he starts to plot the murder of everyone you’ve been with prior.

He listened to the way you gag when you take him as far back t in your throat as you can, the sound of you sitting and licking it back up, the slurping the gawk and the gulk before he finds himself getting too overstimulated. But there's a soft wet sound that he knows isn’t coming from him so he follows it between your legs watching your slick covered skinny brown fingers rub maniacally at your clit oh his little freak indeed.

Your mouth travels down his shaft before sucking his balls into your mouth and he throws his head back, hips bucking up unable to stop himself from grabbing your hair this time as your thumb presses into the slit on his tip.

“Come here” he rasp out, finally coming to his senses slightly right before coming again pushing you on your stomach.

“Sug—npphhh” and your muffled by the pillow as he pushes his dick back in the squelching sound only fueling him as he slides in. He pulls all the way back to the tip placing a hand on your upper back to push you deeper into an arch before snapping his hips back in all the way.

“Fuck Sug!” You borderline yell arm reaching back to grab onto something and he chuckles repeating the motion over and over using your hips as leverage. He slams you down onto his dick right where he knows your g spot is watching as you try to run arch falling completely.

“Whats the matter baby?” He antagonizes wrapping a hand around your hips to find your clit terrorizing the bundle of nerves until your legs are quivering and lip trembling.

Leaning forward he brushes your hair out of your face taking a moment to just observe how fucking pretty you are like this. His pretty baby, with a face like this you could call him at any time and he’d come running.

“Close… im s’close” your legs begin thrashing even wilder as you clench his sensitive tip leaking ready to fill you up with another load. The way your acrylic fingers grips the sheets as you fall into your arch even more was such a sight. Party be damned, Satoru be damned and exes be damned. Suguru felt so head high the electricity brewing between the two of you as you both fought off your peaks to elongate the sex as long as possible.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart?” He ask rubbing your clit faster picking up his speed releasing loud obscene groans in your ear and it’s when his thrust start becoming sloppy that you know he's just as close as you are and that’s enough to muster up the tiniest bit of energy to throw your ass back and match his rhythm.

“Cum with me sweetheart” and he begins counting down from 5 knowing he wasn’t lasting 10 seconds at all nor did he even remember all the numbers at a time like this.

“3…2..” he breathes roughly in your ear and your eyes roll back in your head the both of you releasing at the same time before he could even reach 1 the intensity too much and he collapses onto you his fingers still rubbing you through the orgasm until the two of you are reduced to nothing but sweaty heaving bodies.

It’s a comfortable silence even when he moves off of you and pulls you to lay on his chest…and out of the wet spot.

“So messy” he teases, brushing your hair down with his hand, ignoring the way he has strands sticking to his own forehead.

“It’s your fault.. you made me that wet” you grin trailing your fingers over his abs loving the way he convulses slightly. You're so ready to sink into the soft sheets and warmth he provides until a distinct buzzing grabs your attention, pulling your vibrating phone from the floor seeing you had about 10 text messages from Gojo 2 from Shoko and one from Maki.

Suguru uses the time to check his own messages seeing he has quite a few missed messages himself though all from the same person.

His ex girlfriend that he broke up with the other night through text directly after leaving you.

Gojo had been looking for you and all you could tell him was that you stepped out for sure ignoring that you’d have to face reality at some point.

“I could go for another round”

“Fuck it, Guess we both aint shit”

tag list(and my very first🥹) @gardenof-venus

#jjk x black!reader #suguru x black y/n #suguru x black reader #geto x black reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk smut #satosugu x black!reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x black reader #satoru x black y/n #satosugu x y/n #satosugu x you

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blessedbyahuntress · 2 months ago

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Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Eight: I Should've Tied the Imbeciles's Hands Behind Their Backs

Prev/Next

A/N: Actually kind of obsessed with this song... Anyone else???

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.12k

Listen to: Keep your friends close

You and Eurylochus just stared at each other as you processed his words.

“Hm,” you hummed.

Eurylochus’s heart was beating too fast. His palms were getting sweaty, as was the back of his neck.

“You’re forgiven,” you decided. “At least by me. That talk with Odysseus should be fun, eh? Oh, can you help me grab a bite to eat? I can’t reach that shelf where you put the clementines.”

Eurylochus almost got whiplash from trying to follow your train of thought. He blinked once, straightening. “Of course,” he said.

So you led him down to the storage room below deck, smiling way too wide than Polites was comfortable with, even though he knew clementines were your favorite fruit.

It was unlike him, he knew, but Polites was slumped behind the pole you and Eurylochus had been standing in front of. He’d heard the whole exchange.

He sank down to the wooden floorboards, overcome by the same foreign emotion he got whenever Eurylochus approached you.

“A little problem you have with her, don’t you?”

He looked up, but there was no one in sight. “Pardon?” He asked.

The voice tsked. It sounded like a woman’s voice. “Stop speaking aloud, Polites. You’re making yourself look like a fool by talking to nobody.”

Sorry, Polites thought.

“Now, as I was saying, your predicament with Y/N is so infuriating to watch! I just have to step in. You see, me and Hermes have a bet going. You just have to win!”

Aphrodite, Polites said. What do you want from me?

“Oh how exciting a love triangle is! You see, Hermes is Y/N’s mentor, blah, blah, blah. All that boring stuff.”

Boring? He demanded the voice in his head. Hermes being Y/N’s mentor is not- wait, what?

“As I said, boring. Anyway, we started a bet. Hermes bet that Eurylochus could steal Y/N’s heart before you, but I disagree. I believe you can win her over.”

Then you are foolish, Polites thought. She will never choose me over Eurylochus.

“Oh, yes she will,” Aphrodite said. “Because of this.”

There was a sudden cold feeling in his right hand, and he opened it in surprise. Sitting in his palm was a small vile, filled with a rosy pink liquid, the same color as your cheeks when you blushed. Polites blinked at the analogy.

He brought the bottle up to his eye and inspected it. He knew what it was.

My lady, Polites thought. Didn’t you make a bet with Hermes? I’m guessing that he’ll be furious if I cheat.

Polites could almost see Aphrodite shrug in his mind. “What does it matter? This potion will only make her focus on you more. Keep her thinking of Eurylochus as only a close friend.”

Do you promise?

Aphrodite giggled. “I promise.”

And then her presence in his mind vanished as if it had never been. Polites sighed and slipped the vile into his pocket, swearing that he would only use it if something major happened between you and Eurylochus.

You and Eurylochus were laughing as you made your way back on deck, but immediately stopped as you saw Odysseus’s feet hit the deck.

Eurylochus pushed his way through the crowd of men who had gathered around Odysseus, his hand grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you after him.

“Captain, what’s happening?” Eurylochus asked. “What’s trapped in that bag?”

You looked down at said bag in surprise; you hadn’t noticed at first.

“Something dangerous friends, we mustn’t lag,” Odysseus replied grimly, gesturing for the crew to get the ship ready.

“It’s treasure!” A couple of voices said. You frowned. You’d never heard anybody with that high pitched voice. Even Little Ajax was never that squeaky.

You took a step forward as the rest of the crew chanted, “open the bag! Let’s see what you got.”

“No, do not!” You cried, stepping in front of Odysseus in unison with Polites, smacking away a hand that was reaching for the bag.

Odysseus gave both of you a grateful look before running his hand through his hair. “Everybody listen closely,” the captain ordered. “See how this bag is closed? That’s how it’s supposed to be.” He held the bag up for everyone to see. “This bag has the storm inside. We cannot let the treasure rumor fly.”

“We’ll try,” you, Polites, and Eurylochus said, nodding.

But it wasn’t easy. It was all you could do to keep the rest of the crew at bay, and they were getting more and more confident, trying to find their way around you or Polites or Eurylochus and steal the bag.

Until one day they succeeded.

It had been nine days, and Odysseus had reassured you that he could watch over the bag himself until you got back from grabbing a snack.

So you were just grabbing an apple from a cupboard when you heard a voice sounding startlingly like Odysseus calling, “no.”

You ran up the steps two at a time despite the pain in your injured leg. The apple you had grabbed you now carried in your jaws as you burst onto the deck. Surely they couldn’t have-?

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” A feminine voice sang gleefully.

There. Two men were crouched over the bag- the open bag. From it, fierce winds that could only belong to the storm you had encountered nine days ago.

“Storm,” the men cried and your first thought was, and who do you think caused it, imbeciles?

“Where’s the storm taking us?” You heard Odysseus demand, and you tried to see the captain through the heavy rain.

“I said to keep the bag closed, but you weren’t compliant.” Now you could see it; a vague form of a woman in the clouds. Her mouth was moving. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re headed to the Land of the Giants.”

“Help me close the bag!” Odysseus shouted, struggling to reach the sack through the winds.

You were already sliding toward the bag, deciding that it would be easier to not be thrown off the ship if you moved on your knees.

“But sir, it’s too late!” You heard Eurylochus say as you wrestled with the rope that was supposed to bind the bag closed.

“We can save whatever wind is left to use another day! Come on!” Odysseus yelled back.

Your two friends pinned the bag closed, and you finally untangled the rope, quickly tying in back around the container.

You stood, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you scanned your surroundings. Only open sea for as long as you could see.

“Y/N of Ithaca!”

Your eyes went as wide as saucers and you turned around.

“Do you know who I am?”

#eurylochus #epic musical #epic the musical #epic odysseus #epic the ocean saga #polites #polites x reader #eurylocus x reader #aphrodite #blessed by a trickster #ocean saga #keep your friends close

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moonytoastatmidnight · 1 year ago

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The emotional whiplash you get from listening to a Starkid playlist is insane because you'll be listening to a sad song like Spy Again or If I Believed or Black Friday or Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise)....and then those will be immediately followed by Virginity Rocks or To Be A Man or Dysentery World (to name a few)

#starkid #team starkid #nerdy prudes must die #twisted starkid #trail to oregon #black friday #nightmare time #spies are forever #holy musical b@man

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samonroegf · 8 months ago

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we meet again | rockstar!sam monroe

you haven't seen or heard from sam monroe in 10 years. what happens when you go and see your favorite band, and your childhood best friend is the one on stage?

requested by @crymyblood and inspired by this post. some nice cliche friends to strangers to lovers. ᝰ masterlist

senior year.

sam’s head leaned in your window, it was inching towards 4 in the morning. the dark sky starting to be bleached with the light colors of dawn. sam was out of breath and had a smirk on his face, “hey, didn't know if you'd still be awake.”

you smiled back at him, setting aside the latest book that had your attention. you walked towards the window, leaning on the edge of it, sam's face mere inches from yours. “couldn't put the book down," you laughed.

“i don't have much time, the bus is leaving soon. will come with me?” time has stopped in this moment, the brisk morning air making puff of smoke when sam spoke.

“you’re leaving?” your heart stopped in your chest, falling to the deepest pits of your stomach. your world crashing around you, your safe space, your best friend is leaving.

“i am. i can't stay in this stupid town, i hate it here. I'm running away, will you come with me? please, come with me.” his eyes were so big, asking for too much. your heart and your mind fought ferociously in your body.

“where are you even going? do you have money?” concern boiled under the surface, your hands shook.

“it doesn't matter. are you coming with me?” his hand outreached towards you, and you wanted to take it. you couldn't get yourself to, you loved sam but you couldn't just runaway and go nowhere.

“i-i can't, sam. I can't go but,” you paused and searched through your nightstand, years of saved up birthday money.

you shove the envelope in his hand, “take this, it's $1200. it won't get you super far but it'll help.”

“i can't take th-” sam's eyes were welling to the brim with tears, he can't believe you said no. he never even thought that was a possibility.

“you will. you'll take it, and it'll help. i love you.” in a haze of dizziness and flurrying emotions, you pressed your lips to his. his hands are soft and chapped.

he froze for a moment, only a moment, and then he was gone. out of your window, out of your hometown, out of your life.

modern day. concert.

you basked in the music of your favorite band, humid air and hot bodies surrounded you. everyone cheering on the main act. your heart thumped in your chest, adrenaline rushing through veins while seeotonin flooded your mind.

there was few things that compared to being at a concert. everyone around you hyped, your body is sweaty, the air is gross, but the people that saved you standing mere feet away.

the lead singer usually had a mask on while performing, but recently decided to axe it in live concerts for the fans.

the utter shock that tore through your body when the lead singer that stared back at you was sam monroe. the same boy that left all those years ago.

he looked so similar but so different. of course, he still had his face. but he was now covered with so many tattoos, more piercings, and all of his hair is colored.

without better words, he looked hot. once you pieced it together, his voice wasn't all that different, just deeper now, a little raspier. probably from smoking, and screaming during his songs.

you felt whiplashed from the amount emotions that cut through you. you listened to the songs on a much deeper level, you wondered if any of the songs were about you. a bit conceded but he knew you from kindergarten to senior year, kinda leaves an impression on a person.

modern day. after the concert.

the concert had ended you stood in the venue trying to figure out how to see him. you needed to talk to him, you'd missed him more than anything in the world. you needed to see sam, needed him to see you.

the technicians for the band, started carrying the instruments into the back of the van.

“hey! um, kinda weird question, do you think you can get sam for me?” you voice was shaky, and you knew the likelihood was low. or it would be if only sam didn't go by his legal name anymore, didn't want to be known.

so when you ask for him by that name, one of them uses the com to ask for him, you tell him your name and shortly sam appears in front of you.

he looks somewhere between unnerved and thankful to see you. you couldn't help it, tears welled in your eyes. you never thought you'd ever see him again. you can't do anything but pull him in for a hug. you couldn't stop to think he'd be unhappy to see you. he's the one that left.

he hugs you back hard, basically crushing you. he rubs his face in the crook of your neck, he's holding you so close. the one that got away.

“sammy, i-i’m sorry! I'm sorry i didn't go with you. I've missed you so much, i-i didn't-” you're blubbering. you didn't care that the rest of his band, and the crew could probably see you. your emotions were overwhelming, like waves taking you under.

“sh, hush, it's okay. i know, i know.” his shirt is balled up in your hand, and he's rubbing comforting circles on your back. he didn't know what to say. what do you say to someone you haven't seen in forever?

“you-” you began to talk, looking at sam. you're really taking him all in, this man just might be the love of your life.

your thoughts are interrupted by his hands holding your face, his lips enveloping yours. the softness of his lips constrasts harshly with the need that he kisses you with.

“i can't let you go again,” he breathes after a few monents, his forehead against yours.

“i never forgot, i think of you all the time, i, please come with me? go on tour with us, will you?” he's looking at you expectantly, fear evident in his eyes. he's scared of that same rejection all over again.

“i will, i will. I don't want to lose you again, sam. i will follow you forever." you're holding his hands against your face.

sam gets the stupidest and widest grin on his face. “who woulda thought I'd fall for a fan,” he laughs and you can't help but punch him in the arm.

“oh my god. shut up.”

#rockstar!sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe angst #sam monroe fic #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe one shot #sam monroe life as a house #꒰꒰ sammy ₊˚๑ #life as a house sam #sam monroe blurb #sam monroe drabble #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x you #ζ callista says things . ✦

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a-couple-of-notes · 4 months ago

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Many people have already talked about the things that feel off-kilter in this episode--the lack of moons on the door, the aspect ratio not changing, the real quick turnaround from Jen--and I tend to agree. I think there's a good chance this ends up not being what it seems (and Alice hopefully comes back, I love her).

BUT I'm going to operate under the assumption that this was real until proven otherwise. In which case, this was by far the weakest-paced episode, on a macro- and micro-level, but I can sorta see where they're going with it.

Alice tied up her main story last week. I still think they could have found a good narrative past that--what's her identity beyond her mother? She could have leaned into the parallels with Teen, coming into her witchhood. However, in a 9-episode series, I can understand wanting to clear space coming over the halfway mark. So they kill her. Okay, that's a way to do it.

We saw in episode 4 that the coven is capable of true camaraderie and grace toward each other; I can understand the structural instinct to immediately juxtapose that against the selfishness and tension they also carry. Jen's turn was a bit fast, but not totally out of the realm for her character. I don't think she was ever advocating for the coven to kill Agatha (that was Rio), but she has always pointed them toward the most logical, most expeditious solution, with a healthy dose of self-preservation to boot. She shoves everyone out of the way to go down the oven escape route in Ep. 3, she sticks inside the protection circle in Ep. 4, she's always pointing out Agatha and Rio's weird shit. I buy at least the concept that her logical nature, survival instincts, and long-established disdain for Agatha would combine into some version of the attitude we see in Ep. 5.

Billy/Teen could go either way. They've certainly laid the groundwork for the reveal of his identity. His actions are...questionable, but again not out of the realm of possibility for his characterization. Despite what Agatha (seems to?) imply about his manipulations, the episode shows he lashes out after Agatha kills Alice. Not only that, but all the other witches (not just Agatha) move on like nothing happened. Of course he would be angry with all of them! The outburst is emotional, not calculated. I think this was one of the smarter choices in the episode; we've seen that relationship grow in small but consistent ways since Ep. 3. And it lends Alice's death a lot more narrative weight to have a character--y'know, actually care about and change because of it. Sorry, Sharon. (Sidenote: Personally, I'm questioning the song choice at the end credits--like, I get it, big reveal, Wanda Maximoff crown, but the tone and lyrics undermine how much Teen's actions are driven by his friendship with Alice/grief over her death. I don't think sowing doubt over whether he was the villain all along is worth compromising that.)

This is a wild swing of an episode that I don't quite know lands for me, but it's also the halfway point of the show. Maybe none of this is real and all the off-kilter stuff is setting up for something smarter. But if it is real--If they wanted to raise the stakes and shift the tone--this would be the time to do it. (Although I mourn the version of this story where they continued with fun Halloween hijinks, reluctant found family, and toxic gay cosmic entity situationships.) There is a very good chance that the back half of the show justifies and contextualizes the choices in Ep. 5. But without having seen that yet, it's just whiplash.

#agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #agatha all along episode 5 #agatha harkness #teen agatha all along #alice wu gulliver #jennifer kale

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jarofstyles · 2 years ago

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Reaper 7

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

This chapter contains some intense emotional whiplash. You learn a bit more about their backstories and trauma, but first... filthy smut :)

Check out our Patreon for exclusive writing and early access!

wc: 10.6k

warnings: smut, crying kink?, daddy kink, talks of death, talks of human trafficking

----------------------------------------------------

Harry wasn’t necessarily in a rush to get home, but he definitely appreciated the lack of traffic on the road. He obviously preferred to ride his bike but on days like these where there were barely any cars on the road, he liked to drive.

Bunny was sitting pretty next to him, trying her best to stay still while his hand massaged the inside of her thigh. It was warm and heavy, she really liked it. Of course, any other time they were in the car, he’d done the same thing. Now, they were just both on edge.

The black set would definitely make Harry lose himself in the moment and that’s something Bunny was desperate to experience. His passion, his desire for her. Even seeing it in his eyes got her excited.

Harry was extremely hot while he drove, though. The one hand on the wheel, his jaw clenching as he chewed his gum, he is fingers tapping the leather as the radio played a rock song on low.

He was sex on wheels, really. Her body was thrumming from the near foreplay they’d had shopping and his mixture of touches while they drove. It was hard to behave knowing damn well what he was going to do to her the moment they were behind closed doors.

“I can feel you thinking.” He murmured, squeezing a bit further up her thighs. “What’s running through that pretty little head, darling?”

“That this feels really good and that I have to wait.” She tried her best to get the sentence out without giving away how bothered she was. Unfortunately, her staggered breathing gave her away. “Just want to be home already,” Bunny bit her lip before continuing. “I really want your mouth. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Flashbacks from the night before filled her mind, his hold on her so tight that she felt she’d never get away. It was exactly how she liked it.

“And the way you kept looking at me in the dressing room…” Y/N wouldn’t forget to mention it. She noticed and she wanted him to know this as well, she could read him now. A lot better than before. “Could see you holding back, but your eyes were ripping everything off of me.”

“My mouth?” He laughed, taking a second to peek at her. She was obviously very affected by it and he couldn’t blame her. He had thought of her mouth since she had it wrapped around him the first time.

“I was thinking about it, yeah.” If the stalker wasn’t an issue… “once this shit is settled, I’ll happily make you cum wherever the fuck you want. I’ll take you to places where people can watch us. I don’t care.“ he was an attention whore when it came to sex and no stranger to exhibitionism.

“I had to get you out of the store before I did that. But you behaved incredibly well.” He had genuinely been surprised at how good she had been. His fingers traveled up more, though, because he simply wanted to. She had been good and the privacy in their care was enough to make him feel slightly more comfortable, up the further it could go on her thigh as he continued the massage.

“I’m proud of you, baby. I like when you listen to me. Makes me happy. Especially because it means I get to reward you instead of punishing you. I think you like it either way, though.”’

She liked being good. It was difficult at times to keep it together, but she knew it was better to wait and get what she wanted. Especially when she was still learning his sweetness.

There would come a time when she wouldn’t be so patient, where his need for dominance wouldn’t stop her from pushing for what she wanted. Today wasn’t one of those days, today she wanted to let him take her the way he’d been thinking about in that dressing room.

“I like making you happy, I hope you like making me happy too.” She said with a small smile, turning her head to look at him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. “Who would have thought Mr. Reaper was a softy deep down hmm?”

“Mm… no one.” He smirked. They were too busy being terrified that he was going to be one they saw before they met their maker. She was the only one who saw him in this sort of way.

That made her smug. A little arrogant. No one else got to see him like this. But a question caught her curious mind before she could help it, really. Maybe she didn’t want to know the answers but she wanted to ask.

“So… no other girls get to have you like me?” She peeped, picking at her cuticles, avoiding his eyes. “You don’t like…” her pause was anxious. “You don’t take them shopping and call them cute names?”

He didn’t mean to, but he laughed. A real laugh that had his head bobbing, his head shaking no as he squeezed her leg nice and firm. The question was hilarious, all things considered.

“Absolutely the fuck not, babe.” He chuckled. “I… I fuck them and get the fuck out of there quicker than they can redress. I know it makes me sound like an ass- but they knew the score. No promises. I’m not a good guy, Bunny. But I’m trying to be the best I can for you.”

She knew better than to ask why, but her eyes lingered on his profile and admired the way his jaw clenched slightly probably expecting her to say something.

“How is it going so far? Do you like it?” She asked softly, her attempt at calming her mind while his hands proceeded to bring warmth between her thighs. Y/N remembered him saying he never had any girls over at his, this further confirmed her suspicions. She really was the only one he’d been treating this way.

What did that say about her? She didn’t want to get too excited, but to think she could be special to him really did boost her confidence.

“Cause I really like it… it suits you, ya know?”

His fingers drummed on her thigh as she spoke, feeling a bit reassured as she spoke about liking his soft side. It wasn’t something he was sure she would.

His appeal was the bad boy, let me take you for a spin, biker fantasy. He attracted people who wanted to be fucked hard, given when their partners couldn’t give them. They didn’t see him as capable of the softer shit- and thank god for that. He usually wasn’t.

With Y/N? With his Bunny? He couldn’t imagine not taking care of her afterward. Not taking time to hold her and brush the hair from her face, kiss her. It was rare he did that with anyone else, too.

She was just a juxtaposition of things he usually avoided, yet utterly craved with her.

“Does it? Y��like me being sweet on you?” He murmured. “I do. Wouldn’t have it on anyone else though.” They’d get the wrong idea. With Bunny, he didn’t mind if she thought he wanted to keep her around. He did more than ever.

She felt rather proud of herself for it, that she of all people was the one to crack the terrifying Reaper. It was easy, she’d just watched him from the sidelines with her brother. Sterling always had a good judge of character.

“Like when you’re rough with me too.” Bunny felt like she had to say it, she was used to being babies all the time. His rough touch was a good reminder that she could take more despite what others thought of her. She liked the rush she felt and how confident he was that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“You said you didn’t like punishing me earlier… is that true?” Y/N expected Harry to have some sadistic tendencies considering all the people he killed. His need for justice. Surely the thought of her whimpering in a bit of pain or fright excited him. He wouldn’t take it too far with her, right?

“Well… no. I do like punishing you. But I like doing it by giving you pleasure.” He admitted. Of course, he had some mean tendencies. “Love calling you names and making you beg. But I want you to beg me to stop because it feels good.” He let his pinky finger brush the outside of her cunt, feeling her stiffen a bit but continuing on as if he didn’t do anything.

“I’m… very much looking forward to being rougher and exploring what you like. What your limits are. I don’t think I have any.” Not with her, anyways. “I like to baby you… like to take care of you after. But I liked when I had you suck me off and took it away. I like making you earn it. Because we have to be honest…” He smirked while keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re a greedy little thing for me. A slut. I like hearing you beg. Would love to see your pretty eyes cry for me because you want it so badly. But I’ll give it to you.”

“We have plenty of time to do that.” She told him, knowing that it would all unravel with time. The two of them could barely keep their hands off each other, she expected to find out lots about their relationship in the time to come.

“Think you can show me a lot of things I’d like… you definitely have more experience than I do with these things.” Y/N’s responses to him were all natural, she didn’t really have a plan whenever she decided to seduce him. It was much more exciting not knowing what he would do next. Thrilling even.

“Please tell me we are almost home.” Bunny couldn’t wait any longer, every stroke of his fingers had her clenching to relieve some of the pain. Yes, pain. She wanted it so bad it almost hurt.

“Gonna put on that black set and you can do whatever you want.”

—-

Harry was sitting patiently on his bed.

They’d gotten home unscathed because he had physically wrenched his hand away when she started shifting her hips towards his hand, knowing if he didn’t stop he would take her in the car.

As soon as he buried the son of a bitch, he would be taking her places to fuck her specifically. Harry was a big fan of, exhibitionism, even if he was selfish with Y/N. People could look. But he would be damned if they touched.

“Bunny, baby.” He called out. “You’re stalling.” She had been in the bathroom for a bit and he knew that she was aware that she was in for it as soon as she came out. “Want t’see the pretty thing you’ve bought for me to rip off. Come show me how pretty you look.” He was taunting her, and himself. He was hard and wanting, now that they were home safe.

Bunny didn’t mean to stall, but she did want to take a moment to collect himself. She did look amazing. It’s something she definitely would have picked for herself, but would be too nervous to wear for anyone.

It could be a bit much, but that seemed to be just his style. The straps dug into her skin in all the right places, she looked absolutely amazing. This time she had sorted out the clips and even added some knee high tights to complete the look.

“Hold on, you have to wait.” Bunny fixed her hair one last time before taking a step out. She stood there for a moment so he could get a good look at her, doing a little spin for him.

“M’not a patient man.” He murmured to her, eyes taking in her body as she finally exposed herself to him.

The outdid was incredible, really. Lacy babydoll type of thing, black contrasting against her skin. Her hair was in curls down her shoulders, swaying as she moved. The panties underneath clipped to the knee highs making him clench his jaw.

Such a shame all of it was going to be ruined.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” He said quietly. She was too pretty and it made him feel unworthy of her. Even if the darker clothing and the hint of desperation in her eyes made it easier to indulge, the feeling still lingered.

Right now, though, he was pushing it away for his own selfish gain. He wanted her and he wanted her fully.

“Come stand in front of me then.” He rested his hands on his knees, eyes dark as they took in her approaching form. He could feel her eagerness, her want just as much as he could feel his own.

“See… if you keep going with this well behaved streak, you are going to be a very spoiled girl.” He tapped his fingers against his jeans, head tilted up as she stood with her hands behind her back waiting for instruction.

“How needy are you, angel? Are you still gagging for it? Or do you think you can wait?”

She let out a whimper at the idea of waiting any longer. She was here anyways, what could a few more moments really change? If anything, it would only result in more praise. Hesitantly, she decided to agree to his terms.

“I think I can wait a little bit.” It was her attempt at trying to be honest, he didn’t have to ask to know she was needy. She really wanted him. Badly. Last night and this morning hadn’t been enough, she swore it could only get better and better from here on out.

“Can I have a kiss please?” Bunny felt like this would become a habit. Her asking for kisses before they participate in the most sexually explicit acts. Harry was good at speaking filth. It was something that was both expected and unexpected from him. The words he picked for her she couldn’t imagine him speaking to anyone else. She didn’t want to. In her eyes, she was the only one.

He melted a little at the request for a kiss. Like he would ever want to deny her a kiss and himself of a taste. But- she knew to ask. She knew that he liked when she had that obedience and he could only be grateful that she was a good girl like this.

“Course you can. C’mere.” standing up, he wrapped his fingers around her jaw and tilted her up so he could cover his lips with her own. Gentle and delicate and sweet, he kissed her lightly and let her melt into his body, hands clutching the bottom of his shirt.

“That’s a good girl.” He murmured against her mouth, pulling back to look down at her damp lips and wide eyes. “Love this mouth. Tastes so good, love the sounds that come out of it… but I especially love the way it feels on me.” He kept his grip with one hand, the other tracing over the lace on her sides.

“You look so pretty. So sexy. Got this innocent little face, but then you get to your body… and fuck, it makes me want to ruin you. Already have some of my marks on this smooth skin, you’re something that I’ve been craving for a long time. Just sinking into your cunt this morning wasn’t enough.” He could never have enough.

“So I want you to get on your knees for me and play with Daddy’s prick. Want to feel you kiss it and suck, because I know you want it in your mouth. Almost did it in the dressing room, didn’t you?”

She felt herself clench around nothing at his words, put under a spell after the sweet kiss he’d laid on her. Bunny wouldn’t have it any other way, if he wanted her now he’d have her. Anyway he liked.

“Yeah…” A shy breath was all she could manage, her cheeks feeling at the thought. “Wanted to make you feel good.” She felt so much power when she’d sucked him off in the kitchen. Seeing him surrender to the pleasure made her feel on top of the world.

“Work so hard to keep me safe, wanna make it worth your while…” Of course, she would have done it anyway, but surely he would be happy to hear that. Slowly she made her decent, but not before pressing kisses down his clothed chest and stomach on her way down.

“I love your cock so much,” She wasn’t lying, she really hadn’t been so obsessed with someone’s dick before. The way it felt inside her, the sheer size, the way it looked… she couldn’t have picked a better option. “Wanna feel it all the time.”

“I know you do, darling. I can see it in your eyes.” That wasn’t an exaggeration either. The night before, the night she had sucked him off, even today in the dressing rooms she had looked incredibly hungry for him. He didn’t want that to stop.

“I’ll keep you safe in any way but… you’re right. Like this incentive.” He gathered her hair back, wrapping it around his fist lightly. He had the control of her head but he liked to let her think she was going to have it for a bit.

“Go ahead and get it out.” He was a tiny bit impatient today because he had been essentially edged the entire time, especially in the fucking lingerie store. Just seeing her now all dressed up in a pretty thing he had bought for her was enough to make him want to do incredibly disgusting things to her.

“Remember what you did last time, hm? Gave it some kisses? Why don’t you do that? Thank me for making you cum last night.” He was being nice right now, but that could very soon change.

Unbuckling the belt and unzipping his jeans with speed, she did her best not to rush with pulling him out as well. Slow and steady, not to seem too eager. It came naturally to her to press kisses against him, smiling at how hard he was.

“How long have you been hard for, daddy?” The name rolled off her tongue, the eyes she was giving him were mischievous. She wouldn’t dare test him now. “Can I…” She toyed with the waistband, pressing kisses against his length closer to where it was peeking out of his boxers. Yes. He was that hard.

“I like dressing up for you, want you to pick things out for me more often.” Maybe that was a kink of hers she had only discovered because of him. She had a feeling that would be happening more often than not.

“Been hard since the first dressing room when I saw you undressing me with your eyes.” He rarely held things back in this regard. Sexually, he was able to be open and honest, and raw. Outside of that, his vulnerabilities got in the way and he clammed up. But with her mouth on his cock, she could coax most answers from jinx

“And then it was bad when we got to your store and I couldn’t just bend you over and fuck you in there. I will, one day. I’ll make you limp leaving those changing rooms, my cum inside of you.” That was an appeal too. The more primal part of owning her. “But we had to wait until now. I still get to see you dressed up… but now I’m going to be able to hear you moan for me.” He stroked the top of her head as he urged her down towards his balls. They were full and heavy, sensitive, and needed a little bit of her attention.

“Give them a kiss, angel.”

She followed his direction, pressing kisses and kitten licks to his swollen balls. He gasped at first, the groan that followed was music to her ears. Her face was growing warm, a smile appearing on her face at his pleasure.

“More?” Bunny asked, allowing her lips to take a bit more into her mouth with a gentle suck. Her tongue glided across the thin, sensitive skin with care. She knew he could take a lot more, that he would take more. All she had to do was be patient and listen to him. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Y/N pulled away from him with a pop, pausing for a breath. She could feel her heart rate picking up. The rush of endorphins already made her feel high. Remembering what he liked most, it was easy to repeat the actions while her hands worked on massaging his thighs.

“See? What a fucking natural. You know how to pleasure me.” He was impressed. Very impressed, really, because Y/N was truly weak for him. She wanted to pleasure him just as badly as he wanted to pleasure her. “And you’re filthy. Wish I could take a picture of you down there. You’re making a bit of a mess but you’ll do anything to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She bleated, looking up at him with wet lips before licking up the length of his cock. “I love it. Like being dirty for you.” Without being prompted she took the head of his cock into her mouth, moaning as the taste hit her tongue. This was exactly the type of thing she had needed after the day long edging, lips wrapped around the tip and sucking softly to help herself.

“Just for me.” He warned. “My good little girl. Only letting yourself see how deprived you actually are with me.”

As if she would ever think to leave. She’d been waiting for so long to finally have him, there was no way she’d give him up so easily. Not when he proved to be everything she wanted and more. They hadn’t even properly gotten into things yet.

The weight of his cock on her tongue was enough to pull her eyes to close. Slowly she took more and more of him into her mouth, it felt divinely guided, she was following her desire and it was leading her down a messy and dirty path. She pulled back slightly only to spit over him, spreading it along his shaft with her tongue flat.

She wished in that moment that he could take a photo. It was far too risky, but hopefully, this nightmare would be over soon. They could get back to doing what they did best. Hopefully, this wasn’t just a temporary thing, that he was being honest when he said he wanted this for just as long as she had.

“God- fuck. That’s the shit I like. Spitting on it like that…” He hissed, admiring the mess the was making on his length. Harry was a sucker for messy sex, especially messy blowies- but having Y/N be the one to do it was another level.

She listened clearly to his likes, sitting up again to spit thickly on him a second time, and used her hand to help spread it while she sucked him back into her mouth. The groan of arousal that fell from his lips was her reward, a beautiful one at that.

“Got lucky with you, didn’t I? You’re locked up with me but now I can show you exactly how it is to have good sex. It isn’t hard to teach when I’ve got such an eager little slut on my hands.” He praised mix with the degradation, the pair making her moan against his cock. This was what she liked. His dirty mouth doing both at the same time. “You can take more. You were gagging for it earlier- go ahead. Stuff me down that throat.”

She was holding back, it was true. Bunny wanted more, needed more, but was just waiting for the green light. The slight push forward he gave her was enough to have her take him as far as she could.

Her eyes blinked open, looking up at him with teary eyes as she continued to suck and drool all over him. He loved it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of hers, watching her as she fully relaxed in his grip. His perfect bunny, he groaned at the thought.

“Fuck… might have to keep you forever, hmm?” Harry let out a grunt, “Can’t let you out of my sight. Think they even have a chance with you… I’m going to ruin you.” He meant it in the best way. Harry wanted to ruin her for everyone, she’d never be satisfied.

Just when he felt himself at the back of her throat he pushed himself a little deeper, tugging at the roots of her hair securely.

“Remember you’re mine.”

She gasped around his cock as he pulled it back out, the wet strings of spit connecting her lips to his length as her hand continued to stroke it. He was pleased with her, but the words he said set a little fire in her stomach.

“Mhm. Yours. Should keep me.” She rasped, eyes wide and hot as she took the tip back into her mouth and lowered her head back down. He fucked into her mouth a bit, grunting as he felt her drool dripping down his balls. Just how he liked them.

“That’s right. M’glad you know that you’re mine. This perfect fucking throat is mine too. Such a good little cockslut.” He crooned, pulling her off and up to her feet. His lips pressed against hers even with his taste and her messy face.

“I don’t even know which position to fuck you in. You look so good…”

It was then as he trailed off that Harry had an idea.

“Baby… You still with me?” He hummed, pressing kisses to her face. “You look so pretty, would be a waste if you didn’t see it for yourself… wouldn’t it?” It was then that his hand cradled her jaw and guided her view towards the standing mirror at the foot of his bed.

“Can you turn around for me, my bunny?” He felt a smirk grow on his face. Harry was ready to tease her a bit more, some more tender love and care to the body he loved oh so much. In case she wasn’t aware, he wanted her to see all that he adored.

“Been so good for me, waiting so patiently…” His hands smoothed over her hips, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as he stood behind her, his hands stroking over her body as she looked at the pair of them. It brought her back to the dressing room, seeing how good they looked together in that mirror. How they fit.

This time it was more erotic, the droop of her eyes and her slightly wet chin, the need obvious in her face and his cock against the lace of her body suit. His fingers dragged down, her head lulling back onto his shoulder as his hand cupped her cunt.

A breathless moan left her lips as he held her there, humming deep in his chest as his chin rested against the side of her head. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at you. Look at us.” He coaxed.

She obeyed, looking with hooded eyes as his own pierced hers through the mirror. “You look so fucking good, my Bunny. Especially when you dress up for me… my hand holding your cunt. You gave it to me, didn’t you? Handed it right over. And now it’s mind. You’re soaking, ruining the bottom of this pretty set… but you got so needy while sucking me.” His voice broke the quiet of the room, watching her chest heaving slightly as he spoke. “I think we need to reward you. What do you want?”

Anything.

God she would take anything at this moment just to feel some kind of relief. She wanted his mouth, but she was too impatient. She wanted his fingers, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Bunny wanted to feel full.

“I want your cock inside me… please Daddy.”

Harry nearly choked at the softness of her tone, how she went weak to his touch. He swore in that moment he couldn’t let anyone else see her this way. Her vulnerability was something he cherished and vowed to protect, despite the disrespectful thoughts running through his mind.

“I know you do,“ His voice was calm and collected in contrast to what was going on inside of him. “Don’t even want to undress you, look so pretty little dolly.” Harry cooed as he touched and pushed her panties to the side. Wetness coated his fingers instantly and he couldn’t hold back the animalistic groan that left him.

“Bunny,“ He had to take a deep breath to collect himself before he pinned her down to the floor and forgot the whole point of the mirror.

She inhaled sharply as she felt his finger press inside of her, arching slightly to press herself closer to his hand. It was incredible, his touch working its deprived magic over her as she let him do as he pleased.

“More.” She breathed, turning her head and tucking her face under his chin. “More, give me some more. You’ve been teasing and I just want- I need you inside of me so bad, I’m begging.” She had been edged all day long with their foreplay, her body thrumming with need.

“Shhh.” He quieted her down. “I was just getting a feel of your cunt, baby. Trying to see if my cum was still in there.” He never went raw with anyone else, would reject that in a heartbeat. But the only place he wanted to unload was buried deep inside of her. It was a primal thing, probably, but he got a sick satisfaction watching it drip out of her earlier.

“Are y’gonna let me inside of you without a condom, baby? Because I want to fill you up again. I think that’s where my cum belongs.. inside this tight little hole.” He was giving her a chance to tell him no, but prayed she would let it happen again.

In all fairness, she wasn’t in the mindset to say no. She wouldn’t have denied him anyway. It was Harry. It seemed that was the response to everything these days. There was no one she trusted more than him besides her brother. This wasn’t circumstantial.

Even without his protection, she would still want him to fill her with his cum.

“Please… just wanna cum, just wanna cum for you all over, want to get it all wet, want to feel you in my belly— I want you, please don’t make me wait anymore!” She was on the verge of tears, his short strokes over her clit doing little to nothing to dull the ache.

“I’ll do anything you want! Please! Please, please, please, ple—AH” She gasped as he pulled his fingers from her, placing one loud slap over her thigh. Enough to get her attention but not to hurt her.

“That’s pathetic, my angel. So fucking pathetic. Almost in tears because you want my cock that fucking bad?” He grinned and looked into the mirror, using his other hand to fore her face to look at her.

“Look at you, pet. My pretty little whore. Begging for cock, this perfect wet cunt begging just as much as your mouth. M’gonna give it to you, but I want you to watch. Do you understand?”

His fingers pulled from her cunt and she nearly sobbed at the loss, but her protest was muffled as his fingers were stuffed into her mouth. She began to suck instinctually, tasting her arousal all over the digits.

“Clean up your mess. Not the first one you’re going to be cleaning tonight. Brace your hands on the mirror.” He instructed, watching as she did as asked. “Arch your back and stick that pretty ass out for me. There’s my girl.�� His murmur was soft, his hands stroking over the skin before he praised her again. “Keep your eyes on us. Don’t look away or I’ll stop.”

His cock was swiped over her weeping cunt, the tip sensitive as he held back a hiss at how good the wet heat felt even just brushed. “Tell me to fuck you, and you can have it.”

“Please fuck me, fuck me, please-” Bunny begged, letting out a shaky breath at her own impatience. Her desperation was obvious, panting a bit now that his fingers were free from her mouth. Harry had never seen something so sincere. A tear fell down her cheek, her hips slightly moving back against him while her hands gripped the mirror.

“Please.” It came out as a breath, making eye contact with him in the mirror. Y/N had reached a breaking point, but she’d never felt so good.

Harry couldn’t hold back a smile at the sight of the tear. She submitted to him fully once again and he was in awe of how perfect she truly was. So willing to give in to him just as willing as he was to please her. How could he ever deny her after this?

“Shhh… baby, relax. Just a second.” Harry cooed, watching the tension leave her body at the news. In one swift motion, he pushed inside of her, doing his best to stay quiet so he could hear her clearly.

“Oh- fuck.” She whimpered, her mouth falling open as he pushed into her. There was still a bit of sensitivity from being fucked last night and this morning, but it almost made it better. The tiny bite of pain as he stretched her open made her breathing quicken. “God, you’re so fucking big.”

It was a stroke to his ego. Looking at her face as she took him paired with the words that fell from her pretty mouth, he hummed as his hands squeezed her hips. “And you’re going to take every single inch. Because you were made to take it.” He kissed her shoulder lightly, eyes on hers as he sunk in a bit deeper before finally filling her to the hilt.

“Are you thinking about how it would have been if I’d given in to you earlier? If I just sunk myself into this pussy in that dressing room? Because I thought about it all fucking day.” He rasped, grinding against her a bit as he felt her clench and adjust to his size. “I was so tempted to do it, even though your naughty mouth doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up. There’s no way you could keep quiet when my cock is inside of you.” His lips brushed her shoulder again as he kissed the other one, a smirk rising on the corner of his lips. “But you love the idea of being caught. Of being heard. I can tell.”

It was hard for her to keep her eyes on them. The intimacy of looking deep into her own eyes, being face to face with her own pleasure was overwhelming. The visual of him looking over her, the way she could see his muscles flexing with every thrust. She already felt her knees threatening to buckle.

“Mmm— I wanted you to keep me quiet.” Something about his hand holding her mouth shut while he fucked her against the wall. Similar to what they were doing right now, actually. “Feels so good, want it harder. I can take it, promise.” It was addicting, the way he pushed into her with such vigor, feeling desired.

“Want you to cum inside again,” Bunny couldn’t hold back her whining, “I want to do this every day, want— wanna feel your cum drip out of me, wannAH!” Harry always liked to surprise her with a hard thrust mid sentence. It was a way to get her attention, a way for him to assert his power.

“Want so many things, my spoiled little dolly…” Harry mumbled, thrusting relentlessly. “So impatient once you get a taste— did you not wait enough today?” He let out a harsh breath through his nose.

“I waited, I was so good, please.” She whispered, blinking away the needy tears in her eyes. If she started crying she likely wouldn’t stop. Her hands gripped the mirror as she looked at them both, his hands gripping her hips so tightly it paled the skin. Her body was hot under his touch, eyes shutting momentarily as he tugged her back harder on his cock with a grunt.

His cock was hard and thick and stretched her so perfectly, barely giving her a second to adjust. Instead, she had lost her breath, feeling his balls thwack against her clit. Being fucked standing up like this was taking her air.

“Fuck…” The whine was desperate, Harry watching her face as her eyes rolled back. She looked incredible like this. Her face slack with pleasure, body tense as he fucked into her with powerful motions. She was dripping down him, making his body even slicker to give it to her.

“Let me see those eyes.” He growled, releasing one of her hips to grab her throat. His hand collared her neck firmly, not squeezing but letting her be aware he was fully in control. That itself had her cunt gushing, eyes snapping open to meet his. “Look at me while I own you. This body is mine. D’you understand me?” His lips brushed her ear. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.” She whimpered out, eyes locked on his through the mirror. In her peripheral she could still see him sliding inside of her, her tits nearly bursting out of the outfit she had on at the intensity of his thrusts.

“It’s yours. It’s always been yours. ” Bunny was struggling to keep her eyes open, whimpers leaving her mouth. They’d had sex in the shower before and it felt similar to this, but the mirror definitely added a whole new element to it.

“Wanna dress up for you more, wanna do all kinds of things with you, just your little cockslut!” She felt more tears threatening to spill, his hand had moved to rub over her clit and the pleasure overwhelmed her. “Oh my— ah! Fuck! Harry, please please please!”

“That’s my good little whore. Keep begging me.” He grunted, feeling her body growing weaker in his grasp. Her poor legs were shaking as she took a pounding and he knew that she wouldn’t be able to last much longer standing up.

He decided to pull out. Y/N cried out at the loss, babbling about putting it back but Harry was quick to turn her around and bend her over the edge of the bed.

“My needy slut. Your legs were about to give out. Needed you on a surface you could finally give in and hand yourself to me.” His hand came down on her ass roughly, her body jolting at the hit.

“Put it back, give it back, I need it. I need it. Please.” She whined, pressing her ass back as Harry teased her clit with the tip. He gave in to her wishes, the wet flesh parting to take him back into her needy cunt with a cry of relief.

“Yes, yes- thank you, Daddy. Thank you.” She wailed, gripping the blanket as he gave it to her deep. So deep and full, her stomach clenched each time.

Harry couldn’t control himself, it was taking everything in him not to rip the remaining fabric on her body. His hands had left a perfect hue of red over the swell of her ass, smoothing over the skin only to place another sharp spank.

“God, you get better every time? How do you do it angel, hm?” Harry could feel himself coming closer to the edge, his face feeling warm now that the room was filled with heat from their filthy acts. “Go on, tell me your secret?” He purred, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

Bunny shuddered at the sensitivity his whisper triggered, the grazing of his teeth against her earlobe only adding to the mess she was making. Every part of her felt like it was on fire, vibrating with every new touch.

“Was made for you- I was…” she gasped, feeling each and every inch as she filled him. It would be embarrassing how wet she was if he obviously didn’t love it. “It’s your pussy, Harry. It belongs to you. I don’t want a-anyone else inside me.”

The declaration of his ownership went straight to his blood. That’s the type of shit he wanted to hear, especially balls deep inside of her weeping cunt. It was wet and hot and clenching around him harder than it had this morning, seemingly enjoying the deep fuck he was giving. He was a mess- his thighs and balls wet with her slick arousal, her body generously coating him in the proof of her need for him.

“I’m so glad… you and your body know that. It’ll never get better. No one will ever fuck you better than me. This has always been my cunt. Filthy fucking whore.. rubbing yourself in your bed thinking about me while m’at your house with your brother… wanting me to sneak into your room. Yeah, your body’s always belonged to me.”

“Harry— I’m so close, please! Don’t stop, right there, just like that!” Her knuckles turned white from the grip on the bedsheets. The imagery of him fucking her forever was honestly all it took. She’d never felt more satisfied than with him, the way he worshiped her body and mind felt far better than anything she could have imagined.

Never would she have guessed it could be like this. The sound of slapping skin kept Harry’s rhythm for him, his hot breath fanning over her skin.

“So fucking wet for me, listen to you.” He growled, staying quiet for a moment to focus on the sound of her squelching pussy. Harry sponged kisses over her shoulders, nipping the skin here and there to leave small marks. He loved the way she looked adorned in them.

“Make your mess baby, go on… wanna see how hard you can cum for me. Let go.”

Y/N was a wreck. Her body shuddered as his kisses lingered on her shoulder, the heavy sounds of their breathing mixed in with the sounds of pleasure filling up the bedroom. His cock was hitting just right, just at the spot he was claiming as his own and it made her body feel flooded with euphoria. Every bit of him against her was making her crazy.

She tried to reply but she couldn’t. Instead, her body trembled under him as the orgasm overtook her. A broken scream left her swollen lips, a gush of arousal soaking Harry’s cock as he pressed himself down onto her body.

“Fucccck. Perfect fucking pussy.” He grunted, his deep thrusts overtaken by her orgasm. He was so close, so close to the edge and her cunt was trying to milk it from him the best it could.

“M’gonna give you all my cum.” He growled against her ear, the hot words making her shudder as she felt them. “Gonna fill this hole up, mark it as mine. Soon M’gonna fill every one of your holes with my load. Mmm..” he groaned into her neck, keeping her pinned under him. “Ask me nicely for it.”

“Please, daddy… want you to fill me. I want to feel full of you, want it to drip down out of me…” Still breathing heavily, Bunny let out a hum at the feeling of his needy thrusts. She could tell he was getting closer.

“Please! Let me have it, I love how deep I can feel you— why don’t you cum for me?” Y/N squeezed around him just right, purring at the sounds of his strangled groans. Harry wasn’t afraid to moan in her ear, sending goosebumps over her skin.

He fucked her so raw and real, she’d never known sex to be this good before. He loved her body, he never let her forget it. It seemed he also loved her soul, the way he seemed to understand just what to do and how to move.

This was what sex with feelings was like? He understood the hype now. Why people said ‘just wait.’

Sex had always been a mechanical function, something fun, a stress reliever- but god damn, this was something otherworldly. Going bare inside of her, tending to her pleasure, letting her satisfaction become a part of his?

Fuck, he was obsessed.

It didn’t take much but a few more strokes for him to unload deep inside of her, groaning into her neck as his thrusts got sloppy, trying his best to fuck his cum as deep as he could. It was all pure instinct at this point. No guidance from experience would explain his primal need for her and his need to mark her inside and out.

Bunny whimpered at the feeling of him unloading into her, his whole body seemed to soften and his demeanor dropped for a few moments. He was just Harry, fully relaxed and open to the love Bunny was offering. He couldn’t resist her, nuzzling against her neck and pressing kisses and bites to her skin.

“You’re so perfect, bunny…” He mumbled, releasing the small nip of skin he had pulled between his teeth. “Such a perfect girl, I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you.” He whispered, staying deep inside her as he spoke.

With his chest rising and falling, he shifted off from on top of her while placing kisses all down her back. As much as he’d like to stay like that with her forever, the two of them could use some cleaning up.

His heart was still beating hard in his chest, reverberating into his ears as he winced at the cool air on his cock. His eyes though were focused on her cunt. His hands spread her open again, watching the trickle of pearly white cum dribbling down her cunt.

That alone was a sight he wanted to commit to memory. It would be enough to get him to a second round if he allowed himself, but instead, he chose to swipe the mess with his fingers and push it back into her sensitive hole.

Bunny whimpered at the feeling of two of his fingers sliding back into her used cunt, but she didn’t pull away. She let him, the pure filth of the idea of him making sure his load stayed inside of her making her clench a little.

“Shh. Don’t get all worked up again. Just putting my cum where it belongs.” He kissed the small of her back, pulling his fingers out and raising back up to her.

Ever so gently, he curled his hand around her face and slipped the digits into her lips, a surprised noise masked by instinctual sucking. The pure ease of his dirty action, how natural it felt and the taste of them mixed with his fingers made her sigh. He made sure she cleaned them well before pulling them out with a ‘pop’, turning her face to the side, and kissing her deeply. The man needed to taste him on her tongue.

“Thank you, baby.” He pulled back, exhaling against her lips. “Think we need to clean you up, yeah?”

———————————

This was new for both of them.

Y/N hadn’t taken a bath in ages let alone with a guy. Harry? Hell, he’d never thought he’d be sat in his bath gently washing a girl off with an exfoliating cloth. He pressed a few kisses to her shoulders, letting her relax into his hold while she sat between his legs. They hadn’t said much to each other since getting into the bath, but it didn’t feel like they needed to.

“Harry…” Bunny’s voice broke him away from his train of thought. “I had a lot of fun with you today,” She was shy telling him this but she was positive no one had ever gotten the chance to tell him something so pure. Sure their day was full of teasing, sexual tension, and sex, but she had felt at ease in a way she hadn’t felt since this all started.

“Was nice to just forget about everything going on and just feel normal…” She explained, turning her head to face him. “Thank you.”

“Y’don’t have to thank me.” He replied, looking into her soft eyes. The warm water of their bath had soothed them. They’d showered briefly to get the sweat and cum off of them before letting the bath fill, Harry was finally able to use the bath salts he had purchased a while ago when he’d suffered a bit of a beating during a fight again. They smelled like lavender and smoothed up their skin quite nicely.

“I had a good time too. I’m going to make sure that soon you can go out and do shit whenever you want without looking over your shoulder.” He kissed her cheek, his tone meaning it was final. There was no way he would rest until this bastard was dead.

“M’sorry that you even have to go through this shit. That... men are creeps. Don’t understand why or how they come up with shit like this. I can’t say I don’t understand your appeal, you’re fucking great.” He murmured, gaining a soft smile from the girl in his arms. “But that doesn’t mean you go out and stalk a girl for it. It just… it makes me sick knowing you’ve felt this way for a while and someone’s been preying on you.” He wished she had told him sooner. Of course, he understood to a degree why she didn’t- but he didn’t fully get it. That was a conversation for another day.

“What was your favorite part?”

There had been a few rare occasions where she was able to speak with him like this, where she felt like she was getting the real side of him reserved for people like Sterling and now her. Harry had a good moral compass, respected innocent people, and cherished their humanity.

“My favorite part?” Bunny smiled back up at him and turned to press a few kisses on his arm. “I liked seeing you try the shirts on… it sounds silly but just seeing you check yourself out in the mirror and hyping yourself up. It was nice.” She really did find it wholesome, the idea of big bad reaper being just a normal guy who still wanted to know if a shirt looked good on him.

“But I think this is my favorite part though,” Bunny admitted, keeping her eyes on him despite how small she felt at that moment. It was sweet. He never let her shy away from it, even let himself dive into it at times. She’d never felt so close to someone.

“Yeah?” He smiled, moving the washcloth chastely with the soapy mix over her chest. It wasn’t sexual in the slightest, even though Harry could go again if she asked. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of her and her body. Her pleasure. It was a new addiction for him.

“I liked it all, I think. Especially seeing you try those things on. Gave me a bit of blue balls but you rectified that situation very well.” He teased with a chuckle, dipping the cloth into the water to rinse the soap off of her.

“You know I’m going to take care of you, right? I’m going to make sure you’re safe no matter what. I know you may not love my decisions sometimes but I hope you can see why I make them.”

He still felt a bit insecure because he knew he was a bad man. He wasn’t good enough for a woman like Y/N. He could never be normal, not when the deepest and darkest parts of him yearned to make people pay for their sins and take them to the afterlife. She hadn’t fully seen him in it, which is surely why she looked at him with rose colored glasses.

As fucked up as it is, he was going to take advantage and soak in that as long as he could. Make sure he got a taste of her affection and what it would be like to be hers… before the inevitable crash happened once she saw what type of monster he really was.

Seeing him smile was all the humanity she needed from him. Reaper rarely smiled, she’d like to think she was the only one who’d ever seen this one. It made her heart swell, to think that she could make him happy. Genuinely happy. To her it didn’t matter who he was or what he did, she knew that behind all of this was a broken young boy who just wanted to be loved.

“I know… you’ve always been there.” Bunny thought back to the time just last year. The reason her brother had left, well, part of the reason. “When dad died and Sterling took off… I didn’t know if Mama and I would make it.”

Bunny had known from a young age her father was always getting into trouble. The bruises on his knuckles, the scars that accumulated over time. He’d always told her it was nothing to worry about, till one day he didn’t come home.

“I just… wish I knew more? Know you were all just trying to protect me, but even Mama couldn’t tell me what happened.”

Harry stiffened slightly at the mention of this topic.

Fuck.

He pulled her closer to him, kissing her jaw as he exhaled tiredly. Did she really want to know? “Because the truth is something we want to protect you from. Not to say you can’t handle it… but because sometimes it feels like a gift to be ignorant of the dangers and tragedies.” He mumbled, the discomfort welling in his throat.

“If you truly want to know? I’ll tell you. You do deserve the truth but… we all agreed maybe you’d be better off just remembering your father as how he was. He was one of the strongest men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to keep himself from being upset. It was one of the worst days when he died. It fucked Harry up for a while, as well as most of the guys around when it happened.

None of the guys in the club would be considered model members of society. They were seen as criminals, scary men to stay away from. But there was a real brotherhood to it.

“Been to the clubhouse, know from his jacket he was one of you.” Y/N started, after all, it was her who wore her dad’s old cut now adorned with a Bunny patch. Bikes were always a part of her life, when she was little she thought it was just a hobby. Until Sterling also came home with bruises and scars. Even black eyes. It wasn’t so fun then.

“Sterling was there wasn’t he?” Her voice was quiet, “When it happened…” There was no way for her to know that other than her sisterly intuition. It all made sense to her though, why else would he take off without explanation?

It took her a long time to forgive her brother for leaving, it was Harry who always reminded her not to be so hard on him, giving her updates on what he was doing.

She fully relaxed into his hold, pulling his arms closer to her chest. Bunny just wanted to feel his weight on her, it soothed her.

“He was.” He hated thinking about that day. Harry tried his best to repress any emotions he could simply because it was easier than dealing with them. He took release in sex and fighting and the occasional binge of drugs, as cliche as all of that shit was. He knew it wasn’t what was supposed to be done but he’d never had a person he wanted to talk to.

A confidant.

“It was a deal gone wrong. I can’t tell you everything the club does. I’ll let you know that… we help people run things like guns and drugs. Your father didn’t care about that but the one thing he didn’t like was the dealing of people.” Harry despised it.

It was the most despicable thing someone could do. In his opinion, anyways.

“I can’t get into the finer details but a person we were helping a deal with… we found out the containers had people in them. Trafficking people. Your father and Viper stopped as soon as they heard the woman’s voice at a rest and opened up the container… along with the drugs, there were a few women. They weren’t of sound mind but one was lucid enough to tell us she had been taken, and that was enough for us to back out. We took the girls and put them in the cars we had tailing, took them out of there.” One of those girls still was around, working to try and clean the clubhouse. They did their best to help but not much could help the trauma she went through. “We then broke into the rest of the containers and found a few more women and we realized how many we needed to get out of there… so we did. We called and said there was an issue with border patrol and called out more people to get these women, these girls out.” Their cries and blank faces haunted him. To know in the past there may have been a woman he didn’t hear and dozens of them could have been smuggled under their noses…

“When the group we were trying to help found out what we did… a massive fight broke out.” He didn’t want to continue, but he would if she wanted more detail about her father.

“I don’t know how much you want to know… but I hope you know your father fought extremely hard. It was a dirty move and…” He swallowed, squeezing her body as he hid his face in her hair. “He died protecting women that were being taken advantage of. He died a hero to those women. I tried to save him. I uh…” He rolled his head back from her hair and rested it on the back of the tub. “It’s why my back is fucked up. They fight dirty with their weapons. The cut and the bullet wound. S’from me trying to cover his body.”

The room was still, heaviness settling around them just as the steam hugged their bodies. The sound of their breathing in sync, the stray droplets of water that bounced off the surface. Y/N let out a long shaky exhale.

It was a lot to think about. With so many thoughts clicking in her mind, Harry swore he heard the cogs turning in her head. Each thought felt like a spike, the way Bunny became aware she had no control over any of this suffering. Ignorance is bliss, but to her, the awareness was accommodating.

She moved so she was straddling his lap, sitting on the span of his thighs so she could look at him. She couldn’t have this conversation with her back faced to him. Her hand moved delicately, cupping his cheek in a hold that was so tender she felt tears prick at her eyes.

The one thing she could do, in a way words would never be able to describe, is kiss him.

It was the softest kiss she’d ever had, it was sinless. Her heart broke for them all. For the women, for her family, for him. Tears spilled from her eyes, but she didn’t bother holding them back this time. She could never express how grateful she was. How lucky she was to have him in her life, how honored she felt to know him so intimately. She pulled away after a beat, taking a second to ground herself in the moment.

Bunny loved this man.

“Thank you for telling me,” Her voice was the gentlest it’s ever been. “It’s not easy reliving those moments in your mind, I’m sorry you had to witness it.” Y/N brushed her thumb over the span of his lips and cheek. A few more tears did fall, but she’d found peace in knowing the truth.

He smiled sadly against her thumb, the little knot in his throat preventing him from speaking. Harry wasn’t a crying type of man, but he did feel emotional thinking about it. It was one of the very worst days of his life.

“I’d do it over and over if I had to. It was the right thing. I don’t regret it but… sometimes I wish that we could go back and be a bit smarter with how we planned it out.” He sighed, letting his eyes gaze into hers. She was perfect, his Bunny. She really fucking was.

“Listen…” He wanted to make sure he got something clear to her. “I know I’ve done good things. But I need you to be aware, to be reminded… m’not a good man. Maybe I can be good to you… I’d never hurt you, I’d rather die. But I’m not good. I’m rotten and dark and I have a lot of problems. I know you’ve got a good view of me now and I don’t want to ruin it, but one day you’re going to be scared of me.” He swallowed, feeling guilt from his core.

“None of us are. As I said… we are all troubled and have a skewed moral compass. We don’t hurt women, children, or animals… innocents. But I’ve got issues, Y/N. I can see you care for me, maybe even as much as I care for you. I just need you to know that before….” He swallowed again, eyes searching hers. “Before we let ourselves slip into the comfortable dynamic we’ve had the last few days. Protect yourself.”

He’d never hurt her, not on purpose, but he knew his issues lay deep.

“I tried to protect your father… I protected your brother and now I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you as long as m’breathing. I’m sorry we had to hold this from you.”

Her hand moved down to his neck, gently pushing his hair behind his shoulders. She was taking a good look at him. This monster she had been describing, she’d seen him before. The warehouse. She heard enough.

“You can hide all these parts of you from people, but you cannot hide them from me.” Bunny was certain, she knew him far too well. Her fingers toyed with the chain that hung loosely from his neck, eyes flickering back up to his.

“I know you’re capable of many horrific things, Harry, but that does not define who you are.” Y/N refused to believe that he was rotten to his core. He would never have the capacity to care for her as he did without a seed of hope in his heart. Did he really believe to be undeserving of it?

“I promise you. I know what I’m doing… I just need you to let me in.”

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thehuntfortrencherlostmedia · 5 months ago

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Hello folks.

So, I waited a while to let everything marinate in my brain before writing this. Haven is an interesting album to discuss in the grand scheme of the Trench discography. Everything feels familiar & status quo, but different, new & exciting all at once. Its production is fantastic throughout and truly allows for everything to shine. It’s also their most cinematic album to date, which is saying something given what Astoria was inspired by.

So let’s break down each track, shall we?

A Normal Life: Already gushed about this one when it came out and my thoughts haven’t changed one bit. This just might be my new favourite opener. There’s just a little sprinkling of everything from all across their discography that allows this beauty to marinate and stand on its own.

Lightning & Thunder: I’m torn. I like it still, but I do think that when you listen to it within the context of the album it loses something. It was definitely made to be a radio single. There’s nothing wrong with that.

I’m Not Getting Better: Straight to the point, catchy & fun. I really have nothing else to say on the song.

Down To You: Arguably the biggest earworm on the album. This one gets in your head and it just stays with you.

Now or Never: The By Now of the record for me. Soft & yet full of momentum all at once. This is a dream worth fighting for, indeed. Also, while both INGB & DTY show off a more R&B/Funk flow, it really sticks on this song, and now that you’ve noticed it, you’ll be hearing it a lot throughout the record.

Into The Storm: Hello, Porcelain. But also… it’s own thing. It might not be giving up, but I don’t see it as surrender either. I see it as going with the flow, facing your problems head on. This is also the first true dive into Josh’s relationship with Amanda on the album, and how he’s so happy they finally figured out how to co-exist.

Ancient History: Oh hi, Astoria. You mind if I take elements of Burning Up & Yesterday and blend them into something new? And how about the past arguments in his and Amanda’s relationship don’t matter, and how it was nice to meet back up with her. It shows how time can heal relationships. Also, SAXOPHONE. That is all.

Stand and Fight: The actual Porcelain of the record. People thought they were gonna go in a This Meets War for this song, when instead it’s a slow burn that truly stays with you.

Turn & Run: Here’s how you do a sequel song and then make it stand out from its older brother. Much like the combos of Celebrity Status/Perfect & B-Team/Toy Soldiers, both sides of the coin make me giddy inside. And holy cow… welcome to the edge indeed. That hint of Fix Me screaming… I need more of it Josh. Please? I’ll be a good girl. There’s also a lot of Masterpiece Theatre II on this one. Easily my favourite of the short songs.

Worlds Collide: I go back and forth on this one in my head. There’s parts of me that love it, there’s parts of me that feels it’s too similar to the two tracks before it…. And then we have the end. And that just… made me smile. Also, I love Josh SCREAMING “Nobody’s Safe” and the fact they left in the vocal crack. That’s how you can tell his emotions are in full display here. So yeah.

Nights Like These: The comforting palette cleanser after three songs hit you with whiplash back to back to back. It’s very reminiscent of tavern songs, sea shanty’s & is just a warm hug of a track. Also, breaking down the fact that sometimes it’s nice to have just a cozy, relaxing night with friends. Feels like the Who Do You Love of the record too.

Remember Me By: Um, Micheal? Did you just possess Josh again? This feels so 80’s R&B I can’t help but love it. Also, Ian! Nice to hear you sing, bud. We’ve heard the other three all throughout this record and now we get your voice on top of the amazing percussion. Kudos.

Haven: So, here we are. The closing track. And, it’s good. It feels like they took The Killing Kind , Masterpiece Theatre III & End of An Era Abd threw them in a blender… and the result came out great, but… it does lack something to me? And if anything, it brings out the fact this album fits into the Relationship Theory too: It is about starting anew like I said ages ago but also about how their relationship (Josh & Amanda) isn’t perfect but he loves the imperfection now that they’ve figured out how to make it work. She might’ve broke his heart once but he reconciled & became stronger because of it. And now he can show that all across these 13 tracks.

So yeah. Haven’s likely my album of the year, and I do like it. But I do think that while it has some of the highest highs the band had ever reached, I do think they didn’t fully nail the Hero’s Journey theming & that it’s not as cohesive as some of their other work. It’s a sturdy S-, easily #2 or #3 in my overall rankings, even #1 depending on the day.

#marianas trench #marianastrench #mtrench #josh ramsay #new album #haven #song breakdown #album review #music review #have a good day #GO LISTEN TO THIS RIGHT NOW OR I’LL SLAP YOU OND

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happymetalgirl · 2 months ago

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Uboa - Impossible Light

Of all the artists I've reviewed prior, Uboa is the one whose work I have the most unique whiplash with covering. I actually felt compelled to look all the way back to 2019 with my review of her grippingly monumental death-industrial breakout, The Origin of My Depression. It was an album which revolved very harrowingly around the constant and inescapable distress of gender dysphoria, and my review of it of was one of impressed but detached and analytical empathy for the autobiographical struggles that creator Xandra Metcalfe so nakedly and horrifyingly expressed on those songs. For many of the same reasons I don't frequently revisit albums like Lingua Ignota's Caligula and Sinner Get Ready (despite it being my favorite album of 2021), my re-listens have been fairly few and far between for The Origin of My Depression. It is a testament to the emotive capacity of albums like those that with such dark subject matter being so commonplace in metal and listeners like me being largely desensitized to lyrics on depression, brutality, and abject human cruelty that albums about foreign and specific personal experiences like surviving sexual assault and persisting on spite (Caligula) and confronting God about allowing it (Sinner Get Ready) and the inescapable oppressive thralls of gender dysphoria in a virulently transphobic world (The Origin of My Depression) can elicit such heartfelt pain.

A lot has changed since I reviewed The Origin of My Depression. Five years later, revisiting that seminal Uboa album for the first time in at least a year or so and sitting down with its successor, my approach to Xandra Metcalfe's crushing self-portrayal of trans life through grippingly intense music is not, this time, with a detached empathy for the trans struggle.

I do intend to maintain my anonymity and healthy distance on this blog, especially now, but I will make at least one thing about me clear because it is an unavoidable facet of a review of this album by me: I am a trans woman. This was the realization that I came to last year of a clearer vision of myself that upon realizing I wasted no time in pursuing. I consider myself one of the lucky ones, relatively: financially stable/independent, insulated at least partly from the worst legislative actions being taken against trans people, and mightily euphoric, strengthened more than I imagined I could be in my transition.

That said, I still identify, as do most trans people I know and have spoken with, deeply and personally with the intense struggles that Metcalfe poetically details on The Origin of My Depression and this new record, whose lyrics were birthed from a similar time and mind-state to its predecessor. My very fortunate mental and emotional strength in feeling as though I am very much winning the battle against my own gender dysphoria has not precluded me to sitting back and resting on my laurels, but rather has driven me to turn my efforts outward as much as I can toward the war against societal transphobia. So many of my fellow trans people suffer needlessly because of blind, stupid, disgusting hate, and their many heartbreaking stories of being trapped in the throes of dysphoria surrounded and suffocated by ignorant malice fill me with such anger that they are being kept from the fulfillment and joy that I have found in being trans, that they deserve just as much as I do. This album, like a lot of trans art, serves as a plea for compassion and help from those privileged enough to offer it in desperate and exasperated terms and a plea for perseverance in these dire times to all trans people and from Metcalfe to herself.

An emblem of life around the time of The Origin of My Depression, the lyrical content of Impossible Light was spawned during a plateau of a rising wave of anti-trans bigotry, about half a decade or so into the significant increase of visibility of trans people and the mainstreaming of the "trans issue" in public discourse in the 2010's, a discourse full of obvious lies and deception through bigotry disguised as moral panic which largely misrepresented and demonized the trans people who were sidelined in the debate on their own existence. That wave of hate from religious and right-wing bigots has only grown since then, reaching a frightening height in 2022 when Republican congressional candidates and governors made combatting transness the forefront of their electoral strategy for the midterm elections. It was a strategy that wound up failing massively in a way that would push any rational political actors away from it in the immediate future, and yet, despite losing on it, republicans held firmly to the hot potato that just burned them, a grim prognosis of the party consolidating into its most rabid devotees behind anti-electoral fascism driven by transphobic vitriol. The party shifted its losing focus on transphobia back to its winning focus on xenophobia and fear-mongering about immigrants in time to capture all branches of the U.S. federal government earlier this month from the inept and incompetent institutionally entrenched opposition party, but the transphobia never went away, and the American conservative movement's most devoted believers have been licking their lips and champing at the bit to see their most evil wishes come true for trans people through the authoritarian action of the coming administration. As a time capsule of sorts of the bleak environment of 2018, this is the even bleaker world that Uboa's next album was delivered into, and yet somehow, it's perfect for the world into which it emerges.

Impossible Light is about reaching for the unreachable: joy in a world of misery, self-worth amid ubiquitous denigration, womanhood from manhood, love in a world of hate. Created at a time when the light was at least visible and now released into a time of seemingly absolute darkness, Uboa's message might seem near-prophetic, and given the insight she expresses in the album's liner notes into the rising tide of fascism sweeping through her own home town in Australia, I imagine she probably had a feeling it was always going to go like this. But the reality is that for trans people, that light has always felt distant, if not outright unreachable; we've always weathered difficult times, we've only ever known struggle, making the essence of Impossible Light, sadly, evergreen. But the caveat to that is that so are we.

As with its predecessors, the musical content on Impossible Light is befitting of its subject matter and context: eerie darkwave ambiance with melancholic low-hummed vocals, jolting blasts of harsh noise, and existential screams of rage, agony, ecstasy, euphoria. Cavernous drones through ambient darkness become suddenly claustrophobic storms of distortion, white noise, and screaming, with "Phthalates" setting the tone via wavering hums of low-register synth hovering over the sounds of destructive industrial clanging of metal. It's very much got the feeling of the opening of an A24 horror movie. The smooth segue into the building, pounding drums over the melancholic singing of "Endocrine Disruptor" is thematically fitting and serves as a great dual opening to the album, with Metcalfe's vocals dripping with disregard serving as a representation for a lack of care for a world with a lack of any benevolent care for her. But the album's apathetic tone does not last long as the blasts of harsh noise and scratching/scrpaing industrial dissonance erupt from the brief but colossal "A Puzzle" and while a djent rhythm of all things rides the tempestuous waves of synthetic distortion and rattling drum-programming on "Gordian Worm". And all of this occurs seamlessly as a deranged progressive suite over the first 18 minutes of the album's four opening tracks, which I love as a representation of the ceaseless mental and emotional chaos of navigating the internal and external highs of euphoria and lows of dysphoria, an ethos that persists through the haunting dark of "Jawline" and the careening explosions of warping noise on "Pattern Screamers" and "Weaponized Dysphoria". It might seem from a cursory listen like it's all just kind of aimless madness and uncontrolled neurodivergent mania... until it all comes together.

While the minutia of the lyrical content is indeed very insular and contained within the trans world, the broader fighting spirit is subtly brimming from the overarching themes and emerges more stoutly as the record progresses, though not linearly and not without constant, dramatic, human flux the entire time. The mood of the album is indeed all over the place from the lofty objective of gender abolition being analogized through the fantasy of estrogen-driven mutation of "god's" nature through pollution on "Endocrine Disruptor" (an analogy for trans people's presence within the cis-heteronormative/patriarchal hegemony as inherently disruptive) to the dissociative respite of "Sleep Hygiene" that sees Uboa tempted by a return to suicidal ideation through indulgence in the escape of sleep. The album is definitely representative of a relatable and chaotic mind state very common to the trans experience, but Metcalfe brings the crucial message of queer perseverance home, with a little help from her queer friends, on the closing track, "Impossible Light / Golden Flower", which very fittingly follows the emotional exhaustion and the dejected repetition of the despondent mantra of "stay in bed" with the simple and potent singular counter of "get up and run". All the afflicted screaming, heartbroken pessimism, and dysphoric depression of the previous tracks and the catatonic escapism of "Sleep Hygiene" are brought to a beautiful and breathtaking crescendo of hope and love on the closing track's glorious multi-stage swell of a choir of organic and emphatic trans voices and catharsis through persistence and euphoria. It's the rebutting of the social narrative of transness being a curse and trans people being the shame and weakness and rot within civilization to be purged with the converse of that fascistic narrative: that in the face of so much hate and opposition trans people are strong, that being trans in a world that represses us is worthy of pride rather than shame, that being trans is a blessing rather than a curse.

It is a time of limbo for trans people now. We've never had it particularly easy as a group, and while the increased community and allyship we've found as of late has served a benefit, the past several years under the scrutiny of the cis-normative lens have been especially volatile. Republicans turned their focus back onto racialized people to win the general election, but the transphobia never withered, it only went quiescent. Even before it became an issue that directly affected me personally, I had kept up with and continue to keep up with the rise of American fascism in the republican party. Consequently I've heard a lot of Donald Trump, unfortunately, half the time at one of his many rallies, rambling like a sundowning racist grandparent about "what they've done to our country" and how unfair everyone is to him. And I have noticed, amid the dull, numbing rambling from the podium about his many grievances that becomes tedious even to his devout cultists, the reliable and resounding Pavlovian response he gets from the crowd whenever he makes some reference to anti-trans sentiment or aspirations. It is indeed a time of very anxious limbo for trans people now that the worst premonitions of a future second Trump administration have become a very possible reality, especially racialized trans people, trans kids, and trans people living under republican governors. And in a time of stockpiling HRT and scrambling for passport applications while the neoliberals who failed to defend us prepare to throw us under the bus for their loss, the plea to stay awake and keep ahead toward the impossible light at the end of the suffocatingly dark tunnel is a more desperate one than ever. Hope is scarce and reaching that increasingly distant light within our lifetimes definitely feels impossible.

But

Why should we languish and doubt ourselves? Are we not strong? Have we not already transcended and defeated gender itself? Have we not already turned over the impossible weight of millennia of gender paradigms? Trans people are so strong! The light of being who we are is already an existentially massive feat, and we are less alone in the glory of gender transcendence than ever. Why CAN'T we reach the light of simple human joy?

With the physical record, Xandra Metcalfe included a small sheet with liner notes delving into the origin of Impossible Light and its contrast to The Origin of My Depression. In it she discusses the necessity of reaching for that impossible light with motivated hope in sharp contrast to delusional optimism and toxic positivity, and in succinct terms the imperative for queer people to do so together, not alone, in community, as she does on this record in participation with other trans and non-binary peers (Tig Harutyunyan, Haela Hunt-Hendrix, otay:onii). She also directs her focus on the primary driving root cause of the suffering and bigotry in the world, capital, and the need for the few of us to act in solidarity in the face of poverty, genocide, climate destruction, apartheid, and fascism. During the time this record was put together, Metcalfe attended multiple funerals for trans friends, and the final touches of the album were done in the midst of the genocide of the people of Armenia in Artsakh by the state of Azerbaijan and the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza by the state of Israel, and Metcalfe writes about the much of the grim civilizational ills surrounding these injustices in very similar ways that I have found also myself writing about those same omnipresent ills and in a similar way that I'm sure millions have also found themselves thinking about them, with a deep sense of daunted uncertainty in even the near future. These liner notes were surely written before November 2024, but the message within them has only become more poignant.

Xandra Metcalfe's plea for collective strength among trans people is more important now than ever, as we face down the last months before heading into a fascist administration that will either moderately target us with discriminatory legal and executive action or severely demonize and scapegoat us for the pain they are about to worsen on the poor and working class people of the US and the global South through escalated parasitism of the less powerful to increase even further the concentration of wealth into the hands of the already-wealthy via a gutting of the social safety net and destruction of public communication and education. Now more than ever, we need each other.

Of the many changes I have made in my life, transitioning has been far and away the best change I have ever made. The clarity I'd never experienced before, the weight of masculinity that I was convinced for so long I just had to carry lifted off my shoulders, the euphoria of self-realization in embracing womanhood, the confidence in reaching and becoming the person I want to be even when she seemed too far beyond my grasp. It's a very strange dynamic to have that euphoria also tied to such fear of increased discrimination, of increased harassment, of being scapegoated for the ills of capitalism by capitalists, of being scapegoated for the failures of the neoliberal paid opposition party, of targeted violence, of losing it all. It's strange and disheartening to see the quick return to silence from the privileged moderate liberals who lamented Trump's electoral victory. It's strange to go to work and act like everything is fine and normal for the benefit of the same corporate bosses who threw their support behind a fascist movement that dehumanizes me to pad their bottom lines and who also plan to throw me away as soon as all the value from my labor can be extracted. But it's also strange to feel such motivation in the face of unwinnable odds. It's strange to feel such self-love and self-confidence that I never felt I deserved before. It's strange not being crippled by depression because I finally found and conquered the origin of MY depression. I have been much more hopeless in the past than I am now, and I know that I'm not alone. This album is not just a reminder that we need each other, it's a reassurance that we have each other, there are people like us who understand us. But even before that, it's a contrast to the search for an escape from the misery of the transphobic world through self-isolation and suicidal ideation of The Origin of My Depression. The thesis of Impossible Light is that there is no peace in suicidal acquiescence, no peace in defeat, and probably no peace ever for trans people, but that the impossible is worth the reach, that if you're going to be alive as a trans person then you may as well live fucking vibrantly, that there's some good in this world for us, and it's worth fighting for, and we have to do it together.

Trans liberation now.

MY album-of-the-year 2024

#Uboa #Impossible Light #Xandra Metcalfe #catgirl death industrial #death industrial #experimental music #harsh noise #noise music #darkwave #doom metal #noise metal #new music #new album #album review #trans pride #trans rights #trans liberation

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the-amazing-boop · 1 year ago

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My track by track first impressions for Unreal Unearth (with some contextualized thoughts of the singles)

De Selby Part 1 - straight into the lullabies playlist. Just perfect.

De Selby Part 2 - perfect fade in from Part 1. I couldn't have dreamt up a better, more subtle transition. Still my current creature comfort.

First Time - oh, ffs, it's bluesy and sad. Lethal combination. This might be another one on repeat later. Ow. Ouch, ow. THE FINAL TIME YOU CALLED ME "BABY". Wtf. I see why some of y'all were cussing him out on here.

Francesca - my beloved. Brutal to have this follow First Time, though. Mentally two-stepping through the tears. The bellowing at the outro still has the power to ascend me despite my replaying.

I,Carrion - another certified heartbreaker for the lullabies playlist. She's Greek, she's cosmic, she's pure love.

Eat Your Young - I am once again solidified in my conviction to refuse having children in this fucked up world. Y'all be safe.

Damage Gets Done (feat. Brandi Carlile) - Okay guitar lick! Oh the voices belting together in harmony is hitting me. I'm getting really 2010s feelings I haven't felt in forever. I feel the sudden urge to forgive myself. He's back at it again with the choral work, CAN I LIVE??

Who We Are - and just like that, I'm back on my emo shit. He really went for emotional whiplash in terms of song ordering, huh? Not me literally listening to this while engulfed in a dark room as well. Another one I'll have to repeat, I fear.

Son of Nyx - oh fuck. Oh no. Not the piano dragging along. And no words. THE CUTOFF. THE STRINGS. THE VOCALIZATIONS. It's definitely a warning. Shit's about to start hurting for real. It's so haunting and gorgeous.

All Things End - Hello, old friend, my first favorite. I'm terrified of what follows you. It was bad enough watching the man "die" on the table (my hands are in the air to receive the gospel).

To Someone From A Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe) - fucking hell. Just devastating. Idk how much more I can take.

Butchered Tongue - this hits like crazy if you have any connection to a diaspora that was nearly erased or just have ancestry DEEPLY rooted oppression and the like. Ffs, I'm gonna need stitches for a cut that deep.

Anything But - and then this happy shit. Back at it again with the whiplash, the bastard. I love it though! This is going on the light and bright playlist. I'm a sucker for sad lyrics dressed in bright colors. And the vocals?? Come on, now.

Abstract (Psychopomp) - I was right. Everything following Son of Nyx just hurts differently. Dare I say worse than the first half of the album. I really shouldn't get into how I relate OFTEN to the poor roadkill creatures in my area.

Unknown/Nth - a nice and plentiful helping of stake through the heart, as usual. The briiidge. I drown in it every time.

First Light - I'm gonna say it's an instant classic. The imagery. The love on love on love. The catharsis. The drumsss. Oh! The acoustic fade out.

Overall, he didn't bother not once to lift his heel on this album. He's outdone himself. No skips. I am foaming at the mouth, waiting for my vinyl to come in. All get 10s across the board from me. 16 works of art. I really wish I could lock myself in a room for three days to really digest this album.

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piracytheorist · 1 year ago

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Episode 33 reaction!

*incoherent screaming*

WHY DID THEY MAKE THIS CUTE. WHY DOES IT WORK. I LOVE IT.

Yor talks about how they'll just put them in that inflatable boat and then go to the other ship, but would that really work with the amount of assassins on board? All they'd need to do would be fire with a sniper while the trio were boarding.

Anyway. Caught by the smell, after all. And indeed Yor doesn't seem to have a scent that super-smeller Turtleneck Guy can pick up. Interesting!

I love how Anya didn't even have to negotiate this. She wasn't even direct about it.

Also, it looks like Anya got a little more comfortable hearing a myriad of passionate thoughts around her? Like, remember episode three, where she passed out from the amount of thoughts around her. Here she didn't seem bothered at all and thought she could "look around" for Yor's thoughts. Is that a sign that she's getting stronger and gaining more control of her power?

I love how Yor saw the two guys standing by the hallway and went like "These are probably assassins" and they were indeed assassins.

Okay. This spread is hilarious, with all the different expressions side by side, and I'm glad I had the manga in a physical copy and could see it in all its glory XD

It was so sweet, how Olka tried to calm down Gram 🥺 the voice actress did such a great work there!

They actually fit three full chapters and one short chapter in one episode, and it still didn't feel rushed, what the hell! Like they took their time showing everything. This is amazing.

I love how Gram got excited over jumping around in Yor's arms XD

The sniper got an order to kill the baby too, if possible! The fuck!

Setting a fight between assassins - which includes a lot of shooting - amidst a firework show is brilliant. The plain guests had no idea what was happening just a few meters away from them.

AND YOR GOT HURT!

The difference between their reactions at the other dodging was hilarious. The sniper went like "She dodged that???!?!" and Yor was like "Aw shucks, he dodged it."

Then. Yor. Fucking. DESTROYED. A DAGGER WITH HER BARE FINGERNAILS. What the actual fuck! (I accidentally typo-ed "bear fingernails" there but was it actually incorrect? This woman is a beast!)

And Gram is still having fun! Fireworks? Time to cry. People trying to kill them? Laughing his heart out :D

My god! The assassins coming out, and Yor doing her tricks with her stilettos before preparing her stance? The animators really understand the assignment!

Some good quick action there, McMahon coming to their help and I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SCREAMED WHEN ZEB GOT HIT.

Like they were actually falling and I was like. Please tell me he wore a bulletproof vest. Please tell me he won't die. PLEASE DON'T DIE ;_;

So yeah. I was so relieved to see he had a vest. And it's also funny that they took a humorous tone with that. A bit of an emotional whiplash was expected there XD

There's so much good animation there I can't even begin to comment on it. I'll have to gif a lot tomorrow :D Probably :D

Anyway. THEY MESSED WITH THE WRONG BITCH

Glorious.

McMahon cleaning up! Both preparing to fuck shit up!

I love how Yor apologized for using a guy's dead body as a shield from bullets. Kindness over all!

And then Loid wondering why Anya is still so excited after a long show of fireworks. He would lose his mind as a modern parent whose child could listen to Baby Shark a million times in a row.

A literal bloodshow ensues! Yor killing guy after guy and McMahon cleaning up after her!

Meanwhile, Anya and Loid enjoy the fireworks, and the office dudes win a fortune. Wins all around!

Though shit! The mace guy broke one of Yor's stilettos! Sacrilege!

They didn't pull back. With the soft song accompanying the action, we then get a hilarious (!!) montage of Yor taking out the assassins one by one and HOW DO THEY DO THAT. How is the humor in this show so effective I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Like, Endo's writing is funny in and of itself, but then the anime manages to pick up from that and use make it over the top! I love it.

Turtleneck guy thinks he's in the position to judge Yor??? Shut up my dude.

So McMahon is a pretty traditional dude, huh. Interesting. And did Turtleneck Guy really go like, "No, YOU will be eaten by sharks!" Like was that the best you could do XD

But then! Things get deeply serious! McMahon isn't dead, is he? O_O (don't answer)

Oh my god there's so much more I can barely comment! The katana guy being over the top! Yor worrying over breaking Loid and Anya's hearts! BECAUSE SHE'LL DIE. The haircut moment XD

But then Yor had her moment of wondering and then got her ass kicked and shit.

It is not clear in the anime, but it looks like in the manga Yor ripped the earring off her earlobe to stop Turtleneck Guy from moving on.

It's kind of tragic, how the Briar siblings ended up. Yor got into a dangerous, soul-eating job to protect Yuri's carefree life, and Yuri, seeing the sacrifices she made for him, did the same for her. They're so desperate to protect each other from the evils of the world, because they're all they have...

But now she's got even more of a motive...

So what if I cry? What if I dissolve into a puddle of tears and feels? So what? T_T

WHAT IF I LOSE MY MIND. BECAUSE HE DOES UNDERSTAND. IT'S THE VERY SAME THING HE DOES.

One last moment of logic that yes, she did rip her earlobe.

And now I continue screaming. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#thoughts for the extra part will come later cause!! fuck!!#Spy x Family #sxf reaction

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lapis-lights · 2 years ago

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04 | I Love You For Infinity

'Falling From Grace' Series Finale

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Infinity by Jaymes Young

Content Warnings: Near death, Lots of gun violence, Experimental Stuff, They finally get to be happy :D

Word Count: 13.9k

Author's Notes: Here we are at the finale :') I really really hoped you guys liked this series as I spent such a long time on it. I know some things were out of character but hey! We live and we learn, yeah?

I'm working on drafting up potential ideas and blurbs for the next big story project so I hope you guys will stick around for that :D

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: You and Leon have finally found common ground as you take your final stand against the J.I.E., but not everything comes up roses. Though, no matter what, Leon's hand is in yours and it was something you would face...together.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

'Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise. And I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice. 'Cause I love you for infinity....

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next days are spent meticulously losing yourselves in the files you’d recovered from the J.I.E lab but also losing yourselves in each other.

A switch had flipped in the atmosphere between you two and the abrupt shift from avoiding Leon to not being able to stand being away from him for more than a few minutes was enough to give you emotional whiplash.

There are nights where he takes it nice and slow, worshiping your body and rolling his hips deeply into you just to watch your face contorted in pleasure. There are times he fucks you so desperately that all you can do is hold on for dear life and let him do all the work. There are days where you tug each other away from papers and reports and bioweapons to relax, offering up the suggestion of stress release that usually ends with one of you blissed out while the other takes gentle care of them.

Sometimes Leon will go on errand runs that leave you regrettably on your lonesome, until he returns and catches you by surprise. You don't even get a chance to greet him at the door before his head is between your thighs, licking hotly into your core eagerly while you mewl helplessly above him. You're sure housekeeping is frustrated with your constant requests to change the sheets daily.

It's not just sex, though. There are times you doubt that this is as permanent as he promises. There are moments where you stare listlessly and wonder when Leon will realize that you're not what he wants before leaving you in a cold bed one morning. While it never happens, he's always quick to soothe those fears with a gentle kiss and an offer to make cups of coffee for the both of you. Never does he berate you for thinking so sillily as your past partners had done, but rather he listens and quiets those thoughts with a tender press of his lips to the back of your hand.

You're hopelessly in love with him, it's not even funny. You try and give back tenfold of everything he does for you, holding him during restless nights and staying up as late as you can when he can't find the strength to go to sleep.

One night, you had read to him, voice laced with sleepiness but persisting nonetheless because you wanted to help him. Leon's head rested against your chest, reading along with you but not really doing but more than staring at patterned ink on the page. In reality, he would later tell you he was simply listening to your voice.

"Death is of happenstance, when we ebb and fade from the minds of others long after our indestructible destruction. We live and die in memories," you read sleepily, having selected a random book from off one of the shelves in the room. "The bittersweet taste of your absence on my tongue is nothing compared to the confectionary hope that you will be in my arms upon reunion."

Leon makes a noise of recognition, moving to look up at you. "I like that."

"Yeah? Do you read much?"

“Nope,” he says candidly and rolls so that his nose is buried in the slope of where your neck connects to your shoulders. One of your hands keeps a hold on the book as the other starts running mindlessly through his hair. “Love it when you do, though, sweet thing.”

That’s the other thing: his nicknames. Leon’s oddly obsessed with calling you anything sweet–sweet girl, sweet thing, sweetheart…While he does use others, those types happen to be the most common occurrence. They never make you fail to feel giddy, something like a schoolgirl finally getting the popular boy to look her way. Only for you, he seems to be just as obsessed as you are.

Admittedly, Leon's said he prefers you saying his name just because he likes the way it sounds alone, but you don’t pass up the chance to give him nicknames of your own.

Things don't always go smoothly, though.

There are times you shy away from him, unfamiliar with his efforts. Times you question if what he promises is really true and try to not flinch away every time he reaches for you. Leon never hurts a hair on your head and while you know this, old habits do tend to die hard.

It's one night when it's raining lightly that Leon pulls you away from your analysis on one of the J.I.E.'s version of regenerators that the Los Illuminados cult created. You go whiningly, complaining that he was being too needy but secretly exhausted in a way that was probably all too easy for him to spot.

Leon holds you in place on the bed next to him like he's afraid you'll try and run away back to the desk if he doesn't, but you don't necessarily complain since he's warm and the proximity is enough to make your heart do backflips in your ribcage.

"You work too hard," he mumbles as the weight of the world settles into your bones. "Try and get some rest."

"Yes, dear," you mock, but kiss him all the same to let him know that you weren't truly mad.

He makes a nice satisfactory noise, pulling you closer and kissing wherever he can reach, hands rubbing along your skin gently and leaving sparks of electricity in its wake. Just from his touch and warmth, you already feel yourself anchored down and sleep touching your eyes.

Leon lulls you, hands starting to mess and play with your hair as you allow yourself to be anchored down and down until the images fly behind your eyelids and sift through your unconscious memories.

You roll over and your face hits the sand.

You stumble to your feet, the familiar weight and feel of a gun in your hands as the sound of helicopters roar in your ears as they fly overhead, shooting down the infected natives of the island you'd been sent to investigate. Nearly all members of the team assigned to you lie dead at your feet, crimson blood flowing in rivers from explosions, gashes, and bullet wounds. There's no time to worry about them, though.

There's mixed screaming all around you, and aiming is second nature. A clean headshot and a well-charged kick is all it takes to take down the guy in front of you, and you swap out your handgun for a shotgun as multiple people form into a small crowd.

You pull a grenade from your pocket, pulling the pin and throwing it into the sea of people. Stepping some paces back, you wait for the explosion before picking off the rest of those who survived the blast. It's then that your earpiece clicks and a voice comes through from your field managers back at headquarters.

"Come in, Python," they say, "according to our data, the source of the virus is right through the jungle. You need to gather whoever else is alive and head that way."

You grit your teeth, chest pricking with annoyance as you press on the earpiece and snap, "That's practically a suicide wish. We will not be doing that."

"May I remind you that you're not the director of this mission," the person on the other side snaps but their voice sounds fuzzy–muffled. "You follow whatever orders you're given and right now, you need to get to that virus."

You reload your submachine gun, and open fire. "Are you crazy?! There's only ten of us, maybe less. Who fucking knows how many are protecting the virus?"

"You signed up for this. We're expecting results."

They really were trying to work you to death.

The line cuts and you mumble a curse under your breath. A back hits yours and you glance to see one of the other team members has covered you from behind–a talented sniper who has played a role in more than a few of your successes in the past. It's a relief that she's been assigned here too and together, you mow down the bodies that are continuously shuffling and moving towards you.

There's too many coming close to her and enough that were far away from your side. You duck, twisting around her to shoot at the oncoming attacks at point blank while she props the muzzle of her rifle across your back to stabilize her aim. She takes out the ones that were a good distance away. You motion to her and together, you take off towards the heart of the island.

"F.O.S. is insane," you grumble to her, swapping the magazines in your gun. "Sending two people for the virus."

"Better get a hell of a paycheck out of this one," she agrees. "When we get back, drinks are on me."

The two of you trek for what seems hours and time bends and warps in on itself. The next thing you know, she's not next to you anymore and nothing but the sound of nature and the wind blows through your ears. Confused, you whirl around and call out her name in hopes of a cheery response. You're met with silence and the creeping sense that something is watching.

Your stomach drops as you aim your gun, anticipating an attack from any direction.

Instead, a rumble is heard from far away and a flock of birds flies from the top of the canopy, squawking in distress.

A force knocks you off your feet as the island begins to undergo an earthquake. The ground sinks beneath your body as you fight to get back up, panic settling deep in your bones as your arms refuse to cooperate. You scream out for help, to see if anybody was alive left from the bloodbath on the beach, but you know the irrevocable horrible truth.

Everybody but you died that day on the island. The sniper had jumped in front of you to take a hit and sacrificed her life to give you a chance to get the virus. You had shown up at the J.I.E. with a small vial that contained a strain along with the blood of your innocence staining your hands.

The earth seems to try to swallow you whole, opening up as if to send you straight to hell. The heat is enough to burn the flesh off your bones and it feels like you're melting from the inside out. Another scream claws its way from your throat as the tears cascade down your cheeks in wet rivulets. You know you're going to die the way you should have with everybody else on that damn day. It was unfair, leaving you to be the lone survivor and the target of the trainers who worked their agents to death.

You wait for the burn, for the fire to sear you alive when you feel that familiar touch. It's the same one that causes that controlled blaze inside of you–that melted the ice and saved you.

It pulls you from that earthquake and right into reality, a sob escaping your lips as you scramble to upright yourself. You're sweating, eyes still leaking and your throat on fire as if you'd been shouting. Your whole body is numb and cranked to a hundred all at once, shaking like a withering leaf on an autumn day.

Then, "Sweetheart? Are you with me?"

You flinch away, curling up before you realize who it was and what was happening.

The bedside lamp turns on and bathes the room in a gentle yellow glow and you see Leon worriedly glancing over you, hands twitching like he didn't know if he should touch you or not. You've only had one episode before in front of him. When the night terrors bled into real life and he had woken you up then too. Back in the motel, it was nothing but awkwardness and the assumption that he didn't care whether you were suffering subconsciously or not.

Now, things are different. They had to be.

You sniff, trying not to look more puffy and bloated than you already do before reaching out, fingers searching for his own in a way they never have before. Leon sighs in relief, threads his hand around yours, and urges you closer. You fall against his chest and he tucks you into his body as if he could shield you from the outside world and hide away from all the distresses of your life. He doesn’t say anything–doesn’t ask for an explanation–just holds you and stays throughout the whole thing.

Once the adrenaline faded and you’re left with the exhaustion that comes after crying, Leon finally pulls away to get a good look at you. The care is more than enough to make you burst into tears, but you hold them back in favor of not sullying his shirt more than you already had.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice hoarse from sleep and screaming.

“Don’t be,” he affirms, cupping your face and checking you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. “Bad dreams?”

“They usually are,” you admit and lean into his touch. Leon laughs gently when your eyes flutter shut, the warmth emission from him more comforting and grounding than anything else.

He brushes strands of hair away from your forehead before twisting to grab the water bottle from the nightstand on his side. Leon doesn't pry into what happened–just stays with you as you drink to soothe your throat and settle down. You look at the digital numbers glowing on the clock.

3:45.

"We should go back to sleep," you wince and fidget with the sheets beneath you but the reluctance is evident just by your body language and tone alone. "We should."

"We don't have to, baby," Leon soothes. "We can just stay up and do whatever until the sun comes up."

You don't want to return to that bloody beach–the start of many missions that would leave you in shambles and with less humanity than you started out with. It's almost laughable that once upon a time, you'd been a bright starry-eyed girl dreaming of changing the world. If you could rewind time, go back to when you were thinking of what you wanted to be when you grew up, you'd tell yourself to be an engineer or a veterinarian.

Anything but this.

Has Leon suffered through the same thing? How many people under him has he lost due to stupid mistakes and things that could have been prevented? You two really had to be so similar yet so different, but somehow, you'd found solace in each other.

"I got your shirt dirty," you frown, eying the dark patch that was no doubt a gross mix of your tears and maybe even snot.

He shrugs, pulling it by the hem and over his head. "Don't sweat it. I got a million more like it."

You can't help but stare at his perfectly sculpted chest that your hands have run over so many times. You can almost feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms. However, Leon's breathy chuckle pulls you out of your light fantasy. He flicks your forehead lightly, and you squeak as he rolls off the mattress.

"Quit staring, perv," he snorts, rummaging through his bag for another shirt. "My eyes are up here."

"We've literally fucked," you grumble, earning a surprised laugh from him.

Upon getting another shirt, he disappears into the bathroom before returning with some tissues and picking up another water bottle along the way. You graciously blow your nose and clear all that gross mucus from your system. He allows you to finish off the rest of his old water bottle before tempting you back into his arms to lay back down.

You don't hesitate to get comfortable, breathing out serenely once you finally settle down. Reluctancy lies in your mind just thinking about going back to sleep and having to carry another gun or watch another person die, and Leon seems to catch on just as quickly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks gently, open to a yes or no.

Gosh, you never would have expected the grumpy guy that used to insult you freely would be this caring. If you'd known that this is how he really was, you would have cut yourself off early, though it's a miracle something like this hadn’t happened sooner.

You take a deep breath in and blow it out. "It was years ago," you begin, picking up Leon's hand and starting to trace his palm lines in an act of distracting yourself. "I was sent to an unnamed island just off of Cuba where Umbrella had set loose a virus as an experimental field run. It was my first time giving commands."

Leon hums, shifting your position so that he can rest his head on your chest, listening to your heart and your voice while you continue brushing your fingers along his skin.

"I was sent with a fairly large team but they overestimated us. There were infected natives that we were instructed to take out, but there were so many." You close your eyes and frown. "I remember the bloodshed–the screams of anguish of all the people I couldn't save in that first fight on the beach"

"Oh, (Y/n)."

You open your eyes and smile, albeit a little watery. "I was the only one to get on the chopper that left the island that day. Stealth became the foundation of our training from then on and I was the one who bore the brunt of it all since I was able to make it out."

Leon scowls, all dark and lips curling back into a near snarl. "So they worked you into being their perfect little soldier."

"Like a dog." You cup his jaw and run a soothing thumb across his cheekbone. "But, I'm here now with you. That's what matters, right?"

He breathes out, regaining his sense of control and nods. "Yeah. That's what matters."

You sit there throughout the night, holding and soothing each other through touches and the occasional kiss that borders on something more if the two of you weren't tired from being woken in the early hours of the morning. Instead, you relish in the presence of him. There's many things that go unsaid, including what your relationship is labeled now, but that's a worry for another day.

The next time your face hits the sand, your eyes fly open as you find yourself in an unmarked place that you can't identify.

No longer is the feeling of silky sheets and Leon underneath your hands, but rather the rocky grains of sand that have already begun to stick everywhere. The sky stretches with the Milky Way, white stardust streaking across a navy canvas that seems to shudder the longer you look at it. Behind you is an island, the silhouette of trees rising up like a daunting wall and tittering with the sound of nocturnal animals. Somewhere, a bird squawks.

Water rushes up the shoreline with puffy white seafoam before receding gently and restarting the cycle all over again, but its efforts never even come close to where you were sitting. You imagine it would be cold. The sound of waves crashing calms you and on this beach, things are peaceful. It's quiet, and soft.

There's no blood, no voices, no guilt.

You lay back down, let the sand pillow around your head, and smile.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“Babe, come look at this.”

Leon perks up at your call, immediately getting up to join your side on the bed where multiple files scatter across the sheets. You’ve been drawing links between experiments for a few hours now while Leon makes sure you take a break every once in a while to clear your thoughts and make sure you aren't working yourself into a hole.

“They’ve been tampering with copying DNA strands,” you point out, reading a paragraph on the top of a page titled ‘Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer’. “‘Multiple test subjects have been shown falling apart or melting into a pile of unidentifiable yet useless substances. Dr. Walker theorizes that this may be a result of unstable skeletons and has proposed we build the structure akin to that of a machine. However, development would take too long so for now, we must continue perfecting the process’.”

Leon’s eyebrows furrow as he takes the paper from your hands and scans over the rest of the report briefly. “They’re trying to clone something.”

Your blood turns cold. “But what? They’ve been bulk creating bioweapons so surely that would be pointless.”

“Unless it’s not a bioweapon they’re trying to replicate,” he points out. “They could be trying to create a replica of a political figure or something.”

“But how would they have the sources to pull that off? They can’t get close enough to someone with power for a DNA strand or something of the likes.”

“I don’t know anymore about that than you do, sweetheart,” Leon mumbles, focusing on the report as his chin hooks on your shoulder and rests there. “Can you think of anybody that they’d get an advantage from?”

“Nobody else that you can’t think of,” you parrot, going through every person that they’ve targeted in the past. “Mostly I’ve been sent out to intercept the progress of rivaling companies and shadowing after you for information so your guess is just as good as mine.”

“We have to go back to the lab,” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face and tucking it into your neck. His breaths tickle your skin. “Can’t catch a fucking break.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Kennedy,” you shrug your shoulders a little so that it jostles him enough to emit a mock aggravated groan. “I think you’ve had plenty of breaks since our last breach into the lab.”

He glances up at you, a red tint glowing on his face and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t going through the exact same emotions as he was.

There’s a tense moment as your thoughts align on the same page for a minute.

“Wanna make it one more?” he prods suggestively and you have to laugh now, reaching up and patting his cheek affectionately.

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather be able to walk when we head out. You really seem to enjoy folding me like a damn pretzel.” you tease.

“Start stretching more.”

“Give me time beforehand then.”

He falls dramatically onto his back, making a pitiful little noise as if you’ve wounded him. You snort, pick up the map, and begin marking down the route the two of you had agreed on but not yet finalized. The safe rooms are already circled in blue, and the major areas to avoid are in red. The best course of action was to pull an alarm and cut through the offices to the labs that connected to the computer room, and there, you could find the information you needed.

It was risky, and there were a lot of factors to be considered before the two of you immediately dove in.

“That’s another cause for concern on the list,” you note, “along with the other ones we’ve listed down.”

“Perfect,” Leon retorts. “As if the all-seeing heat detecting monsters and the eyeball motherfuckers weren’t bad enough.”

Throughout your view over of the list of bioweapons they’ve created, you managed to narrow down the ones they’ve deployed as a means of defense. One attracts to that of thermal senses and another that purely uses sight as it’s only dominant means of living, which means they’re going to be your biggest problems alongside the potential undead waiting to pop out.

It’s also possible each one of them was injected with a variant of Las Plagas to make things even more fun. Total obedience was needed for them to function as a reliable defense system, and if they went rogue, it would cause too many heavy casualties.

“This sucks.”

Leon huffs. “You can say that again.”

“We need to settle on a date,” you tuck everything back into the binder neatly before snapping it shut. With no grace, you fall onto Leon’s chest and he grunts as his arms circle around your waist instinctively. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Sure. We could go to the movies or take a walk in the park–”

“I will sleep in the other bed tonight.”

“I’d say a week’s time.”

You laugh gently, resting your chin on his sternum. He sighs, exasperated but lovingly all the same, and in this tender moment, it’s easy for the daunting mission to fade away. The outside world doesn’t exist when you’re with him and some part of him mourns that you’ll never be able to return to this suite when everything’s said and done.

The future is terrifying since there’s no telling what’ll happen when he has to report back to the government.

Leon had explained to you that he was able to prod his bosses for an extended vacation after his former one was rudely interrupted by their request for his aid in dealing with the situation with Arias. You have no doubts that they wouldn’t hesitate to call him back though, so it’s a miracle he’s lasted this long. He assures you there’s nothing to worry about so you try not to be too bothered by the unnatural radio silence.

“What are you thinking of, sweet girl?” Leon asks, running a hand through your hair and beginning to gently work out the tangles that bind together some strands.

“You.” The answer is simple yet honest. He’s always on your mind nowadays, isn’t he?

“Yeah? What about me?” He tests and you know exactly what he’s trying to instigate.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some self-control, mister,” you chide, closing your eyes and reveling in the soothing motions through your hair. “You’re worse than I am.”

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Whatever you decide," you say while stretching, yawning in the midst of the afternoon glow through the suite windows. "I wanted to ask you something, though."

Leon tilts his head and begins weaving a section of your hair into a braid. "I'm listening."

"Where do you see yourself in the future?"

He pauses, his motions stuttering before resuming almost cautiously this time. "What brought this on?"

"I was wondering what your plans are when we finally can rest," you close your eyes and make a noise between contentment and hesitancy. "We can't be worked forever and that pension's gonna be fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well," Leon breathes in like he's confessing a secret–like the two of you are children whispering things into each other's ears and pinkie promising not to tell, "I'd like to move into a suburban house–maybe one with a picket fence–that's in a small no-name city. The community would be nice but know how to keep to themselves. Maybe I'll have a couple kids running around. Work never really allowed me to think about having a family."

"That sounds really nice," you say wistfully, imagining it behind your eyelids.

"I'd like to be able to paint and alter the walls however I'd like since I can easily afford something like that," he keeps on going. "A kitchen space just big enough to cook with someone and maybe even a window where I can watch the sun. I'd like a nice, cozy bedroom that's not neat or messy so I can bury myself in bed no matter what time I come home."

He wants such an idyllic life–one that you see in movies that everyone lives vicariously through because in this society, it was practically unachievable. Would you be so willing to have such a peaceful way of living as well? You can't fight forever, but all you've known for years is blood and gunpowder and pain. Could that world be something you deserve after everything you've done?

Leon stops, rests his hand on the back of your skull thoughtfully, and says, "...And I want you to be in it."

You open your eyes and look at him, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Who else, sweet thing?" He laughs. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not letting you go after this."

“Stockholm Syndrome,” you hum. “Are you really sure you want me there for all that, though?”

“There’s nobody else,” Leon says seriously. “Only you.”

You breathe in, then out and focus on the heat of his touch and the weight of his words on your heart. “Okay, Leon.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. We’ll have a house together away from this all and you won’t have to worry about the monsters anymore.”

His eyes crinkle with joy when he smiles and you’ve learned what it’s like when he expresses any genuine happiness. It’s a sight to behold but surely, it’s one you would never ever forget.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your heart beats in your ears harshly, finger twitching to pull the trigger on your handgun as you watch carefully for any signs of movement around the corner.

The world around you sucks a breath in, watching and waiting for any possible movement that would trigger an event.

Nothing but the hum of electricity can be heard, a constant drone in the background as sweat accumulates on the back of your neck and your stomach rolls nervously. Your arms shake and you're already aching for the welcoming feeling of the hotel suite. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple.

You and Leon had left early in the morning, once again, focused solely on making it out alive by the end of the day. Following the route and plan the two of you had finished up and agreed on, it wasn't hard to find and trip the fire alarm to the offices. People came rushing out–as predicted–but what you didn't expect was for the monsters to be roaming freely among the workers.

You and Leon had done the best you could, using the walls of the cubicles to hide away from the eyes of the monsters who could only see, with ugly pink bat wings and the body of a fleshy larva. It was only when the thermal searching bioweapons came in that you were positively fucked. Computers came crashing down, wires fizzing electricity and the lights overhead spark angrily as bullets were shot with desperation.

There were so many of them–so much that the rubble and the amount of monsters combined separated you and Leon.

You panic when you can't see him anymore but hope that you'll regroup soon enough, running through a doorway and barricading it with a quick glance at the room and seeing that he's nowhere you can find.

Hence your position now. You have to be careful since you're in an uncharted section of the laboratory that you didn't study in depth like you had for the rooms that you planned for. Carefully, you get up from your position and walk. The atmosphere is not helpful, and it feels like the walls have eyes. You shoot down any security cameras you see and somewhere along the way, there's a safe room.

There's nothing but a few boxes of ammo, a dusty old typewriter, and a plant that smells suspiciously like the vials of herbs that Leon had made you take all those weeks back. The thought makes your frown as you root out the plant from its pot.

Your time in that snowy motel seems like such a lifetime ago. It's hard to believe that just last month, you were ready to kill him on sight. Between everything that's happened and all the emotions that have purged, this story of yours seems like just the beginning. Catharsis–or something like it. Now, you're ready to have a life with your sworn enemy just because you were stupid and fell in love.

Who knows if Leon really was playing the long game or not?

Once you've checked and reloaded all of your guns, you step out of the safe room and back into the long hallway. The door at the end leads to some kind of boiler room and the heat only makes you more inclined to collapse. However, you push forward and take in the environment.

There's a large pod-shaped machine in the middle exhausting steam and monitoring its pressure on the side, which would be the heater. All around is a metal platform that winds up upwards with stairs at every level, and there's no telling where the top door might lead to. Instead of dwelling too hard on it, you begin climbing.

The lack of any enemies or things to shoot lets you know that any destruction to the boiler would probably be too large of a causality so they didn't want to risk the chance of the thing exploding. You're about halfway there when the hairs on your neck stand up and your gut pangs.

You grab your knife and parry the incoming attack.

The woman backs away, clearly surprised that you managed to sense her despite the silent stealth she employed. It takes about two seconds to recognize who it is and your blood runs cold. Ada blinks innocently, sheathing her knife and jutting out a hip. Expertly applied make-up refuses to run even under the heat and humid steam of the boiler room and infuriatingly, you understand why Leon might've been attracted to her in the past.

"Ada," you say, hesitantly putting away your own weapon. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I see he's told you about me," she tuts, moving to walk past you. "All these years and he still can't let go of me."

You think she's just trying to get under your skin, and you follow her just to see what she might say. "How long have you known Leon?"

"Mm...We have a history. One I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

You clench your jaw, reminding yourself that if it's a fight she wants, she'll have to work harder for it. What was the point in taunting you like this? Was it because of personal feelings that she had tried to get the jump on you earlier or was it part of a mission that she was on as well?

"You know," Ada begins, climbing another flight of stairs. "He's gotten good at acting–lying. He's not as predictable as he was before."

"So?" You reply irritably, ready to get away from her.

"So you never know," she looks up wistfully, "he might be using you for information. When this is all said and done, Leon will get his hands on the data he needs and you'll be free from your contract. The business deal will be done and you can go your separate ways."

"Is that what you really think?"

She looks back at you, something like pity or sadness in her eyes. "Maybe. I'm just trying to warn you before you do something you might regret."

You can't say anything about that.

The two of you continue up the stairs until you finally reach the final door at the top. Upon opening it, you sigh in relief at the cold air and turn to find Ada isn't following. She only shakes her head slightly, backing away like she's disappointed or something.

Ada takes a deep breath in like she's trying to steel herself. "You're good for him. Better than I would've ever been. Don't fuck it up."

You open your mouth to retaliate, question what she means, promise you won't–maybe say something. You don't get the chance when she swivels around and vaults over the railing of the platform falling down and disappearing. You gasp, rushing forward to see call out for her, but the words die in your throat when you realize she's nowhere to be found.

Left confused by the brief interaction, you glance back at the open door that leads into a narrow corridor. A lone door lies on the other side of it, and you try to remember if there was anywhere that it would lead to. However, you fail to, and decide that there’s really nowhere to go but ahead. You press forward, and the door to the boiler room slams shut behind you.

You whip around, hearing the harsh click of a lock echoing through the small space.

You yank on the handle but to no avail. The thing’s bolted tightly.

An intercom crackles overhead and that voice that had spoken to you before when you and Leon had faced off the spider audibly clears the static.

“What do we have here?” they muse. “You two had better get to the main lab with all our fun little experiments. I’ve got a surprise–and perhaps you’ll find your way back to each other eventually. Don’t keep me waiting. Oh! Try not to die on the way, will you? It’s been a while since our animals have had a good hunt so I do hope you’ll be good sports and provide some much-needed entertainment.”

The static cuts off and rapid banging erupts from above. The sounds of the ventilation stagger and a shriek emits from the ceiling. You swap out your handgun for your reliable shotgun, making a beeline for the exit at the end of the corridor just as the door to the vent crashes down and you hit the floor to dodge the tentacle that comes flying at your head.

You get a good look at what you’re up against–a pile of wet flesh that has eyes embedded into it like gems encrusted on a globe. Multiple limbs stretch outward from the main hub, wriggling hair-like tendrils spreading across the floor towards you rapidly. You get to your feet, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Your hands pump your shotgun and aim. When the hit lands, the thing screeches and puss explodes outward from its body.

Being in such a confined space barely provides any advantages for you, and coupled with the fact that the mass of the bioweapon nearly takes up the entire corridor along with the lack of any environmental resources, it’s up to your combative prowess to get out of this one.

You grab an incendiary grenade and pull the pin. The fire is quick to make work of the thin tendrils on the floor and you sever the tentacle inching towards you from the side. You’re not quick enough to pivot around. A limb bashes into your torso and sends you flying, your ribs pulsating in pain as you slam on the ground. The concrete scratches your knees as you get up shakily, and you see your shotgun has landed a few feet away.

Upon not seeing you dead, the monster screams and focuses all of its efforts into trying to kill you.

“Goddamnit,” you curse. “This isn’t good.”

You evade an oncoming attack, crying out when one tentacle wraps around your ankle and yanks. You fall on your back with a harsh thud and it begins dragging you towards the center where the monster opens up to reveal a mouth full of lines of rotating teeth. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you pull your knife and hack away at the restraint on your leg. The grip tightens enough so that you can feel the monster trying to crush your tibia and fibula together.

You have enough of it, dangerously close to the heated saliva of the bioweapon’s mouth. You stab your knife into the tentacle, and it splits apart with a gush of hot blood. The shriek that emits from the mouth is enough to make your ears ring, but there’s no time to think about that now.

Swapping out your submachine gun, you roll to your feet and begin targeting the spots where the tentacles source from. When they explode, the smell is so horrendous that you have to take the time to gag before reloading and letting the bullets do all the work.

“You need a bath, buddy,” you mumble under your breath, wrinkling your nose in disgust. “Fuckin–this is what being an irresponsible pet owner does to a bitch.”

You sidestep another swipe and work on getting rid of the last few joints. Blood pours down the main body of the bioweapon and stains the floor beneath it, and as the last tentacle has been disarmed and popped, all that’s left is the main hub.

It’s really unfortunate that you assumed it would be easy, but as the mouth closes suddenly, gurgles, then hurls a ball of acidic saliva at you, it proves that it won’t be as simple as you had hoped.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The saliva leaves a burn bark in the ground and you know that it would be hot enough to melt the flesh right off your bones. You duck and roll, barely managing to avoid another shot for your head.

“I thought I wouldn’t have to play dodgeball after PE in highschool,” you groan, trading out your submachine gun for your hard hitting reliable magnum. “Alright, I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

The next time the mouth opens up, you can see the glowing heart of the monster beating behind a thin wall of translucent flesh just at the back of its throat. You only get a few sections to work out a plan before it spits at you again, you use the time to jump out of the way before firing a couple of shots right into the heart.

It shrieks but persists and you take the period after the next attack to reload your magnum as fast as you can. Fingers dance quickly as you push every bullet into a designated hole in the round, aiming, and emptying all of it into the heart as quickly as you can. Just to be safe, you take a hand grenade and launch it into the still-open mouth,

The monster seems to swallow it, trying to prepare another acid attack, but it doesn’t get the chance. You duck, shielding your head as the grenade detonates and erupts. Guts and eyeballs go flying everywhere, and blood spatters across your clothes and skin. The monster finally rolls over limply and stays down this time as you finally stand to breathe in gulps of air.

It feels like you’ve just run a marathon, and your ribs ache from when you had been thrown across the corridor, but at the best, it might have been bruised. It doesn’t feel like they’ve been broken at least, which really was the only positive side to this whole thing. The bad part is the fact that this gives you a taste of just what the J.I.E. had been working on this entire time, and that didn’t bode well if they managed to get farther along than what you just encountered.

You pick up your discarded shotgun and find you’d only been two bullets away from being empty. You’ll have to manage your inventory better the next time. Taking the time to reload everything and check through your belongings, you observe the cuts and scratches you obtained during the fight. It doesn’t seem too bad, all things considered, and you decide to wait on trying to eat the mysterious herb you had picked up before.

The lock clicks again and you try the door again to find that this time, it unlocks easily.

On the other side, you find a more open space. The room holds large test tubes that line along the far left wall with bodies of people floating inside of them, and tubes connect to various points on their limbs. On the right are monitors that track the progression of every corresponding subject and you go to the nearest one.

You walk slowly, realizing that every one of them were incredibly similar in terms of appearance. They hold the same face shape, the same nose, the same skin color. There’s only minor differences between each of them like the curve of the upper lip not matching or the varying heights by a couple of inches, but in general, they remain fairly similar.

You travel to the other side of the room and work one of the monitors that list it’s for test subject number six. There were a few tabs you were able to access, including the general review of the experiment as a whole. The computer screen casts blue light as the report loads and your stomach drops upon seeing the title.

"The (L/n) Project - Molecular Cloning Process

Two weeks since Agent (L/n) escaped the facility. She has left behind all devices and managed to disarm the tracking chips installed within her weapons. We suspect that the tracker we injected into her has been damaged as well–Mr. Williams theorizes it must have occurred during her fight with T-X108 and therefore, had rendered us unable to pin down her exact location. The search parties sent out have not managed to find her.

However, she has allowed us to go forth with the cloning process. Her rebellion had greenlighted the project, appropriately named The (L/n) Project as we try to replicate her favorable traits and create a bioweapon capable of her abilities and more.

This project utilizes a mix of the T-Virus as well as the Las Plagas parasite to ensure total and absolute control over the subject. Many defects have been formed due to the incompatibility between the mix of the virus and plagas, however, Dr. Stills remains optimistic and claims that we need only to find the right combination. Our last resort only banks on the chance that (L/n) will return and will ensure her capture and re-initiation.

Should we apprehend her within the lab, she will immediately be injected with a plagas egg. From then on, she will be kept in confinement until the parasite reaches full maturity.

Until that time comes, we will continue the cloning process in hopes of favorable outcomes. We have already gotten this far. All it needs is time."

The files about the J.I.E. dabbling in cloning flash through your head, and your stomach jumps into your throat. You return back to the test tubes and swallow harshly, now seeing that those are your features being reflected back at you through the glass. Those things are supposed to be replicas of you–formations that they took of your DNA strands and molded into your image in hopes of replicating your performance on the battlefield but better.

They've had plenty of chances at getting your DNA through blood work and any hairs you might have misplaced or left behind. Think about it, you had willingly provided them all the resources to your genetic code on a silver platter simply because you believed you were working for the greater good.

You back away, shaking nervously as terror fills your system. You need to find Leon and you need to do it now.

You start running, stumbling out of the room into one much larger. It's like a factory, walls whitewashed and outlined in varying glass containers that hold a multitude of different bioweapon shrieking and clawing to get out. In the center is a control board that seems to operate a giant claw. Whatever this shit is, it meant no good.

A door flies open ahead and you gasp, looking up to see none other than Leon stumble through. You're about to call out to him until you see him hold the door just in time for somebody else to follow after. A woman, it looks like, and your chest boils with something sharp. She's not wearing the same red get up Ada had been in, so she must be somebody new. At least, you hope that's the case.

You back away, watching as they head down the stairs together and go straight for the control panel. Before one of them can touch anything, you come out, gun securely held as you nervously shout out to him.

"Leon?"

He whirls around immediately, but instead of his expression twisting into relief like you thought it would, it morphs into one of confusion. His features set into harsh stone as he loads his gun and aims it at you.

You stop in your steps toward him, slowly putting your own weapon back into its holster and putting your hands up in a surrendering position. Wondering why he would turn the gun on you now if all times, you think with a pang that this is where he might betray you and has alerted an accomplice to aid him in this final stretch of the mission.

This is soon cleared when the person walks out from behind him and you find you staring at yourself.

"Leon," the fake you says, all nervous and matching your pitch perfectly. "This must be what they were talking about–with the cloning."

A bitter taste fills your mouth, insulted that this copycat would even have the audacity. "You would know since you're one of them," you snap, turning your attention to him. "Please, you've got to believe me–you've been traveling with a clone."

"Stop trying to manipulate him!" The clone's eyes shine with fake tears and you scowl.

Leon hesitates, strung between two identical people and you can't believe they somehow created the perfect replica. How they even managed it is beyond you, but what matters is that there was a chance Leon could accidentally kill you without knowing it until it was too late. How could he handle it if his intuition is the very thing that had kept you alive and killed you all at once?

“Don’t fall for it,” the clone frowns, forehead wrinkling just in the same way yours did when you were determined about something. "She's just trying to trick you so we'll get separated again."

"You're one to talk," you seethe, knowing that losing your temper right now was akin to fighting a losing battle.

"Leon," she croons, circling around to look him in the eyes earnestly, "don't you remember all those nights we spent together? How free it felt to finally love me openly after all this time?"

He softens but only slightly, the grip on his gun loosens as he hears her recount the events of something so recent.

"I've loved you for so long and didn't even know it," she says, so open and vulnerable like a mirror to your own emotions. It was eerie and creepy in a way you loathed, unsettling just how it was to see a reflection of yourself sweet talking the man you love. "Shall I tell you when I first admitted that I love you so that I can prove it really is me?"

She doesn't even wait for an answer before she's leaning in and whispering in his ear. Whatever she says, it must be something wild judging by the way his face flushes so violently crimson. Usually, it's you doing all that work, knowing what subjects will make his face burn in such a way that it's nearly impossible not to cradle it just to feel the heat beneath your palms. However, it's not you this time, and the fact makes you want to throw up and gag at the sight of it.

When the clone leans away, she scrutinizes his face before letting her expression fall. "You still don't believe me fully."

"I can't make a mistake."

"Then ask us a question," the clone suggests suddenly, matching your tone and body language down to a T as if you really just had a bright idea. "One only the real (Y/n) would know."

Leon's eyes turn focused, looking between the two of you trapped in front of him in similar stances. Really, what could he ask that the clone wouldn't know? She had apparently inherited all of your memories–all of the time you spent in the motel leading up to this second had been meticulously recorded.

"When did we first meet?" He finally asks. "When did we really first meet?"

"Operation Counterpoint," the clone says immediately as if this were some twisted game show. "You caught me on an espionage mission gaining intel on Umbrella through your own mission. You almost killed me that day."

Leon looks at you and the raw emotion in his eyes as he waits for your answer makes you falter. You always knew him better than anybody–knew the things that made him tick and do the things he did better than you know your own quirks. You hope that intuition doesn't fail you now, needing it more than ever in this bizarre situation. Leon asked a simple question, but something underlined it. He was looking for something else–something more.

You understand what he's asking and you duck your head.

"When you saw my scars," you say quietly and nothing but the hum of electricity could be heard like the atmosphere had sucked in a breath and was holding it. "When you found out what the J.I.E. had been doing to me–how they were hurting me, that's…that's when we met. When we really first met."

Leon pivots and shoots the clone in the head, the throat, then the heart and as she falls to the floor, he reaches for you.

You sag in relief as you let yourself fall into his arms. The tension drains from your body as you find yourself in the clear once again. Leon–your rival, mortal enemy, and savior–pulls you to his chest in a real hug that you melt into. You haven't felt the warmth of an embrace from anyone but yourself in years before him–didn't allow yourself to. You suspect that he's just the same, or perhaps even more, starved of the touch than you were

His arms wrap across your back, pulling you right into the space that has become reserved for you against his body. His hold on you is so firm that it would take an army just to get him to release you from his sweet embrace. To be fair, you're not keen on leaving it anytime soon.

"Oh, sweet girl," he mumbles against your hair, grip tightening as if he'd rather die than let you go. "Angel, is it you? Tell me, please–please."

"It's me," you reassure as genuinely as you can. "Leon, you did good–you did so good. Thank you, oh my god."

The tension from the situation dissipates as you relish in the feeling of being alive and well. You can feel him shaking and you pull away only slightly just to get a good look at his face. Leon never cries even though he's seen a fair share of your tears and you've seen the nightmares that plague him every time his insomnia lets up and allows him to sleep. Now, you see that familiar well of hot saltwater welling beneath his eyelids and your heart hurts for what confliction he must have gone through while making his choice.

You wipe them away before they even have the chance to make a track down your cheeks and his forehead presses onto yours desperately.

“Leon, we have to keep going,” you prod, however just as reluctant to let him go. “We have to make it out of here together, okay?”

He lingers stubbornly and you think you might have to walk with him wrapped around you but he manages to pull away all the same and nods. You know he’s back with you now on a level head and that things were very possibly going to be okay again. You’ll live to see the day, and that was a true promise that passed wordlessly between the two of you.

Together, you approach the control panel and begin operating the system to tell you what has been happening.

Every single creature on the wall is registered to a number and every one contains at least one or more virus or parasite. Some of them mix together the T-virus and Las Plagas, even going as far to see if the plagas and Uroboros could be compatible somehow. The creatures maintain some sort of semblance of what they once were, ranging from rats to dogs to humans.

This is more fucked up than you could ever have imagined. While the binder you had gotten had prepared you somewhat, even then, they only had one page of review and. This was the whole report, elaborately written for each of the bioweapons they had been creating.

“What the fuck could they be doing this for?” Leon mumbles angrily under his breath as he sifts through file after file.

“They wanted to take the bioweapon war to Umbrella,” you reply, nudging aside his hands so you can pull up the command prompt for the system. “With enough power, they could take down the pharmaceutical company and be revered as heroes for the anti-terrorism.”

“But the government would’ve shut them down the same way they did Umbrella.”

“Not quite.”

You enter in the string that brings up an overview of the J.I.E.’s plans, letting Leon read through it as you pull out an external hard drive to plug into the USB port hidden discreetly away from the open. Beginning to copy the information that was showing on screen, Leon sighs and catches your attention.

“They’re gearing towards the favor of the public,” he realizes and you nod. “And this whole plan is why…”

“Why I left, yes.” You select all of the creature reports and start uploading them on the drive while talking. “They think that bringing a whole entire war to the companies is the only way to deal with them–they don’t think about civilians or people or the moral justice of those who do wrong. They want the advantage, which makes them no fucking better than Umbrella or Tricell or anybody else.”

“Who’s behind all of this? Do you know?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to think about what names or relations meant to you–especially higher ups who didn’t know how to keep their nose out of other people’s business. “Mr. Williams is the head of the J.I.E.–the one who made the company and announced its making under the false pretenses of making the world a better place. He built it on the trust of those who witnessed him jailing a couple criminals until he successfully apprehended an Umbrella team member. He was revered, and the J.I.E. received a lot of funds for his deed.”

“But?”

“But he’s been disillusioned ever since.” You look up at him seriously, taking his hand and clasping it between your palms. “Leon, promise me that if he manages to make an appearance, we run. He’s charismatic and knows how to get underneath your skin–you won’t get anything out of talking to him.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, squeezing your hand back gently.

“One hundred percent.”

Leon nods, trusting you. “Then we’ll run.”

The next moments are spent analyzing the creatures in the glass cases. You can see the wriggling parasites beneath the bronze flesh of some of the animals, stretching from Las Plagas to Uroboros to other possible variations. The animals with viruses don't have any wriggling tendrils but they do still snarl and rot from the inside out. It's disturbing, knowing that this was all right under your nose while you'd been willingly working for the J.I.E.

When the hard drive is finished uploading the reports, you navigate away from the experiments and instead turn your focus onto the U.S. government. Leon makes a noise of confusion upon seeing you type in the buzzwords, but is effectively silenced when you open a file that introduces the world of hacking. There were so many files about getting through firewalls and securities that it's almost impossible to believe that they kept track of all of it.

"This is how they're bypassing the protections the government has been putting up," you tell him, cutting and pasting all of the files. "With this, you can fortify it."

Leon doesn't say anything, just simply pulls you closer by the wait and kisses the crown of your head. You can't tell what he's thinking right now, but if anything, you're glad you can help him. He looks like he has something on his mind and you almost ask what he's thinking about, but instead resign to let him have his moment instead.

When you have all the information you need and have stopped needing to upload things to the hard drive, you unplug it and tug it into your bag. Together, the two of you start making your way to one of the exits you theorized. Sure, you might not be able to find the entrance you came through by means of the dressing room but at the very least, you could find a way out.

There's a dizzying amount of doors to get through and everything seems to be going fine. Nobody's come for your head yet and there's no monsters that have fallen from the ceiling looking for blood just yet.

It's only when you make your way to one of the first floors that a strange clicking sound is heard and you and Leon halt to pull out your guns. It's reflectively dark so you have to click on a flashlight just to be able to see a small portion around you. The mysterious noise seems to be coming from ahead behind a crate of boxes and since there's no telling what it might be, the two of you proceed with caution.

Your footsteps are light, breaths even lighter. You monitor yourself in the way a doctor might, and the adrenaline already begins building. You approach the crate, lift your leg, and kick it in.

When the boards crumble, a shriek is heard, and you barely manage to dodge and roll out of the way of the humanoid that lunges for you. The figure screams, dressed in rags and streaked with dirt. One good look at it makes your heart twist harshly upon recognizing it: it's one of the failed clones, evident by the way her cheek is rotted away to show the inner workings of her mouth and her eyes are a stained color that vaguely reflects yours. Larvae wriggle within her gums and she stumbles to her feet, groaning incoherently as she sets her sights on you.

"The fuck?" Leon hisses. "What is that thing?"

"It's one of the failed clones," you provide, aiming your gun again. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

You shoot the clone in the eye, blood spattering outward from the socket. She feels back with a mangled noise, clutching the wound as Leon takes his chance. He approaches rapidly, plants his foot, and roundhouse kicks the clone into the wall hard enough that her neck completely snaps from the impact.

You whistle lowly. Showoff.

"Overkill," you tut, shining the flashlight over the dismembered body that refuses to move even when you prod it with the toe of your boot. "It's probably safe to assume they've got a million more of these just lying around so let's proceed with caution, shall we?"

"Roger that."

The two of you press forward, coming across more defects that are bursting through the seams with incompatible parasites. Some explode outward with grotesque flesh and wriggling limbs that you have to shoot down while others seek to take a bite from your neck. Leon covers your back and you watch out for his, and together, you fight your way through the failed mirrors of yourself.

You come upon a main lab that's circular in shape, guns held defensively and on high alert. It's strangely silent considering you'd just come from a room full of monsters and shrieking clones with skin melting off their bodies.

You walk forward, finding a circular platform in the middle set up like a stage and metal stairs line around the whole thing. You're about to turn around to ask Leon what he thinks this room could be used for but you're suddenly grabbed from behind. A scream leaves your throat as you thrash, and Leon shouts your name. The cold barrel on a gun presses to your temple and an arm clasps around your neck as a sleazy yet familiar voice spits in your ear.

"I suggest you stop struggling or I'll kill you right fucking now."

You stop, but choke upon seeing Leon being apprehended by a bunch of soldiers dressed in gear marked with the J.I.E. logo. He's strong, but certainly not enough to break from them as they pull and hold his hands behind his back.

"Please," you whisper, barely able to breathe from the grip that's across your throat. "Don't hurt him."

"You know I don't run things like that," Williams snears. "Especially from dogs like you. You just couldn't sit still and be obedient, could you (L/n)?"

You scowl, fighting against him to breathe in before he shuts off your airways again. "You know I'd rather die than lick the boots of some greaseball who thinks he's some big head honcho hotshot."

"You never know when to fucking shut up, do you?!" The gun presses harsher to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut. "Drop your weapons and this will all go a lot smoother."

This situation seems too against you, too harsh. Maybe you should comply for now, give them the ultimatum of taking you and sparing his life. You'd do it without question, but who's to say they won't kill you before he can make it back to you? You drop everything from your bag to your guns to your knife, and completely give up. Upon feeling you give up and going slack in his arms, Williams lets you stand, slowly letting go as to make sure you won't run. After all, he's got six soldiers pointing automatics trained at your body to make sure you don't try to do anything. He scoffs, laughing at your pathetic state before turning his attention to Leon who's refusing to remain still or quiet.

“Stay away from her!” Leon screams, pushing against the arms that hold him back, barely able to restrain his lean muscular body. Your chest tugs as if magnetizing you to him and your eyes sting with hot tears. “You put one fucking finger on her, I’ll kill you!”

“Oh?” Williams taunts and he raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Leon Kennedy defending (Y/n) (L/n)? My ears must be deceiving me.”

If looks could kill, everybody in the room would be dead with the way Leon’s eyes darkened. A hand touches back and you instinctively jerk away before roughly being tugged closer. Somewhere, chains clink and your whole posture goes rigid.

“The perfect soldier we could never replicate,” Williams muses, pressing a firm hand to the scars that shape your backside. “Not without discipline, of course.”

The room falls silent as Leon processes his words.

"You're dead," he spits venom, dripping with promise. "I'm going to kill you and I'll make it fucking hurt, motherfucker."

"Don't listen to him," Williams waves Leon off as if he were just some bothersome fly before focusing his attention on you. "Haven't we taught you anything, Agent (L/n)? This fool doesn't love you. At the very best, you're just some lively entertainment for him before leaving you in a cold bed in the morning."

Leon thrashes even more violently than before. You keep your eyes on the concrete beneath your feet.

"You can't save him the same way you couldn't even save yourself."

"Shut up!" Leon's desperation leaks so candidly though his voice. "(Y/n)! Don't listen to him!"

"Oh, she'll listen to me," Williams circles around, forcing your head up with an iron clasp around your jaw as his face comes into view. "Dogs don't like to be chained up and beat, after all, don't you know?"

You curl in disgust when he lets go, and he continues up the steps to look down on the spectacle beneath him. Just as you told Leon, it's always power he wants, and now is more apparent than ever.

"Mr. Kennedy, listen to me." You know he doesn't want to hear another word from the man's mouth. "I don't like to do things like this, you know. But, the girl you act like you love so much is more than just the foolhardy agent you've met on the battlefield."

Leon knows you better than that. He knows the way you cry and laugh and love. He knows how willing you'd be to take a bullet to the heart for him in the same way he'd put his head in a guillotine for you. Williams doesn't know the extent of your love, doesn't understand it. He might still believe you hate each other given your past passive aggressive reports on him–but it's clear as day that those feelings have changed since you attempted to cut ties with the J.I.E.

"She's special, isn't she?" Williams croons as if he thinks praise will have you sitting at his feet like a loyal little lapdog. "However, she still has killed so many of your allies–even almost you. Is that something you'll let go of so easily? She could be a traitor trying to get under your skin. She could be our specially engineered clone and you had killed the very real one. How do you know that she's loyal? Certainly, if she wasn't loyal to the very company she agreed to contract to, she'll never be loyal to you."

"You're insane," Leon spits. "Of course she wouldn't want to stick with the guy who's ordered her to be fucking abused into submission. Do you treat all your agents like this or just her?"

"(L/n) is special, like I said. Every special agent deserves special treatment, don't you think?"

Leon glowers. "You'll regret saying that."

Williams just his chin out. "And what makes you think that?"

The lights power down with a groan. The insistent humming drone of electricity stalls and goes silent. The emergency lights fail to come on. The darkness is black enough that you can't even see your hand in front of your face.

A gun cocks and your heart drops.

"Get down!"

You hit the floor as bullets start ringing through the air. It's wild, confusing, and you don't know what's happening or why. Your breaths start coming out in panicked puffs as you cover your head, and stay on the ground. Somewhere, someone screams and the blast of a shotgun is heard. The soldiers are commandeering orders and radio static voices are heard all over the place.

Somebody touches your shoulder and you gasp, scrambling away from them, feet kicking blindly until they're held down. You almost scream before a comforting voice talks to you in a low tone and cuts all those defenses short.

"Sweetheart–baby–it's just me, don't worry,” Leon's thoughts run a million miles a second and they translate easily to his tongue and out his mouth, “C'mon, get up, we have to go. I can carry you if you can't walk on your own. Shit, he didn't hurt you too bad, did he?"

You can't form a coherent thought but merely wrap your arms around him with a sob, too keyed up and overwhelmed with everything that's happening around you. Why did the power go out? Did Williams escape in the mess? Who was behind everything that was happening?

"It's okay," Leon soothes, gathering you up in your arms and you feel the floor leave from beneath you, "C'mon, we're getting out of here."

"What…"

"You can ask later. For now, we're leaving."

You bury your head into his chest and let him take you away to wherever he chose fit. The world seems like a blur as more men start shouting over the blasts of gunshots and Leon does his best to get the two of you out. You hear a hum running as lights dance behind your eyelids. Time seems to drag on and flash by in a second as Leon's body jostles beneath yours until eventually, you feel him jump and the roar of an engine fills your ears.

You open your eyes as he sets you down on a stiff bench, vision blurry as you watch him leave. You don't know where he had taken you or if he'd ever be back, but weakly, you want to reach out for him. There's no energy in your body, exhausted from fighting for so long. People are still shouting and the smell of gunpowder invades your nose.

You fight to stay conscious, afraid that if you sleep, you might not be able to wake up. Before, you'd been vehemently unafraid of death, but now? Now you're terrified of it.

Leon comes back into your view, and he seems conflicted, but nonetheless is here. He gently moves your body so that you rest on his lap comfortably, your head nestled against his collarbone as he starts rubbing the palm of his hand across your head. You can still hear the screaming, the gunshots, the blood and pain.

It feels like you're staying between life and death, back on an island and being with Leon.

"Sweet girl," Leon says just loud enough for you to hear against your hair–the first nickname he ever seriously used with you. "You've been fighting all on your own for too long. Let me take care of you."

Unable to hold back, you allow the tears to spill over at the weight of the truth his proclamation holds. How long has it been since someone's held you like this? Has anybody ever held you like this?

"You can rest," he croons gently. "I've got you, baby. You can let yourself go."

A lifetime ago, it would have sounded like poisoned words from a wolf in sheep's clothing. But now?

Now it kind of sounds like he loves you.

And that's perfectly alright with you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

During the entire time since you showed up at the motel, Leon had been in close contact with the president back at the white house. You feel like you should have known, would’ve thought it was obvious, but he was very good at distracting you at the best of times.

Leading up to your final stand against the J.I.E., he’d been arranging a squad to be ready on standby in case anything went wrong. When you’d been grabbed, he’d sent out the signal for them to be able to track him down just before he’d been apprehended. The B.S.A.A. was ready, and they successfully cut the power and utilized their nighttime equipment to navigate the sudden battlefield.

Williams had been captured and taken in for questioning. That much had put your heart to rest.

Leon had ordered an escape chopper, which is what he had carried you into in those final moments. Surely, things must have been more intense for him but you’d been so out of your element that you had completely shut down. A trauma response, maybe, from having to face the possibility that you would die that day.

You stand in the waiting room, wearing a nice little dress as you fiddle with the dark black hard drive in your hands. Your nerves won’t allow you to sit down or rest to any capacity and you anxiously blow out a breath. This moment would determine your future for the rest of your days. Maybe you’d be sent to jail for a lifetime to atone for your crimes against them, but you know Leon wouldn’t let that happen.

The door unlocks and a young man in a stiff suit waves you in. “Miss (L/n). They’re ready for you.”

You nod nervously, take one more deep breath, and enter the office.

The president is already there, hands folded stiffly on the desk as Leon stands to attention behind him. Right now, it was nothing but business, and you shakily nod your head. Reminding yourself that this is a lot more than the times you reported to Williams, you wipe your clammy hands on the back of your dress.

“Good morning, Mr. President,” you say, and thank the heavens when your voice doesn't crack.

The president only smiles non-threateningly, and motions to a chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat–and do loosen up, please. We’re just here to have a conversation, nothing life-changing.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He laughs not unkindly as you take your seat and clasp onto the hard drive in your lap for dear life.

“From what I understand, you’ve been working with Agent Kennedy for the past month or so, yes?”

“Correct,” you answer. “The Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists had been keeping me under a contract to pledge my mind, body, and soul to them and when I differed from their plans to begin a bioweapon war, they nearly killed me. I managed to escape and track the coordinates Mr. Kennedy was at."

"I see." The president nods to the hard drive in your hands. "May I?" You slide it over to him and he turns it over in his hands briefly before smiling. "You've done us a great service today, Miss (L/n). For that I would like to formally pardon you from any and all offenses."

A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief. "Thank you."

"Although…" he interjects. "We would rather have you put under watch, which is why you'll be staying with Agent Kennedy for a couple of weeks. I'm sure there's no objections?"

"None at all, sir."

"Good," the president smiles. "There's one more matter I'd like to discuss before I let you go."

You steel yourself for the worst. "Yes?"

"I'd like to personally extend an invitation to you to join the D.S.O. as Agent Kennedy can show you the ropes and you'd fit right in." Your mouth drops open. "Of course, you don't have to accept, but it would be the best option for you right now and we'd hate to lose such a capable soldier who's survived enough things that would kill the average person."

"I…" You look at Leon who only looks back at you with a blank expression, but you can practically hear him begging in your head.

"You'd be helping people–for real." The president looks at you earnestly. "And surely, you'll get many more benefits than the J.I.E. had granted you. From what I hear, you didn't even have time off."

You think about it, about how the trajectory of your life is changing now. What would happen if you said yes? If you said no? Surely there was no life for you outside these four walls, but could you really afford keeping on going with agent work? You look at Leon again, biting your tongue. You're a ruinous person–scum of the earth. But…if he thinks you can be redeemed then…

"It would be an honor to join, sir," you answer.

The president smiles. "Then you're dismissed. Do be sure to rest up, will you?"

You get up as Leon walks forward and motions you to follow. Dutifully, you trail behind him as the president waves a little goodbye on your way out. The weight of the world lifts from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief when the door closes behind you and Leon immediately slips his hand into yours.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" He chides.

"Actually, it was horrible," you correct. "I don't think I've ever been scared shitless in my entire life."

Leon laughs, pulling you along to where his little sedan is waiting in the parking lot. You’re sure that if you hadn’t been driving, he would've crashed it upside down in a ditch somewhere while he walked out fine. It seemed like something Leon would do.

He takes you to his home, an expensive apartment overlooking the District of Columbia that he claims he only had because it’s near the office and that meant less driving for him. You call him a dork and roll your eyes but feel that adoration for him simmer just under your heartbeat.

While you shower, he orders food and claims he’ll help you settle in after you’ve had something to eat.

When he finds you staring listlessly out the window to his balcony, he comes up from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, arms winding mindlessly around your waist and sighing peacefully when you lean back into him. It’s oddly domestic and comfortable, and it’s something you don’t want to let go of.

"This is temporary, isn't it?" You mumble brokenly, thinking about what Ada had said back at the lab. "You don't really…you don't."

Leon's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he cups your face and turns your head so that you're forced to meet his eyes. "What gave you that idea?"

"If you just want me for the pleasure, you can say it," heart twisting painfully as tears well hotly in your eyes. "You can tell me. I can let go."

"No, no," he chastises, holding you close like the nonexistent distance between your bodies was enough to kill him. "When our job is done, we'll go wherever you want. No matter what."

"You don’t get it, Leon," you sigh, pulling away from his grasp. It feels like you're tearing your soul apart. "I've always been unlovable. No matter what I said or what I did, I always ended up alone–and I can't bear to get attached to someone who doesn't reciprocate the way I want them to. I can't do that to you."

He doesn't talk for a moment, frowning upon seeing your hands massaging into your upper arms. Self-soothing, and the feeling of your own touch makes a sad sort of feeling gather in your chest like dew collecting on leaves on crisp early mornings.

"(Y/n)," Leon murmurs your name with so much emotion behind it that you almost start crying all over again. "You know I love you, right?"

The whole world seems to stop.

"For infinity. Forever," he turns you around from your position and reaches out, hand waiting for your own. When you hesitantly rest your palm in his, warmth radiates from his body into yours. "You're not unlovable. Never in a million years. Not if I have anything to say about it."

You really can't hold back the tears now and his other hand comes up, thumbing them away as they cascade.

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to kiss him properly, unable to vocalize just how much his affirmation meant to you.

Leon kisses you like he needs you to exist. His hands rake across your body and your skin tingles with anticipation. When had you gotten to the point where the line between hatred and need blurred so intensely? When did you start needing his touch to be able to function properly? When did you start craving Leon in the ways that you would have loathed just a few months prior?

You love him, infinitely and eternally. Who knows what the road ahead holds for you both? But, as he carries you to his bedroom and closes the door tightly, you find you’re not as afraid of the future as you had already been.

An angel, fallen from grace.

But, if this is the consequence, then hey.

You’re not one to complain.

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